#xiv has been on my mind all the time

[lisafication]

This post is uh, extremely normal I swear

So hello yes I am absolutely On My Bullshit regarding my new favourite game. 

That’s right, it’s the cannibal incest game, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. And I’m here to shove five thousand words of pretentious analysis down your throat because, and I do not exaggerate, I think it is one of, if not the best written game I have ever played. And I have played a lot of games, including Baldur’s Gate 3, Final Fantasy XIV and Undertale, to name a few narrative luminaries to come to mind.

That wordcount is not an exaggeration. My brainworms are extremely powerful and now you can share them with me as I walk you through my insane skyscraper of inference-driven analysis.

Or you can click away. I really wouldn’t blame you, it’s quite a lot.

Content Warnings: …Yes?

(To drop the bit for a moment, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley covers extremely disturbing material and challenges you to examine aspects of living in this world that many have taken for granted all their life, it is not a comfortable game, this will cover similar topics and will often echo the game’s unremitting scepticism on basic principles of society and humanity and you should look after yourself first. My Content Warning is framed as a joke, but it’s also quite real in that the game is designed to make you uncomfortable and there’s no shame in that not being for you.)

This was originally posted on and formatted for Sufficient Velocity, and you can probably more easily read and discuss it with me here.

With that said, let’s dig in. I have had to split this into multiple posts because tumblr will only allow so many images. There will be spoilers for all endings.

She’s excited, are you?

It’s All About Ashley

It really is, isn’t it? I mean, for approximately eighty percent of the total game as currently released and the entirety of Episode 1, you’re in control of Ashley, just as she’s in control of her and Andrew’s relationship for 80% of the game, up until the various ending sequences where it begins to slip. The only other characters who really matter at all in and of themselves are Andrew and her mother — and the former is under her thumb, and she eats the latter. It’s all about Ashley. Even her obsession with Andrew is, ultimately, about Ashley.

But who is Ashley? What is Ashley? Why is Ashley, even? Let’s take a look.

Ashley as presented to us in Episode 1 is very straightforward, so let’s list off the traits we’re given — she is malicious, she is fearless, she lacks empathy, she doesn’t have anything resembling a conscience, she demands Andrew belong to her and her alone, she has him at her beck and call.

In Episode 2, we’re ostensibly shown how she has him at her beck and call— she leverages the threat of reporting Nina’s death over him and had him swear to be with her forever. We’re shown that even as a child she was “just, like that” — but as a child, she hadn’t learnt to live with it yet, to laugh at the farce of it all.

Yeah, exactly like that!

And she does this throughout Episode 1 — The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a remarkably silly game much of the time, finding moments of absurdity and levity against a backdrop blacker than pitch — and most of the time, your internal narration is coming from Ashley and the jokes will not-infrequently come at her own expense.

She will later get negged by her human sacrifice for her poor ritual circle drawing

Her reaction to being told that her soul is as dark and viscous as tar is “You guess you already knew that” — it’s confirmation to her, not new information. Ashley knows who she is. But who taught her this? There’s layers to this, nothing in this game is as simple and straightforward as it appears at first sight, which is why I’ve been obsessing over it for days.

While it’s common in fiction, the truth of the matter is, most ‘bad people’ really do think they’re good people. But Ashley has never once thought of herself as a good person — or perhaps better put as a person worthy of love — as we learn across Episodes 1 & 2, with our flashbacks to Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!!

I really wish I had space in this essay to talk about this, but I’d like to touch on these being traits usually more easily forgiven in young boys than young girls at some point.

If she removes all other options, only then can she expect him to like her.

This is something that is echoed in the modern day — her seeming self-assurance is easily shaken and she reaches out to the world — usually Andrew — to affirm and validate her, soothing her insecurities, using any tool she deems necessary. Even when her life is on the line when Andrew has her by the throat at the climax of Episode 1, the only ‘compelling reason’ she can give Andrew to not kill her is her ability to soothe his nightmares. When he tells her there are sleeping pills for that…

Most people would have a bit more to argue for their existence.

While she, unlike Andrew, acknowledges having had friends before the quarantine… you know she’s got a point that they didn’t even bother to answer her calls, that was clearly not something the state was interfering with given Andrew’s calls with his mother and his girlfriend, and given her general demeanour it’s not hard to imagine that… they weren’t ever very close. When we see her and Nina talk in the infamous ‘box scene’, it’s clear that Nina doesn’t like her very much, despite Andrew’s assessment of Nina as being one of Ashley’s friends.

We see further support for her general lack of companionship in her dream sequence in the Burial route — Leyley and Leyley Alone. No matter what you do, you can’t place the pink plushy at the family table, the flowers won’t bloom if you give the Julia and Nina plushies her own as a companion instead of Andrew’s — and if you’re bold enough to go for the ‘incest route’, in the ‘Love’ room you see that no one ever looks happy to be with her in the childlike depictions of her history, nor is she happy in turn, save for when she’s with Andrew. In a bit of heavy-handed metaphor, the player then overwrites all of these tense, upset, hard moments with Andrew, having him fill in for everyone else in life — and happy with her.

Once Upon A Lousy Life…

THE END

And that’s why she needs him to affirm her, because no one else ever has and no one else ever will. It’s even included in their comic beats — when the siblings are getting along well, they’ll often play a game where Andrew dramatically overpraises Ashley while she demands more; it’s a comedic bit but I mean — it really does matter to her!

For the record, she opened a door. She gets a little heart in a speech bubble after this exchange.

We have a great example of this dynamic, that of insecurity and affirmation, in Episode 1, after Andrew has killed for her, butchered for her, his girlfriend broke up with her, he’s seemingly thrown his entire life away for her… she’s still insecure over her relationship with him, she’s uncertain of her control and she needs him to reaffirm it for her.

This is her victory, surely?

Andrew affirms her once, with his usual dead-eyed look.

But she's still not so sure.

He actively reaches out to affirm her again with cheer.

Look how happy she is!

While it’s most obvious and clear cut here, it’s hardly the only case. Let’s look back to the aftermath of Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!! (I’m not using the other name). Leyley is, after similarly extreme acts — he murdered a girl and hid her body for her — convinced Andy doesn’t like her and she needs this leverage to keep him around, to meet her basic needs for survival. Because that’s what this is — she receives no care of affection elsewhere, so she forces it out of the only source she sees available through the means she sees as necessary.

I really hope we see some of their earlier childhood in Episode 3

What exactly made her like this? Was it just neglect, or something more specific…

She needs this to be the case because otherwise she doesn’t believe he’d stay.

This pattern repeats throughout — Ashley’s insecurities are hit on and she reaches out to Andy to affirm that she is not alone, and she will use any and every tool to exploit her ostensible control over him and force him to be what she needs him to be — and as long as she has that, as long as she is everything to him and it’s not possible for him to leave, she’s happy. As long as she thinks he loves her in her very particular, very peculiar view of love, she’s content, come what may. As long as Andy and Leyley are together, they can take on the world.

Let’s talk about that view of love, because there’s always more layers to unpack here I’m only scratching the surface with this essay — Ashley consistently refers to anyone else Andrew may have befriended or spent time with as a whore, a slut, a bitch — highly gendered insults that bring to mind the idea that he’s cheating in some way. But it’s not even about sex — when Andrew mentions that their parents had friends, she accuses them of cheating on each other in the same way!

There’s a lot to unpack about Ashley’s view of femininity and the role the patriarchy plays in their relationship.

Any kind of emotional engagement, any kind of commitment, any kind of life outside of your significant other is, to Ashley, cheating. Because that’s what she needs from Andrew, a seeming complete and total commitment, secure in her place as the only thing in his life, because she cannot understand anyone picking her if they have a choice.

This insecurity she has in her relationship is what drives her to empower the trinket — he can’t leave her as long as she can protect him with prophetic dreams, after all. She needs every kind of leverage she can get because until she succeeds in being everything to him, in devouring him so completely she has him in her thrall mind, body and soul she can’t be sure of herself — hell, her dream sequence in Burial has you placing Andrew’s signature green plushy, ‘the best thing in the world’ in a cage far away from anything else.

Ultimately, it really is all about Ashley — even her seeming obsession with Andrew ultimately comes back to her own insecurities. If she is everything to ‘the best thing in the world’, some of that ‘best’ must surely reflect on her! 

But that’s enough about the more normal, straightforward and understandable sibling. 

That was not a joke.

Andrew’s Rank 100 Deception

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he did not exist.

Let me explain.

You might have noticed that in the previous section I often use language such as ‘ostensibly’ or ‘seemingly’ to describe Andy and Leyley’s relationship, and there’s a good reason for that. From the beginning of the game through to its end, Andrew is lying to you, the player, without ever falsely representing or misinforming you about events that occurred.

The common, or obvious ‘initial take’ on Andrew as presented in Episode 1 is fairly straightforward. The game primes you to think this way, it frames things and strings reveals just right so as to make it very easy to overlook the incongruities it introduces in Episode 2. He’s a victim. Plain and simple, Ashley is his abuser and he is her victim and would be fine, a normal albeit kinda depressed guy without her.

It really is not a difficult conclusion to draw

You can go all the way through the game, have him try to accept his mother’s olive branch and enter the Decay route as a method for him to finally actualise his desire to get out from Ashley’s thumb and it makes sense, it’s a reasonable way for the story to go, given his character.

You see him this way because the game primes you in Episode 1 to view their relationship like Andrew does — he’s lying. He’s lying to himself, he’s lying to Ashley and he’s so good at it — Deception Rank 100 — he even lies to you. Without misrepresenting a single event or otherwise misleading you directly, the game gets you to buy into his preferred self-perception. Nina? Ashley. Julia? Ashley. The murders they commit in the course of the game? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, it’s not his fault he’s not to blame he’s just a doormat at the beck and call of his demonic sister.

But he wants to be there. From the very outset, the very first puzzle, that’s made clear. Does anyone else remember this exchange, from right at the beginning of the game?

Ashley wants to investigate the music!

Andrew disapproves…

…Or does he?! 

Like. Listen. Okay. You do not frown when saying ‘Nope’ and then smile when saying that you’ll instead tag along if they do it if your heart is at all in the no. That’s not an objection, that’s using Ashley as his excuse. Especially if you immediately throw her the balcony key that she could not possibly have gotten from you by force (more on Andrew’s ability to use force later).

This is the very first time you control both characters together with Andrew following Ashley instead of off on his own, the first adventure, the first puzzle! 

But put a pin in that for now, let’s talk about his initial framing in Episode 2 first. Episode 1 has set us up to, generally speaking, believe the superficial framing of the siblings as portrayed in its promotional art:

The question that we then ask, right at the heart of it is… why is he a doormat? We explore this in his dream sequence in Episode 2, which does make it clear that the boy’s not okay but— it’s real easy, given the priming from Episode 1 to make you think that he’s the one with the originally functional moral compass, to think that that him being fucked up is damage done to him by Nina’s death and being bound to Ashley for his entire life. She corrupted him.

But, well, is that the case?

You're primed to ignore this as manipulation (which it is) but the best manipulation has some truth to it.

Precisely two things spur Andrew to action in the entire game, consistently — they are the fear of consequences and Ashley. And the first incident of that fear, the very first time we’re shown his seeming moral compass as a kid — the first time it’s really hammered home that it’s a fear of consequences rather than any true moral qualms is after Nina’s death. And why does he fear consequences here?

……

The ‘natural’ read that many take away from this sequence, particularly those who have only played Decay, is that Ashley browbeat him into doing this against his will, using emotional blackmail to overwhelm his objections, and then used the event itself to bind him to her forever as her personal doormat.

In a strict sense, this is true. But this doesn’t match up with the details, something the game uses shock to encourage you to overlook. That outburst is before any kind of threat has been made, and absolutely nothing either of them say anything about it being morally bad until Ashley weaponises ‘you’re a bad person’ against Andrew — morality didn’t seem to enter his mind or the equation at all until Ashley brought it up. More than that, his greatest fear and driving motivation even prior to that is, as shown above, being taken away from Ashley.

She, of course, recognises this and uses it against him. But she never needed to, it didn’t change anything about Andrew’s attachment to her, it was there to address her own insecurities.

Just like to touch on how a lot of his affirmations are preceded by him confirming her insecurities.

I adore this phrasing

There’s a second prong to this as well, to the question of ‘who really calls the shots here’ because — Andrew can, at any stage, apply an ‘ultimate veto’ of physical violence. The game is very clear to the player that that is on the table — even when they were children, when Andy swears their blood oath, he briefly considers killing her — and take note of how he ultimately got a ‘winning’ condition out of her by not specifying there wouldn’t be others and she is forced to accept that, there. Even outside of their most serious confrontations, Ashley is portrayed as having to convince, manipulate or otherwise coerce Andrew into going along with her schemes — she really can’t make him do anything, she doesn’t have the supremacy in violence and, to a lesser extent, capability that would allow her to. 

Andrew, you are like ten years old.

The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don’t mean in the sense that I’m saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this. He needs her.

But it’s true that he hates her, too. He has to hate her, because if he doesn’t hate her, if he isn’t forced to have done this, that means… he’s responsible. And nothing, at the start of the story, is as important to Andrew as avoiding the consequences of his own actions, not even Ashley. By the midpoint, he loves her, he hates her, he can’t live without her, he wants to kill her — by the end… well, that depends if you’re on Decay or Burial, but more on that in a bit.

A great scene to study for this dynamic is the climax of Episode 1, when Andrew grabs Ashley by the throat and considers strangling her to death. She’s pushed him too far with hurtful words and assault, and he’s seemingly had enough.

It’s still framed as a question of risk, of consequences happening to him. 

Like, this is not the usual behaviour of someone who’s been pushed past their breaking point.

He tells Ashley that he wants to kill her, because she’s just going to throw another fit and that’s a risk to him. She is… not framed as being able to fight back (she does have a gun here, and more on that in a later essay, maybe). He’s so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence here, which isn’t at all what you’d expect of someone about to commit a crime of passion… but it’s very easy to overlook because of the abuser/victim narrative that the player fits his behaviour into the narrative that the game primes them to accept, brushing incongruities under the carpet.

At the start of Episode 2, we get to control Andrew for the first time, and the first obvious holes in his cover start to show. Some of this is optional — you only learn that he’s been faking having nightmares in order to share a bed with Ashley if you choose to go back into the motel room and check the bed, for example — but not all of it.

----(See reblogs for the second half)

[theminecraftbee]

> check social links

(Which Social Link should I check on...?)

0 FOOL School Rescue Committee Should this really be an official school club? The group of Persona-users that I'm in now, whether I like it or not. At least I'm helping people by doing all this weird magic nonsense...

I MAGICIAN Scar A fellow Persona-user a year below me, although my senior in fighting Shadows. He's dragged me into his scam crystal-selling operation, which is actually weirdly fun.

II PRIESTESS Beef Pretty large and muscular for a priestess, but sure, I'll bite. A volunteer EMT who is trying to decide whether to follow his family's wishes for university.

III EMPRESS Gem A fellow Persona-user in my year. She wants me to help her study for entrance exams, apparently. Not sure why she's asking me, I missed an entire semester? But it's good enough study for me as well.

IV EMPEROR Impulse A fellow Persona-user in my year. He has a single-minded devotion to overworking himself, despite the fact he seems to be trying to prove it's fine for some reason.

V HIEROPHANT Xisuma An older man who hangs out in the local tea shop. Keeps trying to parent me for some reason, although it seems like his relationship with his actual family's a bit less good, so maybe that's why.

VI LOVERS Etho My lab partner. The whole school's obsessed with him for some reason. My only solace is that he seems to be just as disconcerted by that fact as I am.

VII CHARIOT Skizzleman A fellow Persona-user in my year, and my first friend in this town. I'm helping him find a part-time job. He's sort of ridiculously cheerful, but I know he understands me better than most people.

VIII JUSTICE Grian A fellow Persona-user a year below me, although my senior in fighting Shadows. Keeps dragging me into his pranks, although for such a gregarious guy, he's weirdly isolated.

IX HERMIT Joe Hills One of my teachers, and the head of the School Rescue Committee. He's, frankly, the most bizarre guy I know, and I don't know what to make of any of the "wisdom" he tries to impart on us.

X FORTUNE Tango Apparently, he's a bit of a prodigy in the robotics club, but he first came to me to confess he's considering quitting. I have no idea why this is my problem, but Impulse frowned at me about it, so here I am.

XI STRENGTH False A local martial artist who's been decorated with a number of titles. I just wanted her to teach me how to fight better, but apparently, she's starting to doubt her own fighting ability as well.

XII HANGED MAN Jimmy Igor's assistant in the Velvet Room. He's a bit of an idiot, but he's also my idiot. Mostly wants to request I escort him to places in the human world, although he wants specific fusions sometimes too.

XIII DEATH Cleo A "florist" in town who can source us weapons and fence goods from Altered Space. I'm pretty sure she's actually Yakuza, or at least criminal. She and Joe know each other, although strangely, she doesn't seem to remember from where.

XIV TEMPERANCE Iskall and Stress Two priests at the local shrine. I work for them occasionally to help them with odd jobs around town. They share some common past they don't like to talk about.

XV DEVIL Ren The student council president. He's bizarrely mad with power on a good day, which is weird, because he's also bizarrely kickable on a good day. Keeps on trying to rope me into the Student Council.

XVI TOWER Doc An inventor trying to invent a safe new clean energy source. According to rumors, his last try exploded, killing his lab partner, which constantly makes me question why I'm here.

XVII STAR Zedaph Proprietor of the famous local "Mystery Stir Fry Extravaganza". Frankly, his creations terrify me more than Doc's do. I have no idea why this is Impulse's favorite restaurant.

XVIII MOON Mumbo A fellow Persona-user in the year below me. Apparently, he still gets bullied a lot, but he has a scheme to, and I quote, 'learn to be something scary, like a horse.' Good luck with that, mate.

XIX SUN Pearl An artist that I've always admired. Recently, she was in a terrible car accident, and her hands now constantly shake because of it. I still think she can draw organic shapes better than me, though.

XX JUDGEMENT Soul Reappearance Committee Judgement. Hah. I guess you'd call this Judgement Day, sure.

XXI THE WORLD ... It's me.

[clockworkdragonffxiv]

Further thought about the dragons in Final Fantasy XIV because my power has grown beyond control because I was bored at work and it popped in my head:

It's mentioned a lot in Heavensward that dragons don't remember things the way humans do. Their memories are perfect to a degree that memories don't fade so for them every trauma is this gushing fresh agony in their mind, like how Nidhogg is so incredibly pissed off because he remembers in excruciating detail finding Ratatoskr's butchered corpse and the Ishgardians gorging on her flesh.

Well, not so much remembers as he's actively experiencing it. All the time. Forever. Dragons live in the now with an intensity humans can barely comprehend, and I really think they don't process time in the same we do. We experience time linearly. Past, present, future.

Dragons don't. For them existence is experienced all at once forever. I'm not sure they even entirely distinguish between present and past and future, because it all feels the same to them, and I think that it impacts them in strange ways.

Like I don't think dragons really plan the way humans do. Everything is experienced in the Now. So I think for the vast majority of them, human tinkering and building completely baffles them. Oh they see the utility but it's not something they'd come up with on their own.

This extends to things like buildings. They certainly have the raw strength to repair the structures there, but it's not something they'd ever think of. Because repairing the castles means scouting out the proper stone, quarrying it, planning the repairs, etc.

Nidhogg's war against Ishgard is the closest thing to planning we see from them, and that was literally "torture them forever."

Also why Nidhogg was batshit insane. Because for him, he's always and will forever be at that one moment in time: finding his sister's corpse as the Ishgardians she'd been fascinated by and befriended feasted on her flesh like a pack of jackals. He never left that moment. I mean, the narrative flat out tells us that, but really holy shit is that a horrifying thing to think about. Like existentially.

It's probably the reason he could bodyjack Estinien so easily: because until the end of Heavensward, whenever Estinien closed his eyes for a second he could smell the ashes and roasting flesh from Nidhogg burning Estinien's family and entire village alive.

Also, consider that Midgardsormr went through far, far worse. The fact that the guy mostly comes off as grumpy and old should tell you about just how ridiculously tough he is. And why he spends all his time sleeping. Because whenever Midgardsormr was awake he was watching his world burn.

That and probably why he loved Hydalen and his alliance with her and devotion to her. She was as tough as he was, and had been through so much and carried on despite unimaginable woulds and pain. And she still gave him shelter when he had nothing left. That kind of compassion and strength was something he respected.

As a side note, I would be interested to hear from Middy about his thoughts on Hydalen's passing. Then again, he might not mourn her. After all, she'll live forever in his memories, as whenever he closes his eyes he still sees the radiant woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders meeting an exhausted and desperate dragon with the last eggs of his kind and providing them shelter and safety. And he feels the intensity of the sudden hope he felt then with every breath. How could he not love her?

She'll always be with him.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt XIV good omens season 2 (still not traumatic) episode 2

Here we go. It might not have been traumatic, but it has made me utterly in love with a fictional character. Great.

While everyone runs around between episode 1 and 2 to use the loo or fetch emotional support fruit, in preparation for my inevitable gay panic for Crowley, I eat an emotional support banana as the intro sequence plays.

I realise too late that bananas remind me of fellatio.

The episode begins. There are incoherent screams of BILDADDY through the chat. The phrase religious fervour and ecstasy comes to mind. I do not say it.

God and Satan are betting on a poor bloke so his goats and kids are going to be dead, Crowley has a permit to wreak havoc, Aziraphale is scandalised.

Gabriel's angel hair is very Lord Farquaad. Everyone agrees.

Jimbriel is determined to make his new dad proud, and rearranges all the books in alphabetical order of the first letter of the first sentence. Aziraphale struggles to compliment him.

CROWLEY LIVES IN THE BENTLEY. I'M READY TO RIP THROUGH REALITY'S FABRIC TO GIVE THAT IMMORTAL SOME LOVE AND AFFECTION. AND OF COURSE HE STILL KEEPS ALL HIS PLANTS AND HAS THEM IN THE BACK. @neil-gaiman WHY MUST YOU CAREFULLY CRAFT BEAUTY THAT BREAKS ME.

Anyway.

NO NOT ANYWAY I'M STILL RAGING BUT WE HAVE A SUMMARY TO DO AND I'M A FUCKING PROFESSIONAL GODDAMN IT.

Angels are assholes. Jimbriel is very supportive bookseller's son.

The shit-job subtlety attempt last episode was very powerful because TOGETHER THEY ARE STRONGER! *unicorn music*

Aziraphale strokes Crowley's chest. The fandom sobs.

Crowley suggests getting humans wet to make them 'vavoom' and the apple falls from my slack jaw mid bite.

Aziraphale and Crowley are shit at interpreting human media.

Job storyline. If I open my mouth I'll start scream-crying about how Crowley didn't even kill the goats. He had both heaven and hell's permission, orders from God and Satan, and he didn't even kill the goats. Anyway no we're not doing this now thanks.

Crowley introduces Aziraphale to food. Aziraphale goes ham on the ox rib while Crowley has a little spring awakening about his kinks. I eat my other emotional support banana in honour of the blowjob angles.

Crowley didn't even want to reveal that he'd saved the goats to Aziraphale even though Aziraphale was looking at him with betrayal, because it was for the goats and he wanted to-

Sorry. I'm so fucking normal about goats.

David Tennant and his son are having a HECK of a time.

All Crowley wanted to do was ask questions and christ if he isn't angelic who is he put goats' safety over his-

Bildaddy is the best cobbler and obstetrician. Gabriel is an idiot.

Back in actual time, Crowley gives up on Aziraphale mid-flashback and they saunter off to facilitate some lesbian romancing.

OUR BOOKSHOP. OUR CAR. PLENTY OF USE.

Boundaries, Aziraphale, please. Someone reminds us that the Bentley is all Crowley has left. I fill with preternatural RAGE again.

Aziraphale poor baby has a crisis over betraying heaven. Crowley comforts him even though Crowley fell so every defence of heaven is an attack to himself. I'm totally normal and start eating my emotional support kiwi.

Still eating my emotional support kiwi when the episode ends. Crowley says Aziraphale is too pure and angelic looking to be a demon which means that she doesn't see how pure and angelic she was while making the stars, she thinks she was marked in some way, imperfect. It is okay for her to fall, not Aziraphale.

Anyway yes summary all done.

BUT THE GOATS. CROWLEY DEFIED HEAVEN AND HELL FOR GOATS. AND-

END END THE SUMMARY NOW.

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (XIII) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Sixth year comes to a close. Y/N and Harry sport new badges of trauma. Fleur and Bill get married.

Part XII / Part XIV / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: chapter wc: 6.3k. Enjoy. I really miss Regulus *cry*

Time bears no meaning to one unseeing and unfeeling, one who endlessly sinks into a void. You’ve read the papers and the theories: an observer outside of a black hole would think that time has frozen, while those falling into the black hole would appear to be frozen to those watching. 

Perhaps, you were falling through a black hole. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been laying in the medical wing, eyes puffy, pillow damp with tears, but you can only pity whoever it was that sat with you the entire time. The first memory you could recall of waking up in the medical wing seemed so distant, but you knew it had likely only been a few days since then. 

Nothing seemed to register in your mind throughout those days, not that you cared all that much. You would simply peel your eyes open, silently shed tears, ignore whoever was whispering in your ear, ignore Madam Pomfrey’s fussing, go back to sleep, and repeat. 

Every time you awoke, you desperately hoped that the events that kept replaying in your head had been nothing but a terrible, prolonged nightmare. But the emptiness in your pocket weighed on your chest and hollowed out your heart. 

Every time you opened your eyes to see the familiar beige, arched ceilings and bright latticed windows, you wanted to sink through the bed and fall into an abyss that matched the chasm in your chest . 

Regulus’ voice kept ringing in your ears, making your head ache with sharp stabs behind your eyes, ‘I’ll find you again, my love.’ You wanted to laugh. His last words to you were futile promises, yet you still wanted nothing more than to believe them. 

You were positive that you would drive yourself into madness.

You decide to start listening to the voice that would always emit from beside you, half expecting it to be a figment of your imagination. Even so, you hoped that it could provide solace, if not a distraction from your mental spiral.

The more you listened, the more your senses began to clear – and you realized you couldn’t spend forever wallowing in your misery. Surprisingly, it was not just one person that visited you. From what you could discern, it was three different people that would seemingly take turns talking to you. 

“Mother and I are concerned for you, amico mio. Draco hasn’t been back since that night, same with Professor Snape. The term is going to end soon, and Aurors have been hassling Potter for answers. They’re leaving you alone for now because you’ve been unresponsive, but the press and Ministry are waiting for your eyewitness account. If you don’t get better soon…They want to send you to St.Mungo’s for monitoring, but mother volunteered to house you instead. I have to go, but I’ll be back tomorrow. Rest well, Y/N.” 

Blaise.

It seemed that Dumbledore was dead then. There was no other reason why the Ministry would be so eager to question you. Two people died that night, three if you counted whatever part of yourself was missing now – but only Dumbledore would be memorialized. 

You felt your heart race at the thought, but you tried to ground yourself by remembering Blaise’s words. At least you knew that the Contessa was willing to take you in. The thought sent a warm buzz down your navel. You wouldn’t be alone. 

“It was Professor Snape. It all happened so fast. After he shot the spell and Dumbledore … Draco was going to stay with you, but then they shot off the dark mark into the sky. And Snape, he-he … he’s the Half-Blood Prince. He killed him. Dumbledore trusted him, and he killed him. I don’t know where the locket is either. To think of what it took – what it cost us, and I lost the bloody thing.” 

Harry. 

Even in your state, you could feel Harry’s turmoil – his rage. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reflect the same sentiments, things were always more convoluted than they seemed, especially for your lot. You did feel remorseful about the locket though, realizing the damn thing was still looped around your neck (even if it were a sham). 

You don’t know what exactly happened that night in the astronomy tower after you blacked out, just that Snape finished the job and escaped with the rest of the death eaters, but you assumed that Harry was secretly wounded by the professor’s betrayal. 

No matter how vehemently he denies it, you could tell Harry did care for Snape in his own weird, unconventional way. You shared a similar sentiment, feeling a tinge of understanding toward the disillusioned man. That was why you held onto hope that Snape was truly not a traitor, but only time would tell. 

You were taken aback to hear that Draco tried to stay with you, but perhaps your strange encounters with each other and your initiative to try and help him – even while he aimed his wand at you – made him feel indebted. 

“The wrackspurts are beginning to leave, they were hovering around you for a long time. You will be okay, he waits as he always has. You must not give up.” 

Luna.

Luna was a comforting presence. She never bombarded you or urged you to recover quicker, and oftentimes you could feel her gently playing with your hand. You always looked forward to hearing her the most. Her reassurances sparked hope in you, especially since you believed that she was clairvoyant. 

Things did get better, eventually. 

You awoke on the second to last day of term with aching joints and stiff muscles. The world seemed to gleam with a new vibrance under the July sky, and it helped that Blaise nearly tipped out of his seat when you abruptly sat up on the bed. 

“Is that any way to greet me, B? How uncouth.” Your scratchy voice did little to deter the boy who merely threw his arm over your shoulder. 

After a few moments of silent greetings, you pull back and pat the boy gently on the shoulder, wanting room to stretch your arms. 

Blaise moves over to sit at the foot of your bed, hands digging into his robes, “Glad to have you back. You gave me quite the fright, you know?” The boy shoots a pointed look at you, “I thought you were dead when I found you that night.” 

“So it was you?” Your words are more to yourself than anything, but the Italian nods firmly. 

“Mio dio, here we are.” The boy fishes something out of his pocket, and extends his palm towards you, “Thought you would want this.” 

Your heart stutters in your chest as you reach over. 

Regulus’ frame. 

“Thank you.” The lump in your throat makes it difficult to say much more, but the gratitude that bleeds into your words has Blaise tilting his head. Of course, your friend didn’t quite grasp how important the tattered pieces of wood were to you, but you were touched nonetheless. 

Thank Merlin for his scavenging tendencies. 

“Prego. Now, are you feeling well enough to get up? You should start packing soon.” 

“Nevermind, just kill me now.” Blaise, the traitor, laughs at your misery much to your chagrin. 

The last two days at Hogwarts are filled with suppressed grief and reassuring smiles, with many approaching you to make sure you didn’t sustain any permanent damage from the encounter with Bellatrix (you were quite sure Neville even promised retribution). 

You’re decidedly silent about the main events of being manhandled by Greyback, tired from the tirade of questions and also unsure if the prospect would have your friends flying off their handles.

As the Hogwarts Express came to a halt at King’s Cross, you dismissed yourself from the Trio’s compartment and levitated your items with you to locate Blaise. The slytherin was adamant that you say your farewells to him, already dissatisfied with your decision to stay elsewhere for the summer. 

Peering into one of the compartments, you catch Blaise’s eye and wave slowly. The boy stands and slides the door open for you, grinning at your unimpressed frown, “You made it!” 

“Yes, I didn’t want you to brood the entire summer. Merlin knows I barely agreed to have tea with you and the Contessa anyway.” Your indignant response elicits a few snickers from behind Blaise, and the Italian spins around with an expression of mock offense. 

“Traitors, all of you.” 

You peer over Blaise’s shoulder and meet the curious stares of some of the other slytherins in your year, though Draco was notably absent.

Pansy appraises you quickly before grinning, “Well met, L/N. Blaise said you were much better than your other friends.” 

You let out a dry laugh, but nod in greeting. Scanning the opposite bench, an exasperated set of eyes cuts through you. The boy inclines his head, causing you to do the same. You were already familiar with Theodore Nott, having quite literally clashed with him over the top position in your Runes class (which somehow led to you both studying together in silence?). 

“Y/N, any summer plans?” You lean against the doorframe and wave at Daphne, ignoring Blaise’s huff. 

“Hi Daphne, and just a few things here and there. Mainly just looking forward to spending time with my dogs.” Which was not totally a lie, both Remus and Sirius were part time dogs of sorts. 

Blaise crosses his arms and shakes his head, “Yes, a summer with some pets over one with me.” 

Continuing to ignore the boy next to you, you crack your knuckles and smile apologetically, “It’s nice to see you all. But apologies, I must get going, one of my dogs gets a bit restless.” You wave to the group and quickly pat Blaise on the back before quickly ducking out of the train. 

As you walk through the platform, you barely flinch when Harry sidles up to you with his own luggage. 

“Harry, come to Grimmauld Place after it’s all done.” The boy shifts his head to look at you, eyebrow raised to indicate that he would have done so even without the reminder. Rolling your eyes, you adjust the collar of your shirt before quickly pulling out the locket long enough for the boy to see. 

Harry’s mouth sets into a firm line and he nods, “Alright. It shouldn’t take more than a few days.” His firm tone indicated that he expected an explanation from you, but you could see that he was refraining from being too direct, having already expressed guilt for what happened to Regulus. 

Harry and Hermione informed you that they would be taking certain measures to protect their respective families, and you winced at the implications – more so feeling commiseration for Hermione than Harry, knowing that the girl’s parents actually valued her. 

As Sirius and Remus come into view – Sirius in his Grim form, Harry rushes away and lunges into Remus’ awaiting arms. Sirius trots over to you in greeting and you have to restrain yourself from petting him, knowing it would be awkward to face the man after he transforms back. 

Crouching down, you smile at the dog-man and barely duck fast enough to miss his attempt at licking you. It would appear that he was forgoing formalities and was jumping straight into licking and pawing at you and Harry – you admit, that it made his disguise all the more convincing. 

“Okay, enough you old menace!” You bat at him, causing him to huff at you, still rounding around you to nudge at your leg. 

Harry reluctantly leaves as he spots his Uncle Vernon, reaching down to squeeze your wrist in comfort one last time. As soon as you double-check your items and greet Remus, you all are off in a hurry to get to Grimmauld Place, not feeling comfortable being out in the open for a prolonged period of time. 

The journey back is spent in silence as you pointedly ignore Sirius’ looks of concern and Remus’ more subtle glances. 

The first few days back at the gloomy house are interesting to say the least. Both of the adults were almost diffident towards you, clearly unsure of how to breach the subject of their concerns without immediately spiraling into an interrogation. 

You try and wait it out the first few days, and soon Harry is joining you with a pleased smile, regaling you with how Dudley had made amends with him before the Dursleys all packed up and left. Despite Harry’s arrival, Sirius and Remus continued to edge around you both much to Harry’s confusion. 

The awkward atmosphere gives you and Harry time to convene in your room, both sitting around the decoy locket. As you peer down onto your bed at the glimmering piece of jewelry, you feel your lips twist in forbearance. 

Harry scoops it up and examines it in the light before sighing, “Yeah. This isn’t the real thing, I would be able to feel it if it were.” Narrowing his eyes further, he tugs at the locket’s sides and pulls. 

The locket abruptly pops open and you and Harry share a look that pretty much conveyed the ‘shit that actually worked’ thought that flew through both of your heads. 

You’d think there would be more security measures even with a sham. 

Placing it back down onto the bed, you tilt your head at the slip of paper that revealed itself inside. Harry slowly picks it up and unfurls it, frowning at the contents, 

“To the Dark Lord, 

I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. 

R.A.B” 

“Regulus,” Your gasp is followed by a devastating realization that has you shuddering. Harry looks up at you with a worried frown, patting your knee before handing the paper to you. As you gently cup the paper in your hands, you reread the message several times. 

“He died to try and stop him.” Harry’s words are not a question, but rather a declaration of crushing recognition. He looks over to your hunched figure and cups his hand around yours, nodding firmly, “Keep it.” 

Not bothering to retort that you were planning on doing so even if you had to wrangle it from him, you simply nod and carefully fold the note up and place it back inside the locket. As you carefully click the pendant shut and move the necklace back over your head, Harry turns towards the empty space near your door, “Kreacher!” 

A loud pop emits throughout the room and you slowly turn to face the house elf, “Yes, Master Harry called for Kreacher?” 

Harry swallows harshly, “Did Regulus ever talk about a locket that belonged to Voldemort?” 

Kreacher flinches back and alternates between sneering at Harry and frowning at you, “Kreacher doesn’t know anything about a locket.” 

You rise up from the bed and slowly walk towards the cowering house elf, squatting down to appear less intimidating, “Kreacher. Regulus, he…he wanted–wants us to destroy it. Please.” You hoped that Kreacher didn’t register your slip up, not wanting to explain that his favorite master was blown to bits by an insane witch. 

Seeming to weigh his options, Kreacher darts his eyes around the floor before meeting your gaze, “Kreacher will find it.” Not a moment later, the elf pops away and you’re left with your thoughts and achy knees. 

As you stretch back up, Harry shoots you a grateful look before sighing, “We should talk to Sirius about the locket at the very least. Maybe he’ll let us look around and we can figure out what else Regulus knew.” 

You don’t have a chance to answer as Kreacher pops back into the room, hands clasped tightly around the real locket, extending his hand away from his face to keep the artifact as far away from him as possible. 

“Thank you, Kreacher.” The elf merely grunts at Harry’s words and practically shoves the locket into his hands when the boy gets close enough to reach it. 

You nod and smile at the elf, feeling a twinge of guilt when he pops away without another word. It seemed that Kreacher had an idea of what happened to Regulus, and he was definitely not happy with you and Harry by any stretch of the imagination. 

Harry fiddles with the item before huffing, “Hello again, Tom.” 

Rubbing your forehead tiredly, you leave your friend to his musings and opt to find Sirius, deciding to rip the bandaid off sooner than later. 

Surprisingly, the man barely bats an eye at your bizarre request, “Sure, go ahead. I don’t think you’ll find much more than old books though.” 

Nodding with wide eyes, you try to rein in your gobsmacked expression, “Uh–yeah, thanks,” and with one last boost of confidence, you decide to pat the man’s shoulder, “And really, thanks for the concern. Harry and I are fine though, so you guys don’t have to keep walking around eggshells when we’re in the same room.” 

Not giving time for the man to respond, you practically fly up the stairs and towards Regulus’ bedroom. Hit with a sense of deja vu, you only pause to take everything in once you crack open the bedroom door. 

So many memories. 

But he’s not here anymore.

Ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest, you slowly shuffle into the dark room and shut the door behind you. Spinning around on the spot, you take in every detail around you, determined to commit it to memory – for what reason, you didn’t really know. You wander around in circles for a while, slowly working up the courage to actually look around for something useful. 

It felt wrong to go through his possessions without his knowledge or expressed permission. 

Crouching down next to the dusty bed, you trace your finger around the design of the bedding. 

The design scheme of Regulus’ room was far more subdued in comparison to the rest of the house’s gaudy antiques and brassy accents, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he would have decorated a house of his own.

Brushing away the thought, you pause your movements when your finger hits a protrusion under the mattress. Furrowing your eyebrows, you slowly lift up the quilt bedding.

Please be spider-free. If a spider lunges at me, I will actually die. 

Your prayers are, thankfully, taken into account. As you peer at the object, you realize that it was a worn leather journal shoved haphazardly between the two mattresses – how neat. You wrestle the book out with far more effort than it should have taken, and breathlessly sit down on the floor. 

Flipping the object in your hands, you run your finger along the creased cover. 

Just as you lay the book in your lap to flip it open, you’re distracted by the sound of the door creaking open. Harry slowly slinks inside the room and shoots you a quick smile, “Sirius is being weird. Like strange. Something about therapy and teenagers?” You merely raise your eyebrow as Harry moves to sit beside you, the boy’s eyes immediately falling to your lap, “What’s that?” 

“No clue. What about the locket? Figured out how we’re going to destroy it?” 

Harry rolls his eyes before fishing out the necklace and dangling it from his hand like it wasn’t a precious heirloom (even if it were tainted by a sadistic, egomaniac’s soul shard). 

“No clue,” Harry intones, laughing at your narrowed eyes. You roll your eyes before shoving him lightly, deciding to tuck the journal away by your side before getting up to wander around the room again. 

Your search around Regulus’ room continues for the next few days, but ends up fruitless. 

July passed quickly, taking the sunny days away with it. The journal that you found was shrunken and bouncing around in your pocket, remaining untouched. You couldn’t explain it, but it didn’t feel right to read it just yet. 

Was Luna’s clairvoyance rubbing off on you? 

The thought had you smiling softly, causing Remus to share a look with Sirius that you barely caught. 

“You doing okay there, pup?” Sirius asked, reaching over to pat your arm. 

“Never better, old man. Also, pup?” Your question hangs in the air and Remus merely shakes his head before craning back down to read his book. Sirius smiles brightly at you, “Yep.” 

“Never a dull moment around here. Forget my Runes study, maybe I should become a mind healer and have you as my case study.” You tease, much to Harry and Remus’ amusement.

You wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but you had sorely missed the comfort of summers with Sirius. 

Actually, you wanted to rescind that statement. 

“You absolute troll of a man!” Your words echo throughout the house as Sirius’ laughter draws the attention of the other two men. 

Remus shoots Sirius an exasperated look, while Harry spins around in his seat to try and see what was happening. You emerge into the room, heaving from anger, hand clasped tightly around a soggy potions book. 

“I am going to wreak havoc upon your bloodline, Black! Beg now or wrath shall hath no mercy for your foolishness.” Your wild gesticulation and fury has Remus raising an eyebrow towards Sirius who simply shoots his friend an innocent smile. 

The absolute oaf then turns and sticks his tongue out at you. 

“Do it! I dare you! You wouldn’t–” 

You throw the wet tome at his head. 

“Remmy! Look what’s become of my beautiful face!” Sirius whines and bangs his elbows on the table, drawing the attention of one stressed out Mrs.Weasley. The woman shoots a withering look at the man before returning to fuss over a particularly wild table arrangement. 

Remus simply shakes his head and resumes surveying the venue, studiously ignoring the man next to him (who was now sporting a large bump on his head that he refused to heal in order to show everyone the result of your “demonic mood swings”). 

You smile tauntingly at the older man before standing up to walk around. It was insane to you how drastically different you were feeling now in comparison to at the beginning of your summer break. The aching in your heart never fully ceased, but you were back up on your feet and even allowing yourself to indulge in Sirius’ antics. 

The world truly was coming to an end, wasn’t it? 

Guiltily, you found yourself remedying your heart ache by sneaking into Regulus’ bedroom at night. It inexplicably brought you closure to see what was left of the teen’s bedroom. 

August emerged from the corners of the sky with temperamental winds and blue, misty dawns. Bill and Fleur had decided to commence the month with a rather extravagant wedding, having sent out your personal invites weeks before. The venue was at the Burrow, but was simply breathtaking: the ivory tent was propped up by poles that were encircled with plethoras of cream flowers, and the dainty chairs lined with gold were eye-catching without being tawdry. 

Gold. 

You wince as you reach into your jacket, feeling the scraps of Regulus’ gold frame brush against your fingertips. 

It seemed you weren’t the only one plagued with grief and foreboding though. Many were expecting for Voldemort to make his next move any day now, which was one of the many reasons as to why Bill and Fleur decided to rush their union. 

The political climate was tense as well, wracked with uncertainties after the death of Dumbledore. Ex-Auror, now instated Minister of Magic, Scrimegeour was trying his best, but he was rough around the edges and had the charisma of an angry goblin. 

Still, you were one of the many who preferred him over Fudge. 

In light of all this, you made a greater effort to get to know Contessa Zabini, knowing that your channels for information were more restricted than ever, and who better to turn to than an all-powerful, neutral femme fatale? 

Corresponding with Blaise and Luna kept you sane throughout the summer since you refrained from trauma dumping on Harry (á la therapy, knowing the boy was literally the embodiment of “what are you talking about? I’m perfectly fine”).  

“Hey, pup.” You spin around to see Sirius approaching you with his hands in his pockets, mouth curled up amiably. 

Suspiciously raising a brow, you cross your arms, “If you pull something on me right now, Bill is going to be left wondering why there’s an empty chair at our table. Spoiler alert, your chair, not mine.” 

The man chuckles at your playful (kind of) threat, and simply hands you a folded paper, “Thought you’d want it. Still not sorry about your book though.” 

Shaking your head, you gently grasp the slip and raise your eyes in uncertainty when you realize it was a folded photo. Sirius gestures for you to unfold it, eyes gleaming brightly with a shine you could hardly decipher. 

As you bring the photo up towards your eyes, you gape as you realize what you were looking at. 

“Sirius, what?--” Why was he giving you a photo of Regulus? What did he know?

“I don’t know what’s up with you and Prongslet and your fascination with Regulus, but I’m not completely oblivious.” He jabs, smiling widely at your disbelief. 

Debatable, really. 

You sigh and hug the photo to your chest, “I promise, I’ll tell you everything when this all blows over. Thank you though.” 

The man shrugs and gives you a brief side hug, “I’ll take your word for it.” 

As soon as you see his mischievous smile disappear behind the milling Weasley family, you decide to study the photo again. 

Regulus looked a bit younger than he had in his portrait, hair a tad shorter and eyes sparkling with a youthful glow. Clearly, Regulus hadn’t been marked when this photo was taken, but he still looked like a dutiful, proper pureblood heir. 

He looked perfect. 

You were going to rip Bellatrix to shreds.

Yes. You would have the banshee screeching at your feet, begging for the release of death. 

Sorry Neville, she’s mine to kill.

“Heya-” 

“Y/N!” 

You quickly fold up the photo and tuck it into your pocket, shooting your head up to meet the eyes of the twins. Smiling at their antics, you tip an invisible hat to them, “Messrs Twins, how are you today? Excited to see Bill in his suit?”

George offers you his arm as he gestures outside of the tent, “Doing just dandy, Y/N!” 

“Yes, Bill was able to weasel his way out of mother’s claws,” Seeing your confused expression, Fred continues, “She wanted him to wear father’s wedding robes.” 

Snickering at the idea, you allow George to continue dragging you, “How frightful. You both might not be as lucky though. Merlin knows Charlie’s muscles would suffocate in those robes, you two on the other hand…” 

“Ouch!” 

“My poor heart!” 

Your banter continues until the twins manage to parade you through the Burrow’s living room, dropping you off with mock bows, “It’s been our pleasure!” 

As soon as they’re off and running to Merlin knows where, you turn around to meet the unimpressed face of Minister Scrimgeour. Harry, Hermione, and Ron emerge from the kitchen and meet your questioning eyes, looking just as puzzled by his appearance. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Minister?” Harry asks, ever the diplomat. 

You smile wearily, shifting closer to your friends, “Yes, don’t suppose you’re here for the treacle tarts?” 

The scraggy man shakes his firmly, mouth deepening in its frown, “Unfortunately not. I think we both know the answer to your question though, Mr.Potter.”

Clenching your jaw, you make way to sit on the couch, gesturing for the Minister to sit across the coffee table. Your friends quickly follow your movements, fidgeting quietly as the man limps over and settles down with a huff. 

He wastes no time and sets down a folded cloth on the table, leaning on his knees to meet your awaiting gazes. Before any of you have time to question him, he reaches deep into his coat and whips out a folded piece of paper. 

The yellowed parchment floats to the side and unfolds itself as Scrimegeour shoots you all an assured look before reading off of it, “Herein is set forth the last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore-” Holy shit, “-First, Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my deluminator…” 

You zone out, only vaguely aware of how Scrimgeour reaches down to unwrap the cloth. Harry shifts uncomfortably beside you and you’re quick to pick up on his grief. He was still in the process of accepting the headmaster’s death. 

Frankly, you were amazed you were left in the will. 

Hermione receives a children’s book (not cryptic at all). 

Harry receives the snitch he caught in your first year, which was quite unexpected seeing as your friend was pretty much carrying the weight of the Wizarding World on his back. It seemed that he thought the same as he reluctantly reached over to accept it, rolling the golden ball around his palm. 

A snitch, really? Couldn’t he have left a detailed instruction manual on how to slay Voldemort? Not like your lot isn’t elbow-deep in resuscitating Wizarding Britain or anything.  

Your attention is drawn away from Harry’s despondent face when a paper is being shoved towards you. 

What was this, the second time today?

Masking your bemusement, you reach over and take it from the man’s hand, quickly glancing at your friends. 

‘There is a wonderful municipality in Moskenesøya, Norway called Reine. Anders Fiske owes me a meal of which I pass to you. You may find great enlightenment on your troubles with him. He has knowledge of magic which your young companion utilized.’ 

Slowly looking up at the other occupants of the room, you don’t let your surprise show. 

“Well?” Ron asks impatiently, clearly intrigued that Dumbledore left you an actual written message. 

“A meal. He left me a meal ticket.” 

Minister Scrimgeour leaves shortly after, mumbling something about endless paperwork and efforts to suppress the growing dark forces. You were quick to part from your friends, falling into thought about how you were going to heed your former headmaster’s words. 

As you mill around the tent, eyes glued to the purple carpet under your feet, you’re pleasantly surprised when you accidentally bump into a familiar face. 

“Luna!” 

The girl spins around and looks at you dazedly, mouth tugging into a wide grin, “Y/N! The heliopaths burn brightly around you. Have you gotten the clue, then?” 

Gazing fondly at the younger girl, you wrap an arm around her and guide her near a vacant table, “I’m not even surprised. Did you see this coming?” 

“There were whispers that Dumbledore would aid you. Our paths are now converging…” Luna trails off, but you understand the gist of her words. It would appear that she was going to help you in some way, and you were quite pleased with the turn of events. 

Soon, dusk blanketed over the fields and the inky skies loomed over the tent, giving life to the vibrant lights and the guests who were resplendent in their formal attires. 

Sheer curtains fell around the tent in waves of dusty purple, slightly veiling the patrolling Aurors from sight. Sirius had to be put under multiple glamours much to his ire, but he conceded after being told it was either that or partying as a dog the whole night. 

The man was currently nestling a glass of firewhiskey to his chest by your side, occasionally glancing at Luna who was spinning in circles on your other side. Remus had decided to help patrol, and you rolled your eyes at his wallflower tendencies, picking up the unspoken “babysitting Sirius” duties in his stead. 

Bill and Fleur were dancing around at the center of the tent, surrounded by their immediate families and you were entranced by the dozens of pink butterflies that encircled the couple. 

How were they doing that?

Well, they did make for quite the attractive pair, and you were just grateful for the lack of drama throughout the evening. Though, you would be making a grand escape at the first hint of drunken stupors and incoherent babbling. 

Turning to the entrance of the tent, you smile softly as you see Harry make his way inside, slowly approaching an older man who was peering at the clapping guests with poorly concealed anxiety. 

Before you can further goggle at the boy’s movements, a sheen of yellow hues suddenly bombards your eyes and casts a shadow over your figure. Looking up, you’re struck at the sight of a familiar dazed expression. 

“Hello, Xenophilius Lovegood,” The man sticks out his hand for you to take, and you see Luna sway happily towards the man, “A pleasure, Mr.Lovegood. I’ve always enjoyed meeting my friends’ families. I’m Y/N.” 

“My Luna speaks very highly of you, and if you or Mr.Potter ever need anything, feel free to come to us. We live just over the hill, you see.” The man muses pleasantly, wrapping an arm around his daughter as she nods in agreement. 

You speak to the man for a few more minutes before he dismisses himself to find Harry, explaining that he would very much enjoy talking about The Quibbler with the boy. 

At the man’s departure, you begin to try and drag Sirius onto the dance floor, but he simply complains that the music wasn’t really his style and chugs his drink. 

There did seem to be a lack of electric guitar riffs in the air. 

Rings of gasps and shuffles draw your attention away from your two companions, and you look towards the center of the tent to see an illumination of blue floating in place of the once dancing couple. 

A patronus. 

Immediately, Shacklebolt’s resounding voice echoes around the venue, “The Ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead…they are coming…” Scrimgeour was dead? You just saw the bloody man!

“They are coming…” 

The tense silence has you stepping forward and drawing your wand, sharing a look with an alarmed Sirius who was slowly edging in front of you. 

“They are coming…”

As the patronus dissipates, the panic that had been stewing erupts into cacophonous shouts and echoing distortions of apparition. Many guests flee just as the first cluster of black smoke swoops through the tent. 

Death eaters. 

Grabbing Sirius’ wrist, you quickly try to shout over the chaos, “Stay safe! You and Remus better not die!” 

The man nods firmly, but gets pulled away into the moving crowd as people begin to make a break for it just as the first spells start flying around. Twirling your wand into your palm, you turn and grab Luna’s hand, pulling her behind you as you duck through the mayhem.

You see rays of green soar across the tent as flames begin to engulf the flowers and curtains. Blocking a killing curse from flying straight into your face, you quickly shoot out a Confringo and a binding spell back to back, effectively binding your attacker as he tries to duck. 

Spinning around frantically, ignoring the blood rushing through your ears and the thrumming of your heart beat in your fingertips, you see Hermione apparate with Ron and Harry. Sighing in relief at the trio’s escape, you quickly continue to push through the pandemonium. 

As Remus turns his back, you see a death eater try and shoot a killing curse at him causing you to nearly fly forward on the spot. 

“Expulso!” The lamps by the death eater’s head explodes in a spray of glass, causing him to hunch over long enough for Sirius to fire off an array of hexes that had you raising your eyebrows. 

Good to know that even Azkaban couldn’t erode his dueling skills. 

Satisfied with your cathartic release, you apparate away with Luna to the first place that pops into your head. 

As you touch down on damp cobblestone, you quickly spin around to assess Luna for injuries. The girl merely smiles at you reassuringly before gazing around at your surroundings. Luckily, it seemed that this section of Diagon Alley was safe from death eaters for now, but with the fall of the Ministry, it would only be a matter of hours before chaos would erupt. 

You cringe at the thought, knowing that many of the shops were still recovering from the previous year when Ollivander’s was ransacked and when Fortescue was killed by death eaters. 

Slowly creeping out from the dark alley you were both in, you assess the environment quickly. There were a few wizards still walking about, but for the most part, it was quiet and safe. 

Waving for Luna to follow, you both begin to stroll down the stone path, no real destination in mind. 

“Bedda Matri! What are you doing?” You whip around with your wand pointed towards the voice, only lowering it once you see an annoyingly familiar face, “And what are you wearing?”

“Nice to see you too, B. We were at a wedding for your information. I would have taken you as my plus one, but then I remembered how insufferable you are.” 

Your shoulders slacken in relief and you quickly trail over to your smirking friend. 

The boy goes to retaliate, but is interrupted by a dulcet voice, “Mio figlio, aren’t you going to introduce me?” 

Pausing at the honeyed voice, you slowly crane your head to the shadows to meet a pair of amused eyes. 

Blaise seems to flounder a bit before quickly composing himself, “Mama, this is Y/N L/N, my good friend,” he then turns towards your flustered gape and coughs lightly, “Y/N, this is my mother.” 

You collect yourself and straighten up your posture, inclining your head towards the imposing woman, “Contessa Zabini.” 

“How fortunate.” She drawls, slowly approaching your stiff figure, “We finally meet young Y/N, though the night is not kind. Come, let’s have tea together, we have much to discuss.” 

Perhaps you should have tested your luck with the death eaters. 

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txorua @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @summer-noir @mikeikax @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @randomfaeriechild @misacc08 @that-bitch-bri @ily2lia

[shunin-gumis]

Mistery on the Moonlit Passage - Track 01

Seasonal Event Story

Working on the event translation with Jelly and Xiv, and pr by En! I'll be handling the first 3 chapters, hope you enjoy!

Location: Cruise Liner - Sky Deck

Nanaki: *sigh*

Nanaki: …..*sigh*

Nanaki: Hey Andy… The night view of HAMA from the sea sure is a beautiful sight, huh… 

Andy: Affirmative. It is a very beautiful scenery. A night cruise is an excellent method to refresh the heart.

Nanaki: And yet here I am, sighing all on my lonesome. Do you know why?

Andy: Apologies, I do not understand. Why is it so?

Nanaki: …*sigh*

Andy: There are many reasons why a human might sigh. Some common causes are: stress and fatigue, lack of concentration, feeling moved or surprised, lamenting over love–

Yukikaze: Nanaki.

Nanaki: Woah…! Andy, stop!

Andy: …..

Nanaki: G-Good evening, Kamina-san… 

Yukikaze: I see you were looking over the view from the sky deck. I’d been focused on the extravagant interior of the liner, but this is indeed an excellent spot, just as the pamphlet described.

Nanaki: Yes, I think so too.

Yukikaze: You can see both the stars and the city lights clearly from here.

Nanaki: Right.

Yukikaze: …..

Nanaki: …..

Nanaki: Um, did you need something from me…?

Yukikaze: Oh, that’s right. I was so taken in by the sight that it almost slipped my mind. 

Yukikaze: The dinner theater* is about to start soon. I thought I should let you know.

Nanaki: Oh, you’re right. Thank you for coming all the way out here just to inform me.

Yukikaze: If there’s anything else I could help you with–

Nanaki: No… It’s alright. Let’s just head back in.

Yukikaze: …..

~~~

Location: Cruise Liner - Outer passageway

Muneuji: *panting*

Nanaki: Muneuji?

Muneuji: ! Nanamegi, Kamina-san.

Nanaki: You came out for a breather too?

Muneuji: That’s right. However, there’s…

Nanaki: There’s…?

Muneuji: No, it’s nothing. More importantly, the dinner theater is about to start.

Yukikaze: Yes, it’s the highlight of the cruise, so we need to make sure everyone participates. Is there anyone else outside still?

Muneuji: I did spot Yowa-san earlier. Perhaps we should fetch him–

Netaro: Tada! Here I am, no fetching required~

Yukikaze: You surprised me.

Netaro: Hmph, you don’t look like it. Yuki isn’t worth surprising at all~

Muneuji: …Why might you be out here, Yowa-san?

Netaro: Hmmm…. It’s a secret!

Muneuji: …..

Location: Cruise Liner - Inner Passageway

Ryui: The hell’re you all lined up like some ducklings for.

Muneuji: Are you heading back as well, Ryui-san?

Ryui: Yeah.

Netaro: Ryui, what’s that lump of fabric you’ve got there?

Ryui: None of your goddamn business.

Nanaki: …That’s strange.

Ryui: The fuck you mean by that?

Nanaki: Oh, sorry, I wasn’t talking about you, Ryui-san.

Nanaki: I was thinking that it’s too quiet in here. There was music playing until just a while ago… Did they forget to set it on loop?

Yukikaze: Perhaps the show has already started. We should hurry.

Netaro: Lo and behold, we’re already here! Hm~ I’m certain there exists a spell you are to chant at times like this.

Netaro: I remember! It’s open sesame~

Ryui: Oi Yowa, open the door a little quieter, would ya–-

Netaro: Bam!

Location: Cruise Liner - Party Venue

All 5: !!

Nanaki: Wh-What happened here…!?

Kafka and Yachiyo: …..

Muneuji: Everyone here is… 

Akuta and Kinari: …..

Netaro: They’re all flat on the ground.

Yodaka and Toi: …..

Ryui: !!! Toi…!!

Yukikaze: [Name]...!

Nanaki: Chief! Are you ok…!?

Notes:

Dinner theater is a form of entertainment that combines a restaurant meal with a staged play or musical. "Dinner and a show" can also refer to a restaurant meal in combination with live concert music, where patrons listen to a performance during a break in the meal.

[lucidlivi]

Chosen For Pleasure (XIV)

Series Masterlist/Warnings

Tag List: @ladysparkles78 @suckitands33 @little-x-wolf @stoneyggirl2 @creative-writing92 @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @lessons-of-red @jamerlynn @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67 @deans-baby-momma @willow-sages @ritz-hell-hotel @perpetualabsurdity @mhessellund @itzabbyxx @chriszgirl92 @abbybarnesstuff @larrem88 @commonsenseishard @impalaspixie @notsogoofyjelly @hzllxhoundxx @taylortots-world @k-slla @heavenlyackles @spnfamily-j2 @buckybarnes-1917 @foxyjwls007 @spnbaby-67 @readingsins @lauraashley93 @antisocialcorrupt @anixiiee @jackles010378 @alternativeprincess @rosecentury @lelilw1 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @djs8891 @bakugouswh0r3 (thank you to everyone who's been here since the beginning, thank you for always hyping me up and for loving this story! If you want to be added please let me know! It's only going to be a few more parts, so get in while you can!)

I hid a quote in here from one of my favorite tv shows, besides supernatural of course... see if you can catch it! If you can, let's be best friends!

gun violence and mental illness talk at the end of this chapter, please read with caution if it is triggering to you in any way.... if you are struggling with mental health, please reach out! I love you and I'm happy you're here!

"is this really necessary?" I asked Jensen, my eyes befalling the large man in a suit standing next to him.

"yes, until they catch Riley, I'm not risking your safety... besides Mark's a professional, he knows how to be discreet, you won't even know he's around." Jensen said kissing my cheek.

I highly doubt that.

A big burley security man following my every movement.... yeah they'll never see him coming.

I sighed deeply, knowing I'd never be able to talk Jensen out of it.

I stood on my tippy toes connecting his lips with mine. It was a short brief kiss, but it was all I needed to get my heart racing.

"I should go, don't want to be late for my first day as Chief Editor." I said leaning in to Jensen's warm embrace.

"I'll pick you up after work, we have some things to discuss."

"things to discuss, what sort of things?"

"you never answered my question." Jensen smirks knowingly before departing.

It's been a hectic few days, my mind has been on overload. I'm lucky I even remembered to put pants on today. Of course I haven't been able to think about Jensen's proposition of moving in with him yet. I definitely needed to talk to Stella first.

"Mark." I said nodding my head at the tall man.

Mark starts to follow me in to the building quietly.

"who's the big dude?" Stella says as soon as we get inside.

I let out a sigh, so much for being discreet.

I roll my eyes as my coworkers glance at Mark, who's right on my tail.

"Mark.." I answer shrugging my shoulders.

I walked past everyone, going to my new office. I was surprised to see it was completely different than the last time I had been in here.

"I uh redecorated, I thought it would help ya know, so you didn't think about it." Stella said from the doorway.

I looked around the spacious office, every trace of Gray had been erased.

"I love you Stell." I said, a tear in my eye.

I engulfed my best friend in a hug. We stood in each other’s embrace, smiling.

"Sooo do I have to call you Ms. (L/N) now?"

"Oh god please don’t!" I laughed.

I took a deep breath, a comfortable silence fell between us.

"this is crazy right, I mean your life has done a complete three sixty."

I let Stella's words sink in, she was completely right. A few months ago if you'd told me this would be my life, I would've laughed in your face.

"it totally has... sometimes I don't even know how to keep up." I admitted glancing at Mark who stood outside my office like a soldier.

"okay what's up with Mark?" Stella giggled looking at the large man.

"I'm afraid Jensen insists, just until they catch Riley."

"ah yes, the crazy."

"Stella, she's not crazy, she's mentally ill."

I could see Stella noticeably roll her eyes.

"why are you defending her, she literally wants to hurt you (y/n/n)!"

I chewed on my bottom lip nervously as her words sunk in.

I didn't know what Riley's intentions were, but from the damage done to my car, I gathered that we wouldn't be talking over a cup of coffee anytime soon.

"I’m sorry, I know things have been crazy for you, and I just want you to know that I'm here, to listen, to talk, to eat our feelings away with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream... whatever you need." Stella said giving me a warm smile.

"Jensen asked me to move in with him." I blurted out, the thought weighing heavily on my mind.

"oh my gosh, that's great!" Stella squealed.

"it is?" I question, surprised by her reaction.

"it is if that's what you want?" Stella questions.

I look at the pretty brunette sitting in front of me. I didn't know what I did to deserve her friendship some days.

"I really love him Stella." I whispered.

"then you should do it."

"but I'll miss you.."

"please, you can't get rid of me that easily.."

I engulfed my friend in another hug, squeezing her tightly.

"am I interrupting something?"

I let go of Stella to see David, the owner of the magazine standing in the doorway.

"no, I’m sorry sir." I said smiling.

"just wanted to see how you were settling in, and ask if you made any progress on finding me some new voices?"

I smiled widely at Stella.

"yes sir, in fact this is one right here! Stella is the best journalist we have." I said pushing Stella forward.

Stella nervously smiled at him.

"Stella is it, well why don't we go have a talk then?" David said reaching out a hand for her to shake.

I beamed with pride as I watched them leave the office to settle in the conference room.

I could never repay Stella for how much she does for me, but this was a start.

I heard the office phone start to ring, snapping me out of my daze.

"Ms. (L/N)" I answered.

I heard Jensen chuckle on the other end.

"Ms. (L/N), sounds incredibly sexy when you say it." Jensen purred.

"oh please, I thought I was going to come undone, the first day you said my name." I shot back.

"I was just calling to see how your first day as chief editor is going?"

I felt the smile grace my face.

"good actually, it's kind of making me nervous.." I said picking my nails.

"why is it making you nervous?"

"have you ever heard the term regression to the mean?"

"no.." Jensen said sounding confused.

“It means that life can’t ever be all bad or all good. You know, eventually, things have to come back to the middle.”

"I'm not understanding baby."

"I mean that everything's been okay lately, you know, we're okay, the jobs okay, Stella and I are okay.. the middle."

"so you mean things are about to get really good.." Jensen started

"or really bad." I finished cutting him off.

"sweetheart I think this whole Riley thing has you worked up, everything will be fine, okay, nothing is going to happen." Jensen reassured.

He was probably right. I mean this whole Riley situation did have me pretty worked up.

I just felt it was something more though, like there was something looming over us and I just couldn't figure out what it was.

It could've been my conversation with Elle too. I couldn't get her words out of my head... I just want to know who my competition is.

What did that even mean?

Was she going to try to steal Jensen away from me?

I guess it would be steal Jensen back, considering she had him first.

I didn't realize how quiet I was until I heard Jensen's smooth voice through the speaker.

"baby talk to me, what's going through your mind?"

"I think you're right, I'm just a little overwhelmed, I guess Mark wasn't such a bad thing." I said staring at the man who hasn't moved from the entrance of my office.

"see I told you..." Jensen said in a teasing tone.

"I don't have to take him everywhere do I? He's not coming home with me!"

I heard Jensen's hearty laugh boom through the speaker.

"he's definitely NOT going home with you.. he's just for when I can't be with you to protect you."

"my hero.." I swooned.

Jensen laughed again.

"I miss you already." I whispered.

"oh god I sound so needy." I added quickly.

"I miss you too.."

"so I uh talked to Stella about your proposition." I said biting my thumb nail.

"oh yeah? and how did that go?"

"good.." I answered being vague in my answer purposely.

"and do you have an answer for me?"

"yeah..." I whispered not being able to fight the smile on my face.

"well get on with it then, c'mon woman you're killing me here." Jensen whined.

"I mean, I'll have to get some things from the apartment." I said.

"so that's a yes?"

"yes Jensen, I'll move in with you."

****************************************************

"Are you going home? I'm going to grab some things and stay at Jensen's tonight." I told Stella as we gathered our things, the end of our day approaching.

"No, Matt's taking me out to dinner to celebrate my new promotion, thanks for that by the way! I can't believe I'm the new lead journalist!" Stella squealed making me smile.

"I didn't do anything, that was all you."

"Still, I couldn't have gotten it without you putting in a word to David for me."

"It's the least I could do, you do so much for me."

Stella wrapped her arms around me squeezing me tightly for the third time this day.

I've been so caught up in all things Jensen that I realized I really missed my friend, and I was so lucky to have her in my corner.

"woah, that's my woman."

Stella let go, throwing a look to Jensen who now stood in the doorway to my office. I didn’t see Mark anymore, Jensen must have dismissed him.

"nice office..." Jensen admired.

"I redecorated, thank you very much." Stella piped up.

"so when I need any redecorating done, I'll know who to call." Jensen smirked.

Stella glanced at her phone quickly before meeting my eyes again.

"I think Matt's here, I'll see you soon.." Stella said squeezing my hand before going over to Jensen.

"Jensen, take care of her... if you don't I'll chop your dick off." Stella threatened.

"Stella!" I exclaimed mortified.

Jensen just laughed in response.

"You have my word Stella, I mean I would kind of like to keep my dick." Jensen said making me roll my eyes at the pair.

"see you tomorrow." Stella said with a final wave.

Jensen smiled at her shaking his head. He came over to me wrapping me in a hug.

“she’s something..” Jensen laughed.

“you have no idea… are you ready to go home?” I asked cocking my eyebrow.

“as long as I’m with you I am home.” Jensen said.

I rolled my eyes at his line.

“that was incredibly cheesy.” I laughed.

“I thought it was romantic… even a little bit?” Jensen pouted.

“okay just a little bit.”

Jensen smiled, leaning down to pull me in for a kiss. I took a shaky breath as he connected our lips. I felt electricity pulsating through my skin as his lips moved on mine.

“I love you.” He said as he pulled away.

“I love you more.” I whispered.

Jensen gave me another quick peck.

“Impossible.”

Jensen grabbed my bag with one hand, grasping mine with other, as he led us out of the office. Cole stood by the car waiting with an open door.

“Ms. (L/N).” Cole nodded as I slid in.

“You really need to give him a break..” I said laughing at Jensen.

“Cole doesn’t need a break, do ya Cole?”

“no Mr. Ackles.”

“Cole you can be honest I know this one’s a lot to deal with.” I said smacking Jensen’s chest playfully.

“between you and me ma’am.” Cole started giving Jensen a smirk.

I laughed at Jensen’s flustered expression.

Cole pulled up to our apartment, quickly getting out so he could open my door. Jensen shuffled out after me. As soon as we stepped out of the car, his phone started ringing. He pulled it out checking the caller ID.

“It’s Jared.”

“you can take it.. I’m just going to grab some toiletries and a couple outfits, I’ll be right back.” I said kissing his cheek.

Jensen offered me a grateful smile as he answered his phone.

I unlocked the door, before grabbing our mail and going inside. I would have to remember to reroute my mail to the new address. I threw the mail on the counter, wanting to pack my things before I went through it.

I grabbed my overnight bag throwing articles of clothing in it before going to our bathroom. I made sure to grab my toothbrush, hairbrush and the other essentials. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror breathing a deep sigh.

I was really doing this.

I threw the rest of my stuff in my bag, zipping it up and walking back in to the kitchen. I set my bag down grabbing the mail to sift through it.

I turned around, feeling my blood run cold.

It was her.

Riley.

I gasped at the sight of her dropping the mail.

I didn’t know how she got in, the door was still locked.

I could see from the look on her face that she was distressed. I was afraid, but I wouldn’t let her see. I needed to remain calm.

“Riley… uh Jensen’s right outside, we could go see him.” I hesitantly said, holding my hands out so she could see I meant her no harm.

I shuddered as she pulled a gun from her pocket.

“I came to see you.”

I shivered, her voice was haunting, like she was in grave pain. I didn’t take my eyes off the gun she held to her side.

“okay..” I breathed.

“Jensen told me what happened Riley, I know you’re in a lot of pain, and I’m so sorry.. Jensen talks about you still, he cares about you.” I said trying to diffuse the situation.

I flinched as a warning shot rang out. I could feel the breath getting caught in my chest as I feared for my life.

“DON’T LIE!” Riley yelled, bringing the gun up so it was now pointed directly at me.

“just tell me what you have that I don’t.” she cried.

“nothing Riley, I’m nothing.” I pleaded.

“but he kisses you, and sleeps in your bed.” Riley said.

I felt the color drain from my face.

“how do you know that?”

“I saw you, I watched you… I know you love him but I do too.” Riley said eerily calm.

I thought back to the night when Jensen slept over. I thought I had seen someone but chalked it up to my imagination playing tricks on me… but now I know it was her watching us.

“Riley why don’t you put the gun down.” I begged trying to maintain my composure.

“you don’t even know him, what he likes, you don’t give him what he wants, he’s just pretending with you and he’ll get tired of pretending!” Riley growled.

Suddenly Jensen burst in the door followed by Cole.

Riley didn’t move the gun from me.

I could see the fear in Jensen’s eyes as he glanced at me.

“Riley..”

Jensen pointed at himself, asking Riley to turn the gun on him. Riley glanced between me and Jensen before turning the gun his way.

“Jensen don’t.” I cried, letting a few tears slip out.

Jensen held his hand out quieting me.

“I know you don’t want to hurt me Riley.” Jensen said, taking a step closer to her.

Riley breathed a heavy sigh as Jensen reached out wrapping his hand around the barrel of the gun. He yanked it out of her hands, switching the safety on, and putting it in his pocket.

“come here.” Jensen said reaching his arms out.

Riley collapsed in his arms crying. Jensen held her stroking her hair.

“Cole get (y/n) out of here, take her back home.” Jensen said.

Cole took a step towards me, but I took a step back.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I said not wanting to leave Jensen alone.

“(y/n) for once just do what I ask!” Jensen snapped.

I felt the tears roll down my cheeks as I grabbed Cole’s hand allowing him to lead me outside to the car. He opened the door gesturing for me to get in.

I dropped his hand stepping away from the car. I gave Cole a look, and started to walk down the street.

“Ms. (L/N) please.”

“stop it Cole.” I growled walking away.

I didn’t know where I was going, I just had to get away. I felt the tears staining my cheeks as I walked.

It was too much.

It was all too much.

for once just do what I ask..

he’s just pretending with you, and he’ll get tired of pretending..

I covered my ears trying to drown out the loud voices that were screaming at me.

I collapsed on the sidewalk, bringing my knees to my chest and sobbing.

this is what I meant.

regression to the mean..

Author Note:

I’m sorry for breaking your hearts again! Part fifteen will reveal a lot, so make sure you stick around to find out! If you liked this part please indicate so with a heart, comment, reblog, or a follow! It really is motivating! I appreciate you all!

xoxoxo

Liv

[myreia]

fic authors self rec

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the love ❤️

I was tagged by @lilbittymonster to fill this out, thank you so much!

I'm a little late with this, but I'll tag a few folks (I think this is going around as an ask meme, too?). If you've already been asked or tagged, I'd love to see a second selection of your favourites! 💖

@bearlytolerant @tsunael @anneapocalypse @ievaxol @ardberts

@fourteenthz @birues @thewitchofelpis @a-shakespearean-in-paris @thevikingwoman

@impossible-rat-babies @autumnslance @gatheredfates @hylfystt

—01. Divergence of the Heart

Final Fantasy XIV | Heavensward | Wolmeric, Wolcred + background Thancred/Hilda Explicit | 53,996 words | 11 chapters

Aureia Malathar may have made a name for herself in Ishgard, but her deeds come with a hefty personal toll. Despite her victories at the Grand Melee she has never felt more unsure of herself. Her relationship with Thancred—the person she thought knew her the best—is strained, yet she cannot abandon him. Aymeric is falling for her harder with each passing day, yet she cannot bring herself to accept it. All may be fair in love and war, but at least war is predictable. Love, on the other hand…

I wrote this fic last year and it quickly became both extremely personal and also one of my favourite things I've ever written. It's also me poking fun at myself for creating what is probably the worst love triangle based off a couple lines of in-game dialogue from Thancred.

But I think the thing that makes it special to me isn't the love triangle or the emotional entanglements or the drama, it's exploring the different facets of Aureia's asexuality as a sex-positive and greyace person. This is a pretty complex topic and asexuality isn't as straightforward as "no sex ever". I also wanted to approach the erotic scenes with a certain sensibility and pull back the curtain on the romanticism of first times in search of something a little more grounded.

—02. Bound by Faith

Final Fantasy XIV | Shadowbringers | Wolcred Explicit | 28,406 words | 5 chapters

With their enemies defeated, the Crystarium is alive with celebration. Despite the joy around her, Aureia is uncertain about the next steps to take. So is Thancred, for that matter. The puzzle of their lives has sat incomplete for years, but finally this last, precious piece may be able to slide into place.

Okay so. 🥺 This was the first big Aureia/Thancred piece that I finished. I wrote it when I was going through an extremely rough time last year, and I think it was cathartic in a way to have them have all the right things come together so that taking a chance on a relationship finally feels right.

—03. As We Move Forwards

Final Fantasy XIV | Endwalker | Wolcred Mature | 8,140 words | 2 chapters

With tragedy averted and the world in recovery, Thancred and Aureia finally have some time to themselves. It’s nice—good even—to spend time alone, focusing on the things that matter most. But as they depart on a trip across Ilsabard, the question of what comes next lingers in his mind. Where do you go from here? How do you pick up the pieces of something broken and put it back together?

This is a much more recent Aureia/Thancred fic than the previous ones, and I'm enjoying poking at their Endwalker timeline. So much happens. Many things have been said and done, and their marriage has been put through the wringer. It was fun to explore what moving on looks like when they came so close to everything falling apart due to the pressures of outside circumstances. Marriage for them is not a happy ever after, it's just another point on the journey and they both still have a lot of growing to do.

—04. Resistance

Dragon Age: Origins | Tabris x Daveth Explicit, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death | 25,370 words | 7 chapters

Numbed by the events that took her away from Denerim, Rhea Tabris arrives in Ostagar to become a Grey Warden. But as she prepares for initiation and encounters an unexpected person, she discovers she can never truly let her past die.

I think this is my favourite DA fic back from when I used to write a lot of DA stuff. I don't know what it is about the Tabris x Daveth ship, it's such a rarepair but my mind latched onto the possibility and wanted to shake it up and down like a salt shaker and see what fell out. Angst and smut, apparently.

—05. Leave Me At the Shore of the Heart

Dragon Age 2 | Bethany Hawke x Anders Mature | 9,332 words | 4 chapters

On the eve of the Deep Roads expedition, a chance conversation between Anders and Bethany sparks feelings neither of them expected.

This one is special to me because it's the last DA fic I wrote. I'm not entirely sure what possessed me to write this ship, but I was turning a few things over in my head while playing DA2 and I just had a thought about the possibilities of character interactions — tl;dr the conversation I made up in my head was interesting and I needed to follow it haha.

[gatheredfates]

Hello everyone! This is going to be a bit of a big update this weekend, and probably not the only one you'll see over the course of a few days, but it's twelve thirty in the morning and I need to sleep. I have gone insane again. ✨This is nothing new.

I think the first and most important thing I want to iterate in this update is that I have broadened the scope of who can submit and what Communities I will be accepting for the Compendium going forward. Though consent and owner-approval is still at the forefront of my mind, I have to be conscientious of my own work-load and the health of the project (but mostly the former) when it comes to sourcing Communities. To that end, I want to note the following update on the Compendium itself.

UPDATE 7/26/24: After a bit of introspection regarding my own time commitments, limitations around submissions and the Compendium in general, I have changed my stance around server/community-owner requirements in regards to categorisation and consent. While owner/moderation-approval is still at the forefront of my considerations, it is far better for my limited time (and the Compendium’s health) to operate under the assumption that a publicly accessible site/discord/carrd etc. indicates endorsement for it to feature here. To that end, I am broadening the scope of who can submit and what I include. If you know of a community, regardless of if you are the owner or moderator, I encourage you to submit it.

Or, putting it even more succinctly:

You can always submit via the attached google form, via dms or on The SEAFLOOR Discord. I've made some other changes to the Compendium, but I'll note them further down.

I'm hoping this change, while creating a larger workload for me now, will assist in cutting down my overall stressors later down the line.

But, without further adieu, the following communities have been added to Sea's Community Compendium for XIV Creatives. ⛵

COMMUNITY FOCUSED / EVENT SPACES

Aethercon — An in-game convention for Final Fantasy XIV! Created by fans, for fans.

Where the Sun Guides — A new community of writers, artists and roleplayers interested in open-world RP in the region of Shaaloani!

Tuliyollal Community Server — A community focused on facilitating RP in the new world, with an emphasis on the cultures found there!

Xaela Community Discord — Do you like roleplaying? Do you like lizards? Do you like the Azim Steppe? Do you like roleplaying lizards on the Azim Steppe? Then look no further! ᕙ XAELA ᕗ is a Steppe RP community based in Crystal & Dynamis that has been around since Shadowbringers.

Far Eastern Festivals — A Community created around Far Eastern Festivals; events with a focus on Doma, Kugane, Yanxia and more!

Kugane Night Market — A spiritual market where the supernatural and mortal may meet for trade.

Leynode Nine — A community focused around stories and roleplay within Solution Nine.

The Fury's Hallow — Within the High House districts of Ishgard lies a respite for weary adventurers, as well as those who wish to test each other in combat. Regardless of your endeavour, may the Fury bless your every step.

Honey Bee Venues — A nightclub. A lounge. A cafe. A cabaret. Honey Bee is all of those things and more but most of all, we're roleplayers looking to meet people as much as our guests are! We pride ourselves on interaction with a policy of never letting anyone be ignored, regardless of who they are or the character they play.

The Tipping Scales — An immersive role-playing fight club on FFXIV that welcomes all levels of experience. Kick ass, take names, make allies.

Mun-Tuy Beans — A hub for Shroud RP! What began quite a while ago as a Duskwight-focused community has grown to encompass any and all creative souls who love the Shroud — for its juicy lore and picturesque settings. Our members (and others!) regularly meet at Buscarron's Druthers every Tuesday evening, and sporadically during the week!

FFXIV Writers — A place for FFXIV fanfiction writers to share their work.

Steppe Ramen — Located on Mateus in Shirogane, Ward 6, Plot 7, Steppe Ramen serves up ramen dishes that fuse Hingan and Steppe flavors.

The New Morgue — Tavern & Fight Night RP venue.

I have tried to isolate communities and events I can see are active, but I have not personally vetted each and every one. Please let me know if you run into any issues.

MISC

Aetheryte Avoidance — Are you determined to never use an aetheryte a day in your life? Are you asking yourself “No, I like my aetherytes, but how would that work?” @snow-system-wol's guide will show you how!

Halcyonalkimos' Gpose Tutorial — Written by @halcyonalkimos, this guide shows you how you can use a friend or a minion to enhance your vanilla gposing!

Teleport Fee Chart — Compiled by DocTabasco on Reddit, this spreadsheet documents all the teleportation fees in the game up to Dawntrail. (Will contain zone spoilers)

CHANGELOG

To facilitate the change with events / community servers, I have placed Free Company servers into the same category as Friends/Casual. My reasoning behind this is that Free Companies have the capacity to be much smaller / intimate than events and communities, and likely will still require consent from their owners before being displayed on the Compendium. This may change if I find something that works better.

Added clarification around personal / single-character ads; namely, while they won't be shown on the Compendium, they are likely to be posted either on the Tumblr Community or Discord.

More information has been added re. the changes to submission and acceptance. Namely that resource / server / community owners can contact me for amendments or removal. Also clarification around some public communities requiring application processes.

The submission guidelines have been changed to reflect the above updates.

The google form has been updated.

SEAFLOOR has the addition of #community-drop to allow members to submit communities as well.

Removed disclaimers around Tumblr Communities due to updates with the beta. It is now up to community leaders to ensure their join links are correct.

SEAFLOOR

We're a Tumblr Community now! For people unfamiliar with the concept of Communities, I encourage you to check out the tumblr post by staff made about them here. However, copy/pasting what I have written in the Compendium, the Community functions as so:

SEAFLOOR (A FFXIV Community) is a Tumblr community whose duel-purpose focuses on my projects — the Compendium, question drives and screenshot events — whilst also reblogging member created works, resources (including events, commissions and looking for content/roleplay/free company posts), affirmations and other xiv-related content. If you are interested in supporting my projects without the social aspect of a Discord, I highly encourage you to join the Community. Everything hosted on the Discord will be cross-posted there; you will not miss out on anything. You can find the link to join the community here.

I'm hoping the Community will function as a member-curated dash, resource hub and visual diary for my projects and member created works. There are no hard feelings if you want to leave the Discord and only join the Community. Please do what makes you comfortable!

Want to submit? You can either fill out the google form here or send me an ask with the relevant information!

Still To Do:

Update Compendium suitability read more (will be done by the next changelog)

Create a new advertisement / submission drive.

Think about my life (and my choices).

[mikrokosmos]

J.S. Bach - Contrapunctus XIV from The Art of Fugue, BWV 1080

On this day 274 years ago, J.S. Bach passed away and his death was treated as the official end of an entire era. It is cliche to crown him the Best Composer of All Time, but it's hard not to be intimidated in his shadow for how influential he would become in the grand narrative of European music. And maybe it's Fate which brought me back into listening to a lot of Bach lately. At least my ears had been itching to revisit his great organ fugues, and different performances of the Well Tempered Clavier. So I thought I would commemorate his death day anniversary with the "last piece he ever wrote" (citation needed). The Art of Fugue is a collection of fugal exercises based on one theme, each fugue showing different potentials inherent in the theme. Like the WTC, this piece is more of a pedagogical work, originally not scored for any specific instruments so possibly written to be studied more than performed. But there's no reason why even a music theory exercise by Bach shouldn't be played for an audience, or by a musician for their own personal enjoyment.

The beautiful moment here is the last fugue in the set, Contrapunctus 14, which starts as a fugue on a completely different subject than the main theme that ties the rest of the pieces together. Instead, a solemn and contemplative fugue develops from this first theme, and in the middle a new subject emerges with shorter note values and moves forward quickly, bringing back the first subject and then develops as a double fugue. Then, another new subject comes in... so in German notation, they refer to the pitch B as H, and the pitch Bb is called B instead. I don't know why this is, but conveniently it allows Bach to sign his name in notes. But the motif Bb-A-C-B is chromatic and so close together, it doesn't sound like something that would work well for a baroque style fugue (at least, the later B-A-C-H pieces [i'm thinking by Liszt and Reger for example] are much more fitting for Romantic angst and drama). But Bach surprises us with his genius in writing a coherent and harmonically "correct"/"functioning" fugue around this complicated subject. And after the BACH fugue develops, the other two subjects join in and the piece re-introduces itself as a triple fugue.

Or at least, it promises to, but Bach stopped writing at this very moment. It is assumed that had he finished the work, he would have finally brought back the main fugue theme from the other contrupunctus pieces in the set and end with a developed quadruple fugue. And as someone who has tried and constantly failed at writing a decent sounding basic fugue for one subject, the dream of what could have been boggles my mind. Why did Bach stop? The score notes at the very end "While working on this fugue, which introduces the name BACH in the countersubject, the composer died." in CPE Bach's handwriting (one of Bach's many musically gifted sons, nicknamed "the Berlin Bach") but historians believe the manuscript is from a year or two earlier, before his deteriorating vision kept him from finishing. It's also a Romantic notion to imagine that Bach intentionally stopped there, letting the BACH fugue be his personal farewell to life, to composition, to music...a way to wrap up his lifelong work of trying to use difficult and contrapuntally dense music to reflect the glory of God and the intangible heavenly kingdom.

Whether he meant to or not, it's impossible not to feel this profound sense of farewell listening to this work trail off with the last threads hanging loose, as if such anticipated perfection of the quadruple fugue can only be heard in the life beyond our lives on earth. I first heard this piece in high school, and despite being young and naive and stupid in a lot of ways, the final unfinished fugue immediately hit my soul in a way nothing else had at that point, and I listened to it over and over, on piano, on organ, on guitar, as it was written along with different completions by other musicians or musicologists...

and I remember some question on some old web forum asking users "if the world was ending, what's the last song you'd want to hear". Of course I choose this one, and because of the question, any time I listen to Contrapunctus 14, I imagine myself as an astronaut, the last human alive, somehow detached from the ship and floating off into the cold and infinite abyss of the universe, listening to this piece as my oxygen runs out and I lose consciousness looking at the glittering stars, following the remains of the music into oblivion.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | xiv

Apologies and confessions lead to a climactic end for Gold Dust Woman.

Read part thirteen here

Listen while reading: the chain - fleetwood mac (other songs mentioned but not really important to the story)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader, Sam Kiszka x f!reader, Danny Wagner x OC

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, oral (f!receiving), touch of voyeurism, biting, lots of dirty talk, brief mention of spitting, touch of degradation, drinking, swearing, angst, arguing, breakups, crying, insecurity, self doubt, feelings of regret, anger, lots of fluff near the end 🫶🏻, sorry if I miss any!!

The last chapter 😭 these last few months of writing this story has been absolutely spectacular for me. the love and support and engagement I’ve received from you all has been mind blowing, and I’m so thankful for each and every one of you. Without you guys, Gold Dust Woman would be nothing. So thank you from the bottom of my heart, and I really hope that you enjoy the ending as much as I did. As always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻🫶🏻 (very lightly edited so please forgive me 😁)

“Sam,” You sighed, setting your coffee cup down with a shaking hand. “We have to talk.” You said, much less hesitation about your choices, now. It seemed like clarity had become you the minute you had realized Jake was the best person for you. You knew it was true, mostly because you had not felt one shred of anxiety that even came close to what you had been feeling all day. No, you weren’t excited to break Sam’s heart, but you were certainly less apprehensive about it than you were with Jake.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said, stress already showing in his features. You managed a small smile, your stomach sick at the knowledge you would effectively have to go through two breakups in a single day.

“No, I guess it isn’t.” You said, moving to take a seat on the couch. “Sit with me?”

“Yeah, okay.” He whispered, sitting down beside you. You ran your hands over the fabric of your jeans, drawing in a long breath as you tried to settle your thoughts. Eventually, you looked over at him, noticing the sadness in his eyes before you even spoke a word. It killed you knowing that you had to be the bad guy despite months of trying to figure out how to end up the hero. The sad truth was, in the entanglement you had all found yourselves in, nobody could be the hero, yet you all seemed to fall somewhere under the victim category. So much suffering, yet no one to blame or save you from the pain.

“I love you, Sam.” You started, making sure that despite the impending doom, he knew that you still had so much love for him in your heart. Just because you were not going to be his forever did not mean that he wasn’t holding on to a huge part of you. “And I have for a really long time.”

“I know, y/n. I love you, too.” He said, watching expectantly as he prepared for the worst possible outcome of the conversation. You leaned back into the cushions, exhausted from the days events already, comforted none by the knowledge that it would only get worse from there. You reached out, grabbing his hand in your own and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“There’s a saying that’s always stuck out to me,” you explained, tone quiet and as relaxed as possible. “If you don’t receive the love from the ones meant to love you, you’ll spend the rest of your life searching for it. I feel like up until now, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. I’ve been looking for so long that I’m starting to go blind, and I’m missing the entire point of being alive.” You laughed at your own stupidity, finding your search for love quite comical in the moment. You had spent a lifetime trying to find something that you never really believed in, and now that two blatant contradictions to your disbelief happened to be staring you in the face, you had no idea how to address it. “I don’t remember who said it, but it’s always stuck with me. I always thought it was you, Sammy. I really did. I wish it was, because it kills me to do this to you, but it’s not.”

“Oh,” he breathed, nodding his head slowly as he absorbed the information you were giving him. It was a heavy hit, especially after you had stormed into the room with such excitement to see him, but he managed to persevere.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, hoping to catch his eye to show him you were being genuine.

“You don’t have to be, Princess.” He assured you, letting out a long sigh. He could be all but mad at you, for he had made the bed that you were forcing him to lie in. “I knew the risks, and it was worth it. It was always worth it, for you.” He said, looking up to meet your face. “Y/n, I meant every single thing I said to you over the last few months; I care that you’re happy, and if this will make you happy, I can live with it.”

“You have no idea how badly I wish that it could’ve been us. I see Danny and Dylan, and I’m so envious that I never got to have that with you. It’s been so hard since the very beginning… I just feel like I never got to have you the way I wanted to.” You felt the tears brimming in your eyes once again, unsure if you could make it through the conversation without cracking. Everything hurt, and you had no idea how to stop it. Sometimes, you believed as though pain was the only thing you knew how to feel. “I love you so much Sam, and I’m lucky that I got the chance to have you at all, even if it was different than how I pictured it. These last few months were beautiful, and they taught me so much. Even if it didn’t work out the way we hoped does not mean it meant nothing to me.” Your cheeks were soaked with the admissions of your guilt, tears falling at an unprecedented rate and showing no signs of stopping. You couldn’t control it, and at this point, you didn’t really care to. Sorrow was heavy in the air, constantly following you and making home even when you tried so hard to keep it out. There was no shame in displaying your heart to him, because that’s all you knew how to do, anymore.

“Hey, come on.” He pleaded, reaching up to wipe your cheeks clean. “Don’t waste all of those tears on me. God knows I don’t deserve it.” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You do, Sam. You deserve the world, and I wish that I could have given it to you.” You cried, leaning into his touch in hopes that it would take away some of the pain. “Maybe I could have loved you better if I loved myself more. I might have found the courage to say something sooner, and we could be living in the universe where we’re happy and everything is okay.”

“This isn’t your fault, y/n.” He said, fighting back tears of his own. “It’s mine; I should have said something sooner, I should have fought harder, or maybe I never should have put you in a position like this at all. I guess it doesn’t really matter, now. The war is over, and you can stop fighting. You’re tired, and I’ve known it for a while. I’m sorry that I let things go this far. You can blame whoever you want, but please stop blaming yourself.” He moved ever so slightly closer to you, grabbing your face gently between his hands. “If this is going to make you the happiest, I would never be upset at you for it. You deserve every bit of happiness this world has to offer. You always try and give it to everyone else, but it’s your turn, baby. You get to enjoy it, and you don’t have to worry about me.” He wiped your face clean once more, the soft touch warming your soul and soothing the pain. You wished so badly to make everyone happy, to settle the problem with no casualties, but it was just not possible. Someone had to hurt, or all of you would hurt. There was no winning, and in a way, everyone lost at least something along the way.

“In another world, Sammy.” You said, recalling the daydreams you and him had shared in the past. They seemed so close, so real, but you didn’t want to reach for them anymore. Your arms were tired of searching for something that might never be found, and if they were, you knew they would not have been able to compare to the fairytale world that you had created in your mind. “We’d have the house, the dogs, and the rest of our lives.”

“I’ll be dreaming of that world forever,” he said, a sad smile crossing his lips. “Just make sure that he treats you right, because you deserve it, and you make sure that he knows he’s the luckiest man to ever walk this earth. If he doesn’t realize that, then I’ll remind him myself.”

“Thank you for understanding. Thank you for not hating me.” You sniffled, already so burnt out from the whirlwind of emotion the day had thrown at you.

“Hate you?” He scoffed, a smile on his face despite tears welling in his eyes. “There is no possible way that I could ever hate you, y/n. You’re my best friend above anything else, and you’ve given me a lifetime’s worth of happiness in just a few months. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I could never make one as big as that.”

“I could never hate you either, Sammy. I hope that when this all settles, we can still be friends. I don’t want to live a life without you in it.”

“Of course we can. It’s going to suck at first, and it’s going to hurt, but we’ll get through it. We can get through anything.” He promised. “Thank you for being honest, and thank you for giving me the best few months of my entire life.”

“Thank you, Sam. You showed me how beautiful this life can be when you’re looking in the right places, and you helped me more than you can ever imagine.” You said, reaching out to brush the hair from his face. You let your thumb drift over the soft skin on his cheek, feeling better than you had in days. You hated hurting him, but you knew that it was what you had to do; Sam was your best friend, someone you loved to be around and loved making memories with, but in the long term, it just wasn’t right. You could have a good life with him, a great one, even, but you feared that it paled in comparison to the life you could live with Jake. Sam was comfortable, familiar, and fantastic all the same. He would make a phenomenal partner, but you knew he would be suited best for someone else. Jake was what you needed, what you craved for the future, and you knew he was exactly what your heart wanted. The truth lied within the fact that you were aching all over after walking away from him, and now that you knew you were walking away from Sam, you felt lighter than you ever had before. It did not feel good to hurt him, but it felt good to free yourself from the chains that your entanglement was tying you down with, and it felt good to finally be certain in your own decisions.

“You did too, Princess.” He mumbled, closing his eyes to hold back his tears. “Like I said before, if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here. I’d wait for you forever if I had to. If you ever decide to try again, I promise I’ll do it right, next time.” He said, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to your thumb.

“It has nothing to do with rights and wrongs, Sammy. I made just as many mistakes as anyone else. Don’t punish yourself for it, because we were all doing what we thought was best.” He nodded, hearing your words and trying his best to adhere to the request. “Thank you for everything.” You said once again, making sure your gratitude was clearly expressed.

“I assume you have to go deliver the good news, now?” He asked, eyes glistening with an emotion you had never seen from him before. It was killing you to cause him such suffering, but it was for the best, and in years to come you hoped to look back on this rough patch and have all of you laugh at your own stupidity.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You sighed, ready to make amends with Jake but not ready to leave Sam. “One last kiss, for old times sake?” You asked, a shred of hope in your voice. He chuckled at your question, drawing you in to him without another word. The kiss was soft, sweet yet sad all the same. It was a celebration as much as it was a goodbye. When you parted, sadness lingered on both of your faces, but there was also relief in knowing that the struggle was over. As much as he was mourning the fact that he couldn’t have you, he respected your choice, and he knew that with time he could heal the wounds he collected from the battle. The dance that you had been doing was only worsening them, and with proper care, the scars might be so light that you would never guess they existed in the first place. “I love you, Sam. I think I will for the rest of my life. A piece of me will always belong to you.”

“Me too, y/n. I love you, and I hope that even after it’s all said and done, you don’t forget that.”

“Never.” You promised, placing another kiss to his cheek, this time. “I’ll see you soon, Sammy.”

“I hope so,” he said, grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze before rising to his feet. He gave a small wave goodbye before disappearing out of the room. You took in a long breath, but stood despite your body begging you not to. You were terrified to face the world after inflicting so much damage on another, and more so, you were terrified of rejection from Jake. After hurting him so badly, you would understand if he never wanted to speak to you again. You hoped that it was not the case as you broke into the hallway, headed straight for the direction of his dressing room, because you feared that him turning you down would effectively turn you to dust.

You stopped in front of his door, no more hesitation present in your mind as you knocked on the door. You waited for something, but received nothing. There was not even a hint that there was life inside the room. You swore under your breath as you raised your hand to knock again. You listened intently, wondering if you might be able to hear a movement beyond the door, but there wasn’t a thing that signalled that he was inside. You tried not to let the disappointment take over, but it was creeping up on you faster with every second that passed. You worried that you had effectively driven the final nail in the coffin, that you had pushed him just a little too far and now there was no way to recover from the hurt you had caused. You took a step back from the door as you continued deliberating your next move. You looked down the hallway, feeling like you had stumbled upon the key to the grand prize. Josh was walking towards you, mindless and uncaring of his surroundings.

You stepped towards him, cutting him off before he could make it any further and startling him with the suddenness. “Josh,” you greeted, trying to keep your frantic mind away from the public eye.

“Gold Dust Woman,” he greeted, slowly looking over your face. “You don’t look very good.”

“No,” you chuckled, knowing his observation barely scratched the surface “guess I don’t.” You sighed, wondering how to word your question to showcase the importance of your need for an answer. “Is Jake in his room? O-or do you know where he is? I really need to talk to him.” Your nervousness slipped out in your stutter, and he was quick to catch on to it.

“Uh, no, he’s not in his room.” He said, a note of sympathy in his eyes. “He’s in pretty bad shape, y/n. I think it’s best to leave things be for now.” If your heart could shatter any more, it did just that at the sound of his words.

“I know I fucked up, Josh. I just need to talk to him and make it right.” You whispered.

“Listen,” he sighed, placing his hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze “you’re my best friend, but he’s my brother. I know that you didn’t want to hurt him, and I know it was never your intention, but he needs some time to heal. Sometimes it’s better to just let it go and move forward.” His sympathy felt like a punch in the face, but his misunderstanding of your intent was even worse.

“No, Josh, I’m not trying to coddle him because I broke his heart, I’m telling you that I fucked up. I made the biggest mistake of my life, and I need to make it right. I’m not trying to put a bandaid on a bullet hole, I need to tell him that I was wrong.” You rushed your words, looking over his confused expression. You gave a nervous gulp, not wanting to speak the obvious but knowing that it would be the only way he understood your intent. “I just broke up with Sam. I was wrong, Josh, and I need to say it before it’s too late.” You were desperate in your explanation, hoping that now he could see what you were trying to tell him. His eyebrows raised, lips parting slightly in shock at your words. “This whole thing is a mess, and I know that I’m at fault, but I’m trying to do the right thing. I need to do right by him, Josh. I swear I’m not trying to hurt him any more.”

“Oh, wow.” He said, processing the information you had thrown at him.

“I know, and you can hate me for hurting them; god knows I deserve it, but he deserves the truth. He deserves everything good in this world and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try. I know he’s your brother, and I know you’re trying to protect him, and I’m so grateful that he has someone as good as you to look out for him, but please, if he’s in your room just let me see him.”

“I don’t hate you, y/n. I just wish I could solve it for everyone, take the pain away, even. You’re all family, and this is incredibly confusing and frustrating, but I do not hate you.” He clarified, moving forward to pull you into a hug. “You’re sure?”

“More than anything else in the whole world.” You assured him, holding him tightly as if it would ease your hurt. His arms were familiar, but strange in the sense that you knew it was not him you were supposed to be hugging.

“I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.” He said, giving you a reassuring pat on the back.

“Thank you,” you said, but it held little weight in comparison to the relief you felt at his words.

“I think Aaron’s looking for you,” he nodded in the direction of the manager who was quickly approaching the pair of you. “Probably time for soundcheck.”

“Fuck sakes.” You sighed, turning to see for yourself. Josh was right, Aaron was talking to you before he was even in earshot, ordering your presence on stage. As much as you loved your job, you seemed to despise it more than anything in that moment. You looked back at Josh, giving him another silent thanks with your eyes before walking away. You went right to the stage, ignoring any other attempts at initiating conversation from anyone else passing by. Dylan was sitting at the drum set, tapping out a small beat while Riley was soloing on his bass guitar. Not even the sight of your best friends could break you from your misery; tears were still begging to be shed, only worsening when you picked up your own instrument. “Let’s get this over with.” You muttered, uttering a small check into the mic to make sure it was on.

“You seem chipper today.” Dylan noted, begging to catch a glimpse of your face so she could judge what type of poor mood you were in. “Left this morning before I even woke up. Felt like a cheap tinder date.” You let out a small chuckle at her joke, but opted not to respond as you tuned your strings to your liking. Without any warning, you let out a loud strum on the strings, kicking on your distortion pedal as you stepped towards the mic and let out a shout.

As if it were muscle memory, as soon as she heard the sound, Dylan joined in on the drums. Riley followed suit, singing into his own microphone alongside of you. You proceeded with the song, singing the lyrics with all of the emotion you were holding in your heart. Riley allowed you to sing the verses and the chorus, only joining in every so often when he felt the need to accentuate your impact. When the solo came around, you looked only at the floor as your hands did all of the work. As you finished, you leaned forward to sing the last few lines, ending the most passionate rendition of ‘Them Bones’ by Alice in Chains you had ever performed.

“So we’re angry, today.” Dylan said, catching her breath as she rested her arms for a moment.

“We’re everything today, Dylan.” You corrected, switching to your clean setting. “Try Little Wing.”

“You got it.” She said, waiting for you to begin. You played around with the Wah pedal, making sure your tone was right before you started the melodic intro. You couldn’t look out to the seats, knowing that there was only two bodies watching this time around. It killed you to know you had hurt the brothers enough that they felt as though they couldn’t even watch your rehearsal. Your chest was aching, wondering if you had truly fucked everything up as badly as you believed you did.

The cry of your guitar was similar to the one of your soul, echoing through the empty air just to return back and strike you in the face. Your eyes were still blurred with tears of defeat, but you refused to let any more fall. The weakness you had displayed within the last few hours left you shocked that you hadn’t crumbled to the ground in a mess of your former self, yet. You felt like you could, and you definitely wanted to, but you knew you had to keep going for just a little while longer. Your bones ached with exhaustion and your body was begging for a moment of peace, yet you continued on as if nothing was wrong. It was your best defence mechanism, and your only one. If you stopped now, you would never get back up again. As tempting as it was, giving up was not an option until you settled the score with Jake and did everything you could to make things right again.

Dylan drummed along with your playing and Riley was near perfect in his timing, but when you stepped up to sing, your fingers slipped from their position. An off note rang through the air, covered by your voice and quick work at recovery. You made it through the lyrics with no other mishaps, but when the outro came around, you seemed to completely lose your train of thought midway through. You let out a slur of curses, angry at yourself and the instrument for not doing what you wanted it to do. “All good, y/n.” Dylan tried to mediate, knowing your temper all too well. “Can try it again if you want.”

“No, just move on.” You shook your head, starting into another riff. You only chose to play it as a way to prove to yourself you still had the talent, but you couldn’t seem to get the right sound from your guitar that you were hoping for. You tried it a few more times, but couldn’t find the right rhythm for the outcome you wanted. “Fuck!” You exploded, your moment of anger catching you off-guard and echoing through the microphone. You practically ripped the strap from your body, slamming the guitar onto the stand and walking away without another word. Dylan nor Riley felt the need to call you back, knowing that your time on stage had come to an end for the time being. Forcing you to pick the guitar back up would only result in a catastrophic mess, and they were not willing to risk another Gibson guitar being shattered on the floor of a stage.

You walked around the corner, ignoring Aaron’s persistent complaints about your short lived soundcheck, and headed straight to your dressing room. The door slammed behind you with enough force to knock the building down and you collapsed on your couch without any care for your childish display. You put your head in your hands, hoping to hold the tears in for good, but they still seemed to find away around the strength in which your palms were pressed to your face. You felt like the world was ending, the sky crashing down and the earth cracking below you. After so long playing with fire, you had finally succumbed to the fatal burns of your own mistakes. You had hurt the two people you loved most, and you knew nothing about how to fix it, or even if you could mend the damage you had done.

You reached to your purse that was lazily discarded on the floor, rummaging around before finding a few single-shot bottles of whiskey. You took one and swallowed it down, ignoring the sting that settled in your chest, for it was much more pleasant than how you were already feeling. You dumped the other two into the coffee cup that Sam had given you, the liquid just reaching the brim of the cup. You took two long sips from it, uncaring of the unpleasant taste. You made it halfway through the brew before the knocking began. If you had to choose your least favourite sound, that would be at the top of your list. You ignored it the first few times, but it had eventually gotten so loud and persistent that you could no longer tune it out.

You swung the door open, met with the face of your stylist. “Told you we’d be spending lots of time together, today.” She said, opting to ignore your clear distress.

“Kind of in the middle of something.” You said, furrowing your eyebrows at her disregard for the scene.

“Moping around your dressing room?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow as she waited for an answer. When you remained silent, she stepped inside. “Let’s get you cleaned up and brand new, again.” She said, kicking the door shut behind her. She motioned for you to sit in your chair, to which you obeyed. She was a strong personality, one that was hard to adjust to, but you loved her. Much like everyone else on tour, she was family, and unlike everyone else, she wasn’t one to feed into your bullshit. “Get it all out now,” she said, looking to you as she took a seat on the arm of your couch.

“You want me to cry on command?” You questioned, confused about her motive.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I want.” She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. You felt like you were being graded on your misery, and it was a very confusing feeling. So confusing, that you almost seemed to be distracted from your poor mood.

“I… I think I’m okay, now.” You said, certain that the tears had finally run dry.

“You better be sure, because once I start, I can’t have you crying all of my hard work away.” You wanted to argue with her, but somehow the blunt words seemed to snap you out of your previous state of mind. Actually, you found them quite funny. She approached you after pulling a few things from her bag, giving you ample opportunity to double back on your word. She kneeled in front of you, bringing a makeup wipe to your face as she softly removed any physical reminders of your hurt. “I told you not to let them steal your shine, Gold Dust Woman.”

“I think I stole my own shine, Rachel.”

“Mhm,” she shook her head, dabbing away the mascara stains from under your eye. “Whoever stole it needs to give me my girl back, because this is not the Gold Dust Woman I know.”

“I know.” You agreed, solemnly cementing her words in truth.

“We’re gonna make you look beautiful, and then hopefully your mind will follow suit. Sometimes you just need a little break from the world.” She was right, and usually your time spent with her was a break from the real world. She put you in a suit of armour with her work, turning you into a version of yourself you barely believed to be real. You hoped that once she dressed you in your stage clothes, you could find the confidence to make it through the rest of the night. She was like a mother in the way she cared; firm yet comforting, and unwilling to put up with any bullshit. Neither of you seemed to talk much about any troubles, but she always seemed to make you feel better just by being in your company.

Once your face was clean, she took extra time to soothe the puffiness from all of the crying. When she began to apply makeup, she used a gentle touch and utmost concentration. She didn’t break her focus until she was certain that she had perfected the look. She guided you to your clothes, allowing you to dress yourself before she fine tuned any details. You were clad in a gold tank top, elegant and beautiful in its simplicity. It was filled with very tiny, reflective sequins that from afar seemed to blend into one. It was low cut, the neckline lax and swooping down as it settled on itself. It stopped just above your navel, the material loose and comfortable to move in. She picked a pair of leather pants that flared at the bottom but stayed very form fitting above the knee. She pinned your shirt in place before moving on to your hair. She touched up her earlier work but didn’t change much, leaving it hang freely over your shoulders before spraying it with hairspray.

“How do you feel?” She asked, voice quiet as she stepped out of your view of the mirror. You inspected your reflection, wondering if the woman staring back at you was truly you, or just an imposter begging you to believe it. You couldn’t tell for a second that you had been such a mess only a short time before. Your eyes were painted dark and prominent, standing out even further by the accent of gold eyeliner she had trailed down your face. She had made gold tears with the makeup, so subtle that you could miss it, yet shining just perfectly under the light.

“You deserve a raise,” you breathed, leaning closer to inspect yourself even further. She crouched down, now the same height as you and staring into the mirror with you.

“Even when you cry, y/n, it’s made of gold.” She whispered, looking to your face with a small smile on her lips. “Bring back my Gold Dust Woman. Show them that you’re worth more than all of that pain.”

“Thank you, Rachel.” You said, feeling more gratitude for her than you could even comprehend. The relationship between an artist and a stylist is nearly incomprehensible; no, you did not share the darkest of your secrets with her, but she most often saw the most vulnerable and intimate parts of you. She was projecting your inner self outwardly, and to do so, she needed to know you wholly. She was phenomenal at her job, and you were eternally grateful for her.

“Don’t thank me yet.” She said, standing once again. “Put my work to good use, then we’ll have time for gratitude.” You chuckled at her bold persona, nodding in agreement. She straightened the gold chains around your neck before slipping out of the room in silence. You waited until her footsteps faded away until you moved out of your chair, finding a shred of courage to move towards the hallway yourself.

You peered into the open area, timid to find the bodies that occupied it. You leaned against the doorframe, finding Riley and Dylan only a few feet away from the stage. You could hear the soft lull of Jake’s guitar calling to you, begging you to go and watch him work his magic. You took a few steps forward towards your bandmates, sneaking up behind them and shocking them with your presence. “Hey,” you uttered, remorseful about your blatant disregard for the soundcheck earlier. Dylan tuned her head to look at you, softened by your shy expression. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s okay,” she said, knowing that there was nothing you could do about it now. “Just don’t do it tonight.”

“Of course not,” you assured her, sneaking into the small space between her and Riley.

“You okay, now?” He asked, turning his head to look down at you.

“Yeah, much better.” You nodded.

“That’s all that matters.” He said, slipping an arm around your waist. Dylan did the same, a silent show of agreement. You slung you arms around their shoulders, finding it easier to stand with the strength of their support. You knew that no matter what happened, you had plenty of love coming your way. You had a world full of friends who would give anything to make you smile and go to the ends of the earth to take away the sadness. Grateful was not a strong enough word to express how you felt about them, and you wished you could be better at showing it. Your hope was that when the storm settled from loving the Kiszka’s, the world would appear easier to understand and navigate.

You watched the stage from the sideline, noticing immediately that you were on the same side as Jake normally took post on. It was hard to notice anyone or anything else when he was around because his presence took up all of the space in a room. He was beautiful, kind and generous beyond measure, and you were so close to having him forever. You were foolish to let him slip through your fingers once, and you would be damned to ever let it happen again. He was the earth you stood on, the sky above, and the air you breathed. Jake was everything, and you were an idiot for ever thinking otherwise. You felt entranced as you watched his fingers graze the fretboard, pulled in by his talent and suffocated by his beauty. Before you even knew it, the song had came to an end and the boys were walking away from the instruments.

You thought that this was your chance to get Jake by himself for a moment. As he walked towards you, head turned towards the ground, you broke free of the hold your bandmates had on you. You stepped to the side, landing a few feet in front of Jake in hopes to stop him from going any further. He looked up, surprised at your presence. He looked worse than you had ever seen him; his eyes were tired, bloodshot as if he’d spent the afternoon in the same state you had been. At the sight of you, he did not smile, nor did he give you any hint that he was happy to see you. You could not blame him, because if you were in his shoes, you would never want to speak to you again. Still, you persevered in hopes that you could change the situation for the better despite your heart begging you to run and hide.

“Jake,” you whispered, holding his gaze for as long as he would allow it. “Can I talk to you for a second? Please?”

“Y/n,” he sighed, pain rising in his features the longer he was in your company. “I just need some time, okay?”

“No, Jake, I swear-“

“Please,” he cut you off, clearly not knowing what you were trying to tell him. “Just give me a few days, then I promise we can try the friends thing.” He mumbled, averting his gaze away from you. You wanted to scream your love from him so loudly that it shattered the windows and lived inside the walls forever, to show the world how much he meant to you and how apologetic you were for not realizing it sooner, but you seemed frozen in your place. The rejection was not unexpected, but it was debilitating.

“No, I just need-“ you tried again, but his hand landed on your bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance before he stepped past you and continued down the hall. You turned, watching him appear smaller and smaller before he eventually turned into a room and disappeared from sight completely. You thought you were going to be sick, broken underneath the weight of the love you were carrying for him. As much as you wanted to chase after him, you knew it was best to let him come to you in his own time. Still, even if you knew it was for the best did not make the fact easy to choke down.

You looked over to your bandmates, noticing that they had been watching the interaction unfold in hopes of discovering the source of your misery. You let out a long sigh, shrugging your shoulders as if to tell them you didn’t know any more than they did. Dylan nodded her head towards her dressing room, silently asking if you wanted to wait with her until it was time to perform. You have a solemn nod, letting her lead the way. When the three of you were together in her dressing room, door closed and locking out any unwanted listeners, she finally felt comfortable enough to pry some information for you. You explained to the two about the events of the day, biting back tears as you spoke. When you made it to the end of your sad story, the shock on their faces was too much to bear. You closed your eyes, leaning your head on the back of the couch while you tried to forget about the sadness that seemed to make permanent home in your head.

“So, how are you going to tell him?” Dylan asked, now at the hands of the stylist who had recently been in your own company.

“Have to get him to talk to me first, don’t you think?”

“No,” her answer was simple.

“How am I supposed to tell someone I love them without talking to them?” You rolled your eyes, sipping on the drink Riley had grabbed for you. A little liquid courage could get you through anything, or that’s what you always thought. This time, it seemed different. The anxiety stemming from your predicament with Jake seemed too large to calm with any sort of substance. You weren’t worried about superficialities, nor surface level scars that would fade into nothing; this was the love of your life, someone who you wanted to spend forever with, and you were terrified you had lost him for good.

“Do you forget that we’re in a band?” Riley asked, looking over at you with a hint of humour in his eye. He was tipsy, but he was just as enthralled in the conversation as Dylan. “We write about our feelings for a living. Sing him a song, dumbass.” You reached over, smacking his arm gently as you both dissolved into a fit of laughter. The more time you spent with the two, the more the dread seemed to float away. It was still lingering, but it seemed much less daunting with them in your company.

“What song should I sing?” You asked, tracing circles into the fabric of your pants to distract yourself from your fear.

“That one’s on you,” Riley said. “I’m not the one confessing my love for him.”

“Maybe you should, I think you two would be awfully cute together.” Dylan teased, hidden behind Rachel as she had her face painted with stage makeup.

“I’ll let her shoot her shot, first. If she fucks up, though…” Riley trailed off, slowly turning his gaze towards you. “You better watch out.” Another chorus of laughter echoed through the room at his words. After the excitement died down, you drifted away into your thoughts, thinking of the best way to express your feelings for him. After a few moments, an idea surfaced in the mess of self-doubt that seemed impossible to pass up.

“I got it.” You announced, a small smile breaking out on your lips. Riley leaned over, giving you a pat on the back as a way to say he was proud of you.

And thus began the longest wait of your entire life.

The minutes seemed to pass with the length of an hour, and the hours felt like eternities. You drank, trying to settle the nerves in yours stomach, and tapped your foot against the floors to rid yourself of the jitters. Riley left the room to allow Dylan to get changed, and eventually Rachel left to tend to his stage outfit. The small talk had between you and your drummer was nearly painful, both of you knowing that you were completely uninvested in any of the topics at hand. You were nearly vibrating by the time Aaron knocked on the dressing room door, bursting at the seams with anticipation of getting on stage. You joined together at the side of the stage, listening to Aaron’s short instructions to ensure the performance would run smoothly.

When he motioned for you to start, you have a nod and a prayer for enough confidence to get through the night. When you appeared in front of the crowd, you were met with cheers and applause, fuelling your ego only enough for you to pick up your guitar. Dylan sat behind her drums, a blinding smile on her lips as she started a slow beat on the kick drum to set the mood. “How’s everyone doing tonight?” Riley asked, met with a cheer of an excitement from the audience. He looked over to you, laughing at the sound.

“We’re Gold Dust Woman, and we’re so excited to spend the evening with you all. Here’s a song we wrote about being drunk…” you said, looking to Riley for a moment “and in love.” You started a familiar riff, one that had been circling around the internet after your first performance of the song. You knew that once the tour finished up, it would be first on the list of songs to record.

The longer you played, the more confident you felt in your own ability. You found yourself intermittently checking over your shoulder, looking to see if the boys were watching you from their usual spot. At first, there was only Josh and Danny observing from the sidelines. Halfway through the set, Sam made an appearance, looking beautiful in his stage clothes and makeup. Your heart ached at the sight, but when he caught your eye and gave you a reassuring smile, you felt on top of the world. The weight lifted from you ever so slightly just by knowing he did not hold any resentment towards you. There was only one more loose end that needed tying, and you had put your entire faith in the idea that Jake would be willing to watch your performance that night.

When you got down to the last three songs, you were tired and dejected, ready to pack up your things and stitch up your wounds. Jake had not yet made an appearance, and you were beginning to believe he would not leave his room until the second he was needed on stage. You couldn’t blame him, but you so desperately wanted to blame someone, which ultimately landed you back in your initial position. All of the self-doubt and insecurities flooded back in, giving your hands a nervous tremor as you played the solo of your second to last song. Riley sang softly over your playing, distracting the crowd from any potential mishaps your fingers may have caused. You finished with a small outro, trying to zone in on your fretboard to avoid any further mistakes. You finished with a smile, happy that you finished at all.

You looked back over your shoulder, knowing that you would be met with another staggering rejection, yet needing to check anyway. Your heart nearly erupted from your chest and your breath caught in your throat. Your head was swimming with adoration as your eyes landed on the fourth body that finally joined the crowd. He caught your gaze, the same intense emotion taking hold of him in an instant. You struggled to break from the state, wishing to stay lost in his eyes for the rest of time. His lips upturned in the corner, not quite smiling at you, but acknowledging that he was invested in you. You managed to shake your head free from the overwhelming fear, looking to Riley in hopes he could communicate with you wordlessly. You nodded your head in his direction, silently asking if you could switch positions. He caught on immediately, making it seem like the interaction was planned all along as he moved towards you.

You gave him a high five as you passed, trying to make the switch as relaxed as possible. “Alright, we’ve got one more song for you tonight, and it’s a very special one to me.” You said, tuning down your top string. “If you know it, sing it with me. I think I might need some help to get through it.” You encouraged, tuning your bottom string. You casted a look back towards Dylan, a hopeful smile on your lips. She gave you a grin with all of the support she could muster in her features. She gave you a drum roll, hiking anticipation until you began playing.

You began the infamous introduction, the first cluster of notes immediately sending a surge of excitement through the room. Dylan joined in, giving you a steady beat, and Riley bit back a smile as he plucked the top string of his bass.

“Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise

Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies” Riley sang with you, your voices harmonizing alongside the crowd’s excited voices. You took a step back, playing a small part on the guitar before leading him into the chorus. Before you began, you looked over at the group of boys watching your performance. You caught Jake’s eye, holding him captive as you sang directly to him.

“And if you don’t love me now,

You will never love me again

I can still hear you saying

You would never break the chain” you sang, powerful and with clear intent. Jakes head cocked to the side, his eyebrow raising in disbelief as he watched your blatant display of emotion. You sang the chorus once more before breaking your gaze, focusing on your hands to regain your composure. You could feel the rhythm in your heart, the beat of the drum rattling your bones and the bass pounding in your ears. If you could keep your focus on the music, you could finish the song. You continued repeating it in your head until you believed it.

“Listen to the wind blow, down comes the night

Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies

Break the silence, damn the dark, damn the light” you looked to Riley, allowing him to lead you back into the chorus. He sang alone while you echoed his words back to him. He let you sing the next one, switching roles so he could echo you. You looked back at the side stage, the shine of tears in your eye as you saw the look of anger begin to form on Jake’s face. You continued singing, only stopping so he could play the bass line leading up to the solo. On his second run through, you began picking the bottom strings, speeding your pace the longer you played. You took a step back from the mic, losing yourself to the tune. You let your head fall back, eyes closed as your hands guided you through the process of the solo. When it came time to sing again, you were overcome with a sudden burst of energy.

“Chain keep us together!” You shouted into the microphone, looking to Riley as you did so.

“Running in the shadows!” He sang back, watching you to see when you would start again. You repeated your line, more passion than the last time, and he copied your energy. You grinned, walking over to him before singing again. He stepped to the side, allowing you to join him at his microphone. He faced you, playing at you as you did the same to him.

“Chain keep us together!”

“Running in the shadows!” You sang into the same mic, face to face as you played your instruments. The passion was electric, igniting your heart and your soul as it only increased further. You looked past Riley, catching Jake’s gaze one last time before singing the line once more. Dylan let out a loud bang on the drums, stopping the song entirely and filling the air with silence. After a second, everyone erupted into cheers. Dylan stood behind her drum set, raising her arms in the air in triumph. You looked back at her, laughing at her antics.

“Thank you, and goodnight!” Riley yelled into the microphone. You waved out at the crowd, slipping your strap over your shoulder and handing it off to a sound tech waiting for you just off the stage. You were breathless, barely able to thank the group for their endless compliments on your performance. You were stopped before you could move any further, frozen in your tracks by a body that stepped in front of you. You looked up, meeting Jakes angry eyes while fear settled in your stomach. Both of you were too caught up in the flurry of emotion to care about your surroundings, ignoring Aaron’s warning of the boys 45 minute timer until they got on stage.

Jake reached out, placing a hand on your upper arm as he guided you away from the group and towards your dressing room. He pushed the door shut behind him, looking to you as he waited for an explanation. You were at a loss for words, not expecting your performance to catch his attention so efficiently. “What the fuck was that, y/n?” He asked, his stare burning into you and his tone harsh. You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn’t seem to find anything meaningful to say. “You break up with me, tell me you’re in love with my brother, and then you get up on stage and pull a stunt like that? I have no idea what you want from me. If you want Sam, then have him, but you need to give me some time to get over you!”

“I was wrong!” You blurred out, panic stricken and desperate for him to slow down. “I don’t want you to get over me because I was wrong, Jake!” He paused, completely still as his expression shifted. He was frozen, eyes glossed over with disbelief as he processed your words.

“What?” His voice was quiet now, approaching you with utmost caution as if he was afraid to scare you away.

“I love you, Jake, and I was wrong.” You whispered, taking a step closer to him. “I was so wrong, and I know I can’t take back the pain I’ve already caused, but I can’t let you go. I love you. Three months ago, I loved you. In a year from now, I’ll still love you. When I’m eighty years old and watching the world happen around me from my front porch, I will still be thinking about how much I love you. It’s the type of love that’s forever, and I know that I will never feel this way for anyone else in my entire life. I’m so sorry for not seeing it sooner, and for walking away, or for thinking that there might be something happier for me somewhere else, but it’s just not true. You are everything Jake, and I am certain of that. You wouldn’t listen to me earlier, but I needed to tell you. I couldn’t live with myself if I just let you go.”

He watched you, head tilted to the side slightly as he absorbed your confession. His lips were parted slightly, in awe at the profound nature of your words. As nervous as you were, you couldn’t help but admire him. The beauty that he was surrounded with was indescribable; the way his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to process his thoughts, the glimmer in his eye that gave you a shred of hope, all of it. He was breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe that you had the opportunity to love him at all. You wanted to step forward, to be so close to him that you never had to worry about distance again, but you were afraid. You awaited the invitation, your body yearning to be in his arms and addicted to the memory of his touch.

“I know that this has been hard, and we’ve messed up, but I don’t want to make mistakes with anyone else, Jake. I would be happier struggling with you than I would be if I was comfortable with someone else. I don’t know how to love, or what it really means to love someone so completely and selflessly, but I know that I feel it for you, and god do I know that you feel it for me. I’ve never been so loved in my entire life, and I never want to let it go. You love the parts of me that I thought would always be unlovable. You loved me so much even knowing that you could get hurt, and you loved me even while I was hurting you. I’ve never really been in love like this before, but I know that this is what it’s supposed to be like.” You rambled, confessing every thought that crossed your mind. You hoped that it was enough, because you couldn’t fathom the thought of watching him walk away.

“A-are you sure?” He asked, seeming like he wanted to reach out for you but worried that it might be some kind of sick joke.

“I am more sure than I’ve ever been before.” You whispered, gravitating towards him despite your brain telling you to stop.

“100 percent?” He asked again, also leaning closer as he asked.

“A million percent, Jake.” The pain that was on his face seemed to vanish at your assurance. Without another word, he stepped forward, so close to you that it made your head spin. He grabbed your face in his hands, leaning down and kissing you with every ounce of love he could muster. You flung your arms around his torso, pulling him as close as possible. You wished you could live in the moment of euphoria forever, knowing that nothing in your life could ever top the feeling of loving him freely. He broke away from you, his face still dangerously close to your own. He pressed another soft kiss to your lips as a way of thanking you for coming back, but he had no need to thank you for anything.

You slipped your hands under his suit jacket, desperate to be closer but unsure of how to do it. He laughed at you, your cold hands shocking his warm skin. You looked up at him, hearts dancing in your eyes as you lost yourself in his expression of elation. “You meant everything?” He mumbled, looking over your face and soaking in every detail.

“I will scream it from every rooftop in the world if I have to. If that’s what it takes for you to understand how much you mean to me, I’d do it a hundred times over again.” His eyes were speaking words that only your soul could understand, pulling you in further and making you fall even further in love. “When I left earlier, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I had made a huge mistake. I came inside to to talk to Sam, and I couldn’t do it. It’s always been you, even if I was too stupid to see it.” You said, feeling choked up just at the thought of leaving him. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I know I can’t take it back but I hope that I can make it up to you with enough time.” He let his thumb drift over your cheek, shaking his head before you even finished speaking.

“No apologies, angel. It doesn’t matter anymore, what matters is that you’re here with me, now.” You smiled, unable to contain your excitement any longer. His lips were still close enough to your own that you could feel him start to smile, too. Without warning, he moved his hands, crouching down slightly and anchoring them on the back of your thighs. In one swift motion, he picked you up off the floor. You let out a shriek of surprise as you wrapped your legs around him and threw your arms around his neck to steady yourself. He laughed at the sound, making sure to hold you tightly so you knew there was no fear of falling. But, as long as you were with Jake, you were well aware that you would never have to fear falling unless it was in love, because he was always waiting to catch you.

“So this is it? We get to be happy, now?” You asked, looking down at him. It was almost too fantastic to be true, but you knew that it had to be, because no dream could make you feel as good as you did in that moment.

“I think so,” He breathed, grinning up at you with the same happiness in his heart. You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the moment and unable to hold back any emotion trying to push through. A tear rolled down your cheek, which he was quick to spot. “Why are you crying, baby?” He asked, concern thick in his voice. “There’s no need for tears, anymore.”

“I’m just happy,” you said, voice shaking as you spoke. “I’m so happy, Jake. I never thought I could be this happy. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be something more than what I was born with, more than what I was ever given, but all of the work never seemed to make any sense because I still went home feeling the same way. I don’t feel like that, now. For the first time in my life, things feel perfectly right.” And it was true; you had searched forever, always coming out empty handed and wondering if you would ever find the thing you wanted most. Now, it was in front of you, and with a promise of forever. It was almost too much to take, but you were trying your hardest to accept it.

He moved to the couch, sitting down while being cautious of not dropping you. Once you were settled in his lap, he brought a hand to your face and wiped away any fallen tears. “It can be like this forever, y/n.” He whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I promise I will love you as long as you want me to, and long after that. You are my heart and my soul, and everything worthwhile. I want to be everything you need, whenever you need it.”

“You’ve already given me the whole world, Jake.” You said, bringing your hand to his cheek. “You’ve given me more than I ever thought I could have.”

“And I’ll keep giving until I can’t give any more.” He said, drawing you closer to him and resting his head in the crook of your neck. “I’ll give you whatever your heart desires, Gold Dust Woman. All I ever wanted to do was make you happy.”

“Happy doesn’t even come close to what you do for me.” You said, running a hand through his hair. He placed a kiss to the skin on your neck, pulling away only for a second before beginning to move upwards. He kissed a trail to your lips, the final kiss nearly too sweet to break. You held him to you, settling your other hand on his shoulder to support yourself.

It only took a moment for the passion to catch up to you, weeks of being deprived of each other taking its toll and begging you to submit to the temptation. His fingertips ghosting over the exposed skin of your back was enough to drive you to insanity, and the intoxication from his kiss made it impossible to resist him. You gave an involuntary grind of your hips against him, your body’s natural response to the feeling of his touch. He tightened his grip on you as his breath caught in his throat, desperate for anything more than what you were already doing. He pulled you down on him, his erection pressing into your heat and sending a wave of arousal through you. You let out a small whimper into his mouth, sending him feral in an instant. His arms travelled up your body, sneaking under your shirt and begging to pull it off of you.

You parted from him, breathless with stars dancing in your eyes. “Jake, we don’t have time.”

“We have plenty of time,” he assured you, refusing to back down. He could see the worry in your eye, but he was certain in his statement. “Don’t you trust me by now, Gold Dust Woman?” The nickname was like pure ecstasy to you, settling deep in your chest and making home like it had always belonged there.

“Of course I do.” You said, regretful for ever doubting him. You lifted your arms, allowing him to discard your shirt with little care. He brought his mouth to your collarbone, starting softly with kisses as he unhooked your bra with expert precision. He let that fall to the ground, too, not concerned with anything other than getting your clothes off. He brought a hand to your breast, the cold air of the room stinging your skin but the warmth of his touch offsetting the harshness. He let his thumb drift over your nipple, sucking marks into your collarbones as if he was trying to cement the reality of his victory. He moved his mouth downwards, focusing on your other nipple with his tongue.

He was desperate to know you again, like the weeks of separation had made you strangers. If he could, he would have spent the entire night with you in your dressing room, but he knew he had to make quick work in order to finish before he was expected on stage. With the vulgar noises rolling off of your tongue, he knew it would not be difficult to do. You were deprived just the same as he was, just as desperate to be touched and just as eager for an orgasm. He let his teeth sink into your nipple, sending a shiver down your spine and a gasp from your lips. You could feel him smile against you, cockiness returning so quickly that you doubted it ever left. He moved his hands to your hips, prompting you to stand so he could take your pants off, too.

You did as he pleased, allowing him the honour of undoing the button and removing the fabric to reveal what he’d been missing so much. You kicked the pants to the side, leaving yourself almost completely exposed and accessible. He sat on the edge of the couch, practically drooling at the thought of having you wrapped around him again. His eyes raked over your body, his jaw hard set as if he was a predator eyeing its prey. Romantic Jake was long gone, and you were more than okay with that; you loved him, and you were joyous over the knowledge that he was yours and you were his, but you were desperate to be fucked. You would never tell him, knowing that it would only fuel his already strong ego, but he was the only one who could do it right. He settled his hand on your hip, drawing you in and bringing his mouth back to your skin. He admired you only for a moment before turning you around. He let his hand trail over your ass in silent admiration before placing a kiss there, too. Instead of pulling away like you expected, he sunk his teeth into the skin with intent to make you quiver under the touch.

He did just that, the sensation causing you to jump and shy away from the unexpected moment. He let out a chuckle as he pulled away, unapologetic for his actions. He let his finer trail under the band of your underwear, drawing the elastic back slightly and snapping it against your skin. You wanted to complain, to chastise him for the teasing, but you were enjoying it too much to care. You were willing to take anything and everything that he was willing to give. He hooked his fingers through the sides and pulled that fabric away from you too, leaving you fully naked and at his disposal. “Do you know how much I missed seeing you like this?” His voice was low, husky and filled with lust. You thought you might be able to get off on the sound alone. He spun you around again so you were facing him, looking down as you anticipated his next move. “Do you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, feeling his fingers ghosting over your thighs. You shivered under the touch, wondering if he was possessed by his own sexual desire, or if it felt so good solely because of how much you loved him.

“Did you miss me, angel?”

“So badly,” you sighed, watching him with hearts dancing in your eyes. He let out a hum of approval, loving the sound of your shameless desperation. He reached down, placing his hand behind your knee, slow with his touch so he wouldn’t catch you off guard. You allowed him to guide your leg so your foot was resting on the cushion beside his thigh. He leaned forward, dusting kisses over the inside of your thigh, lost in the haze of desire that had quickly filled the room. He brought his hand to your cunt, letting his fingers run through you to get a better understanding of how much you wanted him. His jaw clenched at the pool of arousal, nearly insane from the thought of you being his and his alone. He trailed his finger to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles as he watched your face. He was aching to see the look of pleasure, the one in which your eyebrows knotted together and your lips parted, shamelessly crazy for everything he was doing to you. Sometimes, it kept him alive even more than the most basic of things like food and water.

“Did she miss me, too?” He purred, looking up to you with the far-away smile that let you know he was no longer thinking about conversing with you. Even if you hated to admit it, you had grown to love it so deeply that it made your chest ache when you thought of it for too long.

“Why don’t you find out?” You asked, trying to focus on anything other than his rose tinted cheeks and glossy stare. As much as you wanted to, you knew you would never hold any real power in the bedroom with Jake. Or, perhaps you held all of it, and you would never know the difference.

“Talking back to me, angel?” He asked, adding more pressure with his fingers.

“Never, baby.” You breathed the lie so easily he could almost believe it was the truth. Almost being the keyword, but he missed you too much to punish you, and he didn’t have enough time to do so, anyway.

“Come here,” he muttered, making a move to guide your leg over his shoulder. A whine slipped through your lips before he ever put his mouth on you, deriving pleasure from the idea of his tongue alone. His eyes fluttered up to meet your face before he proceeded any further, amazed by the sound and intrigued by the cause. “You want me that bad, baby?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Your face tinted red with embarrassment, but he was having none of it. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. I want to hear all of those filthy fucking noises.” The end of his sentence was resembling a growl; his excitement was nearly unbearable and he was unable to hide it from you.

“Please, Jake. I need you so fucking bad.” You pleaded, your fingers already knotted in his hair with anticipation for his next move. His eyes fluttered closed, the words settling in his soul and already beginning to heal the wounds he’d collected from the days events. He couldn’t wait any longer, too pent up after being without you for so long. He guided your hips forward to meet his mouth, his tongue immediately landing on the sensitive bud he’d been teasing just moments before. In lieu of any formalities, he slipped two fingers inside of you, making it a mission to bring you to a climax as quick as possible.

A sharp moan sounded through the room, making home in the foundation of the walls to leave a permanent reminder of what had happened behind the closed door. His fingers stayed at a steady pace, pumping into you in time with the movement of his tongue. You couldn’t help but tug at his hair, needing more than he could possibly ever give you. At least, you thought it would be impossible to give, but Jake always managed to find a way. Your eyes were screwed shut as you bit down on your tongue, hoping to stay as silent as possible so nobody would know what was happening inside the room. His tongue was still laced with unholy energy, You were certain of it. There was no human that could possibly hold so much power within such simple movements. He was sent from the devil to turn you evil, too, and you didn’t care. Even if he was corrupt, or if the touch was woven with hidden intent, you would succumb to the temptation every time. Jake as an entity was much too powerful to resist, and you would be okay with it even if it was death you were suffering at his hands.

Your breathing was labored, chest heaving in hopes of catching up on the air he was stealing directly from your lungs. A thin layer of sweat had already begun to form on your forehead, your body so willing to give in to him with so little persuasion. It was always like that with Jake; it seemed as though he never even had to try to turn you into a mess because you were willing to do it as soon as he walked into a room. A raspy cry tore through you, already feeling an orgasm creeping up on you. It had been so long that you were surprised it even took him this long to get you there. You thought maybe he was savouring the moment, because Jake had to the ability to make you come undone in seconds. No matter what it was, you couldn’t find the strength to complain about it. You were so grateful for anything he was willing to give you, even if he chose to deny you an orgasm for the entire night.

That strength was not within him, though, and he was just as desperate for your climax as you were. He sped his tongue, matching the pace with his fingers, hoping that with a little encouragement you would come undone right then and there. You swore under your breath, holding his head for support in fear that your legs would give out from under you. He hummed against you, showing his own pleasure from your enjoyment. You felt the knot tightening in your belly, the burn almost too intense to ignore. You wished to drag it out a little longer, but you couldn’t hold back. It was partially due to your need for a release, but mostly because you could not deny him of his wish. He asked so little of you that you felt guilty even thinking of refusing him anything did want.

“Fuck, Jake.” You let out a shaky breath, feeling your muscles tense and your walls clench around his fingers. He did nothing but continue working at you, keeping a steady pace and continuous movement. Your fingers tightened against the strands of his hair, keeping you grounded as the world started to spin. You couldn’t even manage another word before the orgasm washed over you with a ferocious intensity. He tightened his grip on you, making sure you would not stumble and fall to the ground. You managed his name through the waves of pleasure, singing it like a hymn. Jake was the god you prayed to and the devil you feared. He was the angels watching over you and the sins you committed. He was everything and anything all at once, and although it was confusing, it was euphoric to be in the company of someone so magnificent. You hoped that you would never have to see a lifetime without him.

He slowly pulled away from you, making sure you were steady before removing your leg from his shoulder. With a shaky hand, you loosened your grip on his hair and moved it to his shoulder, supporting yourself with his help. “How was that, angel?” He asked, looking up at you. Your orgasm was glistening on his chin, like a trophy of the vulgarity you two had just engaged in.

“It was so good, baby.” You sighed, already recovered and ready for more. He stood, hands never leaving you as he did so. He wasn’t willing to stop touching you because he had spent the entire day believing he would never get the chance again. He guided you towards the chair placed in front of the vanity mirror. He unbuttoned his pants, only pulling them down to his knees before sitting in the chair. He wasn’t a fan of the time crunch, yet he was grateful for it all the same. It allowed him to give in to the temptation of you without needing any further excuses. He was certain that if he had to wait any longer, he might die from the agony alone.

He spit into his hand, stroking himself for a moment before reaching out for you and guiding you towards him. With your back to him and your legs on either side of his, he lined himself up with your entrance. “Waited so long for this, beautiful. You have no idea how many times I thought about having you like this again.” He murmured, lips just hovering over your ear. You took the intiative and lowered yourself onto him, both of you hissing in pleasure at the feeling after going so long without it.

“Just like this?” You asked, slowly gyrating your hips. He let out a hum of agreement, too lost in the pleasure to verbally express his feelings. “Did you touch yourself while you thought of me, Jacob?” You pressed, tone growing more firm the longer you spoke. His eyes snapped open, shocked that such a question had come from your mouth. “Hmm?” There was a fire in his pupil, like you had ignited a part of him he never knew existed.

“I don’t remember you being such a whore,” he said the word so sweetly, like it was far from insulting. But, being a whore for Jake was nowhere near insulting, and you would proudly admit to it any day of the week.

“Maybe you bring out the worst in me.” You hummed, looking forward and into the mirror, watching his face intently as the pleasure began to take over. “You didn’t answer my question, baby.”

“I did,” he groaned, your slow pace pushing him to the brink of insanity. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, desperate for more but willing to take what you were offering just so he could be close to you. “Every fucking night.” His fingers were burning into your hip, brandishing it with marks that would turn purple within minutes. He slipped his hand to the front of you, letting his middle finger find your clit so he could continue his torment. “Did you think of me when you were touching yourself?” He asked, eyes flickering up to your reflection.

“All of the time,” you sighed, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder. He brought his free hand to your face, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers and forcing you to look back at the mirror.

“Keep watching, angel. Don’t miss all of the fun.” He said, pulling your earlobe between his teeth. You felt a flutter in your stomach, a warning from your body that it was going to explode if he didn’t slow down. “See how pretty you look with my cock inside of you?” Your hips stuttered, thrown off course by the vulgarity of his statement. “Don’t you think so?”

“Y-yes, sir.” You whimpered, weak from the tone of voice he was using. It was filled with power, yet coddling you at the same time. It was intoxicating, and you were a complete fool for him, eager to stay drunk off of it forever.

“Fuck you feel good,” he hissed, turning his head inwards to place a kiss to your neck. “Could fuck you all day.”

“We have the rest of our lives.” You whispered, barely realizing the weight of your words until the movement in his hands stuttered. He smiled against you as if you had given him the most wonderful gift in the world.

“We have the rest of our lives,” he agreed, trailing kisses from your neck to your shoulder. He dropped his hand from your face, bringing it to your breast as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. You arched your back at the feeling, only allowing him to thrust in even deeper as you came back down on him. You let out a whine, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix in a painful type of pleasure. He sped his fingers, knowing that as much as he wished to keep fucking you all night, he would need to leave soon. He felt you clench around him, your legs shaking as you tried to keep your pace steady. “Are you going to cum for me, sweet girl?” He muttered, eyes flickering up to watch the reflection. “Do you want to cum for me?”

“G-god yes,” you stuttered, holding on to his arm for extra support. He took in a long breath in attempt to calm himself, feeling dangerously close to the edge, too.

“Okay, baby. Want to watch you while you cum on my cock.” He encouraged, gaze focused on your face in the mirror. “Be a good girl for me.” He whispered, speeding his fingers ever so slightly. That was all you needed to come undone, head spinning with no real thoughts as your body vibrated against his hold. Your eyes were squeezed shut, his name stuck on your lips like it was the only thing you knew how to say. His jaw was clenched, knowing that he couldn’t hold on any longer, feral from the noises you were making for him. “That’s it,” he hummed, letting out a groan through gritted teeth.

When you started to relax against him, he took his window of opportunity and brought both of his hands to your hips. He pulled you down on him, forceful and loving all at the same time. You let out a yelp, all of your nerves still tingling with the ghost of pleasure. You leaned forward, grabbing on to the edge of the table to hold yourself steady while he fucked into you. It only took him a few moments to catch up, his orgasm long overdue and just as intense as your own. He spilled into you, muttering curses as he fucked his own release back into you. After a moment, he tapered his movements to a halt. You both sat there together for a moment, breathless and scared to move in fear of ruining the moment.

Eventually, he carefully stood, moving his hand to catch any potential mess as he pulled out of you. You sighed, disappointed at the loss of contact once he was fully parted from you. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up.” He said, motioning his head towards the bathroom.

“Yeah, okay.” You breathed, following after him to erase any evidence of the sinful activities you had engaged in. Once you finished, you searched your room for the clothes you had arrived in that morning, finding them in a pile on the floor. You slipped on the sweatpants and the t-shirt, a smile permanently stuck on your lips as you turned to face him.

“What are you smiling about?” He said, teasing you while knowing he had the same one on his own face.

“You,”

“Me, too.” He said, taking a step towards you. “I love you so much, y/n.” He mumbled, taking your face between his hands.

“I love you, Jake.” You said, wrapping your arms around him to pull him into a hug. He did the same, holding you just as tight.

“So, uh, maybe I should have asked sooner…” he started, pulling back so he could look down at your face. You watched him, wondering what could possibly be floating around in his brain. “Would you… would you like to be my girlfriend, maybe?” You laughed at his nervous stature, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks to match his own.

“I would love nothing more, Jacob.” You giggled, elated at the childish glee that overwhelmed his expression. He leaned down, placing a small kiss on your lips. Just as he did so, a knock sounded on your door. “Showtime,” You chucked.

“Showtime,” he agreed, hesitant to let you go, almost as if he was scared you wouldn’t be here once he got off stage.

“Go, I’ll be waiting for you right here when you’re done.” You said, urging him to listen to Aaron’s instruction. He nodded, leaning down and placing another short-lived kiss on your lips.

“Okay,” he sighed, moving away and towards the door. Just as he opened it, he looked back at you for a moment. “Thank you for sharing your secrets with me, Gold Dust Woman. They were far better than I ever imagined.” You laughed at his words, feeling the happy tears begging to make another appearance.

“It was a pleasure sharing them with you, Jake. Now go on, you’re going to do great tonight.” You shooed him away.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” You replied, blowing him a kiss. His eyes sparkled with adoration as he reached out, pretending to catch it. He then proceeded to pretend to shove it in his pocket before turning away.

“That’s my good luck charm.” He said, but he was gone before you could reply.

Slowly, you made your way towards the door and out into the hallway. Dylan was sitting on the side stage, looking back at your room with a hopeful expression. You gave her a nod and a thumbs up, barely able to contain your glee. She grinned, ecstatic at the news and already wanting to know all about it. You approached her, standing by her side as you looked out at the stage. She was caught up in Danny, who was sitting eagerly behind his drums, and you were caught up in Jake, who was already strumming away at his guitar. Even Sam, who was across the stage, had a smile on his face, knowing that he would be alright. The world seemed okay, and that was something you were eternally grateful for. You never pictured things turning out so perfectly, but even the most brutal of storms left a rainbow shining brightly in the sky.

You wrapped an arm around Dylan, your chest finally free from the aching pain that had been ravishing it for weeks. As you watched Jake, you knew that there was no doubt in your decision to love him. There was something eternal about the two of you, like when the oceans meet the rivers, and when the river meets the sand, leading you all across the earth until you find water once more. It was similar to how the day turned into dusk, only for the midnight skies to turn blue once again. An endless cycle that was the only permanent comfort in life. You could love Jake in every lifetime and never grow tired of it, and at the very end, you would still feel like you could love him even more than you already had. You would share every secret and untold story, and hope to make every memory and experience with him as beautiful as humanly possible. He was your lesson, the one you had been dreading for so long, but you were so grateful that you opened your mind for long enough to learn it.

He was your forever, and you were his Gold Dust Woman, just like it was always meant to be.

GOLD DUST WOMAN

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld @gretavansara @jaketlove @laneygvf @freefallthoughts @psychedelicsprinkles @idontwannabeherenow @joshysgirl @sanguinebats @objectsinspvce @klarxtr @sinarainbows @jakesmustache @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @profitofthedune

[moonlightazriel]

Son of the Darkness XIV /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 1,5K

Notes: Unfortunately SOD is getting in its last chapters, this has been so fun and I love this fic so much, I’m so happy with how it turned out so far.

Son of the Darkness masterlist

Main Masterlist

When they appeared back in the House of Wind, he couldn’t contain his shaking body anymore, Y/N had whispered to him that she needed to shower and he went to do the same, the rage in his mind was gone and all that was left was the scary feeling of his empty chest as she was dying. He wanted to wait for her, he would wait his whole life for her to figure the bond on her own, he didn’t want to force her to accept it, but what if they didn’t have this time? What if they were doomed from the beginning and this is all they have left? After his shower, he went to the rooftop, it was dark, the house was silent as everyone went to sleep. He was tired too, but he couldn’t stop his mind, the frantic thoughts that prevented him from resting.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Her voice was soft, and he turned his head, being able to see her in the pure darkness, even the stars didn’t shine as bright as they always did, like they were also afraid of the future.

“How did you find me here?” She looked at him in the eyes, like she could see him perfectly, she closed the distance and sat by his side.

“The people from our court can see better in the dark, one of the perks of being born in the shadows.” She smiled and he nodded, that’s why he was always able to see better than the others.

“That explains a lot then.” He looked at the sky, the clouds covered the moon.

“Azriel, are you okay?” He turned his head to her direction, her brown eyes filled with concern, she was the one that almost died and yet she was worried about him?

“No!” He confessed, feeling his heart bleed again as the image of her body filled his mind. “You almost died, I was scared that I would never see you again.”

“But I’m fine now, Az.” She grabbed his hand, and squeezed it.

“But you weren’t, the things I felt when I saw you, I don’t want to feel that ever again, because feeling that would mean that I lost you.” His eyes burned with the tears, there were so many things that he wanted to say, he wanted to give her his heart, but would she accept it?

She sighed, feeling the tiredness weigh on her, she scooted closer to him, closing the distance between them and kissing him, the kiss was soft, warm, like coming home after being away for so long. He wasn’t expecting it, but he let his hand rest on her waist.

Her blood boiled in her veins and her skin felt tight as she kissed him, her whole body moved on its own as she sat on his lap. The clouds had moved a little, so the moonlight casted a silver glow upon his features as she broke the kiss and looked at him.

“I’m in love with you. And I’m afraid we don’t have much time left so I thought that maybe you should know that.” She whispered, her lips were red from the kiss and she was blushing.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked her in disbelief, his hand squeezed the skin of her waist and she squirmed in his lap, making his cock stir with life.

“Ever since that first time in Kincardine, if I could, I would’ve burned that female down to ashes.” He kissed her again, his hands moving her hips until she was grinding against him. He could smell her arousal and she could feel his, the bump in between her legs brushing where she needed, her core throbbed with desire.

“I know some redheaded brothers you can burn down.” He joked after they parted the kiss to breathe. “Wanna go back to my room?” He asked and she nodded eagerly. Not trusting her voice to speak properly.

Shadows covered them as he winnowed, appearing right in the middle of the room, he was holding her against him, kissing her neck as he dropped her on the bed. He hovered over her, his wings flaring behind his back as her hand palmed him, his breath was ragged as she kept moving her hand up and down.

He looked at her body, his eyes wide as he saw the tiny black nightgown she was wearing, the silk mixed with lace made all the coherent thoughts vanish from his mind, her soft and hot skin smelled like vanilla. He removed one strap, kissing her shoulder all the way to her hand until he removed it, repeating the process with the other strap. Her body shivered at the feeling of his cold lips against her skin, and she sunk in that feeling, the feeling of him against her.

He exposed her breasts, kissing and sucking on them, tracing the pink scar with his finger.

“You’re absolutely perfect.” He kissed her scar and she felt her cheeks go red. His hand slid in between them, finding the wet spot in the apex of her legs, entering her underwear, he rubbed the bundle of nerves, making her squirm beneath him, he drew circles in there, until she was a moaning mess. He moved his kisses down her belly but her hands stopped him.

“We played too much already, I need you High Lord, I need you inside of me.” All the calm and restraint he had, were gone now, he removed the rest of her clothes and she helped him get rid of his own. His cock throbbed painfully, all the blood in his body concentrated in that specific body part. Pre cum covered the tip, making it glisten in the faelights surrounding them.

She grabbed him, giving it a couple of strokes before she positioned him at her entry, wrapping her other arm around his neck and pulling him down, making him sink deep down in her. The two breathed and she felt a moan leave her lips at the fullness she felt with him, she never felt so good before, it was like they were made for each other.

Azriel started to move, slowly in and out as he tried to control his breath, his heart hammered against his chest, and he had to control every inch of his body so he wouldn’t come right away. She was a dream, one he didn’t want to wake up from. She moved her hips up, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to go faster and harder, she needed more and he was going to give it to her.

Their bodies met, and skin slapped against skin, the smell of sex filled their senses as he keep pounding into her. She clenched around him and he moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure run down his body.

“Turn me around!” She breathed and he obeyed her. Getting off of her and turning her on her knees and palms, she arched her back, face resting against the pillows and he almost drooled at the sight of her displayed entirely for him, with a finger he rubbed her clit once more, making her moan loudly at that. Adjusting his cock to her entry, he filled her once more, pounding harder and slapping her ass, until his palm was marked on her skin.

She moaned loudly now, his name reverberating through the walls, she begged him to go faster, her whole body shaking as she felt her orgasm closer and closer. With one hand he grabbed her hair in a ponytail, forcing her head up, and with the other he reached for her clit, rubbing it until all she remembered was his name, which she screamed over and over again.

“Please Azriel, I’m going to cum.” She begged and he pounded harder, feeling her wall clench around him as the orgasm washed over her, her body collapsing on the bed with a long moan coming from her parted lips. Azriel held her waist up, thrusting a little bit more until he felt his cock twitching, the warm jets of cum filled her, dripping from her puffy and red walls as he slowly got out of her.

He laid by her side, pulling on her sweaty and weak body until she was resting on his chest.

“In case it’s not clear. I love you too.” He whispered, kissing her forehead tenderly and she blushed once more, kissing his chest. He traced her scar again, his scarred fingers met with the marred skin in between her breasts.

“A group of warriors tried to get rid of me on my first year as general. Evanore could’ve get rid of this but I wanted to remember. Remember what they did to me and what I have overcome.” Her voice was soft as she looked at the scar too.

“No one will doubt you once you become High Lady.” He whispered and she looked up.

“What?”

“Oh nothing. We should sleep, the meeting is in two days and they will tease the fuck out of us tomorrow.” He said, rubbing her back.

“They will?” She innocently asked.

“You weren’t exactly quiet love, but let’s see if you can be quiet next time.” He winked and she giggled feeling the sleep consume her body.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @allison-rosewood-maximoff @devilsfoodcake22 @fieldofdaisiies @valeridarkness @brekkershadowsinger @margssstuff

[nihilnovisubsole]

phew! finally a weekend where i can set aside enough time to type up The Promised Endwalker Stream-of-Consciousness Post. i finished the base story... a month ago? but work has been busy, and i think tumblr benefits from me being quiet sometimes. anyway, what a ride. when you've been building up to the end of your arc for a decade, you want to hit it like an earthquake, and that's exactly what they did.

i think people love endwalker because it fires on all cylinders. it returns - in both story and vision - to the eorzea we love, and the dev team gets to show off everything they've learned. the dungeons and boss fights are dynamic and imaginative and colorful and bring the game's epic sense of scope to bear. the story callbacks are juicy. the music is orchestral again. we're back home, and we're saving the galaxy. what's better than this?

i love that we go to garlemald. i don't - i mean, you know, i don't like garlemald. i shouldn't have to qualify that. but it's hugely narratively satisfying to see the face of the enemy we've been fighting since the first few hours of ARR. you don't think about them when you're beating them up in castrum centri or ala mhigo. they're star wars bad guys. then you meet them on their own turf. you observe firsthand how they starve and cannibalize their own people to feed their obsession with state power and military strength. the wintry environment makes it seem all the more barren and desperate. my favorite part by far. i wish we'd spent more time there.

actually, on that note:

there is an argument that endwalker should've been two expacs. i've heard similar about stormblood - ala mhigo should've been the whole thing, and doma should've been either patch content or an expac of its own. the prevailing theory is that, after ARR, the devs are afraid of letting arcs run long. i can't speak to that, but i wouldn't have minded, that's for sure!

i won't pretend not to be biased. i've noted in many xiv posts that it hurries through its political plots to get to the magic stuff. i felt more conscious of it in heavensward and especially in stormblood. i made peace with it in endwalker. with dessert this good, who am i to complain? i can do small character drama on my own time. for now, the game wants royce to be a big damn shonen hero, and that can be fun, too.

speaking of characters, urianger and estinien have grown on me. this is the arc where, for me at least, the scions have congealed. they're all good, but with any large cast and custom player character, you tend to form the meatiest bonds with a few specific ones. i think royce appreciates urianger's cooler, more mature head. they're both so formal. he realizes she's someone he can confide in. i think she sees estinien as a gifted, but hotheaded whelp, which i find very funny. patience, child. stop sulking. do your breathing drills.

i love thancred's MGS sequence and in from the cold too. they're stressful, but i love that the team tried, you know what i mean? the fact that you can fight enemies in a pinch makes those duties way more bearable than some other games that experiment with stealth.

in from the cold as a whole, honestly. If You Know, You Know

all right, i can't avoid referencing spoilers anymore, sorry. there's a sense of classical tragedy to the whole elpis sequence. it's like watching macbeth or hamlet. you know how it's going to end, and you know you're powerless to stop it, but if they'd just made that different choice! but we had to leave eden. the warrior of light had to end up where they are to finish what elpis started. i don't do fate/destiny plots, but this? i'll take it.

i also knew what would happen going into ultima thule and still came away from it moved. it's strong writing. that's all there is to it. sure, the visuals are haunting, but the dialogue has to sell a gauntlet of difficult character moments, and it pulls it off. on the design side, there's some interesting intentional friction that forces you to linger in the zone and sit with its sense of despair. that part where you have to search the empty park for signs of life? oof

with the majority of the MSQ under my belt, i started sniffing around for what else there is to do ingame. i tried ninja. did terribly. i tried sage. did terribly too, but at least that gave me access to the healer role quests, which, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). the nier raids are gorgeous. i even did the controversial werlyt quests, and terncliff is so cute. i kind of wish we could have another story there!

what's next? i dunno! right now i'm burning through the hildibrand quests before i continue on with endwalker's patch story. the field operation stuff seems interesting to do after the MSQ, in a "hey, you saved the world, but we have more missions for you" way. i've also contracted Triple Triad Collector Disease, so that'll keep me busy for a long time.

all right. one last thing. Real Gamer Moments: i was in a mount-farming party recently, and i said that i sort of collected mounts, but only used the ishgardian chocobo. it's a roleplay thing - it's the chocobo royce took when she ran away from ishgard. one of the party members said "haurchefant would be proud of you." AUGH

[wifflum]

Video games that suck and why they suck

Dark Souls spawned a wonderful genre with an excellent, new (besides Demon's Souls), combat system that has been improved to have everything you could think of asking for, by games like Stellar Blade. Dark Souls, even though it was first, however, sucks. Here's why it sucks.

Dark Souls was made by a self-proclaimed masochist who said, about the game, "these are ways I would like to die," and then set the entire game design team to the objective of killing the player at every opportunity. It's like hostile architecture as a video game. The game is trying to kill you at almost every step, but it had this amazing new combat system, so that was tolerated. Now the blind sheep that are the masses worship it.

Elden Ring and Sekiro, on the other hand, did not have this incredibly sadistic touch to them, and are far more fun to actually play. And these trainwrecks who love Dark Souls would say it's a skill issue, to not enjoy crawling your way to the next death spot like it's progression in Final Fantasy XIV raids only through a fu**ing level, let alone the boss fights, and would blame the victim of literal and admitted game design sadism.

Red Dead Redemption, Spiderman, God of War, and also Grand Theft Auto (at least the campaign) and Uncharted-- all of these games also suck. This is because they are not made with gameplay in mind, because the target audience hardly gives a sh** about gameplay and just wants an interactive movie. They are, as a popular and often contrarian video game critic put it, "ghost train rides". They are theme park attractions that are purely there to entertain from a distance, and not really to be interacted with like you would expect from a video game. Gameplay is secondary, and it's often almost tertiary it's so far from being considered important. That is why these games suck.

----------------------------

Another somewhat extensive area for video games to suck in, is the Fallout and Elder Scrolls type of games. These games, instead of making story so fu**ing primary that gameplay, the whole point of video games existing at all, is ignored, do the exact same thing with their open-worlds and RPG mechanics. Just imagine a turn-based game like Final Fantasy 7, only the gameplay that can actually kind of stand on its own is actually gameplay that sucks co** and could never stand on its own.

----------------------------

I play video games for combat. To have fun and display skill. Everything else is set dressing for that one primary thing, and games that suck either intentionally obstruct fun combat, like Dark Souls does, or might as well not even include it it's so bad.

-----------------------------

Some other games that suck are fighting games, because in order to get your ration of 3 seconds of neutral game per match, which might be pretty good but in my experience isn't anything to write to my girlfriend in jail about, you have to spend 8 million hours mastering filler moves that waste both players time and just drop the health bars to what they might as well be at the start, which is 3 hits until death.

Tactical RPGs are not that bad, I don't think, but dear God are they stressful sometimes. It's also slow and can get tiresome unless you personally are slow and tired and prefer that pace over action games.

First Person Shooters need defense options other than fu**ing sprint or better offense (throwing a flashbang is an offense action, as is laying a mine) for every situation, which Remnant: From the Ashes really put in sharp relief.

MOBAs, like League of Legends, need to be done differently rather than copying a game that had a barely passing grade on its combat system (DOTA 1 on Warcraft 3) because it took it from an strategy game where you're supposed to be spending 3/4 of your time managing your base and resources and only fighting a small portion of the time. Battleborn actually showed what MOBAs are capable of to some degree, although it didn't have dodges or anything, but got overshadowed by Overwatch which everyone either immediately regretted or regrets now since Overwatch is agony to play.

One game that largely sucked but did not entirely suck, contrary to what everyone and their goldfish will tell you, was Anthem. At one point it had a triple jump, triple dodge, comboing melee character that could frontflip into sniping something in the head or spraying it with submachine gun fire. Yes, that was motherfu**ing Anthem that had that, in the Interceptor Javelin, though the people in the other Javelins did not look to be having much fun.

The last games that suck, which I think everyone largely knows they suck, are Ubisoft games. Now Far Cry isn't that bad, because it still has a reasonable focus on gameplay, but Assassin's Creed games have combat that is almost as ass as Rockstar games' gameplay.

Just, all you have to do, lol, is take some reasonable approximation of soulslike combat, with an actual functional deflect if you include one, unlike Rise of the Ronin, and do whatever your little gimmick is on top of that. People will fall over themselves saying how amazing it is. Just make ACCEPTABLE gameplay with whatever your horsesh** is that your audience of nitwits loves, and it will be something as if from an advanced society in the future.

Although, I personally think the window for that is closing and it wouldn't be jaw-dropping anymore, with soulslikes branching out so much. All we really need now is a soulslike MMO and that'll be the kitchen sink, and I think it's rapidly approaching. All I would ask of someone doing that is that you model the PvP after Guild Wars 1 Random Arenas, and you'd have to study that pretty extensively because there's a lot of nuance that made it so good, but it was namely an extreme difficulty to combat, like you'd get from a PvE game set to Insanity difficulty, somehow enveloping the PvP experience.

----------------------

Anyway, that's how video games of today almost all suck. And it's because they're not really video games; they're either like a simulation of something, traveling or getting stronger, or just straight-up a movie, with video gameyness slapped onto the side like a sticker, with about as much effort put into the application. The games that are good, as video games and not interactive media, which is what a lot of these things should be distinguished as, ask the user to display skill and they make that display enjoyable and varied. There's a million ways to screw up the execution of that design or to excel at it, but only a few games even set that objective of good combat as an actual goal.

But, if it makes makes money it's fine how it is, fu** foresight and artistic integrity, and we must all keep churning out pig slop to the pigs.

[hikarry]

You know what would be gorgeous?

Reign of Louis XIV of France

Crowley is assigned to mess with the French nobles and cause a little trouble so he infiltrates the French court as Monsieur Crowley, a high ranking noble nobody remembers but everyone knows whom is lowkey besties with Prince Philip (because he likes his style, mainly. Queers must stick together innit) and, by result, easily slythers his way to the King's ear if needed

We are in Versailles

King Louis is putting on a performance like he is known for doing and everyone is watching when a strike of blonde white hair catches Crowley's attention. It's so fast he doesn't have time to process it properly but he excuses himself all the same to try and investigate, yet he finds nothing

Later that week King Louis has one of his parties in the gardens of Versailles. A masquerade party, as he is a big fan of

Crowley is mingling with Prince Phillip, his male lover (forgot his name. Sorry, love. He sucked anyway) and some other nobles when he notices the hair again, somewhere in the middle of the party. The hair is long in a fancy wavy hairdo, they are wearing a long puffy clearly cream noble dress and they appear to be mingling with some of the other noble ladies. The person has they're back turned to him. Besides, he's wearing sunglasses and it's night so it's a bit hard to see but he keeps surreptitiously watching over his wine glass anyway

Some people start to disperss to go to the buffet and his line of sign gets less constricted. That's when the person turns around, their arm interlocked with another lady, and their eyes meet. Even though half her face is covered by a hand fan and the other half by a mask, Crowley would recognize those blue eyes anywhere and he smiles to himself as he watches her walk inside the palace

Logically, Heaven must have sent Aziraphale to twart his plans and by Satan doesn't she look heavenly indeed

When the party officially moves inside and there are already people dancing in the saloon, Crowley sticks to the Prince but he isn't hearing a word of the conversation. Instead he is too busy observing an angel mingling with the other ladies and laughing behind her hand fan like the precious thing she is

Eventually he watches her walk up to the buffet tables by herself and he notices a middle aged man leaving his mingling circle and following her. A man he doesn't particularly like, mind

He observes as they talk, the man slowly invading her personal space, trying to hold her hand, and the angel smiling politely and taking a few steps back

Crowley excuses himself and, before he even hears what Phillip has to say, he slythers behind Aziraphale, who bumps against his chest and startles. Crowley surreptitiously lays a hand on her lower back, helping her regain balance and feels her go tense under his touch

"Monsieur Crowley! Your reputation precedes you! I barely noticed you approaching!" The other man says, giving a slight step back as Crowley feels Aziraphale instantly relax against his touch, somewhat leaning into it

Crowley smiles and takes his hand away

"Monsieur Dubois, I didn't mean to interrupt, but I've been looking for Mademoiselle Fell. We have some business to discuss."

"Ah, yes, of course." The man smiles. "Maybe another chance, mademoiselle?" He gives a slight bow, holding her gloved hand and kissing it before slowly leaving.

Crowley hears Aziraphale taking a deep breath before she turns around, closing her hand fan.

"Fancy dress, angel. Suits you." He smiles, taking a step back to give her some space.

"Thank you, my dear. This is why I don't like to present female. Clearly men don't understand when I say I don't dance. I don't know how you do it."

"I do it because it's fun." He takes a grape from the table and pops it into his mouth. "And I like the dresses. I look really good wearing a corset." Aziraphale rolls her eyes.

"I feel like I can barely breath through mine."

"You get used to it. Beauty hurts, angel. Especially when you are a woman." He looks around. "What are you doing in France anyway? I thought you were still in Florence."

"Gabriel sent me. I'm to inspire some artists and keep an eye on you."

"Aw, you flatter me." Crowley picks up a slice of cake and hands it to Aziraphale. "Cake?"

The angel smiles and gives a little wiggle, taking the plate and the small fork from his hands.

"I haven't tried any sweets yet. Gabriel said I should control myself if I wanted to fit in the dress."

Crowley's hands clench into fists and he takes a second or two to breath.

"Gabriel is a wanker. Dresses were made to fit you, not the other way around." He leans on the table, hiding his hands on his pockets. "Eat as much as you desire, angel. You look stunning."

Aziraphale doesn't answer for a while, just looking at the people dancing.

"Would you like to step out into the balcony, my dear? Some fresh air would probably do us good."

He clears his throat, straightening himself.

"Lead the way."

Do what you will with this. It was supposed just to be a small imagine with fem presenting Aziraphale in a gorgeous gown and Crowley not being able to take his eyes from her but it clearly got out of my hand real quick. Alas, here we are

[girlfox]

What people make you happy when you see them on the dash?

❛ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 , : a series of questions for the mun / the person behind the muse(s) .

OOOOH BOY. okay, is this my chance to love on some of my favorite oomfies? because i am so going to send love their way. keep in mind that everyone i follow brings me a measure of joy; if they didn't, we wouldn't be mutuals! but i'll gush about a couple people i know ooc, as well. just because i wanna spread some love.

@nihilara ( & their other blogs ) brings me legitimately so much joy, i get so excited whenever i see them on my dash. their drawings and rambles and fun interactions with others . . they're amazing. i can't speak enough good things about rhys.

@otlaw is one of my closest friends on here, too, and they're such a pillar of love and support and fun and, i just get like a puppy dog with my tail wagging when they're being active or when they follow me on their 100th new blog HAHAHA. love u leif.

@krosakis YOU DUH? dan you've been one of my favorite oomfies for an ice age at this point. i don't even know what my dash looks like without you on it . . . and i don't wanna know. having you around just feels right, like my dash is complete.

@diveyne because sabrina has been a very long time friend at this point, and has always been supportive and hyped me up like the beautiful goth princess they are. MWWWAH. their writing is also captivating and i just love it whenever it pops up on my feed.

@youthblooms and ALL of their blogs. whenever they pop up, i'm like a goldfish doing a lil happy jump out of my fish bowl bc i just know i'm about to be FED. everything they write is amazing, and i also just love their characters and them as a person in general. nams is the BEST.

@furiaei is a recent friend, but we connected pretty deeply right away and honestly i just adore their enthusiasm and drive for their character. they're also an incredibly kind person, and i'm so glad i met them.

@dvouer because while we're still getting to know each other ooc, they've been relentlessly kind and warm to me, and before we ever even spoke out of character, i've love love loved their original character venus; both them and kiwi are just absolute dolls.

@oriphical is a long time friend at this point too, i just adore bun & its infinite patience with my slow ass replies to dms. pleading emoji @ it right now. but its xiv oc and honestly every other character it writes is always beautifully done, filled with passion, and just so interesting and complex and well thought out. it's also just a very very very kind and fun individual.

@sivrit niran is THE BOMBBBBB. i love every single character he churns out, whether it's the immense love put into the lore and development of their originals, or the total passion put into writing a canon character. he's also just so kind and warm and fun to talk to, and seeing him on my dash makes me so happy.

@eatdivines EDITING THIS BECAUSE HOW DID I NOT ADD IN VAL? my brain is scrambled eggs. but seriously. i love valentine so fucking much it's not even funny; they're adorable, they're kind, they're compassionate, they're sweet and thoughtful. they also have wait more of a back bone than i ever will, and they're someone who will always have your back no matter what. for these reasons alone i love seeing val on my dash. but also? i am enthralled with their writing on ahri and in the past, kagome. their takes are so unique and interesting and god i'm living for it.