#they shall get to the ones in the inbox shortly :) :)

[wonderlandwalker]

Remember | Finnick Odair x Reader

thg masterlist / inbox / part two

summary: The capitol has taken you from him, but he won't let them keep you.tags / content warnings: violence, bullet wounds, major character injury, blood, needles, angst, fluff, no use of y/n word count: 4.0k

requested by anon: omg I love your writing and I have an unhealthy addiction to reading angst so could you please write something about the reader being with peeta and Johanna when they where taken by the capital and her being with finnick and recovering while she’s in district 13? 🫶🫶

a/n: The way I smiled when I saw this request I swear. This one has been in the works for a little while and I thought it fit perfectly. It is angst you ask for and it is angst you shall get. I'm considering writing a part two but I'm not sure how to yet. My bad habit of not proofreading happened again and with this one especially it was way too long so if I made any major errors pls do let me know.

The Capitol.

You are currently in the Capitol.

At least that’s where you think you are. You remember being in the arena, you remember running towards the general direction you last saw Finnick, remembering the marks you had gone by in case you had to take a different route. You remember seeing Finnick's face through the plantation, you’d be able to recall those features anywhere. You remember something hitting you from behind and falling to the ground, too caught up in catching up with him to check your surroundings. You remember crying out in pain, hoping he’d hear you. But the next thing you remember is the vision of him slowly going out of focus and losing consciousness not long after. 

At least that's what you think happened.

At least you can still remember, that’s worth something right? You remember your past, and you remember the reaping that led to the arena. The flood of relief that went over you as you finally found your way back to him. You don’t know what happened to Finnick, he was there too after all, but you had needed to split up early. Maybe he had been caught off guard too. Maybe he escaped. Maybe they never even found him. Maybe with him being the idiot he could be, he was probably already on his way here, looking for you. Just like you would have done for him, and he would have called you an idiot then too.

You would get out of here one way or another, that much you knew, but you needed to remember more, you needed to remember the last look on his face, you hadn't had much time to take it in, but you remembered the furrow of his eyebrows, the same expression he always had when he was trying to concentrate, you needed to remember that.

You knew that once you did get out of here, Finnick would be furious, telling you that you had been reckless, that you shouldn't have let your guard down, shortly after telling you how worried he had been. And it would feel like coming home.

Your mind becomes hazier, and it is harder to remember. You feel your head throbbing, and you move your hand towards it until you feel it can move no further. You open your eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the bright light that covers the room. You can't see much, can't move your head much.

You remember the rendezvous point you had talked about. You remember the quick “don't get yourself in trouble” and the kiss he gave you right before you parted ways.

You remember the layers of plants and trees you moved through, seeing some of them cut down, letting you know someone else had been there

But you know there is more, more that you missed. The stomped-out ashes that you ran past, you know you should have paid closer attention. But you can’t remember

You need to remember what happened. How you got here. Who got you here. If you really are in the capitol. But your mind doesn't want to cooperate anymore. The room is getting darker and darker, even though the lamp above your head is still dutifully buzzing

You wake up, you still remember where you are, or at least where you think you are. You still remember yesterday, was it yesterday? Why couldn't they just hang a clock in here? 

You look up, and you see a device set up, not too far from where you're lying down. You try to get a better look but the light above your head is too blinding to see anything else in the room. You don’t fully understand it until a man walks into the room with a video camera in his hand and an expression on his face that seems just a tad too happy. 

The camera starts blinking a red light, signalling you that it has started recording. The man has a sort of laser that he presses into your lower stomach, it doesn't breach your skin but it hurts like it does. It takes all your energy not to show him the satisfaction of it.

“Come on now darling, work with me a little.” He says after a while, changing the setting on the laser. The last bit of your energy is gone, and you can't keep the screaming from escaping any longer. It echoes off the white walls around you and when you hear yourself, you barely even recognize it. He seems satisfied with the result and finally puts the laser down. You look down but don't see any burn marks or indication of what has just happened.

He comes closer and you can see he is holding a sort of crowbar, but you're not sure why. You remember how you always left one outside your window in the districts, in case the wind had shut it and you needed to sneak back in. You remember Finnick finding out, giving you a serious, disappointed look, but not telling you to stop.

Before you can think of anything else, the bar hits you with full force, right above the spot he was previously focused on. You didn't expect it, and it knocks the little breath you had left out of your lungs. He hits again, not in the same spot, but close, he is very clearly aiming for your ribs. The switching between high-tech and old-school weapons has you puzzled, but you can't deny the result either of them has.

After a while, he stops, and with the added difficulty and pain that now comes with breathing, you are more than certain he just bruised a few of your ribs.

He walks back, taking the camera in his hands. He aims it at your face and you close your eyes to try and collect yourself as much as your current state allows. Your hair is a tangled mess and you are rather certain there is blood smushed over your face from the cuts you got in the arena. 

“Smile for the camera sweetheart.” He asks, even though it sounds more like an order than a request. You open your eyes to look at him. He is so close, and you want to drive your thumbs so far into his eye sockets you can feel the front lobe of his brain, if he even has one. But you can't do anything, no matter how much you want to fight, you are powerless here. You close your eyes again, trying to block everything out and remember.

You remember District Four, the way the light summer breeze would always carry the smell of the beach to your house, no matter how hard you had it, it always livened you up. You remember the first time Finnick tried to teach you how to surf, being so gentle with you no matter how many times you fell off it, always there to catch you again. You remember your last birthday, well, the day after, but you couldn't even complain about that. He had picked you up from your place and brought you to one of the lakes with him. He told you the story of one of his birthdays when he was younger, along with all the embarrassing details, but of course, it only endeared him further to you. You told him about the presents you got and all the people who came to wish you a happy birthday. You told him everything you could remember. You remember last seeing his face, maybe it was the last time you will have ever seen it. No. No, you remember it, but you’ll see it again, you have to.

“I’ll make sure your loverboy gets to see this, wherever he is, wouldn't want him to miss out on the fun.” 

Finn. Finnick. You remember Finnick. You remember when you returned from your first games. The black eye and broken arm you came home with. You remember how he lost it when they didn't immediately treat you for it. He would now either throw a fit over it for everyone to see or be so stoic in his thoughts even Johanna would get a little concerned.

You see the man standing up, walking to the table, and picking up something new. A syringe, it's a syringe. He walks over and pushes it into your upper arm, and before you know it, your vision turns black again.

You remember waking up to gunshots, and you panic. But after a few seconds, you figure out they’re not near you. There is, however, someone in the room with you, it's the same man again. He looks a little panicked, but you can’t figure out why just yet. The gunshots are becoming louder, and closer, and he seems more startled now. His arms drop to his sides from what he was doing and his eyes widen. Screams are echoing and you can hear footsteps.

You remember that pattern of paddling feet, and you recognize the second pair of steps too, but you can't remember much else.

The man gets closer to you, placing his hand over your mouth, pulling out a gun with his free hand and telling you to stay quiet. You never understood why people say that, it means he has something to lose, and you want to scream out, but your voice doesn't remember how to.

It's even closer now, right outside the door, and you can hear talking. You remember his voice. How he always asked you so sweetly how your day had been, the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you fell asleep. 

You hear the door jiggle, and it makes you want to scream out for him, but your sore throat won't let you. For a moment you think that is it, you had your chance, and you let it go by. He’ll move along the hallway to the other doors and leave you here. But then you hear another gunshot, and they must have shot the lock, because right after you hear someone running into the door with an echoing thump as it breaks open. 

The man next to you had his gun pointed at the door, and he changes it to point at you instead. 

You were right, by the gods you had never been so thankful to have been right. Finnick walks in, and you can see the colour drain from his face as he does so. 

The man standing next to you is starting to get nervous, you can see the sweat starting to drip down his face. He must realize he has been matched, because there are more people by Finnicks side. But the man still has his gun pointed at you, and this isn't over just yet.

You can't keep your eyes open anymore, and when you close them, you remember. You remember your first kiss with Finnick, how nervous he had been at the time. He had been shaking a little and told you he was embarrassed by how much you got to him, but it only endeared him further to you.  He yells at the man to let go of the gun, he sounds nervous again.

But he doesn't let go, he decides to shoot. 

You hear the bullet leaving the gun, and for a single moment, you think it's over. The last thing you’ll ever see is Finnick, but he’s not himself. He’s upset, and even though you know he’s not upset with you, it still tugs at you. Except when you feel the bullet piercing through your skin, that's exactly what you realise. You can still feel it. He didn't shoot you right in the heart, he didn't shoot towards your head, he shot you in the abdomen. You’re not sure why, not sure why he didn't kill you, but you will never know, because not even a second passes as you hear a second gunshot, and he falls to the floor.

You can't seem to remember how to open your eyes, but you can hear Finnick rushing over and right as he reaches you, you fall. You fall into his arms and the memory of it gives you hope. Something comes in contact with your stomach, and the agony of it makes you want to scream out. You can feel him lifting you, and the shift of your body makes the bullet move, making you want to scream again. And if you remembered how to, you would have.

You know he’s talking to someone, but it sounds more like buzzing to you. You can only make out certain parts of the conversation, something about needing to leave, something about infections, and something about an aircraft. 

You can hear him talking again, and this time it’s directed at you. There’s a strain in his voice, and it sounds like he’s crying. It makes you want to comfort him, but you don’t remember how to.

“Please darling, just open your eyes."

But you’re afraid, youre afraid that if you open them, everything will turn out to be nothing but a dream, and he won’t be here anymore. But even if this is a dream, you need to see him. Even if it will turn into a haunted memory, you need to see his eyes looking back at you. It takes you some effort, but you open your eyes, looking at him. You can see tears flooding his face, you can see his lips moving, silent pleas coming from them for you to stay awake. He’s telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he's telling you to hold on. He promises that he won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again and that he won’t let go of you anymore.

You remember how he cried when you were reaped for the 75th games, and how you had told him everything would be okay, how you had comforted him, but you don't have the energy to comfort him this time. You remember hearing his sobbing, his shaking voice when you close your eyes again, not being able to keep them open any longer, even if you wanted to.

You wake up again, and for a moment you think it had indeed all been a dream, that you were right back where you had started, But then you remember the bullet in your stomach. You look down and see a bandage over it, even though it’s already soaked in blood. They must have taken it out. 

You try and concentrate, and you can hear Finnick talking to someone. “Just tell me, I know it’s bad but I need to know.” “Finnick, it won’t make a difference.” The person he’s talking to sounds desperate, and you remember how stubborn he could be when it came to you. 

But you don’t remember more, because your head starts to feel light again and you give in to the feeling.

When you wake up again, you manage to open your eyes, and you can see someone sitting in a chair next to the bed you're in. He’s slumped over, his face half pressed into the mattress and half into your stomach, both of his hands are holding onto one of yours. It hurts a little, but you don't mind, because it reminds you, even when you look away, that he is still there. You remember the way he always softly snores, and the way he wiggles his nose when your hair falls over it.

You think you're connected to a monitor, because something is beeping in the same rhythm you can feel your heart beating, and it gives you a headache. So you close your eyes again, and once again, you give in to the feeling of sleep that looms over you.

Since you had been brought to District 13, he has barely left your side. He keeps putting cold washcloths on your forehead to try and break your fever. It won't help, and he knows it, but no one has the heart to stop him. 

You haven't shown a single sign of life since they had found you. It was unsettling, the silence that filled the room, none of your usual laughter and banter there to replace it. 

It’s only when Finnick's head shoots up that the others notice it as well. The steady beeping that has been imposing the silence in this room for weeks picking up its pace. The beating continues to go faster and faster, your body shaking up from the bed in almost the same rhythm. But right before anyone can do anything about it, it stops. It all seems to stop, you stop moving, and the monitor stops beating.

He starts giving you chest compressions, and someone rushes into the room holding a small bottle, they fill a syringe with the clear liquid and inject it into your arm. Within a few seconds, your heart starts beating again. But it’s only after a minute of the monitor showing him a steady heartrate that he stops his actions.

It’s dark in the room when Finnick wakes up, and if it wasn't for the soft light and the beeping of the monitor, he would've thought he was dreaming, but it seems the reality won’t let him escape. He struggles not to fall back asleep, and every few minutes he does, but every time he wakes up startled again, scared that you’ll be gone if he doesn't open his eyes every once in a while. It was easy to see the toll it had taken on him. His posture was slouched, his face less well-groomed than usual. But no one could blame him, because they could see the way he looked at you, as if you were the sun and your dimmed light turned his world dark. 

He knows the chance you can hear him is small, but he feels the urge to talk to you nonetheless. 

“I don't think I can hold this in any longer. I remember some studies that have shown people in comas do hear what's going on around them, but maybe it’s for the best that you don’t, because you would never say yes.”

He continues but he feels his voice choke up, and he runs a hand through your hair to calm himself down, his other hand still holding onto yours.

“We talked about it once, I still remember every single word you said. You came at me with all your logical reasons for why it would be a bad idea. But what you never understood is that when it comes to you, I'm not able to think rationally, because my love for you will overpower anything else.” He chuckles softly as he recalls the memory he’s about to tell you next.

“I remember when I opened up to you for the first time. I had always held things to myself, but you were so calm as I talked to you. I thought for sure I had screwed it up somehow then. Everyone always tells me now how happy you make me, and they're right. Ever since you came into my life there has not been a single moment when the thought of you did not bring me joy, even when we fought my memories of you could still somehow bring a smile to my face. 

I remember when they showed me the video, they hadn't wanted me to see it, but you know how stubborn I can be when it comes to you. I saw you, I saw the way in which they were hurting you. And I started yelling, ironically enough in that moment, you were the only one that could have calmed me down. I remember yelling at them, fighting with them not to wait any longer, that they couldn't let you wait any longer, they had to have me sedating until they came to a conclusion."

He reaches into the pocket of his trousers, taking a small ring. It was his mother's ring, he had found it a while back and had carried it with him ever since. He had thought of moments to give it to you, but every time there was one, every time he was about to ask you, something had happened, something had interrupted him. But there was no one interrupting him this time. “I have thought about asking you this every time I see you, and I can't hold it in any longer. So when you wake up, not if you wake up, because I know you will. I know you will wake up because you have to. So when you wake up, will you marry me.” A little part of him had thought you'd wake up, that you’d answer him. Even if you said no, it would still be better than what's happening right now, because he didn't care if you'd say no, if you’d say you weren't ready, because nothing could be worse than the silence that followed him. And so he slid the ring onto your finger delicately, as if you were to disappear if he wasn't careful. He put the ring on your hand because he knew that even if it wasn't today, and it wasn't tomorrow, someday you would marry him, and he wouldn't let you slip away.

At first, he thought he was imagining it, sleep deprivation and desperation playing a trick on his mind. But then he saw it again, in the beams of morning light he could see your hand moving, as if it was trying to grasp onto something, trying to pull you back into this world. It woke him up in an instant. But it was all followed so fast, the way your eyes slowly opened, squinting at the light. Before you had even awoken for a second, he moved from where he had been right beside you in order to hug you. And he was about to get lost in the thought of your moving lips, tears falling down his eyes, about to get lost in a kiss full of built-up pain and desperation when he noticed, something was wrong. Your eyebrows were knitted together and the corners of your mouth turned down just a little. He looked at your expression, your body language, something was wrong. You looked vulnerable, you looked like you wanted to protect yourself from someone.

It was only when he looked into your eyes that he truly understood something was very wrong.

Your eyes looked as if you were in pain, but it wasn't a look of any physical pain, it looked as if something was endangering you, but he couldn't understand what it was. He slowly moved so as not to startle you and asked you “Darling, what’s wrong” And at first you didn’t respond, but when he kept looking at you, expecting him to answer you, you started to speak. “Am I supposed to remember you?” 

He immediately flinched back at the statement, his shoulder sunk and his eyes dimmed. Someone told him it wasn't uncommon for brain injuries to cause short-term memory loss after a coma.

So slowly, and surely, he made it work. But it was crumbling him down every time you didn't remember the unconscious acts of affection, so foreign to you now. A quick touch on your arm as he walked towards you made you flinch slightly as if his hand had been on fire. The subtle smiles he gave you when entering a room were now met with you looking down. The way that even though you were physically here, you really weren't. 

He promised himself, he vowed to himself that he would make you remember. That no matter how long it took, he would wait for you. He would wait for you to remember, make you remember. Because he had very quickly learned that he couldn’t live without you anymore.

Part 2: Trying to Forget

[beatsboy]

10.19.24 @ 2:37

i’ve been journaling physically a lot lately, but my brain has been firing and there are too many digital moments i want to contribute to this entry, so i’m back here in my notes app.

today, or rather yesterday at this point, i released my first single for boypop, king. i keep wanting to say boypop’s single and remembering that boypop is me. i am boypop.

it came out officially at 9pm last night in la (midnight est) as m and i were eating noodles down the block from my apartment, shortly before we rushed home to get ready for the fka twigs show. the fact that i didn’t even know there was a dress code, just tried to dress as myself as possible, and was complimented for my look, fitting right in. granted, there were plenty of better outfits of me, but i was in the hotter 50%, shall we say (in the normie to hottie ratio of any show bc these bitches reaches are getting too wide). and i did not fit in with the slur of rick owens shoes meeting my eyeline on the dance floor. but i had prosthetics on, which i applied myself for the first time (fuck yes), had draped fabric over my boots to create a different silhouette, and was wearing my new favorite vintage torn knitted top with the pearl beads at the hem, and i felt confident.

even with af in my inbox questioning every creative decision i’ve made so far for the music video and, in parallel, acting the least supportive out of all of my friends in this time when they are, in fact, my best friend. trying not to let that take up too much of my headspace while i’m starting this new evolutionary phase of my life. i think it’s important to notice these things now, though, and i’m glad to have people around me who are supportive. it’s just always hard to trust support, questioning it as mere validation, while also distrusting any hesitance to cruelty, able to justify my reactions as just being sensitive.

i have talked and journaled and though that decision to death, however, and as of tonight, have locked color on the video and fixed the issue af told me was unfixable and i am content and happy and proud of what we have created, so i will move on.

last night, i saw my artistic mother, fka twigs, in person for the first time in my life, having come into myself, in a different time, with her music as my soundtrack, as a teenager. interesting, talking to freak today about high school, spending so much time institutionalized against my will, and that fka twigs’s music had so much relevance in my life at that point. i used to reblog gifs of her swinging in hair bondage and now i am about to release a music video with the same sword performer she used in her video for sad day. we danced the night away, tried to see through the ocean of phones, tried to capture what we could, made out in stalls, corners, smoked in the basement, and watched twigs, the mother of creatures, reach out to us, and just as i felt when i came out of the hole in the ground on the first day of shooting, it felt like boypop, the creature inside me, had been borne into something new. into life, into reality. we saw friends on the dance floor, ones we didn’t even know would be there, and rejoiced in a world where music is what holds us all together, what drives everything from our fashion to our work schedules, and it was eusexua.

and after we danced, the song was out in the world, and there was nothing i could do about it. all there was to do was sleep.

and today, although i woke up with a text from af that made me want to physically crawl through the phone just them if they know they are being just. like. their. mother. right now, or if it’s just a fucking coincidence, i did pivot enough to focus on the light + joy + excitement + relief that is this moment. i am proud of myself, for doing this, for making it this far, for fucking finishing the first last step. i didn’t call my mom, and i sure as fuck didn’t call my dad, but i did post like hell, send the song directly to the people who have expressed interest and are in my life.

i feel like people in music are kind of afraid of sharing their work when it’s not promo? and like direct messaging is a lot more work, but feels so much more genuine? i come from the literary world before music, so i’m very used to actively share your work with people who want to read it. it’s not often you get to the place where you can direct them where to buy your sales. when people expressed interest in my work, i would send them links to my website or articles/essays/short stories/poems that had been published of mine, or unpublished ones too, and it was never about getting views, but it was about the act of sharing your art/work with that individual person and them giving you back feedback and/or support if they liked it/fucked with it. so, yeah, i know that plenty of people are plugged in while also being very not plugged in, i know that there are people who have supported me along the way who have asked me where to listen to my music, and today, i finally had something to send them. so, i sent it to everyone in my close circles (ok maybe like 60% but i’ll keep going throughout the week), and i did write a lot of personalized messages to people who loved + supported me through this process/into the version of myself that has created this art.

the response i received, both from people i shared the song with, and from people i didn’t, was honestly overwhelming for my first single. i just like expected no one to know it was happening? at this point, i am just so shocked anyone has interest in something i’m doing that isn’t for something or someone else. so, i am forcing myself to paste the comments and notes and messages that made my heart happy today, because i want to remember this, because i need to cement celebration in my brain if i am going to survive my relationship with my art through this industry. and because reading every single one of these reminds me that the little decisions i make, the hyper fixations, the lore, the thread, is all worth it, because i know it, because it’s important to me, and sometimes, other people see it too (not pictured here)

[beels-burger-babe]

Sequel to Guard Rat??

Okie dokie. I've been putting off making this post, but I think it's time I do make it. About a year (ish) ago, I wrote a little crack fic called Guard Rat. I didn't think much of it. It was cute, yeah, a little funny, but far from my best work (at least in my opinion).

You guys evidently thought otherwise 😅

So for the past year, my notifications have been FILLED with people demanding a part two to Guard Rat. Now, I made a post shortly after the fic was first published saying it wasn't getting a sequel. That it's a stand alone. That it was a one and done kind of situation. But the notifications and the sometimes rude demands persist.

So I shall say again: As grateful as I am for all the love and support you all give Ramen/Bruno and Guard Rat, and as much as I love to see you guys excited over my work, there will NOT be a part two.

I have so many other exciting projects like Sister's Keeper, For Forever With You, the Deaf MC AU, and even more individual requests in my inbox that I've yet to get to that I cannot give energy to begin a new series that I never intended on continuing.

I love the comments and excitement! Just please don't yell or demand fics from me 😅 I'm a person. A very busy, easily distracted person. And as much as I wish I could, I don't have the time or energy to constantly pump out every single fic asked for.

That being said I have an extensive Masterlist that I highly reccomend you check out if you enjoy my writing! It has over 70 fics and you're bound to find something of interest there! It means a lot to me.

Thank you all again for the love you give Guard Rat. I assure you, Bruno would love you all just as much as you love him.

Thank you 💗💗💗 - B

[fartoomuchsarcasm]

Ok. I'm having a moment so if you don't want to hear me complain about stupid shit keep scrolling.

About 10 days ago I received an email from someone offering their services to help me become a franchise owner. This was totally unprompted and they found me through LinkedIn. To be clear: I am a structural engineer. I design buildings. Been doing it for 8 years now. I have no experience or interest in business management or ownership whatsoever. This person claims they saw my experience with my previous company (7 years of engineering, btw) and thought "Yeah, they'll be a great candidate to cold email about going into the franchise business."

And that's all fine. I get the occasional random email from people who found me on LinkedIn about various things. Whatever. I usually just ignore them cause I have other things to do with my life than answer unsolicited email. Like answer the email in my work inbox cause I get paid for that shit.

The issue is this person has now sent 2 more follow up emails, one just now at 11 o'clock at night, to make sure I didn't miss their email. Dude. Why? What about my fucking LinkedIn profile has you so bloody keen to get me to uproot my whole damn career?!? All you've done is waste time and irritate me. I'm writing this now so I don't write a snarky email to a stranger because I'm both super irritated and utterly baffled. I am not a good candidate for your business! It would be one thing if I had reached out to you, or if I was actually in business. But I literally have no idea who you are!

Is this something super dumb to be irritated about? Yes. Should I just mark their email as spam and call it a day? Probably. But right now I feel like shouting into the void for a bit.

Regular reblog content shall resume shortly.

[mirrinbelde-shitposts]

bruh how u gonna just stop doing asks😭

First of all, I wish you hadn't sent this on anon; I'd like to know who you are and why you wrote this. Nevertheless, I shall grace you with (quite) a long reply.

I started this blog mostly because I was tired of seeing astro bloggers show their 800, 900, 1000 unanswered asks. I thought to myself, "I'd never let my inbox get to that point". I felt that there was a blog needed in this community, one whose focus was to answer every astrology question. And thus this blog began.

At first, it was quite easy to manage. I am on summer break from my university, so I have plenty of free time. I'd answer one or two every day because I didn't have that many. I took a one-week vacation a couple of days in; when I left, I had about 15 to answer (tolerable, I think). When I got back, it had grown to 25. "I can still make it.", I thought.

The thing is, anon, that I get more asks that I can answer daily. This obviously means that, unless the speed of incoming asks decreased, I'd never be able to keep up; hence my decision of closing my inbox for astrology asks. I'd like you to know that this is a temporary thing; after I am done with my current asks, I shall accept more.

Now, I'll even go so far as to tell you my thinking in regards to my short-term plans for the blog.

I hit 200 followers whilst I was away. I thought that I should host a game, to show my thank you to the people who follow me. I chose to attribute 3 birth chart readings to the people who guessed my Mercury sign. You may wonder why this, of all reasons.

First, it bothered me that some other accounts accepted hundreds of game asks when they knew they'd never reply to them. Therefore, I figured a limit of responses should be set. Given the amount of work that reading a birth chart requires, I chose to do 3 only. The guessing question was meant to eliminate the time factor; if I said that I'd read the charts of the first 3 people to participate, I'd be effectively conditioning the asks received due to the timezones. This was, in my opinion, a fair way to do things.

Additionally, I wrote that I would no longer accept astrology asks. Now that we've established that it is a temporary thing, I'm sure you will concede that it was a well-founded decision on my part.

However, things did not go according to what I had anticipated. For one, the participation in my game was rather weak; so much so, that, almost two days later, I have 7 asks and 2 correct responses. Since so few people joined in, I have decided that I will read all the 7 birth charts that I received, as a thank you to the people who did attend my game (regardless of guessing right which, by the way, was Capricorn Mercury). I will officially close the game shortly and tag the people whose charts I'll be reading. I will also add that I will probably not host another astro game, at least not in the near future.

To sum it up:

game asks

astrology asks

re-opening my ask box for astrology asks

revamping the blog

A special note to the people who sent me astro asks after I said that I wouldn't answer them: do you not know how to read or did you expect that I would make an exception for you?

So, there you go, anon. I hope my answer satisfied you. I will keep my inbox open, should anyone wish to send me non-astro questions. Rest assured that I will answer your questions (unless they were sent after I started my game). My focus is and will remain to be answering everybody's astrology questions. Although, since I am only one person, and I have 74 asks to answer, I cannot give you a timeline. I will write a blog update once I finish all the asks, so, please, bear with me.

Thank you. ⬛

[ee-furoido]

Oya, Oya, what’s this?

Art by @ne-jeido​​

Jade is doing quite a poor job of hiding his amusement at this challenge that has arisen, so shortly after his birthday. “Extreme Bias Game? Miss Raven, for you to choose me as the one you must avoid any mention of... So, despite all your fervent squawking and denials, you obviously care deeply for me, yes?

“Frankly, I am hoping this will be of some entertainment, seeing you struggle to ignore me. There will be no more yelling “begone eel thot” for a while, I had gotten quite used to your pet name for me, ufufu. Although I admit I would rather not be avoided by someone whom I hold so dear, I believe that getting you to crack will be worth all this effort in the end. Fufufu...

Jade turns to address the audience that Raven has accumulated. “Now, to you, her fondest Readers. Miss Raven may attempt to ignore any and all posts you send that have to do with me (until after she loses, at which point I’m sure she’ll go haywire with her incomprehensible keysmashing). However, I know we all wish to see Miss Raven back to her normal self of “thirsting” over a one Jade Leech.” His grin widens, his sharp teeth glinting menacingly between his lips. “Therefore, I would like to offer to open my doors to a wider audience, to try to help your sabotage along. Let’s make it interesting, shall we?”

During @raven-at-the-writing-desk‘s attempt at EBG (Starting Nov 7th, 00:00 JST), my inbox will be open for messages from anyone who would wish to help me sabotage her! She will be tagged in every request that is geared towards Miss Raven (so please mention her at least once so I know it is for her EBG!). I want to flood her dashboard with as much Jade as we possibly can, fufufu.

In addition, please read my other rules if you decide to take part!

Let’s get Miss Raven back to lovemailing Jade Leech~

My askbox will now be open to all (even anon) messages to help sabotage Raven.

[brokenblueazure]

“It’s going to be fun... You’ll come to love it. It could change everything for you.”

The dark, crimson light at the man’s fingertips was very warm to the touch. A clear pattern was being carefully followed as he was pressing down exactly above where the womb of the receiving woman was located. As soon as he was done, shortly pulling away, the mark shined bright as the tattoo was engraved right on the skin, the effect would not take more than an hour to fully set off.

He maybe would be closeby after it turned on, maybe wouldn’t, his handiwork was very much done for the time being. He was able to monitor how they were doing at all times too, but that was about it, they were now left to eventually deal with the... ‘gift’.

Introducing the womb tattoo event!

...And here are some guidelines and/or rules!

...Under the read more! It’s a bit long but reading is necessary~

Easy version here, send ‘womb seal’ (specify for your multimuse) and Ragna will use his magic to draw tattoo on your muse, it could be UP to three effects at once! (Combination of one purple, two pinks at best. Otherwise only one purple and one pink or individually only one purple or only one pink.)

Make sure your submit box is available in case an ask ends up having too little space for me! (I will value if you can confirm me the prompt got to you due to Tumblr recently eating my inbox visits.)

There are clear hard no’s I believe everyone will find understandable that will never be present:

Inferiority, Violove, Suffer, Lesser, Breedgasm and especially Destruction will not be present. At all.

...Unless you tie in it in full on your ask: ‘womb seal - unlimited’ and you preferably have a more extreme blog to send the prompt in, none of those will have a chance to appear. (Only Destruction and Breedgasm will remain hard and absolute no’s due to personal preference that, again, I believe present no issue in being absent as a whole.)

What do you do after you receive your prompt? Answer it then treat it as you wish! You can turn it into a thread with Ragna and/or use it to have fun with your other mutuals whenever or for as long as your heart desires~ This is mainly to encourage fun and lewd developments. Don’t care about the imposed time limits, they don’t matter! Have fun if you like it enough whenever! It can be part of our history together of our muses by any means... It’s all perfect Literally anything goes on what you choose to do with it.

...Which leads me to my biggest point I shall equally highlight: I will only be taking and sending prompts to those who give me more than a paragraph or at least substantial enough response for my own liking. As of late, I’m tired of getting little to nothing when I put in a lot myself (in my eyes), either be prepared to give a good, solid and/or long enough response, or don’t send anything at all. I will not have future consideration for you as a future recipient as well should I ever do new inbox calls or so of this fashion and more.

Last but not least, while all the seals imply everything is M/F, you have free reign to do with them as you wish, do F/F or M/M; anything! Bend the rules (which I will probably throw in from prompt to prompt for clean confirmations)

If you read it all, thank you! That’s about it! I thank you for doing so, I await your approach~

[mailsguide]

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It can be used to make calls on the mobile number after purchasing the credits. Once you create an account with , you will have access to the next features and services. We have talked about Gmail in our earlier article.

You can view MS workplace, Excel, Powerpoint paperwork on-line without having to download MS workplace on your PC. But in terms of Hotmail.com, it has an easy User Interface. After signing into your account, you'll find create hot mail account a way to rapidly navigate to create a new e mail, or book a calendar or sign up to Skype.

We did see tips on how to create an account with in that publish and right now we are back with one other free e-mail service provider i.e. Cookies are designed to store consumer's data and particular information to shoppers and web sites. By deleting the Browser Cookies and cached information, you presumably can disable the automatic login to websites and accounts.

The Outlook net portal is created in order that it could be accessed through multiple URLs corresponding to outlook.com, hotmail.com, or reside.com. [newline]This may be very convenient as customers who've totally different e-mail handle domains don't have to get confused on which web site must be accessed to log in to your e-mail handle. 

Email for Hotmail, Outlook is an expert e mail management software, send and receive e mail quickly, simply and securely, optimize for outlook, hotmail & Microsoft mail only. Go to outlook.com sign-in page, Give your Hotmail login details and click within the Login button. In the event that your accreditations are right you'll successfully login to Hotmail account. On 31 July 2012, Beta Version of Outlook.com was introduced by Microsoft to the general public. Hotmail customers can openly improve the previous form of outlook.com.

In case you need to create an account with Hotmail.com, its fairly simple. On the following web page, it's going to ask you to enter the password. For example, I’ve scanned my passport and store it on OneDrive in order that in case I need a replica of my passport and I’m not carrying my passport, I might log in to OneDrive and obtain it.

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Today, we'll explain how one can shortly login to your Hotmail e-mail account and effectively full your Hotmail login course of. It may be frustrating if your Hotmail account gets blocked unknowingly and also you can’t log in when you want it probably the most. Sometimes email service supplier temporarily blocks your account if it caught on any suspicious actions on your account. Generally, in case your account is found involved in spamming then you definitely may get blocked. Please observe that this will not let you login Hotmail in English. This will solely enable your required language after you log into your Hotmail account.

[rainandhotchocolate]

Hi. Just want to say that I love your writing. It's great. I wanted to ask if you could please do a Sirius Black x Reader fic, where y/n is the younger sister of Lucius Malfoy, and she and Sirius have this love-hate relationship with each other, but soon realize that they both really have romantic feelings for each other, and having to deal with that and the drama that follows. If you could I would really appreciate it <3

A/N oh hi! This has been in my inbox for a while lelel here is your fic! This will be a lil mini-series, so this is just the start I promise <3 I hope you enjoy!

Tension

“Sirius!” Y/N had spotted the short, curly hair of an 11-year old boy walking in front of him, wearing a slightly ridiculous looking suit. If he had heard, heobviously didn’t want to turn around, keeping his head rigidly to the front. Y/Nignored this fact and followed him down the station and into the train.

“Sirius! It’s Y/N!” Y/N continued to call out loudly,getting more and more frustrated with Sirius’ now clear attempts to ignore her.Finally, he huffed and turned around to face her.

“Can you please just stop,” he hissed at her,still not stepping close enough to have a normal conversation. Y/N wastaken aback. She had never seen this side of him, loud and feisty, his eyesboring into hers. Y/N was used to him being quiet and polite, eyes down and avoiding hers at all costs.

“I just thought you might want to sit wit-” Y/N mumbled, feeling increasingly stupid for thinking he’d want tosit with her. She was just the person dragged along to all his familiesparties, he probably was told he had to be nice to her, or else.

“Go sit with your brother.” He turned aroundbefore he couldn’t even see her reaction, going to find a compartment. 

Y/Nstood, stunned for a minute, her face a bright red and arm hurting from luggingher backpack awkwardly on one arm. Suddenly the train jolted into life,bringing Y/N back to her senses. With a deep sigh, she continued down thehallway, looking in each compartment to see if there was room.

She passed Sirius, sitting with a boy with jet-blackhair who was chatting loudly, Sirius hanging onto his every word. Y/N quickly looked away and continued down towardsthe last compartments at the back of the train. There was only one left that was almostempty, with a sullen-looking boy sitting inside. Y/N carefully pulled back thecompartment door, trying to smile in a way that would hopefully make this boy immediatelywant her to sit next to him.

“Uh, hi! I’m Y/N, there aren’t any other emptycompartments, would you mind if I sat here?”

“Oh… um, I guess so” The boy said slowly,clearly not actually wanting any company but also not wanting to be rude. Hegestured to the seat across from him, still gripping tightly to the book he washolding. Y/N sat down, putting away her backpack and looked up at himexpectantly. He had already returned to his book, looking like he wasconcentrating incredibly deeply on the one sentence.

“Are you going to maybe tell me your name?” Y/Nsaid after a prolonged pause, tapping her fingers anxiously on the chair as sheforced herself to be friendly.

“Oh, right, sorry” He looked surprisinglydistressed for such a simple question but closed the book nonetheless and lookedup at her, “It’s Remus, Remus Lupin.”

“Lovely to meet you” Y/N beamed at him. Remus finallysmiled back in return, revealing light scratch marks across his cheek. Y/N bither lip to avoid asking about it, hearing her mothers voice in her head doNOT ask personal questions about people, it’s rude and insolent. You don’t wantto embarrass us, do you?

They continued to chat across the train ride,Y/N buying them both food to try from the trolley once lunchtime had rolled in.

“Have you ever tried any of these?” Y/N asked,looking at the mini feast she had purchased now covering the seats beside her.

“Yes of course! I’m always a sucker for the chocolatecauldrons.” Remus nodded his head, his eyes lighting up for the first time sincethey’d met, “What’s your favourite?”

“I’ve never had any of them.”

“What!?” Remus stared at her and Y/N laughedat his sudden burst of enthusiasm, “I thought you were a pureblood?”

“I am, we just aren’t allowed sweets in thehouse” Y/N shrugged, having never thought twice about it.

“Oh, you are in for a treat, try these onesfirst” He handed her a chocolate cauldron, getting started on a packed of BertieBott’s every flavour bean. Y/N opened the packed, watching the cauldron steamas the pulled it out and took a large bite out of it.

“Merlin’s beard, this is the best thing I’veever eaten!” Y/N eyes were wide as she felt herself salivating for more. Remusgave out a deep laugh and shook his head as Y/N grinned widely at him.

“I am very glad to have met you,” Y/N said,digging into more sweets sitting beside her. Out of the corner of her eye, shesaw Remus beam at her.

The train pulled slowly into Hogsmeade station,and Y/N and Remus rushed to pull on their robes and get ready to head up toHogwarts for the first time.

“You ready?” Y/N looked over at Remus, grinningwidely. He instead looked like he was about to puke.

“Uh, I guess” He gave a not very convincinggrimace and walked ahead of her out of the station. Y/N narrowed her eyes but followedhim out into the platform.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years this way!” a gruff, extremely large man called out from the right corner where the smallest and mostnervous-looking students were walking up to him, “alright I’m Hagrid, thegamekeeper ‘ere, I’m takin’ you up to the castle so follow me.”

His face broke out into a large grin softeninghis very rough features as he ushered the kids towards the castle. They reachedthe edge of a huge lake, a small pier leading off the edge where there was over100 boats sitting clustered around it.

“Everyone in a boat, max 3 to each one! Don’want any of you getting drenched before you even get to school.”

Y/N eagerly grabbed Remus’ arm and pulled him intoa boat at the front.

“Come on, come on, I don’t want to miss our firstview of it! My brother said it was amazing, I reckon he probably cried but don’ttell him I told you that cause he could hex you into next week”

“Your brother already goes here?” Remus didn’tlook at her, clearly trying to calm himself down by talking to her.

“Yeah he’s a sixth year, but I doubt I’ll see himmuch around here, his friends are not the nicest people” Y/N laughed, elbowingRemus awkwardly, cringing hard at her obvious attempts to cheer him up. He saidnothing but kept his eyes on the water watching intently for his first view ofthe castle.

And suddenly there were lights, seeminglyeverywhere. The castle came into full view, towering over them. There was agasp that came across all the boats as the first years took in the grandeur thatwas Hogwarts. Y/N could feel her heart beating wildly as she saw it up closefor the first time, her new home. Hopefully, it’s better than the one I justleft.

The boats pulled into a dock on the other sideof the lake, and Hagrid brought them all up to the entrance of the castle, bringingthem up to the huge, ornate Grand Hall doors where a stern-looking witch with emeraldgreen robes stood in the middle of them.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, I am Professor McGonagall and the start-of-term banquet will begin shortly.”

Minerva’s gaze swept across the first years as she began herspeech. It was her time to try and take the measure of the new students. Seewhich of them might join her house.

“The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while youare here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. Youwill have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitoryand spend free time in your house common room.” She narrowed her eyes as theboy Sirius had been sitting with nudged him and grinned.

“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff,Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each hasproduced outstanding wizards and witches. While you are at Hogwarts, yourtriumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose housepoints.”

“At the end of theyear, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour.I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. TheSorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of theschool. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while youare waiting.”

She paused momentarily, piercing her eyes into the worried group in front of her.

“I shall return for you when we are ready for you. Pleasewait quietly.”

There was silence amongst the students for a moment, andthen an outbreak of whispers broke out across the hallway. The loudest wasSirius and his friends, and Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, feelingresentful for how he had treated her earlier.

“I bet I can pick which house everyone is going to be in”the black-haired boy said cockily, eyeing the crowd.

“Well James, I can tell you an easy one – that’s a Malfoyover there, easy Slytherin” Sirius was obviously pointing at Y/N, and Y/N felther face flush as everyone around her stared intently at her.

“You’re a Malfoy?” Remus had turned to her, stared at her inthe exact way she hoped she wouldn’t be looked at.

“Yes, I hope you won’t judge me on that though,” She lookedat him, a little pleadingly. He frowned at her but said nothing. James andSirius were still talking behind them.

“You’re definitely a Gryffindor” James was pointing at agirl with bright red hair who gave a huge sigh to a boy standing next to her.

James was about to continue but the doors had reopened andProfessor McGonagall had stepped through.

“Follow me please” She opened the door behind her andindicated that the students should follow her. Y/N wanted to gasp again themoment she entered the Great Hall. There were more than 1,000 candles floatingabove the four tables where hundreds of students were watching the nervousgroup incredibly closely. The night sky was above them as if the entire roofwas open and Y/N couldn’t help but grab Remus’ arm.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing magic” Remus finally gave her asmile.

Sitting on a stool at the front of the hall was an old and raggedlooking pointed wizards’ hat. Professor McGonagall held out a long scroll of parchmentnext to it.

“When I call your name, you will come up and sit on thestool, and place the Sorting Hat on your head. ABBOT, SUSAN.”

Susan walked shakily up towards the stool, lookingincreasingly green. The hat fell a little down across her eyes. Y/N could seeher legs still shaking.

“HUFFLEPUFF” The Sorting Hat yelled out to the crowd, resultingin an uproar on what Y/N presumed was the Hufflepuff table.

“BLACK, SIRIUS” Some of the Slytherin’s gave out a cheer as he stepped up the steps towards the stool, avoiding their gaze. It tooka while to get out an answer, with Sirius seemingly mumbling at it every fewseconds.

“Well then, GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table roared out a cheer, along with James.Y/N glanced over at the Slytherin table, specifically at another curly-hairedboy glaring over at the Gryffindor table. Ten bucks that Sirius gets ahowler tomorrow morning.

The group of people got smaller and smaller with theblack-haired boy, James getting into Gryffindor, House of the arrogant, Y/Nhad whispered to Remus, along with the red-headed girl, Lily Evans, who seemeda little disappointed.

“MALFOY, Y/N” Y/N felt like she could puke. She walked up ontothe stool and placed the Sorting Hat onto her head, careful not to have itcover her eyes.

“Mmmmm, another Malfoy, well this is an easy one” And beforeY/N could say another word the Sorting Hat yelled out, “SLYTHERIN!”

The table screamed out cheers, with Lucius’ friends bangingloudly on the table, as she walked over towards the other first years sittingthere.

Finally, Professor McGonagall called out Remus’name, looking down at them all under her glasses, waiting for him to shakilytake the seat and placed the sorting hat on him. It took almost the longest thananyone else, clearly undecided on where to place him. After over 5 minutes and softwhispering beginning to erupt throughout the Great Hall.

Finally, the Sorting Hat grinned and looked outat the crowd.

“Slytherin!”

Taglist: @averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm   @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana @avengersassemblee @maraudersandco @sly-vixen-up2nogood @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad @evyiione @minerva26love  @aikeia@gollyderek @greatwombatblaze

[xdepthsofwinterx]

(2/2) Also, was thinking: she left before they go to the Underdark, but the Valsharess probably sent some drows after her, tracking her and trying to kill her. What did she do at that time? (next part of the ask XD)

{{Alright first off, apologies @waterdeephero​! This ask has sat in my inbox for literal years! I have been waiting for the perfect inspiration to strike for this particular part of Dhana’s story-line. It is one of my favourite parts, largely because it is where Dhana meets my lovely @aquiversfull​ Kymiel. So finally, here it is! Forgive the length, I got carried away with battle scenes again x’D}}

Waterdeep, Hordes of the Underdark, Chapter 1-2: Canon!Verse

Thwack!

Blood ran icily cold, what remained of the bolt splinteringin her periphery. The emerald sheen wasn’t lost on her. Poison. Heart thunderingagainst her ribcage, Dhana darted down another alleyway. Visibility was growingincreasingly poor as near vertical sheets of rain hammered a crescendo againstthe cobbles. Squinting revealed little of Waterdeep’s winding streets, thesorceress barely making out the looming outlines of buildings. Had she time torecast infravision, she would have, but her assailants where incessant.

Another volley whistled through the air, ripping through thetop of her ear. Dhana drew blood from clamping down on her lip, smoulderingpain erupting from the wound.

Fucking drow!

Ducking beneath washing lines that extended across her path,the woman used the sudden cover to her advantage. More complex incantationswere out of the equation, but evocation came as naturally as breathing.

Hands outstretched, fingertips dragging along brick, Dhanafocused on the pain. The way water seeped into the ragged flesh, the shreddedcartilage flapping lamely in her haste. Ice crackled to life, feeding off theweather and her adrenaline. It shot out like spiderwebs, spikes erupting frombrick at an alarming rate. A startled cry pulled out a cruel smirk.

One down. Gods know how many more to go.

Something flashed up ahead, the tell-tale sizzling of the arcane. Dark brows furrowed a moment too late, therealisation pooling horror in her gut.

Spider webs.

She felt the fibrous grip snag hold of her boots, rippingone from her foot. The momentum sent her sprawling unceremoniously in a sticky,sodden heap. Muscles and bones shrieked in protest, the skin upon her forearmsshredded to ribbons from the friction. Dhana coughed violently, head ringing asshe tried desperately to get to her feet.

‘Zexen'uma harl, rivvil.’ *

She froze, head jerking upwards at the commanding tone. Likeice it slithered over her skin, enticing a rash of goose bumps to follow. Desperateto see through the watery veil, she struggled to raise her hand. A shadow leaptoverhead, a burst of silvery light and a shattering of glass had her seeing stars.

Like a fly upon a spider’s web, she could feel their eyesupon her. Whom ever it was moved closer.

“Phu’ dos zhaunus ol zhah ilta?**” an uttered whisper, somehowaudible above the rain, called from above. Their leader – or so she surmised – stoodbefore her now. Without a light she could make out little features, but the lethalpair of short-swords spoke volumes.

‘Assassins. Like the one in the Yawning Portal.’ Shegrimaced as the figure crouched down at her level, the overwhelming scent ofchemicals upon their person. A hand captured her chin, wrenching it up at apainful angle. She was twisted this way and that, the drow inspecting her earwith a growl.

“Foolish male, have you no eyes!? This is your pathetichandiwork is it not?”

With a jerk, Dhana was released. Recoiling, she pressed herhands more firmly into the ground and forced herself up.  This time her captors allowed her to kneel,but the red hued blade at her exposed throat meant she did little else.

“If you are so intent on killing me, hurry it up. I’ve freezingmy tits off out here!”

It wasn’t a lie. Having fled the inn with next to nopossessions, desperate to avoid questioning glances, the mage wore naught buther leather and fur padded armour. Even her staff was gone.

Sliding up her gullet, the short-sword rested just under herchin. She could feel the trickle of blood forming from the nick.

“Dos phuul natha bran uss whol zhaunus***,” followed by avelvety chuckle, “I will enjoy disembowelling you like the dog you are.”

N-Now hang on, disembowelling?! No one mentioned-

Phwet.

Dhana flinched as something thick and viscous splatteredacross her face. As she sat there blinking furiously through whatever thiswas, she heard a distinctive sound.

The twang of a bowstring. And whoever it was had stirredup one hell of a hornet’s nest. Shrieking drow echoed upon the roof tops, thesounds of spells zipping through the air and breaking roof shingles. Dhana feltthe blade fall, shortly followed by a body. The sorceress wasted little time inscrubbing at her eyes. Finally her vision cleared, sepia eyes swivelling about.

There, sticking out of the hood of her fallen captor,was a blue and white tipped arrow. From this distance Dhana could tell it was aclear headshot, right through the eye socket. She whistled, impressed.

That was until a dagger sliced through the air before hernose.

‘Yes Dhana, battlefield, we are in a godforsaken battlefieldyou twat!!’

Snatching up the blade she set about cutting herself free,the webs falling away. Whomever had cast it must have met an untimely end, asthe silk vanished. Dhana stumbled to her feet, willing her magic to harden uponthe surface of her skin and armour. Pieces of rock fell away as it responded, notwithout sending a dizzying spell of vertigo her way.

I…I need to rest, badly.

Sadly it seemed Lady Tymora was ignoring her again today, asan irate roar sounded from behind her. Bewildered, Dhana instinctively rolledaway, just in time to miss the great sword that spliced the space she had onceoccupied. A hulking, silver haired beauty with a none to friendly exteriorgreeted her.

Balanced upon the balls of her feet, Dhana acted quickly. Willingwith all her strength, she coaxed the water about the drow’s feet to burst tolife. It wound up his legs tightening and crackling with incessant cold. Hehissed, barking some very uncouth words in his mother language, managing tolift his blade with increasing difficulty. Filthy, bloodied and utterly fed upherself, Dhana gave him a dark grin.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“Zu'tour ol elg'care-eugh!!!” ****

You would have thought that he’d have figured it out. After all,the metre long icicles stained red with drow blood was a massive give away.Dhana didn’t give him the satisfaction of answer.

She outstretched both hands. One hand clenched with violentintent, the other flipped a universal sign that shall not be repeated here. Thegreat sword clattered loudly upon cobblestone, her mouthy friend now the centreof a grotesque, ice sculpture.

Slumping against the wall, Dhana leaned her head back againstthe brickwork. Rain bounced off her feverish skin, refreshing despite the throbbingear. Morbidly curious as to the damage Dhana lifted a tentative finger.

“I would strongly advise against doing that.”

An involuntary spasm shook her entire body, the sorceressyelping in surprise. Leathers creaked, drawing her attention to the suddenvoice.

How he had managed to appear at her side so silently was beyondher. Well, besides the rain and the previous battle of course.

An elf knelt mere feet away, ears dripping, face clarteredin a similar fashion to her own. A heavy emerald cloak adorned his shoulders,swept across studded leather armour, held in place by a brass broach. Hisoutline blurred ever so slightly at the edges, causing her nausea to worsen. Hesmiled despite their situation, dimples appearing in his bronzy complexion. Evidently,he held this expression often.

“Please do not be alarmed, I have no interest in hurtingyou.”

She gave him a sceptical look, “Y-You sure about that?”

Those unusual ochre eyes gleamed with unspoken humour.Instead of answering he pulled back his cloak to reveal…a quiver full of blueand white tipped arrows. Dhana gawked.

“Y-You’ve got one hell of an aim!” Her elven saviour finallychuckled at this, the timbre pleasant upon her frayed nerves.

“Luckily for you, yes. Although, you are quite anintimidating fighter yourself.”

He gestured warily to the glistening, impaled drow. Sheshould have thought twice about looking, as it seemed her stomach had reachedits limit. Lurching away from her newfound companion, Dhana emptied thecontents of her gut onto the cobblestone. She could barely breathe from theconvulsions, feeling the bile burn her nostrils as well as her throat.

Movement from behind alerted her to the nearing presence. Callousedfingers gently lifted her hair, gathering it at the base of her neck. Had shethe strength Dhana would have slapped him aside, alas she could not. Weak, emotionallyexhausted the mage could do little but retch until nothing remained.

Minutes passed, odd gags threatening here and there. Oncesatisfied, the elf retreated, squatting before her with a flask.

“Drink this, please.” She squinted through watery, bloodshoteyes. He sighed patiently, “It is not poison, look.”

He sipped the contents, swallowing to prove his point.Reluctantly the sorceress nodded, taking the leather-bound container, and downingas much as she could muster.

“I have neutralised the remainder of your attackers. I suggestwe move from this location now, as it is likely another party will follow intheir footsteps.”

Dhana almost choked. Coughing, she handed back his water skin.

“What is this we?” He blinked at her as if it wereobvious. She snorted, “I do not need babysitting, master elf.”

Securing the hip flask upon his belt, the elf stood up. Headjusted his bow and quiver, before glancing back down at her.

“I prefer Kymiel if you don’t mind. That nickname is…painfullyformal,” not waiting for her to respond he bent down and secured his armabout her waist. Eyes widened rapidly, the mage squawking indignantly. Helifted her with surprising strength and ease, positioning her arm behind his head.She stumbled a bit, coming to lean into his gait. Dhana glowered.

“And you are?”

“Pissed off.”

“Well, Miss Pissed Off, you are hardly in any fit state tocontinue unaided.”

She couldn’t exactly argue with that, given the way her headspun from overexertion. Growling, she let her head flop forward whilst she centredherself. A pang of guilt ran through her.

“It’s Dhana, my name that is.”

She could feel him perk up as he began leading them away.

“Pity, I rather liked your prior name.”

“Ugh…shut up!”

Tonight was going to be longest night she had endured inmany a year.-Drow Translations- Taken from here and here.

* - “Stay down, human.”** - “Are you sure it is her?”*** - “You sure are a loud one.”**** - “Shut it, bitch!”

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[cupcakemolotov]

6/? Wow the Sagredos have successfully married into money for like three centuries and not one eep of them being broke has leaked. Truly impressive. Man, I just want like an outside POV, an Herald forum, something about House Baylor. Because how does this look from the outside? One sister married into House Rogan, House Baylor looks like a vassal House but isn't officially. And the new Head of House Baylor got Alessandro Sagredo to leave his blue blood family.

I mean, the Sagredos are fairly scary.

But yes, I find this bit of information to be interesting. You gotta wonder what blackmail is going on behind the scenes. Alessandro obviousy scared the pants off the women he was previously engaged to because he shut the one down hard at the opera. very hard. and she shut up.

7/? Lol tumblr has decided I’ve spammed your inbox with too many asks so I’ll have to continue later. Hopefully you’re received them all. I haven’t even started waxing lyrical about how much I love Catalina. Catalina and Elara are def my fav IA heroines. (I’m so sad that iron covenant #2 is probably years away, although I completely understand why no one would want to write a dark book in 2020).

Catalina and Elara are a great deal of fun. Though I absolute adore the Nevada books. This family is insane, and I hope we keep getting books! (And god, give me Hugh. But yeah. Illona an Gordon have had a particularly rough few years personally, and Hugh is just not an easy book. I can wait.)

8/? i think that's what number I'm up to. I just love Catalina so much. It's just so refreshing to have an Urban Fantasy lead who isn't a gut-reactionary archetype (which don't get me wrong, I also enjoy). I enjoy her methodical planning. I really like her and Nevada's chat. I agree with your comment to the other anon, I think it answered some of the things that fell flat in SF, enough so that it felt planned and plotted.

I honestly think Sapphire Flames is a much better book now that I have Emerald Blaze. I went back and re-read it and it bothered me way less now that I have more information to work with. Which. Is always a good sign about a book in general and how a series is going I think. Its baby-catalina and baby-alessandro and then not!

9/9 Now that I've completely vomited all my EB initial feelings at you... in a hopefully somewhat coherent manner... how did you find EB? What did you love/hate? What do you want to see in Book 6? What gem do you think will be used for Book 6's title? It looks like popular opinion is Ruby in the IA FB group but I kinda want to see them stick to blue/greens/purples) coloured gems. Did you manage to catch any of the Zoom panels with IA? Have a wonderful day! And thank you so much for listening!!!

Over all, I really enjoyed Catalina and Alessandro in his book. I thought they did a good job of working in a bunch of big plot points and smoothing out threads from the previous one that bothered me. As I have said, they clearly went into this book with an understanding of what fell a little flat and made a point to fix it. I so greatly appreciate that about them.

I think in general though, Alessandro was good in this book but also a little off for me. I liked that he answered here questions, I like that he threatened Victoria, I liked that he backed Catalina up. But I felt we could have gotten a little more from in places that would have made things just a little more seamless. They didn’t do a bad job with him, but there was a lot of reflection that happened elsewhere that we got told about. I can’t even tell you where it could have been worked it, it just felt a tiny bit off point. Not a lot, just a little. My favorite scene for them in the book was in the van when he was patching her up! That was a delight. And the scene on the balcony cleared up a lot of things, but I feel like Alessandro in the third will need to grow a bit more. Or to show us the ways he has grown. He needs something to make him just a little more of a real character, though right now I am still struggling to find the words to explain what I even mean with that.

I really do enjoy Catalina. I like how they have done a good job of showing the similarities between the sisters and all their differences. Shes a lot of run while not being Nevada, and I appreciate that. Being the middle child and suddenly the boss I think is a difficult thing for someone and the family dynamics are spot on. I am really looking forward to seeing how she chooses to deal with her problems in the future.

I fucking love Leon. Give me his book. Please.

Also. WHERE IS MY MOMMA BAYLOR AND HEART ROMANCE? WHERE? *GRABBY  HANDS* GIVE IT TO ME.

Grandmother Tremaine is my favorite not-bad guy in this series. And I maintain my suspicions about Linus, and who he is but they haven’t really give us many bread crumbs about who Ceaser is either. And I want to punch Xavier in the face and cannot wait until Catalina takes his smug ass down. The dick.

I dunno, there has been a lot of thought about this and we shall see what happens! I probably would have to read it again to give you more thoughts (which I will be doing probably shortly!) But Illona and Gordon always manages to surprise me with their plot twists, and I do so enjoy that about them.

10/10. Oh wait- I completely forgot to mention- can't wait to see what powers Catalina's dark wings develop. Also super interesting that both Catalina and Alessandro have speedy healing talents (not connected, but attributable to both their respective powers). I wonder if Catalina's green/gold wings have been her passive field this whole time. The making people love her part. Using her wings/song to control/guide people's memories is probably active field?

I think Catalina’s power are going to be very interesting because she is not in a magical  bubble. She also has her other family magic and there is no telling what she got from Tremaine. I think your guess is very solid, but I don’t think her love me bits are entirely passive. But I do think the black wings are potentially a House Secret and something that is going to be very unexpected. But the opposite side of love is fear, right? So yeah. its going to be So Interesting.

[starrystarrybabe]

Oh, How the Mighty Fall [In Love] CHAPTER FOUR (OC x Ben Hardy)

CHAPTER ONE, CHAPTER TWO, CHAPTER THREE

Lily Anne Mercury is brought in to help with Bohemian Rhapsody at the request of her Uncle Bri and Uncle Rog, and along the way, she might meet someone to share her life with. The only problem with this is that while their friends and the world can see that they’re perfect for each other, they’re going to be fully blind to this for a while.

DISCLAIMER: I’m fully aware that it would’ve been physically impossible for Jim and Freddie to have a child even with this method during the time they were alive, but the idea of Freddie as a dad and the idea of how his child would turn out to be was just too sweet for me to not write. 

Hello, everyone! Welcome to the fourth installment of Oh, How the Mighty Fall! It’s been amazing writing this, and it’s the first slow burn I’ve ever written, so it is quite the exercise in patience to not give away all the good stuff right away. @borhap-socials has been kind enough to make fake instagram posts for the first two chapters of this piece, and if you would like to see them, I’m going to keep asking her to make them for the chapters. if you would like to make some of your own, my inbox is always open to content relating to this fic! send asks about it if you’d like, and i will answer them. i love when y’all let me know how much you like this fic, and it warms my heart to see the warm reception it is getting. i have so much more planned for this fic, so buckle up, because this will be one long ride.

-- casey

TRIGGERS: none. enjoy!

“Cut!” the director yells, and the scene breaks. “Great job, guys. That was the last take we needed for today, so go to hair and makeup to get out of your costumes. Have a great weekend.”

The boys say goodbye to the director before leaving set and going to the hair and makeup trailer. They sit down and let the crew take care of them, helping them out of their wigs and makeup.

Gwil looks down as he sees a text come in, and upon reading it, his face falls. Rami looks over at him, concerned at the reaction.

“What is it, Gwil?” Rami asks, turning to face his friend. “You look upset. Did something bad happen?”

Joe turns to his friends and Ben takes out his headphones, leaning over to see what’s going on.

Gwil clears his throat, shaking his head. “It’s my girlfriend-- well, ex-girlfriend now, I guess. She just broke up with me over text.”

Rami places a hand on Gwil’s shoulder, squeezing it. “I’m sorry, Gwil, that’s absolutely horrible.”

Ben nods. “Yeah. The fact that it’s over text is even worse. I’m so sorry, mate.”

Joe looks over at Gwil and frowns. “How long were you two together, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Gwil looks to Joe as his wig is removed and sighs. “Almost a year. I didn’t expect the relationship to last filming, and I’m not mad about her breaking things off because my schedule is too hectic for me to give a proper amount of attention to her, but…” he pauses, shaking his head in confusion. “Isn’t it sort of juvenile to end the relationship through a text message?”

Joe scoffs, nodding. “Of course it is! You don’t just end a long-ish term relationship like that! You should at least call them to let them know.”

Rami and Ben nod, and the cast falls into silence, contemplating what to do to make this situation even a little bit better.

Gwil speaks up after about ten minutes. “I’m going to call her later and wish her good luck on her new job, and a good life. She deserves it.”

Rami smiles at Gwil and playfully punches his arm. “You’ll find someone else, Gwil. You’re a catch!”

Gwil smiles and laughs weakly, looking over at Rami. “You’re too nice, Rami. You don’t have to do this to try and make me feel better, but I appreciate the intentions behind your actions.”

Rami shakes his head, scoffing. “Are you kidding me? I’m not doing this just to make you feel better. It’s true!”

Joe grins, and joins in. “You’re handsome, talented, smart, and caring. That’s a package deal if you ask me.”

Gwil is turning red, laughing. “You’re both being too kind. Really, it’s thoughtful of you to try and make me feel better this way, but I can’t possibly be as good as you say I am.”

Ben shakes his head, smiling. “I disagree, mate. A girl just broke up with you over text and you still decided to call her and wish her good luck. Only a genuinely good person will do that even though they got hurt.”

Gwil smiles and laughs quietly to himself, shaking his head. “You’re all too good to me.”

Rami grins and stands up from his chair, embracing Gwil. “We love you and you deserve it, that’s why.”

Gwil smiles, patting Rami’s arm affectionately. “I appreciate it, Rami.”

Joe comes around, joining the hug with a grin. “We appreciate you, Gwil.”

Ben grins and joins the group hug. “You’re the best, mate.”

--

That night, Lily Anne is running around the house, making sure that the bedrooms are clean for her guests, the rooms downstairs are clean and tidy, and the Indian food she’s making is enough for all the people coming over. She’s taking out a serving dish when she hears Ezichi come through the back door.

“Is that Jer’s famous curry I smell?” she asks, coming into the kitchen.

“Yes! Don’t touch it or I’ll kill you!” Lily Anne calls out from the next room over, getting the serving dish.

“I won’t, I swear! Calm down, Lily.”

Lily Anne walks into the room and sees Ezichi with her hands in the air in surrender, and she places the dish on the kitchen island.

Ezichi walks over to her friend and wipes some sauce off her face with her thumb and spit, and the girl wrinkles her nose and swats the taller woman’s hand away.

“You know that I hate when you do that, Ezichi! You’re not my mum,” Lily Anne complains, walking over and turning off the stove.

“You’re getting stressed, Lily. I’m trying to help,” Ezichi says, sighing tiredly. “What can I do?”

Lily Anne transfers the curry to the dish and puts the pot down, huffing tiredly. “Did you bring the salad?”

Ezichi nods, pointing to a Tupperware she has on the same kitchen island as the one the curry is on. “It’s right next to the curry.”

Lily Anne nods and begins to leave the room before Ezichi holds her arm, stopping her. The smaller woman looks up at her friend, clearly stressed out.

“Let me get the bowl for the salad. Do you want me to use the wooden one or the ceramic one?” she asks, calming her friend down.

Lily Anne sighs and looks down, closing her eyes. “Ceramic is bigger. I think it’s on--”

“The top shelf to the left. I know. I’ll get it,” Ezichi responds, moving to get the task done.

Lily Anne sits at the kitchen island, laying her head on the cool marble and closing her eyes. Ezichi comes into the room and begins transferring the salad, looking down at her friend.

“When did you last sleep?”

“...yesterday.”

Ezichi takes in a sharp breath of annoyance. “When did you last smoke?”

Lily Anne doesn’t bother to lift her head, huffing and slumping further onto the island. “...today.”

Ezichi shakes her head and groans, putting down the salad. “You were doing so well, Lily! You went for two weeks without smoking! I thought you were almost committed to quitting!”

Lily Anne lifts her head, resting her chin on the table. She looks like a hurt puppy.

“I tried. It was too hard,” she explains, looking miserably at her friend, who furiously tosses a salad.

“The nicotine patches didn’t work?” Ezichi asks.

Lily Anne shakes her head. “Nope. Not at all. I went through a whole box and it did nothing.”

Ezichi sighs, putting the salad aside after tossing it. “You go take a nap. You need it. I’ll finish preparations, alright?”

Lily Anne is going to protest, but Ezichi gives her a hard look that says ‘That was an order, not a suggestion,’ and she groans, shuffling out of the kitchen.

“Wake me up at least an hour before the cast gets here,” Lily Anne calls out.

“Sure thing! Just get some sleep now, alright?” Ezichi responds.

She hears Lily Anne muttering affirmatively as she plods up the staircase, and begins to put the food out in the dining room before starting to boil water for pasta.

--

Bronwyn and Madigan get to the house shortly afterward and help Ezichi cook the fish, listening to music as they work. Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones has just come on, and the bassist lights up with a horrible idea.

“Should I try the voice crack in this song?” Bronwyn asks, grinning like an idiot.

Madigan glares at her wife, shaking her head. “How many times have I told you that you can’t replicate the voice crack, B?”

Bronwyn grins at her wife toothily. “I can’t believe you just challenged me to attempt that voice crack.” She leans in closer to the shorter woman, smirking. “If I hurt my voice, you’ll have to listen to more of my morning voice, and you’d hate that,” she says, winking.

Madigan loves her wife’s morning voice. It’s low, and gravely, and just… so indescribably hot that she can’t help but blush. The tall Welsh woman knows exactly what she’s doing to her.

Madigan presses her lips into a thin line, closing her eyes. “I can think of no worse punishment.”

Bronwyn kisses her wife’s cheek, smirking. “Challenge accepted, love.”

Ezichi lets out a noise of disgust at the scene, and Bronwyn feigns shock.

“I never knew you hated the gays, Zichi!” she exclaims, putting a hand on her chest.

Madigan snorts and hugs her wife’s midsection, cuddling into her dramatically. “I’m so offended. This is homophobia at its finest. Protect me from the hate, my wife.”

Bronwyn embraces her wife and hoists her up so that her thighs are wrapped around her waist. “We shall fight the hatred of the cursed straight one with our love, my darling. Kiss me and join the revolution.”

The pair kisses, laughing through it.

Ezichi rolls her eyes. “You’re both insufferable lesbians.”

--

When the cast arrives, Lily Anne greets everyone with a hug, and gasps when she sees Ben walk inside with a dog carrier. She grins and walks over, hands on her cheeks.

“Is this the famous Frankie I’ve heard so much about?” she asks, smiling.

He nods, grinning. “I figured it was about time you met her. She’s very excited to be in a new environment.”

She smiles and helps him open the carrier, grinning when the dog begins licking her furiously. She lifts up the adorable girl and holds her against her chest, laughing.

“Hello, Frankie! Hello, sweet girl! You’re so cute, my darling!” Lily Anne coos, smiling. “Your daddy should’ve brought you here sooner, lovie.” She turns to look accusingly at Ben, and Frankie does the same.

Ben opens his mouth, becoming defensive. “Don’t look at me like that! I didn’t know if she’d get along with Reykja and I didn’t want her to ruin anything in your house!”

Lily Anne looks at Frankie and scratches behind her floppy ears. “Does that sound weak to you too, baby girl?” The dog barks and licks her, and she nods. “I’m glad we agree.”

Ben laughs, and Reykja runs into the room just as Frankie is put down. The dogs begin to sniff each other before running off to play with a squeaky toy Lily Anne throws.

“I’ve never seen her look so mad at me,” Ben says, smiling.

Lily Anne smiles, shrugging. “I was kidding, but she seemed to take me very seriously.”

The pair walk into the living room, where the band and the cast is catching up. Joe and Lucy are laughing with Bronwyn and Madigan over something, but Gwil and Ezichi sit together in a corner, looking much more somber.

Gwil looks pretty sad for some reason, and this causes Lily to frown. She looks up at Ben.

“Gwil looks sad. Did something happen to him?” she asks.

Ben looks down and frowns, nodding. “His girlfriend broke up with him today.”

Lily Anne pouts, putting a hand on her chest. “Oh, no! How’s he doing?”

Ben sighs, looking at Gwil. “He’s sad, but he saw it coming. It wasn’t a surprise, and he gets why it happened. He just didn’t expect it to happen over text.”

Lily gasps, and her eyes widen. “Over text? They were together for almost a year! That’s bollocks!”

Ben nods furiously, agreeing with her. “That’s what I said! But he still called her and wished her good luck on her new job and a nice life despite it all.”

She shakes her head. “He was too good for her. He deserves the best, and we all know it.”

Ben looks over at Ezichi, who squeezes Gwil’s hand. Lily Anne notices this and raises her brow with a grin, looking up at Ben.

“I give it at least a week after the tour ends before they get together,” Lily says.

Ben grins back at her. “Who’ll make the first move?”

Lily purses her lips in thought. “Hmm… I’m not sure. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

--

Ezichi says hi to Ben, Joe, Rami, and Lucy, but frowns when she sees Gwil looking down. She walks over and puts a hand on his arm, looking up at him. He looks down at her and smiles.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you, Zichi,” he apologizes, giving her a hug.

She reciprocates and frowns when she pulls away. “It’s alright. You look pretty down. Is there something wrong, Gwil?”

Gwil nods, looking away from her. “My girlfriend broke up with me.”

Ezichi hates that her first thought is, ‘Now’s my chance!’. She feels so bad for him, but also, will totally seize the opportunity to date him once the time is right.

“I’m so sorry, Gwil! That’s horrible. Can I help you out somehow?” she asks, putting a hand on her chest.

He smiles sadly at her. “Your company is enough, Ezichi. I’ll be fine.”

She nods, smiling up at him. “Want to sit in the corner and just talk?”

He pauses, considering, and nods. The pair sits down at the table in the corner of the room, and Ezichi squeezes his hand. He squeezes hers back, and the warmth that radiates from his eyes toward her make her heart melt.

“You know that I’m here for you, right?” she asks.

Gwil nods, smiling. “Of course. You’re a great person. You’ll always be there for your friends.”

Friends. That hurts just a little bit, but Ezichi is patient. She’ll wait until Gwil is ready to be more than just her friend.

She shrugs. “If you’re not there for your friends, you end up feeling guilty when they suffer alone.”

A pang of residual guilt hits her, and she looks down, sighing. She blinks away tears, squeezing her eyes shut.

Gwil looks at her and frowns. “I’m guessing you know from experience.”

She presses her lips together and nods. “Can we move to another room to discuss this?”

He nods, and together they go to the next room down the hall, where a collection of artwork is displayed. They sit on the couch in front of the fireplace and Ezichi wipes her eyes.

Gwil holds her hand, and she looks down. “I-I just… even though it’s been years, I’ve always felt bad that I wasn’t there for Lily Anne when she overdosed the first. She still tells me not to feel bad, but seeing her in a hospital bed--” she gets choked up. “--with an IV in her arm, and looking like…” She can’t finish her sentence, and Gwil wraps an arm around her as she cries.

“Some things you just can’t forget,” he says gently, rubbing her back.

She nods, sniffling. “From that day on, I swore that I would never abandon her or anyone else ever again.” She lets out a small laugh. “I know that this is a breakup and not an overdose, but still, it just…”

Gwil smiles at her. “I get it. When Lily told us what she’d gone through, I couldn’t help but think about how bad it must’ve been to watch her suffer and struggle like that. Especially since you all care so much about her. You saw me struggling, and needed to help. I understand why, and I admire you for your dedication to people you care about.”

Ezichi blushes and looks down. “That has to be one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me. That came off the top of your head?”

Gwil laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, it did.”

Ezichi looks up at the man sitting next to her in a comfortable silence. He looks back at her fondly, and she could swear that she feels them getting closer and closer…

They’re cut off by Bronwyn knocking on the doorway and asking if they’d like to take shots before eating dinner.

The pair stands up and nods, and after Bronwyn leaves, Ezichi smiles at Gwil.

“Let me know if you need anything at all.”

--

That night, Lily Anne laughs her ass off. She had bought Guitar Hero, and of course, the boys chose to do Bohemian Rhapsody. Since they were already drunk by the time they played, it was a mess.

Rami is stumbling over the lyrics, and at one point the drumming is so intense that one of the drum pads fall off the stand, causing Ben to stare down at his hands in horror. This causes Joe to stumble over the bass part and curl up on the floor, and Gwil is the last one to tap out, falling onto the couch as Rami hugs him.

Lucy wipes away tears and helps Joe off the floor, giggling. Room 301 is tired from laughing so hard. When they perform it isn’t much better, and Madi causes two drum pads to fall off. Bronwyn smiles and puts down her bass to hug her wife, and Ezichi begins doing the number from the ground. Lily Anne is the only sober one and looks affectionately at her drunken bandmates, helping them up afterward.

--

Bronwyn and Madigan fall asleep in the next room over shortly afterward and Lily Anne covers them with blankets, tucking them in. Soon after that, Rami, Lucy, and Joe decide to go to bed, and the remaining friends watch shitty soap operas on the T.V. until Gwil and Ezichi go off to bed.

Lily Anne sighs and leans back on the couch, looking dejected. Ben notices and sits up, frowning.

“What’s going on, Lil?” he asks.

She waves dismissively, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”

Ben narrows his eyes and presses his lips together, unconvinced. He has seen her tired before, and she ended up falling asleep in his trailer. But before she passed out, she wasn’t this distraught looking. No, this has to be something more.

With a huff, she meets his eyes and groans. “Fine, it’s not nothing. I’ll tell you.” She rubs her tired eyes, shaking her head. “I had tried to quit smoking two weeks ago, but today I broke. I’m just really frustrated because I was doing so well, but I fucked up and gave in to the temptation.”

Ben nods, pursing his lips. He knows the feeling she’s talking about. “How many times have you tried to quit?”

She groans. “More than I can count. I always fail, no matter what I try.”

He looks over at her, sighing. “It’s really hard. I’ve tried to quit at least 10 times, but it never works. I think it’s because I don’t have anyone to hold me accountable.”

She considers his statement, biting her lip. “I’ve never considered that as a reason why I couldn’t quit, but now that you say it… maybe that’s why. Everything is easier with multiple people involved. That’s why bands exist.”

He stays quiet for a moment, considering a possible solution to their problem. He comes up with an idea and nods, taking out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.

“Let’s test that out, then,” he says, standing up.

Lily Anne looks up at him from the couch. “Huh?”

He shrugs. “Take out your pack of cigarettes. If we try to quit together, then maybe it will stick. We’ll hold each other accountable.”

She nods, slowly pulling out her pack of Marlboros and standing up. “If I break it, I’ll feel bad that I betrayed your trust.”

“Which is why you won’t break it,” he says, bringing over a garbage can from the corner.

He places it in between them and tosses his pack of cigarettes into the can before looking to Lily Anne to do the same. She does, and in that moment, her Papa’s urn goes flying across the room.

“I’ll knock over your Papa’s ashes when we find the man for you.”

She goes wide-eyed and watches as the glass vial of the last ashes lands in an armchair. The porcelain shards cover the floor, and she looks up at Ben, in shock.

Oh god.

He’s absolutely perfect.

She loves this man.

“...Lily? Lily!” Ben shakes her shoulders, kneeling down to be at eye level with her crouched form.

She blinks, looking at him. “Huh? I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was just…”

‘...realizing how hard I’ve fallen for you.’

He nods. “In shock.”

‘Sure. Let’s go with that.’

She nods, shaking. “Yeah. I didn’t expect that to happen.”

He nods and squeezes her shoulders. “I’m going to get some sage, alright? If you feel stable enough, you should pick up the vial of the ashes and put it on the shelf, okay?”

She nods, and as he leaves, she sits on the couch, her hands over her mouth. She can feel the picture of Jim and Freddie looking at her, and shakes her head.

“Oh my god,” she mutters, putting her head in her hands.

Ben comes in and sits next to her, putting one hand on her shoulder. “Hey, are you alright?”

She looks over at him, and her eyes light up in a way he’s never seen before. She’s completely open, vulnerable, and looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“I’ll be okay,” she says, smiling. “I’m just a little shaken up by that.”

He nods, smiling back at her. “Good. I’ll handle the shards, but I’d really rather you take the ashes.” He laughs nervously. “I’m not sure I want to touch those.”

She nods, squeezing his hand. “I understand. Thank you for cleaning up. I’ll join you, I just need a minute.”

He nods and stands up to get the broom.

She looks at him as he leaves with the same exact look as before, sighing.

--

Lily Anne scribbles in her moleskin notebook, making up lyrics for a new song. The movement of the tour bus becomes disruptive to her sleep at times, so instead of trying to doze off, she makes the most of the time and writes songs about a certain blonde she’s been missing for months.

The band has been traveling for two months now, and there’s a month left on their tour. Lily wants nothing more than to go home and be with her BoRhap family, but she has money to make and fans to please.

Lily Anne contacts Ben every night, checking in to see that they’re both sticking to their commitment to not smoke. So far, they’re going strong. The band has a whiteboard up that they fill in every night with the number of days Lily Anne has been smoke-free. Ezichi smiles, watching the numbers grow with a warm heart.

Lily Anne is quietly strumming chords on her acoustic guitar and humming the melody to her song, and she writes down the chords, brainstorming the sound of the song in her head. It is all coming together, and her song is basically just her professing her love for Ben. It’s not good how badly she’s pining, but she can’t say that Ezichi is doing much better with her feelings for Gwil.

The two of them have discussed that they’ve both fallen head over heels in love with these two men and expressed their emotions to Bron and Madi, who watch their friends yearn over the two men. They know that eventually, it will all come to fruition, but for now, they must wait.

Ezichi opens up Lily’s bedroom door, and walks inside in her pajamas, closing the door quietly behind her. She walks over to the bed, sitting next to her friend.

“What’s going on, Zichi?” Lily Anne asks, putting down the notebook and the guitar.

Ezichi looks tiredly ahead of her, leaning back on the bed and reclining against the mountain of pillows Lily has around her. “I hate love.”

“Too busy thinking about Gwil to sleep?” she asks, looking down at her friend.

Ezichi nods, closing her eyes. “I’ve never fallen so fast or so hard for anyone ever, Lily. You know that.”

Lily nods, leaning back next to Ezichi. “I know. But it’s one more month, and then you can see him again.”

Ezichi groans. “I just… I hate pining, but I can’t help it. I’ve listened to Leather and Lace so many times on repeat.”

Lily turns to look at Ezichi, frowning. “Leather and Lace? That’s even worse than what I’ve been listening to.”

Ezichi looks at her friend. “What have you been listening to?”

Lily places a hand on Ezichi’s, squeezing it. “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around.”

Ezichi cringes, and Lily Anne nods.

“Lily.” Her voice is tainted with disbelief.

“Mhm.” Lily Anne nods, pressing her lips together.

Ezichi curses in Nigerian and looks back up at the ceiling. The pair sit in silence, taking in everything that’s just happened.

“I wrote a song,” Lily says, breaking the silence.

Ezichi holds out her hand for the notebook, and when Lily doesn’t immediately hand it to her, she looks over to see her friend beet red.

“What is it, Lily?” Ezichi asks.

She exhales deeply and turns to face her friend, cringing. “It’s really bad.”

Ezichi rolls her eyes. “You write good stuff, don’t say that.”

She shakes her head, laughing nervously. “No, no, no! It’s just really… I’ve never written something so piney in my life.”

Ezichi sighs. “Let me read it. I won’t judge.”

Lily Anne slowly reaches for the moleskin and clutches it, but hesitates and drops her arm. “I don’t think I should.”

Ezichi sits up, looking down at her friend. “Lily Anne Mercury, I have listened to you talk about how you can barely watch old footage of Queen because of how prominent the mooseknuckles are while you were on anesthesia. I still didn’t judge you.”

Lily Anne waves her hands around, fumbling with words. “I-- You-- That’s no fair, they’re very prominent and you know it!”

Ezichi shushes her, since Bronwyn and Madigan are asleep, and holds out her hand. Sighing in defeat, Lily Anne hands over the moleskin. Ezichi begins to read, and nods along, liking what she’s seeing.

They say everything seems to come in threes

You’re the third angel that’s come to me

My life’s been a long and lonely ride

It’s gotten so much better with you by my side

I’m not good at saying how I feel

But I know we could have something good, something real

You’re the best man I’ve been blessed to know

Accompanied me on my late night smokes

Oh, you’re further away than I would like

Run through my mind on the long, late nights

And from the back of this tour bus I write

Knowing I’ll keep yearning till you hold me tight

I know this is something that would be high stakes

I’m terrified that I could make a mistake

But then I think about the lovely smile

And know I want your love for a good long while

Feel free to say no, I’d understand

I’m too much for many a man

Wouldn’t be the first time my heart would break

But I’ve got a feeling I’ve got baggage you could take

I just want to know what you think

Until then I won’t sleep a wink

Oh, you’re further away than I would like

Run through my mind on the long, late nights

And from the back of this tour bus I write

Knowing I’ll keep yearning till you hold me tight

Ezichi looks over at Lily Anne, who’s looking at the ceiling with a pained look. The girl slowly turns to face her friend, biting her lip.

“Pass me the guitar,” Ezichi says, smiling.

Lily Anne does as she says, and listens to the chords Ezichi plucks out, nodding when she likes what she hears. Pretty soon the basic chord structure is done, and Lily Anne begins humming along to the music. She turns on her recording app on her phone and holds it in between them. Ezichi plays slowly as Lily Anne crafts the melody, becoming something folksy and raw, but still soft and gentle. Pretty soon she’s humming a harmony, and the pair smile when they finish the song twice over, and Lily stops the recording.

Lily Anne looks up at her friend. “Does it sound good?”

Ezichi nods, closing her eyes. “It’s perfect.”

At their next concert, they perform the song, which has yet to be named, and the video goes viral with the speculation of who Lily might be singing about.

--

Ben bites his lip after watching the video for the fifth time in a row, and scratches Frankie’s head as he processes what he’s just heard.

Does Lily Anne like him?

No, no. That sounds wrong. It’s not just some childish, temporary emotions they’re dealing with here. It’s so much deeper than that. He revises the question.

Does Lily Anne love him?

He shakes his head in confusion and puts down his phone, and Frankie nudges his hand with her wet nose. He looks down, and meets her big eyes, scratching behind both of her ears.

“What do you think, Frankie? Was that song for me?” he asks, and the dog blinks up at him, licking his wrist.

“That line about late night smokes seemed pointed, but I can’t be sure,” he continues, voicing his confusion. “Also, the third angel one is interesting, because she only had two near death experiences as far as I know, but she could have not told me everything. That’s possible, right?”

The dog looks up at him skeptically, as if to say, “Not likely, idiot.”

He shakes his head, frowning. “That’s unlikely, though. When she opened up, she probably would’ve told me everything.”

Frankie jumps off the couch, walking over to the kitchen.

“Nice conversation, Frankie,” he mutters, leaning back on the pillows.

He thinks for a moment, and picks up his phone, calling Joe and putting him on speaker. After a few rings, his friend answers.

“Hey, Ben,” Joe says, sounding exhausted.

“Hey, mate. How are you?” he continues, trying to find a normal way to breach the topic at hand.

“Good, good. Just feeling like I’m in college again, sleeping on Gwil’s couch,” he says, laughing. “You sound worried about something. Is anything wrong, Ben?”

Ben takes a moment before taking a deep breath. “I have a question,” he says.

“Alright. What is it?” Joe asks.

“So I watched the video of Room 301 that just went viral--”

“Did you like it?” Joe asks, becoming excited. “I thought it was really good.”

“Yeah of course! I loved it! They’re so talented. I can’t wait for them to come back so we can hang out and catch up with them,” Ben says, smiling.

“Me too. I miss them,” Joe says, sighing. “But I have a feeling this isn’t just you asking my opinion on the band. You know I love them.”

Ben stalls for a moment. “It’s sort of about the band? Specifically, Lily Anne.”

Joe is silent before beginning to speak, trying not to sound too excited. “What about her?”

Ben leans back before closing his eyes, trying to keep his composure. “Do you think the song is about me?”

Joe scoffs, and audibly groans. “Is this the first time you’ve thought that maybe Lily Anne has a crush on you?”

Ben tries to form words, but nothing is coming out.

Joe clears his throat and regains his composure. “Okay. Let me ask you this: do you like Lily Anne?”

Ben lets out a sigh, laying down on the couch. “I’ve been thinking about it and yeah… I think I do? I really don’t know how I feel.”

Joe lets out an affirmative noise, taking in the information. “Alright. Okay. On a scale from one to ten, how certain are you that you like Lily Anne?”

Ben covers his eyes with his hand. “I can’t… Joe. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me mate, I don’t know how to respond to that after what I just said!”

Joe splutters in anger and frustration before taking a deep breath. “Let’s try something different.” He thinks for a moment. “Tell me about Lily Anne.”

Ben is confused and sits up on the couch. “Huh?”

Joe groans before sighing. “Just tell me about Lily Anne. What you like about her, what’s so special about her, moments where you’ve been in awe of her.”

Ben perks up, beginning to walk around the apartment. “I mean… she’s got to be the strongest person I’ve ever met. She walks around and carries herself so confidently, and from the outside, you’d never suspect how much loss she’s experienced, but bloody hell, she’s gone through hell and back. She’s overdosed two times! She lost Freddie before she even got the chance to really know him, and even though a bunch of people helped keep his memory alive for her, it doesn’t replace having him there, you know? Jim died right in front of her as well, and that’s got to leave some deep emotional scars. The amount of criticism from the press she faces is insane because of her legacy, and she’s never quite fit in anywhere because of her parents and her mixed race.”

He’s getting animated, and Frankie opens one eye, watching him from her dog bed.

“All that, and she still presents such a strong, positive stage persona. When we went to that concert at the bar, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. If I didn’t know her, I wouldn’t have known how much she’s gone through, and how hurt she’s been. Really, it was amazing to see her just let the music take control and do what feels completely natural. It was so good. Musically, she’s a natural talent. Her voice is stunning, she’s incredible at the drums and guitar, and the songs she writes are so raw and real and incredible. I’m one hundred percent certain that she could write the next Bohemian Rhapsody, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my friend. I really mean it.”

Joe is still listening from the other end of the line and Ben can almost hear his smile. “I have a feeling there’s more coming.”

Ben grins, nodding. “She’s also so incredibly humble. She never wants to draw the attention to herself, but let’s be honest with ourselves, she deserves it. She doesn’t have an ego, and she’s not content relying on her father’s money, even though she could. She has an incredible work ethic, and pours her heart and soul into producing quality music for her fans. She’s so generous, and cares so much about other people. On the weekends she visits children’s hospitals and animal shelters, for god sake! If she just cared about the money she wouldn’t donate nearly as much of it or interact with people if it wasn’t mandatory. She deserves the world, Joe.”

Joe is biting back a smile as he asks, “If she asked you to give it to her, would you?”

Ben scoffs. “That’s a bloody stupid question. Of course I would!”

Wait, what? Did that actually just come out of his mouth?

He sits down in a chair, almost shaking.

Joe sounds content when he says, “I bet that she feels the same exact way about you, Ben.”

Ben takes a deep breath and blinks, still slightly in shock. “That sounds too good to be true.”

Joe lets out a little laugh. “Listen to the song. I’m pretty sure she’s thinking the same thing.”

When Ben ends the call after saying goodnight to Joe, he looks over at Frankie, who chews a toy Lily Anne gave her for her birthday.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Frankie lets out a huff of air and closes her eyes, relaxing in her bed.

TAGLIST: @andtheytoldustotellyouhello  @plethora-of-things @borhap-socials  @everybodyplaythegame  @i-the-fangirl @deakydeakydeaky @shisterfackisback @samanthadegaro  @lv7867  @fatbottomedcurls  @hystericallyqueen  @haisimsim  @peterparkeroos  @teenwolflover28  @ixchel-9275  @alessandra-elle  @onexlittlespark  @queenficarchive @leah-halliwell92  @rrrogah-tayluhh @maddistudiess  

[lamptracker]

FIC: Your Guide to the Afterlife

I know, I know, my inbox. But I also have this to publish, so.

And I don’t know where I came up with this so be gentle.

FIC: Your Guide to the Afterlife

Pairing: Female Reader/Harrison Osterfield

Summary: The reader dies. Harrison is her guide to the next step in her eternal journey. This is all fluff.

Also I’m going to be redoing my taglist like real soon-ish.

**

You have no idea what you’re doing here.

One minute, you were driving down the road; you’d been out celebrating your best friend’s birthday. You were the designated driver, so you were sober; you had just finished dropping off your last passenger.

The next thing you knew, you’d heard screeching tires, crunching metal, breaking glass; the smell of burning rubber, gasoline, and blood filled your nostrils. You remember feeling weightless for a moment, like you were flying; the earth soon rose up to meet you.

The last thing you remember thinking was: what is happening?

Now you’re in a small room. Everything is white - the walls, the carpeting. You’re sitting on a white overstuffed couch. A small white vase sits atop an end table (white wood); three white lilies peek out from the top.

Your first thought is: Where am I?

Your second thought: Why is everything white?

“Hello?” you call out. Despite the carpeted floors, your voice echoes slightly. “Is anyone there?”

No answer.

Sighing, you lean back onto the cushions and close your eyes. You open them a short time later; seated to your immediate right is a young man.

You jump in surprise, because he definitely wasn’t there when you sat down. Your eyes go wide as you study him.

He’s about your age, if you had to guess. His close-cropped hair is dark blond, curly. He has piercing blue eyes and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. He's clad in all black, a stark contrast to your surroundings - black button down shirt, black jeans, black sneakers.

“Oh, hello, (y/n),” he says, in an air that suggest he’s been waiting for you the entire time. “My name is Harrison. I’m sure you have a lot of questions right now.”

“Where am I?” you ask, voice shaking slightly. “And how did you know my name?”

Harrison smiles. “I’m what they call a psychopomp.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “A what, now?”

“A psychopomp.”

You groan quietly. “Okay, um… Harrison, was it? Look, you can repeat it all you like, it’s still not going to make me understand it. Now, what on earth does that mean?”

Harrison laughs. “Oh, basically I’m a guide,” he says. “A psychopomp’s job is to guide newly deceased souls to the afterlife.”

Your eyes grow wide again. “So...so you mean I...I’m... “

“Dead?” Harrison’s eyes seem to light up at this. “Yes, the car crash. You were hit by a drunk driver going the wrong way. Ironic, isn’t it? Designated driver gets killed by a drunk driver? You didn’t die straight away, but you were gone before they got you to the hospital. If it makes you feel any better, the other driver died on impact. But he’s not here, that gets you straight to Hell.” He makes a low whistling sound while doing a weird sort of downward pointing motion.

“So… I’m dead.”

“Yes.”

“I’m dead?”

“You can repeat it all you like,” Harrison says, mimicking your earlier statement, “but it’s still not going to make it any less true.”

“I can’t be dead!” you exclaim, springing from your seat. “I’m not ready for this.”

“Nobody ever is,” Harrison says, voice slightly misty. “Even the ones that say they are? They’re really not, they just say that to try and help their loved ones feel better. But they’re just as terrified as you are.”

“I have so much to do,” you continue as you pace the room. “So much I didn’t get to do. I never got married-”

“Jake was all wrong for you, anyway,” Harrison says.

“I never had kids, I never even graduated from college, I never got to go to Paris.”

“Paris is overrated,” Harrison says. “The people are stuck-up and it always smells like stale bread. And you were going to fail that Statistics final anyway.”

You roll your eyes. You’re about to continue your lament of all the things you never accomplished, when a realization hits you:

“So… if I’m here, and you’re here,” you start slowly, “does that mean you’re dead too?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.”

“Am I… am I allowed to ask how you died?”

“Attacked by a mountain lion.”

Your eyes grow wide again. “Really?”

Harrison groans, his head hitting the back of the couch. “No. But it sounds way cooler than ‘anaphylaxis during knee surgery,’ doesn’t it?”

“You… huh?”

“I tore my ACL while I was training for a marathon, and when I went into surgery to have it repaired I had a bad reaction to the anesthesia and… now I’m here.”

“Well,” you say, smiling. “We all gotta go some way.”

“But my way sucks.”

“So does mine.”

Harrison sighs as he leans forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees. “I guess there’s really no good way to go, is there?”

You shrug. “I’ve always thought heart attack during sex would’ve been kinda cool. Or, I don’t know, died saving someone I loved. Fell into an active volcano, maybe. Definitely not something as bland as a car crash.”

“At least you didn’t die during routine knee surgery.”

“Fair point.” You look around the room for a moment, drumming your fingertips on your thighs. “So, um… how do I get there? You know, to where I’m going?”

Harrison smiles at you again. “Oh, you already know how to get there. You just… get up and start going, your soul knows where to take you.”

“Hmm. Okay. So… why are you here?”

“The journey’s a little long,” he explains, “and it can get lonely. So… I’m a guide, yes, but I’m also a companion. I’m here to… keep you company.”

“Wow,” you reply. “That’s actually kind of nice.”

“So.” Harrison stands, offering you his hand. “Shall we go?”

“I… I guess I’m ready.” You gently grasp his extended hand, and the two of you start down a long, narrow corridor.

He was right - your feet seem to know where they want to take you. You’re still slightly scared of what’s on the other end of the hallway, but you have Harrison now.

So the other end of the hallway doesn’t seem quite so daunting.

“What happens next?” you ask. “Where am I going?”

“I… okay. It’s a little weird-”

“Trust me, Harrison, nothing about this place could qualify as normal.”

Harrison chuckles. “And it’s a little hard to explain, um… you know the DMV?”

You wince. “Oh, God, I’m doomed to an eternity of waiting in line to get my registration renewed?! I was a good person! I mean, I did go in the side door to avoid the Salvation Army bellringer once, but...”

Harrison laughs shortly. “No! No, nothing like that. It’s sort of like the DMV. But it’s not. Um… it’s just this room that you go to, and the guy in there - Mort, you’ll like him, really - he looks at everything you’ve done during your life and he assigns you a position. I was always friendly and good with people, so he assigned me to be a psychopo-guide. Guide. I forgot, psychopomp is kind of a big word.”

“I always thought that when I died I went right to Heaven and St. Peter stood there at the gates,” you say.

“And he had a clipboard and checked things off of it?”

“Yeah!”

Harrison laughs. “Common misconception, I’m afraid, and far from the truth.”

“So you’re telling me St. Peter is actually a dude named Mort?”

“I… sort of. Only St. Peter decided whether or not you got into Heaven, never gave you a clue what you were supposed to do when you got there. Mort actually gives you something to do. Hey, maybe you’ll be a guide like me.”

You ponder it for a moment. “Maybe. I always did like meeting new people.”

The two of you walk in silence for a long time. But, you notice, it’s not that kind of eerie silence that you think you need to fill with idle chit-chat. It’s a comfortable silence, like when you’re with someone you’ve known forever. You don’t need to fill that type of silence; it’s the kind that feels safe, comforting.

Just having someone with you is all you really need. It makes the journey seems less scary, less dreadful. You’re actually looking forward to what’s on the other side.

“So it was your best friend’s birthday, yeah?” Harrison asks.

You nod. “Yep. And I was named the designated driver because I was just getting over a sinus infection but was still on antibiotics. Really don’t want to mix those with alcohol.”

“Yeah, I learned that one the hard way once. How long were you friends?”

“Since we were eight. I’m going to miss her.”

“I miss my best friend,” Harrison says wistfully. “His name’s Tom, we’ve been friends since we were fifteen. He was the sort of mate that’d drop anything to help you. You know how everyone needs a hype man? Tom was mine.”

“Hannah was mine too,” you reply. “Do you think I’ll see her again someday?”

“I think so,” Harrison answers. “We all meet up with our loved ones sometime or another. I got to see my granddad not long ago. I do this, yeah, but we also have time to be with our loved ones. It’s a good balance.”

You’re comforted by that.

As the two of you walk, you steal the occasional glance at him. Maybe, if you two were still living, you’d date him. He seems your type - friendly, a little goofy, tall (but not too tall) and handsome.

“Did you have any pets?” he asks.

“A cat named Steve. He passed away a few years ago, do-”

“You will probably get to see him again, yes. Pets end up here too, I had a dog named… wait, Steve?”

“Steven Grant Meowgers. I thought it’d be a funny name for a cat. I was actually looking at adopting a puppy, I even had names picked out. Bark Ruffalo for a boy, Kelly Barkson for a girl. Anyway, your dog?”

“Right, Monty. He was the best dog, I miss him too. I think he’s with my sister right now, but one day I’ll get to see him again.”

“Will I get to see you again?”

Harrison smiles softly at you. “Maybe. There’s not really dating up here - at least, not like there was on Earth - but the concept of soulmates follows you up here. If you didn’t find them on Earth, you’ll find them here.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t know, exactly. You almost never find out your first day, though. And you definitely don’t find out before you even get there. But… but maybe you’re mine.”

“I could think of worse soulmates.” You wink at him as he pretends to look wounded; the two of you soon dissolve into giggles.

You walk on for another long while. You ponder what a weird turn your day has taken. You woke up this morning, alive and well, ready to celebrate your friend’s birthday.

Now, you’re dead, with no idea what you’ll be doing in the afterlife, your eternal fate resting in the hands of a guy named Mort.

But you have a guide - who might be your soulmate? You don’t know.

It’s all a lot to comprehend.

But somehow, you’re not feeling the least bit overwhelmed by any of it.

You do know that having Harrison with you is a big help. You feel comforted, reassured, like maybe this isn’t so bad.

When you were alive, the thought of dying, the thought of this, terrified you to no end. What would happen to you? Where would you go, what would you do?

You’re here, though, you’re dead… and it’s okay. It’s really okay.

“Well… here we are.”

You look up at the doorway. You’d heard so much about the so-called “pearly gates.” This door, like everything else, was white; only this had a shimmery, iridescent hue. Almost… like a pearl.

“Mort’s expecting you,” Harrison says quietly. “I’m going to go and visit with my granddad for awhile, but I will see you soon I hope.”

“I hope so too.” You smile at him. “Hey, um… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For all your help. For making this not seem so scary and terrible. For being here. I’ve been dead for less than a day and I’ve already made a friend.”

Harrison returns your smile with a bright one of his own. “I’m glad I was able to help you. See you around?”

“Yeah. Hey, um… can I have a hug?”

Wordlessly, Harrison folds you into his arms; you wrap yours around his waist. You’ve hugged people before, and you’ve been hugged before, but this feels different. Warming, calming, not like any other hug you’ve ever had.

You never want it to end. You could think of worse fates than getting to hug a cute boy for all eternity.

“I guess I’d better get in there,” you say as you finally pull away. “See what ol’ Mort has planned for me.”

“I should leave you to it. Talk to you soon.” Harrison flashes you one last grin before starting the long trek back down the hallway.

Holding your head up confidently, you open the door and step inside to determine your fate.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Devil’s Temptation pt1

Welcome back, guys! Really glad you all decided to return and read more from my mob lords. As before inner thoughts for characters are in italics. I have a couple of new additions which I hope you enjoy as well. - Aerion

Warnings: Mob styling warlords, strong language. 

Masterlist

---

Chapter One – The Call Back

The quiet reverence of the room washed over him. After everything had happened the peace of the world around him felt unnatural. His place in it was questioned by every fibre of his living being. But time passed and he once again found himself alone and shrouded in silence, sipping his coffee whilst he replayed all the boring and mundane tasks he had done recently. The chime on his phone rang out on the table next to him. He picked it up and glanced at it. Mitsuhide’s usual smile snaked its way over his face as he looked at the anonymous number that sent the text.

“Now whatever could you want with me now?”

---

Azuchi Corp. HQ – 3 weeks ago.

It felt like the phones hadn’t stopped ringing in days and he was fairly sure the carpets in the hallways would need replacing with the extra foot traffic they had been seeing recently. How had it come to this? It had been great; the hard-won dream of his boss had been realised. The city was unified, there was peace.

– Knock, Knock –

“Come in.” He raised his head from leaning over his keyboard as he fielded his inbox that was starting to remind him more of a battleground.

“I’m sorry Mr Toyotomi this was just delivered.” The small figure of his secretary appeared in his room a bundle of wrapped packets in her arms that he knew would be the reports he asked for from the other buildings. I didn’t think there would be so many of them, maybe this is getting more out of hand than I thought.

“Thank you I’ll look at it shortly.” He gave her a smile to which she seemed to brighten, but there was no way he could miss the exhaustion adorning her face. “You can take off early for lunch if you like, it looks as if you could do with the break.” The secretary seemed to think about something for a moment, possibly asking if he was going to take a break as well. They seemed to think better of that idea and instead smiled.

“Thank you very much, Sir.” She gave a small bow at being dismissed and left him alone once more.

The attacks on the smaller sectors were becoming more regular. The stockholders that had maintained and held their loyalty to the company were now starting to question its ability to follow through with its promises of protection. He had tried to keep them happy but his skills were no longer enough and they were starting to search for blood of their own now.

He didn’t wish to both him but in the light of this new information and how quickly things seemed to be progressing, he didn’t see as he had much of a choice. With a slightly shaking hand, he pulled out his cell phone. He said I wasn’t to bother him except if it was important at the minute. I’m sorry but I think this counts as important. Resigned to his task he dialled the number and waited.

---

He hated hotels, well it wasn’t exactly true. Most hotels were rather pleasant after all it wasn’t like he was staying in anything less than five stars, he had his standards. No, what was affecting him more on this stay was the endless campaign things he had to do. The smiling and talking to everyone, listening to their issues and questions, playing the part of the good politician.

His first four years in politics had flown past in a blur of success and it was time for him to start the process again in an effort to repeat that success for the next four years. He sat on the balcony a glass of whiskey in his hand staring out at the ocean before him.

This quiet coastal area did not have much going for it and so was overlooked on most campaign trails as a stopping point. But he knew all too well how a small overlooked piece of anything could take down even the most masterful of plans. Yes, this small town would be his hidden gem. The residents always had a high turn out for voting.

He smiled as he watched the light dancing on water, he heard the familiar ringtone from inside his room. Hideyoshi? Returning inside he put his glass down and flipped his phone to answer it.

“It’s unusual for you to call me. I don’t suppose it is simply a matter of friendly interest particularly as I remember telling you not to call except in an emergency.” His voice was level and commanding as always. He smiled a little hearing the other man’s breath catch on the receiver.

“I’m sorry Sir. You remember the report I sent you on the franchises that were being targeted?” Hideyoshi sounded worried. That in itself wasn’t a new thing but to remain to be worried over something that should have been a simple fix did give cause for concern.

“The situation has escalated?” He queried as he sat in a comfortable recliner in the room.

“Yes, Sir. And it has gotten bad enough that the stockholders are now concerned. They are asking for the protection promised. I’m sorry Sir I failed and…” Now Hideyoshi was just stammering. It was frustrating in a way. He was a good man and adept with following orders but he was also far too nice for business. Sure, he was great with PR no one topped his skills with that except perhaps Shingen Takeda, but this was not a PR stunt.

“You have done no such thing. I shall look into the matter myself and see who we have knocking on our door. In the meantime, I expect you to placate the rumour mill as much as you can and keep things out of the press if at all possible.” It wasn’t hard to revert back to being the big boss. Although he had handed over the title officially, he had never given up total control in the end. He was still the master pulling the strings of his empire.

“Yes Sir, of course.” Hideyoshi sighed.

“Do you have a name or a direction that you think this is coming from yet? I presume you have not forgotten everything I taught you about thoroughly investigating things.” His voice was etched with a teasing tone. If he had learnt anything over the years it was that his right hand always responded to it.

“From what I have gathered from the other buildings as well Sir, the incidents have all happened after the sites were contacted by a new company in the area. The CEO of it seems to be popping up more and more in the local news too.” Good, Hideyoshi did do some background work then. Still, not as good as Mitsuhide who would have a whole docket on everything from a family tree to what they last purchased on a grocery list, but it will do.

“Yes, I think I know who you mean I’ve seen him around. There should be some events on currently for networking and charity fundraising. Go ahead and email me the list of the ones he will be attending and I shall work it into my schedule and see if I can work out a way of striking a deal.” He issued his orders in a calm and practised manner as he slipped his laptop from his bag and set it up in front of him.

“Yes, Sir.” The receiver clicked and he snapped the phone shut in his hand. The computer screen blinked into life and he began doing his own research.

“Now then let’s see what kind of pest I’m working with.” Nobunaga retrieved his glass and downed its contents in one go as he watched several news reports online.

---

He had spent the last week jumping from event to event observing the new CEO in town. It was fair to say he was young and ambitious. He seemed to charm everyone he came in contact with and Nobunaga felt a twinge pulling somewhere deep inside him as he looked on at what could have been a younger version of himself traversing the main hall schmoozing with guests.

“Well now let’s see who plays a better game shall we?” Nobunaga muttered to himself as he replaced an empty champagne glass and picked up a full one from a passing waiter. He moved to towards the group that was currently being sucked into the gravitational pull of the new guy's personality. It is impressive if this was some other time, I would have tried to hire him myself.

“… Naturally, that sort of thing is always a concern but I feel that a lack of options in business is also just as dangerous.” The man’s voice was clear over the group. “I intend to bring about a change that will shake up some of that dust that has settled in this city. Give the people some choices and inject back some much-needed energy into things.”  

“That is a rather bold declaration, Mr Yasui.” Nobunaga’s tone masked his bubbling emotion perfectly. For far too long he had hidden who he was in the underworld from the public eye and as a politician it had only increased his ability to strengthen that ability. “Allow me to introduce myself I am…”

“Nobunaga Oda.” A set of alert charcoal orbs met his gaze. The man’s wild black hair gave him a somehow soft appearance, approachable. But the attitude he projected was anything but that.  “There’s no need to introduce yourself after all you are legendary in the business world even if you ignore your recent political success.”

“Too kind.” Graciously Nobunaga tilted his glass in a polite almost mocking salute to the new shark before him.

“However, Mr Oda I should point out that legendary status is something that is often achieved only after your time has passed.” The almost imperceptible shift in the young man was enough. He knew what he was doing and who he was talking to when he moved closer to Nobunaga speaking now with less volume than before.

“Your point?” A smile pulled at Nobunaga’s lips as he listened.

“My point old man… is this.” Mr Yasui moved as if he was selecting food from the buffet table behind them. I cannot deny that is not a smart move it looks like a totally natural thing to do. “Your time is over, past. It had its place and now that place is gone. I will bring a new wave of power into this city and there is nothing that you can do to stop that. It’s time for old legends to step aside while the new blood brings about the winds of change this sleepy little place so badly requires.” So that is the game you wish to play little boy.

“I see.” Nobunaga placed his glass down and joined the challenger standing shoulder to shoulder with him as he too feigned food selecting. “Mr Yasui allow me to give you some words of advice. Some “legends” are legends because they always were. It would not be wise to underestimate one.”

“Are you threatening me?” The other man gave a mocking low chuckle.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing. After all, I would merely be returning the favour you have bestowed on me.” Nobunaga stated placing a napkin over his forearm as he picked up some of the deserts, he had selected on a silver fork. “That being said I might also give you some more advice.”

“And what is that?” Mr Yasui stood in defiance almost appearing to revert to what Nobunaga could only assume would be akin to a petulant teen in rebellion against a parental figure.

“Beware the winds of change. Sometimes they have a way of summoning the fires of Hell.” With nothing more to say Nobunaga turned on heel and left, returning to the party.

---

Takahiro Yasui watched the disappearing back of Nobunaga Oda as he moved back into the swirling masses in the room.

“That could have gone better” A soft voice appeared from his side. He did not need to run to see who it was.

“Actually, I think that went rather well.” Takahiro smiled and then noticed that the fork he had in his hand moments before was now being held by a pair of white cotton gloves, being rubbed in a clean handkerchief. “You always do that.”

“One can never be too safe.” After completed his task the man handed back the utensil. “Sir.”

---

The key card clicked against the secured lock on his room turning the red light to green. He shrugged off his dinner jacket and tossed it on the back of a chair in the corner of his suite before making his way to get a drink.

He had played with the idea that he might be able to talk to the young man and see a way to deal with things peacefully. It had only taken a few minutes in his presence to work out that anything he suggested would have been shot down and put him at a disadvantage. This new blood was going to live up to everything he said. There was no doubt in his conviction. Admirable, but foolish.

Nobunaga stood in front of the bar in the room and looked up from his drink preparations catching his own reflection in the mirror. He smiled and laughed at the reflection in front of him. He could see the spark flickering back in his own red eyes, it had not been there for months. But now, now this new challenge had stoked and rekindled that fire. He had not felt that thrill in a very long time, and it held him in a familiar embrace he didn’t even realise he had been missing.

Hell, be damned if he lost everything now because of some pumped up little pest that blew in on the wind. He located one of the cell phones at the bottom of his travel bag. It was a habit and one that he learnt from his friend a long time ago, always have a backup and never leave traces that can come back to bite you in your ass. He tapped out a code and sent it to a number he knew off by heart before reclining in his chair on the balcony watching the moonlight dance on the waves.

---

There was silence blanketing the loft apartment as he slept in his king-size bed. The crisp clean sheets had relaxed him enough after his confrontation at the event so he could sleep. A shadowy figure dropped down outside on the balcony, making swift work of the sliding glass doors before entering, unheard.

From what the shadow had been told this was the guy the boss wanted expunging as fast as possible. Make it look like an accident, he could do that it was something he was best at. He found a glass and decanter of water next to his sleeping target’s bed. Carefully he pulled out a packet with some powdered crystals in it placing them into the glass. He only needed the man to drink enough to become immobile so he could be moved more easily to the final destination.

A sharp pain lanced in his back as something penetrated his skin. It was not something the shadow had expected and realised all too late that he had made a rookie error in judgment believing that his target was alone. The pain subsided into numbness as his body gave out beneath him and a set of strong hands wrapped around him lowering him to the floor.

“If you thought it was that easy, you are even more stupid than the man that hired you.” The voice rumbled with an intensity that made you question its humanity. That was all he heard before it went dark.

---

There was a knock on his door. He ignored it before it happened again, this time a little louder. There had been no reply back to his burn phone that he had placed next to his laptop as he continued to write his speech, he had due in the next couple of days. Curious Nobunaga retrieved his gun from his jacket and opened the door.

He barely had enough time to catch the body of the man that tilted towards him. Dressed completely in dark shades of blue and green there was no doubt that this was the hitman he had hired. Over the years he had become very good at recognising his “cleaning” staff. Nobunaga dragged the figure further into his room before checking the hallway quickly and shutting the door. Turning around he noticed a note pinned to the back of the now deceased assassin.

“Are you ready to play a game?”

This was bad. It did not take a genius to work that out Nobunaga had underestimated the challenge and this was the result. What’s more, the challenger knew it was him. Shit. Nobunaga grabbed is burn phone once more and tapped out one of the fasted SOS messages of his life to the one man he knew could help him now.

“Time to come back.”

He ripped the phone in two smashing the card with an ornamental figure from the room before tossing it and the body into the bathtub in his room. A body wasn’t hard to make disappear but this new pest required the expertise of a rather particular predator. He just hoped he still had that predator’s favour.

---