#too much death lately making me softer about whats left

[adlibitur]

sometimes i have to stop myself from retelling other peoples funny stories because they live so fondly in my own memory

[the-winter-spider]

Good Guy Part 2 - S. Harrington

Word count: 2k

Warnings: angst, swearing

A/N: Long awaited part 2, I’m sorry it sucks. I just don’t have that spark anymore, feel free to give me any ideas on how this story should go! Not edited or proofread sooo if theres any crazy mistakes be kind lemme know? 😅

MASTERLIST

Part one

—

“Why didnt you say anything?!”

“We, uh didn't know yet” Your voice was quiet, timid. You felt this pit in your stomach, ashamed maybe? Most likely guilt because now you had added on the pile of crap you and your friends had been dealing with for years, you could see the tiredness in their eyes. You wanted maybe even needed to tell them not to worry about you, to focus on saving Max. But you couldn't find your voice with the way he was looking at you.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair, he was kneeled down in front of you, he was so close his hands on your knees, squeezing gently, you could almost see water threatening to spill over his lash line “It's been 2 hours since we found out” his voice was softer now “Why?”

You shrugged “It's easier to save one of us instead of both”

Steve blinked his eyes going wide “Were you just not going to say anything until it was too late?”

You sighed “I dont know”

He scoffed, his heart shattering, his mood shifting from how nonchalant you were being, he couldn’t believe you would be so reckless, so selfish. He pushed himself off the ground laughing “You don't know” he tossed his head back, he spun around looking at everyone else in the room “She doesn’t know! That's just great, so great, she wasn’t going tell me” He paused briefly “She wasn’t going to tell us that she was cursed” He placed his hands on his hips, moving to look at the ceiling to stop his tears from spilling over “This day just keeps getting better and better”

Nancy took a step forward, her voice soft, her eyes softer “Why?”

You dragged your eyes away from Steve to meet hers, your vision blurring “How many times can I truly escape death” Your memory playing like a timelapse of all of the close calls, from the first time in 83’ when the demogorgon had you pinned to the ground his claws dragging across your stomach, if it wasn’t for Steve that would have been it. To the second time in 84’ at the junkyard when you were too focused on the demodogs in front of you forgot about the possibility that there could be some behind you, which of course happened and of course again if it wasn’t for Steve who knows what could have happened. And to the most recent one of 85’ the summer that this thing between Steve and you finally happened, god you didn't even need to be saved that summer because he was already always there protecting you just in case you got reckless which you always did. “Third times the charm right?” you gave a shadow of a smile trying to make a really bad joke to lift even the tiniest bit of weight off of the room.

“You have got to be shitting me” Steve through his hands up stomping towards the basement door “I need some fucking air” he grumbled before slamming the door shut behind him.

As Steve slammed the door shut, everyone in the room was left speechless and stunned. The room went silent, only the sound of Steve stomping upstairs and the sound of the screen door closing a few seconds later pierced the air. The room was thick with tension, and everyone was exchanging looks, unsure of what to say or do next.

Nancy was the first to break the silence, her voice soft, but filled with anger.

“What the hell, Y/n?”

“Im sorry, i just….” You paused not knowing what to say, all eyes on you. The room now felt heavy, like it was closing in on you, you pushed off the couch, pushing past everyone and making your way out the basements side door. You needed fresh air. You could longer breath in there.

As you pushed past everyone and headed outside, Robin, Nancy, and Max followed after you. You were walking quickly, moving your legs as fast as you could, trying to put as much distance between you and everyone else. You could feel their footsteps behind you, their eyes on your back, and the tension that still hung in the air.

Finally, you stopped and turned to face them, your breath ragged and heavy. They stood there in silence for a few seconds, waiting for you to say something.

The fresh air filled your lungs, you took a deep breath. Hands still shaking “So how does this change the plan?” you sighed

Your friends exchanged glances, clearly surprised by your response. They were expecting you to break down or apologize, but instead, you were still as calm as ever.

It was Max who spoke up first, her voice soft but firm.

"Change the plan? Seriously, that's what you're Focusing on right now? What about the fact that you could die”

You ran your fingers through your hair “Yeah, but so could you! You’re young, you have more to live for, we focus on you first”

Max's eyebrows furrowed, and she took a step forward, her expression laced with anger.

"What do you mean 'more’ to live for'? Do you think your life means less? Do you realize what you sound like right now?“

“A self sacrificial asshole?” You smiled lightly trying to break the tension “You have people who love you Max, who need you” You gestured to Lucas who was inside with Dustin, giving you girls a minute.

Max's anger softened slightly, but her voice was still firm. "And what about the people who love you? Do you think we want to lose you? Do you honestly think we'd be better off without you?“

“One less problem, one less life to worry about” you shrug “Ill be okay if i know your okay”

You slightly leaned on your left foot, your eyes looking between Robin, Nancy and Dustin, you cleared your throat “Someone should go check on Steve, we need to stick together right now”

Nancy nodded, her expression solemn "I'll go talk to him"

She glanced at the others, silently giving them a look that said "stay here. I'll handle this" before heading off to find Steve.

“We should head back inside to talk about this” Robin suggested, gesturing to the situation, your situation.

Max reluctantly nodded, her expression still laced with concern as the group made their way back inside, heading back down the stairs toward the basement.

—-

Nancy found Steve sitting in his car on the street, his head in his hands. She knocked politely on the window before getting in “You okay?”

Nancy nodded, full understanding the situation that was at hand, the one that escalated from just Max being cursed but now you to “She should’ve said something sooner, i get that but we didn’t full understand what the symptoms were till last night Steve, with everything going on im sure her headaches and nightmares seemed normal given the circumstances” Nancy tried to reason with Steves anger towards you

Steve let out a frustrated huff, his hands moving up to run through his hair, pulling on the ends slightly in frustration. "That's just it, Nancy. I thought her being on edge and having headaches was normal too, but I should've known better. I should've been more observant, more attentive. I should have noticed something was wrong even before all this Vecna crap!” He paused taking a deep breath, his voice cracking “I’m with her everyday, I should’ve noticed something was wrong, maybe I could have helped her, no I know I could have helped her and maybe she wouldn’t be a target”

Nancy nodded “You care about her a lot dont you?” she smiled softly

Steve's shoulders slumped and he leaned back against the seat. "Yeah, more than I probably should. It's just... We have a history, y'know? We've been through so much together. And now this...” He gestured towards the house, towards you. "I just can't lose her, Nancy. I don’t what I would do if I did."

Nancy straightened up “You wont” she reached out placing her hand on Steve’s shoulder “Were going to do everything to save both of them Steve, Max and y/n, i promise”

Steve let out a shaky sigh, his shoulders drooping. "I hope you're right, Nance, I really do. But every time we think we've got a handle on things, another curveball gets thrown our way. It's like for every problem we solve, three more pop up in its place. I just feel like we're fighting against the goddamn universe here."

Nancy nodded full understanding “I get it i do. But right now we should be in there” Nancy gestured to her house “With them, brain storming a plan to keep Max and y/n safe.”

Steve nodded, reluctantly agreeing with Nancy. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before speaking. "You're right. I know you're right. We need to focus on the task at hand. Max and Y/N need us, and we can't waste time moping around." He opened the car door and stepped out, looking back at Nancy with a determined expression on his face. "Let's get to work."

Nancy jumped out “Steve wait” she spoke while shutting the passenger door

Steve paused, turning to face Nancy with a puzzled expression. "Yeah, what is it?"

“I know you said you should push your feels aside but just in case” Nancy crossed her arms “You should tell her how you feel” She smiled softly “Just in case”

Steve's heart skipped a beat, and he felt a pang in his chest at Nancy's words. He had been struggling to keep his feelings for you hidden, trying to deny them even to himself. "I... uh" he stumbled over his words, his heart racing a mile a minute. "I don't know,..Do you really think that's the best idea right now? I mean, with everything going on..."

“I do Steve, Maybe not right at this very moment” Nancy joked “But i think you’ll both regret it if you dont, especially if something happens” Nancy was insinuating in case something went wrong which meant in case Vecna got you.

Steve nodded slowly, his expression turning somber. He knew deep down that Nancy was right. But the thought of confessing his feelings in the midst of this chaos and danger was a scary one. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if his feelings just made things more complicated?

"Yeah... I get what you mean. But how, and when, am I supposed to do it? Feels like the worst possible time for me to bring all of this up."

Nancy smiled softly walking towards her house “You’ll know when Steve” she paused with her hand lingering on the front door handle “Maybe something good can come out of all this bad” before turning it and walking in her house, heading to the basement to come with a plan to kill Venca and save you and max

Steve stood there for a moment, his mind racing with Nancy’s words. Maybe something good can come out of all this bad. That thought echoed in his mind as he watched Nancy disappear into the house. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he made his way back to the basement, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

You sat there quietly on the couch at the back of the basement while the kids and robin started to put together a half assed plan. Nancy hit the bottom step before catching your eye and smiley softly before joining the group a few feet from you to come up with a plan to stop Venca.

Robin, Lucas, Dustin, Max, and Nancy huddled together, quietly brainstorming and discussing ideas. Every now and then they would glance over at you, checking to see if you were listening or had anything to add. You could see the worry etched on their faces, their expressions clouded with concern and fear for your well-being.

But you remained silent and still, your mind filled with turmoil and anxiety as you sat at the back of the basement, listening to their hushed voices.

Steve finally joined the rest of them. He sighed when he seen you there by yourself, he could tell you were trying your best not to cry. He glanced over at Robin who was with the other group, she nodded her head in your direction. Gesturing for him to go talk to you.

Steve caught Robin's silent message, nodding his head slightly in acknowledgment. He knew that she was right. He couldn't avoid this any longer. He needed to talk to you.

He glanced over at you once more, noticing your attempts to hide your emotions. His heart clenched tightly in his chest, and he took a deep breath before slowly making his way over to you.

“Hey” He mumbled softly “Can i sit?” You nodded still not looking up at him

Steve sat down next to you, leaving a small gap between the two of you. He fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure of how to start the conversation.

He let out a small sigh before speaking again "Listen, I... I wanted to talk to you about something."

Your head felt heavy lifting it up to turn to Steve “Yeah?”

Steve's gaze met yours. His eyes were intense and filled with a mix of emotions, but also a hint of vulnerability.

"Look, I know we're in the middle of a goddamn mess right now. And I know that you've got a lot going on in your head. But I need to say this."

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words to say, this was something he truly didn’t want to mess up, he couldn’t.

Your heart was picking up, this was it you thought. You could see the nervousness in his eyes, his hand was plucking the seams of the old work couch. You watched his mouth open before you heard the clock, you tensed. You turned back to Steve something felt off, his eyes were now dark, he laughed, but it was different it was dark, evil, sinister sounding “Steve?” You questioned

“Steve” He mocked “Did you really think i loved you? Did you really think i could love someone like you?” He chuckled “Your pathetic, i cant wait for you to go, to leave for him to take you. It would be a relief”

Tears were now rolling down your cheeks as you got up from the couch backing up “You dont mean that” He was taunting you, as you looked around you realized this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. Then you heard it, the low growling.

Vecna.

[hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha]

Request: what if the hantengu clones (+ the main body and zohakuten ofc) found their wife murdered‼️

The backstory: The demon slayer corps found out that one of the twelve Kizuki (Uppermoon 4) had a wife and decided to kill her.

𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓷...

Hantengu x Fem!Reader [Angst]

Synopsis: He has a feeling that she should be moved. It's a tactic he always used if he's been in one place for too long since it would get on the Demon Slayers' radar. Oh well... Is that what the humans call 'gut feeling'?

Warnings: Blood, Corruption, surprisingly short?

Note: This has been on my mind for a while, you vile person. But, I love me some good angst also since it's been a good long while. Anyways, enjoy, babe. ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

"D-Darling, I believe it's best if we move...!" Hantengu tried to coax her into joining him on his travel before he leaves for his mission. "Nonsense! Look at how long it's been and not a single slayer or demon has found me!" But she was too stubborn to go, likely because she enjoyed this area and because it was closest to home. She, like many other humans, tend to wave things off because she's either too caught up with her feelings or has gotten used the feeling of safety. Nevertheless, something in his mind told him this place wasn't safe for him or his wife anymore. Especially her. "Go, you're just a little paranoid today. The mission will be fine. I will be fine." She assured him, taking his hand and placing a kiss on his temple. "Go now, those slayers will quite literally not kill themselves, you know?" Perhaps she's right. Maybe he's being too paranoid and it's just him worrying too much. She seemed to be perfectly fine like usual and it isn't the first time he's worried about staying in one place too long yet remained because he had no other option or had to by order of Muzan. The short demon whimpered quietly, having concluded that it was just him overthinking things before he then left for his mission.

He'd return hours before sunrise, that much is certain. He can't keep his lady waiting now, can he? And besides, he's had little to no time to spend with her, a date night would do him some good and would make her quite happy! The demon went off towards the south where he the Demon Slayers are currently travelling.

"I say we execute her! She's a traitor to humanity for keeping a demon in her household much less being married to it!" A bold and brazen voice yelled out in anger. How could a human peer live happily with a demon? The bane of humanity's existence? How dare she! "We mustn't act irrationally. Who knows why she's still with him? She could potentially be under some spell." A softer more compassionate voice countered. The thought of executing a human, one of the very things they the slayers protect is revolting. "She's been married to that thing for nearly five years and is well-aware of the crimes he commits!" The brazen one persists. He believes that someone such as herself is no longer apart of humanity as she's committed the greatest sin one can commit and that is aid a demon. "Oyakata-sama himself said—" "I don't give a damn! He's a fool if he can't see that she's a traitor to us all and if you won't help me, I'll do it myself!" His peers tried to stop, tried to reason with him that killing the woman will get him executed and possibly hunted down by the Kizuki she's married to which result in death and death only. It's an Upper Rank demon for crying out loud, is he stupid?

It appears so... His peers tried to stop him from committing a mistake that would get him killed but it was futile, he had gone for the poor woman. They weren't going to stop him, it was too late and they were too scared. The slayers feed back to the Corps while the rogue went his own path – the path towards his grave.

"Urogi!!!" Sekido yelled, commanding Urogi to be rid of the group of slayers trying to ambush him while he focuses on the main threat. A hashira. And to think such a young boy, no older than fifteen, is able to take them on so well. It's infuriating. Urogi did as he was told and killed the pests with little effort as they then focused on their main target. It was difficult and Zohakuten had to get involved, though from there on out was smooth sailing and as expected, they finished the mission hours before sunrise. Zohakuten took Hantengu and used his dragons to get back as fast as he could. Like Hantengu, he had a feeling that he needed to get there, as if somebody was trying to hurt her, but then, thought back to her words and tried to brush it off as him being paranoid. He travelled stealthily, using the forest as his camouflage until he reached the populated town, where he would have to travel by foot.

Once he arrived at his destination, he swiftly entered his home through the back though the instant he stepped foot into the house, he knew that something was not right. "Y/N?!" He called to his beloved wife, quickly searching the house with his eyeblinking speed. "Y/N!!!" At this point, Urami was out, searching for their shared wife as well. He had gone upstairs to check if she were hiding in one of the rooms, having taken note at some of the wrecked furniture, breaking down doors and flipping things upside-down. Zohakuten was downstairs, trailing the scent of blood... her blood... He knew where it was coming from. He could feel where she was and yet he refused to look, as if in denial of what could—is. Just then, the clone felt true fear for the first time. He entered the spacious kitchen, peeking his head around the counter before his eyes landed on a pair of legs. Her legs. Despite his monstrous strength and lighting fast speed, in that moment, Zohakuten found himself barely able to move at the sight, only taking small steps at the pace of a snail.

"Zohakuten! Did you find—" Urami froze instantly, not only at the smell, but also at the sight. He pushed past Zohakuten towards the corpse he saw and to his despair, it was was the one human he cherished so. He picked up the corpse which finally revealed to Zohakuten that corpse was his wife. It was silent. Blood dripped from her mouth, her eyes were open, and her injuries were... too severe for a human to handle. Slit throat, cut tongue, stabbed in the solar plexus... Their poor, poor wife. She was killed brutally and unjustly, afraid and alone as she choked on her own blood, likely hoping and praying her husband would save her, and yet, nobody came. What did she do to deserve this? What did his innocent and kind wife do to deserve this? After a few long and quiet moments, Zohakuten immediately snapped out of his stunned state and tried to check the room for any hints whatsoever on who might have committed such an unforgivable crime. And then, they saw it. The kanji "Destroy", painted with her own blood. The very same kanji they see on the humans that pester them and likely her last sign for him before she died.

"Those repugnant scum..." Zohakuten hissed softly, pupils constricting at the mere sight of the kanji and his hatred flaring to a level even he has never felt before. Urami stood there, wide-eyed as his large hand rested on his poor wife's face before, trying to thoroughly process that the Demon Slayers were the ones who had committed this crime. Demon Slayers... Aren't they the ones who boast about the fact that they do not eat or harm humans in anyway? That they defend them with their lives from "evil demons" like himself? As the realisation lingered in the air, he too began to feel strong levels of resentment that he has but unlike Zohakuten, his expression remained unchanging. That was until he felt her slip away from his touch. He immediately turned to see who it was that dared to take the only thing he has left of her only to be met with his silently sobbing, sorrowful counterpart. "My d-darling..." The other three were present as well. Sekido was speechless and so were the other two. They could take no pleasure or joy out of this... Their wife was dead. Aizetsu was the only one who properly displayed what Hantengu felt the most in this situation as his crying became more apparent and his tears stained her face.

"I should not have left you..." Aizetsu continued his hopeless muttering as he embraced her corpse while the others stared in silence. To Aizetsu, everything was gone. Everything that he as a demon could ever cherish was ripped away from his ever depressing grasp, that being the one true thing that made his everlasting sorrow a bit more bearable. His darling, his love, his better half...

My wife...

The tears of his still and broken heart rushed out like a raging ocean. His sobs increased in volume as his shaking hand caressed her still beautiful face, streaming down from his face to hears. "M.. My love... M-My beautiful.. No..." He couldn't stop his choked sobs and constant hiccups even if he tried, simply burying his face into her now pale and cold, dead neck. She who was once so warm and radiant, now nothing more than the average corpse he had seen of both humans and slayers. "C-Come back to me..." But the demon was no fool. He knew she would not ever be brought back to life.

"We can... We can turn her into one of us... right?" Urogi tried to ask but was quickly shut up by a blank stare from Sekido, which answered his question. "But how? She'll be able to resist it! Even now! Who knows how long it's been?! We can't leave her!" "The blood is almost an hour old... With what system will she fight back?" Sekido can understand why Karaku and Urogi are in denial but coming up with worthless solutions will most certainly flare his anger. It quickly died down when the scent of her corpse entered his nose as the realisation that his wife is dead would sink in once more. She was gone. Stolen from their loving arms and for what...? For what? FOR. WHAT. Taken by those slayer scum who pride themselves in protecting their human peers! Yet, look now! His wife was human too! Was she the exception because she was married to a demon?! Was that to them a way of betrayal?! Now, it was his turn for his anger to flare in overwhelming levels. "Let her go." He stated firmly, as if he was over her death just like that.

"What?" "No!" Aizetsu was first to refuse only hugging her corpse tighter while the others stared at him in shock, as if he had grown another head. "Let. Her. Go." Everybody had to object against that decision and ask why, especially Urami. He did not bend as easily to Sekido's will as the others and would refuse until he got an answer. "Standing here and feeling sorry for not having been there to save her will do nothing." Sekido states coldly, gripping his khakkhara tighter, giving Urami and the others his coldest, most brutal glares. "She was our wife—" "And she's dead." The others were absolutely in shock at his near merciless behaviour until they realised why he was acting like this. Revenge. "This entire town and the next will pay for it." Sekido announced with not an once of mercy present in his voice. No men, women or children will be spared and a point will be made. These Demon Slayers are as evil as Hantengu had said them to be, as their Lord Muzan had painted them to be and he intends on getting justice for his beloved wife.

After much struggle, Aizetsu eventually let up, closing her eyes and embracing her body one last time, muttering a soft apology and a declaration of his love for her – however his brain allows him to feel that which he is not. They had not intended on burying her just yet, though. Sekido had cleaned her up, washed every ounce of her blood off of her body, bandaged the stab wounds and stitched her slit throat closed before he dressed her in her favourite kimono. After he finished cleaning and dressing her, he took her hand and brought the back of her palm to his mouth, gently pressing his lips against it. "Wait for us, my bride. No matter how long it takes. Please wait for us." That was the only time Sekido had ever allowed such a vulnerable part of himself to be free as in that moment, his anger was almost non-existent. He felt only a dull and heavy feeling all over his body but especially in his chest. A sort of pressure. He didn't know what it was.

He left her in her bedroom and joined the others. The only one who wasn't there was the main body. He had been waiting for Sekido to leave so he could be alone with his wife, this moment being on of the few times he isn't hiding within Urami and simply remains out in his normal size, clutching his deceased wife's hand. "I-I-I'll... k-kill them.. for you..." That was his promise to her before he broke out into never-ending sobs, clutching her hand and hoping she would miraculously wake up despite her fatal injuries. He, Aizetsu, and Zohakuten were in denial the most...

That very same night, the entire town was slaughtered mercilessly within a singular hour. No men, women, or children were spared. Not even the animals. And the town after, and the town after. That night, the true unfiltered power of an Upper Moon demon was shown. Neither of the nine current Hashiras would ever defeat the once madly in love demon now scorned. Not the period before, or the one before that. Any slayers and Hashira that were sent to deal with the Upper Four were killed in mere minutes and devoured like a delicacy. Lord Muzan himself caught onto to the reckless behaviour of Upper Four, but allowed him to do so simply because he eyed his power.

From that day on, he never spoke of her again. Even thinking about her was far too painful and the image of her discovered by Zohakuten and Urami even more. He was back to serving his Lord Muzan mindlessly...

Note: You, person, are responsible for the absolute outrage that will happen.

Taglist:

@hawnkoii @fallstreakfeathers @dreamcorechild @lumitylovepill @hantengus-fuckass-clones @sunbrokenswords @georgette-mademoiselle @hearts4mitsuri @star-dust-wanderer @shytastemakerthing

[tanith-rhea]

Carnations

It was beautiful, in a morbid way, that this would be the way you'd go. A botany teacher whose lungs were filled with flowers.

Author's note: absolute angst on this one, I won't promise tears cause different people sail different ships, but I can say that there is no happy ending, a good old character death which I suspect is over-described, and the illusory or not certainty of unrequited love.

You may do with this information whatever you please 💛

You'd always had a fascination when it came to flower diseases. Hanakanjō always seemed to you like the worst thing that could happen to a person, flowers sprouting from one's skin and betraying their emotions to others around them. In the end, you wish you could trade it for yours, it would be mortifying to burst into pink carnations every time Larissa walked past you, but at least you wouldn't have yellow ones choking you up at night when you replayed her words repeatedly in your head.

"I could never fall in love with an employee," she'd said, nursing what little wine was left in her glass.

"Do you think you could control it?" the question had nothing to do with your fondness for the principal, it spoke of how much of a romantic you were, actually, how tragic it would be if it happened.

She seemed to consider it for a while, before settling for "I'm fairly certain. I have no interest in falling in love and even if I had I would make sure to not harbour any feelings for someone I could not pursue. I wouldn't be so careless as to set myself up for heartbreak," her voice sounded sure and final. She finished her drink and inhaled carefully before eyeing your glass and seeing you'd also finished yours.

"I'm afraid it's rather late," she continued softly, "This was supposed to be a work meeting and I kept you for far too long," she paused, and you felt something tighten in your chest as you realized the conversation (and your lovely evening) was over. "Thank you for indulging me, though."

Larissa would never fall in love with a teacher. And you, pretty much a teacher and "one of the few she considered a friend", would never have your feelings reciprocated.

It was rather lovely, to be in love, and you discovered you didn't mind to love alone that evening when you left her office. It was really such a shame that your lungs begged to disagree.

The first time you coughed you were in class. You were about to explain to a second-year student how a certain plant could be made into poison and medicine depending on the situation or its handling when you broke into a fit. You hadn't caught a cold and no flowers were blooming quite yet, so when you couldn't stop for a whole thirty seconds you thought it rather odd.

The blood in your elbow pit once you finally stopped was also curious, but you carried on until all classes were finished.

Later that same day, you were at the quad waiting for a student who had asked you to take a look at his potted plant which he said didn't look so good. He had left class just a few minutes before and passed through the quad to tell you he would go to his dorm take the plant and come back in two beats but he was taking his time, apparently.

Distracted, you didn't notice someone approaching the table you were sitting at and squeaked like a scared squirrel once Larissa's hand laid on your shoulder.

"My, my, I did think you were a bit lost but it seems you were in fact stupefied," she sounded amused. Your face was catching fire.

"You absolute menace, why did you sneak up on me like that? Do you want to kill me?" your voice was still squeaky; like you'd inhaled helium.

Larissa laughed, full of mirth and fondness, and you couldn't pretend to be displeased with her when your lips were insisting on twitching up. You were probably making a funny face while fighting back your smile because she only continued on, if softer, as you shook your head and looked away.

"I'm sorry to have startled you, I was only passing and wanted to know what you were up to." Her hand was still resting on your shoulder and her thumb was now soothingly stroking small circles on the hollow of your clavicle.

She smiled affectionately at you while you composed yourself enough to answer. You had close to no dignity left but you would fight to recuperate it.

You cleared your suddenly tight throat, "I'm just waiting on Ajax for plant advice. He's babysitting a Dahlia for a friend of his and is worried it might be dying."

"A dahlia?" Larissa arched an eyebrow.

"Yes... why?" what was so curious about a boy caring for a flower to her?

She shrugged, "Nothing, just-" she paused, her fingertips pressing a bit as if gripping you lightly for a second, "their meaning, I imagine, but boys his age probably don't know these things anymore," she smiled dismissively.

She squeezed your shoulder softly again, eyes glinting a bit before saying, "Well, it's always lovely to run into you, dear," and leaned down to kiss your cheek, hand sliding from your shoulder to your chin as she held your face gently and pressed her lips right under your cheekbone.

She eyed the spot where her lips had been, probably because they left a mark redder than your blush, before smiling once again and leaving. Once she was out of view, you brought shaky fingertips to your warm face and suddenly you were doubling over with coughs; unstopping, burning things scorching your throat as blood springled your trousers and then, like it was just another product any coughing fit could conjure, there were two yellow petals, tinged half red in blood, laid on your lap.

"Professor...?" Ajax's voice caught your attention, and frankly people had to stop surprising you like this. You looked up to see terrified eyes staring at the stains on your lap. "Is everything alright?"

You definitely didn't feel alright. "Yes, it's just an inflammation or something," you pretended to dismiss it and he didn't seem too convinced, "Is this the child?" you pointed at a perfectly healthy dahlia.

"Yeah... I left it on the window this morning and it seems a lot better now." He shifted from foot to foot, "I brought her here just to confirm she's alright," he completed.

"She?" you couldn't help a smile. It was a joke when you said the child.

His face reddened a bit and it was amusing but mostly adorable how uncomfortable he suddenly seemed.

"Xavior and I have this thing that we talk about her like she is a person," he appeared to be immensely interested in her since he couldn't take his eyes off the plant to look at you while explaining, "We read on a website that plants can communicate with others and respond well to being praised and stuff so it because sort of a thing and-"

His words were coming more and more like undistinguished mumbles so you took pity on him and interrupted, saying "She's alright, Ajax. A healthy little girl as far as I can see, don't worry."

He visibly relaxed, deflating like a cloak of lead was sliding off his shoulders. He finally looked you in the face, still unsure and stealing glances at your lap.

"Thank you, prof." He nodded forcefully and marched quickly back inside.

The tricky thing was that you loved life, but you also loved Larissa, and you didn't want to stop doing either of those, even if they might terminate each other and you in the process.

Love is such a beautiful sentiment and dying from it was just your luck. If you could choose, in all honesty, you might have chosen to die exactly like this.

That didn't mean you were eager to do so. And that was why you decided to distance yourself from Larissa. You loved her, and you knew your love would only grow stronger and having her around did not help to keep you from diving deeper into the magnificent, all-encompassing feeling of completion that filled your heart and soul so absolutely it spilt.

In the first few weeks, she didn't seem to notice, but after your third refusal of a shared glass of red at her office she appeared at your door, concern written between her brows.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, dear, but I have the feeling I don't see you as much as I'd like this past few days and was wondering if something happened."

She had no business looking so caring and... worried, fretful.

You were still standing at the doorsill, feeling thin roots curl and clench inside your chest like anarchist veins looking for tissue to spread themselves onto when the thought occurred to you for the first time. Why can't she love me back?

It was nonsense. You knew her, you knew why, and of course your life was on the line and it mattered more than school rules or power dynamics but she was not looking for love. She made it clear not once, but several times when she'd repeat incessantly every time someone brought up the fact that she was single.

"I don't see why I need someone, Tish," or "I don't mind being alone, Vlad," and "No, dear, I don't feel incomplete, I have everything I ever wished for".

You hadn't had a problem with it before, but now, seeing her standing there, gloved hands clasped together in front of her elegantly but not fooling you at all. The air was charged, she was waiting for something; an invitation to enter, an explanation, reassurance. Her hands in front of her were not a sign of grace but an attempt at not fidgeting. She never fidgeted, you suspected she practised so much that now every time she felt uncomfortable she'd instinctively adopt certain poses that evoked control.

"Finals are coming soon," you said with no thought at all, and her brows furrowed deeper, "I mean... Preparation for finals," you tried to salvage, "I like to do a pre-review with smaller classes."

She clearly did not buy it but also didn't question you. Instead, her posture impossibly improved as she cleared her throat quietly, "Well, I'll leave you to your evening plans then," and she motioned to leave.

"Which-" you said quickly before she could go, she stood attentively, "I don't have," you said, voice breaking at the end as you felt petals clog up your windpipe.

Larissa smiled, surprised and clearly pleased, and you stepped out of the way so she could enter.

"Give me a moment," you whispered with what you hoped was an easy smile as you excused yourself to the bathroom.

As soon as you closed the door you tried your best to vomit, expel? Get rid of the petals slowly rising with as little sound as possible. If you coughed there was a chance Larissa would hear and ask questions. You weren't sure you could lie to her if she asked why you were coughing petals like you're the embodiment of spring. Even if she'd know the reason, you couldn't trust yourself not to tell it was because of her.

But you can't vomit something coming from your lungs, and there is no such thing as "gracefully letting a foreign solid thing leave travel through your respiratory system". You just grabbed a towel from the cabinet and muffled the screeches and choking and sobs on it.

After an unknown amount of time, a knock took you out of your breathing exercise to regain control.

"Is everything ok in there?" you weren't coughing anymore, but her small voice made you want to cry. Your face was still flushed from all the exertion and the tears brought by pain were still drying on your cheeks.

Your breathing quickened as dread and heartbreak occupied the emptiness left by bloody petals. You screamed without a sound, air leaving your throat, face twisted from grief. You'd die from loving her and you knew you would do so soon.

Larissa didn't wait for an answer much longer, and as she opened the door you curled into yourself, hiding the petals between your legs and chest, burying your face on your knees so she wouldn't see how ugly you looked when falling apart.

"Love, what happened?" she breathed, kneeling beside you without another word and taking you into her arms.

Why was she calling you love? Why did she have to do that? You were her friend, dear and darling and sometimes sweet. You weren't her love, you would never be and that was going to kill you. Why did she have to be affectionate when it cut you deeper than any cruelty ever could?

You couldn't make a sound, your throat could barely manage between you not breathing from all the muted crying and you scrambling for air when you realized more petals were coming as Larissa's smell filled the air, easily overpowering the flowers' while she hugged your body with one arm and kept the other around your shoulders, fingertips massaging your scalp under the crown of your head where she kept her face pressed.

This was so close to love. Why was it so hard to take that final step? You shared evenings together like a years-old couple, talked easily as if you'd spent a life together and not two years of acquaintanceship, you thought of her every second of every day, nurturing her in your heart and her rejection in your lungs.

You wished you could make her fall for you. You didn't mind before, and it wasn't the prospect of death that made you yearn for it so much now. You realized you were sick because it was too much. You had too much love inside of you and if she didn't want it there was nowhere it could go, no one to belong to, so it had to cease to exist, one way or another.

As your tight muscles started to tire and your body to fail, Larissa helped you to your bed. You were less than a person, more like the hollow ruins of a once beautiful castle that was now being conquered by nature, retaken, reclaimed.

When you stood and full flowers fell from your hiding place to the floor, you heard Larissa's surprised intake of breath. A few uncertain second passed as you looked down to the beautiful blooms you couldn't help but longingly admire, wishing them to finish you before Larissa continued to care for you like it wasn't just make it worse.

You were so drained she practically carried you across the room, laid you down on the bed and looked for the Nth time uncertain. After a few seconds she seemed to reach a conclusion and slid under the covers beside you, pulling you half conscious to her chest.

Before you completely blacked out, you heard her whisper, "I wish it was me."

The next day she wasn't there. When you woke up with very few memories of the night before, you had the sense that something was missing and as snippets of images and vague recollections started to pile up into a sequence of tortuously sweet moments, you had your worse fit of coughs that date.

That was it. You were done for. Larissa cared enough to wish to die in your place but not in the way that could save you.

You'd do anything for her but she simply couldn't do the one thing you needed from her. And it wasn't her fault, you knew she could try, hell she did try the night before for all you knew but it just was not possible. No one could force people into love and you wanted nothing of the sort. Even if you hungered for Larissa like a person starving to death you were happier knowing she would have a good life, everything she ever wished for, as she said, than being forever bound to you when she didn't want it.

You knew you didn't have long now, you weren't really coughing as flowers with the semblance of thin stems were lodged in your throat, so you fumbled desperately for something to write on while you still could.

When Larissa found you, she didn't see the paper, the tray with tea she'd gone prepare to wake you up with fell with no sound she could hear, the shattered porcelain not registering underneath the deafening white noise. She lifted your body from the floor beside the bed where you'd slipped off only to scream and let you fall onto the mattress as she saw glassed-over eyes.

She screamed and wailed and didn't notice the countless people rapidly entering and immediately leaving the room to look for help. The love of her life lay on a bed of flowers, yellow and red while their skin was almost translucent. Choked on the stems of what could be a small bouquet, blood slowly pooling beside their mouth.

"Dear Larissa, I hope you forgive the state I'm bound to be found, and that whoever has the misfortune of finding me has it in themselves to remind this scene as a terrible but miraculous love letter.

I loved you so much that it killed me.

Doesn't that sound nice? Maybe not nice, I'm dying so I don't have time to weight my words too carefully.

I'm writing this to thank you. Thank you for every time you smiled at me, talked to me, touched the back of my hand while handing me wine or made me nothing at all other than company.

Life was harder but infinitely sweeter while I was fortunate to love you. I am in love with you, and I hope after I'm dead I'll be able to still be. I know you'd be kind to the point of letting me haunt you, but I love you more than I can put into words and want you to forget this ever happened and be happy.

It's ok that you don't love me back, it's ok that I'm dead now, I died loving you and there is no other way I'd rather have died. If the price for feeling this deeply is death then you could say I chose to pay, even though I didn't. I know you wished it were you, but I was happy to pay.

If I coul"

Part of the unfinished sentence was covered by a dark stain, the rest was simply not written.

Larissa sobbed brokenly reading "I know you wished it were you," over and over, what she'd meant the night before was "I wish I was the one you love."

I listened to this while I wrote if you'd like to listen to some soft, nice music. As always, @alder-saan I hope you like it. Unless you don't want to read sad stuff which I completely understand

[a-aexotic]

hi!! can you do something with jj and this is me trying it right where you left me? love your work 💌

ren's notes hey baby, tysm! this fic broke my heart ong LMGAO, i hope u enjoy!!! 💞

pairing. jj maybank x fem!reader requested? yes no

warnings. mention of concussion, death, breaking up, just general angst 😭

summary. you fell in love with jj as soon as you caught his gaze, what happens when tragedy strikes and breaks you apart?

taglist. @eli-yeah @hallecarey1

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

When you first locked eyes with JJ Maybank, you knew he was your soulmate.

You remember the day you met him to this day, like it was just yesterday. You remember it was late August and you moved to OBX after your father had retired. He always wanted to live on the coastline and it was his dream to live there with his family. You weren’t rich by any means, so you got a small house on the Cut. 

You didn’t care about the size, as long as you were happy. You had just turned 15 and you had no friends in OBX. The late summer breeze was running through your air as you walked on the beach, no particular thoughts in your head. It was relaxing; all the stress from the past few months melted away under the strong Outer Banks sun. 

You remember walking on the beach and then hearing a loud shout. You whipped your head at the noise and suddenly, you were on the floor with a headache. You were hit with a football and your head hurt. You were dizzy and all you could hear was ringing and then you felt someone shake you awake. 

Your eyes opened and you locked eyes with a certain blonde whilst his friends was talking to you. 

And that was how you met JJ Maybank, he had gave you a concussion. Little did neither of you know, it was the start of your love story. 

He apologized profusely, offering to pay for your medical bill but you were fine. You’d gotten plenty of concussions before so it wasn’t anything new. After, JJ invited you on their boat as an apology and you accepted. That’s how you made your first friend in Outer Banks. 

The Pogues soon became your second family. There was never a second where you weren’t with any of them; Pope, John B or JJ (and soon, Kie) were always by your side. 

JJ was a different kind of family, though. Sure, John B was like an older brother and Pope gave good advice and Kie was your homework buddy, but JJ was different. He made you feel someway you had never felt before. He made you laugh until your stomach hurt and he comforted you when you cried over the stupidest things. 

His touch was soft and his gaze was even softer and more admiring as he looked at you. Only a fool wouldn’t see that he loved you. 

It was too much, too soon; he kissed you first and it only exceeded the more he spend time with you. Love at first sight only worked on screen and in books, it never worked in real life. Disaster soon struck. 

JJ loved you so much, he felt like he couldn’t breathe when he wasn’t with you. You were the first girl to see him as more than just a hook-up or a Pogue. You saw him as a soulmate, and you too. Nights spent in your arms made him feel like heaven was right here, with you. 

It was all pure ecstasy until your father had died. You became distant and you were overwhelmed with grief and it felt like there was no future without him. JJ couldn’t bare to leave you all alone but that was what you needed. After months of depression, your mother decided it was best to go back to your hometown. You had no choice but to leave JJ. 

You and JJ tried to make it long distance work but it was hard and eventually, you had given up. 

JJ was heartbroken but you were destroyed. The only thing keeping you alive was miles apart form you. It was a mutual breakup but you were the one to initiate it. 

JJ couldn’t believe you’d pulled the plug on them and he was angry for months until he realized maybe it was for the best. All first loves weren’t built to last but JJ was optimistic about you two; he could see a future with you. A good one, too: a nice house, little kids and a happy atmosphere. For once he didn’t see himself turn out like a deadbeat, living alone in his father’s house while all the Pogues had moved on. 

That was his future; he couldn’t run from it. Everyone had always seen how much better you were than him, you had a bright future and he was destined to stay in Outer Banks so of course it wouldn’t work. 

Years passed and JJ stayed heartbroken. Sure, he could hook up and date but he was never committed. It was strictly physical. 

You had moved on, JJ kept tabs on you on Instagram. You were happy, that’s all that mattered to JJ. 

JJ was okay with staying in Outer Banks for the rest of his life as long as you are happy. 

[ghostofskywalker]

Hi! Wishing you luck with the rest of your semester 💖

idk if I’m too late to send a request.. sorry

The idea of Cody and reader walking together in a meadow or like a garden together has been rotating in my head for a while. Anything along those lines would make me cry honestly— I know it’s a fairly vague idea but anything you write is always wonderful <3

Love you <3 have a nice day

thank you so much!! i hope you like this, i think i left a little bit of my soul in these words 🥺

words: 959

summary: while hiding away in the gardens of the jedi temple, you find a kindred spirit in the marshal commander of the GAR.

clone troopers masterlist

Two Souls, No Longer Lost

No matter what was happening in the rest of the galaxy, you could always count on the peacefulness and tranquility of the Jedi Temple gardens. Plants you could never name that hailed from planets you would never visit surrounded you as you sat down on the stones that marked a path around the space. Tucked away in this quiet corner of Coruscant, you had the permission of the galaxy to just exist for a few moments at a time, with nothing expected of you.

Working with the GAR was a rewarding way of life, because you enjoyed helping others, but there were times where you felt stifled, times when you wondered why you chosen to enlist in a war knowing that you would likely lose all of the soldiers that you had grown close to. Losing friends in battle never got easier, and you couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for the clones, who were not only losing friends but brothers, as they trudged on alongside their remaining family.  

No one knew that you liked to spend your time here. You were sure that the Jedi had to be able to sense you if they wanted to, and no one had told you to leave, so you weren’t worried about that aspect. You were sure that they had to know, or at least Master Yoda knew, especially since your visits to the gardens always lined up to when the 212th battalion was on leave. 

Now, sitting on the smooth stones that made up the paved path and staring at two small bugs as they climbed up the stem of a particularly bright and colorful flower, you wished your whole life could be like this, and that maybe you should see if the Jedi Temple would hire you as a permanent caretaker of the garden. 

You were so lost in thought that you barely registered the sound of someone saying your name, and it wasn’t until the third time that they spoke it did you turn. Commander Cody was standing in front of you, helmetless and having shed the top half of his armor. Leave was good for him, you immediately decided, as you noticed the way his smile looked just a little bit softer and his eyes a little less tired. 

“Cody!” you said, not able to hide the confusion from your face. “How did you find me?” 

“I wasn’t looking for you,” he admitted softly. “Is this where you disappear to every time we’re on leave?” 

You nodded, and Cody sat down beside you. The two of you stared for a few moments at those colorful flowers as they swayed through the air, and eventually you broke the silence. “If you weren’t looking for me, why are you here?” 

“I’m not sure honestly,” he said. “I was feeling overwhelmed at the barracks.”

“Well, here is a good place to just exist for a while,” you said. “I can take you on a tour of the garden if you’d like.”

Cody hummed softly. “Maybe in a little while,” he said. “Right now I’m happy where we are. Why do you sit on the ground and not on the bench right over there?” 

You laughed as you glanced back at the sturdy looking bench behind you. “I don’t know,” you said. “I just always have.” 

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and even though neither of you voiced your emotions, you knew that he was feeling the same things that you were. It had to be amplified for him, stuck fighting in a war that he didn’t get to choose to be a part of, to lead a battalion of his brothers knowing he was bringing some of them to their deaths. How hard it was to be the one that survives, especially when you feel that you don’t deserve to be the lucky one who lives to tell the tale. 

It started as a natural thing, the way you leaned your head on his shoulder, and he barely even questioned it. Although your relationship with the commander was never as close as it was apparently growing to be, you felt easily the most comfortable around him, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that wanted to kiss along the scar above his eye, to love him in a way that he deserved to be in a world that was free of war and hatred. 

You were just drifting off to sleep when you felt him gently tap your shoulder. “Do you want to take me on that tour of the gardens now?” he asked. 

The hopeful look in his eyes was not something you ever wanted to dim, so you nodded and the two of you stood up, hand in hand as you pulled yourselves off the ground. Stars, you wanted to hold his hand forever if he would let you.

You didn’t know what most of the plants around here were called, so you made up funny names and pretend facts about what planets they came from, and each time you made Cody smile you felt like the world got a little brighter. 

There was always hope, no matter how divided the galaxy became, no matter how much you wondered if you were truly doing the right thing. And for you, that hope’s name was Cody and he had the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard. 

Maybe one day the war would be over, and you could build a future with him. But that was a far flung hope intertwined with a unimaginable dream, and so these little moments walking hand in hand and admiring the flowers in the Jedi Temple Gardens had to be good enough for now. 

- the end -

[kissorkill16]

When We Were Once Happy: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: A story before Trinity moved to Raven Brooks.

Chapter 10

Nicky was just walking to his trellis when he heard a noise, he thought it was probably just the wind or a stray cat, but if it was either of those things, it would've been a softer shake.

Once he got to his trellis, he saw a yellow piece of paper, and on it said...

"The Raven Brooks woods at 12:00. Don't be late."

Who was this from?

"Little wolf, what is that?"

Nicky turned around to see his grandmother. "Bubba, hi. Um...this is just a note from my new friend.", he said.

Bubba stiffened at that, "Which friend?", she asked.

"I don't know, it doesn't say."

Bubba snatched the note away from Nicky and looked at it for a while, after that, she tore up the note and threw it behind her. "Don't go into the woods, young man."

"What? Why not?"

"Why not? Why not?! The woods are full of crows and ravens, and what have I told you about crows and ravens?"

Nicky crossed his arms and looked at his shoes. "They symbolize death."

"Exactly. So whoever told you to meet you in the woods, they can forget about it. Now go back inside."

"Yes, Bubba."

Nicky went back up to his room, but instead of laying down like he normally did, he opened the window and hesitantly jumped out. He saw Aaron do this once at the last hour of school yesterday, so he wanted to try it for himself.

He landed on his knees, but he was okay.

He started making his way to the woods, extremely confused. When he first saw the note, it just said to meet whoever in the woods, however, they never specified where. So here he was, alone in the woods, trying to figure out who left the note.

Nicky felt scared, despite it only being 12:09, it was really dark. How that made sense, Nicky didn't know. He just kept wandering around the woods.

This place reminded him so much of the nightmare he used to have, where he was only four years old, running around the woods in a panic, trying to find his grandmother because he left him there so he could try and find his way home.

"Bubba! Come back! Don't leave me here alone!", he kept crying out, but he got no answer. All that called back to him was an echo.

Nicky was startled out of his thoughts when he heard a bunch of crows caw from behind him. And by a bunch, I mean a whole murder.

Nicky wanted to scream, but it felt like something got caught in his throat, and with no warning, the crows came charging at him. Nicky started swatting them away, and as he did, he kept running. Where he was going, he didn't know.

He managed to outrun the crows, but he ended up tripping and falling down a hill, falling on his face.

"Holy shit, dude. You good?"

Nicky jolted upright when he heard that voice, the first thing he saw was Aaron. In the corner of his eye, he saw Lucy and Mya sitting on a picnic blanket. Aaron held out his hand, and Nicky took it and stood up.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thanks.", said Nicky. "Why are we in the woods?"

"Because there are too many eyes out there. If we did this out there, we'd get caught in an instant.", said Aaron.

"Aaron, could you please tell him what it is?", asked Lucy.

Aaron led Nicky to the picnic blanket, showing him a bunch of scraps, tools, springs, torn up machines, and dead phones. It was a beauty.

"Where did you get all of this?", asked Nicky.

"I've been collecting it, and saving it for a special occasion. This is that special occasion. I've been thinking about building machines to pull some pranks around town with it. You wanna help?", said Aaron.

"And you can take breaks by playing with me and Mya.", said Lucy. Mya nodded so fast, her head almost came off.

Nicky took out his phone and texted his mother "I'm hanging out with Aaron, I'll be back soon.", then he put his phone away and sat down on the picnic blanket, getting to work building their first prank machine.

[tigrensis]

Major Project: Stanpipe

I started creating my next LARP character, Stanpipe, in late 2021. He has had plenty of time to develop and be refined as my current character seems to be immune to death (I've been playing them for almost six years at this point). Stanpipe began as a thought, ‘I want to play a healer’, and has slowly been refined into the horrible little mushroom man he is today.

The costume, like the character, has gone through multiple iterations. I started by making a generic blanket cape, I hadn’t decided on the decay theme yet and instead, I was working on something simple to keep me warm at night. I embroidered dark blue blanket stitches around the edge and some beads on the edge worn around the neck. I also added some lavender embroidery to the front. I wanted to look non-threatening, I'm not a big fan of combat so I went with a softer look initially.

After a while I started to develop the idea of a mushroom-themed character, at events, I saw a lot of people making characters with mushroom aesthetics. These people were often going down the route of cute fey characters with fly agaric themed clothing. I like these costumes but they don’t appeal to me as something I'd wear. I’m not interested in representations of mushrooms that remove them from their context of decay and rot. I’m much more interested in a darker interpretation of a mushroom character. I have also completely flipped on the idea of looking non-threatening, I want to look scary, I want people to be nervous when I come to heal them, and I want to have fun whilst I'm doing it.

I settled on a core concept of a character who had once been a fey but had taken a nap in a forest one day. A few thousand years later he woke up, to find that he had been partially consumed by mushrooms, he had decayed whilst staying alive. There's a lot more I want to say about decay and how it relates to my identity and experiences. I would much rather give those thoughts a separate place to breathe.

The question of whether Stanpipe is the mushrooms, the original fey, or a mixture of both will never be answered. I want to leave this ambiguous for multiple reasons. The main reason is that there's no sense in having an overly written backstory as it does not impact what happens in the game, it can also be difficult to keep track of. Instead, I have a few key facts for my characters that I use to inform their actions and reactions.

My key facts for Stanpipe are:

He was a fey farmer in ancient history

He took a nap one day

He woke up like this

He knows nothing about anything

To match my costume to my character I ended up altering a straw boater and my already made blanket cloak. I used dried lichens that I had gathered after a storm to alter the hat and make it look taken over by nature. I'm still very happy with the hat and I’m looking forward to wearing it in character.

My blanket cloak I am less happy with my, I started by painting lichens onto the blanket using a mix of acrylic paints. I experimented a lot with texture and colour to varying degrees of success. Some of the lichens are too bright and I need to darken them in the future.

I also used real lichens on the shoulders with mushrooms sculpted out of clay. It looks nice in pictures but I quickly found that the lichens, which were living in this case, were difficult to maintain and would be extremely fragile when worn. This fragility would be made even worse by the fact that the LARP I attend is a boffer system meaning that I’d need to be able to move quickly and take hits. For now, I’ve decided to take off the lichens and mushrooms and will re-use them on other, more stable, projects.

To complete this costume there are still a few things left to do, I need to make shirts and trousers. The trousers are almost complete, they just need a waistband (I think I’ll turn the trousers into a separate post because I like them so much). Normally I would use one of the shirts I already own but because Stanpipe is decay-themed I want to be able to break down the shirts and make them look old and rotted. I wouldn’t want to do that to something that wasn’t built for it. It also means that I can make them look however I want, it can be hard sometimes to find a LARP kit that fits me well so I don’t want to buy something that does and then restrict it to being used by just one character.

I’m also starting on making some vests for the character to wear which I am going to go for it with the breakdown. One will be made of scuba suede which is a thick stretchy synthetic fabric with a pile. The other will be knitted from alpaca wool and will have tufts of felting wool knitted into it as I go, the goal is to create a mossy appearance. I’m going to be experimenting with growing plant life on them to see what sort of damage the root system does. I'm expecting some sort of staining at the least however I am currently sceptical about whether any damage will occur to the scuba suede because of how thick it is.

Here are some work-in-progress images from the trousers and the vests.

[gerec]

AU-gust 2023

17. Fallen Angel

Pairing(s): Cherik Warnings: N/A

This is a prequel to the Angels & Demons AU I wrote for AU-gust 2020. Loosely inspired by John Constantine.

--------

The next time Erik sees Charles at the Hellfire, he’s sitting in one of the VIP booths, flanked on either side by half-breeds Mystique and Azazel. He’s got his mouth on a pretty human girl’s neck, licking – no sucking – the salt off her skin, then takes a tequila shot and kisses her deeply, sharing the taste. The red headed boy on the other side – just as scantily clad, and just as drunk or high as the blonde – whines at being left out, so he repeats the performance, only this time having the boy drink the shot and sucking it straight from his mouth.

He's nothing at all like the Charles he met three weeks ago at the club, when Erik had been there, despondent and drowning his sorrows. No – that Charles was just as unearthly beautiful yes, but nothing so decadent and gauche; a kind soul that had known just the right thing to say and do to capture Erik’s undivided attention. He’d let himself fall for honeyed words from blood-red lips; let himself get lost in sky-blue eyes and forget all about revenge, and death, and Sebastian Shaw…

At least for one night.

Logan’s never going to let him live it down, that he’d inadvertently taken up with the Devil himself.

Azazel grins as Erik approaches, his red eyes sparkling with mirth; no doubt he knows all about Erik’s epic blunder and is expecting to witness some sort of confrontation. They’ve worked together before, when he’s needed a certain type of expertise hunting particularly difficult demons, and he’s about as friendly as one can be as a half-human, half-demon spawn. But Erik never ever forgets what Azazel is and what he can do, no matter how many late nights and bottles of vodka they’ve shared together at the Hellfire.

Tonight however, it’s Mystique he has to worry about, her yellow eyes narrowing when Erik comes up to the booth. She’s half-human, half-angel born, though if you ask Erik, she’s the more lethal one of Charles’ two companions by far.

“That’s close enough Lehnsherr.”

“Erik!” Charles says with a delighted laugh, as though he’s surprised to see Erik, as if he didn’t know every thought and every move Erik has and will ever make. Now that Erik is looking – really looking at Charles with his preternatural sight – he can practically see the power that emanates even from his human form. “How lovely to see you again! Won’t you join us?”

“Can we talk alone? I have a proposition for you.”

Charles’ grin turns sly, and in the blink of an eye they are no longer on the club floor, appearing inside a luxurious bedroom suite with a bird’s eye view of the city below. If there was ever any doubt in his mind that Charles wasn’t a full-blooded demon it’s gone now, and Erik’s resolve solidifies in his gut as he takes the flute of champagne offered with a flinty smile.

“Now then, why don’t you tell me what you want, Erik,” Charles purrs, taking a seat on the king-sized bed. He takes a slow sip from his own glass and smirks, and fuck if Erik’s cock doesn’t twitch even knowing what’s under that pretty façade. “A proposition, you say?”

“You know what I want.”

“I do,” Charles agrees, leaning forward to take his hand. Erik lets himself be guided to sit on the bed, though he keeps a sliver of distance between them, futile as it may be. “But you have to ask me, darling. Or the deal’s not done.”

Erik chugs the glass of champagne and exhales a weary sigh. “I want Shaw dead. And I want to be the one to destroy him.”

Charles hums a little and smiles, something softer – more deceitful – as though he knows how much it’s costing Erik to ask for his help. “What are you offering in return?”

“A soul for a soul,” he answers without hesitation. Shaw has proven too powerful for Erik to handle on his own, and he can’t – won’t – ever stop until he tears him limb from limb for what he did to his family. “My soul for eternity, if you annihilate Sebastian Shaw.”

“Do you understand what you’re asking, Erik?” Charles says, and Erik would think he’s truly concerned for him if the thought a demon capable of real feelings for a human. “The deal is binding whether or not you believe in the existence of Heaven or Hell. If I give you what you want, you belong to me.”

“Yes.” He pulls Charles close and kisses him hard, willing him to read Erik’s determination and resolve. “Take me. I’m yours.”

Charles softens the kiss, caressing Erik’s face with his fingers before pushing him down on the bed. “Splendid,” he answers, “I accept.”

[sim-ply-lilacs]

Not wanting to disturb the funeral guests with their happiness (and feeling rather guilty for the joy they felt in spite of their own deep sorrow), Bea and Josef elected to stroll through the garden a while before returning.

They chatted over the innumerable logistics necessary to sort through before they could be wed. People would talk horribly, of course, but the nature of the debts in desperate need of repayment obligated a wedding as soon as the banns could be read.

"But talk will die down eventually, my Bea. Those who love us will know the truth—that we would have waited long enough for the mourning period to end if we were able, and that it will always grieve us that your dear father could not join us, ja?" Josef promised with a comforting pat on the arm, "And then it will be the two of us on the farm, and we will be away from all of this."

Beatrice attempted a wan smile, but her features instead fell into an expression of discomfiture.

"You know I would *love* for it to be just the two of us, Josef," she began slowly, worry staining her tone like juice from a rotten cherry on a white pinafore, "but, you see, Mother has nowhere to go. She mortgaged the house to try and take care of Father while he was ill, and she has no living relations who would let her live with them—at least not in Brindleton—and it would positively kill Mother to leave the Bay. She has lived here all her life, you see. Mother's father's father opened the first general store on the island, and it is already breaking her heart to leave the home she first came to as a bride that I couldn't consider asking her to go any farther."

"And, well, after losing Father so recently I couldn't stand to be parted from her yet. So, you see, if I am to be wed, then Mother must come along wherever I go."

Josef nodded solemnly. His forehead crinkled in thought. As he opened his mouth to speak, Bea braced herself for his dismissal—for, what young man would take on both a wife who brought no more than a handful of books, a few trinkets, and a knitting basket into her marriage as well as her grieving, aged mother?

Beatrice had already begun steeling herself to hand back the dear little ring she already loved and inquire once again if the Landgraab manor had any openings for scullery maids when Josef seemed to settle something for himself with a sigh. "I think it will be at least until the next harvest before we can afford to add onto the house. Do you think your mother will mind the spare room for now? It is comfortable enough but very basic. As is the rest of the farm, if I think too long about it," he chuckled to himself with a not pitiful sense of self-deprecation.

Bea pulled back in shock. "You mean...you mean you are agreeable to having my mother live with us? Truly?"

Josef pulled her close. "But of course," he assured. "Your mother is always welcome wherever we are. Bea, I mean for the farm to be a home to you. You will have just as much say over the running of things as I do."

"I mean it when I say I love you. Your happiness means much to me, my Bea."

Oh, how she loved the way he said her name. It was not the buzzy "Beee" that most used as a nickname for her. His accent hummed a richer, softer "Bay-uh" as it called to her, like a long-forgotten ancient word of prayer. Bea leaned in as close as propriety allowed.

"The I will be very happy with you, indeed. I could never have a man who would treat Mother with unkindness, or myself for that matter. You are a very good man, Josef Moody," she whispered warmly.

"This, I think, does not make me very good, but only very decent. But for you, Bea, I will always strive for good."

Sometime later, after all the funeral guests had dispersed and Josef left with a promise to inform the priest at St. Bonaventure's of their intention to marry, Beatrice slipped up to the porch to find her mother. Madeleine's weariness and grief had blinded her to most things, lately. Her beloved husband had been her very life and his death had shattered her. The first days after his death had passed in a haze of tears, sleeplessness, and funeral preparations.

Her grief did not hide from her her only child's starry eyes. Nothing could have.

"My dear," Madeleine approached, hesitation lacing her voice, "are you quite alright?" Madeleine had heard tell of the brilliant hectic flush that seemed to singularly affect consumptive young women. If–if Beatrice had contracted the disease which had taken her father—

"Oh, Mama! I am more than alright. You see," Bea blushed deeper, and Madeleine was gratified to find the flush was only a natural, maidenly one, "you see I have seen Josef Moody. He has asked me to be his wife, and for the two of us to come and live with him...and I have accepted."

"Oh!" Madeleine cried, "Oh, my dear, how wonderful! And he will take me as well? Then he is an honorable man indeed."

Madeleine's cheer was interrupted by a horrifying thought. "You–you haven't done this because of me, have you? We can figure out something else, Trixie. You don't have to marry him if you don't want to."

"No, Mama," Bea shook her head, "It's not like that. Mama, I-I love him."

"Then I am happy for you, darling girl. I can only hope you will be as happy with your Josef as I was with your papa. Come here, let your mother congratulate you."

And as she accepted her mother's well wishes, Beatrice thought back on that afternoon and decided that if the beginning of the relationship was anything to go by, she would be happy indeed.

Prev ~ Next ~ Beginning

[notoyax17]

Small moments in the MCU that STICK with you

I remember there was a thread on reddit about the small moments in the MCU that impacted you the most. For me that moment was the scene in the first Avengers movie where Tony flies through the portal and sees Thanos' fleet as he lets go of the nuke.

And just stares at it.

And in every movie Tony Stark appeared in since then, it's easy to get the sense that, in the background (or foreground) of Tony's mind there's just that constant sense of existential dread.

The MCU hand waves a lot of stuff, and I don't even think they meant to play this storyline as well as they did later on, but it made for interesting contrasts between Tony and the other Avengers.

The Avengers, both as individuals and as a group are very NOW focused. Their job is to avenge after all; to solve a problem in progress or to right a wrong committed after the fact. And up until that movie, Tony was like that too, even if he occasionally turned to handling things like legacy, it just wasn't his primary focus.

And then the invasion happened, the writing was on the wall, and it suddenly seemed hard for him to focus on the here and now (the foreground in your vision) when there was something big and glaring going to happen in the future (the background/distance).

It guides his decisions in the next several movies.

And it aches, a little, to know that he spent half a decade essentially screaming the truth into the void, knowing that no one truly believed him, wouldn't see what he thought was so obvious until it was too late.

But the thing that interests me the most, is how Tony handles the aftermath of what is essentially the apocalypse in Endgame. Tony is the only one to actually be a peace, more or less, after that 5 year time skip.

Bruce is happy, but quick to jump at the chance to change things.

Steve and Natasha are struggling to be okay and are more or less going through the motions.

Clint and Thor are both lost and unable to move on in very different ways.

I always got the impression that it was easier for Tony to move forward not because he was a futurist or because he hadn't lost "enough" but because, well...

It wasn't as bad as he was expecting it to be.

Infinity War's ending gave us a much softer apocalypse than the visions/dreams of what Tony expected to happen. No one was enslaved, the deaths were relatively pain free, the majority of the world didn't see it coming and didn't have to sit through hours/days of fighting and fear like you would through a war or a storm. It just happened and then that was it. Everyone was affected and the world was, for now, united in its grief.

It was like finally going through something that the mere thought of has scared you for so long only to realize that, yes... I can survive this.

And Tony is, more than anything else, a survivor. He takes the changes as they come, makes them manageable and continues moving on. Like being captured for months, having an electromagnet in his chest, making major changes in his company, nearly dying several times, losing and/or killing loved ones and so on. That is not to say that he handles them with ease or very well every single time. But the moment he does decide that "this is just how it is," Tony tends to buck up and get on board fully.

Natasha comes the closest to being able to handle major changes in her life that well and even then, it's more like she faking it until she makes it as opposed to fully absorbing the changes as the new normal.

Half of everyone died, but close to half of everyone was still left. The world was still spinning and as long as that remained the case, things were manageable... fixable. So he fixed what he could and went on in the new normal.

He's had years to grieve the end of the world before anyone else even knew it was coming, after all.

[breserker]

small change in plans, pushing off chapter 1 of book 1 for sharing an Extremely WIP part from late in book 2. roughest draft, some transitions are stilted and there are references to things earlier in the book that might feel out of place, omitted paragraphs, etc etc.

major cw for discussions of death and grief, and us-mexico border wall things

~~

They walked. For once Vel didn’t fill the space with words, not even mundane ones. Every now and then though he’d raise a knuckle and tap the fence, following the ringing tones of the beating hearts that passed through the borders. One after the other. Many frightened, some of them hopeful, with papers or without. Before TUSD had ripped Mexican-American history from the curriculum he remembered seeing old maps of the US-Mexico border. The line they followed, the wall they kept to their west, had not always been a border. So too did he have skin that didn’t used to have scars. Pushing further back he wondered if there were borders no living person remembered; territorial disputes, trade routes, throngs of families traveling the land towards pueblos across all seasons. What that made of the earth they set their feet on now, Vel didn’t know. He felt wistful, melancholy. Confused, yet too muffled to express that confusion.

The Santa Cruz River used to be louder. It was something he felt more than knew, gazing over at the struggling riverbed. Supposedly Pima County was working to help restore it with treated wastewater. He hoped that’d be enough. A jackrabbit could swim in it now, but not so camouflaged, not so part of the river as before. Still he paced the old bank where buds of thick grass held the memory of the river’s original breadth.

“My mother was accused of being a witch, you know.” Vel said, knowing Lieu was there but speaking as though it was just him and the pages of a diary.

“I know.” Lieu confirmed.

“She taught me a lot of things that I’m not sure was magic or spiritual, religious or witchy, I don’t know.”

“How did that work?” she asked him. Vel pursed his lips, thinking hard.

“I don’t think it was half as much what she said so much as how she thought about things. It wasn’t that she passed down water has memory, spit in a hand and make a lens to see into someone’s memories.” he heard Lieu’s breath short at the unexpected pull of their shared memory, not discussed since it happened, “It was more. Here’s a way you can see the world. Like uh, building blocks. Not quite. Molecules of atoms? I don’t know. But like a bad present, it’s the thought that counts, rather than the material the present is made out of.”

Lieu didn’t respond to any of that, and he supposed he wouldn’t have a response either.

“I miss her.” he said bluntly. A chunk of grass dried from the recessed reach of the river gave way under the toe of his boot and he retreated it just enough to watch it crumble into the smoothed sand of the old riverbed, “I wanted Laura to meet her so badly.”

Lieu was silent, enough that he’d call it out of respect even though it was more likely she just knew there was nothing to say.

“She always seemed to know what to do,” Vel continued, “Meanwhile I don’t know a goddamn thing. And sometimes I feel like that gets people...well. It’s not enough to save them.” This time he pressed his boot into the sand just beneath the bank, finding it softer than he expected, the texture clay-like from dampness he hadn’t realized was there. Perhaps the river was growing back, even if only from concerted effort. But it didn’t feel like enough.

“Every now and then I get so angry at her for dying. Uncontrollably. How could she leave me alone? I’m so angry, I love her so much, and she left me alone with so little to have.” Red water splashed against the leather of his boots, lapping higher up his shins as he waded into the river, “Magic that I believe in but doesn’t make me feel powerful. One language less than I should have. People to lose. What’s one more, anyway?”

He tilted his head to the side, not quite glancing over his shoulder but enough to let Lieu know he wasn’t a lost cause. She remained rooted on the bank, watching as water ate up his legs but never became a threat to his height. The last words he had ever said to his mother were I don’t care. It was in response to being asked to clean his messy room. She had told him to do it, otherwise his titiritero will yank his strings tight and his limbs won’t move again. (Tetanus, he deduced later in life.) Vel had rolled his eyes, his father’s eyes, told her he didn’t care, and left the house to explore. It had been dark by the time he had returned, water bottle and stomach empty. Her body was there, but she was gone.

Then Sebbie. Now Laura. Vel raised a foot out of the water, watching it drip off his heel before reaching for the far bank.

The trail to his mother’s killer had gone cold. Any and all clues were walled off to him by rusty red bars. Why search for the person who killed a woman without documents to prove she lived there, lived anywhere? In the eyes of the wall-builders, it was the universe righting itself, like water leveling out between two containers. Even her own sister didn’t seem concerned with finding who did it. By this point Vel lived by building his own peace with it.

Not that it was easy. Not that he felt like he had done it at all. But at the same time he had no idea how to be anybody else. To live with another person’s life and history felt impossible, because everywhere he turned—English speakers, Spanish speakers, queer spaces, coworkers, neighbors, something felt off. Something always set him apart. One piece of his puzzle would fit with one group but not another, and there was never a place where all his pieces could fit together. Always, always, always there was the rusty red wall cutting right through him.

Vel sat on the bank opposite Lieu, facing the border wall. Not long after he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Who would he have been if he was on the other side? If his mother hadn’t fled, hadn’t had reason to flee—if he spoke fluent Spanish and broken English, if he’d never met Dom and Sebbie, if he had never fallen for Laura. There’d be others in their spaces, certainly. Vel wanted to know who they would’ve been. Would he have lost them all the same, or would they have stayed in his life? In his wildest dreams his mother lived on the other side of that wall, content and unafraid. Maybe even his father was there too, though he didn’t want to be selfish. He only wanted to be whole, and the grass looked so much greener on the other side.

But he had decided long ago not to abandon a home half-built, and until Laura came back from the dead it was destined to forever be half-built. For as much as his heart ached an ancient pain looking at the wall, Tucson was the home of his body and his blood. Blood he held in his hands. Blood spilled by his mother, his best friend, and his lover, all soaking the earth, all staining the land with his handprints on their cold bodies.

“I miss them so much.” he said aloud. Lieu heard it even if it was distant, likely heard it like he had said it into her ear. His body spoke it as much as his voice did. From across the riverbank she spoke, emotionlessness cracked with concern.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Vel shrugged, taking another drag of the cigarette, “No other way to be.” No other way he knew how to be. Lieu stood and watched him smoke, the sun dipping overhead, soon to be something redder and purpler than before. Vel gazed out, disappearing from the present moment. So too did the wall, just for a mere miraculous moment. He wasn’t fooled, knowing it was there, knowing that by now it would be there for years to come even if he tore it down right here and now. Vel pressed a hand to his chest and rubbed it, feeling the fabric catch on Saint Sebastian’s blunt scars. There, visible for everyone to see if they got close enough to look. There, even if they completely healed over, in Vel’s mind forever.

He snuffed the cigarette in the riverbank, bending to pick it up soon after even though the guilt of leaving it behind still took hold. Lieu watched him wade back across, and they followed the wall back to their cars.

“Ah, shit,” Vel swore. A border patrol SUV was wedged between their two cars with an officer closely inspecting them. Falling behind Lieu, Vel all but pushed her ahead to cover him. He could still smell the vinegar on the back of his neck, but in hindsight that meant its warding followed him and did nothing for his car.

“Hello,” the officer greeted, friendly in a way that was heavily guarded, however they pulled that paradox off, “These vehicles belong to you folks?”

“Yes.” Lieu answered flatly, pulling out her badge when they were close enough for him to see it. Vel stayed silent, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle to busy himself with hydration instead of talk.

“Tucson,” the officer whistled, “What are you doing way down here?”

“He wanted to see the border wall.”

“Did he, now?” the officer’s eyes wandered over to him. Goddammit Lieu.

“My mom remembered when it was just a chain link fence. Wanted to see how much it changed.”

It was unclear if the officer was buying it or not, catching the unspoken truths in the smaller one, “Didn’t bring her along with?”

“Oh I did. Was spreading her ashes.” Vel said casually, shaking his water bottle that was very clearly full of liquid. At this the officer raised an eyebrow quizzically, and Vel took small joys in seeing the wheels turn as to how the ashes had been transported and where the water came from. Hell, he wouldn’t even mind if the officer wondered if he drank the ashes and pissed them out. What food for thought. Why not piss on the fence anyway, and rot it from the blood-soaked earth up?

He bit his tongue. This was why he brought Lieu along.

“Strange place to be spreading ashes.” the officer commented.

“She was a strange woman.” Vel said, meant that to be it, then couldn’t help himself from adding, “I loved her.”

For once, that seemed to help his case. The officer gazed at him, then looked back at Lieu’s badge. Lieu gave a single nod in support of his words, and the officer did not know them well enough to know that she only supported half his words half the time. An air of suspicion still surrounded the officer, but he packed it away for if they were repeat offenders and let them go.

Vel paused before getting in his car, giving the border wall one last look. Lieu spoke freely then, and he caught the disbelief in her voice. Disbelief that he wanted to be here at all, unable to understand why it could’ve been important.

“Did it help?”

Once more, Vel shrugged, “I think I would’ve regretted it if I didn’t come down here.”

Lieu did not understand and he knew it. But it was answer enough, and they got into their cars to leave.

[mayhem24-7forever]

hiiiiii😘💓

😈 🛠🍦 🌞 ❌ 👀

hello! thank you so much for sending this ask! I’ll be so honest, the username change threw me off for a second but I am SO GLAD you messaged! ily 💕

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

I try not to be too mean bc I am a baby who cannot handle unhappy endings BUT I will say that my whumptober Rhett fic The Littlest Cowgirl and the Mean Old Bull (x) was almost completely made just from angsty things I said in the Top Gun server to torment my friends. 😂

🛠️ What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

I used to use Pages but now I prefer to use Google Docs because it’s so much easier to share with friends to beta read/leave comments

🍦What’s the sweetest fic you’ve created so far?

Oof this is a hard one but probably the ongoing Time is Running Out series (x) because although there are some steamy moments I really, really enjoyed getting to write a softer side of my favorite cocky asshole Jake “Hangman” Seresin from Top Gun: Maverick.

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Late at night, usually so late that it’s far into the next morning because I am a night owl with no self control 😂

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

In terms of kinks: incest, underage, anything with water sports/scat

In terms of general tropes: I never say never but I’m not really a huge fan of doing unhappy endings like major character deaths and so having a fic end unhappily probably means the apocalypse is upon us and/or I have been replaced by an evil replacement and/or a cry for emotional help.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

SHAN I PROMISE I AM STILL WORKING ON THE STEVE HARRINGTON X READER X EDDIE MUNSON FIC “NEED YOU TONIGHT” FOR YOU! I know it has been AGES and you have the patience of a saint so here’s a fun little sneaky peeky for anyone who’s interested:

Eddie downed what was left of the almost empty bottle and put it down as he pushed off the wall to join Steve in the kitchen area. Steve put the pizza on the counter, took off his sunglasses, and was sticking the beers in the fridge when Eddie walked in.

“We need to talk, Harrington.” Eddie hissed lowly.

“Yes, her ass felt spectacular.” Steve replied with a smirk.

“No, Harrington. I’m serious.” Eddie shot back.

“Me too.” Steve said with a chuckle and Eddie grumbled, leaning in closer.

“Dude, I’m losing my fucking mind right now.” He said as Steve finished putting the beers in the fridge and stood up to look at Eddie properly. “If I watch her dance like that any longer, I’ll be cumming in my jeans. We have to do something.”

“Munson, we agreed that if anything with her is gonna happen for either of us, she’s gotta be the one to start it. We can flirt as much as we want, but no matter how sexy she is, or how much we want her, we can’t be the ones to make the first move. We agreed, man!” Steve replied, popping the top off of a beer bottle and taking a swig.

“Harrington, fucking look at her right now.” Eddie hissed, swiping the bottle from Steve’s hand and taking a large swig.

Steve sighed, grabbing another bottle and popping the top off before peeking his head around the kitchen cabinets to look into the living room.

He watched her dance for thirty seconds or so and then turned back to Eddie, adjusting the front of his pants awkwardly. “Yeah, we need to figure this out—and fast! I can’t look at her in that top all night and not ask her to fuck me. One of us needs to drop out.” The pair silently looked at one another, waiting for the other to just give up but neither of them said a word.

Thank you so so much for sending these in! I had so much fun! I love you bb 💕

[sweetmage]

SebastianxBethany -or- CarverxMerrill

Hi! Sorry for the late response! Well, late for me anyway, I guess it's still the same day😅

For Seb/Bethany... I don't actually ship this personally. I would try to answer the questions anyway for fun, but unfortunately I don't know Bethany very well/have never seen them together other than skimming their banters on the wiki so I don't think I can't add much😅No shame to them at all though, I have seen some of their banters and they definitely got some little thang going on!!! As for Merrill/Carver... I like them a lot 😌

when I started shipping it if I did: This was my first DA2 ship. I was sad when Carver left (and even sadder that he became a templar in my playthrough, like come on...), I wanted to see more of him and Merrill!!!!

my thoughts: I think they are very awkward and cute, love how flustered he gets around her. It's also really sweet to see the softer side of him.

What makes me happy about them: Same as above! Also height difference. They're also just very funny, I loved that she thought everything he said was an innuendo when he was being more wholesome than Hawke could ever hope to be when flirting with her. She also doesn't pick on him or antagonize him the way the other characters seem to!

What makes me sad about them: They get separated from each other no matter what (wardens, templars, or death), but I would imagine him becoming a templar in my playthrough kinda puts a huge wedge in things, I don't really see them coming back from that tbh 😅 Though perhaps there is something juicy in the heartbreak/betrayal of it ending in that way. And Warden Carver is a whole other can of worms...

things done in fanfic that annoys me: I have never read a fanfic about them. However, I do not like when any fic infantilizes Merrill or has a non-mage step in to save the day because she "doesn't know what she's doing" or whatever so I would dislike that here too.

things I look for in fanfic: I think I'd only prefer to read fluffy things about them, personally. Especially her worrying over a warden Carver, especially in a canon where one of her clanmates became the HoF so she'd have that personal experience to strengthen her concern for him. Not to mention the general issues with maintaining a relationship while being a warden, etc. I'd love to see them navigate that. I'm sure there's a million fics about that, I just don't read fics often so I'll have to look some other time😅

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I also ship Carver with an unnamed male warden I just mentioned offhand in a fic once and I ship Merrill with Isabela, my m!blood mage Hawke, sometimes with my dalish circle mage/blood mage El'la as a QPP. I also sometimes ship her in an OT3 with Tamlen (who survived) and my dalish warden Savil. I also love her having some sorta deep platonic thing going on with my canon Hawke and Anders post-canon. Same with her and Sebastian being deeply close besties. (Merrill is my favorite DA character so I think about her with everyone, she has such good chemistry with so many people)

My happily ever after for them: I think it might be asking a lot for them to ever have a normal, quiet life but I'd at least like them write to each other frequently and find times to meet whenever they can, even if only just to chat and steal a smooch for a few minutes as he's passing through.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Carver as the little spoon is funny to me because he is so Large so I am kinda digging it. There is also something cute about the safety and security of being wrapped comfortably in her arms after many months away experiencing The Horrors. Not to mention post-nightmare too. He seems to take the whole Warden thing really well, but I can't imagine it isn't at least somewhat taxing.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Just catching up and sharing funny anecdotes, exchanging gifts perhaps. When they live such different lives that don't allow for much normalcy I could imagine it might be nice just to relax and enjoy each other's company peacefully for a while 💗

[books]

Tumblr Exclusive: Forestborn

Do you like shapeshifters, epic quests, magic, dark forests, and obstinate princes? Well, have we got an exclusive excerpt for you!

Forestborn is an upcoming @torteen novel by debut author Elayne Audrey Becker. Becker graduated from Vassar College with a BA in classics and history. She is currently continuing her education at the University of Aberdeen in Scotland after time spent as an editor with a New York publisher. She grew up with a lake and woods as her backyard, spending long days outside and visiting national parks with her family.

Forestborn will be available at bookstores everywhere from August 31. Read the exclusive excerpt below, and thanks again to Elayne for sharing her inspiration moodboard with us!

Forestborn By Elayne Audrey Becker

One

I find her deep in the Old Forest, facedown in the dirt. 

Sharp pain needles my palms where I’ve balled my fists so tight, the nails have carved half-moon marks into the skin. Snaking across the twig-strewn ground, gnarled roots press against my boots like a warning as I roll the young woman onto her back. Best to be sure.

No, she is certainly dead. Cold, stiff, and hungry like the rest; even with forest debris masking much of her shirt, the threadbare cotton dips in unmistakable rivulets across her bony frame. I swallow my disappointment and push her eyelids shut, wanting to spare her kin the sight of those empty, pointless eyes.

“Sorry,” I murmur, sitting back on my heels. “I’m guessing you didn’t deserve this.”

Around us, the trees lean inward and down with ominous uniformity, leaves and branches straining against their holds, drawn to the dead woman as if tethered by ropes. The sway, the humans call it. I ignore the prickling in my belly. They’ll straighten out soon enough when the magic leaves her body. 

With a final nod, I push to my feet and wend my way back to the forest’s edge. It’s a close wood, with broad oaks in summer bloom crowding the grassy floor, their leafy canopy admitting shafts of sunlight that glitter like crystal chandeliers. All in all, too peaceful a setting for someone driven to madness to die alone. I breathe it in deep to savor the scent while I can, grateful that for whatever reason, these trees never seem drawn to the magic in my own blood. I’ve had enough of vengeful wilderness to last a lifetime.

“Well?” Seraline asks, her knuckles nearly white where they clutch the hem of her shirt. 

I shake my head. “Dead.”

Her shoulders sink. Though Seraline is sturdy as iron when she’s in her aunt’s tannery, shaping leather into draft horses’ yokes, standing a determined two paces behind the tree line now, she seems shakeable as snow.

“Come on,” I say, nodding to the stony town just across the open fields. “You’re going to be late.” I don’t ask if she plans to examine the body for herself. Seraline may have insisted on coming as a show of support, but our friendship has many limits, her discomfort with the dead and dying the least of them. 

After a brief hesitation, Seraline falls into step at my side, sweeping her seeing stick across the ground in broad strokes. “Poor thing.”

I nod, my jaw clenched tight. 

This time of year, the late summer air hangs heavy even in the early morning, enough that the back of my neck is already slick with sweat. The barley fields remain mercifully empty as we pick our way through the dusty rows, but still I plow forward with my head down and shoulders bent, half from habit and half spurred by the hour. Seraline isn’t the only one who’s running behind. 

“Will you not come with us?” she asks, her head tipping to the side as we near the town. “Aren’t you due back in Roanin, anyway?”

“I can’t,” I reply, making it sound like an apology. I’m not really sure why we still play this game when we both know it’s futile. “I have a few things to take care of first.”

“Today of all days,” she snorts.

“You know how it is.” In truth, I’d give my right arm to stay away from the capital today. But there’s no help for it.

“Her husband deserves to know,” Seraline adds after a while. “The two of them were inseparable.”

“He will know. The trail wasn’t hard to follow.”

Seraline is always trying to persuade me to talk to the deceased’s families. She believes I have a softer manner than many in uniform, and once she even called me heartless for refusing. That time hurt the most. But it isn’t my job to report any deaths I uncover to next of kin. Only to the king. And it’s not like she’s stepping up to volunteer, anyway.

Briarwend is a humble farming town that stretches all of three streets, a collection of squared off stone shops that deal in necessity rather than charm. Its weather-worn residents are the same. When I began seeking intel here four years ago, long days tending the surrounding fields made the people lazy and open over a couple of pints. Lately, they’re just hungry, poor soil and rising taxes leaving gaping holes that only tempers seem to fill. 

Each night under dwindling lamplight and over stained, sticky tables, the pub dwellers deal out anger and judgment like tossing seeds across the earth. The battered forest walker I helped home last night is not the only magical person I’ve found bleeding on cobbled streets. The humans’ anger is growing fists.

Seraline’s family is fixing their horse’s harness to an old wooden cart when we reach their cottage home. Most others have long since departed.

“Where have you been?” her mother demands, tightening the leather straps. The roan mare stamps a hoof, ears flicking nervously in my presence. “We should have left hours ago!”

“Lela needed my help. And you’re not ready, anyway.” Seraline shrugs.

“Nor are you. Breakfast is gone, so you’ll just have to wait. Go get changed.” She studiously avoids my eye, as if I’m not even there. 

Seraline bids me farewell with a light touch on the shoulder, which causes her little sister to quickly interlace two pairs of twisted fingers and pull them apart. The sign to ward off bad fortune.  

“You shouldn’t indulge my sister,” the dreadful Arden says once she’s gone, stomping over and swiping a greasy hand across his forehead. By far the weakest sibling in this family of four. “Seraline is delicate. She can’t be tramping about the kingdom with the likes of you.”

Which is ironic, really, since he was eager enough to sidle close last year, when he thought empty flattery might earn him a kiss. That was before a too-often empty belly soured his tongue, before he learned who and what I was. And though I truly could not care less what this boy thinks, I’m dismayed to find my stomach still burns with anger and something close to shame. My gaze drops to his pant leg, which bears splotches of dried blood from the night before. 

“Problem?” Arden sneers, white skin burned red from long days in the sun. 

A slow tingling feeling bubbles up from my core, threads of numbness that tiptoe across my arms and legs. I force myself to breathe deeply, to beat the threads back. “I know it was you,” I mutter. 

He traces his chapped lips with two fingers, beady eyes darting to his mother before he leans forward, his smile stiffening. “You know nothing,” he hisses.

“You forget I have certain resources at my disposal.” I raise a hand in front of his flaking face, where my nails have sharpened into claws. “And that I know where you live.”

I stare until a satisfying trace of fear tinges Arden’s expression before stomping away toward the town’s single inn, which is little more than a guesthouse with four creaking rooms. If Helos were here, he would tell me to not take the bait, that I’m better than that. What he never seems to understand is that I’m not better than anything at all.

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

Mob bucky/seb or mob chris/andy recs??

Updated 07/04/21 ✨ = Just Added

To be added please tag me in your future works!

Hey Anon! I’m so glad you asked this because Mob/Mafia! Any version of those boys is my favorite. In my previous fic recs I recommended...

If love was an option by @mianorth » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Part 1 🦋 Part 2 🦋 Part 3

Good Little Wife & Good Little Girl by @donutloverxo » Mob!Andy Barber x Reader – A little dark and it has some really good smut in it.

Blackmail by @stargazingfangirl18 » Soft!DarkMafia Andy Barber x Female Reader — You were just doing it to protect your family, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, especially once you started to like it. (One-Shot)

Blow Sweet and Thick by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Bucky is having a bad day, you can help him feel good. (Part of Mafia Monday’s)

Run To You by @bestofbucky » Mob!Boss Bucky x Reader — Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard. (Series)

Can’t Run, Can’t Hide by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!MafiaBucky Barnes x Reader — When you get noticed by the infamous mob boss, you flee. But Bucky doesn’t like to be denied anything and he’s coming for you. (One-shot)

Six Feet | Ch.1 ⚰️ Ch.2 by @queenoftheworldisdead » Dark Mob!Steve x Reader + Dark Mob!Bucky x Reader — Your family’s small funeral home comes into financial trouble. In desperation your father finds the most unlikely solution to solve his financial problems. | (Short Series)

Bankrupt by @mypoisonedvine » dark!40’s!Mob!Stucky x Reader — Your husband’s gambling addiction quickly got him in hot water with the mob, and you by extension. When some debt collectors come by to settle what is owed, you realize that you have a lot more to worry about than money problems.

Partition by @angrythingstarlight » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky comforts you after a bad day, and your boss learns why no one messes with his girl. —> Part 2: Let Me Show You — You wanted to know what your mobster boyfriend did, lucky for you he’s more into the show then tell.

Say the word and it’s yours by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mobster boyfriend rescues you from a long, boring day at work. Bucky always said, “ask and its yours”

Lost Without You by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky Barnes would be lost with you. You’re his everything and he plans on spending Valentine’s Day proving it to you.

All Dressed In White by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!Mafia Bucky Barnes x Reader — You were going to marry someone else, Bucky won’t let that happen. You belong to him now and forever. Till Death Do You Part.

Thick As Thieves by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Mafia!Steve Rogers — The only thing the Mafia hates as much as snitches are thieves. And you’re planning on stealing from Bucky and Steve, what happens if you get caught?

Won’t Let You Go by @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay » Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC!Kori — Kori met Bucky in one of his clubs, out to get shit-faced with a couple of friends to forget about her worries and maybe take home a guy to further rid herself of her numerous frustrations. Little did she know that the one-night stand with Bucky would turn into so much more than that.

Tell Me What You Want by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader; Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mob boyfriend, is none other than Steve Rogers and he is willing to get you whatever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. And be careful what you ask for because he’s going to give it to you over and over again.

To Have & To Hold by @slyyywriting » Bucky Barnes x Mob Boss!Reader — Bucky is trying his best to provide and care for his daughter who just entered first grade. Everything was alright until she asks why everyone else seems to have a mom except for her. You’re just a plain mob boss who wants to turn a new leaf. Challenges arise when the world refuses to let you take a softer, non-violent route. A little girl helps you navigate a compromise.(series)

✨ Mob!Sugar Daddy!Stucky Moodboard by @brattycherubwrites » Mob!Stucky x Reader

✨ Laced Around Your Throat by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve x Reader, Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Your Mob boyfriend knows that the only thing that looks even better than his hand around your throat is his custom made necklace. You’re his girl and the world needs to know it.

✨ Hidden Gems by @jtargaryen18 » Mob!Steve Rogers x Mob!Daughter Reader — Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

Necessary Arrangements by @stargazingfangirl18 » Andy Barber x Fem!Reader, Ari Levinson x (Different) Fem! Reader ft. Ransom Drysdale » One of my favorite series, chapters are decent sized and the smut is so good!

Hugs My Love by @thatfuckingweirdo » Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Reader — You just really need a hug, and Bucky is the only one you want it from.

my old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood red jam by @cloudystevie » Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader — steve gives you what you want… kind of.

Brooklyn Wars by @world-of-aus » Stucky x Reader

Petals and Bullets by @revengingbarnes » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader (One of my all time favorites series)

I would check out @sinner-as-saint’s Masterlist they have quite a few Mob!Bucky series and one-shots that I have loved in the past.

Special by @buckycuddlebuddy » Bucky Barnes x Reader — this one-shot is really hot.

Love, Honor, and Obey by @constantwriter85 » Bucky Barnes — This one is good and I need to catch up on.

Mafioso by @captain-barnes-writes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Please do yourself a favor and read.

Lipstick and Crayons by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader - In Progress

A really good DarkMob!Steve Drabble called Please Hurt Me by @gotnofucks *chefs kiss*

The Mobster’s Little Girl by @smutsonian » Steve Rogers x Reader

off to the races 🐻 off to the races 2 by @harryspet » Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

The Ignorant Beauty & the Beast by @mysterioh » Steve Rogers x Reader – With 21 parts sadly it hasn’t been updated in 8 months, it’s one of my favorite Mob!Steve Roger fics out there. *Thanks to @inactivewhore I found out this story was moved to AO3 and is now called where angels fear to tread it was last updated on 13/11/20*

What It Takes by @cherienymphe » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You left Bucky once you found out who he really is. The one thing you thought would guarantee your safety ends up sealing your fate.

Welcome Home by @punani » Chris Evans x Black!Reader — He’s been away for awhile, but he knows that his girl’s loyalty to him knows no bounds. Knows she’s been waiting for him after her adamancy in telling him there was no other option. It’s only right to make the reunion a memorable one. | So, so, so, so freaking good!

These are what I found on Tumblr that I plan on reading.

Handmaid by @extremelyblackandwhite » Sebastian Stan x ingenue!Reader — y/n works as a handmaid for the daughter of an influential mob leader who is promised to the new boss of the most powerful mob family in new york, sebastian.

AO3 Website Reccomendations

Satellite Heart » Stucky x Reader — You used to be Steve and Bucky's girl. Then they fucking left without saying goodbye. Little did they know, you were pregnant. But life went on. You raised your Talia to the best of your ability. But one day, everything goes to shit. Now your boys are back in your life. And they're not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Little Fox A/B/O Series » Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Soft!Dark Natasha Romanoff x OFC! & Peter Parker x Soft!Dark Tony Stark — So I can’t stress this enough you need to read the tags for this series and I kept getting confused as I read this story as to how old Violet Mason is. But this series takes you on a roller coaster, I like it, my cousin didn’t finish it, I need to catch up.

Pelmeni *finished* » Stucky x Reader — James Bucky Barnes has a good life, as a member of a powerful organized crime syndicate. His best friend Steve is a member too and his literal partner in crime. Bucky's got a problem though. You. His longtime love and secret girlfriend. Unfortunately, your father is his boss and has plans for you that involve normal life. Steve has a problem too. Steve wants in on your relationship and more than the semi-regular/occasional steamy threesomes. You don't have a problem, you're just busy with a big mob wedding coming up, which means a big celebration, that you're busy catering for.

Dying For This Love » Dark!Bucky x Reader — That was before. When you were Bucky’s girl. Now, you have a score to settle. That’s why you’re wearing Bucky’s favorite red satin dress, the one with the cuts that reach right up to the tops of your thighs, the tennis necklace he gifted you for your anniversary, and are fresh off of a mani/pedi and hair appointment. He’s going to regret the day he fucked with you. | This one is intense and a tad bit dark, but the smut is good.

off to the races » Steve Rogers x Reader — In which you call the kingpin your Daddy.

The Mobster’s Little Girl » Steve Rogers x Reader — what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)

Brooklyn Sweethearts » Dark!Stucky x Reader — Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise. | Probably one of my all time favorite Mafia!Stucky stories I have ever read, just sadly it also hasn’t been updated in like 8 months and I keep hoping it will get updated.

Hot Doll » Skinny!MobBoss Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve Rogers is on the rise in the New York underground as you’re trying to keep your own place there. | Dark and good!

Doctor Doctor » Steve Rogers x PlusSize! Reader — (1940 Mobster AU!) You're a war widow down on her luck; and the King of Brooklyn, Steve Rogers, takes notice. | Another one of my favorites. A little bit dark as well.

The Widow » Dark!MobBoss x Reader — It’s the 1920s and everyone’s having a roaring time but you. | Trust me it’s just dark enough.

Those are just some on AO3, I would just go through Mafia AU tag and go to filter and click Avengers or Captain America.