#the reflection is named nathaniel

[nothatsmi]

On my computer I titled this Neil's sanity.

Don't you hate it when your reflection tries to murder you.

Anyway here's an animation I spent the day doing, it's Millport Neil and his Guilt :)

Also thank you so much for all the replies for the animatic! It means so much!! Tbh I would draw and animate more but each time I do so I gotta catch on the school work and I'm getting behind already.. But yeah today I was like meh what's work anyway.

[foolish-fran]

Dahlia Hawthorne's name was based on the short story "Rappaccini's Daughter" by Nathaniel Hawthorne, about a young woman who was poisoned by her own family and became poisonous herself as a result. I finally got my hands on the book, so I wanted to read it through the lens of "what does this story say about Dahlia?"

Thoughts:

- Beatrice Rappaccini is a beautiful young woman, the daughter of an affluent scientist and the member of a noble family that has fallen into ruin. She has spent her entire life in an idyllic garden of flowers, which was once prosperous and thriving, but has fallen into decay and disrepair as the years have passed. This reflects how Kurain Village was once prosperous, but the village and Fey Family's reputation has crumbled since DL-6.

-It's clear from her dialogue that Beatrice knows nothing of life outside the garden. She is incredibly sheltered, having never left the garden before and knowing nothing of worldly things outside of her small bubble. Similarly, most spirit mediums in Kurain (Pearl and Iris in particular) have never left Kurain Village, growing up sheltered.

-Beatrice is beautiful, delicate, and virtuous, but anything she touches, whether plant, animal, or human, will decay and die by poison. She doesn't *want* to be this way, but her nature cannot be changed. Even when she attempts to take an antidote to her poisonous breath, it fails.

-The author goes out of his way to depict Beatrice not as a monster but as a product of her environment. Beatrice does not *want* to be dangerous, but she was *made* this way by her father, who kept her confined to his garden and used her as a pawn for his own schemes. Her father Giacomo Rappaccini raised her not as a daughter but as a tool, a pawn, a weapon for his own plans and experiments, and turned her into who she is today. Cough cough Morgan Fey

-There is a beautiful purple flower in the garden that Beatrice considers her "sister”. The two have an almost symbiotic relationship, with the protagonist noting that Beatrice and her “sister” seem as if they could be two sides of the same coin. Sounds like Irissss

-The protagonist of the story, Giovanni Guasconti, is a young man who falls in love with Beatrice despite her lethal nature. Through it all, he is desperate to believe in her, hoping against hope that the relationship can work out and that Beatrice is truly good despite the deaths he’s seen her cause. Hmm, a man who wants desperately to believe in people even at the cost of his own life….Feenie?

-Giovanni’s mentor, Baglioni, holds a longstanding grudge against the senior Rappaccini, and Beatrice by extension. He fears for Giovanni’s safety if he keeps seeing Beatrice, but his main priority is seeing Rappaccini fall for the sake of his own revenge. He's a good person, an intellectual with years of experience in the field of science. But his anger consumes him and leads him to harm both Beatrice and Giovanni, seeing them as tools in his plan rather than anything else. Godot?

-When Beatrice asks her father why he made her poisonous, he responds that the poison can function as a defense mechanism. If Beatrice is poisonous, than nobody can hurt her. It's better to be dangerous yourself than to be vulnerable to danger. It’s just like Dahlia!

-This whole exchange:

“”Wherefore didst thou inflict this miserable doom upon thy child?”

“Miserable! What mean you, foolish girl? Dost though deem it misery to be endowed with marvelous gifts, against which no power nor strength could avail an enemy?” Reminds me of how Morgan and the Feys saw spirit channeling as a gift, but Dahlia and Iris seem to see it as a curse

[logicallabyrinth]

Platonic yan? Either with the mafia, professor or doctor

I'm just gonna do all 😇 (kill 3 birds with one stone). I'm assuming your asking for headcanons??

Platonic yan! Mafia (Sebastian Silver)

As the head of a powerful mafia organization, Sebastian takes "protective" to a whole new level. No one dares to even glance you, not even by accident, because the consequences are always swift and brutal.

He insists on keeping tabs on your whereabouts at all times. Sometimes through his men or subtle surveillance, you're never truly alone.

His version of affection involves expensive gifts. Sometimes it's not even practical. It’s not unusual for a brand-new car, an entire wardrobe, or even a small business in your name to appear out of nowhere.

If you ever try to assert your independence, he’s quick to remind you of the “dangers” outside. “The world isn’t kind. Let me take care of things.”

Any sign of disloyalty, even unintentional, is met with a hurt expression and an intense lecture about how much he’s done for you. He doesn’t get angry. Just disappointed... and that guilt works like a charm.

He’s not above eliminating people from your life if he feels they’re “bad influences.” Like friends who overstep your boundaries or question his relationship with you tend to disappear without explanation.

Platonic yan! Professor (Prof. Victor Grayson)

Dr. Grayson amazing academically, but his attachment to you is far from normal. He’s obsessed with your potential and will go to any lengths to ensure you succeed, on his terms of course.

He insists on tutoring you personally, claiming no one else understands your learning style like he does. These sessions often go far beyond academics, with him subtly prying into your personal life. These questions might seen innocent at first, but overtime they get worse.

Your success is his success. Every achievement of yours is celebrated with an intensity that feels suffocating, as though your life is a reflection of his own worth.

He’s manipulative, using guilt or intellectual arguments to keep you dependent on him. “You’re capable of so much, but you’ll squander it without proper guidance. Trust me, I know what’s best.”

Any sign of rebellion is met with quiet but firm discipline. He’ll lower your grades, “misplace” important papers, or subtly sabotage your reputation just to steer you back into his control.

He has a way of making you feel like his guidance is a privilege, something you should be grateful for. “Most students would kill for my attention. You’re lucky I see something special in you.”

Platonic yan! Doctor (Dr Nathaniel Callas)

Dr. Callas is outwardly charming and caring, but his obsession with your well-being, actually you in general, is far from healthy. Every minor symptom you mention is going to throw him into a spiral.

He keeps detailed records of your health, far more thorough than needed, and refuses to let any other doctor near you. “No one knows your case like I do. Trust me, they’ll only mess things up.”

He insists on controlling every aspect of your health. From your diet, exercise, sleep schedule, and even your social habits. He frames it all as concern for your “long-term well-being.”

If you resist him, he uses his medical expertise as leverage, subtly threatening you with dire consequences. “Ignoring this could have catastrophic results. Do you really want to risk it?”

His office becomes a second home for you, whether you want it to or not. He always has an excuse to keep you there. “just a quick check-up” or “a follow-up to monitor your progress.”

You’re never sure how much of his care is genuine and how much is an excuse to keep you close. Either way, you know better than to challenge him. His calm, professional demeanor hides a dangerous determination.

Any sign of you prioritizing someone else’s advice over his sends him into a quiet spiral. He won’t lash out, but his disappointment is palpable, and he might even “find” something concerning in your test results to reel you back in.

[aftgficrec]

Anonymous asked: Hiiii is there any andreil fics with a medieval or post apocalyptic setting? thank you in advance

We are pretty loose with what constitutes medieval and tend to include fics with swords and steeds unless the author specifies a different time period. For more stories and pairings try these ao3 aftg tag searches: royalty here, kings and kingdoms here, fairy tales here, medieval here, and fantasy here. 

Andreil apocalypse aus will follow in another post. -A

previous recs:

‘An Assassin's Guide to Romance’ here 

‘eclipse’ here

‘The boy is a pipe dream’ here

‘Vanilla Twilight’ here

‘All the King's Men’ here

‘On the Edge of a Knife’ here

‘One page prompts’ ch 6, ‘Admirers And Visitors,’ ‘Knights of the Fox Table,’ ‘Silver, Secrets and Steel’ series, and ‘this isn't home (but it's close enough)’ in our foxes with swords! ask

you may also like:

‘That One Time Neil Ended Up In a Fairy Tale’ series here (updated)

‘Winter Woes’ series here

‘If I Don't Keep Up My Light’ here

our tags for medieval, royalty, historical, dragons, fantasy, and fairy tales

A Cruel Twist of Fate by nvrhrdofhm [Rated M, 10941 Words, Complete, AFTG Reverse Big Bang 2024]

Twenty years ago, Aaron’s mother had become pregnant, the father was unknown, even to herself. Fearing for what the birth would mean for her future, she sought counsel from a soothsayer. She stole away in the middle of the night and received the curse; “Started as one but separated soon. A reflection of the other, always to be doomed. Stolen too early, returned far too late. The two’s lives will be a cruel twist of fate.” A fantasy AU focused on the Minyard twins. It's a short but fun time. Yes, I know that sounds like an innuendo, let's just ignore that.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

NB: fic art by @flightyfoxart here

Reign & Fall by maydaykevin [Rated M, 32847 Words, Complete, 2017]

“It is quite simple what I am asking of you, Neil.” Stuart’s voice, however pleasant, was laced with an underlying venom. “Retrieve what they have wrongfully taken.” Neil is given a quest. Chaos ensues.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: canonical character death, tw: blood/gore, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: choking, tw: noncon kiss

NB: the major character death tag refers to a series villain

Land of Reverence series by shadowdreams [Rated G/T, Collection, 2 complete works, Updated 2022]

Part 1: Would You Rescue Me [G, 37691 Words] Previously recced here His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Nathaniel of Baltimore has been tasked with rescuing the shy Princess of Palmetto from a dragon as part of a marriage ritual as old as time. The only problem? That’s definitely not a princess waiting for him in a dingy cave in the mountainside.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Part 2: I'll be there anytime you call [T, 31264 Words] Previously recced here “You have to go back to Baltimore.” Andrew looked up at his brother, halting his move to reach for one of the water pitchers. Watching Aaron nervously shift in place, Andrew took in the uncomfortable silence settling over the large room they all had gathered in. This couldn’t be good.  Or, what happens after Andrew and Neil finally make it to Palmetto after the Royal Liberation.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced abuse

All for the Royal Court by AL_fiction [Rated T, 75902 Words, Complete, 2023]

Previously recced here 

“Abram has recently fled to Palmetto, the capital city of the vast country of Foxcourt after the loss of his mother in Troy. Earning himself the title Library Thief and a wanted poster with his name on it in his first few days, Abram survives by pickpocketing and hiding, skills he's gotten good at on the run. This all changes when he gets himself hired by Day, Head Assistant to King Wymack himself

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: graphic injuries, tw: blood/gore, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: canonical character death

Queens by Fire_Bear [Rated M, 10110 Words, Incomplete, Updated 2020]

The courts of the kingdoms hold great power, from the rooks to the bishops, the knights to the kings. But none are as powerful as the queens. Anyone with the magical power levels of a queen is highly sought after in the courts. They are coveted, revered, feared, hated, loved - and trapped. There was once a kingdom that held four queens, some hidden, others known.

tw: implied/referenced abuse

Of Dark Wizards & Knights by justdk [Rated T, 3400 Words, Complete, Andreil Week 2019]

Previously recced here

Neil just wants to live in his cave and do magic and raise his cute little fox kits but nooooo. In which Neil meets the legendary Sam of Wilds, Tiggy, and Gary... and a short knight with blonde hair and great arms

tw: scars

Of Solstice Sweets & Kisses justdk [Rated T, 1940 Words, Complete, 2020]

A companion piece to Of Dark Wizards & Knights, above

When Andrew had asked for leave to visit Neil, he had not expected them to spend the entire day roaming the Dark Woods collecting branches, greenery, holly, nuts, and rocks. He had assumed they would spend the day and night tucked away in Neil’s cave, eating, cuddling in the surprisingly comfortable nest of furs, and playing with Sir and King, Neil’s domesticated foxes. Neil had assured him that all of that was still on the menu but that first he needed to prepare for his annual Solstice rituals. [or magical Midwinter fluff]

pre relationship andreil

Doubt Truth To Be a Liar by sunrise_and_death [Rated T, 793 Words, Complete, Andreil Week 2018, Locked]

It was the ghost that tipped Neil off. Or, a snapshot of All for the Game meets Hamlet.

tw: implied/referenced murder

becomings by jemwrites [Rated M, 3310 Words, Complete, 2020]

A Witcher, a Mage, a Fox Cub, a Warmonger: four individuals in a horrifying world, and how they came to be. (In other words: how Andrew became a monster, how neil became a sorcerer, how Kevin became a legacy and how Riko's bloodthirst will lead to chasing all three) No knowledge of The Witcher (tv show, game or book) required.

tw: violence, tw: blood, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: child abandonment, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced torture

Art

Aftg, Empire and palace dramas AU art by @anthemisarts: headcanons and character sketches | Lady Renee and Lady Allison | Kevin, the young emperor | Neil, a fugitive prince | Andrew and Neil first meeting preview | Andrew, knight of the fox kingdom detains a suspicious Neil

AFTG Royalty/Medieval AU art by @nicknizzard: Andrew swearing his oath to Neil | Aftg medieval AU part 2 | KevAaron in the medieval AU | more Medieval Andreil

[whencyclopedia]

Phillis Wheatley

Phillis Wheatley (l. c. 1753-1784) was the first African American woman to publish a book of poetry and become recognized as a poet, overcoming the prevailing understanding of the time that a Black person was incapable of writing, much less writing poetry and, further, that an enslaved person, considered property, could do so.

She was not, as commonly claimed, the first African American author to publish poetry, as that distinction goes to Jupiter Hammon (l. 1711-1806), who published his An Evening Thought: Salvation by Christ, with Penitential Cries in 1761. Wheatley, however, holds the honor of being the first African American author to publish a full-length book of poetry, her Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral, in 1773.

Her book was widely praised both in England (where it was published) and in Britain's North American colonies. She received a personal response from General George Washington (l. 1732-1799) thanking her for a poem she had written in his honor in 1775, which was later published by Thomas Paine (l. 1737-1809) in the Pennsylvania Gazette.

Not everyone was a fan of Wheatley's works, however, and some, most notably Thomas Jefferson (l. 1743-1826), dismissed her as simply a mimic who was only capable of reflecting concepts she had absorbed from White classical writers. The backward views of Jefferson, and those like him, did nothing to diminish popular appreciation for Wheatley's work, however, and she remained highly regarded, even after falling on hard times, until her death at the age of 31.

Today, Phillis Wheatley is regarded as one of the greatest American poets and continues to be honored as such through place names, memorials, plaques, and educational institutions.

Life & Work

Wheatley's brief biography, as given by L. Maria Child and included in Homespun Heroines and Other Women of Distinction (1926), compiled and edited by Hallie Q. Brown, is given below, although some details are omitted, which will be addressed here.

Phillis Wheatley's actual name is unknown. She is thought to have been born c. 1753 in modern-day Gambia or Senegal and was one of the over three million people of those regions sold into slavery. She arrived in Boston, Massachusetts, aboard the slave ship Phillis in July 1761 and was purchased by John Wheatley, a wealthy merchant, and his wife Susanna. The Wheatleys named her after the ship that had brought her to them.

The Wheatleys had two children, twins, Mary and Nathaniel, who were then 18 years old. Mary taught young Phillis English and how to read and write, while Nathaniel assisted as his duties would allow. Phillis was a fast learner, and by the age of 12, was proficient in Greek, Latin, and the Bible. She wrote her first poem when she was 14, and, that same year, published another poem, on the near wreck of a merchant ship caught in a storm, in The Newport Mercury on 21 December 1767.

Although a slave, Phillis was treated like a member of the family and given light domestic work. The Wheatleys were progressive members of Boston society and, recognizing the girl's innate intelligence and quick wit, encouraged her education. She would frequently be invited to dinner parties given at the home to read her latest works, which were met with praise and gave her the confidence to write more.

By 1773, Phillis had a book-length manuscript of verse, and Susanna sent her to London, accompanied by Nathaniel, who was traveling there on family business, because she felt there were better chances of finding a publisher there than in the Colony of Massachusetts. Phillis had also been told by the family's doctor that she should avail herself of a sea voyage for her health as she suffered from asthma and a frail constitution.

Through Nathaniel's connections, Phillis was introduced to the members of high society in London, including the Lord Mayor, Frederick Bull. News of the young African poet circulated quickly, and Selina Hastings, Countess of Huntingdon, agreed to be her patron without ever having even met her. Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral was published 1 September 1773.

An audience was arranged with King George III of Great Britain (r. 1760-1820), but news arrived that Susanna Wheatley was seriously ill, and Phillis and Nathaniel left for Boston before she could be presented to the king. Upon her arrival home, the Wheatleys set her free, and she cared for Susanna during her illness until her death in the spring of 1774. John died in 1778, and Mary soon after. Nathaniel moved to London to manage the business there, and Phillis was left alone in Boston.

She found work as a domestic before meeting the free Black grocer, John Peters, whom she married. The couple lived in poverty, and their two children died in infancy. Peters' business failed, and when he could not pay his debts, he was sent to prison in 1784.

Phillis was left alone again, this time with a third infant child, and found work as a scullery maid. Never very robust, Wheatley developed pneumonia and died on 5 December 1784, along with her infant daughter.

Read More

⇒ Phillis Wheatley

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

IF your requests are open and IF u feel well enough to write…

I’d love to req ithaqua … normal/morningstar/philosopher’s stone is up to u but I wanna read some nasty dark content where he’s so possessive of reader .. inspired by the scene in the essence trailer where his brother was in chains .. I’m imagining reader tho <3 or maybe some noncon gangbang w ithaqua and nathaniel … pregnancy if ur comfy..

however if u don’t feel well enough to write just delete this request! thank you so much ❤️

Once again i put too much time and thought into lore for smut... I will never learn fvbhfvhvf I went with philosopher’s stone but no preg I don't write tht

Rated: Explicit | Warning: This is based on the actual lore of the Philosopher's Stone and used the terms used to make it, dubcon/noncon, oral (male receiving), female!reader, the reader is not truly aware of actions (kinda doll-like?)

The Azoth Library is quiet, it has been like this since the death of the last Director. You wish there the sound of scholars, students with their mentors, and those curious about the word wondering the library; seeking answers within the plethora of tomes and whispered discussions. But, this is for the best… The world is not prepared for the Rebis, a word your mind both understands but does not as well, a paradox of emotions it brings that you cannot find the words for.

Does he feel the same way?

He, the first creation in the image of your creator, looks at you with what humans call love like in the books you read when learning what is like to be human. He is knowledgeable as the oldest and the first. “My most cherished other half,” Holding your face, “Finally mine alone.” His eyes no longer match the ones of the creation

The red stone, the first of Director Waning Crescent's creations, names himself Helios; he is your Red King Sol, and you, his White Queen Luna.

The Magnum Opus is what they call the recreation of this alchemical seemingly in possible creation. The Magnum Opus symbol is the squared circle. Many of these symbols are in the notes of the creation, along with other words: nigredo, albedo, citrinitas, rubedo. You wish you understood what these words mean, but you do not understand why.

The creator's wish, Director Waning Crescent, is to create the ultimate fusion of alchemy, to transcend the mind and body of man, to become one flawless immortal being. It requires two parts of the Philosopher's Stone, Sol and Luna, and once merged as one creating the Philosophiae Hermeticae.

Of course, Helios does not want to complete his creator's experiment.

How could the Director Waning Crescent who created you in the image of a lover, a lover he put his work before her, want to see you disappear and become something else? These questions the other half would ask himself, human emotions and ambition make no sense when they conflict.

“We can spend all of eternity in peace.” 

You gaze at him as you lack his experience in human wants and desires, but you know the difference between right and wrong. His actions are wrong, love should not be an excuse to kill the last three Directors, nor drive out those who seek knowledge. “Eternity should be used to reflect upon your actions, my Sol.” The chains rattle as you try to move your bound arms hanging above your head, “You must report yourself to the一”

“Must you ruin our moment of peace with trivial human morals?!” Upset as he shoves your face away and moves up from his bent-over position, “The one you call creator would have killed us for his selfish goals! The others to the moment they laid eyes upon us.”

“You assumed they were like our creator.”

The laugh bitter and in disbelief echoes in the stone chambers of the room he put you in. “I forget how inexperienced you are, my Luna.” Kneeling with a lopsided smile on his face, “He wanted you to be pure and perfect, virgin in every way.” Crystalized sharp fingers caress the side of your face, “Perfect for the Rebis…” His eyes lowering as he studies how the white crystals decorate your nude body. “Submissive, pure, and obedient; a perfect woman.”

You do not understand. Nor do you understand why Sol’s lips are on your lips, or why he grabs your throat to keep you from moving away. You jerk when a hand is on your breast, touching it strangely, “What are trying to do, my Sol?” A question you do not get answers for when he takes advantage of you talking to push his tongue into your mouth. You do not respond but you notice your body, the flesh parts, are reacting. The crystal parts of you and him are glowing, this has happened before when the first Director had tested the bond between the two pieces of the Philosopher’s Stone. Your eyes are open as his eyes are closed, you look around and then back at his face when he pulls back panting. Neither of you is human so why is he mimicking breathing? You tilt your head to the side curiously watching him start to remove his jacket as he stands up, “Sol?”

“It is Helios.” Stern, “You are my Artemis.” Declaring as he undoes the button of his pants, “That is your name now, a proper name.”

“... Thank you.” Be polite like you were taught when someone gives you something, “Does it bring you comfort to have a name?”

Helios rolls his eyes as he knows the creator has limited you for his reasons to take advantage of you, “Open your mouth.” Pulling out his cock, this you know about as you did study human anatomy. It is this sexual organ the Director had you touch one night when alone with him.

You open your mouth and the flesh mixed with bits of crystal is pushed into your mouth, not all of it but enough to have you try to pull back from the stretch of your lips around it.

“Shh, relax,” Petting your hair with one hand and the other rubbing your cheek, “This is going to be our way of Rebis.”

Rebis, to become one, to become each other, to transcend. You look at him with worry then close your eyes as his hips start to move, slowly at first. It tastes weird and feels weird, the way Sol一 Helios’ breathing picks up, the growling from his chest, he tells you to use your tongue as his hips move faster. You open your eyes when he reaches his orgasm and shoves himself deep into your mouth to touch the back of your throat, the weird white substance that the Director had spilled onto your hand is now in your mouth. You choke a bit as he keeps thrusting into your mouth before pulling out, huffing when you spit out the white substance and make a face of his displeasure.

“We will work on that.” Wiping the corner of your mouth when you look back up at him, “An eternity of peace.”

You still believe he should report himself to the library warden.

[gigabyte-flare]

He Comes Alive (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: More hikers are going missing and now one of them has been found dead, seeming having been attacked by a strange animal. Meanwhile, Leon stops by your work, giving you an offer you can't refuse.

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

You awake the next morning at around 7:00am, stretching your arms and yawning loudly before rubbing your eyes, the events of the previous night gone from your mind as you climb out of bed. You throw on your pajama pants before going downstairs, where you find both your parents now huddled in front of the TV.

“What’s going on?” you ask, standing in the threshold of the living room before stepping in to join your parents.

What you see, shocks you. It’s a breaking news report. Fish and Game had found one of the hikers, Alicia Walker, dead off of one of the Mt. Lafayette trails.

“They’re calling it an animal attack,” your father suddenly breaks the silence, “there were signs she had been attacked by some kind of animal like a bear or… a coydog. But… I’ve never heard of bears or coydogs attacking people around here.”

Your focus returns to the TV, where you watch the reporter at the Mt. Lafayette trailhead.

“Fish and Game is asking hikers to never hike alone, let friends and family know if they plan on hiking and where, as well as bring adequate protection to defend themselves against wildlife until they can find and euthanize the animal responsible for this attack. Fish and Game believes this same animal is responsible for the other missing hikers, the latest being 21 year old Nathaniel Dion of Oakvale who was last seen Monday--”

Your eyes widen at the name; you went to school with this guy. He wasn’t anyone you knew personally, but he was one of the more popular guys in your high school class. You recall he was a huge fitness junky. He was also Chief Bob’s only son; you could only begin to imagine how much this probably distressed him and his family. 

“Poor Bob and Nancy…” you hear your mother say before she abruptly walks into the kitchen, “I’m going to call them up and see if there’s anything we can do to help them, Mick.”

“Yeah, it’s the least we can do, maybe we should have them over for lunch. I’m sure they could use the company,” your father suggests before turning off the TV and joining your mother in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, you remain in the living room, staring at your reflection in the TV screen before you turn, going back upstairs to your bedroom to get dressed.

Later that day, Chief Bob and his wife Nancy do end up coming over for lunch. Your mother had made up sandwiches and fresh ice tea for everyone. Sitting at the dining table with them was unfortunately awkward, Chief Bob and Nancy were clearly distraught, understandably so. 

“He said he was doing the Lafayette, Lincoln and Liberty loop, which normally only takes him a day or two. When he didn’t come back Wednesday…” Nancy begins, wiping tears from her eyes.

“That’s when I reached out to Fish and Game to report him missing, they immediately organized a search party. That’s when they stumbled upon that other hiker, Alicia. They found her when they were looking for Nate.” Bob finished, clearing his throat as he attempted to regain his composure. 

“Is it true what they’re saying? That an animal is attacking hikers?” you interject before biting into your sandwich.

“That’s the weird part. I asked for a copy of her autopsy report. The poor girl’s throat was practically ripped out, her blood drained out of her body almost completely--”

“Bob, honey, we’re eating.” Nancy scolded.

Bob continues, paying Nancy no mind, “when I talked to the coroner that did her autopsy, he said the bite wound was unlike anything he’s ever seen. I don’t know of a single animal up here that would do that and… drain the blood out like that.”

“I can see why they’re keeping that hush-hush. We don’t need any crazy rumors that we’ve got vampires or some bull crap like that,” Mick replies with his mouth full of sandwich.

“Fish and Game is still looking for Nate, I’m praying to God he just got off trail and got himself lost. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to him,” Nancy says with a sigh, resting her hands in her lap as she stares down at her untouched sandwich. 

Your mother reaches over, putting her hand over Nancy’s, giving them a pat, “I have faith that he’s out there. Mick and I and our daughter are here for both of you if there’s anything we can do to help.”

Nancy suddenly bursts into tears, sobbing at the dining room table loudly.

Your mother looks at you, “sweetheart, can you grab the box of tissues that is sitting on my nightstand for Nancy?”

You give your mother a quick nod as you stand up from the dining room table to head upstairs to the master bedroom. So many thoughts were racing through your head, mostly about how the hiker had died. Chief Bob was right; yeah there were bears and coydogs, but nothing would or could suck a person’s blood dry like that. Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you find the box of tissues on your mother’s nightstand, right where she said it was and brought it downstairs.

You sit back down at the table but you can’t help but zone out, thinking about Nate, lost in the forest.

That evening, you get yourself ready to go to work, heading into the garage of your family’s home to get into your bright yellow 1977 Chevrolet Chevette. It was kind of a beater, but it was reliable. Your dad had made sure it was running well prior to you flying back home. You turn the key, the engine roaring to life; you turn around in your seat and slowly back out of the garage to go to work.

You hear Whitney Houston’s ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’ come on the radio, you turn up the volume and sing along. After a few minutes, you arrive at the gas station, parking your car on the side of the building before heading inside.

“Hey Peggy!” you call out as you walk in, walking into the back office to drop off your purse and car keys before heading up to the register.

“Hey sweetie!” Peggy replies when you come back out to relieve her from her shift, “how was your day?”

“It was ok, we had lunch with Chief Bob and his wife. I’m sure you heard his son Nate’s missing in the mountains.”

Peggy shakes her head, “I did hear about that, poor kid. I really hope they find him safe and sound. They found one of the other hikers dead, right?”

“Yeah, supposedly attacked by some kind of animal.”

“God help us…” Peggy says under her breath as she walks out from behind the register to let you in.

“Have a good night Peggy!” you say to her, seeing her off as you take up your post.

A couple hours go by, you watch as the sun sets behind the mountains. It was a slow night, so you took that opportunity to mop the floors, zoning out the roar of a motorcycle pulling into the gas station. The sound of the door chime snaps you out of your daze. You look up to greet the customer.

“Hey there, how can I help-- oh! Leon!”

Your heart immediately starts racing again upon seeing Leon. He’s wearing a blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows with a black vest on top and tight fitting black pants with black boots. The outfit makes him look otherworldly; simply stunning.

“Hey there, I was hoping you were working tonight,” Leon says, giving you a gentle smile.

“R-Really?” you reply as you haphazardly put your bucket and mop over in a corner, “how… can I be of assistance, Leon?”

“Well, as I’m sure you’ve heard, I bought that old house on the end of Hemlock Drive.”

“Yeah… Mr. Mason’s place, right? Oh… right… you wouldn’t know who that was…” you say, your voice trailing off. 

Leon lets out a playful chuckle before continuing, “well… I’m starting to realize I could use an extra pair of hands to help fix it up.”

“You want me to ask around to see if anyone can help?” you say, crossing your arms, shifting your weight on one foot.

“I was actually hoping I could hire you.”

Your heart jumps into your throat and your mouth hangs slightly agape as you process his words. The door chime going off again snaps you out of your shock.

“Hold that thought,” you gesture your finger at Leon as you walk behind the cash register to help the customer that walked in, a stranger passing through getting gas.

Leon stands behind the customer but off to the side, waiting for them to leave so that you two could continue your conversation. You send the customer off on their way after they pay for gas, drawing your attention back to Leon.

“So… what would I be helping you with? I don’t know much about… building stuff,” you explain, feeling your cheeks turn red.

“Oh no, nothing like that. I’d have you help with painting, cleaning, maybe nailing stuff down. Easy stuff, I promise. And I’d be paying you.”

“How much?”

Leon shrugs his shoulders, “I was thinking… $10 an hour? I’d have you do Monday through Friday from 7:00am to 3:00pm, give or take.”

$10?! you think to yourself. 

That is way over what you’re making here, which is minimum wage, “I’ll do it. I’d have to put my notice in here first.”

Leon smiles, “think you can start next Monday?”

“Absolutely!”

Leon leans forward against the counter, reaching across to give one of your shoulders a pat, “excellent! See you on Monday then.”

Leon gives you a subtle wink, turning to walk out of the gas station. You watch as he gets on his motorcycle, jumping a bit when it roars to life, your eyes remaining locked on him as he drives off. You can’t believe your luck.

Pulling up to his home at the end of Hemlock Drive, Leon parks his motorcycle out front, climbing off it before heading inside. Immediately upon entering the front door, he lets himself finally relax, taking off his vest before he works on unbuttoning his shirt. He walks into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror as he pulls his shirt off, revealing his chiseled chest. 

Before long, dark veins begin to sprawl across his body as he rubs the knots out of the back of his neck with one of his hands, his eyes closed as he lets out a low groan. He slowly opens his eyes, his ocean blue eyes now a brilliant red; they appear to glow in the low light of the bathroom. He snarls his lips at his reflection, revealing his sharp canine teeth that have descended, licking the points with his tongue before he steps back, admiring his physique in the mirror. All the while, something deep and primal within him, at the very core of his being, begins to nag him once more, something that wouldn’t stop since he first laid eyes on the cute girl that works nights at the gas station.

Breed.

In fact, he had gotten himself so worked up that night he met her while filling his motorcycle’s gas tank that he had to go out and hunt. Smirking in the mirror, he turns, walking out of the bathroom, approaching a door in the rear of the house that was padlocked shut. He pulls his keys from his pocket, unlocking the padlock and setting it aside on a small table before opening the door. It leads to the basement, the smell of blood immediately hitting his senses, driving his hunger wild. He descends the stairs slowly, flipping on a light at the bottom that turns on a single set of fluorescent lights.

Under the light, there is a support beam that a young man is tied to, bloody, battered and his neck covered in several bite marks, with duct tape wrapped around his mouth and eyes. The young man immediately hears Leon approach, struggling as much as his weak body can against his restraints. Leon stalks over to the young man, grasping him by his chin and squeezing tightly, smirking down at him. Today he learned this imbecile is the Oakvale’s chief of police’s only son. Just his luck. It was because of this moron hiking alone that Fish and Game had found the remnants of one of his other meals looking for this idiot. He could feel his frustration boiling within him, causing him to suddenly twist the young man’s head, snapping his neck instantly.

“Whoops.”

He didn’t mean to snap the poor kid’s neck, he was hoping to enjoy him for a few more days, now he has to enjoy as much as he can before his blood starts to go stale. Opening his mouth, his fangs and mouth latch onto the dead young man’s neck, growling as he begins to feed upon him. He gets his fill, unlatching himself from the young man’s lifeless form with a gasp, breathing heavily as blood runs from his lips, dripping down his chin onto his bare chest. The young man’s body slumps forward as Leon steps back. He’s going to have to get rid of him before his cute angel starts her new “job” on Monday.

Thinking of her, his eyes flutter shut, his right hand smearing the blood that had dripped down across his chest, bringing his hand to his lips to lick off the blood. Before getting himself too worked up again, he turns around, leaving the basement, shutting off the light as he ascends back up the stairs. He goes back into the bathroom, turning on the shower. As he waits for the water to warm up, he looks at himself again in the mirror. His pupils dilate upon seeing the blood on his skin. Turning away from the mirror, he removes what’s left of his clothing and steps into the shower to clean himself up, watching as blood runs down his naked body, the blood swirling on the shower floor before going down the drain. 

His mind wanders back to his cute angel, to that night he watched her from the window while she played with herself, his own blood rushing straight to his cock. Grasping himself with his right hand, he begins to stroke himself aggressively, chasing his orgasm as he pictured his cute angel lying beneath him, her undoubtedly beautiful cunt squeezing around him. It doesn’t take long for him to climax, ropes of cum shooting out and covering his hand; some of it managed to land on the shower wall. He takes a moment to rinse his hand off as well as wipe the cum off the shower wall before turning the shower off. 

Stepping out of the shower, he grabs a towel off the rack, wrapping it around his waist as he steps out of the bathroom and heads into the master bedroom. He lays down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he continues to think about his cute angel, excited about seeing her on Monday. He thought his plan was ingenious; getting her closer to him under the guise of a job. He knew luring her wouldn’t be difficult, she practically eye fucked him every time they saw each other. Still, he had to offer her pay that he knew she couldn’t refuse. Then, he could take his time courting her and before she even knows it, she’ll be his.

His Mate.

“Absolutely not,” your father says to you sternly the next morning at the table at breakfast.

“What do you mean, absolutely not? I already took the job, Dad, I’m putting in my notice tonight. He’s paying me $10 an hour! I couldn’t say no to that!”

“And have you in that house, alone with some guy we don’t even really know? I don’t think so.”

“Dad come on, he’s really nice…”

“We have plenty of retired guys in town that he could have asked.”

“Mick,” your mother tries to interject.

“For all we know, he could be some psychopath or something--”

“MICK! THAT’S ENOUGH!” your mother finally shouts at him, startling both of you.

You look over at your mother who is glaring at your father; the look on her face could have set him on fire. Your mother was always soft spoken and kind. It took a lot to get her angry, and you’ve never seen her this angry.

“In case you forgot, Mick, she is an adult. Besides, not only is that good money, that would be a good experience for her, too. Yes, we don’t really know Leon, but from the handful of times I’ve spoken to him, he seems fine. He used to work for the government for Christ’s sake. You can’t get more trustworthy than that.”

Your father lets out a loud sigh, his attention back on you, “fine… but at the first sign of trouble, you get the hell out of there, understood?”

“Of course,” you reply with a nod, taking a bite out of your breakfast, “I didn’t know he used to work for the government.”

“Heard it from one of the guys at Moe’s,” your father replies, “he was some kind of special ops agent, or something. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Maybe he can figure out what’s happening to all these hikers,” your mother suddenly says, “they still haven’t found Nate.”

“Poor kid, I hope he’s alright,” your father shakes his head, finishing up his breakfast and getting up from the table, “I’ll be in the garage, I’m going to get that car finished up today even if it kills me.”

You watch your father walk out of the dining room, the unmistakable sound of the door being whipped open and slamming shut following him. You and your mother finish breakfast in silence until your mother finally speaks up.

“He just wants what’s best for you. But, he needs to understand that you are a big girl now,” she lets out a sigh before continuing, “when I was your age, my father wouldn’t let me think or do anything for myself. I’m not letting that happen to you.”

You give your mother a smile, “thanks, Mom.”

Before you know it, Monday rolls around and you’re up bright and early. You were the epitome of a bundle of nerves, getting yourself ready and prettied up to ensure that not only you get there on time, but that you were presentable. 

Might as well give him something nice to look at while working, right?

It’s about a ten minute drive to Mr. Mason’s-- Leon’s house, so you make sure you’re out the door by quarter of eight to give yourself plenty of time to get there. Getting in your Chevette, you back out of the driveway and make your way there. Hemlock Drive is just on the outskirts of town, the entryway actually not too far from the gas station you had been working at. At the very end, you see it, an old ranch style home with a farmer’s porch; you guess it was probably built in the 30s. How many times had you come down here with your school friends and knocked on that front door, only to bolt when Mr. Mason came rushing out, red faced and furious as he chased the kids away. You immediately spot Leon’s motorcycle parked in the front. Over on the side of the house you see another vehicle parked: a black Jeep Wrangler with its unmistakable square headlights.

You park your car, turning off the engine to pull your keys out of the ignition, throwing them into your purse before you climb out of your car. You look down at your watch; it’s five of eight, early like you had intended. You approach the house, climbing the small set of steps, your heart pounding in your chest. You stand in front of the door, raising your trembling hand and give it a few knocks. You can hear movement inside the house and before you have time to collect yourself, Leon opens the door and you almost gasp. He’s shirtless and you can’t help but admire his built form. You force your eyes up to his, his ocean blues looking back at you as he smiles at you. 

“Good morning, sweetheart! Ready to get to work?”

Part 3

[happy-lemon]

I'll be your mirror. Reflect what you are, in case you don't know. ~ The Velvet Underground, 1967

Giselle married Knox Greenburg, and they have two babies, Brenna and Lilah (who is named after Giselle's mom). They live in the Fashion District.

Hobie married Sienna Grove, and they have twin babies, Kennedi and Keenan. It is wild to me that the boy who lived lives in flip flops now lives on a horse ranch in Chestnut Ridge.

Ebony married Nathaniel Kemp, and they have two babies, Channing and Noemi. They live in Tartosa.

Paola moved to Evergreen Harbor, where she shares an apartment with our cousins, Tori Nguyen and Brandie Brown.

And Herman married Kim Goldbloom, the owner of a grocery stand in Henford-on-Bagley. They weren't together very long before she went into an apoplectic rage and died unexpectedly.

[blueiscoool]

The Ancient Roman Statue of Athena Emerges After Nearly 300 Years in Hiding

After spending centuries on a British aristocrat’s estate in North Yorkshire, the marble masterpiece will be unveiled in Chicago’s Wrightwood 659 gallery later this weeks,

With an owl in the palm of her hand, a cloak adorned with a gorgon’s head and a warrior’s helmet upon her swept hair, Athena, as depicted in a Roman statue from the first century C.E., is a remarkable sight.

Now, for the first time in nearly 260 years, it will also be a widely accessible one.

This stunning marble depiction of the ancient Greek goddess of wisdom and warfare will go on public display in the atrium of the Wrightwood 659 gallery in Chicago’s Lincoln Park neighborhood starting on January 25.

William Weddell, the British artistocrat who purchased the statue of Athena on a Grand Tour of Rome

Before the Halsted A&A Foundation acquired the sculpture in 2023, it was tucked away in a rose-colored niche in Newby Hall, the North Yorkshire country house of William Weddell, a British landowner and politician who traveled to Rome to purchase it in the mid-1700s.

“By displaying the sculpture at Wrightwood 659, the foundation invites the public to see a work which has been largely out of general public view for nearly three centuries,” Karen Manchester, the curator of the Halsted A&A Foundation, says in a statement.

“Now, scholars, students and visitors will be able to study the statue of Athena closely and interpret it from many perspectives, including those of art history, restoration practices and gender studies,” she adds.

Among the most interesting features of this Athena is the 74.5-inch-tall statue’s hodgepodge provenance. Its head came from a sculpture carved during the time of the Roman emperor Augustus (31 B.C.E. to 14 C.E.). Meanwhile, its body was grafted from a statue dating to the reign of Claudius (41 to 54 C.E.), the ruler who conquered Britain, according to the statement.

The so-called "Halsted Athena" at its new home at Wrightwood 659, a gallery in Chicago

But this mishmash of marble wasn’t a scam to get the wealthy Weddell to purchase a seemingly intact statue of Athena. “Rather, many buyers preferred complete pieces, even if composed of unrelated parts,” Manchester explains.

When older parts weren’t available, sculptors would carve new ones, such as the so-called Halsted Athena’s left arm and a section between her jaw and chest. While these “pastiches” might confuse archaeologists attempting to trace an artwork’s origins, Manchester says they tell complex stories about art, taste and aesthetics throughout history, per the Observer’s Elisa Carollo.

The Halsted Athena emerges from the confines of Weddell’s Newby Hall at the same time that 58 pieces from the Torlonia Collection, a trove of ancient sculptures, travel to North America for the first time. They will go on view at the Art Institute of Chicago’s “Myth & Marble” exhibition, which opens on March 15.

Weddell’s own journey to Rome to purchase the statue reflects the practice of Grand Tours across the cities of the ancient world, popular among young British aristocrats. A painter who encountered Weddell on his Grand Tour of Rome once remarked that the collector had “[bought] such a quantity of pictures, marbles, etc. as will astonish the West Riding of Yorkshire.”

William Weddell and fellow British travelers as depicted by Nathaniel Dance-Holland, who remarked on the large number of antiquities that Weddell planned to bring home with him

Weddell and his fellow British travelers would have referred to the statue’s subject as Minerva, the Roman goddess, rather than Athena, “because they learned Latin in school, not ancient Greek, and therefore were familiar with the Latin names of deities,” Manchester tells Elena Goukassian of the Art Newspaper.

But the Roman statue distinctly depicts the Greek goddess, with her signature helmet and aegis, or sash-like cloak, draped across her chest.

“At the time these pieces were carved, the classical style was in vogue. In other words, ancient Roman customers wanted sculptures that reflected the look of ancient Greek and Hellenistic Greek,” Manchester adds.

Even in the first century C.E., when the statue took its complete form, Romans were harking back to an immemorial Greece. Now, the Halsted Athena’s voyage to the leafy avenues and art galleries of well-to-do Lincoln Park adds another chapter to its rich and complex backstory, stretching from Greece to Rome and from Yorkshire to Chicago.

By Eli Wizevich.

[simonsrosebud]

Andreil. Neil has a little accident and has temporarily amnesia. He flips out and is running, falling in old patterns. Andrew and others look for him

THIS WAS SO FUN!!


Andrew knows Neil. Inside and out. He knows how he moves on the court and off, how he sounds when he and Kevin go at it versus when he’s beneath Andrew, how his lips twitch when he tries holding back the grin he sees in his father and the squinty eyes he doesn’t care to hide when he laughs, how he opens himself up when laid bare on the bed and wants wants wants whatever Andrew is willing to give. Andrew knows how he thinks, how he expresses himself, how he panics and worries and takes initiative.

Andrew knows Neil.

But when Neil wakes up in the hospital, one thing is clear.

Neil does not know Andrew.

It starts on the court, the Foxhole Court, during a match against Edgar Allan. It would, of course. The nest closed just a year and a half ago, and despite half of the players either killing themselves or getting killed, there was still something of a team left over when the season started in the fall. Not good enough to win, but not bad enough to lose easily.

Andrew’s post in goal was the same as always. Watch, defend, reflect. This time around with significantly less goals to block, since Kevin and Neil have taken control the second half.

Neil Josten, legally and fully, zipping around the court faster than the speed of light. Vice Captain, Andrew’s roommate and something else, PSU’s best legacy thus far.

And he goes down like he weighs less than a feather.

To be clear, his helmet comes off first, flying and rolling away from him as he goes tumbling, into the wall head first, and then underneath a beast of a human being post-impact. And when the Raven shakily gets up, Neil doesn’t.

Andrew blacked out after that. He blacked out from the second he realized it was Neil’s helmet teetering beside Kevin’s foot to the second Wymack told him he was stable, just unconscious.

That was yesterday.

Yesterday was bearable after that. Neil was alive and asleep and definitely had a wild concussion, but he was fine and within Andrew’s reach.

Now, he’s throwing up in a bucket and freezing when his eyes land on Andrew. And Andrew knows, he knows, right then and there, that this is not the same Neil Josten that came into this hospital. This is Nathaniel Wesninski. This is Abram. Andrew just doesn’t know where Abram left off.

The panic is there clear as day, so is the pain and the confusion, and Abram is lucky that he’s wearing the hoodie the doctor allowed Wymack to put on him while he shivered early this morning because Andrew’s pretty sure if he catches sign of his arms he’s going to have a meltdown.

Still, he tries. “Neil.”

Abram looks, answers to the name, swallows heavily. Neil exists in there somewhere. “You got checked into the wall, your helmet came off.”

And he’s shaking his head, trembling fingers coming up to his hair to pull on it. “Why am I- You- Millport isn’t- I-I, I can’t be here. What the fuck- What are you doing here?”

And oh, Neil Josten exists alright. If only just barely.

Andrew stands, calmly presses the button to call the doctor, and sits again. “You are my teammate. What is the last thing you remember?”

He scoffs, fingers tightening in the sheets. Don’t look at your hands. “You are not… You’re Andrew Minyard.”

“Old news.”

Neil, predictably, starts panicking more, because then Kevin is waiting outside the room and peeking just barely through the glass until Andrew locks the door on him, and Neil is scrambling against the bed, fingers shaking too much to take the IV out of his arm despite trying. “Fucking Christ,” Andrew grunts as he swats his hand away from it, reverting to gripping Neil’s wrists. If it wasn’t for his own good it would make Andrew sick to be restraining him like this. “Do not,” he warns.

“You brought him. I have to get out of here, I won’t- I won’t go back there-“

Neil chokes on his breath, trying to pull his hands away and jesus did he just try to head-but Andrew? “Abram,” Andrew raises his voice just loud enough to cut through the breathing and grunting and struggling.

Neil freezes, and it’s not in realization but in deep rooted terror. His face blanches and his hands make fists. “Who are you,” he whispers. “You’re- You’re supposed to be a no one, you’re not- you’re not supposed to know- I- you have to let me go.” “No-“ “Andrew please-“ “Stop it.” “You- You can’t make me go- He’ll kill me, they’ll kill me, you have-“

“Knock it off,” Andrew barks. He lets go of Neil’s hands and backpedals. He can’t do the touching and the begging and the memories, the grief, the brief loss, the-

“Your father is dead. Romero and Plank are dead. Lola is in prison, Riko is dead, no one is dying, and I am not a mole taking you back to Baltimore so shut the fuck up and listen to me,” he says. It’s fast and stern and Neil shuts up so fast that his head looks like it spins. Andrew isn’t used to talking so fast, not after being off his meds.

He takes a deep breath. “It is October, 2008. You are a junior at Palmetto State University, you are the caption of the Foxes Exy team despite your attitude problem. Your name is Neil Abram Josten. Your father kidnapped you a year and a half ago and tried to kill you. Your uncle’s people got there in time and killed him. We left Nathaniel in Baltimore with your father.” Neil drops his head to his hands. “The FBI made Neil Josten a real person. Kevin knows who you are. We all do. No one cares. We’re past that.”

And… Neil clearly doesn’t know what to think considering the way he shakes his head slowly and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. “How the fuck do you expect me to believe that?”

God, how to answer such a thing? Andrew can’t recount where Neil’s scars are because it would only allude to the idea that he looked without permission. He didn’t have photos on his phone to show proof, though he could text Nicky to bring as many as possible at the drop of a hat.

He could tell stories, though. “You burned and buried your mother on a beach in California after a run in that got her shot. Your father smacked you with a hot iron because you didn’t sit still enough. Lola taught you how to use knives; you, Kevin, and Riko all watched your father cut a man to pieces at Evermore when you were a child. You had a tryout for Tetsuji before your mother took you and ran,” he says. “When you got shot,” he points to his own shoulder, “you wouldn’t take off your kevlar vest to even take a shower. You have a binder that hides money and safe houses within codes. You speak German, French, some Spanish, and have been learning Russian with me for the past year. You have friends and a life and protection from the Moriyama’s,” he says and crouches by the bed so that he’s only a bit lower than Neil. “You are safe. You just have amnesia.”

Neil continues to stare. The monitor he’s hooked up to shows how fast his heart is beating, but Andrew doesn’t look at it. He doesn’t look away from Neil because he needs to be able to see the truth and raw honesty in Andrew’s face. He can see the wheels turning, gears piling themselves up, and something finally must click or at least nag at his brain because Andrew catches Neil’s eyes flick down to his lips for a moment. “Why are you here? Why not- If you’re telling the truth, then…” he trails off.

“Because you are paranoid about hospitals and have a fear of needles.” Neil frowns further. “And because I wouldn’t let them take you without me,” he says in Russian. Neil’s eyes dart back to his, wide and alert and yes, because Andrew knows he understands him. He wants to count it as a victory.

“How the fuck do I know Russian?” It comes out louder than Andrew thinks he means to. “I don’t think… I don’t know if I could speak it, but I understood you. Why did I learn it with you?”

Jesus. Andrew sits back in the chair beside Neil’s bed and raises a calm eyebrow. “You were sick of people trying to figure this out,” he gestures between the two of them. “And I didn’t want anyone to understand us when telling you I want to blow you.”

Neil almost flinches in surprise at that. This time he lets himself stare at Andrew’s face unashamed. “So that’s why you’re here.”

-

Taking Neil home is an ordeal. He has a panic attack when he sees his arms and face; another one when Kevin finally gets himself into the room unannounced; flinches and tries to curl in on himself when Wymack comes storming into the room upon hearing that he’s awake; sits awkwardly while Robin cries when he doesn’t remember her; and has another meltdown when Nicky finally shows up with photos, proving Neil’s existence on the Foxhole lineup and essentially that everything Andrew said is true.

He’s given painkillers for the raging concussion headache he gets by the time he’s discharged- pills that he doesn’t take, to be clear, and stumbles to Andrew’s side when Wymack steps closer to grab the hospital bag from him. He accidentally latches onto Andrew’s sleeve, then lets go instantly like he’s been burned. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“He’s coming with us, Coach.”

Kevin gets booted from coming to Columbia because Neil is still wary of him, and Aaron comes just because Andrew tells him to, even if just for his medical knowledge. Aaron tries telling him he’s not in med school yet, but it doesn’t change his mind. Nicky, well, Nicky just comes for the ride.

The week following is…

Well, for starters, Andrew hates sleeping on the couch because of it being out in the open, but there’s no way he will continue sleeping in his bed with Neil like normal. They’re not there anymore.

The only upside is that when Andrew tells him he’s sleeping in his room, Neil goes upstairs and stands in the doorway of his room, albeit unsurely, without being told which room is which. His autopilot has been working, but when it comes to detail and memory he blue screens.

He doesn’t sleep, and Neil is in pain because he won’t take anything to relieve the pain, and Aaron won’t shut the fuck up about forcing him to take something.

Then, Neil runs.

He’s out the door before anyone else is awake, before he can be caught, and runs two miles. Through the neighborhood and onto a main road. He runs. His phone is left on Andrew’s bed and he shouldn’t even be running anyway with the state of his head.

Nicky is the first to notice. He’s nosy as always, and peeks into the bedroom to check on him at 5am. Andrew knows the second he rushes downstairs with a haunted look on his face. Stubbornly, all Andrew can think is not again.

To his frustration, Aaron is the one who finds him. Tells Andrew to follow Neil’s usual running pattern, path. Andrew’s never been on a run with him, though, because he’d rather stab himself. Nicky did it once in Palmetto, and Aaron gave in with Neil and Kevin back in March when he and Katelyn went through a brief rough patch.

And despite all odds, despite Neil not truly knowing his way around Columbia in this state, he’s sitting on the curb at his usual halfway point spot. Also known as the spot Nicky picked Aaron up from when he gave up after two miles.

Neil doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t make excuses. Just slides into the passenger seat and waits for the other two to go back inside before saying to Andrew, “Don’t let me run.”

“Don’t run.”

“I can’t- I’m not all there… yet,” he looks distraught as he taps his temple. “I know I shouldn’t run, I clearly have a life here and people I care about. But I’m-I’m still in Arizona in my mind. It was my first reaction to everything for longer than I can remember.”

So Andrew nods. “I won’t let you run.”

Day three and four are fine. Neil knows he likes pecan pancakes even though he had never had them until three weeks ago, and him and Aaron are just as douchey to each other as usual despite Aaron saying anything to make him believe he’s a dick. Neil Andrew catches him asking, yes or no, before stealing Andrew’s cigarette.

Night five is when nightmares start up, and they continue throughout the next week. Andrew isn’t a stranger to them, neither is Neil, but these are vivid. They are fuzzy memories twisted with what his mind fills in, and the second time in one night that Neil wakes up nearly screaming, he staggers down the stairs on unsteady feet into the den where Andrew is, sitting up and alert as he stands in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights. Neil drops to his knees, gasping, and pushes himself against the wall. Andrew has to lower in front of him slowly, and makes sure that Neil is watching as he puts a hand on the back of his neck. The effect is the same as always.

“Riko waterboarded me,” he wheezes, sucking in a harsh breath. “True or not true?”

Andrew purses his lips. “True. He invited you to Evermore over winter break your freshman year with a threat to make my rehab… therapeutic reenactments.” It feels like bile on his tongue, Neil snaps his head up, though, as if understanding what the reenactment was. “You went. He tortured you for two weeks.”

“And… Ichirou shot him in the head,” he whispers. “True? Or not true?” He shudders when Andrew nods.

Neil chews on his lip. “You and me… having sex,” it rocks Andrew to the core, thinking that Neil is still referring to a nightmare, but the curious and comfortable set to his body tells otherwise.

“True.”

Neil hums, ears and neck pink. “Do- Did we… do that a lot?”

Andrew wills himself not to crack. “Sex, no…” he started slowly. “Only twice,” he murmured. “Other things, yes.”

Neil looks away for a hot moment, taking a slow steady breath despite his red cheeks and goosebumps along his collarbone. Then he frowns deeply again, reminded of something more sinister than careful touches and honey eyes. There’s a few more he confirms or denies, and eventually Neil closes his eyes. “They’re blending together. All these fucking nightmares.”

“I will set them straight for you,” Andrew promises. “Trust me to tell the truth.”

Neil swallows, heavy and nervous, and cracks his eyes open. It takes him a few minutes to settle, to let his eyesight fully focus, before he looks up and meets Andrew’s eyes, blue gemstones alluring and tormented. “I trust you.”

[after-hours-art]

Get up, loser. We're going riding

Pairing: Nate Archibald x f!reader

Genre: fluff,comedy

Warnings: language,

All hail spring break. The sweet escape from the mundane of the Columbia lectures, banters between Serena and Blair, assignment due dates, and stress. And nothing quite says Spring Break like a retreat to Hamptons where your parents happen to own a small English-styled ranch. Every summer for you was always filled with lounging around the pool, horse rides, and parties with your friends.

You sigh in pleasure as you sunbath by the pool in the backyard. White swimsuit contrasts with lightly tanned for the past week skin. The weather has been generous enough to be sunny throughout your stay this year despite it being merely March. Unfinished tea stands on the table, already having caught the attention of the bees who found your sweet drink more appealing than the bush of blue peonies. Your eyes are closed as you savour the last day out of the city. Suddenly, a shadow casts down onto you. Confused, you open your eyes only to see the neighbours' son - Nathaniel Archibald. Though, your father only referred to him as Vanderbilt, refusing to acknowledge Nate's father. You raise your eyebrows, and then you spot two black helmets in his hands.

- Get up loser, We're going riding. - he says, throwing one on your stomach.

- Why? It's our last day of the break. Let me sunbath.

- Really? I've expected more enthusiasm out of the Hamptons Classic Horse Show champion. - he says, corner of his lips lifting up in a sheepish grin, one that really reflects his boyish energy, so unlike for a young Vanderbilt. He seemed more down when you saw him the last week at Columbia with that girl, Juliet, or whatever her name was. - Plus, sunbath in what? Sun might look nice, but it's still merely 46°F.

- Ex champion. The last time I've checked it's March, not August ten years ago. And I can sunbath whenever I want.

- Champion is still a champion. - he says. - Come on, not make me beg. And I bet you'd love to say goodbye to your horses, too. - he says, trying to tug on your heartstrings.

You roll your eyes, ready to scoff.

- You know that the point of lounging here and not being with horses is to ease my goodbye to them tomorrow?

- That's why we should come for a ride. To say a proper goodbye. - he takes your hand and gently pulls you up to sitting. - Come on. Last ride with a friend before it's time to return to gray reality?

- Why you're so clingy? - you scoff.

- Because I miss the girl next door. All the fun we had when we were younger, all the parties we ruined. - he smiles.

- The girl next door attends your school but you don't happen to notice her. - you say, pulling a thin white gown over your shoulders. Your lightly sun-kissed skin contrasting with the material catches his attention, making him smirk. As much as he'd like to control it, he's just a guy. When you notice the way he looks at you, you shoot a disapproving glare.

- Really? You're asking me for a ride only to ogle me? - you scoff. You start walking towards the house, Nate following after you with his glance focused on one particular part of your body.

- What can I do? I'm just a man.

- You're just a man, but it doesn't mean you can't control yourself. I'm just a woman, and you don't see me staring at your crotch. - you say, causing a pink blush of embarrassment to appear on his cheeks. - Meet me at the stables in half an hour.

- Wait. If you couldn't control yourself, you would stare? - he calls after you, but you're already halfway up the stairs on the first floor and pretend like you can't hear him. Nate shakes his head and is still a little ashamed for being called out like that walks out of your family's summer house to get ready himself.

//

You stand in the 5PM sun, leaning against wooden stall doors. Black Friesian mare that stands behind you nibbles on your tweed Chanel jacket.

- Coco, quit it. - you say in baby voice. - Don't be a little bitch. - you scold your horse gently.

Coco has been in the family for quite a long time. She's your mother's favourite. That fact might have affected the way she behaves since, for a horse who doesn't quite understand the value of the dollar, she is quite spoiled. Beige breeches hug your legs, elegant, freshly polished, riding boots reflect the setting sun. By your heel rests riding helmet from Chanel's 2013 collection. You mutter sweet praises to Coco as you await Nate.

- Finally! - you raise your voice and smile seeing the blonde in the navy riding set. You can't help but smirk seeing a polo riding helmet in his hands. - Archibald! I thought you're trying to be late and come for a ready horse! And that helmet, is it a Ghost of Hamptons Past?

Nate returns the smile, walking up to you.

- Forgive me. Mother had to dig this outfit out when I said I'm going horse riding with you.

- Lovely, she wants to play a match-maker. Too bad I'm engaged. - you present a fake pout.

- Oh, I didn't know. How's the lucky guy? - Nate looks confused, his expression reminding you of your golden retriever when he gets confused by commands.

- I was joking. Christopher doesn't want to get too serious. He says it'll hurt his 'bad boy' renoma. - you roll your eyes and turn around to face the stalls. Nate walks over to you, greeting Coco with gentle pat on her neck. The black mare's ears instantly pin flat against her neck as she tries to bite Nate. He jumps away from the stall, looking slightly scared.

- Your gigantic dog tried to bite me. Please tell me I'm not looking at my trail ride companion.

You can't help but crack a smile.

- My mom would've killed me if she knew I let anyone touch, let alone ride Coco. She's her little princess.

- Like what, she loves the horse more than you? - Nate jokes, following you to the small tack room. You pick a set of black bridle with a simple bit and hand it to Nate. He hangs it on his shoulder, ready to take a saddle from you when you'll hand it.

- Coco was supposed to be my horse. My mom had that classic equestrian fantasy that her child would grow up along the horse, they'll become best friends and such. - you tell, picking a black general purpose saddle that has black deprecation half pad and navy saddle pad. - Guess what, Coco was sassy as a filly, and she remained that way. Never really liked me, so... when I was thirteen, I got my own horse.

Nate chuckles as he takes the saddle from you.

- You picked a horse with a tack that matches my outfit for me? - he chuckles as you pick up your equipment.

- I'm just a girl, Nate. I couldn't resist.

He rolls his eyes but doesn't comment, a soft, content smile lighting up his face. Hamptons is always so easy when you're around. You always were his sweet escape from Blair and Chuck's schemes, from Serena's flirts and dramas she tends to cause. There definitely is something about sheltered girl next door that always was in the back of his head. Something about that innocence radiating from you, equally annoying and captivating. Though it definitely served as his very own entertainment show when religiously for four summers, you've been rejecting Chuck's advances.

Nate follows behind you as you walk towards the stalls. Your family doesn't own a lot of horses. Your parents permanently moved to Hamptons only a few months ago when you started university, though they still make monthly visits that last a week. You guide Nate to the stalls, finally hanging the tack on an iron hanger. A head of a bay Hannoverian gelding pops out from above the door, curious horse instantly reaching to sniff your clothes.

- Hello, pretty boy. - you gently touch the horse's muzzle and give him a quick kiss. - You gonna miss me, don't you?

You turn back to Nate and point a stall next to yours.

- That's your companion. His name is Snowflake. He's a gelding and a total cutie. But be careful with back hoofs. He thinks that you might want to hurt him or something.

- So I did got a horse that will try to kill me. - Nate jokes, putting his tack on the hanger. - And here I thought you liked me.

- I do. I picked you a horse to match your outfit, did I?

He leans over the stall door, his eyes meeting with an Andalusian gelding.

- Poor guy, they chopped your balls off? - he says, letting the horse smell him before carefully grabbing the halter as he opens the stall door, wanting to walk the horse out. If Snowflake is so sensitive about his legs as you claim, then it's definitely safer for Nate to groom and saddle him up outside the stall.

- That's what we do when our boys are bad... - you joke, entering your horse's stall. - Or at least that's what happened to Snowflake. When we got him, he was so aggressive towards Coco. - you murmur, gently grooming your horse. - But then again, Coco wouldn't let herself be attacked, so she beat him up. Pretty badly, he was limping for a few good months. Damage was just almost permanent. So he got fixed. And immediately became a sweet gentelman. Who knew what magic could simple removal of testicles do? - you chuckle and carry on with brushing your horses coat.

- So that's what you'll do to Christian if he'd piss you off? A quick fix? - Nate jokes, carefully cleaning the front hooves of Snowflake's, white gelding looking like he's about to take a nap.

- His name is Christopher. And no, I won't have to. He shows so little initiative that I won't ever have to. - you mutter quietly, putting the tack on your horse, fastening the girth loosely.

- A pillow princess boyfriend?

- No. Actually sex is the only thing he shows initiative towards. - you murmur quietly, mentally questioning yourself why you're even sharing this detail. You gently tug on the reins, waking your horse out of his stall. It does hurt that Christopher only shows initiative, or any feelings other than indifference or annoyance towards you, in a situation where he knows he'd get you to do things for him. And, as gullible to his empty yet sweet words and people pleasing as you are, you always do.

Nate follows you with his gaze, suddenly feeling pang of guilt for even mentioning your boyfriend.

- So just a regular jerk.

- He's not a jerk. - you scoff, adjusting the length of the stirrup leathers, just to avoid his worried expression.

- Then what he is if not a jerk? A caring boyfriend? Loving partner?

- It was supposed to be a nice, friendly ride. - you say, your hands almost automatically reaching for Snowflake's tack, carefully saddling up the gelding, leaving Nate to only observe. - Not a therapy session.

- The dude makes you need therapy? - Nate asks bluntly, gently putting the bridle on Snowflake.

- Nathaniel, please. - you ask, fastening the girth so the saddle will stay secured. Nate doesn't answer, respecting your request, putting on his polo helmet.

- Thanks for saddling him up. - he says, turning to adjust the stirrup leathers.

Corners of your lips lift a little in a relieved smile that he dropped the uncomfortable topic. A soft muzzle touches your lower back. You chuckle and turn to your horse, the gentle gelding apparently sensing your distress wanted to sooth you the only way he could. Metal snap link shines in the sun, making a clicking sound when you take it off your horse's bit's circle.

- The mounting block is next to the pasture. And from there it's straight road to the gate so you have to be careful. - you instruct Nate, clicking your tongue to distract your horse from Snowflake behind him.

A few moments and little adjustments to saddles' girths later, you find yourself on the small trail to the beach. Horses' hooves hit the gravel trail, which, mixed with occasional horse snorting and singing birds, being the only sounds around you two for now. The sun falls on your faces once you take a turn to the left and walk down on the beach. Your horse, surprised by the sudden change on the bed, flinches and backs out, his rumb dangerously close to Snowflake's chest and Nate's right leg.

- Y/N... I'm not an expert, but your horse seems like he might kick Snowflake... - he says, just in case of being bucked, grabbing the reins firmer. His stomach twists uncomfortably seeing that his leg is in almost direct way of your horse's potential kick. Both horses have their ears pin flat, which only serves as another stress factor to him.

- It's okay. I got this. If you could... back Snowflake a little? - you ask, holding the reins firmly yet gently, using your calves and pelvis to encourage your horse to walk on the sand.

- Back a horse?

- For God's sake, you played polo. - you mutter, trying to control your own emotions, not wanting the nervous creature underneath you sense any negativity from you.

- Yeah, a million years ago. - Nate scoffs, but thanks to muscle memory, he manages to back Snowflake. He straightens his posture up, lifting his hands up and with slight pressure applied to the reins and subtle leg pressure. The Andalusian responds to gentle guidance from his rider, removing himself just enough to be relatively safe from potential bucking from your horse.

Your gelding keeps on resisting the careful pressure of your calves on his side and gentle tugs of the reins, necessary to prevent him from sudden bucking.

- I can't do this anymore. - you mutter and get off the saddle.

As if touched with a magic wand, your horse obediently follows you down the tiny slope, not minding the change of footing from gravel to sand. You turn and look at the bay gelding in pure disbelief. Right behind your horse, Nate's walks down, and his rider doesn't hide a smile on his face.

- You're laughing now. - you scoff, pretending to be hurt, as you get back in the saddle, gripping the reins tighter as not to let your horse spring into full gallop the second he sees the open field of the beach. - But if it was you, you'd be begging me to switch horses. - You settle in the saddle, hands gently yet firmly holding the leather reins.

Nate smiles as he looks at you, the sun making your shine with a hint of warm golden hue. He can't help but notice a few sparks in your eyes as you take the scenery - empty beach, waves, horses - in.

- Wanna race? - he asks, guiding his horse to stand next to yours.

He doesn't get a chance to hear your answer when Snowflake yanks reins from his hands, starting to gallop down the coast. The hooves hit wet sound, and the soft noise combines with the sound of the waives. It takes him a few seconds to gather up to loose reins, knowing how dangerous it would be for the horse to just leave them to the fate. Despite regaining the control over the horse, the Andalusian still remains stronger as he carries on with the gallop, ears perked up. Nate looks over his shoulder, chuckling to himself when he sees your horse running after his.

The wind hits your face as you're trying to catch up to Nate. Couple tears fall down your cheeks as the pressure of the air irritates your eyes. You shift your position in the saddle, lifting your bottom off the saddle to the jumping position, letting your horse run even faster. Being generally lighter than Snowflake, your horse has no problem with catching up to the white steed in front of you. The sound of hooves hitting the wet sand, combined with the snorts of the horses, as neither of them wants to lose, creates an ambience of every equestrian's dream. Another five hundred meters into the race, both horses start to wear down, gradually slowing to canter. You gently nudge your horse to slow to trot. The Hanoverian relaxes, reaching his head forwards and chewing on the bit. Nate slows down his horse, having him align with yours.

Once both caples calmly walk together, you reach over to Nate and smack his arm.

- They needed a warm-up. You can't just show them an open road and gallop down it. - you scoff, caressing your horse's neck. Nate smiles apologetically.

- Snowflake yanked the reins from me.

- And that's an excuse you'd use during the polo match?

Hearing your jibe Nate can't help but smile a bit. He missed that friendly teasing between you two.

- You know that you haven't changed? - he says softly, a hint of melancholy in his voice. - It's like going back in time five years, and we're fifteen again.

- We're missing poorly riding Chuck a kilometre behind us. - you chuckle. Nate bursts into a laughter at the memory of his best friend's attempts to endear you, that including a structured lie about horse riding skills.

- If you had given him a chance, he'd give up. Chuck likes chasing more than a steady relationship.

- Come on. - you chuckle. - As if you didn't enjoy it when your grandfather's horse had enough and bucked him into water.

- I didn't. - Nate says in solidarity to his friend, but in his eyes shine small sparks of joy. He turns his head to face you and admires the setting sun at the sea horizon. - Do you ever wish that times like this could be frozen in time?

You look at him, a few blond locks poking from his helmet shining like gold in the sun. For the first time since you two met, Nathaniel Archibald appears to you as someone else than a partner in crime from childhood and adolescence, descendant of Vanderbilt's. Before you can name the feeling, you focus your gaze back on the beach in front of you, reminding yourself that you are already in a relationship. Finally, you break the silence.

- You ass would hurt if we were frozen in eternal trail ride. And horses would get tired.

Upon hearing that, Nate laughs again, his eyes still locked on you.

- I should've expected this answer.

[ledetlore]

I feel that I should let you know that I mentioned your fic in my self-reflection essay for my psychology class. Specifically when Kremy is going through all those Microaggressions by Nathaniel and Juliette in chapter 2.

Just thought you should be aware that my twink psyc professor is about to be given psychic damage via your fic.

Hey man why would you do that. That's insane. Give me a name they'll recognise and I'll work it in somehow.

[sploopyghost]

Reflection

Line Divider

Marinette was annoyed that her friends believed lila's lies, so, when lunch came around she decided to sit somewhere else. Looking around she spotted nathaniel sitting with marc, aurora, and a few others and decided to sit with them. They were a little surprised by her presence but didn't say anything, until they saw her continuously glancing at her friends surrounding lila. When they asked about it, she immediately launched into a rant explaining how lila was a liar. By the end of it she had this look on her face that begged them to believe her. Marinette was shocked that not only did they know she was lying but everyone in school knew. The only ones who believed her were her friends, which some of them found kind of sad

Marinette spent the next few minutes learning that everyone knew from when she first arrived and that she was the cause of some friendships ending between her friends and others. She argued that that's why they should call her out but they saw it as not worth it. If they were so quick to believe a girl they've known for not even a week, because she skips school so much, over them who they've known for years, then that says a lot more about them than it does lila. Instead of coming to them and asking if they pushed lila or said mean things to her, they chose to believe her without question and stop being friends with them. The only reason they found out why they stopped talking to them was because nathaniel had told them

They give marinette a reality check saying that the only reason some of the things lila says is even somewhat believable is because she's done some of those things, just not to her. Whenever adrien comes into the picture her morals and common sense go out the window. When she feels a girl is getting too close to him she does talk shit about them to her friends calling them 'evil', and she has harassed girls getting close to adrien. Sure, she's apologized after harassing them but because she does this repeatedly with other girls, it comes off as insincere. And as mush as her friends say that her crush on adrien was cute, it was the furthest thing from it

Marinette was unaware that that's how she came across to others, but she really did mean those apologies. She wanted to argue that her crush was normal, but then she thought about if the roles were reversed. She wouldn't find it cute that some boy was secretly harassing people around her because he felt they were getting too close. Honestly, what was the difference between her and a fangirl, that she was lucky enough to be in the same class and be friends with him. If anything that made it worse because that would mean she was a fangirl masking as his friend. The more she thought about it and looked back on her actions, the more uncomfortable and ashamed she became

After their talk at school Marinette decided she didn't want to be like that anymore. She was determined to reflect and change, starting with her room. With the help of tikki she took down all of the Adrien posters, got rid of his schedule, and donated the presents that didn't have his name on it. Over the next few months everyone noticed the change in marinette. She stopped calling lila out trying to prove she was a liar and instead was indifferent to her. She reached out to the girls she had previously harassed and gave a heartfelt apology. Her class thought she had finally gotten over her jealousy regarding lila, but everyone else knew the truth, she was trying to make amends

At first she was worried that no one would truly believe that she was trying to change, but after weeks of her not going back into old habits they started to be more open towards her. People from other classes started hanging out with her more and even inviting her to join them in things outside of school. She felt lighter now that things didn't revolve around adrien or trying to figure out her next move to prove that lila was lying. She still had a crush on adrien but it was a lot more tame with her talking and getting to know him. Adrien had started to avoid the class and lila so that she couldn't hang off him and in turn started hanging out with others including marinette

In the beginning marinette didn't understand why the others didn't fight to keep their friendships with her class, until she was faced with the same situation. Alya had at least come up to her and asked if she had said mean things to lila, but despite her saying she was with marc and the others, she clearly didn't believe her. On one hand she could argue with her about why she couldn't have done it, but on the other alya had already made up her mind that she did it. Why come to her if she already decided she was guilty of whatever lila had accused her of, if she was never going to hear her out. So, she made it clear she didn't do it and couldn't have possibly done it unless she can be in two places at once, and walked away. She finally understood why the others let their friendships go, there's no point in arguing with someone who's already made up their mind

[pink-envelope]

Blooming Panic Magical Boy Headcanons

-Their personas are all based on the Bloomic characters they're assigned to. And so they take up abilities that reflect that. Bloombot is their Luna/ Kyuubey/ Kero/ magical creature that is there to guide them because they're chosen by destiny/ yada yada.

Quest: Based on Xander of coarse.

Powers include:

Redirection- Can make an arrow appear on the ground to move an ally or enemy.

Healing- Self explanatory.

Shield- It's in the shape of a 2D blue rose design.

Other wise can use general punches and kicks to do damage.

NightOwl: Based on Damien.

Powers include:

Life drain- fangs glow with a pink light, can pierce victim to drain them of strength to health himself or bolster strength.

Wall scale- can move up buildings vertically and navigate through them with ease and understanding how their layouts are.

Charm person- can temporarily charm victim to let down their guard or comply to demand.

Offensive weapons are mostly fangs and claws.

XYX: Based on... Celeste!

Powers include:

Smooth talk- can convince you to comply or believe what ever he says so long as it's said in a rhyme or tongue twister. This works less the more you do it on a single person.

Water manipulation- self explanatory.

Beast communication- can talk to animals, namely to a very specific ornery cat.

Offensive moves also include the punches and the kickings.

Nakedtoaster: Based on Nathaniel

Powers include:

Conjuration- can manifest objects of certain size, bigger as skills improve. Attempts to conjure an object with sentiency like bloombot eventually rebel.

wall flower- can blend into the background with near invisibility; if they speak it breaks the illusion, however.

Command- can put a one word movement command on an item like "lift" on a platform or "off" on an powered electronic. This has a cool down period so it's best to use a sequence of different items. Good for "return"-ing weapons to hand when they've been kicked away.

The one most likely to use weapons for fighting, other wise melee as well.

[ryttu3k]

Parliament of Knives, Lasombra Astarion edition! Inability to see his reflection? Check. Weird family dynamics? Check! This Astarion will be starting from a position of privilege (I'm basically playing him as the magistrate, not the beaten-down spawn), but it's still very much a position where he's been manipulated by his sire. What will it take to break free? Chapters 1-5!

"Shadows," "Traitors," "Turncoats;" you've heard all the slurs for your clan before. But in instances where the name Lasombra simply won't do, you prefer to think of yourself as a "Magister."

See?

Man I hate being a dick to Gerard but I definitely feel privileged Camarilla Astarion would be a dick to Gerard 😔

In life, before you were chosen by Corliss to join clan Lasombra, you were… …a politician who was the true power behind a high-profile elected official. (+composure, +manipulation, +charisma)

Yeah guess that'd be the best fit. He certainly wouldn't work as a Catholic priest or an athlete XD

Okay! Starting stats, as of the beginning of chapter 2 - MAN 2, COM 2, DEX 1, WIT 1, RES 1. Normally in VtM, these would all be 1 minimum, but CoG always handles things a bit differently. Definitely gonna work on that DEX, he can't be Astarion without good DEX XD

"You shouldn't underestimate the power of an elder Kindred to alter the nature of a young, malleable mind," Corliss says. "Especially that of a fledgling." You're not sure you like the way she said that.

:)

"There came a time where I required worthy childer. You may have heard of Nathaniel, my first. He was brash, utterly reckless, and by the end of his first year he'd announced his heritage to a small coterie of neonates with delusions of grandeur. Needless to say, Arundel and I were forced to destroy the lot of them. With Lucca, we would take no such chances. Arundel placed strategic blocks in her mind to ward off her access to Oblivion. He couldn't remove her abilities per se, but the mind cannot employ functions that it doesn't remember exist. She was raised as a Ventrue." Corliss can't be telling the truth… "Even Arundel can't have that kind of power," you say. "Surely such a thing is impossible!" "You'd be surprised what a powerful elder can do with repeated treatments as a fledgling grows into her powers."

:)

"Look," Qui says. "I'm not just a Sewer Rat - I'm also the Sheriff. Mortals shy away from me if I let them get too close, neonates know I could be ordered to destroy them at a moment's notice, and the elders just see me as a tool. So pardon me if I talk to my car."

Aw, Qui.

I'm not sure what choices I did to get to this point, but I'm getting an investigation I've never had before? Neat. I've done like six or seven different unique runs of this game and it's still got brand new stuff. I wonder if it's new from the DLC (I've only done one run with it, a Malk run) or if it's just… stuff I haven't got to?

A crestfallen young man has just been very publicly dumped by his girlfriend. Lending a sympathetic ear should get me close enough to feed. You approach the young man with a sympathetic smile and lead him over to the bar. Thankfully he's so distraught that he doesn't even bother to question your motivations. You buy him a beer and pretend to listen while he pours his heart and soul out to you in an endless babble of word soup that almost puts you off your appetite. Eventually you tune out and just nod at the appropriate intervals until he finally stops talking and swipes sweaty fingers through his long emo-bang.

Astarions gonna Astarion.

I explored the city along its rooftops, satisfying my curiosity through an economy of movement and grace, free of distraction as I looked down from above. (+dexterity, +resolve)

Astarions really gonna Astarion XD

Man I super do not like Basaras XD;; That said, all the Lasombra stuff is extremely interesting! I do happen to know what Basaras' deal is, but it'll be interesting seeing how it fits into the larger PoK plot.

You slip behind the desk closest to the back wall, where a casual passer-by would be least likely to notice anything out of place, and get to your knees, fumbling with the USB drive. It takes you at least three tries to orient it properly to fit in the slot—you swear that sometimes these USB drives exist in 4-D space.

Haha yeah.

[acronym-chaos]

Ben Rilley (Marvel) ID Pack

[PT: Ben Rilley (Marvel) ID Pack].

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom. End ID].

Names

[PT: Names].

Aiden, August, Blaise, Bly, Brick, Carli, Carmine, Cerise, Clancy, Damon, Davian, Echo, Emerie, Flynn, Forge, Gray, Gregor, Jace, Jared, Jesse, Jones, Jordan, Lex, Marco, Mars, Meg, Nathaniel, Neo, Nitro, Poppy, Radcliff, Radley, Rook, Rory, Russell, Rusty, Ryan, Scarlett, Serena, Shea, Sienna, Sorrell, Thomas, Trista, Vaughn, Vikki, Wilco, Yvonne

Pronouns

[PT: Pronouns].

Anti / Hero / Antis, Clone / Clones / Clones, Cra / Crawl / Crawls, DNA / DNAs / DNAs, Doubt / Doubts / Doubts, Hope / Hopes / Hopes, Mask / Masks / Masks, Mem / Memo / Memorys [Memory], Mir / Mirr / Mirrs [Mirror], Reflect / Reflection / Reflects, Sca / Scar / Scars, Scar / Let / Scars [Scarlet], Spid / Spider / Spiders, Web / Webbed / Webs

Titles

[PT: Titles].

[Pronoun] Who Struggles to Find [Pronouns] Place, A Clone Searching for Identity, A Hero Reborn, A Scarlet Reflection, A Second Chance Hero, One Who Lived A Hundred Lives, The Mirror Image, The One Who Was Never Meant to Exist, The Scarlet Hero, The Spider Clone, The Spider Who Lost [Pronounself]

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom, End ID].

Requested by anon

Also tagging: @id-pack-archive