#venturing with vic

[xzhdjsj]

Better Left Unsaid

Isaac x Reader

Isaac rejects you before you can even confess

The Bridgerton S3 sneak peek popped up on my YouTube recently, and I kept imagining the scenario with Isaac SO HERE'S THAT!

I've never actually seen Bridgerton (just a BUNCHHHH of clips on tik tok if that counts), so this isn't accurate at all😭

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Where did it all go wrong?

Only a few weeks ago you were laughing and chatting with Isaac about another book you’ve crossed off your list. It was a frequent arrangement; he’d invite you for tea and listen as you rant for hours about some new book, he’d never pick up himself. Romance just wasn’t his cup of tea, but he still listened to you. It made you feel a sense of worth, it made you feel seen. Sometimes you’d indulge him in pieces you’ve written yourself, little poems and fairy tales that were inspired by something you’ve read. He was the only one who got to hear them, because his praise was all that mattered to you. After all, each and every piece of writing was made with him in mind, each and every piece reflected your adoration for him. He never knew, and he will never know. Not after this.

-

Another ball, another extravagant event for everyone to dress their best and display themselves for all they’re worth. Especially for attendees your age, it's the perfect time to begin their search for suitors and marry off as soon as they could. Not you though, never you. Maybe you weren’t good enough, pretty enough, social enough, simply not enough. It kept you up at night, wondering if you’d ever secure a proposal in the future, or if you’ll secure a proposal from the person you desperately wanted it from. He was the only one who gave any attention, the only man that looked in your direction at all. He was a dear friend and perhaps even more if you told him how you felt.

So that was the plan, you had to confess to Isaac Rhoades.

For once, you put effort into the way you looked. You chose a flattering colour for your outfit, one that complimented your skin, and had your hair styled the way he said he liked many months ago. You felt confident. You felt ready.

Seeing him that night made your heart flutter and your expectation skyrocket. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and told you how beautiful you looked. He danced with you, smiled with you, and told you no matter what, he cared for you and you were special to him. Absolutely nothing else mattered, just him, his charming smile and the bubbling feeling in the depths of your stomach.

At the peak of the night, you decided to venture after him and finally declare your love. It was the perfect opportunity, and you were sure of the chemistry between yourself and him. So, you retrieve the single rose you picked for him and made your way to the corner he had wondered off to. Much to your disappointment, he wasn’t alone. He stood with a close friend of his, Vic. You were ready to turn around and walk away, until you heard your name.

“So, what about name? You seemed happy dancing with them only moments ago.”, Vic teased.

“name? I would never dream of courting them.”, Isaac dismissed his assumption as if it was so foolish.

The only thing foolish here however, was you. How could you ever expect him to want to be with you? He was a gem waiting to shine with his diamond and you were no diamond. You ran, tears streaming down your cheeks, avoiding everyone in your path. No need to give them a spectacle, or something new to talk about. That was the end of your night, the end of years’ worth of friendship and the end of any hope you’d held onto of being wed this year.

-

It’s been weeks since then, but your heart hurts no less. Isaac had sent multiple tea invitations, but you never responded. What was the point? He didn’t truly care for you, he pitied you. Everything he’s ever told you were lies, yet it dripped off his lips so sweetly like syrup. You wanted to hate him, you wished you could hate him, but that was impossible. He made you feel like you were worth something to him, not just as a friend. Turns out the feeling of being more than friends was on the level of siblings than romance, and even that was probably a stretch.

And yet again you were attending a ball, another opportunity to find suitors for others and another opportunity to embarrass yourself for you. Of course, Isaac Rhoades was in attendance, as the only son of the Rhoades household, it was of utmost importance he found himself a wife this season. A wife which was most certainly not you, as he has made clear.

Throughout the night you found his eyes on you but every time he began to a make his way in your direction you occupied yourself in conversation, dance or simply slipped away into the crowd. You did anything and everything to never have to speak to him that night, so when you realised there was no point in staying any longer you had no issues with finding the door.

Outside the ballroom, you slowly made your way down the corridor towards the carriages. The faster you could lock yourself in your room and scream into a pillow the better. But life has its ways of tormenting you.

“Pickle, hold on!”, Isaac calls behind you.

Startled, you turn around and he’s not too far behind you. “I was just on my way out, good night Mr. Rhoades.”

“Mr. Rhoades?”, he catches up to you, “Since when are we using that?”

“I didn’t realise we were back to using 'Pickle' either.”, you snap.

“What?”, he asks, confused. “I invited you to tea last week, you didn’t respond. I chalked up the first few times to you being busy, but it feels like you’re ignoring me on purpose. Is something wrong Pickle? If I really must say it, I miss you.”

“Hah!”, you laugh to his face. “You miss me? You miss me but you’d never court me, is that correct?”

The look on his face resembled a child who got caught stealing sugar.

“I overheard your conversation with Vic, telling him you’d never dream of courting me.”, you’re almost shouting, finally being able to let out an ounce of frustration.

“Pickle I...”, he looked around before continuing, “Maybe we should talk somewhere more private.”

“Because I embarrass you, Isaac.” you state, “I don’t need your pity. God, how couldn’t I see it before! Of everyone, I’d have never expected such cruelty from you.”

He’s left speechless as he watched you storm away, wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes.

Perhaps in some other reality you had a chance to be with him, perhaps in some other reality your heart was whole and unbroken.

[themotherofhorses]

I think it’s time to be real, Vic. I am genuinely very disappointed at the fact that you decided to murder handmaid, despite so many of your readers begging you to not go through with it. I read through your “handmaid” tag and it seems like a good majority voted against it. Do you not care for them? Do you not value their own input and opinions? Honestly, what was the point of building up such a gorgeous romance only to butcher it at the very end? Plus the violence you shared in that snippet is equally disturbing and unnecessary, especially being aimed at small children.

“Her twins are dead – their tiny, broken bodies strewn near their father’s desk. One is missing his head, if she is correct. Was it Aemion? Aenar?”

Yikes.

I think this is very telling. But, in the end, you are an adult. Do what you want to do, but just know that this decision will cost you some of your biggest fans, myself included.

Hello anon! I’m gonna use proper capitalization and punctuation to answer this because …. woah. LMAO.

I hear you, I see you, I feel you.

But let’s have a friendly little conversation: at the end of the day, this is fucking FANFICTION. It is NOT real! There is literally no need to be this upset over something as silly as words being typed up in a word doc. I promise you that it does not equal the ending of the world.

(But also let’s be real, if handmaid was canon in F&B, GRRM would’ve probably killed her off too. It is rare that something so good and pure actually survives within the world of Westeros.)

Listen, I understand that many people didn’t want handmaid (and her children) to meet such a horrible fate; that is why I decided to offer two “canon” endings — an angst and a happy one. That way you can easily ignore the angst ending in favor of the happy one!! Problem solved.

But ….. but you are also treading through the Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon fandom.

Major character death, extreme acts of violence, and heartbreak is expected. Have you actually read F&B? Literally everyone DIES in the book. They all meet such gruesome fates, including the children. Just look at Helaena! At Jaehaerys! No one is safe.

One of the most common themes found inside ASOIAF is “the innocent always pays the price for the actions of their rulers.”

In my handmaid series, handmaid/Anya (+her children) endure the consequences of Aemond’s actions at Storm’s End (and, by extension, the actions of the Greens usurping the throne following the death of Viserys). I’d argue that her death ventures incredibly close to canon-level material.

You do not need to read this upcoming fanfic update. I will not hold you responsible for such. No feelings will be hurt, I promise. As I mentioned in previous replies, the happy ending will soon follow; in fact, “hair braiding” and “family picnic” are canon to the happy ending!

So let’s all chill out. Take a deep breath, eat a snickers bar, go scratch a dog between their ears.

[myfandomprompts]

𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 | 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟑)

Synopsis: You are a French girl that had the opportunity to teach in Manchester, and you had been lucky enough to be granted a bed at the Bennett’s place. As Europe is on the brink of war, you start to worry for your family back at home, and you are surprisingly consoled by the one man of the house you would never have thought capable of landing you an ear. It’s not that you like Tom, is it?

Previous Part - Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, smut, swearing, minor talk of death Thank you @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan !

“Can you not shut up that fucking bird, Manc’?!”

Tom turned at the voice, giving the man his biggest grin as he sat on his bunk, his new acquisition on his lap.

“What, you can sleep through shell dropping but you can’t bear to hear a bird? That’s rich, mate.”

James gave him a cold stare and went back to his nap, ignoring his taunt as best as he could, knowing Tom as the troublemaker.

“What are you going to do with this anyway, Tom?” Norman asked, looking at the yellow canary in the cage, the question making Tom smile.

“Make money of course, for you and me. Why don’t have fun while on chase with a German ship that we can’t find?”

Norman looked suspicious. “You’re gonna sell it?”

“Of course not, Norman,” Tom rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna make the lads put bets on it. We’re all gonna profit from that little Vera of ours.”

And profit he did. And then hell broke loose.

One minute he was fighting Henry and refusing to shake Vic’s hand, and the next he was thrust against the wall and knocked unconscious by the force of the blast the Exeter had suffered.

When he woke up, it was dark, smoke surrounding him, Henry had lost his arm, and Vic was dead.

“Don’t you move, you bastard,” said Tom, crouching near the ginger.

Henry was a grunting mess, his arm bleeding out.

But Tom took care of it until they got him out of the loading room and up on the deck, where Tom realised how lucky he was. Smoke was making his head dizzy and soot stuck to his skin, but at least he was breathing, as was Vera. He had felt his way to her in the smoke, finding an egg in her cage, and money from the bets still in his pockets. It had make him cry, the beauty of it, among the horrors.

During the ceremony he had prayed, uttering the few words he knew in order to pay his respect, and he had realised how much his dad had been right. All of these men were dead, and they didn’t even know why.

On their journey home, their mission accomplished, Tom had ventured to the infirmary below deck, grabbing the occasional smoke the lads were allowed to have. Near the porthole laid Henry, arm tightly bandaged and looking at the waves outside.

When Tom approached him and laid the bag of money on his bed, pouting. “I know it won’t go far… But you need it more than me, so…” he said, looking everywhere but at the ginger. 

There was a heavy silence before the latter spoke. “Thank you for seeing me right, after what happened.”

Tom had always been uncomfortable with thanks, so he brushed it off before he continued. “Graf Spee sunk.”

“What, did we hit her?”

“Nah. Captain scuttled his own ship so we couldn't take her,” Tom explained, “Shot himself. You know I don’t know if that counts as one for us, with being an own goal and that, but-”

“Oh God, shut your noise would you?” Henry cut him, an exasperated expression appearing on his face. It made Tom scoff, but his cocky smile soon disappeared afterwards.

“Don’t tell anybody I’ve done this…”

Henry searched his face for a while, surprised. Half of the men that had bet on Vera were dead now. “Yeah, well, I’ve heard they’ve been giving you grief about keeping the money.”

“Yeah, well, I ain’t doing this for the lads, I’m doing this for Vic,” Tom replied softly, his heart clenching at the thought of his fallen shipmate. “And this is the sort of soppy thing one of my friends would have done. Wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”

Henry raised his eyes to him, Tom’s side and unconcealed smile not going unnoticed. “She sounds like a good lass. Special friend of yours?”

Tom only lowered his eyes with a smile on his lips, staying silent. It was answer enough.

“Well, if she puts up with a guy such as you, Bennett, she must be something.”

“Yeah… She is,” answered Tom, trying to not think too hard about you back in Manchester, the one that accompanied his thoughts since he had gotten on this cursed ship. Tom’s gaze reported back on the bag of pounds. “That doesn’t make us mates,” he concluded.

Henry shook his head, both of the men losing their sheepish smiles. “No,” he agreed. “Thanks for the money.”

Tom’s mischievous gaze came back. “And maybe you could put it toward a hook.”

Henry repressed a bitter smile and Tom left, feeling a little bit lighter.

It was just you and Douglas in the house now.

Lois had joined ENSA for the time being, and Tom was… away at sea, the wireless the only tool giving you news about the HMS Exeter, the cruiser you knew Tom was on.

The fact that you had stayed around was a good thing, allowing you to take care of Douglas, since Lois had been the one doing most of the chores since their mother had died and giving him a hand. Additionally, it allowed both of you to escape solitude, keeping each other’s company in your shared anguish.

This is why you felt guilty when you announced that you had found a flat that you could rent, your pay being stable enough to finally have a place of your own. You considered that you had taken advantage of the Bennett's hospitality long enough, and even though it saddened you a bit, you could at last give them the space they needed as a family. 

Only, out of the three only one remained in that family home and despite your announcement, you chose to delay your departure. He was putting up a brave face but deep down you knew he was as worried as you, maybe even more. Each morning, he was looking for any scrap of information he could find in the papers about the Royal Navy's achievements or failures, his fingers quivering over the table in anguish.

You would divert your gaze, waiting with dread for the day he would find that something had happened, the blue of his eyes reminding you so much of his son’s that you could not bring yourself to look at them for too long. 

Once you had come home to find the radio smashed on the floor, and shortly after you learned that the Exeter had been hit. The only thing that had prevented your nerves from cracking at that very moment was the expression on Douglas’s face as you prepared dinner, his inner panic written all over his features. You ate in silence that evening, unable to bring up the subject, only keeping each other’s company.

The day after Tom’s departure to Liverpool, you had tried to convince yourself that you had done the right thing in making him understand that you could not dive into what that moment shared between you meant, that wonderful kiss. He had seemed to understand back then, stepping away with that stern look of his and comforting you in the idea that it was only a whim flirty and nonchalant Tom had, a way for him to say goodbye. 

If you had been honest with yourself, you would have acknowledged that the hollowed feeling in your chest had not been due only to the guilt of treating him that way, but something else entirely. Because as months passed, you came to realise that what you felt was regret and the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, it had not been only a whim. You missed his smile, his presence, his scent and thinking about him being hurt made your heart sink in your chest often. You had no idea if he felt the same. Much could change in six months. Nothing in your life in Manchester was the same without him.

You were a fool to believe that your feelings for him would pass over time and that you would be hurting less, but war was raging all around and you had Lois as well as your family to worry about, both far away.

You had received the long-awaited letter from them, your father writing to you that they were fine but that they had been advised to get as far as the Maginot Line as possible, the French dreading a German attack at any moment. Your family would go west but you did not know exactly where, and your father had specially instructed you not to come back, that you were better in England.

He was right, of course, but it didn’t prevent you from wanting to go to them at once.

So weeks passed and you finally made up your mind to move away from the Bennetts, and to busy yourself into work. But it didn’t last.

“You’re alright, dad?” Tom said, raising Vera’s cage as his father approached with his bike. “Bought you a canary.”

Tom was finally back in Manchester, having ditched Devonport where the Exeter had finally docked and bought a ticket home. Douglas was happy to see his son again and his smile had only faltered when Tom announced his desire to desert. Ensued an argument in which Douglas tried to explain that he would not be able to help him, and that he would have to go back, regardless of his newly found beliefs. Tom had once again felt let down and unsupported, hurt even. He did not understand why his own father would not help him.

“Maybe he thinks you aren’t a very good shot,” joked Lois with a cup of hot cocoa between her hands as they prepared for bed, Tom having found the use of his own bed again with you gone.

“Haha,” Tom fakely laughed, laying over the covers with a cigarette in hand. “Is that one of your ENSA jokes?”

Lois was trying to comfort her brother as best she could, seeing how much Tom was sad about their father’s obtuseness and incomprehension. If she had a say in it, she would make Tom stay, she had seen how it was like, out there. She needed her brother too.

“So, when did Y/N move out?” Tom asked, the room feeling empty without your stuff filling it.

Lois sipped her beverage before answering. “A couple of months ago. You haven’t seen her?”

“Nah,” Tom replied, taking a puff out of his cigarette as if it didn’t bother him. “I wouldn’t know where to find her anyway.”

“She is not far,” Lois shrugged. “She got closer to that Adam bloke’s place…”

“What bloke?” asked Tom, his eyes fully on his sister now.

“A guy she is seeing. I wasn’t around when she moved out so I don’t know much but yeah, she had him help her move.”

Tom tried to let nothing appear as he felt his heart race in his chest, a bitter taste in his mouth. “Glad to see she is settling in Manchester fine on her own, then,” he said flatly, crushing his fag on the ashtray a little too violently before turning around and bringing the covers over him.

“She comes to visit us sometimes, asks about you often. She’ll be thrilled that you’re home, can’t wait to see her face when she sees you.”

“Yeah… can’t wait.”

Lois stared at his back facing her and took the hint, supposing that Tom wanted to end the conversation and go to sleep. She frowned at his sudden silence but she knew her brother cared more for you than he let on and chose to not dwell on it. But in Tom’s mind it was all angst and feeling of abandon again, even if his heart had swelled a little at the mention of you asking about him often.

He might not be able to wait until another one of your visits to his family.

You hardly heard the knock on the door over the kettle’s noise filling your flat. You had been alone in it for two days in a row, concentrating on your task. You didn’t expect any visitors.

When you opened the door to find Tom standing there, your jaw dropped and your heart stopped for a bit.

He let a moment pass in which he only observed your eyes roaming his form in disbelief. “It's not polite to stare, you know.”

You found your senses again at his voice, and joy filled you. “Tom!”

You hesitated for the briefest of time but could not resist rushing into his arms, relief flowing through you as he hugged you back, his scent overwhelming your senses at once. In his arms, feeling him again, you felt the tension you both left with come back slowly.

“Can I come in?” he asked with his usual playful tone as you pulled back to look at him.

“Sure, of course,” you replied, stepping aside to let him in and softly closed the door behind him.

“It’s cosy,” he remarked, looking around. “At least you’re closer to the school, eh?”

You barely nodded to acknowledge the fact that you had heard him, rather walking to face him with blinking eyes. He had come back, and you were definitely unprepared for the many feelings going through you right now. “When did you come back?”

“Five days ago. I’m sorry, I know it’s early but Lois told me you’ve moved out and I needed to be away from the house for a while. So I figure I could come over.”

You had no idea what to do, just content that he was there, and the many words you had wanted to say for months were simply not coming out of your mouth. He was anxiously looking around the room again, as if looking for something. You remembered the kettle. “Um, do you want a cup of tea?”

His blue eyes snapped back up at you and he nodded. You rushed over the sink to prepare the beverage, feeling Tom’s gaze at the back of your neck. When you came back to him, he was already seated on the couch, glancing at the letter on the table. You put the hot cups next to it.

“Is it from your folks?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at the paper.

“Yes. The only one I got from them in months,” you stated, the torn edges of the letter indicating how many times you had read it over and over again.

“What are they saying?”

You wanted to talk about anything else but this. “They’re fine. They left our home, gone to the West. My father won’t tell me where.” He is afraid I'll come, you wanted to say.

Tom was about to answer but you cut him, eager to change the subject. You were already observing him, looking for any signs of his trials on his skin.

“Are you okay? I heard the Exeter was…”

“I got lucky. I got out of there with a bloody headache and a sore back. T'was much worse for the other lads.”

“I’m sorry…” you said, watching how Tom’s eyes had become darker, filled with bad memories. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, me and Vera are two lucky birds, literally.”

You frowned. “Vera?”

“A canary. I would have brought her to you but I think dad had taken a liking to her,” he joked, and his smile had an effect on you that you didn't expect. It was the first time you saw his smile in months outside of your dreams, and you were glad to see that despite what he had been through, it didn’t change this side of him, his smug attitude, his light. The side that made your heart flutter.

You chuckle a bit, imagining Douglas playing with a bird, but you were soon lost in the study of his features, as if trying to imprint them properly into your mind this time. 

He was staring back at you like he was doing the same, and you grew uneasy under his gaze. He had not touched his cup of tea, and was no longer smiling, and you realised that neither of you had talked for a solid minute. 

You cleared your throat. “So um… Are you going back?” you asked, clutching onto your hot mug to keep your fingers from nervously drumming the ceramic, its warmth mirroring the temperature of your cheeks.

Tom looked away in exasperation, a glare of disappointment in his eyes, “I just might. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to go back, I’m done.”

“You’re deserting?”

He didn’t answer, rather picking up a cigarette from his pocket and lightening up between his lips. He took a moment to draw the first puff before biting his lips and rubbing his eyes. He looked tired.

“Good,” you continued, watching the muscle of his hands tense. “I don’t want you to go back either.”

His gaze shot up at you as you grabbed your cup to take another sip. His eyes softened for a moment. “Well it’s apparently not that simple, me dad won’t even help me with his pacifist group. He won’t help his own son.”

“Tom, I was with him when you and Lois were gone. I saw how he was. He doesn’t want you to go back, believe me,” you stated, thinking back at the smashed radio in the kitchen.

“Then he isn’t showing it.”

He angrily took a puff out of his cigarette, and you almost reached for his hand resting on his lap to make him understand that you told the truth, but you stopped yourself. You had no idea where you and Tom were at.

“Tom, I think we need to... talk,” you said shakily, glancing at him through your eyelashes, the decision you took two days ago looming over your head and dreading the moment you would share it with Tom. 

“Don’t bother Y/N,” he said, taking his last puff of smoke. “I know, and it’s fine, I understand.”

You didn’t. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you’re seeing someone. Lois told me.”

He put up a brave face but you could see the bitterness behind his eyes, and how he bit the inside of his mouth in hidden irritation..

“Oh… you mean Adam? It wasn’t… I mean,” you stammered, trying to find your words, “We went out a couple of times but that’s it. I don’t even know why I talked to Lois about it, it was months ago.”

You saw how his expression shifted and how his eyes widened a little. Maybe it hasn’t been a whim at all.

“Really?” he said, his blue eyes suddenly brighter. “So you’re not seeing anyone?”

You bit your lips, you could feel your cheek burn under his inquisitive gaze. “No I don’t, but Tom I-”

“No wait. Let me talk first,” he interrupted, and you closed your mouth, bracing yourself for his next words.

“I know I appear as an insensitive bloke sometimes, that I don’t really care and that I will always go for trouble, because it is what I do. But I care, and… when that bloody boat I was on got hit, when the lads were lying dead, I just…”

He visibly swallowed and you waited expectantly. You were sure his shoulders were broader, and you cursed yourself to notice that in that particular moment. 

“I just thought that kissing you has been the best decision I’ve made in a long time,” he blurted out and you felt your heart beat faster. “I wasn’t even sure I would make it, but during that moment, all that I could think about was that if I died, I would have tried at least. With you I mean. I know you don’t feel the same but what I’m trying to say is-”

The end of his sentence was stopped by your mouth on his, words dying on his tongue as you took hold of his shoulders tightly and felt his fingers timidly tangle in your hair. It was long and sweet, and everything you could ask for.

When you pulled apart, breath shortened, he still had his eyes closed when he whispered after a beat, enjoying his fingers tracing down the back of your neck. “Y/N… Can you do that again?”

You looked down at his lips as he slightly opened his eyes. “I…” you stammered, very tempted, but you weren’t processing anything other than his touch on your skin, how you longed for more but did not want to cross that bridge. But it seems that your common sense was not in charge any more.

“Christ, you look beautiful,” Tom said, looking at your flushed cheeks and reddened lips, searching for your words and he kissed you again, unable to wait a moment longer.

You melted in his embrace as he now cupped your jaw and kissed you fervently, his tongue doing God’s work. It was exhilarating, and you soon felt your whole body tense up.

“Y/N…” he called again, his husky voice vibrating against your cheek as he traced his thumb over your chin.

“Yes?” you whispered back.

“I’ve been on a boat filled with only men for the last six months, stuck with my thoughts, miles away from you, and now you somehow managed to straddle me in the last ten seconds,” he pointed out, and you instantly realised that you had climbed on him during your kiss, making you hyper aware if your two bodies flushed against each other. You felt his hands trail down to your waist. “I have very little restraint and it feels like you're testing me right now.”

When his hands settled on your hips, it made you sink ever more unto him and you briefly felt his growing hardness between your legs, making you gasp. He on the other hand, groaned.

“I didn’t know you had any restraint at all,” you teased, trying to control your own arousal that was dangerously spiralling, still not sure if you should cross that line with him.

“I can’t believe you're saying that while you're on my lap,” he groaned, his nose brushing your skin as he talked inside of your neck while you tried your hardest not to move. But the way he made your chest heave did not help and he felt it, how much you were already mellow for him.

“Tom, we should…” you breathed out but he began tracing his tongue on your neck slowly, making you hold on to his shoulders more strongly and you could now clearly feel him below you, meeting your own heat. You closed your eyes in pleasure.

“Y/N, please I need you,” he pleaded, mouth grazing just over your collarbone before looking up at you. The way his pretty eyes glowed had your last semblance of resistance snap.

“Me too.”

And you kissed him again, sinking down on him completely and making both of you groan in pleasure, what you had meant to tell him flying out of the window. He was hard already and you found yourself completely at his mercy, the way he was touching you making your whole body tense and your insides throb. He tasted so good.

Then he bucked his hips up slightly and you could not repress a moan, making him swallow it with hunger.

“Did you think of me as much as I thought of you?” he spoke, pulling you closer so that he could feel your wetness against him. "You certainly feel like it...”

You repressed the need to answer him that yes, you had dreamt of him this way, guilt looming over you all of these months for rejecting him the day before he left and not having said proper goodbyes drowning among the many thoughts of his tongue on your skin.

“Tom, the bed…” you breathed as his hands languidly roamed to your chest and his mouth nibbled your jaw.

“I don’t think I can wait that long, love.”

He toppled you over, setting you down on the couch below him as he took his shirt off in one swift movement before sinking down back to you. You sighed when you felt him part your legs so he could rest between them, his hand travelling from your thigh to your waist and then to your blouse where he eagerly unbuttoned it.

It gave you the opportunity to look at him, truly look at him. He was more muscular than when he left, and you could see remnants of light burns on his side. The way he moved over you and how his pale skin glowed in the light was enticing.

“Nothing under there... Interesting.” he noticed with a smirk as he uncovered your breasts, pulling you out of your reveries.

“I didn’t have time to properly dress,” you blushed.

It made him smirk more. “Lucky me.”

The coldness of your bare skin quickly faltered under his warm touch, and you clutched onto his shoulders and neck to meet his lips again, wrapping your legs around his hips in the process.

“Tell me you’re not going to work today,” he panted as he forced himself to pull away from your lips.

“No…” you replied, a brief anguish taking hold of you, but it was replaced by a heated feeling when he thrust his hips a little further to your form.

“Good. I’m not letting you go this time.”

As his mouth lashed on yours, you managed to straighten up on the couch a little so that you could finally get completely rid of your layers. Tom pulled away slightly as you did the same with lust in his eyes as he observed you, barely keeping his hands to himself. When you were entirely bare before him, he sunk into you again to kiss you, not wasting a second, and you felt his fingers dangerously lower to the spot between your thighs, coming to play with your embarrassing wetness.

“I thought you could not wait,” you moaned under him biting your lips to prevent another gasp from escaping your mouth, inches away from his as you shamefully longed for the bulge in his pants.

“You want me to stop, chérie?” he asked, tongue playful as he stroked a particularly sensitive spot on you, making you arch your back, the nickname he gave you not helping the heat in your belly.

“… No!” you managed, holding him for dear life. “It’s just, you don’t have to…”

“I want to, Y/N. Hell, I want to do so many things to you.”

His tongue traced your skin again but he stopped to look at you, finding you exquisite as you panted under him, desperately trying to control yourself. But it was no use, his thumb was now the only digit over your bud as he now slid two others inside you, turning your whole body aflame. His gaze was intense on your face, observing each of your reactions to his touch as he searched for that sweet spot inside of you, the one that would make you scream his name and if he kept on, you would come undone here and now. As your breath hitched in your throat, his thrusts became slower, leaving you aching for more.

“Tom, Tom I-” you didn’t know it would be that difficult to talk, you were a mess and the way his free hand was caressing the side of your face as he trailed wet kisses on your neck was torture. “I need more.”

He hummed in satisfaction and you felt his hands between your legs stop, rather stroking the inside of your thigh. You let out a shaky sigh at the loss of his touch. “Oh, do you now?” he murmured over your collarbone before meeting your eyes again. “Care to repeat my name, love?”

“Tom, quit the cocky attitude and just-” you said, voice firmer than you thought it would be and gaze burning. 

He did not lose his sly smile, his pupils so dilated with lust it almost hid the blue of his eyes. “Just what? Say it. With your words.”

You let out a muffled moan of desperation as you lower your hands onto his abdomen, feeling his muscle tense under your fingers, inches away from where you really wanted them to be.

“Take me Tom, please...” you manage, looking straight into his eyes and lowering your hands.

He instantly lets out a deep groan, music to your ears. “Fuck, you have no idea how often I dreamt of you saying that.”

But you were faster and less patient than him, your hands went to his belt and unbuckled it with eagerness, setting his erection free and you swallowed. You had seen the look of it under his pants, but you had not expected that. He noticed how you licked your lips the moment after and he could not resist the urge to taste them again, hungrily sucking your bottom one. His girth came to rest on your entrance and your body tensed up in anticipation.

“You’re alright?” he asked, sensing your slight spasm as he passed over your sensitiveness, watching your hooded eyes. You wish he hadn’t stopped kissing you.

You nodded, whimpering slightly, shifting so you could meet him properly and his lips parted in reaction, his head inches from your heat.

When he finally plunged into you you could not repress the moan that escaped your lips, and he groaned loudly, stopping his motion instantly as you felt your inside muscles clench in reaction around him. You took a moment to adjust to his size, sensing his length twitching against your walls.

“Fuck-,” he cursed against your mouth and you waited for him to settle, surprising you when he finally rolled his hips onto you, a grin of satisfaction on his lips as he saw you close your eyes in pleasure and whimper under him. His pacing was irresistible and you thought that you were literally in heaven for a second.

It felt so right. You moaned his name and he moaned yours and in those moments when you would let one of yours hands rest against his cheeks as he kissed you passionately, he would come to take it, interlacing his fingers with yours as he kept his pace inside of you and trying your best to meet the rocking of his hips against your core. The way he did not let go of your lips as he did so left you a whimpering mess, every single one of your sounds swallowed by him as his own were breathed out on your skin the rare moments he pulled apart for air. When the tension of your body became too overwhelming for you to handle and you had to leave his cheek in order to squeeze the side of the couch, his hand went to your breasts, palming and stroking it softly before playing with your hardened nipples. You repressed a deep moan at the painful pleasure.

“Let it all out, Y/N. I want to hear everything you feel, every one of those sweet sounds you make for me. I want you to give me everything.”

His voice was too much to handle, his words making your whole body shiver as you indulged him, moaning loudly when he pounded into you in one particularly hard motion, eliciting a low grunt from him as well. His head went to bury itself into your neck, and you dug your fingers into his hair. You were so close.

“Oh my god, Tom please-” you pleaded, not really knowing what you were saying any more, because only him existed. “I-”

His thrusts became sloppy, more frantic and the next moment you were pushed over the edge, convulsing, crying out his name as you felt your body go limp. You felt him come right after you, his teeth lightly digging into your flesh near the pulse point of your neck and making you see stars.

You took a moment to enjoy the feeling before softly pulling his hair in order to raise his head and drag him into a lazy and wet kiss again, capturing his jaw between your hands. He responded so well, not even taking care in sliding out of you, the slightest movements of your hips making him twitch inside of you and Tom hiss against your lips.

“Yes, I did. I did think of you Tom,” you finally replied, his question appearing to be so far away in time now.

His lusty eyes went soft for a moment, and you stroked the side of his jaw with your fingers. You were the first one to move, granting him space to slide out of you and lay down next to you, his sweaty body coming to rest against you. He brushed your hair off of your face. “What did you want to tell me? Before?”

You escaped his gaze, immediately uncomfortable. He took hold of your chin gently, making you look back at him, his brows slightly knitted in worry.

“Hey,” he tried, his voice as soft as his touch. “What is it? Tell me.”

“It’s not important right now,” you whispered.

It was indeed the worst of times to bring up the subject, because for now you only wanted to enjoy the feeling of Tom’s arms around your naked body, making you feel safe. 

He let a moment pass, watching how your fingers traced the skin of his chest. “Are you gonna tell me to fuck off again?” he asked and you could feel the anguish in his voice, the one he hid behind his smugness.

It was too much for you, the ill feeling in your guts coming back, so you lifted yourself up in a sitting position, grabbing your blouse to cover your body. Tom rose beside you at once, his broad hand on your back, preventing you from shuddering.

“No, it’s not like that… Tom, I like you. I really do,” you admitted, feeling his eyes watching you. “I am sorry I took so long to realise it, but now I feel it’s too late. That we, I wasted that opportunity. All of that because we have choices to make, choices that go beyond our desires.”

“What are you talking about?” he said, looking confused. “It’s not too late and you didn’t waste anything Y/N. I made my choices and I chose you, don’t push me away for that.”

“I know Tom, I know all that, but this is what scares me. What if it’s out of our hands? You might leave again, get seriously hurt this time and I won’t be able to handle it if we keep this on, I know I couldn't.”

“Then I won’t go. Or if I do, I’ll do whatever is necessary to come back, I promise,” he assured, turning himself to you fully and forcing you to meet your now watery eyes with his blue ones. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Y/N.”

There was the ghost of a smile on his lips, but then he noticed the way your eyes showed guilt, and the sorry way you looked at him. You could only witness silently as he slowly came to realise what you had dreaded to tell him. “Tom…”

“… you’re not staying, are ya?” he deadpanned, eyes wide, “That’s what you mean. That you won’t be there.”

You bit your bottom lips, giving him a sorry look as you shook your head. He let out a long sigh, taking his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. That blissful moment you shared had not lasted long.

“I have to go,” you tried to explain. “I can’t stay here while I worry sick about my family. When I’m not even sure I still have one. Not knowing is killing me, like it did when you were away.”

“You’re not at work because you quitted,” he continued, speaking between his hands as he put the pieces together. “Because you already made up your mind.”

You watched him, heart clenching as you braced yourself. “I leave in three days.”

Your words made him stand up from his seat abruptly, grab his pants and shirt and started to aggressively dress himself. You watched him, helpless at his obvious irritation.

“You’re kidding me, right?” he asked, pacing, disbelief in his voice. “You’re telling me that you’re going back to France, where people die every day, Y/N, where you could die?” his tone was now clearly pissed, and you found the anxious feeling that had accompanied you all of these months come back in waves. “You don’t even know where they are, where you’re going!”

“I’ll … Figure it out. I have to,” you replied, desperation in your eyes. “Tom, you have to understand, they are running and I can’t even help them from here. I had one letter from them in months. One.”

“Don’t go Y/N,” he stated, coming back to you on the couch staring at you, imploring. “You’re safer here, believe me when I tell you that your family wouldn’t want you to go to them. You have no idea how it’s like.”

“Neither do you, Tom,” you spoke slightly louder. “I know you’ve seen death, but at least you know where your family is. I don’t and the more I wait, the more I am likely to become alone in the world, shut out completely from them,” you said, tears finally filling your eyes.

“You won’t be alone. You’re not alone, even now. You have me, you bloody have me Y/N. Going is a shitty idea, you just, can’t run into this like that. I won’t let you.”

“You’re doing it Tom, you’re running into conflict, in the first row at that, because you have no choice. I don’t even know when I’ll see you again once you’re gone. Everything got worse. The whole world seems on fire.”

“Then don’t leave!” he shouted, taking your head in his hands. “I will come back, I promise. Just, stay here, stay safe, away from those fascists. Christ Y/N, this is stupid, even for you.”

You brushed the insult away, knowing anger was the cause of it, his desire to protect you. “You would do the same Tom. You would do anything for the one you love, I know you would. You must understand that I need to do the same. I need to be with them. To try at least.”

Silence grew thicker between you, a tear finally trailing down your cheek, and Tom wanted to wipe it away, but his movements were frozen, the idea of you leaving causing an icy feeling in his body.

Of course he would do the same, but he didn’t want you to be like him. He wanted you safe.

“Don’t go,” he whispered, a final plea. “You won’t be able to come back. You know that.”

To make it back to me.

You watched him, wishing you could only lose yourself in his eyes and never have to think about anything else. “I can’t,” you stated, voice trembling. “I just… I made up my mind. I just can’t.”

Tom’s expression fell, something passing through his eyes. He watched you for a moment, as if he was giving you a chance but you didn’t speak.

He nodded in resignation, clenched his jaw before looking away from you and stood up, grabbing his vest without a word. The next moment he was out, closing the door on the now empty room, leaving you alone with your anguish.

You told yourself that it had to be done.

But it had been the hardest thing you’d ever done.

A/N: At least the ending avoided the cold shower. Part 4

@chainsawsangel@mischiefmanaged71@depressedperson88@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @yentroucnagol @crlttpstrn

[dynamoe]

Billy Quizboy as the rabbit-toothed guitarist DAVE HILL of glam rock band SLADE— sporter of the worst bangs in rock n' roll history*— circa their 1973 Christmas #2 Merry Christmas Everybody**, which was covered as the annual Venture Bros holiday song this year by Pete White, Master Billy Quizboy, his mom and her lovers (the elderly superhero polycule).

→ hear the cover on KenPlume's youtube → go to the Billy Quizboy & Pete White index

(I know with the orange hair/eyepatch he looks like Ziggy Stardust— the Quizboy:Slade ratio is a delicate balance.)

Merriest Twelfth Day of Christmas to you, to Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer and to Slade and anyone else still reading who gives a shit.

Slade is more of a British thing, really. They had a ton of British hits in the 1970s as a glam rock band, but didn't break into the US until the 1980s (when they replaced Ozzy Osborne at the Reading Festival) with Cum on Feel the Noize, pivoting to be more hard rock/metal.

Noddy Holder was more of the “face” of Slade (head to toe plaid, mutton chops, tophat covered in mirrors). I suspect the all-plaid outfit on Col. Gentleman in the Vbros cover art is a take on Noddy's look... or he ignored the brief and dressed as one of Scotland's own Bay City Rollers. Slade suffered from a lesser case of Cheap Trick syndrome, where every member dressed like they were in a different band. Dave dressed full spaceman-- face glitter, every variety of metallic fabric available (lurex, glitter knit, vinyl, lamé) in shades of silver. The other guitarist whose name I won't look up wore a red lurex suit (I guess that would be Pete's outfit in their cover band) which he had to keep replacing because he sweated so much on stage the fibers literally melted (one of the suits was preserved by the V&A on an episode of Secrets of the Museum)... No one cares about the drummer. 

The only reason I know anything about Slade — I'm no rock trivia geek, I’m a comedy nerd — Slade was a constant punchline in 1990s Brit Comedy. Noddy appeared on Never Mind the Buzzcocks in the LaMar era. 1993 sketch show The Smell of Reeves and Mortimer had a recurring mini-sitcom “Slade in Residence” (the band living in a suburban home together, wearing their stage costumes, eating nothing but cup-of-soup, obsessing over monster truck rallies and­— the key to their appeal to Vic and Bob, I imagine­— whining in thick Black Country accents.)

Billy is my Covid muse and if he stars in the annual Christmas cover (he had only sung before on 2006's VentureAid; read poems on their take on the Beatles Fan Club records), it's not like I CAN'T draw something despite saying I was done with this shit. I promised you guys a *technically* Christmas Billy drawing and I *technically* delivered.

Now I'm gonna switch to drawing characters I own so I can finally make some money. Godblessuseveryone. ___

*Dave Hill was just being a futuristic spaceman, those micro-bangs were the hottness on all the skater girls of the late 1990s. I even had 'em.

**Having the #1 song at Christmas is a big deal in the UK (as you may remember from the Bill Nighy segments from Love Actually) and the 1973 slug match between Slade's Merry Christmas Everybody and the eventual winner Wizzard’s I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday looms large in music trivia, to the degree that I was sure Astrobot Go was going to release a cover a day later of some other (more fan-favored) characters doing their version of Wizzard to rain on Billy et. al’s parade.

→ Wizzard

So which character dons the beard and harlequin eye facepaint to be the guy from Wizzard? Probably Hank, right?

→ go to the Billy Quizboy & Pete White index → Nobody'sSweetheart on Instagram

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor x MC – S2 CH 46 (Eng Translation - Part 2)

“Perhaps you are the god sent from the heavens to protect me.”

“Who exactly are you?”

Do remember to read Part 1 first: Here!

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a chapter that is yet to be released on the global server. ⌚  

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【CH 46-13, after part 1】

The airport lobby is packed with people. As pedestrians pass by the man, they all instinctively give him a wide berth, without even a sidelong glance.

MC: This isn’t rejection at all! It’s like the world has given you a “golden finger,” even more powerful than the “invisibility” Evol!

MC: Vic-Vic, do you think you can become rich by being an invisible person?

Man (Victor): [chuckles softly]  Talking nonsense again.

Despite his words, a subtle smile forms at the corners of his lips. After a pause, he speaks again.

Man (Victor): Moving on––

My phone suddenly rings, and Anna’s name pops up on the screen. I mouth an apology to him and hastily answer the call.

MC: Anna, is there something you need me for?

Anna: MC, you finally answered the phone! I couldn’t reach you earlier, and there multiple pending tasks that need your authorization.

Anna: The previous advertising partners came to our office and informed us that the contract will expire next month. Additionally, we need to finalize the theme for the upcoming season of our program…

MC: Ask Minor to reach out to several advertising companies with the outstanding performance last year and inquire about their interest in collaboration and pricing. If the cost-effectiveness is not better than our current arrangement, we can proceed with contract renewal.

MC: As for the program theme, ask Kiki and the team to propose a few potential directions and send them to my email for review. I’ll try to finalize it within the next two days...

After ending the call, I notice that Vic-Vic is looking at me with a profound expression on his face.

MC: What’s wrong? You haven’t felt any new signs of rejection, have you?

Man (Victor): No, I haven’t. I was just surprised to see that you, who acted so recklessly in the desert, would still have a sense of order when it comes to work.

MC: …

So, is this how he viewed me when we were in the desert?

Feeling a bit indignant, I make up my mind to change his impression of me. So, with a firm grip on the man’s arm, I walk in large strides toward the airport exit.

MC: I acted that way only because I was in an unfamiliar environment. And now, you’re the one who needs to get familiar with the surroundings.

MC: In Loveland City, you need to stick close to me, your host!

The footsteps behind me closely follow, and after a moment, a voice interspersed with helplessness and amusement pass by my ear.

Man (Victor): [extremely helpless, indulgent chuckle]  …dummy.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-15】

The sunlight seeps through the cracks between branches and leaves, casting warm and cozy light and shadows onto the city in the afternoon.

I purchase a set of casual clothes for Vic-Vic. After changing out of that weathered suit, we step out of the store. As we walk, I pause and gesture towards the faraway direction.

MC: That direction leads to the central hospital. It’s only a ten-minute walk straight ahead. There's also a square in the vicinity, which is perfect for leisurely strolls and relaxation...

My fingertips dance in the air, gently tapping on the distant skyscrapers.

MC: See that building? That’s LFG, the number one financial giant in the country!

MC: It has ventured into many industries. My company was on the brink of bankruptcy, but fortunately, we received their capital injection and made a remarkable comeback…

The man listens quietly, his gaze lingering on the imposing silhouette of the building for a long, long time, as if lost in deep rumination. There is a touch of wistfulness in his eyes and the faint furrow of his brows.

As I watch his silent profile, a sudden pang of unbearable emotions pierces through my heart.

What would this person’s life have been like in the past? Would it have mirrored his current demeanor, occasionally taking moments to pause and gaze at the distant scenery?

While I don’t know what he must have been through that shaped him into his current state, I can’t help feeling that he shouldn’t be so lonely and alone.

The mirage he saw, the person he’s been relentlessly searching for, must surely be someone who had been by his side all along, right?

A bitter tang involuntarily overwhelms my heart. I let out a quiet sigh, speaking softly.

MC: Well, since there’s no rush anyway, let’s rest here for a while.

MC: First, I’ll buy some things for you nearby. I’ll come back to find you shortly. Wait for me here, okay?

The man remains silent and simply gives a quiet nod.

I hurriedly dash to the nearby supermarket and pick up some essential daily supplies. Inadvertently, my gaze sweeps across the store windows, but I don’t see his figure.

I can’t help but freeze for a moment, setting down the shopping basket under the perplexed gaze of the shop assistant, and hastily rush out of the store.

…was he ostracized and forced back into that disordered space? Or did he run into some kind of danger?

As my pace involuntarily quickens more and more, I trot back to the footbridge, anxiously looking around in all directions.

Amidst scattered pedestrians on the stairs and the dense dancing shadows of trees on the street corners… until my gaze crosses over the bushes by the roadside, I finally spot that figure.

He is half-squatted in the sandpit at the center of the street park, his gaze lowered as he observes something intently.

Encircled by the playful and joyous children, his tall, slender physique seems somewhat inharmonious. Yet, he remains completely unaffected, silently gazing at the palm of his hand.

It feels as if my heart, which was hanging in the air, has finally found its place to settle. I release a long-awaited breath of relief and quickly cross the road, taking a few quick strides until I reach him.

MC: How did you end up here? You scared me.

Man (Victor): A kid suddenly kicked his ball onto the road, and I stopped it.

As he says this, his gaze remains fixed on the sand particles in his hand, as if he is lost in memories.

Unable to resist my curiosity, I find myself squatting down beside him, asking him softly.

MC: You’ve been staring at it in a daze. Did it trigger any memories for you?

Man (Victor): No… but it feels somewhat familiar.

Man (Victor): It feels like… I may have experienced something similar in the past.

Something slightly stirs inside me, and a blurry silhouette seems to appear before my eyes. Despite my efforts to recollect, the details elude my memory.

MC: It’s probably a sense of déjà vu.

MC: I have this persistent feeling that I used to play like this when I was a kid.

I speak while patting the sand mound several times, and with my fingertips, I causally poke a few holes and mold them into a rudimentary sandcastle.

MC: For instance, playing soccer or building sandcastles… it seems like these games are an integral part of everyone’s childhood.

The man’s eyes land on the outline of the sandcastle, and a flicker of light dances within his gaze.

He remains silent and simply loosens his grip, allowing the fine sand to slowly trickle through his fingers. Then, he turns his gaze to my empty palms. 

Man (Victor): What about the things you went to buy?

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-16】

I follow his gaze, and feeling a bit embarrassed, I place my hands behind my back.

MC: I was in such a rush to find you that I left before settling the bill.

MC: …you’re not allowed to call me a “dummy”!

Before the man can say anything, I fix my gaze on his somewhat helpless expression and subconsciously begin to refute. He gives me a slightly teasing glance and speaks in a low voice.

Man (Victor): Seems like someone feels guilty.

MC: This is called “taking precaution in advance”! It’s not like you haven’t said it before, remember?

MC: Let’s go. It’s not too late to go together now, and you can also pick some other items that might come in handy.

I counter with a self-righteous air, and upon hearing the man with apparent helplessness, he unhurriedly follows behind me.

I can’t help but curl up the corners of my lips, and my steps also become a little brisker.

??: It’s been a while, QUEEN.

Hearing that word now makes me startled like a skittish bird. I involuntarily hold my breath and look toward the source of the sound.

A young man stands next to the display window of a designer toy store, his emerald green eyes firmly locked on me.

He appears very young, but there is a serenity in his eyes that belies his age.

MC: Who are you? Have we met before?

Eos: In this world, you can address me as Eos. To be precise, this marks our first encounter.

The young man’s reply is delivered in an unhurried manner, carrying a sense of calmness that seems out of sync with the fast-paced times.

Eos: During our previous encounter in the Land of Advent, I faced various constraints and could only appear cloaked. I apologize for any inconvenience caused.

–

[Tidbits]: Eos is referring to S2 CH 37; but now they remember it as erased and altered of the details where Victor was involved~ (┳Д┳)

–

Eos… the Land of Advent?

With these words, the memories of that moment when I was forced to reveal my identity in front of the main gods come rushing back to me.

Once again, as I recall the disheveled and anxious state from that time, my jaws tighten slightly.

At this moment, the man seems to sense the stalemate between me and Eos. He stands behind me and gently pats my shoulder.

A sudden boost of confidence surfaces in my restless heart. I subtly shake my head to reassure the man and lift my gaze to look at Eos.

MC: So, the great generation of the first gods reveals himself to me in his true form. What message do you have for me?

Eos: It just so happens that I spotted you, and I was wondering if you could do me a favor.

As if not picking up on the sarcasm in my tone, Eos points to a doll displayed in the shop window.

Eos: I wish to purchase this, but I’m unsure why, the shop assistant informed me that I’m not eligible.

MC: …

I didn’t anticipate the other party to speak in this kind of a deadpan tone about such a matter. But I still muster my patience and go over to take a look at the label.

MC: This doll is a merchandise from a virtual reality game developed by a company called Infinite.

MC: You need to buy their blind box first, which has a chance of containing closed beta experience vouchers for the game. Then, within the game, you can obtain the eligibility to make the purchase…

MC: In short, it’s not something you can simply buy with money.

Eos: So that’s how it is…

Eos casts a glance at the game promotional poster on the side and shakes his head.

Eos: The commercial norms in this world are far more intricate than what I observed in my records, yet the technological advancement is so far behind… never mind, it’s a waste of time.

What is this person talking about? Could it be that he came from another world?

As I ponder in my mind, Eos’s green eyes happen to shift onto my face.

Eos: Speaking of which, there are traces of fragments from many worlds on you. Have you been on a trip recently?

MC: What trip… hold on, how do you know I’ve recently traveled to many worlds?

Eos: The spacecraft Bennu, which I traveled on, was constructed using the power of QUEEN to establish interdimensional travel routes. As the QUEEN yourself, it’s natural for you to go on such trips.

–

[Tidbits]: The spacecraft Bennu is a reference to West Moon CH 10; where MC’s master aka Eos, explained to her how Victor had used his heart’s blood and the Demon King’s Pact to tear open the space-time rift caused by “Bennu” flying and sent the QUEEN aka MC to the past~ (┳Д┳)

–

I’m slightly taken aback by the person’s sudden matter-of-fact tone. Why is he suddenly being so prompt with his responses?

Although the answers don’t quite align with what I was expecting, I’m able to extract the key point from them––

This person is very familiar with navigating through different worlds.

— could it be possible to take advantage of the information gap between me and him to trick him into divulging something?

I swiftly glance at the man next to me. Perhaps I can also help him retrieve some of the things that belong to him.

MC: Haha, yeah, but it’s still quite laborious for me to travel between worlds. After all, I still need to navigate through disordered space during the transition.

Eos: Disordered space?

A trace of surprise crosses Eos’s face when he hears the term, but it doesn’t seem like he is unfamiliar with it.

Eos: It seems that you haven’t yet found the correct approach to utilize your power, which is why you find yourself in that realm of exile.

Eos: It’s best to steer clear of that place.

MC: Why should I steer clear?

Eos: It’s not safe. If you meet someone who has been banished by time there, your own time and space regulations will be disrupted.

Eos: And if you have prolonged interaction with someone who doesn’t exist in this world, even as QUEEN, you will still be affected.

People banished by time? Someone who doesn’t exist in this world? He couldn’t be referring to someone like Vic-Vic, could he?

A pang of bitterness wells up in my heart, and I anxiously press for more information.

MC: Is it possible for those who have been banished to return to their original world?

Eos: I’m not sure. I haven’t encountered a similar situation.

Eos’s voice pauses, and there’s a touch of interest in his tone.

Eos: Have you met someone like that?

MC: No, no.

I immediately deny it. Even though his tone is friendly now, I can’t forget the previous instance where he had provided assistance only to backstab later.

MC: I just… uh…

Man (Victor): You can say that you’re curious whether your power, in turn, would have an impact on the banished individuals.

As I find myself stumbling for words, a deep voice lands in my ear. I hastily repeat what he says. Eos mulls it over for a moment.

Eos: You can try to get that person to establish a connection with the world.

Eos: With someone to bind them, there may be a reason for them to leave their mark on the world.

MC: A bond, huh… I understand now. Thank you.

Although I’m unsure of why he is being so generous this time, I still politely thank him.

After glancing at the toy in the display window again, Eos lifts his foot and walks past me. However, just as he brushes by, he suddenly stops and offers me a smile.

Eos: If you make any progress with that person who has been banished, you can contact me. It used to be one of my research alternatives as well.

His radiant green eyes seem to pierce through my face and fixate on the figure of “non-existent” Vic-Vic behind me.

Before I can gather my thoughts, Eos has already turned around and walked into the crowd, disappearing from sight in an instant.

I blink my eyes and turn around, forcing a wry smile as I look at the man.

MC: Unfortunately, he didn’t tell us much useful information either…

Man (Victor): It’s okay. It’s already enough.

The man withdraws his gaze from the spot where EOS has disappeared and speaks softly.

Man (Victor): Didn’t you say we were going to the supermarket? Let’s go.

I nod my head. But as the supermarket gets closer and closer, I find myself unconsciously slowing down my steps.

Once he settles down, doesn’t that mean he will have established a connection with the world?

Does that mean he will no longer need me in his future life?

Almost as if guided by a mysterious force, I point towards the riverbank not far away.

MC: …I-I just remembered that there’s an event tonight on the cruise ship, and I can you take there.

MC: We can buy daily necessities later. Would you like to go and see the river view?

I glance at the person next to me and extend an invitation as I pretend to be natural. But the ending notes of my voice trail off involuntarily.

A silence envelopes my ears, and the man doesn’t respond. I begin to feel a little apprehensive, but a moment later, I hear him speak.

Man (Victor): [chuckles very softly and a little knowingly]  Hmm, then let’s see the night of Loveland City.

–

[Anika’s Notes]: !!! Despite all the obviously painful call-backs, this “the feeling of the whole city under your feet at night dispels your anxiety” call-back somehow pierces my kokoro in places I cannot explain––  (┳Д┳)

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-17】

The river water glistens, and the cruise ship docked beside the pier is also bathed in the twilight. Vaguely, we can see a few scattered shadows on the deck.

I straighten my skirt and hand the electronic invitation on my phone to the waiter. They quickly scan it, and a warm smile lightens up their face.

Waiter: Miss MC, welcome aboard!

Waiter: The meals and drinks are all prepared. Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy. The ship will depart shortly.

I nod and leisurely step onto the gangway. It’s only when there is nobody around do I quietly whisper to the person next to me.

MC: How is it? The scenery here is very beautiful, isn’t it~

The man gazes at the scenery on both sides, and a subtle smile carrying a sense of solace graces his eyes. It’s an expression I’ve rarely seen on him.

Man (Victor): [laughs softly]  It’s not bad.

As I watch his rarely relaxed side profile, the corners of my lips can’t help but curl up slightly. I tilt my head and gaze at the scenery on the river.

The lights in the nearby and far-off office buildings are lit up, creating shimmering reflections on the river’s surface, reminiscent of a flowing galaxy. The sound of a steam whistle shatters the brief silence as the cruise ship slowly moves forward.

The realization of having to part with him upon reaching the shore dominates my thoughts. I involuntarily smooth down my windblown hair while fixating my gaze on the river’s surface, speaking softly.

MC: After you’ve settled into your place, you’ll need to think about your source of income, right? If you need any help, you can come to me for anything.

MC: [MC’s Company Name] sometimes needs to conduct undercover interviews, and you should be able to handle them with ease.

Man (Victor): Are you this worried for just about anyone?

MC: …I certainly am not. It’s the fact that I’ve been through “life and death perils” together with you, so I’ll do the best of my abilities to help.

While speaking, a faint rumble suddenly emanates from my stomach. I cough lightly and shift the subject as if nothing has happened.

MC: I just noticed they’ve set up a buffet over there. Tonight, you can indulge yourself in a sumptuous feast!

Man (Victor): [chuckles teasingly]  I suppose it’s not me who wants to indulge in a sumptuous feast, is it?

As I listen to his proficient teasing, a momentary glimpse of something seems to cross my mind, but I’m unable to grasp onto it. I let out a soft “humph” and walk with him to the buffet area, selecting a few dishes.

After just savoring the first bite of the crunchy lamb chop, the succulent and tender flavor instantly causes me to blissfully squint my eyes.

MC: Crispy on the outside, tender on the inside. So yummy!

Man (Victor): [sounds like subconsciously musing to himself]  The lamb meat is fresh and not gamy. Indeed, it’s good. If it’s pan-seared with a little less heat and seasoned with white pepper powder, the texture would be even better.

I find myself somewhat amazed as I listen–– though, to be fair, he has already brought me numerous unexpected surprises.

MC: Were you a food connoisseur before? Or maybe a chef?

He half-jokingly lifts the corners of his lips.

Man (Victor): [chuckles teasingly]  What? Do you still need to hire a chef?

MC: Well, it’s not entirely off the table…

??: Miss MC.

I haven’t yet finished my sentence when I hear a cordial greeting suddenly coming from behind me. I turn around and find myself facing a man dressed in a suit who holds glasses of wine, approaching me with a beaming smile on his face.

Taking a few steps forward, he seamlessly positions himself in the gap between me and the man.

Man (Victor): [clearly irritated by the audacity]  …

The man furrows his brows slightly. Without showing any outward sign, I silently take a half-step back, the corners of my lips curling into a subtle professional smile.

Sun Jing: The name’s Sun Jing, the one who contacted you via email. Thank you so much for doing us the honor of attending this networking event.

MC: Thank you as well for providing this opportunity to admire the night view. On that note, your company has quite a reputation in the advertising industry.

MC: Our company is currently exploring potential new advertising partners for the upcoming year. I was wondering if there might be an occasion for us to work together?

Sun Jing smiles, and with perfect composure, he hands me one of the wine glasses.

Sun Jing: Absolutely. It’s just that the price quote for this year hasn’t been finalized yet. Once it goes through the departmental review, it will still need to be passed on to the board of directors for approval.

MC: Is that how it is? Well, in that case, please let us know as soon as there are any updates so that we can make the preparations accordingly.

Sun Jing: For sure. I’m also looking forward to the prospect of collaborating with a reputable company like [MC’s Company Name].

As Sun Jing speaks, his gaze casually sweeps over the wine glass in my hand. And then he turns around and walks away.

I withdraw my gaze and subtly straighten my posture.

MC: Ahem, did you hear that? [MC’s Company Name] is well-regarded in the industry. Once you’ve settled in, you can consider the proposal I just made.

I lift my wine glass as I speak, but the man stops me before it can touch my lips.

Man (Victor): There is something a little odd about what that person said.

MC: What do you mean?

Perplexed, I elevate my gaze and observe the man as he watches the other’s party’s receding figure, furrowing my brows slightly.

Man (Victor): The price quotes of advertising agencies vary depending on the scale and type of projects, and there is no standardized flat rate quote listed in a table.

Man (Victor): The board of directors only focuses on reviewing and approving operational decisions, and they rarely get involved in documents of this nature.

MC: …how do you have such detailed knowledge about this? 

Man (Victor): Just intuition.

The man withdraws his gaze while he speaks, but his tone carries an unquestionable sense of certainty.

Man (Victor): His words just now don’t hold up when examined closely.

Man (Victor): Are you sure he is the person you interacted with regarding business matters?

MC: Kiki was the one in charge of handling the coordination before, and I actually haven’t met him before…

The evening breeze from the river seems to give me a start, suddenly putting me on high alert. I scan the surroundings without betraying any emotions and can’t help but break out into a cold sweat.

Perhaps his words have triggered a sense of suspicion in me, as I can’t shake the feeling that the bearings of the guests on the ship seem somewhat unnatural.

Feigning an expression of watching the riverside scenery, I speak to the man.

MC: Something doesn’t feel right. I have this nagging feeling that quite a few people here are keeping a close eye on me?

Man (Victor): Why don’t we verify it, then? The area behind the cabin is a blind spot where your view can be obstructed. Let’s go there and wait for a few minutes.

Man (Victor): If they really entertain ulterior motives, they might also come closer to ensure you remain within their sight range.

After pondering for a moment, I act as if the wind is making me cold and shiver, positioning myself towards one side of the cabin.

The heavy iron plates separate me from the view of others. I suppress my wildly beating heart and carefully observe the long, narrow aisle.

Sure enough, footsteps resonate outside the passageway. Several guests seem to nonchalantly walk nearby, but their gazes dart toward me intermittently.

…it’s not just unfounded suspicion. These people are indeed observing my every move.

I exhale a light breath, watching as the man wanders among the guests for a while, seemingly listening intently to something. As he approaches me, his face takes on a graver demeanor.

MC: Did you hear anything just now?

The man glances at those suspicious-looking individuals.

Man (Victor): Almost everyone on the ship is Mr. Sun’s people.

Man (Victor): Something was also added to the drink he gave you earlier.

I slightly tighten my grip on the wine glass, my heart tightening as well.

To rephrase this, I was ensnared in a trap from the moment I set foot on this cruise ship.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-19】

Beneath the drapery of the night, silence permeates the river’s surface, occasionally cut through by the slow sailing of one or two cruise ships. But they always remain at a considerable distance.

Currently, calling for help may not ensure our escape from danger and could instead beat the grass to scare the snakes.

I force myself to calm down and lift the wine glass to my lips, speaking in a hushed tone.

MC: We need to make them expose their intentions so that we can act accordingly, don’t you think?

The man seems to realize something, as a subtle sense of disapproval crests between his eyebrows.

Man (Victor): Pretending to be unconscious is equivalent to surrendering the initiative, which involves a significant amount of risk.

MC: Of course, I’m aware of that. But, it’s only when I successfully “become unconscious” that they can lower their guard and reveal their true color.

MC: As for the risks… with an exclusive trump card like you by my side, I have nothing to fear.

MC: Perhaps you are the god sent from the heavens to protect me.

I pretend to remain calm as I speak, but my voice betrays a barely perceptible tremor. The man’s gaze lands on my face, and he suddenly speaks.

Man (Victor): [sighs, carrying an undertone of complex emotions]  Does this classify as employment?

I freeze for a moment, but then I smile, slightly raising my lips.

MC: Mhm, I’ll pay you ten times your regular salary.

I speak while raising the glass, pretending to have finished the drink under the watchful eyes of the individuals at different proximities.

Then, I pretend to lean against the railing, giving the impression of being slightly drunk. After a brief moment, I hear him remind me.

Man (Victor): Mr. Sun is checking his watch; it’s about time.

Steeling my heart, I shut my eyes and topple straight backward.

At the right moment before I would’ve landed on the deck, the pain I anticipated didn’t hit me. Instead, my back is gently cradled by a touch.

Man (Victor): [the tone of “Victor-indulgent-exasperation”]  Are you a dummy? Couldn’t you have fallen sideways?

As I surreptitiously pout my lips, I hear a brief lull in the distant conversations, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Man (Victor): He is coming towards you.

Man (Victor): Relax a bit, don’t squeeze your eyes shut so tightly. The quivering of your eyelashes is too obvious.

MC: …

Heeding the suggestion, I adjust my expression accordingly. Almost immediately, I hear Mr. Sun’s probing voice ringing out.

Sun Jing: Miss MC? Are you feeling unwell?

Sun Jing: Do you need me to call a doctor for you? Miss MC?

I remain completely motionless, my eyes shut tightly, letting him impatiently call out to me several times without giving out any reaction whatsoever.

After a brief silence in my ears, a cold snort reaches me. The anxiety in Sun Jing’s voice has now been replaced by a frigid coldness.

Sun Jing: All good, she’s passed out.

Sun Jing: Hurry and tie her up. You guys, go to the cockpit.

As his words echo, my wrist is gripped without warning, and I’m dragged a few steps before being forcefully pushed, causing my back to collide with the wall.

In front of me is pitch-black darkness, with only the sensation of coldness coursing through my wrist. Then, in the next second, something rough and coarse coils around my wrist.

I exert myself to restrain my shudder and hear a familiar voice speak up.

Man (Victor): [softly]  Don’t be afraid, it’s just a rope. He doesn’t have any weapons to harm you with.

With the reassuring certitude, my strained nerves are finally able to relax a little.

While my eyes remain shut, I hear hurried footsteps fading away and then returning, followed by someone speaking in a low voice.

??: Boss, everything has been set up.

Sun Jing: Then don’t waste any more time. Lower the speedboat immediately.

Sun Jing: The only way we can ensure the organization’s efforts were not in vain is by pushing the blame for this woman’s death onto those people.

Organization… could they be members of GR? Or is it BS?

Sun Jing: When the moment comes, and NW finds evidence pointing to BS, it will be a spectacle to watch those Evolvers fighting like dogs amongst themselves!

Given their hostile attitude towards Evolvers, undoubtedly, they are from GR. But why would they want NW to implicate BS?

As my thoughts are racing at lightning speed, I suddenly hear the man speak in a low voice.

?? (Victor): How did it come to a point where even lives are at stake?

?? (Victor): Is this the “industry giant structure” you want to recruit me into?

MC: …

I exhale slowly, still maintaining an expressionless face as if I were in a deep state of unconsciousness, and listen to the footsteps gradually receding into the distance.

The surroundings lapse into quietude, and I can faintly hear the sound of the waves.

Man (Victor): Don’t be scared, they’ve all left.

Accompanied by the sound of his voice, the rope tightly binding my wrists is sliced into several segments, falling onto the deck.

I heave a sigh of relief and open my eyes, only to see that the deck that was brimming with laughter and voices earlier has suddenly become devoid of any human presence.

The only sound present is the sound of the ship cutting through the waves, enveloping us from all directions.

MC: Where have they all gone?

Man (Victor): They have already disembarked from the ship.

I cast a suspicious glance across the desk but don’t notice any peculiarities. After mulling for a moment, I turn to him with a hint of helplessness.

MC: It’s often said that a bystander can see things more objectively than those involved. Can you help me analyze the current situation?

Man (Victor): [visibly taken aback]  …this is a matter of life and death. Are you sure you want to seek the help of someone you’ve only known for such a short time?

MC: It’s stemmed from my trust in you! Furthermore, judging from what we’ve just experienced, I think you have strong analytical abilities.

The man arches his eyebrow slightly, suggesting he has no objections.

MC: Actually, I have a special kind of power in me…

I try to organize my words as comprehensively and succinctly as possible, explaining to him the “CORE” in me, the attacks by GR, and the persistent undercurrents in this ostensibly peaceful world.

MC: …lately, GR’s actions have either been forced to cease or they have failed to achieve their goal.

MC: I initially thought they would lay low for some time, but today they hastily devised this plan…

The man ruminates intently for a while, then shakes his head.

Man (Victor): Based on what you’ve told me, it seems more like they are already at the end of their rope.

MC: What?

Man (Victor): I’m unclear about the backgrounds of these organizations you mentioned. But in the business world, well-operated companies usually proceed in any direction with caution and thorough planning.

Man (Victor): Conversely, companies that have existing problems are more likely to take risks in order to secure funding.

Deep in contemplation, I prop my chin with one hand, my tone unconsciously tinged with admiration as I speak.

MC: How come I didn’t consider it from this angle before? Indeed, this sort of radical behavior can be explained if they’re in a do-or-die situation.

MC: Your analysis is so strategically discerning… who knows, maybe you were in charge of a company that was even more formidable than LFG!

A smile, carrying with it a hint of helplessness, steaks through the man’s eyes.

Man (Victor): [chuckles helplessly]  Exaggerating again.

MC: I’m being serious, you––

My words are abruptly interrupted by the sound of machinery operating beneath my feet. Accompanied by a slight vibration, the cruise ship, which has been at a standstill, suddenly resumes its functions.

Caught off guard, I find myself falling onto the sofa and grasping the railing with one hand, a hint of nervousness taking over my voice.

MC: Weren’t those people already gone?

MC: Then how could the cruise ship be moving forward on its own?

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅���────•

—

【CH 46-20】

The cruise ship races through the river, swiftly cutting through the layers of waves like an arrow. In the distance, the pier begins to come into view, its outline faintly becoming visible amidst the darkness of the night.

The man and I quickly rush towards the cabin. But as soon as we open the door to the cockpit, we can’t help but be frozen in place.

On the massive dashboard, dozens of push buttons are densely arranged, and the text on them has become blurred and difficult to read.

The clock inlaid on the edge seems to be coated with a layer of oily film, flickering with a dim, red light.

I hurriedly take several steps forward, while my eyes dart around anxiously.

MC: Why are there no signs anywhere…

The man lifts his hand and grasps the helm, making a forceful turn without the slightest hesitation. Despite so, the cruise ship shows no sign of steering whatsoever and continues its direct course to advance toward the pier.

Man (Victor): …the navigation system is locked, and the helm now is just a mere ornament.

While we are talking, the outline of the pier becomes increasingly clear on our horizon. If this continues, the cruise ship will inevitably collide with the pier, resulting in a public accident!

I anxiously open my phone and begin searching. I can feel my fingertips tremble.

MC: Operating instructions… there must be driving manuals or guides available online for this type of cruise ship…

Man (Victor): I’ll give it a shot.

My head shoots up, a flicker of consternation crossing my eyes.

MC: You…

Man (Victor): There are many things I don’t remember, but it seems like I have a sense of how things are done.

Man (Victor): It’s like the feeling I had when I could detect the loopholes in those peoples’ conversations before. I have an analogous feeling now too.

Man (Victor): Are you willing to take a gamble with me?

A familiar conversation echoes in my ears, only this time, the person who has to respond is myself.

I find myself struggling to curl my lips into a smile, gazing into his eyes.

MC: Absolutely! Although I don’t know why, I feel like everything will be alright with you here.

The man nods and stands in front of the dashboard for a brief moment before decisively pressing several buttons.

The sound of the control keys reverberates intermittently, while the red light on the dashboard casts a flickering reflection on the glass, sending waves of alarms through the mind.

I stand nervously on the side, watching as the bow of the ship approaches the direction of the pier at top speed. After the man presses a certain lever, there is a sudden jolt, and the speed gradually slows down.

My tense shoulders instantly loosen to some extent, and only then do I take a breath and exhale.

MC: I’m overthrowing my previous assumptions. With such skill in operating the ship, you must’ve been a wealthy magnate who owned multiple cruise ships.

The man glances at me, his jawline beaded with a sheen of sweat.

Man (Victor): Chef, CEO, wealthy magnate… how many more guesses do you have about my identity?

MC: After all, it seems like there’s nothing in this world that you can’t do!

I lean back against the wall as I speak, relaxing myself. Without meaning to, my palm supports itself on the surface of the clock casing in the corner of the control panel, staining it with a layer of grime.

I lower my head to wipe it off, but as I look closely, I notice the time jumping from 0:21 to 0:20 on the cleaned dial.

…are the digits on it moving backward?

As soon as this realization dawns on me, a wave of chillness instantly crawls through my entire body.

Accompanied by a deafening explosion, the colossal hull of the ship shakes violently, almost causing us to tumble in a downward trajectory.

As I stagger and careen to the side, my head collides with a warm chest. A hand swiftly shields my shoulder, pulling me into an embrace and keeping me away from the oncoming blast waves.

I don’t know how many minutes have gone by before the noise finally calms down. I rise to my feet, placing a hand over my numb chest in lingering fear, and then I hear the man speak in a deep voice.

Man (Victor): Move cautiously and stay alert to any sounds in the surroundings.

Man (Victor): If I were the one and my intention was to kill the person, I wouldn’t have just orchestrated a single round of explosion.

My heart can’t help but sink. The man helps me up, and we both survey our surroundings from all directions.

Man (Victor): The lower compartment beneath the ship’s hold must have already taken in water. Let’s go to the stern first.

Man (Victor): The fire will draw attention from nearby rescue teams. There should be people arriving before the ship sinks.

I nod indiscriminately, steadying myself against the nearby wall, and begin walking towards the stern along the now slightly tilted deck.

After taking a few steps, I suddenly hear a subtle sloshing sound amidst the waves.

My heart tightens. At lightning speed, I lean over the railing to peer outside, and my eyes are met with the sight of another box flickering with a terror-striking red light, pulsating in sync with the ship’s tumultuous motion.

The digits on the display have already jumped from 0:05 to 0:004. Knowing there’s no time to actually turn my head, I let out a violent shout.

MC: Watch out! There’s another bomb here!

An ear-shattering explosion erupts, and I’m hurled forcefully to the ground. My ears are flooded with a buzzing noise as I struggle to lift my head, only to find myself confronted by a searing surge of heat.

Instinctively, I use my arms to shield my head, bracing myself for the anticipated pain.

–– ***[the BGM pauses here for a few seconds, giving the impression as if your heart itself has stopped beating]***

All of a sudden, an astounding silence descends upon the surroundings, as if someone has pressed the pause button on the world.

I slowly open my eyes and see the crimson flames frozen motionless in the air. Countless luminous sparks and shattered shards of glass hang suspended, creating a spectacle of twinkling lights and shadows.

Amidst the frozen firelights, the man rushes towards me, his anxious eyes reflecting my figure.

I find myself in shock as I take everything in. It’s not until he reaches my side that I mumble––

MC: What did you do?

Man (Victor): [voice literally shaking like an earthquake]  I have no idea…

He casts his eyes down, gazing at his own palm, his eyes reflecting a mixture of complex emotions. After a brief moment, he finally speaks.

Man (Victor): No, I know.

Man (Victor): [voice still shaking]  I might have… paused time.

MC: Paused time…

I feel as if a key has opened a small crack, allowing a hazy light to shine into the murky depths of sealed memories.

–

[Tidbits]: Just a refresher— the memories MC describes here are the call-backs to S2 CH 25 (will come back to this later)~ ╥﹏╥

–

Not so long ago, amid the chaotic ruins, it appeared as though there was someone resolutely standing in front of me.

His voice pierced through the mayhem of falling rubbles, shouting my name over and over again;

The palm that reached out to me was oozing vivid red blood, enveloping me tightly in his arms;

I make a desperate effort to remember that almost palpable figure, but my mind seems to be covered by a heavy layer of dust.

Tears rain down unknowingly, and an indistinct ache lingers in a certain corner of my heart. I grasp the man’s hand in anguish and helplessness, holding onto it like a drowning person clinging to a piece of driftwood.

MC: [sobbing]  Why…

Why… who exactly are you?

Within the solidified flames, a black vortex suddenly materializes, accompanied by the unprompted sound of a mechanical violin. From within it, a person with hazed facial features walks out unhurriedly.

MC: …Zero?

I find myself momentarily stunned, as a slight sense of dissonance flickers in my mind. Why do I know this person’s name?

However, the other party’s gaze doesn’t rest on me but instead turns towards the person beside me.

Zero: [to Victor]  This is not a place where you can stay.

The black vortex abruptly swallows half of the man’s form, and Zero’s voice rises.

Zero: [to MC]  This is the inevitable price that Victor must bear… and so must you.

With the sound of these words, the speed of the swirling vortex suddenly accelerates.

MC: Wait… wait a moment, VICTOR!!

Without a moment’s thinking, I yell out this name instantly, as if I’ve uttered this name hundreds and thousands of times before.

MC: [sobbing]  I will definitely find you again!

Through the murky haze, I see the man’s head snap up. He parts his lips as if he is trying to say something.

In the next moment, his figure completely disappears into the vortex.

—

[Note]: CH 46 ends here, and it cuts into the next chapter. The following 2 monologues are about Victor, so I thought to include them~ :>

—

The hustle and bustle of the world resumes, making me feel a little disoriented.

The burning flames sting my eyes. However, no matter what, it cannot erase that disappearing figure from my mind.

BANG––

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

✧ [Anika’s Analysis + Ramblings] ✧

this is long, like really really long. so a big hug from me beforehand haha ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

—

[tmbgareok]

Silly question, but as someone who grew up during the golden age of TV theme songs, I'm curious - what's your favorite(s)?

Sure! Off the dome...

Twilight Zone (the second season and after, I guess, with the guitars. The one made famous by the Ventures)

Gigantor (Japanese animated series)

Addams Family - written by Vic Mizzy, the composer of In the Middle (which we covered on the No! album) as well as Green Acres.

Time Tunnel (by Johnny Williams AKA John Williams)

The theme to Lost In Space (also Johnny Williams). Like the Twilight Zone, this is the improved, second season theme.

Perry Mason

Naked City

The Monkees

Hawaii Five-O

...I could ponder this for an hour but I gotta watch Succession!

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Victoria "Vic" Larsson Species: Vampire Occupation: Stay at Home Mom / Window Painter Age: 310 Years Old (Looks about 30) Played By: Julie Face Claim: Alicia Vikander

"Sooner or later, everyone sits down to the banquet of consequences."

Some people weren’t meant to be parents.  In 2024, if Vic had been a fool who tried therapy, that’s what one of the quacks would have said.  They would patronize her about childhood, telling her that father’s constant, persistent dismissal of her wasn’t her fault.  Maybe they would ask that she try and grant him grace.  After all, plague-ridden Sweden in 1714 wasn’t peaceful for anyone, especially a man with a dead wife and a stubborn daughter who refused to conform.

But that would’ve been bullshit. 

She didn’t remember when her desperation for his affection flipped to apathy, but before long, she was married off. Never did Victoria think that ego and pompousness could be so entrenched in one disgusting human, but she was learning quickly that life had its way of surprising her.  Victoria hated feeling like she belonged to someone, and some childish piece of her assumed that feeling might go away once she was out of her father’s grip.  It didn’t.

But marriage did have a perk. One that exuded a brightness so strong that Victoria couldn’t deny, not even to a quack 2024 therapist, that she would have picked a marriage to her husband over anyone else.  Because where her husband was a deep, dark boil on the ass of humanity, his sister was the opposite: a constant light, inching its way deeper into Victoria’s heart the longer they spent together. There was always a reason to smile around Lyra, and what started as an innocent fascination turned into an intense entanglement.  Victoria had never felt this way about another person, nor had those feelings ever been reciprocated.  

She should have expected life ripping her away.  But she stupidly got herself caught up in the flurry of it all- the way Lyra made her feel electric with just a touch, or how a simple walk together could make her feel on top of the world… Everything made sense, until it didn’t.  There was no warning before it happened- Lyra never grew cold, nor did she give any indication she wanted what they were doing to stop.  Maybe that’s why her betrayal cut so deep.

Victoria never knew the circumstances that led to her execution.  There was no trial, no chance to plead her case.  No chance to question what was happening..  But there, inches away from death, Victoria was grateful to be done with life and all the bullshit that came with it.

But life loved to play tricks on Victoria. Most of the people who came to watch her die left quickly, satisfied that she was gone.  As soon as Victoria was sure she was leaving this life behind, there was a sudden, sharp pain in her neck, and someone urging her to drink, and she was ushered into another form of entrapment.  

Victoria held a deep resentment for her sire, despite her guidance and adept training.  She was just another being determined to hold her down, and from the beginning, she was the enemy.  Her sire, instead, seemed amused by Victoria’s unwillingness to conform, but this would be her downfall. After years of calculated planning, Victoria got rid of her swiftly and violently, venturing alone after that.

Being a vampire wasn’t easy. From the moment she turned, she had a deep sense that vampires were the truest evil in the world.  The thoughts running through her mind, the fantasies of murdering people in cold blood, the cravings-... it was all too much.  It wasn’t long after gaining control that she decided she needed to destroy anyone who shared her …condition.  The best way to do this, of course, was betrayal.  A victim herself, Vic knew the best ways to destroy vampires: lure them, gain their trust, and turn them to slayers when they least expect it.  There was no counting how many vampires she’d betrayed, unless you counted the sum of money she’d acquired doing so. 

Victoria, now strictly referred to as Vic, found her way to Wicked’s Rest ten years ago, thanks to a tip from a hunter. Normally after that amount of time, she’d find new horizons, but Wicked’s Rest  was a goldmine for her.  She never planned to stick around for so long. It just happened.  It was easy, after a while, to let her guard down.  What started out as a few acquaintances with neighbors or patrons from the bar she worked at quickly developed into friendships that caused her to question everything she believed about the world for centuries.  Soon, Vic was a total wreck, and she’d stopped trying to destroy vampires altogether. 

But the most undeniable turning point in Vic’s journey came one unexpected night when a pair of old friends (hunters she met when she’d first arrived in town) knocked on her door in desperation.  When she reminisced about that night, it was a blur. She could barely remember all that transpired: A bounty on their heads they couldn’t escape from.  No family or friends to care for their baby… And then suddenly, Vic hailed as the solution.  Her first answer was no, of course.  There were numerous ways it could’ve gone wrong, numerous ways to lose control. 

Vic knew more than anyone that some people weren’t meant to be parents.  Least of all her, with her apathy and impatience and general disdain for society.  But before she could realize what she was doing, Vic agreed to take the baby in.  

If living in Wicked’s Rest made Vic go soft, motherhood practically melted her, at least in regards to guilt about her past actions.  Now, Vic was determined to right her wrongs.  Her main efforts went into joining the neighborhood watch, misleading anyone who might have gotten even a whiff of vampire activity. She was still leery about being around other vampires, especially letting a now three-year-old Rosie anywhere in their vicinity, but for the first time in her unlife, she began to feel like she was where she belonged.

Character Facts:

Personality: Scrupulous, resourceful, patient, cynical, vengeful, calculating

She still holds a small job to keep up appearances, but most of Vic's acquired (and quite large) net worth is from her former years trading insider information about fellow vampires and their whereabouts and secrets to hunters

Vic has a deep love of painting, and she spends most of her spare time perfecting the craft. Most of her paintings are of her memories of the flower garden that was planted by her mother back in Sweden.

Vic has a bracelet from her time as a double agent that, when activated, hides her vampire status from slayers for 5 hours. It’s getting old and has the tendency to malfunction, and she’s desperate to find someone who might be able to fix it or secure her a new one soon.

Vic bought her Rottweiler, Winnifred, about 5 years ago, both to act as a guard dog and a threat to those who dare try to speak to her.  No one warned her that Winnie would be the friendliest dog on the planet.

Vic is proud that her adopted 3 year old daughter, Rosie, is bilingual, loves the minions, and has impressive color theory for someone her age.  Vic WILL gloat about her parenting skills whenever the opportunity arises.

[beringandwells13]

Big Bang Story Teaser #5!

For our fifth and last story, to be published on April 23rd, @kloperslegend (writer), @hgandmyka (beta) and @niftybottle (artist) will present you this:

For the first time, Investigator Myka Bering isn’t content to let a case slip away when the feds pull rank. No, not when one of the vics is a family friend, and certainly not when all signs point to a vulgar blend of compromised ethics and venture capital espionage.

As she pursues the two murder cases in secret, it becomes clear that the feds may not be trying to solve the crimes at all. Worse, her findings point to a weapon so foul, so impossible, that even just thinking about it makes her start to feel crazy.

Oh, and Myka’s primary suspect? A single mother by the name of Helena Wells.

Doesn't this sound amazing? Getting a lot of hardboiled vibes from this one!

If you’re as excited as I am, please show your love by reblogging this (go wild in the tags too!) - nothing is more motivating and encouraging for a creator than seeing their work get love and attention! So, let’s all cheer them on on their home stretch!

[justplainwhump]

Just A Fling: Distraction

Because @wildfaewhump has amazing (hot!) characters and Dany just can't keep her hands to herself, here's another spicy AU. In which my Dany and Vic's Peyton have had nothing bad happen to them and are successful rich kids working in their parent's companies. They also happen to have insane chemistry.

[Just A Fling Masterlist]

(Don't worry though, there's plenty whump on the horizon. Peyton isn't exactly a nice guy.)

(This is technically aligned with the "Everything and Nothing" AU of Vic, focusing on Valerian as Peyton's spouse)

Content: (Very) Spicy flirting. A lot of innuendo.

Night has long fallen, and Dany leans back in the leather chair of the hotel bar, staring at the city lights far below. Young Leaders in Management, the conference is called, and it's an honor to be there; chances are a bunch of them will be in next year's "30 under 30" list of top managers. It's hard to truly believe in it, when most of them work for companies that have their parents' name.

People like Peyton Montgomery, 29, CFO of Montgomery Capital. Charlene Lennox, 26, CFO of Baxter, Lennox and partners. Orville Roscoe, 25, whose grandmother put the R in WRU. And herself, Danielle Hammond, 29, COO of the Hammond Group.

Charlene had invited her to dinner over their joint venture building up a freight airline; and as always she'd been a strenuous and utterly un-fun conversation partner, leaving Dany in desperate need of a drink after their meeting had finally ended.

A drink, and a distraction.

She pulls out her phone with a sigh, scrolling down to find the respective apps.

"What are you doing?", Kate asks, suddenly alert. Shes been half asleep before, and Dany almost feels the pang of a bad conscience. Kate is second shift of her security detail, but that still means she's been working all night.

"Bumble." Dany turns her screen for Kate to see. "I need a fuck."

"Dany," Kate groans. "Please, give me a break. You know how hard it is to vet random strangers on the internet? For all I know, any of the men in that app could be a serial killer."

"Well, what else do you suggest?"

"Look at what's right in front of you. How about..." She makes a vague gesture. "Peyton Montgomery? He's sitting at the bar and he checked your ass out twice in the last five minutes alone."

Dany glances over her shoulder through the dim light of the half empty bar, easily spotting Peyton's dark curls. He's sitting at the bar. Alone, it seems - a state that seems entirely wrong for him. At home during any social events, he's the heart of the party; him, his spouse and their elitist circle of old-money friends. She'd never felt any need to belong.

"Pretty sure your line of arguments is flawed," she notes. "Rich boys can be serial killers, too, you know."

"At least I can be sure that he isn't in it for your money." Kate shrugged and pushed her glass of water from one side of the table to the other. "Plus, he lives in the same hotel. Neither of us has to get out in the cold."

Dany sighs and looks at him again. She's attended a panel with him, earlier today, 'Cost cutting by Process Automation'. Arrogant, spoilt, pumped with the casual confidence of those who always got whatever they wanted. He's also got a pretty smile, dry humour, and a way with numbers. And she really likes the way his shirt emphasises his shoulders.

Maybe it's worth a shot.

His head goes up to the mirror over the bar and he smirks, acknowledging her stare. Slowly, not breaking eye contact, he raises his glass to his lips and takes a small sip.

Fuck.

Just for that smirk, she'd swipe him right in any app.

She breaks their eye contact and looks back at Kate, half defeated. "I'll talk to him."

Kate grins and raps her knuckles on the table. "Good luck."

~

"Dany Hammond." Peyton smiles as she steps up next to him. "Really enjoyed that debate with you today. You're up late."

"Thanks. Right back at you. Still not over your cost efficiency argumentation, though. These numbers are obviously -" She bites her lip and shakes her head. Focus. She's here to find something else entirely. "Well you're right with one thing. It's too late to talk business."

"It is." He tilts his head at the empty bar stool next to him. "Let me buy you a drink?"

Dany raises an eyebrow, stepping back to look him down slowly. His shoulders and arms under that expensive shirt look even better up close. He really is her type. "Depends on what your intentions are with that."

He chuckles and returns the favour, taking her in head to toe. "Well... I could certainly come up with some ideas for my... intentions." Peyton glances over her shoulder and raises his glass towards Kate. "I guess it all depends on what your bodyguard back there will let me do to you."

"Ah." Dany clicks her tongue in fake disappointment. "Wrong answer, rich boy."

"Oh?" He narrows his eyes, a hint of a challenge sparking in them. "Depends on what... you'll let me do to you?"

She takes a sip of her drink and tilts her head. "Better."

He's not moving for a moment, simply assessing her, and she wonders if Kate's been wrong.

"Let's say..." He begins, and something to his tone makes a warm shiver run down her spine already. His eyes are firmly on hers now, very carefully observing any reaction. "Let's assume my intentions were to fuck you over every horizontal surface of my suite?"

Dany's heart is racing with anticipation. "Hmmm." Her lip twitches into a smirk. "Then I guess you should order these drinks to go."

Peyton snaps his fingers and signals the bartender without taking his gaze off of her. "You should just know, Dany," He gives her an almost boyish grin, as the bartender scurries back to pick up a bottle. "I was prepared to properly seduce you. I'd have given you the whole nine yards. The words, the smiles, the body language, the touches. People tend to admire my effortless charm."

Dany slides from her chair, their bodies almost touching, but just not, close enough to feel the heat radiating from each other. "Oh I don't have a doubt you're a good actor", she admits, and reaches out, fingertips resting on his chest. "But haven't we found on in that debate that we both rather share a passion for..." She leans in, acutely aware of how her hair falls over his shoulder, how her breath must feel on the skin of his neck. "... efficacy."

He moves faster than she expected, his hand on her hip spinning her around, and then she's pinned between his body and the bar, and it's his mouth that is on her neck, his teeth grazing over her skin.

From the corner of her eye, she sees Kate jump to her feet.

Peyton chuckles, holds out his hand, and a cold bottle of champagne is handed to him.

"Make sure your bodyguard knows not to disturb us," he murmurs into her hair. "We're going to be making a lot of noise."

[kaysters247]

Deadly Inferno {A Patrick Hockstetter Fic}

Part 8 - You and I

Word Count: 1310

Warning: Smut. Not saying it’s good because I don’t usually write it. But I did my best. Lol.

I practically flew home on my my bike in anticipation for the nights ventures with Patrick, a massive smile on my lips from the mere thought of it all. He had promised a night of lust, pain, excitement. And I wasn't about to miss it. Night time was quickly approaching in Derry and that's when the curfew kicked in, one my dad highly enforced. If we weren't in by the time curfew came around, it would be our asses for sure. And I wasn't about to take that risk.

"Where you been all day girl?" I stopped dead in my tracks from dads slurred words in his usual chair, the light from the tv illuminating the room. He'd already gotten five bottles in and wasn't about to be a real problem. At least not right now anyhow.

"Out with Beverly dad. Just spent time swimming and stuff." I practically ran up the stairs from his usual scoff of knowing, knowing I was bullshitting, but too drunk to care. And so drunk that he'll forget ever asking me. I was running so fast that I ran right smack dab into Vic coming out of the bathroom and heading to the stairs himself, my eyes averting to his flustered face. He seemed nervous to even be standing in front of me right now.

"Come on Vic. We can't keep doing this. You're my best friend. Patrick will have to understand that." He looked at me for a brief moment, before suddenly bolting down the stairs like his life depended on it, leaving me in utter annoyance. Great. Vic won't even talk to me anymore. Honestly, I was still miffed about what they did to Ben. I knew it was mostly Henry. But Vic of course wasn't objecting all that much to it out of fear.

"Lost a boy toy sis?" I practically punched Henry in the arm once he came walking by with a humored laugh leaving his lips.

"Can it Hen. I'm still pissed at you anyway." He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look me dead in the eyes with such a scowl on his lips. He was always sick of me messing with his fun times.

"You're nothing but a damn buzzkill Leslie. Fuck, I don't get how you have such a whore reputation when you act like fun is nothing but girly shit. All I know is that you need to stop screwing my friends." I wanted so badly to haul off and hit him, but I simply went to my room and placed a chair under the doorknob so no one could suddenly enter unannounced. Locks weren't aloud in this house, except for the bathroom of course.

"Guess Bub got under your skin huh?" I jumped a little in surprise from Patrick sitting in his usual spot on my bed, his shirt already off and his shoes discarded across the room. And his usual unnerving smirk on his hauntingly handsome face. He rose from the bed in such a stride I had no time to react before he was on me, dragging me to the bed and practically throwing me down on it, looming over me in such a menacing way.

"You know, he's got a point Princess. I mean you really don't listen do you? I told you what would happen if you interfered with anything we do...." He started to rip my clothes from my body, not caring if any questions were asked about my shredded clothes, not letting me speak what so ever. He was so lustful his eyes were practically black at this point. Patrick was lost in the darkness and he wasn't coming back anytime soon.

"And I swear if you even attempt to scream during anything I do, it'll be worse for you. So don't." His zippo was suddenly out of his pocket against my now exposed stomach, the flame trailing from my bra line all the way down my stomach to my underwear. I bit down onto my lip so harshly with my toes curled that I could taste the blood trickling down my throat. He grabbed his shirt long discarded and tied my hands together with it to the best of his ability, his hard on so obvious that it was making me completely drenched. And he knew it.

"I always knew you were it for me Les. You can handle pain. And that turns me the fuck on to the extreme. You feel pain without flinching...." He had my bra ripped off and underwear pulled down my legs so quickly that I barely registered it, watching as he took his pants and boxers off. his dick springing up so fast. I was so turned on that I could barely breathe at this point from my thoughts.

"Patrick please.... Just fuck me already!" He suddenly slapped me across the face, igniting a moan from my lips that honestly shouldn't have happened. But shit if I wasn't a mess right now. He was simply smirking, enjoying causing me pain. But I could see the want in his eyes. He was losing it himself. With one swift motion, he entered me and just went for it, pounding in and out with his hand coming to rest around my neck, knowing I wouldn't scream like that. His movements became so sloppy, but so powerful all at the same time. I always felt like I was being torn apart from how fast he went, how deep he got. With his movements never wavering, he leaned down and started biting my neck so harshly, my mind whirling with so many emotions. Our bodies rubbed together like they were meant to be there the entire time.

"Just because you saved my life, it doesn't mean I owe you anything. So don't act like it! But you're mine Leslie.... So you better start acting like it..." He suddenly leaned back up and went faster and faster, moans escaping my lips. We finally came together, our labored breathing the only thing I could hear in the moment. The slight breeze from my open window a nice soothing touch on my sensitive skin, I could still feel Patrick in me, even when he pulled out.

"I do Pat... I don't fuck anyone else." He simply looked at me, before lighting a candle on my nightstand that he must have brought, letting it melt a little before leaving little drops of melted wax on my tits, my stomach, anywhere he felt like, he left trails of it. I closed my eyes in utter bliss from the mere sensations coursing through my body.

"Not even those losers? Because you sure like to stand up for them." He suddenly put the flame from the wick to my stomach, leaving it in one spot to slowly start to burn, a yelp leaving my lips before he slapped a hand down over my mouth, his demented eyes searching mine in absolute pleasure.

"You're absolutely beautiful Leslie. A beautiful little fuck toy that no one else can touch. You drive me insane. And I don't plan on letting you go... so don't think about it." He finally untied my hands, putting his shirt back on along with his pants, blowing out the candle and placing back on my nightstand for next time. He could have honestly killed me for what I did, helping Ben and all. But he enjoyed the cat and mouse game, just as he said. He doesn't want me dead. He wants me to play with. To hurt. Do anything he pleases. This summer was only getting started.

[writingmaneskin]

have you heard the blind item on revealmoi that dove + Dami are now house shopping in LA? 😭 I think even if someone thought their relationship was real it would still be hard to believe it’s that serious that fast.

Also, thoughts on the disbandment panic now that Vic is DJ touring, etc.? I think it’s totally normal they have side ventures and am not concerned at all but curious what you think!

I'm still not buying the PR bullshit 🤷🏼‍♀️ They can send a million blind items and dates and whatever, it's their business, I just think it's a circus and I am not impressed.

Re: the disbandment - Damiano said in multiple interviews that they will be taking time apart to pursue different projects but he still believes in the band. I haven't seen the others do interviews so we don't know their thoughts but unless something is seriously fucked I doubt that the band would break up.

How come are you curious about my thoughts? 😅

[tordenvejr]

hi vic!! i have a question about dreams. I've had intense nightmares frequently since I was a kid, and I think they're probably related to childhood trauma? but since I don't fully remember any of the incidents that I know happened, idk how to heal it. Regardless of the cause, it'd be nice to not have nightmares constantly. Do you have any ideas/resources for how to make your dreams a safer place? Everything in my life is going great-- idk how to convince my nervous system that it doesn't need to freak out every night. thanks <3

hi! 🌙✨🦢

dreams are us sorting through our subconscious, so healing and tidying up the elements in that space is what we're after.

more peaceful dreams can happen through working through your trauma, regulating your nervous system like you've mentioned, creating more peace in your day-to-day, rewiring thoughts, etc.

starting with trauma work; you can work with your dreams for trauma relief, one of the simplest ways to do this is to write down or audibly record your nightmares in the morning - take note of the moments that had the most emotional discomfort/were most jarring/that makes you feel ice cold or white hot.

then you can either immediately go to trauma release work - or you can venture into when and where you've felt similarly before for more mental clarity. both work, it depends on what you want. do you choose to go back then let whatever is strongest about your dream lead you to the memory (can be an actual memory or more abstarct like a sense of something).

when you're ready to work with your dream or memory, one of the easiest ways is through eft tapping or bilateral stimulation while focusing on the discomfort. you can do all eft points or focus on the EB point for sadness, trauma, restless energy and the UE point for fear and emptiness. you can find illustrations online easily. bilateral stimulation can be tapping both your knees or doing the butterfly hug on your chest.

that's short on trauma release.

on regulating the nervous system, have less input in the evenings (less or no social media, including videos unless it's specifically low tempo and relaxing), so there's less for your mind to process. have pockets of time during your day where you tend to your nervous system, through breath, being outside, meditation, gently pulling on your ears, having your legs up, holding your eyes in the top right corner of your vision field and repeating on the other side, etc.

and for rewiring thoughts, using the window where you're falling asleep and waking up to plant trust and ease in your subconscious, ie. with affirmations of safety.

other than these approaches, going to bed at the same time and not sleeping in (i know, boo) can help have more calm dreams.

wishing you sweet dreams!

[autumnalwalker]

Snippet Share Saturday

Thank you for the tag, @late-to-the-fandom.

Passing the tag to @imbrisvastatio, @blind-the-winds, @silvertalonwritblr, @365runesoftheamalgamations, @cljordan-imperium, and an open tag for anyone else who may want to share a snippet (of any length) from your current WIP.

Here's a bit I wrote today from Empty Names. I had this idea stuck in my head of rapidly giving brief descriptions of a bunch of background characters a means of conveying the feel of a place rather than for the sake of the characters themselves being all that important to the story. Not sure how well that worked out, but it was a fun experiment nonetheless.

Later that evening, after having said goodbye to Sarah for the month, changing back into her usual red tracksuit, and calling to check in on Lacuna and Ashan, Eris is sitting on a barstool at 121813.  

“Twelve eighteen thirteen” is the generally agreed upon pronunciation of the bar’s name, although what the name means is less agreed upon.  The three most popular theories are that it’s either a date (usually speculated as either December of 1813), a scriptural reference (which scripture is a whole other debate), or a leftover address from before one of Crossherd’s major layout shifts.  Lacuna had suggested it might be a tarot thing when Eris told her about it.  The Hanged Man, the Moon, and Death.  An ominous spread, according to Lacuna, but Eris figures it makes as much sense as anything else. 

In any case, Fitzgerald Wilhelm von Harkenstein IV, the establishment’s clockwork owner, proprietor, and bartender always seemed to get too much of a kick out of the speculation to give a solid answer.  Make what jokes you like about a bartender with no taste buds, but Fitzy had drink mixing down to an art.  Then again, he claims to be at least as old as the city of Crossherd itself, so Eris figures he had plenty of time to practice if nothing else. 

For over a century now, 121813 has served as the closest thing to a centralized organization for American monster hunters.  Other parts of the world had holy orders, secret societies, and grand lodges stretching back generations, but in these parts everyone figured that a couple dozen thrill-seeking assholes who all frequent the same bar was good enough to get the job done.  Most hunters usually work solo, but the bar is a good place to brag about kills, show off trophies, swap rumors on potential quarries, and put a band together if you get word on something really nasty.

It’s not peak hours yet and regulars are still trickling in, but there were already a few familiar faces there to greet her when she walked in twenty minutes ago.

Golden-eyed Gretchen who had taught Eris German and how to wield a spear.

Bai of the braided beard who had taken over Eris’s old garbage collecting route when she signed up with Road’s new venture and ever since has been alternating between thanking her for the job referral and complaining that he couldn’t take his axes with him on shift.

Wyatt, whose eyepatch is actually an AR visor to aim assist his crossbow and adjust for weight and aerodynamic differences on specialized bolts.

The green-haired enby twins, Loregahste and Lornega, who favor halberds and hammers respectively but both carry swords as backup sidearms.

Chuck in his ill-fitting trenchcoat, a relative newcomer to the game who’s already earning a reputation for going off on insufferable rants about the superiority of katanas.

The grim-faced Preacher, who never shares his name for fear of theft, never touches a drink that isn’t water, and never hides his disdain for everyone else’s choice of archaic weaponry for the sake of sport when guns were so much more efficient at completing the important work of slaying beasts.

Old Vic, the elven immigrant from off world who’s always down to party like the college kid his face looks the age of.

Plus a handful of others that Eris either isn’t all that close to or doesn’t recognize at a glance.  High turnover rates have always been an unspoken truth amongst the monster hunter community.  It’s been said that there are five fates that await hunters.

One: You die early from a stupid mistake, biting off more than you can chew, or just plain bad luck.

Two: You finally catch up with that one monster that was your reason for taking up the hunt to begin with, and if you survive you walk away, vendetta done.

Three: You have your first near-death experience, confront your mortality, and make the wise decision to get out.

Four: You have your first near-death experience, confront your mortality, and realize you’re hooked on the hunt that will surely kill you one day more than you are on living a long life.

Five: The hunt gradually becomes your whole life and personality until one day you hit a tipping point that causes autogenesis to kick into overdrive, transforming you into a monster yourself in need of putting down by your former comrades.

Everyone at the bar tonight - except maybe Chuck and the other newbies like him who still think they’re invincible - has long since made their peace with the idea that they’ll probably be dead by forty.  Fifty tops.  Other than Old Vic, of course, who’s at least twice that age, but rumors that he’s already secretly met the fifth fate have been flying around since before Eris ever found Crossherd and 121813.  Having been on a funerary hunt with him herself and seen what a hunter consumed looks like, Eris doesn’t put any stock in that speculation.

[widowshill]

B, D, J, K, M, T (doesn't have to be just DS if you don't want it to be!)

A -> Z FANDOM ASKS.

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

it feels like cheating to say any ships that came from rp because 90% of the time there's no way you'd consider them otherwise, but the one that stands out to me is willie and esme (ft. @retrograderesemblance) cherish them, would never have put them together on my own lol.

beyond that, and this doesn't really count for not ever considering it, but I was a w.illabeth disliker until this year, I read several persuasive defenses, and writing lizzie swayed me. so elizabeth herself changed my mind kinda.

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

ok listen. it's s.parrington. i get it intellectually and i see the vision but i just don't like it and i have tried for years it is just not. idk. can't do it.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr.

i hope this is dark shadows to all my treasured mutuals whom i single-handedly inundate with ds content all over their dashes. my answer would be e.lisabeth das musical or honestly like ? robespierre of french history kinda has a stan army on here.

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

ohhh who would i say for ds. maybe roger because he gets domesticated, and makes truly wild strides in his relationship with his son. ( go white boy break that patrilineal curse ). weirdly i also kinda wanna say joe is up there ? he has an interesting journey from Carolyn's Rejected Puppy All American Fish Boy to like ... helping vic investigate laura, being ang's chew toy, having a mental breakdown. and also deeply caring about david! maybe i just like it when people start caring about the kid.

elsewhere it's jimothy norrington. easy. character arc of all time.

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

not many people on this show because that's a death sentence but lowkey.. natalie dupres (josette's "spinster aunt") bc i think we would really get along. fancy french brunches with the gay aunt and we can talk shit about barnabas. even though she would bully me for my french, and rightfully so.

elsewhereeee hmm. alice k.ingsleigh would make a wonderful friend. sybil c.rawley. max b.lack sails.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

most of my headcanons about vicki tbh dan curtis can piss off. namely that girl has autism. she dislikes the task of setting her hair / sleeping on rollers and rarely feels like doing it, but her and carolyn will sometimes set hair for each other for some girl time. roger fencing and liz ice skating. i also know i'm right about specifically vic's and carolyn's music taste (monkees/mamas & the papas/paul revere & the raiders/herman's hermits, and jan&dean/the ventures/elvis/beach boys, respectively). vic is also added in the collins family history. david draws her in after she dies/disappears, and elizabeth has her formally added after she discovers his handiwork.

you can also pry my "elizabeth swann's burgundy dress was esme's" from my cold dead hands ! like. that's such an important one to me sdfgfd.

[imbiowaresbitch]

Make Me

My March entry for Year of the OTP 2023.

Pairing: Dean/Cas

Words: 4785

Summary:

Dean is losing his mind watching Cas help with a case dressed as a paramedic, and manages to put his foot in his mouth over and over again. His distraction leads to a blunder in the hunt, and with Sam down and vampires swarming, Dean desperately prays to Cas. He arrives, and seeing Dean go down, lets loose his grace. With unanticipated results.

~~

Dean was being a cheeky little fucker, and he knew it. Doing that on a hunt was probably not the best idea, but Cas had gotten under his skin. They'd needed someone to slip in as a paramedic to get a look at the victim who'd been saved, and one glance at Cas' biceps straining the fabric of the short sleeved uniform had all of Dean's blood rushing from his brain to his dick. Sammy had literally smacked him up the back of the head to stop his drooling, and Dean knew he was done for.

So of course, he said something sarcastic.

"We're supposed to be saving people, not giving the vic a heart attack!" he declared, his tone just a little too biting.

Cas' expression when he looked at Dean was almost hurt. Dean wanted to kick himself. He tried to backpedal, and in his usual fashion, made it worse.

"I mean, uh… Just, no one will buy you bein' a paramedic flashing guns like that," he said quickly, flashing a grin and firing a couple finger guns for good measure. Cas had to get the right idea now.

Cas gave him an unimpressed look and turned to leave. Dean fixated on that incredible ass, not to mention the thick thighs that dared the seams of his pants to make one wrong move. He may or may not have whimpered. Sam smacked him again.

So here he and Sam were, about to venture into the nest of vampires, and Dean was itching with nervous tension. He needed to focus, or this was gonna be a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

It was a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

~~

Read the rest on AO3!

Thanks for the beta, @cr-noble-writes !

[forathousanddays]

Pierce The Veil - Misadventures (Review)

For nearly the entire lifespan of post-2000 alternative rock, Pierce The Veil have been a figurehead of the genre. In the two years following the release of their first studio album, they saw two different occasions with the Warped Tour, and widespread recognition. Misadventures is their most traditional venture into pop-punk, with a youthful delinquent flair plastered all over it. 

While Misadventures was by no means their most successful album among longtime fans, it still released to universal acclaim. There are songs off other albums from them I like more individually, like The Sky Under The Sea, but every track off Misadventures is stellar. It cements itself, for me, as the only Pierce The Veil album with zero skippable songs.

Dive in further below the cut.

TRACK 1 - DIVE IN

The opening track sets the Misadventures tone perfectly. The squealing sound of an amp and generally higher tuned guitar gives the record an instant feeling of authenticity, and the mix places the main riff quite a bit below everything else for the first verse. The first minute or so let you feel for a brief moment that you might be listening to a normal Pierce The Veil record, but the pace and energy quickly establish a tone we’ve yet to see from the band. The chorus has a levity entirely new to the band’s discography, a far cry from the dark, full tones of Selfish Machines and Collide With The Sky. We got a hint of this sound in Props & Mayhem off the aforementioned album, but nothing as fleshed-out as the light, grinding quality to Misadventures.

The album perfectly reflects its title and cover, with a sense of clarity and youthful fun. Dive In is no different. 8/10.

TRACK 2 - TEXAS IS FOREVER

Again, a tone is set in the opening seconds. Texas Is Forever is the most immediately pop-punk song off their most immediately pop-punk album. The sound masterfully captures a sparking romance, and the lyrics encapsulate a running theme for Pierce The Veil, of a romance failing. Misadventures approaches that theme differently, though, with a happy(ish) ending. Vic Fuentes describes the song as self-indulgent in sound, and lyrically about a relationship that could finally end in mutual respect for separate lives. Don’t get used to that kind of health, though. (lol)

This is the fastest song in their entire discography, and I’m glad it’s a thing. 9/10.

TRACK 3 - THE DIVINE ZERO

Misadventures is largely unique in its scene, for being able to capture a cold and sentimental atmosphere with high tuning and energetic vocals. The opening feels distinctly lonely in the moments before it’s drowned out by a massive wave of sound, much like the theme of the song itself. The Divine Zero covers the conflict between substances and depression; the swimming high can hide things for a time, but when the feelings come back, they come back worse. The song changes tone frequently and erratically, but in a way that feels intentional. 

The outro feels hazy in a way that compliments the theme perfectly, like coming down as the sun rises. 10/10.

TRACK 4 - FLORAL & FADING

The transition from The Divine Zero’s slow, reflective outro into Floral & Fading never gets less jarring, no matter how many times I listen to it. The story behind the song is touching, but doesn’t necessarily belong in a strictly musical review. That being said, the meaning and idea is reflected beautifully in the upbeat and unconcerned tone. Floral & Fading is the finest encapsulation of the indifferent youthful authenticity on the record. If you told me this was written when he was, like, fifteen, I would believe you.

This is one of the biggest songs on the album, but I don’t think it’s for me. 8/10.

TRACK 5 - PHANTOM POWER AND LUDICROUS SPEED

After the crowded sound of Floral & Fading, the isolated intro is very welcome. Don’t get too used to it, though, because Phantom Power and- I’m sorry, there’s no way I’m typing out the entire title every time I refer to it. The track quickly carves out a space for itself, with the chorus having one of the largest sounds on the album. Less crowded and more filled out, no single part of the mix takes away from the other aspects. Everything is occupying equal space, which gives a fantastic listening experience in surround sound. Title checks out.

Once again, Misadventures excels at the outro. 9/10

TRACK 6 - CIRCLES

Do I think writing a fictionalized love story set in the midst of a real-life shooting is weird? Yes. Did the song turn out well enough that I don’t care that much? Yes! The heavy presence of the amps in the sound gives Circles a nice sense of pre-production processing to it, again serving to champion the record’s authenticity. I’m not crazy about the bridge, but the verses and chorus make up for where it falls short. The pick-up on the chorus after the bridge is incredible, and absolutely brimming with energy.

I’m not mad this is the most streamed song on the album, even if it’s not my favourite. 7/10

TRACK 7 - TODAY I SAW THE WHOLE WORLD

While it gets overshadowed often by its acoustic version, Today I Saw The Whole World is a total treat to listen to in its original form. The heavy guitar reminds us who we’re listening to, but in a way we haven’t really heard from them before. The chord progressions are super catchy, and the lyrics are incredible. My favourite part is when the lyrics and the delivery match up in “back and forth just like my heart is on a pendulum.”

Refreshing to hear some really gnarly guitar on this album, and I’m glad it’s here. 9/10.

TRACK 8 - GOLD MEDAL RIBBON.

I don’t hand out 11s, because I want 10 to feel like something really valuable, but this is a place for one. Hypothetically, at least. Opening with a solo that gives me genuine chills, Gold Medal Ribbon is a sound Pierce The Veil hasn’t touched before or after. The composition feels otherworldly and longing, and Vic Fuentes’ desperate vocals amplify the latter effect beautifully. Gold Medal Ribbon feels like an ode to grief, more than a requiem. The lyrics once again feel youthful and inspired, with the title line referring to a relatively obscure ice cream flavour. 

The bridge made me cry a little bit when i was relistening to write this. 10/10.

TRACK 9 - BEDLESS

Bedless is, above all else, pretty. The quieter delivery on the vocals as well as the slower, more powerful guitar puts an emphasis on this one that’s absent from most of the album. I don’t consider that a weakness of the album, so much as a strength of this one track. Everything builds off itself, with every shift in tone or delivery feeling earned and set-up previously. The quiet guitar in the background of the bridge makes the track itself feel almost tired, which is helped by the generally slower pace of the chords after it. The outro is really pretty, too.

It’s lagging behind, but not in a sloppy way; the slower playing puts more weight and power behind every note. 10/10. The home stretch gets a lot of those.

TRACK 10 - SAMBUKA

Making Sambuka the shortest song on the record (by almost a full minute!) is criminal. Every second of this song is a treat to listen to, as a perfect crystallization of the high energy of Misadventures. The title itself, even, is a misspelling of a drink Fuentes tried on tour in the UK, which he left that way because it looked easier to say. It feels careless and alive, but the lyrics have a pang of transparent aching to them.

I’m really mad about the length. 10/10.

TRACK 11 - SONG FOR ISABELLE

If you know me personally, you might know that this song means a lot to me. I’ll do my best to leave this out of the rating, though. A running trend with all of my top three albums is awareness of their own construction; if Song For Isabelle was anywhere else on the album, I would have said it needed to be the closing track. It’s the culmination of every sound and style and theme on Misadventures, an ode to youthful indifference and poor decisions. A masterclass in arguably tasteless romantic subplots. A genuinely touching story, even with that presence. You might recognize my display name from it.

The lyrics paint such a perfect picture of the setting, so much so that I can almost feel the California humidity clinging to my skin under a late night breeze. 10/10.

RETROSPECTIVE

Rounding off my list of top threes is, obviously, another 10/10. Misadventures is incredibly well-received critically, but criminally underrated among fans of the band. It’s a style they’d never really indulged in before, and will likely never indulge in again. It’s sad to think about, but I’m glad it stays fresh and unique among their discography. The outro to Song For Isabelle is a perfect outro to the album and its themes, even being a lyric pulled from a song Vic loved growing up. I figured it would fit as a send-off to my top three, too.