#i even told dep the first time I saw it

[shadow0-1]

Soap 100% got his belt while he was in Mexico

[woneuntonzz]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ reflections

📞 ; “maybe it's a blessing in disguise, i see my reflection in your eyes.”

𖹭 : sungchan x afab!reader

💭 love can be a possession, and like everything owned, it can be easily lost... “we were too close to the stars.”

⤷ contains: angst, pining, cussing, mentions of other idol names for

world building

⤷ warnings: none (?)

⤷ wc: 4.2k (not proofread :>)

🎧 a songfic, inspired by The Neighbourhood's Reflections

-ˋˏ under the cut .ᐟ ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Perfect does not exist, maybe that’s true for you, but I’ve seen perfection, I’ve felt perfection. The thought seems superficial, I know, but to be in my place —I’ve had to endure years of sorrow because of this said perfection. 

And perfection was in the form of Jung Sungchan. 

On the surface, it might take a few blinks for one to understand. But it wasn’t solely your visage that has led me to this wistful void. 

I loved to draw, just as much as I loved you, maybe a little less —but you get the point. You’ve been the subject of my illustrations, from the moment I saw you, till I couldn’t physically see you anymore. 

“Is that me?” I didn’t get why you’d still ask, of course it’s you, it’ll always be you. 

The outline of your profile provokes daydreams, oh how I wish I was the only one. When I saw you for the first time I instantly knew, everyone had their eyes on you, it was only a matter of time till the attraction came pouring in. 

Still, you stood your ground like everyone else, just trying to live your life, and everyday I wished I could be part of it. 

I draw the lines, and you paint it with colors, colors I had never seen before, colors that could’ve been the manifestation of your reciprocation. 

“Good morning, I’m Jung Sungchan, I was wondering if I’m in the right place, senior Kim sent me here to fetch the package from, Y/n?” you were quite unsure of my name, I’m pretty sure you had it written on the tiny piece of paper you held in between two of your fingers. 

“That’s me. Department?” I didn’t even know why I still asked, I knew well where you were situated. 

“Film.” I felt as if I was going to combust, I could’ve sworn I saw you held back a laugh, the slight hum of your bass voice almost had me stumbling back. “You?”

“Arts.” Now I almost laughed at myself.

But never did I think that our talk would last for a longer while. “Sophomore, right?”

I tried my best to exude a hum as a response, before asking you back why, “Why’d you ask?”

“I see you around a lot, but I just wasn’t sure if you were older or younger. I also confused you with someone else I knew multiple times before.” —someone else?

I was thinking maybe I should be more open to variety, to not wear the same hairstyle, similar set of clothes, and one color pallette everyday. Maybe then you wouldn’t confuse me for someone else. Maybe then you’d see me and think, that’s Y/n from the Arts Dep. She's really pretty.

“Who did you confuse me for? maybe I know who they are.”

“Actually…” actually what Sungchan? “She’s your friend.”

I don’t exactly have loads of friends, but I couldn’t help but ask, “Which one?”

“Minjeong.” 

I had no idea of what expression you had painted on my face with all the things you had just said, but Minjeong? to confuse me with her might be too remote from the reality I lived. And because I was talking to a guy, I remembered when she told me, “Can you believe it? I’m being pursued by a guy!” —I never thought that guy would be you. Why you? or rather, why not me?

It wasn’t hard to tell whether my assumptions are true or not, because the way you bit your lip after her name fell from your mouth, suppressing a smile I could only assume was one only she could elicit from you.

I was right. 

And I was in pain. I felt like nothing but an excuse for you to see her, always seeming to have packages to retrieve for your senior, and coming back to return things to me, then all I hear is she, she, she, Minjeong where, Minjeong when —I wanted to rid of my hearing, besides it already felt like bleeding to the point where clotted blood would just block my auditory. 

But my pain only leads to my deception. I hate that I had to smile through whatever you had to say, congratulate you even when you gushed about her smiling back at you, or talking to you all evening through messages. 

“That’s cute, happy there’s some progress.” I spoke through a pretentious smile. 

“Thank you Y/n, I really don’t think it’ll be possible if I hadn’t met you.”

Perfection is truly just anguish behind a polished glass case, and at that moment I faced you, I wished I hadn’t met you at all. 

My pain and deception, tomorrow I would keep the frame of your smile in my memories, and I just had to pick up a pencil. I’ve always loved to draw things, but through an artist’s honesty, I only draw the things I find beautiful, the things worth the graphite imprinted at the side of my hand. You were beauty and agony, and as much as I wanted to say I hated you, I loved you more than my best creations.

“You drew me? That’s really awesome, I don’t know how artists manage to create such images." Did you never think of how I did it? that maybe I stared at you for too long that I could draw you at every angle, with any expression —I had memorized every line on your face, the curve from the tip of your nose, to your philtrum, and to your lips. Whenever I drew your lips I would touch my own, feeling for its cushions whilst wondering how yours would feel. I reckon it must’ve been softer, more delicate, it always looked so velvet that for a while it was the only thing that occupied my mind. 

So shameful of me to be fantasizing about a guy my friend liked and a guy who liked my friend. But I loved you first, it could’ve been me. I always stuck around so that maybe one day you’d choose me. 

“She said yes!” —of course she would. 

Anyone in her place would, and anyone who wouldn’t would be lying to themselves. 

That smile you wore when you exclaimed so blissfully, it’s engraved in my mind, and then I knew I would never have that smile for myself. 

My mind is clouded, and my heart is aching and cracking, and whenever I felt it I just wished you could feel it too, just how much you’ve ruined my life. 

“Your work is honestly flawless, maybe Min could use some lessons from you.” your quip was followed by a playful hit on your shoulder, then a chorus of laughter.

“Yeah, Y/n is probably the best artist in our department, but I’m not that bad!” it hurt to watch you wrap an arm around her waist as her sweet voice so vexingly amplified in my ears.

You looked at me then, as if you were telling me to laugh. There was nothing for me to laugh at, it would be a pity to laugh at myself, and at what cost? Still, I had to force a smile, just for feeling sorry that I had let myself fall into your abyss. 

Avoiding you could’ve tended my wounds, but it wasn’t that easy when you were dating my friend. My friend who I had known longer than you, my friend who was a lot less selfish than me, who likely had thought about me more than I have with her. How could I when you were occupying a very gross space in my mind. I’m disgusting for still yearning for you, all when we had nothing, no foreground. You had never looked at me like you looked at her, I have never felt the skin underneath your ironed dress shirt, I have never felt the heat of your breath against my neck, and never have I felt your tender grip clasped around my hands. I was all desire and no fulfillment, and it had to be that way, not for your sake nor hers, but for mine. 

If I gave in, I wouldn’t be alive for you, her, and everyone looking down on me with ire. 

I would only grow to hate myself even more, I love you, but I could only see the antithesis of your motivations. 

“I owe you one too, Min and I wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for you.” and I didn’t even have a choice. 

I saw you to be a bit too brazen to continue to treat me like a friend, yet I never saw you as one of mine. 

“You don’t owe me one.” you owe me everything. 

“That’s not true, hey, how about this, I have a friend who wants to meet you, remember the drawing that I stole from you? Well, he saw it and he said he wanted to meet the artist.” you seemed so eager to push me away. 

“Oh really? Who's he?” to raise such a painful question, that day I truly was not myself.

You introduced me to a guy, and I could tell it took him great effort to be as expressive as you, not that he was aware that I had my eyes on you the whole time. It was no question that I would never see him the same way I did you, even if I tried, he isn’t Jung Sungchan, he isn’t you. 

“So, how’d you find Eunseok?” you asked me when you accompanied me back to my building. 

“He’s nice, but I’m not really looking for a date right now.” —I am only looking at you.

“Hmm, but try, yeah? maybe not date, but befriend him. Try to see him for who he is.” I chuckled at your careful pick of words, befriend, in what world did you think I was going to befriend a guy closely involved with you?

And for what? just so it would only be harder for me to escape myself? 

It’s already a torturous endeavor to keep up with your beaming face, walking up to me like an old friend you’ve been longing to see after some time. Friend, is all I’ll ever be. 

With the passing time, I figured, it was better than being nothing with you, right? I would rather have you just close enough, than not at all. I know it’s wrong for me to look at you that way, but it would only be me who knew, I’m sure. I see it in your eyes, how dismissive they are of the light that resides in mine, the light you ignited. You could so easily keep your eyes on me without a stagger, unlike me, fighting all my demons and being very easily lost in a reverie under your unsuspecting gaze. 

“You’re really pretty, you know that, right?” sadly it wasn’t your voice I would hear it from. 

“Eunseok, I already like someone else, I’ve told you.” 

“Yeah, I know that, and I know who. It was a compliment.” 

I had dared him to tell me who if he really knew, and he got it, slipped right off his tongue. Jung Sungchan, three syllables that provoked the fires of my hell. 

But was I really pretty? apparently, not pretty enough for you. 

“I mean, Eunseok wasn’t wrong, you are fairly pretty —but he did tell me you already like someone, do I know him?” you have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you to shut up, to tell you that it’s you, I like you. 

“That’s easy to say isn't it?”

“What?”

“To call someone pretty, and it doesn’t even have to be true.” It’s true, isn’t it? It's so easy to leave those words without a second thought, because they're all words, and deceit is inevitable. Your face molded into a dumbfounded expression, and it scared me. I might’ve sounded my hatred with those few words and so I said, “I’m kidding, and you don’t have to know who I like. It’s none of your concern.” 

I tried masking my regret with jest, but it was all true, I am not your concern. You shouldn’t care, especially when I’m not the one your heart beats for. 

I was a witness of the highs and lows of your relationship, how both of you seemed to lack something in each other’s eyes. At that point, all I could do was look away. I was afraid, so I distanced myself. The blame, the misery, I had not shown intentions out of the ordinary, but my brain ached and quaked from the what ifs and hows, and the whens.

“Y/n? Are you avoiding me?” my breath hitched, and I halted my steps. 

“No?—”

“No? why are you saying it as if you’re asking me?” I gulped, your eyes weren’t as spirited as they’d usually be, and your voice was demanding an answer out of me. 

“No. I’m really busy with my workload, Sungchan.” 

I wanted to yell at you, I’m in love with you, you and the way you cared, just stop caring, how hard could it be? stop caring so I could finally step away without looking back, so you could live a placid life without my trouble.  

I never thought I’d witness you chase after her in our building for the last time, pretty cheek bruised red from a hit you took from her. Was it over? and was it your fault?

“We broke up.” to me, your words sounded tantalizing.

I had no idea what you expected me to do, or say, or react. “Why?” and I had no idea I shouldn’t have asked. 

“I don’t know if I’m being honest with myself.” I didn’t want to believe what I was hearing, and I wish that would be the end of it. “Minjeong is a great person, I know I’m not. I wished I could’ve spared her the time, and returned her love the same way she gave it to me, but she’s not the one. I fell out, Y/n, I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, your sorry stinging my mind. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

You looked down for a while, eyeing the textures of the granite flooring. And I caught it, a single tear dropping down and landing in between your feet. “She’s your friend.”

I looked away from your swollen eyes, allowing the breeze to softly glide over the wisps of my lashes as I desperately searched for anything to reply, “You’re my friend too.” It would only pain me more when you kept apologizing, mumbling through your sobs. “Sungchan, stop apologizing.”

I was bewildered with the continuous apology, and why you chose to be this restless with me. But I guess you got me, even if I was tired, drained to the very bottom, I was still willing to catch the tears that swelled from your eyes with my shoulders. 

Well of course, it was easy for others to see it as something else, and I had to remember I had a friend, a friend that wasn’t you. 

“Minjeong, please, let’s talk—”

“I don’t want to fucking talk Y/n, there’s nothing for us to talk about.” 

Did she think it was my fault? Was it my fault? Are there things I’m failing to see?

But I'm just a girl, Sungchan, I failed to push you away. I felt temporary, replaceable, but you needed someone by your side. 

“Eunseok and I aren’t on good terms right now. He found out the truth.” I searched for it through your glossed eyes. 

Was there, perhaps, some other truth? “Truth?”

“I don’t know what to do.” but I was in no place to tell you what to do either. 

You were dodging bullets, but at that moment I was too preoccupied with swallowing the lump in my throat, trying to lure myself out of your poise. 

I forgot what I had told you, but all I know is that I was seeing you more often than the times you used to retrieve packages for senior Kim, and senior Kim has been away for two years, graduated. Now we’re the seniors, a pair with a piteous reputation to those who have known us throughout our college years. 

“We should make a movie together, you know.” you seemed too enthusiastic for your own good, but still, I chuckled. 

“What are you thinking?” 

“I mean, like an animation since you can draw, and you seem great with storytelling.” 

Storytelling? never even gave it a thought. “Interesting. Let me think about it, I might just consider it.”

“Take your time.”

I never knew just how serious you were. I ended up taking my time too well, with you.

To look back at it, it isn’t too bad of a decision to create something I could look back on and carry for the rest of my life. You were my serendipity, it would only lead me to fall deeper, and I know how much it’ll hurt when it’s finally time for us to part. 

So I guess, thank you, and fuck you for being so good to me, for leaving scars that would only burn when you were no longer in my reach. Your touch was my kryptonite, and your voice was my reason to force myself out of slumber. I’m so in love with you, but my pride would not allow me to. 

A part of me still bathes in guilt. I lost friends for you, for a future I could only dream about. 

“Where are you off to after college?” I tried to calm my pounding heart from the way your hand toyed with mine. 

You spread out my fingers, your thumb softly rubbing against them, “Still thinking about our movie.”

Our movie, that’s funny. “How about a little life plan?”

“You go first, then I’ll tell you mine.”

What was the point, Sungchan? “I have two paths laid out for me, one’s for character design, and the other’s free-lance, you know it.” your fingers glide against the skin at the back of my hand, and in a blink the warmth of your palm spreads throughout my body as it rests on my skin. 

“My turn, right?” you really had to pose it as a question, tilting your head at me, so obviously expecting an answer. I could only, and very languidly nod for I was getting myself drunk with your burning touch. “You know, I really want to work closer with you, so any decision I make, you’d probably see me at work.”

Perfection is a fucking lie. 

Again I’d find myself slumping on my bed, thinking about how easy it was for you to run past me. Now you had all these opportunities waiting in line for you. 

“They want me to act, do you think I’m fit for it? Do you think I can do it?”

If it’s that easy for you to leave, “Of course you can.”

It would’ve been nice if you were more honest, cause for a while you were drawing an outline of possibilities, possibilities of you and I, and not just me, me, me.

Until seeing you was barely a chance, I continued to refuse seeing through your honeyed gaze, afterall, I chose to love you too much, because either way, I had no choice but to let you go. 

Now I sit alone, writing books about the love I never had. Such a pitiful soul I am. I was even oblivious of the many details of this story, because we never talked beyond the trivial things, never about how our eyes longed for each other, or how our hands found each other’s skin that would sear from the sensation, the friction. 

You had moved out of town. I couldn’t bring myself to meet you at the train station for, possibly, the last time. I could only wish you luck through a poorly composed text message, three sentences long. 

the lovers by rené magritte 💌

sorry i couldn’t meet you today, but i wish you all luck in the world. you deserve whatever you have going for you. i’m gonna miss you.

my robbie 🥀

thank you y/n

i have a feeling i’m gonna miss you more hahaha

I had to leave you on read. This time I choose to just not look back. 

And it was for the better. It sure hurts to see you on Tv, to see you deny your dating history, “I’ve dated before, but I’ve never dated ‘the one’, needless to say, I wish I could meet her right now.” —I’ve read all the articles about that interview, that very statement of yours. How fascinating. Acting truly was for you. I could no longer see where we met in your eyes. 

I wonder if you’ve read any of my books, if you had wondered if I ever did pursue a career where I could make use of my illustrative talents —it got me nowhere, but you were right, I can tell a heck of a story, and so I told the world hundreds of them. 

Your foreshadowing of my future was a big stain I had to carry, and hide as an author. But I would keep writing without breaking even in the slightest bit. 

Because I only loved you. I only wished, but never fully hoped, never really tried. 

╔══════════════╗

“Hmm, are you sure you want this published?” 

“I’m not gonna have it out as is, of course I have to build characters. I just wanted your thoughts. It would make for a good novel, right?” 

You sat face to face with your publisher, Song Eunseok, to ask for his thoughts on this draft you made six years ago. 

“It would —but you know, I’m quite surprised.” Eunseok wore a smirk on his face, one you couldn’t quite read through. 

“Really? surprised?” a low chuckle escapes his mouth, very subtly shaking his head.

He had briefly glanced on the floor beside him, and when he looked back, almost all emotions he displayed were erased. “It wasn’t hard to tell you liked Sungchan, I knew, Minjeong knew.”

“Minjeong knew?” you almost lost your breath, heart racing from the tone of his voice alone. 

“Well, not until she was convinced. She’s just as stupid as you were —I mean, no offense, you’re great, but you’re also quite self-absorbed. Take it with a grain of salt, but it’s the truth if you ask me.” you watched him pour himself a glass of whiskey, and he’d pour you one too knowing you’d need it. “They broke up because of you.”

He’d repeat the same motion, shaking his head and humming when the lines on your face started to show more. “Didn’t any of them tell you?”

“Tell me what, Eunseok?”

“Sungchan liked you too.” and there you would take your first sip of liquor. “You truly were too lost, weren’t you? you didn’t even notice the way he looked at you, and how he talked about you. Just a shame he didn’t tell you after the storm died down.”

The storm, their break up, the demise of your dignity. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know what he had in mind, why don’t you ask ‘your Robbie’.?” you rolled your eyes at his laughter that followed. “Cute nickname, where did ‘The Lovers by René Magritte’ come from?”

Pouring yourself more of the liquor, you’d softly laugh at yourself, looking back at that bitter memory. “I showed him my favorite artworks, ‘The Lovers’ happened to be one of them, and he said it’s so beautifully made, like me.”

“That sucks.”

“I know.”

You both laughed over your wretched past, how pathetic and wrong you were. You were glad you could now see through more than your own lens, it's a whole other journey to discover and open yourself up to empathy, and it felt like contentment to finally reach it.

“You received it, right?” 

You looked him right in the eyes, smiling as you asked back, “The wedding invitation?” he hummed and nodded as an answer, “Of course. It’s what led me to finding that draft.”

He hummed again, head propped on his hands as he caught sight of your gaze, “We should go together, maybe we can ask Sungchan if he’s okay with the story.”

“And maybe we can get him to act for it when it’s turned into a movie.” his laughter grew louder, making you lightly hit his shoulder. 

“Well, at least he could fulfill his wish of making a movie with you.”

“Oh shut up.”

He was quite… the experience. A love that was pure misery. If he wanted to, he would’ve, right? So does it truly matter if he likes you then? 

You looked again at your draft, ink at certain spots were smudged, you remember being all tears as you wrote. 

Sungchan was not your greatest love, but you’ve got to admit he’d led you to a place where your passion could only grow stronger. You could say that sometimes you missed the way he felt on your skin, but it would be just the memories itself, and not him, not anymore. 

Perfection does not exist, and you had to go through all that trouble to convince yourself that it was him. 

Who could blame you? you’ve never met anyone like him, and you never will again. 

End.

just something very short and sweet for u :)) short question, is this a happy ending or not?

[idontplaytrack]

Big girls don’t cry

Lilette Suarez x fem! reader

Warnings: coarse language, angst?, fluff

In which a sick reader thinks it isn’t that serious and works herself exhausted until Lilette sees her walk through the door and nearly passes out

What the hell was this? A cold? Allergies? It’s better just be allergies. You couldn’t possibly be sick, you never get sick. And if you did, well…no one really took you seriously. Especially your family. They all think you were being dramatic. When was the last time anyway? High school? You had no idea how you got by so many years without falling sick ever since the stomach bug of ‘18. Goddamn, that was a terrible time.

You woke up that morning to a couple of sneezes. At first you didn’t think too much of it, but then it kept happening. Even on your way to work. You told yourself it was just allergies, but really, you were just lying to yourself and hoping that the headache you were beginning to feel, wasn’t really there.

The worst part of all, however wasn’t the sneezing or the ache in your head, but the fact that when you stepped into your office and felt like you’d walked into a damn freezer.

Focusing on your work became increasingly difficult as the minutes went by, you’ve not felt like this in years and hated every bit of it. You wanted to go home, did you need to? No. You weren’t a child, you were a grown woman perfectly capable of dealing with a cold.

You were wrong. You were so wrong.

By lunch time you were so close to tears that you felt like a crazy person sitting at your desk watching the time on the clock hoping it’d go by faster. All while working on a report that your boss had been asking for since the morning. Well, you had till the end of the day to complete it and hand it in, and even though your hands seemed to be working on autopilot, your mind and eyes couldn’t focus to help you see if any of it even made sense.

Some way or other, you made it to 5pm. Placing the folder on your boss’ desk, you left the building on the dot and actually made it home. Once you had entered the apartment, that’s when your world went to shit, pretty much. Every little bit of fatigue and aches and your symptoms hit you like a ton of bricks. As the front door shut, your eyes frantically searched for Lilette through their blurred vision. Your head was starting to spin and you could no longer stay standing without feeling like you’d collapse onto the floor. You hear footsteps coming from your left side, you turn your head and saw an unclear figure approaching you. Suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of nausea, you heard Lilette’s voice greeting you, asking you how you were and her hands holding onto you.

You weren’t sure if it was your giddiness or the lack of food you had that day which caused your nausea, but you knew you hated it so much. You desperately wanted it to go away. Lilette quickly helped you over to the couch to sit down, cupping your cheeks in her hands, “What’s the matter, love? Why didn’t you call me?”

You shook your head and somehow it was like switch flipped within you and the waterworks just began. You fell limp in her arms, “I’m sorry. I’m sick, I don’t feel good.”

She held you close, stroking your hair. Lilette looked at you, worried. Why the hell were you apologising for something out of your control? It wasn’t your fault.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll be right here to take care of you.” She hushed, “What do you need?”

You couldn’t exactly talk clearly or at all from the crying you were doing. So she just quietly held you in her arms and let you release your emotions.

After awhile, “I’m hungry.” You swallowed thickly, “But I’m nauseous. And my head’s pounding and spinning and I feel hot and cold at the same time, Lil. I’ve never felt this way in years.”

She carefully let go of you. “I’ll make you some ginger tea to help settle your stomach, and some toast, okay? Try and have some of that and meds. Then once your stomach feels better, and after some rest I’ll see what we can do depending on how you’re feeling. But don’t worry, I got you.”

You took some deep breaths to calm yourself down. You knew you sounded ridiculous now that your emotions weren’t running high. She felt your forehead with the back of her hand and scurried away to retrieve a thermometer and medication. Before you knew it, the necessary meds were consumed and you’d already had some food in your system. Right now, you were in the shower. Lilette was with you. She still was, right there. Caring about you, making sure that you didn’t pass out. To you, that was not normal. That was never the norm for you growing up. You always had to tough it out, ‘be brave’, because your parents would always tell you ‘big girls don’t cry’. It was shit like that that stuck with you, instead of majority of the good things that came once you left that environment. You hated that they did that you your young, impressionable mind.

Lilette did all of these things for you without being asked, without making you feel bad, or like a burden. It made you feel better already not having to keep up with the facade of being okay when you so clearly were not. You did not have to pretend when you were with Lilette— she knew you better than anyone else. She knew what you went through better than anyone else. Too well, in fact. You were both still healing from things that have been shared with each other and some that hadn’t been. But, healing. It was a slow, sometimes difficult and painful process but you two were healing and getting better and stronger.

There were days like these though, where you felt absolutely beaten down. You hated it, but it had to run its course. You were sick, and you had to face it. You could face it better now, since you had someone who did not make you feel bad about yourself. Someone who cared about you, someone who didn’t mind doing things for you and loved you for you.

She watched you closely as you did everything from showering to drying yourself off and getting dressed. Once all that was done, she headed back out to the living room with you to cuddle on the couch. “Meds should have kicked in by now.” She muttered to herself, feeling your forehead again, “Do you still feel nauseous?”

“No.” You mumbled, “I think it was the giddiness. And the fact that I didn’t eat much today.”

“That’s good.” She presses a kiss to your temple. “Do you want anything else?”

“Nope.” You shook your head no, snuggling closer against her. She gladly wrapped her arms around you once again. “I’m guessing you’re not gonna just go to sleep if I ask you to.” Lilette laughs.

“No.” You admit.

“Alright then, I’ll just hold you till you fall asleep.” She smooches you on the cheek, “How about some TV in the meantime?”

“Uh-uh.” You disagreed, “Can you give me head scratches? Or massage my head or something. I think I’ll be able to feel asleep pretty easy like that.”

“Sure, my love.” Lilette immediately ran her hand through your hair, the motion of her fingertips relaxed you and was coaxing you to sleep after some minutes. “You wanna lay on me? Or put your head in my lap?”

You nuzzled against her chest, shaking your head, “I want cuddles.”

“Okay, baby.” Lilette agrees with a laugh, “Just relax, I got you. You’ll be okay in no time. I promise.”

“Thanks, Lil.” You smiled drowsily.

She mirrors your smile, “I love you.”

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

Didn’t feel like finishing this one but I’m no quitter so here it is after 10 days of it sitting in my drafts😗

[pondscummy]

okay less venting and more soliciting actual feedback here about whether my opinions are too wild for me being a lef//tist, which is not something I ever want to do in a setting where randos are basically guaranteed to see it lmfao

I was telling my friend about a new crush I have on a different work guy than the first and I was trying to guess his age by the fact that I know he was dep//loyed into active milit//ary duty at some point after starting at our company, which makes him likely to have been within about ages 24-30 when it happened, bc the mili//tary owns you for 8 years after you enlist and can call you back whenever it wants. it's also very common that they pull from either the nat//ional guard or the voluntary res//erves, as opposed to like the standard branches who aren't currently serving.

anyway my friend told me that to them being in the mili//tary is just as bad as everything going on with my other coworker (who I could Never date fr bc his poli//tical opinions are so different from my own) and I was like really????????? bc like idk Yeah if he's in the voluntary re//serves that's bad to me bc it means he did his time and then was like yep I believe in this enough to keep doing it whenever you want me to past the time you own me even. I'd get major ick from that. but *i* almost enlis//ted in the nat//ional guard 😭 I was like 19 and stupid and had been raised by more con//serva//tive leaning parents and I just sort of saw it as a way to pay for school without really having to do anything too bad. I would've been very wrong bc they sent that branch to fight in afg//hani//stan and also used them in the por//tland prot//ests. but that was my thinking. and by the time I'd actually enl//isted if I'd done so I would've been 20 and they would have been able to call me back until last year, when my feelings were Very different than they'd been when I was barely not a teenager anymore

so idk in my mind, being or having been mi//litary is not an all a strike against someone who's had several years to change, it just makes me look a little closer to see if they have or if they are for a bunch of shit I'm against. but is that like super wild that I feel that neutral like is that something I should be re-examining???? idk

[takenbythebliss]

@eli-whitetail​

He didn’t know how long he’d been out for, but it must’ve been a while, judging by the reactions from the other Whitetails and Linny. Everything hurt. His shoulder was in utter shit, his entire body protested at any movement.

It was the whispers he heard when they thought he was asleep that filled him in on what happened; Jacob had brainwashed the Deputy. Well shit, he hopes the Dep was okay. That first thought surprised even Eli as he lay on the bed. The Dep didn’t know any better … whereas he’d known the Seeds. He’d known Jacob - he should have seen the signs and not shoved so much pressure on the Dep.

Bombs had been deployed and the world was ruined. But Hope County’s worrying percentage of preppers had actually been an advantage. Wheaty was safe, so Tammy had told him the minute he was conscious, but holed up in Nick and Kim’s bunker down in Holland Valley. Good. Props to Kim and Nick for looking out for the kid.

Slowly he reclaimed some strength and wandered up and down the narrow metal hallway of the Den to try and make his muscles work again. Which was how he ambled past Wheaty’s room and saw her

Slowing his already painfully-slow pace, Eli leaned heavily against the doorway and watched as Linny listened to an MP3. He waved his good arm until she sat up and saw him. “It’s good to see you kid, I know we had some bad interactions.”

When she had proclaimed Joseph as a prophet and John as her protector. Poor Kid. She’d been an easy target for those fuckers; that was why poor Mark had tried his hardest to save his little sister. He was gone now, poor lad, but at least Linny was safer here than with the Seeds.

“I know I was rude to you before Linny, but I really am glad you’re here.”

the radios weren’t working, they weren’t doing anything other than crackling static down the line - the cameras were knocked out and they were literally holed up in the wolf’s den blind for the most part. nothing to pass the time but wander around the metal halls of the bunkers. that’s what she’d been doin’ earlier, but a pang of homesickness had her turn right into wheaty’s room. she’d found an MP3 player squirreled away in the little locker next to his bed and it was there that linny had found the song she’d been listening to on repeat.

crooked tree hides the moon … wheels turning over too …

she’d lost count how many times she’d listened to the song over and over. it wasn’t that there wasn’t anything else to listen to, god no - if there was one thing wheaty had made sure of, it was that he’d stave out the apocalypse with the most eclectic collection of records known to man. but he weren’t here. he was safe, but he wasn’t here, and no one knew how long it would be before they saw the others again … if ever. 

the world up top was either still burnin’ or it was too radioactive for them to survive. but as dumb as it sounded, she got the smallest bit of comfort out of being curled up on wheaty’s bed, wearing a hoody she’d pilfered from his wardrobe and listening to the song she’d heard him strum away on his guitar in the spread eagle and the 8-bit pizza bar way too many times to count.

blinking out of her stupor when she saw some movement out of the corner of her eye, linny yanked the earbuds from her ears and sat up straighter, like a bold child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. 

’ eli - tammy’s gonna yell at you for bein’ out of bed. ’

that was a shit response. but those were the first words that the teenager blurted out, immediately feeling her cheeks redden. scooting further up the bed, linny pulled her feet off of the comforter, making room for the man to sit down before he fell down. the soft lilt of huxlee’s crooked tree clung onto the still air of the bunker, the earbuds making the guitar sound tinny. nodding her head at the man’s words, linny had to swallow a couple of times to force the knot in her throat back down … he had been right all along, and she had been too blind to see. but wheaty and eli had been right and the project at eden’s gate had taken so many people - they’d taken mark and all he’d wanted to do was protect her.

and now the collapse had happened just like how joseph said it would and they were all stuck here and no one knew when they might see their friends and families again … she might never see nana or pawpaw, or wheaty again.

’ i’m really glad you’re alive. ’

scrubbing the heel of her palm across her cheeks, linny swiped away a rogue tear that managed to make a break to roll down her cheek. nu-uh. she’d done enough crying already. and it was just like what tammy had said - there weren’t nothing wrong with feeling sorry for yourself every once in a while, but you had to pick yourself back up again. reaching out to hit the pause button on the MP3 player, linny shook her head at eli’s words.

’ you weren’t rude to me, eli. you were worried and i couldn’t see it … i didn’t want to see it. ’

[themovieblogonline]

Civil War Review: Alex Garland's Heartwrenching War Masterpiece

When you go to the theatre to see a brand new Alex Garland movie, you know that it's not going to be a conventional movie by any means. Even his most accessible movie in my opinion - Ex Machina - is still an absolutely enthralling and bizarre dive into science fiction. The same can also be said about his follow-up film Annihilation. And although I know that a lot of people out there loathe Men with a passion, I personally think it's an excellent horror film that never fails to get under my skin, even if it's maybe not as good as it was the first time I saw it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDyQxtg0V2w Although I was familiarized with Garland's filmography before seeing his latest film Civil War, nothing could've truly prepared me for the emotionally taxing and genuinely depressing journey the movie was going to take me on. It's the kind of movie that, as soon as the credits are finished rolling, you feel absolutely disgusted to your core but you also recognize that the film that you just watched is a total work-of-art. Truth be told, Civil War will be a difficult movie to rewatch because of its imagery and subject matter. But it's also one of the best movies of the year, and one of the best war movies ever made. It stands out as a profound commentary on the fabric of American society. Additionally, it delves into politics through the lens of a dystopian war drama. Set in a future America where divisions have escalated into a full-blown Second Civil War, the film intricately explores themes of loyalty, ideology, and the price of freedom through the journey of a team of journalists navigating the ravaged landscape. With a cast led by Kirsten Dunst, Wagner Moura, Cailee Spaeny, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Sonoya Mizuno, and Nick Offerman, the film delivers a powerfully resonant narrative that captivates from start to finish. Garland's screenplay weaves a harrowing tale that, while dystopian, feels uncomfortably possible. It paints a grim picture of a nation torn asunder by its own contradictions. Kirsten Dunst's portrayal of Lee Smith, a photojournalist caught between her duty to report the truth, is particularly compelling. Her character's resilience and determination, juxtaposed with her vulnerabilities, make for a nuanced performance that anchors the film. Wagner Moura's Joel serves as a fitting counterpart, blending cynicism with an unexpected depth of emotion. The young Cailee Spaeny, as the aspirational Jessie, represents the heart of the film. Through her eyes, we witness the transformation from naivety to the stark realization of war's brutalities. One can only hope that Spaeny continues to receive incredible roles. Honestly, I'd go as far as to say that she deserves an Oscar for this performance. Stephen McKinley Henderson’s portrayal of the wise yet fatalistic Sammy offers a masterclass in supporting roles. He leaves an indelible mark despite limited screen time. Meanwhile, Nick Offerman's casting as the President—serving an unprecedented third term—was an inspired choice. Offerman channels an unsettling blend of charisma and menace, making the dictator all the more believable and chilling. Garland’s direction is meticulous, crafting scenes of urban warfare and quieter moments of introspection with equal care. His choice to showcase the stark contrast between the chaos of the battlefield and the eerie normalcy found in pockets of the war-torn nation underscores the absurdity and tragedy of civil conflict. The pacing of the film, coupled with its haunting score and visually arresting cinematography, builds a crescendo. It will leave viewers on the edge of their seats. Particularly noteworthy are the action sequences in Charlottesville, Virginia, and the heart-pounding ending. Both of which showcase Garland’s ability to handle large-scale set pieces without losing focus on the human element. The film's commentary on journalism is another layer that adds depth to the narrative. Lee and her team's ethical dilemmas challenge the audience to consider media's role in shaping perceptions of war. The bold narrative choice forces the audience to confront the moral ambiguity of vengeance and justice in times of war. It shows Garland's exploration of human darkness and revolutionary complexities. The final image of the film is a chilling reminder of the cycle of violence. Overall: Civil War is a masterful addition to the genre of dystopian war films. It offers a riveting, albeit bleak, vision of America's future that resonates with the current global political climate. With standout performances, particularly from Dunst and Moura, and Garland's expert direction, the film achieves a rare balance of thrilling entertainment and thoughtful commentary. Read the full article

[hunnybadgerv]

“Want me to model these for you?” for Sharky and Tayen? 🖤😘

Summary: Sharky has a soft spot for making the deputy grin, even when that’s all there is time for.

a/n: Prompted by NightWingsHero: “Want me to model these for you?” for Sharky and Tayen. Just so you know the moment I saw this, it practically wrote itself. From this list.

Floor Model

Even in the low light they looked perfect. Deputy Tayen Quick’s fingertips traced the outline, the delicate edges tickling her skin.

Warm breath caressed her ear, accompanied with that voice laced with a hint of smoke. “Want me to model these for you?”

Tayen tilted her head as the tip of his nose nudged at her ear lobe. His lips were warm, his stubble rough against the thin skin of her neck. As long as he was content to tease her neck, Tayen remained silent in response to his question. When his teeth scraped over her jugular, she hissed softly and her hand detoured to into his hair.

They’d figured out the little signs. He knew her weakness—that nibbling, kissing, and sucking on her neck. And he knew that when she reached up for him, she wanted his mouth on hers. He responded just as she wished. Soft at first, then, when her lips parted, his tongue dove past. Tayen shifted, turning in his arms. His hands pulled at her hips the whole time. He wanted her close, as close as she did.

Breathless, their foreheads met first, then their eyes.

“So?” he said, between deep, fast breaths.

“How could I ever say no to the sexiest floor model in Hope County?” she replied with a wide grin, repeating what he’d said to her once when she was trying to find something dry to change into after an impromptu swim. Their current situation was far less dire. And she was incredibly curious.

“You trying to sweet talk me, Dep?”

“Hell, yes.”

“Good, because it’s working.” He kissed her mouth hard. Then that comforting warmth he emanated disappeared. Being next to Sharky was like standing next to an open flame—bright, warm, inviting, with a hint of danger.

He hopped over the counter and faced her. His cocksure grin sparked her own crooked smile, then his sweatshirt came off, pulling his undershirt off with it. Both fell on the floor at his feet.

Tayen nodded with unmasked approval and appreciation, waiting.

“Fwoosh!” he sang, guiding the arrow toward his chest and tucking it beneath his arm. He swirled on the spot then fell to the side. He grabbed for the counter on his way down. All the time, offering a vivid soundtrack for his death.

She grabbed the edge of the counter and looked over it.

Sharky lay there, legs akimbo, part on his side and his back. One arm reaching outward for nothing in particular.

“It really brings out your eyes,” she told him with a laugh.

His head turned and he batted his eyelashes at her. “Really?” He pulled the arrow from beneath him and held the fletching near his cheek.

The deputy hopped over the counter and crouched beside him, plucking the arrow out of his hand and twirling it between her fingers. She brushed the soft feathery material over his cheek, then down his sternum before she leaned over and kissed him. “Definitely, but I’m heavily biased.”

“Just can’t resist the baby blues,” he crooned, slipping his hand along her cheek to pull her closer.

She kissed him. It was languid, sweet, unhurried. And she wished that kissing him were the only thing she had to contemplate for the next few hours. “Like I’d ever try,” she told him, finally pulling away and breaking the kiss.

His fingers lingered in her hair a moment, before she leaned back on her haunches. Once she stood, she held her hand out to him.

“And here I was hoping you wouldn’t be able to resist rescuing me.”

Tayen leaned against his bare chest, letting her fingers trace over his ribs as her lips brush against his. She looked up into his eyes, licking her lips. “Let me get through with this thing,” she whispered. Each time he tried to seal his lips to hers, she eased back until he relented. “Then I can rescue you all day long.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said, pulling her body more firmly against his.

“Good.” This time when he bent his lips to hers, she welcomed his kiss.

The bell on the front door jangled in the dimness. “I swear to God! If you two are fucking in here, I’ll shoot you both,” Jess’ voice carried through the small building.

Tayen smiled against his lips.

“What’d’ya take me for, chica?” Sharky called over his shoulder. “Charlemagne Victor Boshaw the fourth is not a minute man. And besides, if we were, you would’ve known.”

Patting him on the chest, Tayen laughed softly. She grabbed all the arrows in the bin on the counter, then kissed him one more time. “Meet you out front.”

“Right behind you.” Sharky planted a kiss on her temple before he bent to grab his clothes.

[theblackswanuniverse]

could u do a bit where Raya is telling Namaari how much Noi loves to make her life a nightmare and Namaari is like ...??? Raya she is a baby, and a cute one.

Turns out Noi only bothers Raya and is an angel with everybody else

Hi, thanks for the prompt! This is a bit long and slowly turned from 'Noi is been a nightmare to Raya' to 'Noi is being a nightmare and wants the girls to stop being useless and just get together already'. I have a feeling Sisu would approve.

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

For a long time in both of their lives it had been them with their parents, and no one else.

Raya opens up to Namaari one sleepless night, the both of them sitting on one of the Fang Princess’ large concrete windows, looking at the silent sky.

“It was hard for my Ba, having to lose the woman he loved and raise a six-year-old child all alone”

“I don’t remember much about my father, he died when I was two or three years old. Mother never really liked to talk about him”

It had been a pretty sudden shift after the last battle with the Druun, Raya inviting the girl to taggle along with her as much as she possibly could – it had been a hard task at first, but slowly Namaari stopped resisting her and enjoyed her company being requested.

All of the sudden it’s like they had a family, a weird and loud yet somehow functional family.

And if Chief Benja was surprised to see her daughter befriend the quirkiest group of people he ever saw in his life, he didn’t say anything, just welcomed his daughter’s new friends.

They all saw each other at least once every two weeks, usually it was Boun that would accompany the others with his boat in Fang or Heart, the Princesses incredibly busy in their kingdoms now that no one was made of stone anymore.

It came as a complete surprise to Raya that Namaari bonded the most with Little Noi, becoming her favourite if Tong wasn’t around, and all of her warnings felt short and were amusingly dismissed by her friend.

“You’re not listening to me, I’m telling you to be careful, Princess Jewellery”

“Please, you’re just jealous because you’re awful with kids”

“I’m not awful with kids! I was the one who recruited her!”

“Raya, you realise what you just said doesn’t make it better, right? She is a toddler”

“She is a con-baby! She tried to steal the dragon gems, I told you!”

Little Noi had been in Namaari’s arms while they were arguing, playing with the dragon earring the girl had on her ear, making babbling noises.

“Sometimes you got to make choices if you want to survive, she is just a smart baby, and she is an angel now. I mean, look at her”

Both of the girls turned to look at the toddler, who started to pinch Namaari’s cheek, letting out a ‘Maari’ which the girl responded with a – disgusting, if you ask Raya – ‘ahw’ sound.

“See, nothing to worry about”.

The thing is, Raya knew that baby was a cunning little thing, and playing a baby was only a façade Noi put on. Every time the gang would reunite in Heart, suddenly something in her room or the palace would go missing.

At first, she thought she just forgot where she had put her stuff, but one time she caught Little Noi stealing a golden plate from the kitchen, and it all clicked for her.

She started to alert her staff in the kitchen to be careful of the baby, but everyone looked at her like she was the crazy one.

She tried to tell her father who laughed at first, and once Raya started to argue with him about it, Benja told her that it didn’t matter and to let the toddler have fun if that was the case.

Raya didn’t let it go.

She played like she did, suggesting that they meet in Heart for their next hang out, and put a few objects in sight for the baby to steal.

She was going to catch her this time.

She knew Noi liked shiny objects, so she placed a few items of unused jewellery on her bedroom, applying some wood glue to the objects so that she couldn’t get away with it.

To her disappointment, Tong couldn’t come this week, busy with some family matter in Spine, and Boun could only stay for a few hours, having to return for the night to help his parents with the new chain of restaurants they were opening.

“Sorry guys, but what about…the baby? Is her mother going to pick her up?”

Boun chuckled at her words, knowing how much Little Noi had been a nightmare to deal with as of lately. He was the only one who believed her, and told her that, for some reason, the baby did it only with her.

“She knows it drives you insane, I think you should pretend it’s doesn’t affect you and she will stop”. But Raya couldn’t really let it go.

“No, I was thinking she could spend the night here” said Namaari who was making funny faces at the toddler and making her laugh.

“Oh, well. This is just great” muttered the other girl under her breath.

Raya kept both of her eyes on Noi for the whole day not saying much and suggesting that they all slept in her room so the baby would feel safe for the night. She noticed Namaari slightly blushing at her words but decided to not say anything. A lingering tension had been growing between the two of them for a while now, starting when they realised they both had trouble sleeping without a nightmare eventually waking them up. They silently shifted to sleeping in the same bed when with each other, even tough it would often end up with them talking for the entire night instead of trying to sleep.

Little Noi, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have the same problem, and after an entire day spent playing and running around, she was sound asleep, curled up on the bed between the two girls.

“Still thinking she is a nightmare?” asked Namaari, soft smile turning into a smirk when her eyes landed from Noi to Raya, who was looking at the baby with her brows furrowed.

“Have you checked her pockets by chance?” retorted the girl. She had saw Little Noi put something in them earlier that day but hadn’t seen what.

Namaari scoffed, but did it anyway, as if to prove a point. Her hands seemed to find something, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Aha! Told you s—” the words left Raya all of the sudden, smug expression replaced by a an embarrassed one.

“You…you managed to find it again? Why didn’t you tell me?” Namaari was holding the pendant in her hands, the one who started everything between them six years prior and that Raya had been keeping after the Druun battle.

“I was planning on giving it to you for your birthday, actually” she whispered, hoping her friend couldn’t see her blushing in the darkening of the night.

Namaari scooted closer to her, hand cupping her cheek. “You flushed, dep la?”

Both of them could feel the tension growing in the room, and Raya decided to break it and stop this cat and mouse game they had been playing for a while, pressing her lips firmly on Namaari’s, finally shutting her up.

They slept peacefully that night, holding each other, Namaari’s arm protectively on her waist, the baby between the two of them.

Raya was the first one to wake up, sunshine beginning to illuminate her room, the other girl’s arm still resting against her skin, and Little Noi nowhere to be seen.

She scooted closer to Namaari, head nuzzling into the crook of the girl’s neck, drifting herself to sleep once again, smiling when she felt the girl hugging her tighter.

Maybe Little Noi wasn’t such a nightmare after all.

[moon-spirit-yue]

Camp Chaos

(See the description if you’re confused I put it under the Camp Chaos tag)

Part 1/5

Raya groaned at the beeping of her alarm clock, effectively waking her up. There is truly no sound more hideous than that of an alarm. Despite every instinct in her body screaming at her to snuggle back into the blankets, she walks out of bed to put on her clothes for the day. ‘Maybe staying up until 3:00 am wasn’t the best idea,’ Raya thought absently.

Benja was already making breakfast for the two of them. The delicious smell was making Raya’s mouth water in anticipation.

“Morning, dewdrop! Are you ready for the first day of camp?” Bejna asked brightly. All he got was a groan in response. He laughed and served the exhausted girl her breakfast.

“Maybe if you weren’t up all night playing Mario Kart on your phone, you would be a little more awake,” her ba laughed. “But Ba! You don’t understand! I had to finish the courses!” Raya exclaimed in her defense.

“Oh so you have time to finish Mario Kart courses but no time for driving courses? Interesting, ” he grinned. Raya pouted as she finished her breakfast. “I’ll wait for you in the car. Hopefully by then you can stop being so RUDE to your only child!” she exclaimed, stomping into the car. She should probably start working on that driver's permit soon though.

Raya fell asleep on the ride over so it felt like no time had passed when they arrived at camp. Raya leapt out of the car immediately to find her only joy in this nightmare, her best friend Sisu. Raya was able to spot her light blue hair from a mile away, and walked over to greet her. And by greeting her, she meant collapse on her.

“You were totally up all night playing Mario Kart on your phone, weren’t you my ray of sunshine?” Sisu asked while laughing. Raya whined and buried her head further into Sisu. “You don’t realize the addiction Sisu, I was too invested!” Raya replied. Sisu cackled and brought a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Well are you ready for camp? You have first grade girls right? They’re usually pretty cute and there’s only six of them so you shouldn’t go too insane,” Sisu attempted to comfort Raya. She nodded in response. “I forgot what group you have, remind me who you got,” Raya told her blueberry bestie. “I have third grade boys this year,” Sisu said happily. Raya couldn’t help but snort at that response.

“Yeah good luck with that. Let’s hope they don’t make you cry this year,” Raya laughed. (this actually happened the year before last a close acquaintance of mine was literally crying and so was the other counselor and JC I felt so bad for her but it was so funny)

Sisu laughed and shook her head. “That won’t happen this week Raya! I’ve got a good feeling about this group!” Raya rolled her eyes at that. “You say that about every group, Sisu,” Raya chuckled. Sisu nodded in agreement. “And I’m always right. Now let’s head down to the ampitheatre, the kids are going to get dropped off soon,” Raya nodded and followed Sisu out of the cafeteria and down to the ampitheatre.

“Oh I need to tie my shoe real quick, I’ll meet you down there” Raya told her. Sisu nodded and walked on by herself. Raya bent down and tied her shoe when she saw a shadow cast over her.

“Well would you look at that. Camp hasn’t even started and you’re already on your knees. Funny how that works isn’t it?” Raya knew that voice. She dreaded hearing it. It was the voice of Namaari.

Raya took a deep breathe and finishes tying her shoe. “Oh I’m sure you’d love me for me to be on my knees wouldn’t you binturi?” Raya asked, smirking. She knew how to push Namaari’s buttons like no other. And she would say whatever it took to get her through this week.

Namaari scoffed and rolled her eyes, irritation clearly spiking. ‘Good,’ Raya thought. ‘That’ll teach you, you beautiful binturi- wait did I just think beautiful? You know what that’s a problem for another day’ she thinks and mentally erases the thought from her brain.

“I don’t even know if you’re capable of watching your language long enough to take care of these kids,” Namaari said once she recovered from Raya’s jab. Raya scowled and started moving towards where her group is supposed to be. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of a small group of six year olds” Raya snarked back. Before Namaari could try to correct her, the kids came rushing in and they both had to put on their counselor acts on.

Raya had six first grade girls in total. The first portion of the day went on without a hitch. The girls were still a bit shy, but slowly warmed up to each other over the first couple of hours. By the time it was lunch, they were excitedly talking about going to the pool right. Raya couldn’t help but smile at their innocent and positive energy. “Alright girls, let’s head down to the pool,” Raya said, gathering their attention.

On of Raya’s campers noticed Raya wasn’t wearing and bathing suit, “Raya where’s your bathing suit?” Raya shrugged and simply stated that she wouldn’t be swimming because of the cold weather. She gathered the little girls to head down to the pool and waited outside the gates when she heard the most annoying voice in all of Kumandra speak.

“Where’s the bathing suit Raya? Scared of a bit of water?” Namaari teased, arriving with the first grade boys. Raya mentally groaned at her arrival. Of course this binturi was going to ruin her vibes. “I am not SCARED of the water it is freezing out here! I don’t understand how you can stand to be in a bathing suit right now,” Raya said, rolling her eyes.

Namaari just smirked. “Just one more way I’m better than you, dep la,” she said, obviously taunting Raya. Raya scowled and turned to her JC. “Watch the kids, I’m getting my bathing suit” she snapped. The little girls cheered as Raya rushed off to change.

Raya couldn’t help but stare at Namaari’s muscles being shown through her bathing suit. Raya was very smug to see Namaari checking Raya out in her bikini. Neither called the other girl out on their staring and just admired the view.

After playing mermaids with the first grade girls, one of Raya’s campers decided to wake up and choose competition because she yelled with no hesitation, “I bet Raya is faster at swimming than Namaari!” The girls obviously back her up while the first grade boys argued that Namaari was the superior swimmer. “Only one way to find out. Care for a friendly challenge Raya?” Namaari asked, grinning in an almost wicked way.

Raya rolled her eyes but nodded anyways. “I just hope you won’t be too upset when you lose, dep la,” Raya giggled. Namaari smirked and simply lined up on the wall.

A little boy form Namaari’s grouo started the count down. “Three, two, one, GO!” and the two were off, swimming with all their might. They were neck and neck, when suddenly a floaty landed right in front of both of them, blocking their path to the end of the pool. Their campers groaned at the abrupt end of the race when the life guards blew the whistle to signal everyone to get dried off.

“Saved by the whistle, weren’t you Namaari?” Raya asked grinning. Namaari snorted and rolled her eyes. “If anyone should be thankful for that bell it should be you Raya, I was about to win that race and you know it.” They continued their bickering until they walked back to their cabins.

One of the little girls grinned mischievously at Raya which made the eighteen year old girl feel very nervous. “Soooooo Raya, do you have a crush on Namaari?” She asked giggling. Raya gaped at the child with burning red cheeks. “I absolutely do NOT LIKE NAMAARI-“ she yelled in her defense as the girls kept on yelling how she totally did like Namaari. Raya groaned and thought of a way out of this mess.

“Who wants to go to arts and crafts?!” Raya yelled. The girls cheered in excitement and raced off to make some crafts. After the excitement of crafts, Raya rallied the girls to get their stuff together and head home for the day.

Once all of the children had gone, Raya crawled into Sisu’s car and whined, “Kids are such a handful I don’t know how I’ll survive four more days of this.”

“You’re just mad because a bunch of first graders called out your crush on Namaari” Sisu grinned. Raya bolted up right in her seat and friend at her blue haired buddy. “I do not have a crush on Namaari! I don’t know where those kids could have possibly gotten that idea,” she snapped.

Sisu nodded reassuringly. “Whatever you say Raya, whatever you say. Let’s go back to my place and eat some ice cream. You’ll feel better afterwards.” All Raya could do was nod in agreement and get whisked away to Sisu’s place. Raya closed her eyes and listened to the music blaring from the car, praying with all her might that the week will end before she strangled that stupidly attractive binturi.

(Guys I really hope this is adequate I am EXHAUSTED so I made so many spelling errors I promise I’ll fix them tomorrow but tonight I am hitting the hay I shall see you guys later)

[bigfan-fanfic]

What does Slytherin bf end up doing during the war? What are his family's views? Does he talk to them at all?

What does he think about Umbridge?? And the DA? Does he go to the dep of mysteries with Harry and gang??

It’s an interesting question, and ultimately that’s up to the reader. But personally, I imagine that the Slytherin is a pureblood wizard with a mother who supported the Death Eaters during the war and a father who vehemently opposed them and is outspoken for the end of pureblood bigotry, the advancement of Squib rights, and is even seen as radical for his campaigning for inviting other magical races to share in governing the magical world, or at least having a representative of their own race in office.

Needless to say, their relationship became strained when they realized their youthful love faced irreconcilable differences, but by then they already had a son. While they both love their son, it becomes increasingly hard for the family to stay together when the mother continues to lobby against Muggles and advocate against everything the father stands for - not to mention the mother ends up being estranged from her son because, to her mind, the father is poisoning him with Mudblood rhetoric.

The father is often called a blood traitor, but due to his family’s influence and wealth, he’s able to get away with it and earn the sucking-up from polite society, unlike families like the Weasleys. The mother’s family had all their assets seized due to Death Eater ties, so she can only do her Dark work in secret and meet up with old friends like Lucius and Rookwood occasionally. Both of them had jobs at the Ministry - the father in the Department of Foreign Affairs and the mother on the Auror Oversight Committee, where she curtailed efforts to apprehend former Death Eaters.

Basically he comes to Hogwarts with relief to get away from a not-great home situation, and nobody knows what he’s going to be like. His parents split when he ends up in Slytherin and sends a letter home saying that the people mother told him to befriend weren’t nice at all and he doesn’t like how they treat others. An argument between the parents ensues and the family splits. He stays with his father during the summers or holidays when he isn’t out campaigning or working with foreign wizards.

Even his mother knew to stay away from Dolores Jane Umbridge, so the prefect is wary of her at the very least. Despite her being an utter horrible person, his mother has communicated with Umbridge to ensure her son was not a target, as his father became more and more outspoken about supporting Dumbledore. He was able to use this to fly under Umbridge’s radar even as he remained boyfriends with Fred Weasley, son of a known Dumbledore-sympathizer.

The foundation of the Inquisitorial Squad was the last straw to break his Slytherin sense of self-preservation and he threw himself into not only “abusing his position as prefect” to protect the younger students of all Houses, but to hex, jinx, and curse the members of the Organization with impunity - it was also his suggestion to teach Deletrius, the Eradication Charm, to erase evidence of spells that could be revealed by Priori Incantatem. 

He became the first Slytherin member of the DA, seeing it as his duty to lead the lights of House Slytherin against the Dark Arts. He convinced trustworthy younger and older students to join in - consequently, Slytherin House became a battleground of dueling in which members of the Inquisitorial squad were ambushed or assaulted by others in both Muggle and magical dueling, and no students reported any misconduct for fear of further retaliation.

When the DA was revealed, it was the neutral of Slytherin House that made the most noise. Seeing their friends and classmates so brutally punished by Umbridge, so convinced You-Know-Who was back - these children of the ambitious and determined House spoke up. They wrote their fathers, their mothers, their Ministry uncles and aunts, telling them they would not stand for this. They organized defiant shout-downs of Umbridge’s class and ensured that every family member who could do something heard about their hands getting sliced open and their rights being taken away. Wizarding society was given more awareness by these brave students, and it was an incredible time for Inter-House unity.

The prefect did in fact go to the Department of Mysteries in the midst of sitting his N.E.W.T. Exams - he was allowed to retake his Muggle Studies N.E.W.T. the next month. It was there that he saw his mother for the first time in four years - as a Death Eater on the opposing side. The prefect in fact struck her with a vicious Heat Charm cast on her Death Eater mask, badly burning her and incapacitating her for the Aurors to lock up. He stayed behind protecting the members of the DA who were injured or knocked out, his knowledge of Healing Charms keeping Hermione Granger stable and reviving Luna Lovegood from a concussion. It’s a hard moment, but he cut himself off from his mother’s side of the family permanently from then on, renouncing his ties to any who worked with Voldemort.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

They Will Certainly See More

  “What do you mean Seymour isn’t here?!”

The stage manager’s eyes were wide and bulging in their sockets from her smoldering gaze. The queens couldn’t help but shy away slightly- all the crew members had an aura that nobody wanted to cross when worked up. 

  “She was sick,” Aragon explained. 

  “You couldn’t think to tell me this BEFORE the show was about to start?!” The stage manager snapped. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Are any of the alts here? Tell them to throw on some makeup and do their hair, they’re going on.”

  “Umm...no.” 

  “What?” The stage manager’s eyes snapped open to stare at Cathy.

  “None of them are here.”

  “WHAT?!”

The stage manager began to work herself up to a proper fit, barking and squawking at the queens and just about anyone who crossed her path like a jungle bird that just had its territory approached by a rivaling avian. She might have tore strips off the cast the entire time if it wasn’t for Anne suddenly piping up.

  “Wait!! What about Joan?”

That made the stage manager shut up. She snapped her mouth shut and blinked before all eyes turned over to the nearby music director, who, up until that point, was peacefully eating a yogurt cup.

  “What?” Joan said with the spoon still in her mouth.

  “That’s perfect!” The stage manager exclaimed. “Joan! Go get your makeup and hair done!”

  “My makeup and hair is already done?” Joan said. She was always ready an hour before the performance starts. “What’s going on?”

  “You’re performing as Jane,” The stage manager said. “Aragon, Parr, go help her into costume!”

  “Wait- What?!” Joan yelped, finally understanding. “I-I can’t- I-” But she was already being herded off into Jane’s dressing room.

The process of redoing her makeup and hair was hellish- there was a lot of tugging and pulling and painful brushing that scraped her scalp raw. She had to get an all new layer of makeup so she wouldn’t look washed out onstage and wouldn’t sweat it all off. Because she was sweating. A lot.

  “God, you’re soaked,” Cathy laughed slightly, combing back Joan’s hair.

  “Mm-hmm,” Joan merely replied. She was stiff in the chair, spine straightened in perfect posture for the first time in her life. Her hands clenched and unclenched anxiously in her lap. “G-guys, I--”

  “I got the costume,” Aragon cut her off, taking Jane’s dress off the rack. 

Joan actually gaped at it- were they really expecting her to wear that?!

  “Guys--”

  “Come on, stand up, Joan,” Aragon urged. “Let’s get this on you.”

  “Guys!” Joan finally spoke up. Her voice had raised a few pitches. “I-I don’t think I can do this…”

  “Of course you can!" Cathy said as she pulled her out of the chair. She and Aragon were being weirdly nice; usually they just ignored the music director unless they needed her for something. Joan guessed it was because they were in a rush and thought that being kind would get Joan to cooperate (which kinda worked).

  “You know the show by heart. There's no way you can screw it all up." Aragon smiled gently as she set the costume on the back of the chair. "We'll be outside whilst you change, call us when you're ready.”

And with that, Joan was alone in the dressing room.

Standing in Jane's dressing room with the woman was one thing, but when she was alone everything felt wrong. Joan felt like she was invading Jane's personal space. She knew it was stupid, Jane wasn't here. Jane was at home, sick.

Deciding to not dwell on it any longer, Joan quickly changed into the costume. The first thing she noticed about the dress was that it was heavy, much heavier than she had imagined. The second thing she noticed was that it didn't fit her at all. Instead of looking like it was tailored to her body, it simply hung from her shoulders, and she didn’t even want to THINK about how saggy it was around her smaller chest. She was practically drowning in the fabric, and Joan wondered if she could just wear her band costume and claim it as an emergency alternate costume, but then the five minute call blasted through the speaker.

Cathy and Aragon burst through the door, stumbling over each other as they tumbled into the room.

  “Come on Joan, the show is starting soon and we still need to have a mic check." Cathy said, giving Joan a quick glance. "You can't go on stage looking like that." Frantically, she and Aragon searched Jane's room for safety pins.

An announcement played over the speaker, saying the show was delayed for another ten minutes. Guilt started to consume Joan as she stood in the middle of Jane's dressing room. She must look rather pathetic, standing there in a dress too big and her face caked in makeup.

Suddenly, there’s hands cupping her cheeks and she flinches in surprise. Aragon is standing in front of her, holding her face while Cathy finished with the last of the pins. The golden queen tapped Joan’s cheek with a finger and Joan stopped trying to avoid her eyes like a dog that was caught drinking out of the toilet bowl, instead slowly meeting her patient gaze.

This was the first time Aragon had ever been affectionate or gentle with Joan. And Joan relished it.

  “You’re going to be okay.” Aragon told her. Her voice was smooth and warm, coiling up Joan’s neck and slithering right into her ears. It numbs her anxiety. 

  “B-but what if I--”

  “Shh...” Aragon stroked back a loose piece of hair that just didn’t want to stay down. She took a silver bobby-pin from her sleeve and pinned it back herself. “You’ll be just fine, darling. We know you can do this.”

  “B-but I-- OW!!”

  “Sorry!” Cathy called from behind Joan. “Yikes. That’s a lot of pins.” She laughed slightly. “But I’m sure it’s fine. The dress is silver, anyway! Matches the, uhh, color scheme!”

A chunk of ice drove itself into Joan’s stomach. She sets her trembling hands over her unsettled middle and Aragon quickly took them in her own. She squeezed them tightly. Oh how Joan wished she actually cared about her and wasn’t just doing this to get her to cooperate.

  “I can’t,” Joan whispered.

Despite always dreaming of getting to perform and dance and sing, actually having to do it sounded horrible. Perhaps because it was forced onto her and she didn’t have a say at all. It would probably be easier if she had volunteered herself.

Maybe.

  “You have to,” Aragon said. “I’m sorry. But I know you can do this.”

  “Come on,” Cathy said. 

The three of them walked down to the wings, where the other three queens and ladies in waiting were already in place onstage. Cathy and Aragon have to leave Joan, grabbing their mics and getting in their spots. Joan took Jane’s place a few moments after them. Right before the lights go out, she saw Maria, Bessie, Maggie, and even her dep giving her encouraging smiles and thumbs up. She shook her head nervously at them, pleading with her eyes for one of them to drop dead so she didn’t have to do this.

But alas.

Blackout.

A cacophony of anticipated murmurs swelled through the audience as the curtains part ever so slightly so the queens can walk out. They were just barely lit up by soft white lights bleeding dimly from backstage. Fog rolled out like great grey waves.

Then, pitch blackness once again.

She tripped. She knew she tripped or stumbled or something stupid while walking out of the curtains. She tripped or staggered or stepped wrong or something and now they all know she’s not Jane and they’re going to laugh at her and--

Joan couldn’t breathe. Her body was on autopilot as she followed along with the others, trying to walk the way Jane would normally walk (and yet she still messed that up with her slight stumble on her way out of the curtains). She hoped that she looked enough like the woman to fool the audience and keep them happy for at least half of the show before they got tired of seeing her as a fraud, but that was just wishful. They could take one look at her (or her chest) to know that she was not Jane Seymour.

And that scared her. 

She was scared of them booing or leaving just because she wasn’t the queen. Which was entirely stupid of her to worry over because the alts and swings went on all the time and everyone loved them. But her anxiety just wouldn’t register that as true facts. 

She was a fraud. And they were all going to laugh at her.

She really didn’t want to be laughed at...

A deep hum filled the auditorium- the beginning of Ex-Wives was starting. The sound seemed to rattle Joan to her very core as she listened to it. It honestly used to be serene and calming, but now it just filled her with icy cold dread. She wanted to throw up from the intense terror waving over her, but her stomach was in too tight of knots to eject anything at the moment.

  “Divorced.”

A cone of purple light rained down on Aragon. There were the twin beats. 

This whole part revolved a lot on timing, and Joan knew if she didn’t say her line at just the right moment, then she would throw Maria off. And she really didn’t want to embarrass her bandmates, too, so she gathered up as much confidence as she could and prepared herself. 

  “Beheaded.”

The purple light comes down on Anne. The twin beat resounds loudly.

This was her moment. One of her many moments, but a moment no less. She couldn’t fuck it up, not after the way she tripped.

The purple light spills its rays of amethyst over Joan and she takes a deep breath.

  “D-ied.”

The twin drum beat thumps heavily. Joan swore the thunderous pulse was enough to shatter her rapidly beating heart, which just picked up even more speed.

Her voice cracked. Her fucking voice cracked.

She wondered if it was possible to swallow her microphone whole and choke on it so she wouldn’t have to do this...

  “Divorced.”

A cone of light encased Anna. Joan exhaled deeply, no one seemed to notice. Maybe she could pretend to be sick, people have gone on sick before. Joan prayed that they had an alternate ready before Heart of Stone; she didn't know what she would do if she had to sing that song.

  “Beheaded.”

Joan was ready to run, she didn't care about letting the audience down. But then the image of Jane popped into her head, she was frowning, like she was disappointed. Disappointed in Joan. That thought made her stay on stage, rooted in her spot.

  “And tonight, London. We are…”

I can do this, She kept telling herself, hoping it would calm her down.

The pause seemed to last much longer than a few seconds. Her nerves mounted as she waiting. Joan raised the mic to her lips a bit early.

Then suddenly she saw Anne take a breath, meaning it was coming.

  “Live!" Joan's voice was stronger than she thought, an excited grin adorned her face. I got it! She praised herself.

The show flew by in a whirl of flashing lights, humming harmonies, and barely-contained pride. The longer she performed, the more Joan got comfortable with the role of being the third queen. And the audience didn’t even seem to mind! They looked like they really liked her!

It was just amazing. Every inch of her body was tingling in joy, fueled by an adrenaline rush that seemed to be made of liquid gold. She hadn’t been this energetic about anything in a long time. Her limbs would ache the next day, but she didn’t care. She just continued to sing and dance and be genuinely happy.

The MegaSix soon rolled around, meaning the show would be over soon, and Joan found herself slightly sad while she danced along with the queens. She wished she could play this part forever, that she could always be in the spotlight like this. People would praise her name: Joan Meutas, the False Silver Queen. And they would love her, they would want her autograph and ask to take pictures with her and go to brag to their friends about meeting her.

It would be incredible.

Joan was so wrapped up in dancing and fantasizing her own popularity that she didn’t even realize something was wrong until a cold breeze hit her bare belly.

...Bare?

The audience gasped, yelped, shouted, laughed, whistled.

Cameras flashed.

The queens turned to her, frozen, eyes bulging out of their skull, mouths hanging open like their jaws had been unhinged.

Petrified, Joan slowly looked down at her naked body, shielded only by a bra and underwear, and the silver dress around her feet.

[hopecountysfavhoe]

‘Cold’ Chapter Sixteen Pt.1

Rating: 18+? This rating thing is harder than I thought it would be lmao

Word count: 2,271

The Deputy woke up in a familiar bed. Her head was pounding, causing her to keep her eyes shut. Then she heard it.

Beep, beep, beep.

     The gentle beeping of the heart rate monitor in the clinic. Instantly her eyes shot open. The Deputy looked around at the room she was in, it was the clinic room she fought to get out of so desperately. She tried to rub her face but something blocked her hand from lifting. She looked down and saw that her hands were hand cuffed to the edge of the clinic bed.

     She tried to remember what happened and how she got to the clinic. She remembered shooting with Grace and the walk back to the church but after that it got dark. Panic suddenly grabbed hold as she went down the list of what could have happened. What if she heard 'Only You' and hurt Grace? What if she hurt Nick or Kim or even worse, Carmina? The Deputy struggled against the handcuffs, desperately trying to find someone to tell her what happened.

     Hearing the Deputy struggle, the doctor walked in to check on her.

     "Good, you're awake." She greeted in a kind voice and pulled out a clipboard.

     "What happened? Did I hurt anybody? Why am I handcuffed?" The words stumbled out of the Deputy's mouth quicker than she could sit up.

     "Everything is fine, you just gave your friends a good scare. You were shot with a Bliss Bullet but thankfully Grace was able to get you out of harms way before any Peggies got their hands on you. As for your handcuffs those are just precautionary to make sure you don't hurt yourself or yank out an IV." Relief from the doctor's words instantly made the Deputy relax. She leaned back into the bed, not straining against her holds. "All of the Bliss should be out of your system by now." The Doctor said and checked an IV she had hooked up to the Deputy.

     "How long do I have to stay here?" The Deputy asked as the doctor unlocked her handcuffs.

     "I can discharge you now, but you have to use your crutch. And have you been taking your pills?" The doctor asked and the Deputy nodded while rubbing her wrists.

     "Everyday at the 8 am and again at 8pm." The Deputy informed her and the doctor nodded.

     She scribbled a note on her clipboard before she looked down at the Deputy. Her face told the Deputy exactly what she was going to say before she even said it. "What did I say about gunfights?" She asked.

     "I didn't even do anything this time! I was just walking with Grace and I got shot." The Deputy defended herself and the doctor nodded.

     "Look, I get it. You don't like taking a break, you want to get back out there and protect people but your health has to come first." The doctor lectured her and the Deputy pushed her hair out of her face.

     "I understand but I can't just take a break. People die if I take a break, my friends die if I take a break." The Deputy argued and the doctor held up her hands defensively, she didn't want to get the Deputy too upset.

     "While you heal a little more just help people in a different way, maybe you can deliver food to people or help plant a garden? Just something that doesn't get you put in harms way. You got lucky this time, Deputy. Your reaction to the Bliss didn't cause you to re-injure  yourself, but I don't know if that kind of luck will last. I'm discharging you but you still need to be back for that two week check up." The doctor's words were firm and the Deputy knew there would be no swaying her mind.

     But the Deputy was an adult and she could make her own decisions, even if they were the wrong ones so the Deputy just agreed to whatever the doctor told her to do so that she could stop fussing even if she knew she would ignore the doctor. The Deputy got discharged and left the clinic, happy to be out of that place.

     She found her truck sitting in the driveway, that must have been what Grace drove her to the clinic in. The Deputy got in and drove back to Nick and Kim's house to apologize for scaring them.

     When she pulled up to the house Nick was working on his truck in the front driveway. "Hey Nick." The Deputy greeted and got out of her truck.

     Nick was bent over the hood, fiddling with something in engine. When he heard the truck pull up he glanced back to see who it was. When he saw the Deputy get out of the truck he backed out of the hood and turned to face her.

     "Hey Dep, how are ya feeling?" He asked and immediately the Deputy noticed he had a black eye.

     "What happened to your eye?" The Deputy ignored his question.

      "It's nothing." Nick turned back to look at the truck, he always did that when he was deflecting.

      "Did I do that to you?" The Deputy asked, her tone softened with concern.

     Nick turned back around to face the Deputy, his head angled toward the dirt. "Kinda, well not really, but yeah..."

     The Deputy rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry." She apologized. "Did I hurt anyone else?"

     "No, me and Grace held you down before you could hurt anybody." He admitted and the Deputy let out a deep sigh.

     "I'm really sorry, Nick. It won't ever happen again." The Deputy kept apologizing, shame and fear evident in her voice.

      "Hey Dep it's ok, I know it wasn't directed towards me. It's fine now anyway right?" Nick asked and the Deputy shook her head.

     "I shouldn't be here, I'm putting you and Kim and Carmina at risk especially with John looking for me." The Deputy told Nick and he looked to the ground.

      "As much as I hate it, I think that's true. I'm sorry Dep, you know you're welcome anytime but maybe you should stay somewhere safer, just till things die down a little bit." He suggested and the Deputy nodded.

     "I'm gonna go stay with Sharky for a while ok? Just until things blow over some. I have to go grab my crutch and my jacket." The Deputy wasn't angry with Nick's suggestion, actually she was happy about it. Now she didn't have to worry about taking advantage of Nick and Kim or about John's men coming in in the middle of the night for her.

     Nick nodded and let her go to the house. "Kim isn't here, just so you know. She took Carmina over to a friends house." Nick advised the Deputy.

     "Got it, thanks." The Deputy walked up the front steps and made short work of finding her crutch and jacket. It looked like it was in the middle of being mended. Kim has stitched up numerous holes and the frayed hem of her sleeve. The Deputy didn't remember asking her to do that but it was heart warming.

     Honestly the Deputy didn't know why she'd even come there other than Kim's wishes. She was putting everyone in that home in danger just by being near it, she was putting Carmina in danger. The thought of something happening to any of them because of her made the Deputy's stomach turn.

     Before she left the Deputy found a piece of paper and wrote a note to Nick and Kim thanking them for letting her stay with them. She set the note on the coffee table and grabbed her jacket and crutch and left the house. She said one final goodbye to Nick and drove off.

While she drove the Deputy felt around in the pockets of her jeans until she found what she was looking for. It was a small paper note that she'd peeled off the Bliss bullet when it first shot her. Now she unfolded the tiny note and read what it said.

Come home, soldier.

It was Jacob, he'd found her.

The Deputy fumed while she drove. Jacob fucking Seed was the one that shot her, or at least he sent one of his men to shoot her. Everything added up to him being there though. There was no capture party, there were no hunters, nobody to pick her up. He just shot her with a Bliss bullet to fuck with her head, not to kidnap her.

The Deputy muttered curses to herself (and Jacob) while she watched the scenery around her change from the warm sunny fields of Holland Valley to the tall pines and old cabins of the Whitetail Mountains. She may have told Nick that she was going to spend sometime with Sharky but she changed her mind. She had some revenge to take.

She'd already called Jess on the radio and asked her to meet her at the lumbar mill. Jess was more than happy to agree, especially after hearing the vengeful tone in her voice. When she pulled up to the lumbar mill Jess was already standing out front, her bow ready in her hands. The Deputy didn't get out of the truck, just stopped and let Jess get in.

"Where are we going?" Jess asked while she hopped in the passenger seat.

"I don't know but it might get messy." The Deputy warned as she backed out the way she came.

They drove in silence for a while, not even listening to the radio. Jess glanced over at the Deputy. "Not that I don't love this new vengeful side of you but I gotta ask, where is it coming from?" She asked as the Deputy pulled down a random dirt road.

"You know how they say 'it's all fun and games till you kick the hornets' nest'?" The Deputy asked and slowed the truck to a halt.

"I don't think anyone says that but I get the point." Jess admitted and looked over at the Deputy while she put the truck in park.

"Well Jacob Seed has officially kicked this hornet's nest." The Deputy shut off the truck and hopped out. Jess followed her as she marched into the woods.

"Alright! Now we can have some real fun!" Jess exclaimed and hefted her bow. "What are we gonna do to him?"

"We're pretty close to the Veterans Centre, aren't we?" The Deputy asked and Jess nodded. "We're going to send Jacob a little surprise." The dark tone in the Deputy's voice was making Jess uncomfortable. Yes that is Jess as in the trash-talking, scary Jess. So her being uncomfortable meant a lot.

"What are you planning?" She asked hesitantly. She of course wanted to fuck with Jacob but she didn't know how far the Deputy was willing to go.

"You'll see." The Deputy assured her and snuck through the trees. They walked in silence until they could hear the sound of the Veterans Centre, the men training and Judges howling, the trucks driving in and out. It was bustling. The Deputy and Jess managed to avoid every guard that Jacob had stationed around the place as a perimeter.

They got pretty close to the Veterans Centre, perched up on the same hill that Jess was shooting the guards from when they got the Deputy back. The Deputy looked into the Centre with her binoculars.

"What are we doing?" Jess whispered to her friend.

"I need you to shoot one of those guards with your bow."

"Sounds easy."

"And I want you to tie this on your arrow." The Deputy handed Jess a small note. Jess unfolded it and read it.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you do this?" Jess asked as the Deputy went back to counting guards with her binoculars.

"Don't worry, I have a plan. Can you do it?" She asked and Jess, of course, nodded.

Jess refolded the note and tied it to an arrow. "Who do you want me to hit?"

The Deputy found a guard standing on the front step that seemed perfect. He was in clear view of most everyone there and besides, how perfect would it be to send Jacob a message right to his front door? "The one on the front step." She said and Jess nodded.

It was a pretty far shot but Jess knew she could make it. She pulled the arrow back in her bow, aiming for the perfect arch to hit the guard. She took a deep breath and let the arrow fly. Immediately they both ducked down to prevent getting spotted and the Deputy peaked in at the scene of chaos through her binoculars.

The arrow hit dead on in the guards neck, causing him to crumble immediately. As quick as he fell the entire Centre erupted like an anthill. People rushed and grabbed guns, preparing for an attack. "That's our queue." The Deputy nodded to Jess and they both turned and slid down the hill further into the forest and away from the Veterans Centre.

It wouldn't take long for Jacob's men to radio the guards around the perimeter to be on high alert so the Deputy and Jess had to make it past the guards first. They made their escape with only the one casualty, not killing a single other guard or hunter or anything.

When they made it to the Deputy's truck she couldn't help but grin. She knew for sure that that was going to get Jacob's attention. Now all she had to do was wait.

[themovieblogonline]

Civil War Review: Alex Garland's Heartwrenching War Masterpiece

When you go to the theatre to see a brand new Alex Garland movie, you know that it's not going to be a conventional movie by any means. Even his most accessible movie in my opinion - Ex Machina - is still an absolutely enthralling and bizarre dive into science fiction. The same can also be said about his follow-up film Annihilation. And although I know that a lot of people out there loathe Men with a passion, I personally think it's an excellent horror film that never fails to get under my skin, even if it's maybe not as good as it was the first time I saw it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDyQxtg0V2w Although I was familiarized with Garland's filmography before seeing his latest film Civil War, nothing could've truly prepared me for the emotionally taxing and genuinely depressing journey the movie was going to take me on. It's the kind of movie that, as soon as the credits are finished rolling, you feel absolutely disgusted to your core but you also recognize that the film that you just watched is a total work-of-art. Truth be told, Civil War will be a difficult movie to rewatch because of its imagery and subject matter. But it's also one of the best movies of the year, and one of the best war movies ever made. It stands out as a profound commentary on the fabric of American society. Additionally, it delves into politics through the lens of a dystopian war drama. Set in a future America where divisions have escalated into a full-blown Second Civil War, the film intricately explores themes of loyalty, ideology, and the price of freedom through the journey of a team of journalists navigating the ravaged landscape. With a cast led by Kirsten Dunst, Wagner Moura, Cailee Spaeny, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Sonoya Mizuno, and Nick Offerman, the film delivers a powerfully resonant narrative that captivates from start to finish. Garland's screenplay weaves a harrowing tale that, while dystopian, feels uncomfortably possible. It paints a grim picture of a nation torn asunder by its own contradictions. Kirsten Dunst's portrayal of Lee Smith, a photojournalist caught between her duty to report the truth, is particularly compelling. Her character's resilience and determination, juxtaposed with her vulnerabilities, make for a nuanced performance that anchors the film. Wagner Moura's Joel serves as a fitting counterpart, blending cynicism with an unexpected depth of emotion. The young Cailee Spaeny, as the aspirational Jessie, represents the heart of the film. Through her eyes, we witness the transformation from naivety to the stark realization of war's brutalities. One can only hope that Spaeny continues to receive incredible roles. Honestly, I'd go as far as to say that she deserves an Oscar for this performance. Stephen McKinley Henderson’s portrayal of the wise yet fatalistic Sammy offers a masterclass in supporting roles. He leaves an indelible mark despite limited screen time. Meanwhile, Nick Offerman's casting as the President—serving an unprecedented third term—was an inspired choice. Offerman channels an unsettling blend of charisma and menace, making the dictator all the more believable and chilling. Garland’s direction is meticulous, crafting scenes of urban warfare and quieter moments of introspection with equal care. His choice to showcase the stark contrast between the chaos of the battlefield and the eerie normalcy found in pockets of the war-torn nation underscores the absurdity and tragedy of civil conflict. The pacing of the film, coupled with its haunting score and visually arresting cinematography, builds a crescendo. It will leave viewers on the edge of their seats. Particularly noteworthy are the action sequences in Charlottesville, Virginia, and the heart-pounding ending. Both of which showcase Garland’s ability to handle large-scale set pieces without losing focus on the human element. The film's commentary on journalism is another layer that adds depth to the narrative. Lee and her team's ethical dilemmas challenge the audience to consider media's role in shaping perceptions of war. The bold narrative choice forces the audience to confront the moral ambiguity of vengeance and justice in times of war. It shows Garland's exploration of human darkness and revolutionary complexities. The final image of the film is a chilling reminder of the cycle of violence. Overall: Civil War is a masterful addition to the genre of dystopian war films. It offers a riveting, albeit bleak, vision of America's future that resonates with the current global political climate. With standout performances, particularly from Dunst and Moura, and Garland's expert direction, the film achieves a rare balance of thrilling entertainment and thoughtful commentary. Read the full article

[western-writer]

New Beginnings

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Warnings: mentions of killing one's self, slight language, slight descriptions of death, and mentions of death itself

Summary: When the Resistance accidentally almost gets the Deputy killed, members take a step back to evaluate their actions. When Dep finally wakes, she's troubled about her health and is unsure how to move on with life.

A/n: this isn't edited but I've been working on this one for a really long time and I honestly love how it turned out so enjoy!

The stillness and lack of gun power in the air made some residents of Hope County question if yesterday's events actually happened.

Mary May stands behind the bar, leaned on the counter and being supported by a single arm. The other arm is occupied with the task of bringing her drink to her lips so she can nurse the strong beverage. Her eyes are glossy. Her mind is off in a distant place. She wishes nothing more than to leave.

The rising sun's light leaks into the bar as the door opens and disappears as the door shuts. Pastor Jerome Jefferies enters, sharing a forlorn look with Mary May. He strides toward her and takes a seat on a barstool.

"Penny for your thoughts," Jerome murmurs, pouring himself a glass of the dark liquid.

Mary May inhales sharply before breaking her gaze on a barstool scratch on the wooden floor.

"Was yesterday actually real or did I just have an incredibly vivid, terrible dream?" She pushes herself up on the counter, now leaning on the heel of her hand.

"Unfortunately, all too real," Jerome responds regretfully.

Mary May sighs. Blood on her hand catches her eye and she jumps, pained by the sight. Pastor Jerome catches this and follows her eyes.

"You should wash that off," he advises.

Nodding slowly, Mary May takes a wet wash rag from the counter and wipes her hands off and then tosses the rag into the trash. For that one, she thinks, it's best to just throw away.

She runs both hands over her face, muttering a question to Pastor Jerome. "Why'd we do it? Why the HELL did we do it?"

"People do some stupid things when they're scared," he answers. "That doesn't make it right, but it makes us human."

"I wish humans weren't so stupid," Mary May says angrily.

Laying in a bed in a coma is Rook. Beside her is a very, very angry Kim Rye. She told the Resistance it was a bad idea. She told them to trust the Deputy. They didn't listen and it almost cost Rook her life. It still might.

Her husband, Nick, enters the room and stands in the doorway meekly. He knows he's part of the reason Rook is where she is, and he doesn't know if Kim will ever forgive him for his part.

"How's she doin'?" he questions.

Kim responds without looking at him. "Still pretty fucking lifeless, Nick. She's being kept alive by machines."

He stares at Rook, at where he knows the bullets pierced her body. He wants to say something else. He should say something else, but he can't bring himself to. His chest aches, ridden with guilt.

"If she doesn't wake up..." Kim starts to say before taking a breath to calm herself. "If she doesn't wake up, Nick... I will NEVER forgive you. Do you understand that?"

Nick sighs. "I understand. I won't forgive myself either."

Sharky hadn't slept all night. The image of Rook's unmoving body in a pool of her own blood is burned into his brain. Everytime he shut his eyes he saw it, almost like it was tattooed on the inside of his eye lids. He was stupid and he knew it. Rook always made the right call when it came down to it. What made him think this time would be any different? He couldn't bring himself to trust the cult to keep their word, and in turn, that meant he didn't trust Rook.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he mutters to himself, pacing his trailer. The words rolled out of his mouth over and over until he couldn't bare to talk anymore.

"Goddammit, Shark," he cusses himself. "You really fucked it this time."

He couldn't pull himself out of his dread long enough to go see her. He isn't sure if he even wants to see her in the first place. Seeing her like that... he's not sure he'll be able to bounce back from it, especially if Rook doesn't make it.

An ear piercing scream rips through the air, giving the echoing sound of the gun shot that just fired a run for it's money. A collective gasp and stunned scream comes from bystanders as the unarmed follower drops to her knees, blood spurting from the bullet hole in her neck. Nick's plane flies over them, dropping bombs uncomfortably close to them, which sends everyone into a panic.

Rook dives into cover as the cult begins to return fire. She's weaponless which makes her helpless. Frantically, Rook looks around, hoping to find a discarded weapon. Her eyes land on one not far from her, dropped on the ground presumably by the now dead body next to it. She waits until an opening and makes a break for the weapon, but she falls short when a large boot comes into contact with her face. The force of the kick knocks her onto her back and she peers up at the culprit.

"Was this a set up!?" the Chosen member in front of Rook screams at her. This particular Chosen happened to have a gun, and was now pointing it right at Rook.

"No! No! Of course not!" Rook shouts back, trying desperately to be heard over the gunfire. She looks around, hoping to see Joseph somewhere, but, of course, Joseph is no where to be found. She cusses to herself, knowing he would believe her when she said this was not her idea.

"Awfully convenient," he remarks, rounding on her like a predator stalks it's prey. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she watches the barrel of the gun circle her.

Gunfire around them seemed to cease as the only thing Rook could hear was the sound of his boots hitting the ground. Then, three gun shots fire off and the world goes silent. Two bullet land themselves in Rook's chest and the third in the head of the cultist that just shot Rook.

The fight lasted no more than a few minutes before the cultist got his hands on Rook, yet claimed many lives, starting with the unarmed cultist and potentially ending with Rook.

Rook had laid in her own blood for almost thirty seconds before someone came to her aid. Mary May was quick to put press on the wounds. Eventually, under Joseph's order, his doctor's rushed her away for emergency surgery. The rest of them were left at the battle site, wondering if Rook would pull through.

"I knew it was a bad idea," Eli mumbled, unsure if anyone was listening. "You all were so angry when I said not to participate and look what happened!"

The Whitetails in front of Eli cringe at his loud voice. They're now thankful they didn't participate in the bloodbath that might take the Deputy away.

"You were right, Eli," Wheaty responds. "I'm sorry for ever doubting you."

"Eli, come on. You have to admit that we had absolutely no reason to believe that the cult would really back down if we did."

"You're right, Tammy. We had no reason to trust the cult, but we had every reason to trust Dep. Look at all she's done for us, at everything she's been through because of the cult. She just wanted peace and the rest of them couldn't let her have that."

Silence falls over the small crowd and Eli sighs, setting his bow down on the table.

"I'm going to see her. I advise that you all just stay here."

Standing outside the room, Eli hears multiple voices and comes to the conclusion that one of them belongs to Kim Rye. She hasn't left Rook's side since she came here.

"Thank you... for, you know, taking care of her."

"Of course," another female voice responds. It sounds familiar to Eli but he can't quite place it. After a pause and a heavy sigh, Eli enters the room. He finds Kim sitting in a chair beside the bed, Faith Seed administering medicine. Kim turns and sees Eli. She stands up and walks over to hug him quickly.

"Thank you for coming," Kim says to him. Eli nods to her and then Faith.

"Faith," he says, nodding his head as if he's tipping a hat. "How's she doin'?"

"She's making progress," Faith responds. "She was lucky that both bullets didn't kill her on impact. These bullets could've easily hit her heart. It would've been over before it started."

Eli sighs and pulls up a chair, sitting beside Kim.

"All we can do is keep her comfortable and keep infection from setting in. The machines will do the rest until her body can take over."

"When do you think that will be?"

"We can't be sure, if I'm being honest. Maybe she'll just wake up."

Kim smiles sadly. "I'll never forget her rolling up to the airstrip in Nick's plane like she owned the place. That's how I knew she was different than the rest. That's the moment I was sure she was our hope." Kim glances at Eli, then back at Rook. "Have you talked to any of the Resistance?"

"Not besides my Whitetails. Have you?"

"Just Nick."

"I wonder how the others are coping..."

"I imagine not well," Faith pipes up. "Everyone I talk to talks so highly of her, even some followers. She's a force to be reckoned with, I know that first hand." Faith smiles a bit before it falls. "Can I ask you both something?"

"Sure," Eli and Kim respond.

"Would both have been satisfied with a peace treaty? Like, actually satisfied or would you have rathered to eradicate us but settled for peace?"

It takes the two of them a minute to respond. Eventually Kim speaks up.

"If I'm being honest, I wasn't pleased with it at first. It was only after talking to Dep about a lot did I come around to being at peace with the idea."

"Same here. It definitely took a lot of contemplating, but at the end of the day, I came around thanks to Dep."

"Why? You both spoke so openly about wishing death on my family. What changed?"

Kim and Eli share a look before Kim answers for the both of them. "I think both Eli and I can agree that it was seeing what this fight was doing to Dep. She was constantly anxious and paranoid. She didn't sleep and when she did the nightmares made it pointless. The weight of the county was on her shoulders and it wasn't fair. If living peacefully with you all meant Dep would finally have peace, it was worth it."

A small smile makes it way onto Faith's lips. "I think in a different life her and I could've been friends..."

Footsteps behind them pull the three of them out of their conversation to look behind them. Walking up the hallway is Deputy Pratt followed closely by Jacob Seed. Pratt's eyes go wide when he sees her.

"W-w-what happened to her?" he questions, moving to stand beside her bed.

"Shot," Jacob answers gruffly.

"How?" Pratt responds.

"While trying to discuss a peace treaty with Eden's Gate," Faith answers before Jacob can, effectively silencing whatever insensitive answer Jacob had.

Jacob rolls his eyes at her, leaning against the doorframe.

"What happened to the person that did this?" Staci asks, looking around at everyone.

"I dealt with him personally," Jacob answers coldly.

Staci looks away from Jacob and back to Rook. He hoped she'd never have to be in this position.

Days went by and the worry through out the county intensified. Rook wasn't showing any signs of waking up anytime soon. Finally, after ten days and being in a coma she opened her eyes at 2:37 AM. Beside her still in a restless sleep was Kim Rye. Kim's eyes shot open the moment she sensed Rook being awake.

"Oh, my God, Deputy!" Kim exclaimed, jumping up and running to her. "I'm gonna take this tube out of your mouth, okay?" Rook nods back slightly and very carefully Kim pulls the tube out of her throat.

Rook groans, looking at her bandaged body and fighting the rasp in her throat to say something. She can't find the words but Kim knows exactly what she's trying to say.

"You-you were shot, Deputy. Point blank in the chest twice. While you were trying to negotiate peace." Kim chokes up a little bit, overwhelmed by happiness.

Rook's eyes dart around the ceiling as so many questions bounce in her head.

"I'll explain more later, but right now we need to get you checked out. We have to make sure you haven't sustained any serious damage besides the obvious." Kim puts her hand on Rook's shoulder before turning to walk out of the room. She stops before exiting and turns back to Rook. "It's good to see you awake, Deputy. We were -I was - starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up."

Two weeks after waking up Rook was ready to sit up. After two months she was standing, something they feared she may never do again, and only a month after that she was walking again with help.

Many people around the county came to her aid, offering to help her with whatever she needed. They did a great job at keeping her occupied and entertained. When she was well enough, many would take her for short car rides around the county, and Nick even took her up in his plane once.

Dep had almost no memory of that day. She remembers laying on the ground with a gun in her face and then waking up in the hospital bed. Kim, though, took the liberty of filling her in, explaining what the Resistance did. At first Rook was angry. She was so angry that they doubted her so much that they took such drastic measures. But she saw the guilt the carried when they'd visit her. She could hear it in their words and see it in their actions. They were trying so hard to make it up to her.

Eventually, Rook was able to let go of her anger towards them and be able to understand why they did it. While it doesn't excuse their actions, it certainly helped Rook understand. Her understanding was what led her to forgiving.

Talk of a peace agreement began to circle the county when Rook made an off hand comment about intending to follow through with that once she was fully recovered. Though true, Rook was worried about her health. While the bullets missed her heart, she sustained damage to her lungs and spinal cord. Rook doesn't vocalize these fears until a night where Jacob was tasked with watching her overnight.

She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the floor when Jacob entered with dinner for them both. He sets the bag down next to her and takes a seat beside the bed. She reaches for it, opening it.

"Chicken tenders, fuck yeah," she says, pulling the food out of the bag.

Jacob props his feet up on the chair beside him and takes a bit of his burger. Rook slowly eats her food.

"So, you still wanna go through with a peace agreement, huh?"

Rook looks up at him cautiously, surprised that he's making conversation.

"I would like to, yes," Rook answers.

Jacob grunts a reply. He was never a fan of the idea of surrender. But Joseph said it's what God wants, and what Joseph says, goes.

"I wouldn't expect you to like the idea, Jacob. But the amount of relief I felt when Joseph agreed was astronomical. Like a huge weight off my shoulders."

Jacob looks up at her. She's staring at the floor again.

"I guess my relief wasn't long lived." She takes a long, ragged breath and takes another bite.

"You know," he starts. "When I first saw you in that church, my expectations for you were so low, but you proved me wrong."

"I don't think that counts of a compliment, Jake."

Jacob rolls his eyes. "It's not supposed to be one. I was just sayin'."

Rook sighs and carefully slides back, moving to lay on the bed. She tries to move her leg without using her hands. Jacob watches her for a second before she gives up and uses her hands to lift each leg onto the bed. She leans back, staring right at the ceiling. She glances at him and he can tell that something is on her mind. He recognizes the look.

"Spill it," he demands. "Something's bothering you. Spill it."

"Like you care," Rook responds.

"I don't," Jacob snaps back. "But if I have to deal with that fuckin' look on your face all night, I'll kill myself."

Rook sighs, looking down at her legs. "I'm worried about my health, Jacob. The bullets damaged a lung and my spinal cord."

Jacob stares at her.

"The fact that I have any feeling in my legs is a miracle... but I may never be able to walk without assistance ever again. And even if I can, my bad lung will make it nearly impossible to do anything ever again. I probably won't be able to work at all, let alone go back to being a cop."

"Why'd you wanna go back to your job after everything?"

Rook smiles a bit. "I've never felt like I belong more than when I'm in that uniform. And now I'm not even 30 and my career is over. I felt so... content being able to help people and now that chance is gone. Early retirement here I come."

"You're afraid that you'll never have a purpose again, right?"

Rook stops before slowly nodding.

Jacob sits there calmly and Rook continues to ramble on and he actually listens. He surprised at all the information she reveals to him. He never would've guessed that all that had been going on inside her head. Finally, she pauses and Jacob decides to interject.

"You've got something goin' for you, Deputy. More than I ever did when I was discharged from the army."

Rook stops, looking at him and wondering where this is going. "And what would that be, Jacob?"

Jacob sighs, leaning back in his chair. "You've got a whole county dedicated to you, Dep. That's more than I can say for myself. I was a mess before Joseph found me. But these people... they won't let that happen to you. I know they won't. They feel too guilty and care about you too much. You'll find your purpose, Dep. It'll just take a little time."

Rook is stunned by Jacob's words, and so is Jacob himself. But the words are burned into her brain whether she wants them to be or not.

Rook heals more and begins to become more mobile. As she promised, she follows through with the peace agreement and the whole county shows up to witness history. Only when she's standing there in front of all the people she had fought for and fought against does she finally understand the meaning of Jacob's words. She doesn't need to be a cop to help people. She's helping them right now. She's bringing peace to their home.

It takes some time after peace settled in the county for things to go back to normal. Rook, being tired of staying at home doing nothing began to search for jobs she could do with her limited mobility and damaged lung. It was difficult and after a while she began to lose hope. Then, out of no where she received a letter from Jacob explaining to her to per the peace agreement, he was converting the Vet's Center back to an actual sanctuary for lost and broken veterans that need help getting back on their feet. In the letter, Jacob offers her a management position, claiming her to be the best person for the job that he knows. He understands that the job might a little bit demanding for her given her health, but he's willing to work with her on it if she agrees.

Rook is floored by this surprisingly kind gesture and she takes the job on the spot.

Working along side Jacob like this, she learns so much more about him and his family that she never would've learned otherwise.

One day, while they're working, Jacob admits to her that he was the one that killed the person that shot her.

"I didn't even think about it. We arrived to the chaos and when I saw him shoot you I just... acted."

"You saved my life that day, Jacob. Who knows how many more times he would've shot me."

Jacob nods, almost dismissively, but now she just knows that's how he is. Somehow, in a round a bought sort of way, they became friends. They all did. Resistance members were now actively helping members of Eden's Gate with random projects and visa versa. None of the ever thought that this would come from a truce, but they all agree that it feels good to have a new beginning. It feels good to feel safe again. And that's all thanks to Rook.

[yanara126-writing]

The Adventures of Hildraed Dawnsbane - Interlude 1 (2/?)

Farmer, Pirate, Menace, Captain, Dawnsbane. Hildraed has many titles, she really could have lived well without Watcher.

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Read here or on Ao3. (1641 words)

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

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Aloth hadn’t exactly expected much from this place, it was at best a mudhole, and at worst something that he would prefer not to voice. Still, Gilded Vale had somehow managed to disappoint him. Not only was he alone without any guidance, he was now also being threatened with immediate disembowelment. In the dark and rain. Woedica have mercy on him.

“I meant no offense. Let's put this matter to rest over a round, shall we? My treat.” Not that he particularly wanted to spend more of his coin here, but better coin than blood.

The man before him narrowed his eyes at him even more, the bloodshot red of his eyes sending shivers down Aloth’s back as memories shot through his uninvited. He didn’t much register the drunkards next words, but he couldn’t possibly miss as… she suddenly surged forward, sending a painful stab into his brain that had his stars dance in front of his eyes. When the sight was clear again, it wasn’t only the drunkard’s eyes that were red, instead his whole face was a dep red, and the anger had morphed into a blind rage.

He wanted to step back, but his feet were rooted to the ground. Hot and cold shivers ran through his body as he stared in horror, desperately trying to stutter out apologies for whatever she’d said. Somehow he managed to slowly reach for his grimoire, not that it would do him much good in a fight three against one.

Suddenly loud laughter rang from behind the three drunkards, splitting the night and boiling atmosphere with the coldness of shock. It was an ugly sort of laughter, loud and bellowing and dry, none of the refined, tasteful chuckles of his home.

When his opponents turned around to see whoever had snuck up only to bark their soul out with laughter, Aloth too risked shifting his attention behind them.

When he first saw the woman, he thought she was a walking dead. On the second look he could concede that she probably wasn’t, but only by a hair’s breadth. Even in the dark he could see her skin was paler than it seemed to usually be, blanched of colour and warmth. Her brown hair was hanging down her face in sticky strand, covered in some sort of substance that Aloth didn’t care to consider further. Her clothes seemed practical but not cheap, which made him wince even more at their state. They were ripped in places, dirty (and probably bloody from the looks of it), and generally mistreated, in a way that made Aloth feel self-conscious about himself.

It took her quite a while to somewhat calm down again, though she didn’t seem to mind the four people watching her with morbid fascination as she smeared dirt even further over her weathered features.

When she looked up again, directly into his eyes, Aloth felt the icey fear from before return. Three against one was already bad, four would be worse. And something about her sharp stare directly into his soul told him that should she choose to end him, he would not survive.

She stepped forward and Aloth gripped his grimoire and felt his knuckles turn white.

“Ah well, now that we have that absolute gem of an accusation, how about you all fuck off and get to keep your innards for another day.” Surprise and relief flooded him as she turned her attention to his assailants, even he cringed at both the roughness of her voice and words. He doubted the drunkards would take the not very subtle hint.

“Ay, we don’t like getting told what to do by outsiders!” Of course not. Still he wasn’t fast enough, his fingers fumbling just a bit too long with the heavy book to prevent the first punch from being thrown.

Though when he finally had it out, he was too stunned to react either way. The woman fought like a typhoon, dodging hits and decking out punches with a speed that he hadn’t expect from one looking so battered. Neither had their opponents apparently, and the fight was over as quickly as it had begun. He wasn’t sure the bodies on the ground were still breathing.

The woman certainly was though, gasping for and listing slightly to the side, eyes now unfocused and almost slightly misted.

He licked his lips, looking for the right words to say. He now had confirmation that he did not want to anger this woman.

“Well… Thank you for that.” A rather listless thanks, but at least a thanks nonetheless. A snort was his answer, followed by an ugly sounding spitting sound as a clomp of blood landed on the ground.

“You’re welcome.”

“Are- are you alright?” On the one hand he wanted to kick himself for not taking the opportunity and just leaving, but now she was listing even further, eyes starting to cross a little, and he was genuinely she was about to just keel over. And now matter how frightening she seemed, she had just saved his hide. Just letting her faint here would be at very least bad manners.

“Do I look like it?” Her eyes focused just enough on him to give him the same disappointed stare his teachers had given him every time he’d failed to give an answer, and Aloth shrunk back a little.

“N-no?”

“No, that’s right lad.” She sighed and fished a hairs strand from her mouth, staring at instead of him now with the same disappointment.

Despite the very strange circumstances and the fact that he healthily intimidated by her, now that the immediate danger of disembowelment was over, he felt strangely drawn to her. She was certainly a character, and a far more capable one than he’d first expected. Looking at her more closely (and pushing away his disgust), he found a fine scar down the side of her face, and a vaguely familiar looking tattoo on the other, though he couldn’t place it in the moment. On her back she carried a sword, somewhat hidden by her bulky cloak. A little surprised by his own boldness he made decision, fuelled by desperation to get out of this mudhole and find his contact, and also by an ever stronger burning curiosity.

“Nevertheless, you have my thanks, and perhaps I could be service to you as well. How about I buy you a drink and we can discuss an arrangement?” Expectedly he watched her, but seconds ticked by, and she didn’t react, just still continuously staring at her hair with a far-off look. Insecurity crept back in. Had he done something wrong? Had he offended her somehow?

Suddenly she blinked up at him again, looking at his still halfway open mouth for second before answering in slurred words.

“Look lad, I’m far too tired for any of this and I heard exactly nothin’ you just said, so I’ll throw myself in there, and if you’re still there tomorrow, we can have a talk.” Not waiting for a response she staggered forward and past him in direction of the inn, all the odd grace from the battle lost. With her wobbling steps Aloth was surprised she was walking at all.

When her shoulder hit the inn’s doorframe and she let out an angry shout he winced and hurried forward without much thinking. Attempting to avoid the filthiest spots of her sleeve he grabbed her elbow and gently pulled further inwards and away from the walls before he could really think about it.

The way to the inn’s counter wasn’t far, and somehow still felt very long. What was he doing? He could have left, he could have let her go herself, he could have just run, but now he was here, dragging her along and standing far too close to this woman he didn’t know and who had very much proven to be dangerous. That was it, he assured himself. He just didn’t want to and up on her bad side. Yes.

The woman behind the counter sent him a both concerned and suspicious look, and really he couldn’t fault her. Even if she hadn’t heard the commotion outside, he was dragging along a filthy and bloody woman by the arm, who was stumbling like she had only drunk liquor the last seven weeks. He sent her a what he hoped was an apologetic look and walked by her as quickly as possible by the ever-heavier weight on his side, and as the woman was sagging further and further into him and he away.

When they finally reached the common room, it felt like an eternity had passed. Still he somehow expected her to jump up and deck him too. She did no such thing however, and now he was standing in front of an empty bunk, without any idea of what to do. Lacking another option aside from throwing her onto the bunk, he gingerly let go, hoping she would just lay down herself. Instead she keeled over as soon as he let go. Too late to still catch her, Aloth could only watch her slam into the hard bunk with a bang and he cringed, expecting a sound of pain.

Once again she surprised him, as she completely ignored her hard contact with the cot if she’d even noticed it, instead giving a hum of relief and relaxing into the uncomfortable surface.

Finally Aloth sighed. What even was this day? What was this week? This year? His whole life really. Gingerly he massaged his hurting temple, knowing full well it wouldn’t help. He’d just wanted to leave.

Alas, now he might as well stay another night and satisfy his curiosity. A heavy feeling of something settling into his stomach he found another empty bench to sleep, questioning until deep into the night if he’d made the right choice.

[shemetan]

rapper hc part 1

hi guys!!! so i’ve had this idea in my head forever and just didn’t have anyone to share it with but i told hedy about it yesterday and she scammed me into creating tumblr acc and sharing it here lol but when i went to write it down i  realized that i have a lot more to share so it’s gonna be just the 1st part for now, which was the only thing i had in my mind originally but now i’m working on expanding it.

i have a lot of ideas from the songs and this is no exception. this time the inspiration was NF - an amazing rapper and song writer. his songs uncover so much trauma and the things he raps and sings about are so real for a lot of us that you can’t help relating to them. NF’s real name is Nathan which also played part in this idea. lyrics of the songs are what the hc is based on so please listen to the songs i mention and pay attention to the lyrics.

ok i don’t wanna waste more of your time bc the hc is big as it is so without further ado let’s dive into it. p.s. it’s the first time i do a thing like that so im sorry in advance for any inconsistencies or the general drama:)))

TW!! (everything is just mentioned, nothing too graphic) physical abuse, verbal/emotional abuse, alcohol, drinking, drug addiction, overdose, death from overdose, kidnapping, torture (beating, skin burning, cuts – all of it not descriptive), violence, breaking one’s own bones, putting bastards to prison. also NF’s lyrics got a lot of triggers and cover very serious issues so if you decide to listen to some more of his music be careful with that. some of the things mentioned in the songs i’ve used here: depression, grave digging, guns, blood (in a non-violent way).

neil’s story: he grew up in an abusive family. his father was drinking a lot and abused him physically and verbally saying that he was nothing and nobody and would not amount to anything in his life. he despised neil’s love for music and laughed at him. he also hit him more when he noticed anything related to neil’s passion (neil humming some melody or listening to music in his headphones or trying to create smth). his mother tried to protect him but she couldn’t do much bc of her drug addiction. she overdosed during his last year in hs and surprisingly left him some money. when Nathan found out about that he was enraged and beat the shit out of neil so he would give him that money. to run away from his father neil goes to university to study his passion – music. he’s always had some kind of knack for creating music and rapping and now he could explore it more and not be afraid of nathan. he tries to overcome his trauma and even makes some friends (the foxes).

during the freshman year andrew and neil spend a lot of time together. they find the reflections of their hurt in each other and they find understanding. they share some of their past and their traumas; their view of the world and their dreams. andrew feels like he is falling because he’s never met anyone like neil. slowly there are soft touches and furtive glances but neither is ready yet to cross that line.

neil seemingly gets better even though there are a lot of hard moments on the way. however at the end of his freshman year nathan finds him and he and his cronies kidnap and beat neil up for Mary’s money keeping him in the basement for several days. this money is all neil’s got to survive and build his life so he doesn’t say anything and thinks of the ways to run. im not good with making up torture techniques and nathan is not so imaginative here but they still leave neil with scars on his face, his torso and hands (mostly burns from cigarettes, iron, cuts from glass bottles). by the end of the third day neil is physically and morally exhausted so he gives up and transfers all the money to them (he’s got a little of it left on his other acc) and they drunk on their win leave him in the basement. he breaks his fingers to get out of the handcuffs and gets out through the small basement window and runs outside. not long after that he collapses from all the exhaustion and blood loss and someone notices him. they call the cops and the ambulance. after that nathan and his cronies are put into prison and neil is left with almost no money. he leaves the state and a year later with a lot of effort, practicing and self-advertising he successfully signs with a music label under the name N/A.

andrew’s story: tilda didn’t give him up but was a shitty mother (obv) with drug addiction. andrew and aaron’s parents were divorced and their father didn’t live with them but tried to be there when he could. andrew started creating music as an outlet bc tilda’s boyfriends were physically abusing him and he tried to protect aaron from that. he and aaron were close bc they only had each other but andrew still didn’t share his trauma with aaron trying to protect him from that hell. of course he was only a child and couldn’t always take aaron’s place in beating but most of it lay on him. while at hs they became a band with the help of nicky and performed with their songs were they could and tried to self-advertise and wymack (he’s the head of the music dep at uni and also one of the profs) noticed them and offered them partial scholarships. they had some money left after tilda’s overdose (they lived for some time with their father after her death) so they went to get actual education on music production (at this point I don’t care how plausible it sounds, just don’t think too much about it ok lol)

the story:

ok so nathaniel once went to uni with the foxes (is there such a major as music production and singing or smth?) but at the end of his freshman year he disappeared. he was not very sociable so no one really cared where’d he go except for the foxes with whom he became somewhat friends. 1-2 years later he pops up as a new young and very talented rapper named N/A and he’s got burn scars all over his face and hands which he doesn’t hide so very intriguing right??? nobody knows much about him and that his name stands for Neil Abram so they take it literally as ‘no data available’ or smth (hedy also proposed “not applicable”!). foxes are like WTF we know that guy!! and wymack is also like isn’t that nathaniel??

Andrew’s become a huge fan of neil’s music. only renee knows that andrew’s been listening to neil’s songs non stop bc he can relate so hard to them and they just hit him right where it hurts. at the end of their last year they have like a huge final concert or smth and wymack organizes it to be held in one of the palmetto clubs. at the same time neil is coming back to Palmetto bc he is nostalgic of the time he spent in the uni with the foxes and he wants to escape his real life for a moment. he wants to visit the city and reminisce and he believes that none of the foxes really remembers him bc he was a nobody. I know the plot is getting ridiculous but bear with me

so it’s the evening of the gig and the students perform their music (songs, instrumentals, as solos/duets/bands etc). andrew majorly produces rap songs at this point and he performs in duet with renee with their song (NF’s “Can you hold me”). everyone is like shit it was so good but then andrew performs his solo song (NF’s “How could you leave us”). aaron is standing there and is a fucking mess bc he never knew andrew was that affected by their past and their mother’s death bc he never showed it and didn’t ever want to talk about his issues. (be warned this is a heart-wrenching song and it fits fucking perfectly). after that andrew almost runs outside for a smoke, trying to light a cigarette with his shaking fingers and thats when he sees a strange all covered up figure in a black hoodie entering the club but also cautiously looking over their shoulder like they don’t want to be caught. andrew ever the protective one follows him but loses in the crowd of the low lit club. 10 mins later there is quiet and the figure goes on stage – obv its neil. “Intro III” starts playing.

andrew is in awe and he’s never heard this song before so it must be new. he also never saw neil perform live so he cant really move bc the performance is so powerful and magnetic. *neils sitting on one of the disconnected amplifiers in the dark and the music starts building up. At 2:00 of the song after the words “I mean, what are you, outta your mind? 'Cause both of us will be, come on, let's go outside!” he pulls off his hood, his movements are fierce and aggressive and he’s almost screaming in the mic. at words “You had me scared for a second, I thought we were diggin' my grave” theres his fathers smile, vicious, crazy and cruel – thats how he remembered it spending 3 days in that basement. (fyi in the song NF’s talking to his fear and they go back and forth).* 

andrew is mesmerized, the foxes are in shock, the whole crowd does not understand who that is but they watch with open mouths. the song ends and the crowd goes wild. that’s when neil starts talking.

“hello palmetto. this is a great concert you got and some of you guys are fucking talented. my name is neil and I used to go to PSU a long time ago so you prolly don’t know me but professor wymack out there let me come here on this stage and sing a couple of my songs for you. one of them is my old song, and another is new but they both tell my story and I hope you like’em”. 

people cheer and applaud and after a moment another song starts playing. its the one andrew knows (it’s Paralyzed). the atmosphere gets way calmer but everyone is just as hypnotized. during the chorus neil is standing under the dim lights, head turned up facing the ceiling, eyes closed, his scars are illuminated. he looks almost peaceful but there’s pain and apathy showing on his face and in his posture. the song ends and neil leaves the stage. andrew cant make his legs move but he has to meet neil (he just realized that neil’s shared his name with them and it wasn’t “nathaniel” and andrew’s got so many questions).

he forces himself to move and almost runs backstage. neil is already leaving but andrew stops him by grabbing him by his arm. they stand there looking at each other, andrew panting, his body shaking a little, neil wide-eyed.

“Andrew…” he whispers obviously surprised by seeing Andrew here.

“Nath- Neil.” suddenly Andrew cant ask a single question. he’s got so many that it feels like a waste of time to ask them one by one. Neil looks down at where Andrew is still grabbing his arm and Andrew lets go off him like its burnt him. “You are here” he lets out on the exhale like he still can’t believe it.

Neil averts his eyes and puts the hood of his sweater on his head so that the shadows obscure half of his face. “Yeah” he replies and after a few seconds follows with hesitant “How are you?” It is a stupid question, Andrew thinks but he answers nonetheless with simple fine. Neil holds his head low, and Andrew can’t help but wonder if Neil doesn’t wanna look him in the eyes after his disappearance so many years ago or if he simply doesn’t want to see Andrew’s face. Both options hurt him but he doesn’t have the heart to ask.

the end of part 1. come yell at me on twt or here hihi