#midnight familiar legacy

[fireflymoonwitch]

Relief

Midnight Familiar Legacy: First / Previous / Next

#ts4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #ts4 berry sims #berry sweet sims #midnight familiar legacy #ts4 screenshots #the sims #the sims 4 #the sims screenshots #ts4 fairy #ts4 occult #fay midnight #amerite nebula #simblog #ts4 #ts4 simblr #simblr #ts4 gameplay #ts4 gameplay challenge #berry sims #berry sim

[hwknshellfire]

midnight visitor - billy hargrove x harrington!reader

pairing: billy x harrington!reader

summary: billy climbs in your window after an episode with his dad and you try to hide your relationship from your big bro steve

length: 1.9k (i got carried away with soft!billy)

warnings: mainly fluff, soft!billy, mentions of sex, mentions of abuse (billy's dad)

a.n: set around s2/3 ish? there are no volume 2 spoilers in this post!

It was late on a Tuesday night and as usual, you were doing homework, books sprawled out on your bed. You’d been at it for hours and your eyes stung but there was a huge test coming up that you couldn't fail. It would ruin your whole Harrington reputation and since your older brother, Steve, graduated, it was up to you to continue the family legacy.

The problem was, you didn’t care much. It’s not that you didn’t care about your education, because you did and you were grateful. But your parents (when they were around) would put immense amounts of pressure on you and you hated it. Steve managed to break away from it a bit and a part of you hated him a little for it, but you couldn’t blame him. If you could, you would forget about an Ivy League school and stay in Hawkins with your friends, get a job and have the life you actually wanted. And it was thanks to a certain someone who helped you realise what you actually wanted, not your parents - Billy Hargrove.

You’d met on his first day of school when he’d waltzed in late to your math class and his entire persona dripped of Bad Boy. And yet, there was a certain nervousness to him as he sat beside you, fingers drumming on the desk repetitively. After a while, it got on your nerves enough for you to place your hand on top of it to stop the incessant noise. He had blinked and looked at you - and that was it. You had fallen head over heels for him.

No one could know, at first. If your friends (and Steve) found out that you were dating the school’s, hell, Hawkins’, biggest bad boy then you would be murdered on sight. It didn’t take Billy long to replace your brother’s ‘King Steve’ place and even though you were fairly popular too, you still couldn’t tell anyone that Y/N Harrington was in love with Billy Hargrove. But, steadily, people found out. Max and Lucas were first after they caught you and Billy in the middle of things after school one day and you swore them to secrecy. But of course, Lucas told Dustin, Mike, and Will. And if the boys knew, it was only a matter of time before your brother found out.

Somehow, it had been a month and Steve hadn’t said a word to you. You picked up your history textbook as you thought about it. Did Steve know? Had the boys finally told him and he just hadn’t addressed it yet or did he truly not know?

A tap on your window rouses you from your thoughts. You frowned. Did you imagine it? The clock on your bedside table told you it was near midnight. You’d been studying since seven and had barely stopped to breathe. Maybe you were just tired. But then it came again and you definitely hadn’t imagined that.

You rose from your bed, papers and books shifting at the disturbance. Your bedroom overlooked the pool and the floodlights outside barely illuminated a figure at the bottom of your window, but this was a familiar enough routine that you knew who it was. You unlatched your window and pushed it all the way up, leaning out. The night air made your bare arms break out in goosebumps and you shivered.

“Billy?” you whispered, hoping that Steve was asleep in the room next door. Your parents were away for the week so you didn’t have to worry about them, but Steve was like a watchdog.

Normally, Billy would be leaning against the wall with a smirk on his mouth and a quip ready on his lips that would always wind up with the pair of you tangled in your bedsheets and out of breath. But sometimes…sometimes he was quiet. Sad. Beaten.

Tonight was one of these times.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice almost broken. You wondered how bad it was this time.

“Come on,” you said simply. He always waited for permission before entering your bedroom and you found that sweet, even in the state he was in. Slowly, you watched him climb up the side of your house, using the windows and pipes and the sheer strength of his muscles to pull himself into your window. You helped him in and pulled the window back down as quietly as you could but you stumbled and it landed with a clatter. You tensed and both you and Billy waited for sounds of Steve. Sure enough, his footsteps sounded down the hall and there was a knock on your day.l “Y/N? Everything alright in there?” Steve voice came from outside your bedroom door.

“Yep, all good!” you called back, hoping you were convincing. “My window got stuck again.”

“Oh, okay. Well, night!” Steve replied and you listened to him leave, only relaxing when you heard his bedroom door close again.

When you turned around, you gasped. Billy’s eye was almost swollen shut and there was a lovely, vicious bruise forming along his jaw. His top lip was also split, slightly swollen and dried blood painted it. Your heart sank to the floor. “Oh, Billy,” you sighed.

He finally met your eyes, shining with tears. “’S not that bad,” he brushed it off. “But I can’t clean it up.” You picked up on what he was asking without words, as always. He was asking for help.

You swallowed thickly and nodded. “Of course. Come here.” You led him to your bed as always and he perched on the edge, careful to move your books to the side.

As you went to your desk to retrieve your supplies for these situations, Billy glanced around your room. On his usual visits, he never really paid any attention to it. He was otherwise occupied. But whenever he showed up like this, he studied every inch of it as if by examining the walls, he was examining the inside of your brain. And, you supposed, he was.

He looked at which record you had listened to most recently (Queen’s The Works) and what books you were reading (a lot of Jane Austen, looking at your bookcase). He loved learning little details about your life that you didn’t realise he cared about. He’d also never admit it out loud but he loved listening to you talk for hours about what you loved, thinking that he had no idea what you were talking about when really he knew exactly what you were saying.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. Your back was turned but you frowned at him as you turned around, first aid kit in your hand.

“Sorry?” you repeated. “For what?”

He waved around your room. “For interrupting so late. Didn’t mean to.”

You came over and knelt on the floor between his legs. There was nothing remotely sexual about it this time and you took his hands gently in yours and made him look at you. “Billy, it’s fine. I’d rather you be here than there.” He knew where you meant. At home, with his asshole father that did this to him. You wondered what Billy had done this time that had caused his father to flip. You never asked explicitly. If Billy wanted to tell you, he would. He usually didn’t and you never pressed. But you knew it was usually about Max and how he should be more responsible for her. Which, you thought, was rather unfair. Max was her own person and god knows she had a mind of her own. Billy didn’t want to look after his step sister all the time and you understood that. But his father didn’t.

You took a deep breath as he nodded. Letting go of his hands, you unzipped the first aid kit and got to work. “This is going to hurt,” you said like always, even though he knew. This had happened enough times that he knew exactly what would happen when you pressed a cloth with alcohol to his lip to clean the wound. He hissed and you used your other hand to grip his leg to keep him still. He placed his hands on your shoulders to keep himself steady as you worked to clean up the mess his father had left.

You tried to fill the silence with distractions. “So Steve hasn’t said anything yet.”

Billy’s eyebrow on his good eye lifted in surprise. “No? Interesting.” He mumbled. “Reckon he knows I’m banging the better looking Harrington?” You gave him a look and smacked him arm very lightly, but a smile tugged at your lips. There was Billy’s humour returning. He grinned at you. “What?” he said innocently. “I’m being honest. You really are better looking than him.”

“Oh, shut up,” you scolded but your tone was entirely un-serious. “To answer your question properly, no I don’t think he knows yet. There’s no way in hell he’d be quiet if he found out what you were doing to his baby sister.”

Billy smirked. “Maybe we should tell him. I could do with a good laugh right about now.”

You set down your supplies as you finished and tossed the blood-stained cloths in the bin. “Absolutely not,” you shook your head before standing up and looking down at him. You pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “All done and all handsome again.”

He brought you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your middle. His head rested on your stomach and you gently played with his hair for a moment. “Thank you,” he mumbled into your top.

“Always,” you told him sincerely.

He sighed and pulled away. “I suppose I should get back. I’ve disturbed your study session enough.” He made to stand up but you shook your head.

“Uh-uh. There’s no way you’re going back home tonight. You know the drill, Hargrove.” He blinked at your sudden dominance and bowed his head, relenting.

“Yes, sir,” he huffed a laugh and looked at your bed, head cocked. “I would offer to put this shit away but we both know I’d mess with your system.”

“Quite right,” you nodded before gathering your study materials and quietly placing them on your desk. Then you got ready for bed as usual, turning off the main light and putting on your night light that Billy had teased you about for weeks the first time he’d visited your room. You tossed Billy one of his spare t-shirts that you kept in the bottom drawer of your dresser and the pair of you dressed for bed, removing your jeans and climbing into bed beside each other.

You laid with your head on his chest, listening to his breathing, glad he was okay. Nights like this always humbled you, grateful for the family you had even though you had your own problems. At least your parents never hurt you the way Billy’s dad did to him.

“Goodnight, princess,” Billy said quietly, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Night, Billy.” He snuggled in closer and turned the pair of you until your back was pressed against his chest. But as you moved, something shifted in the bed and fell out, landing with a hard slam on the floor.

“Shit!” you hissed, the pair of you sitting up to see a stray textbook on the floor. You’d missed one.

“Y/N?” Steve was outside the door again and you barely had time to stop him before he opened the door. As Steve’s eyes landed on you, his baby sister, and Billy Hargrove in bed together, he screamed.

“Shit,” you repeated.

As Steve began to lecture you, Billy pressed a kiss to your shoulder and muttered, “Well, I guess your brother knows.”

masterlist // requests

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x yn #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove smut #dacre montgomery #stranger things #stranger things volume 2 #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things 4 #hwknshellfire #billy hargrove x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson #x reader

[taylortruther]

Rae, we actually have the same favorite (The Black Dog) and least favorite (thanK you aIMee) songs lol. I subjectively really love the album and have resonated a lot with it, although objectively I do recognize that as an art product, it's not as excellently curated and of the technical quality (cohesion, thematic continuity, etc) as say folklore or Midnights, but that's not the point of this album. Imo she really needed to put out this entire album as it is, completely raw, bloated, and unedited, in all of its glorious messiness. As a fellow pathological people pleaser, I find it very admirable that for once she decided to not cater to anyone's demands and expectations when in the past she has very obviously curated her work to be what the Recording Academy looked for (1989), what the public outside of her fans wanted from her (folkmore), or just to prove herself against critics (og Speak Now). She said "fuck that, I'm doing this for me because I need an exorcism from this" and not only do I really respect that but I also love it as personal character growth for her. I think this body of work is a very natural evolution of her artistry. I made a post about this but basically something that stood out to me a lot from this album is the intentional de-personalization of extremely personal feelings and stories. She seems to have decided for this project that in order to be free to be completely honest in her art, she needs to visualize herself, and thus her stories, as a third party, an external entity on which she's conducting a post-mortem examination. Consequently, the characters in her life are, too, bestowed upon fictional characters (Cassandra, Peter Pan, Ken, Sarahs and Hannahs, etc) from stories that have been told before and/or are familiar in some way to the listener. Then, the 4th wall is delightfully broken in Clara Bow, where she refers to Clara Bow and Stevie Nicks as the inherent precedents to Taylor Swift. But what's even more brilliant about this is that in this way, she is making Taylor Swift into a character in and of itself. She is actually attempting to externalize Taylor Swift from Taylor the real-life woman. By narrating her stories through tangible entities presented as completely external to herself, she is inhibited by the safety of this fictional/allegorical lense through which she's allowing her stories to be consumed, and as a result, she has unlimited freedom to be more personal than she has ever been in her art before. I'm really fascinated by this with this album and it's much more interesting to me personall than the muse discourse although I do find that fun and important too, but yeah right now ttps is my second favorite after folklore lol

yesss and i especially love that both closers - clara bow and the manuscript - have her externalizing these things. clara bow separates Taylor Swift, Commodity from taylor swift, flawed human being, and the manuscript separates the legacy of all too well, and the relationship that sparked it, from who she is now. it feels like a huge turning point in her work as an artist and a human tbh.

#clara bow #the manuscript

[bullet-prooflove]

Stockton!Series Part Six: Times Are Changing - Nestor Oceteva x Reader (feat: Bishop Losa & Marcus Alvarez)

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @fanfic-n-tabulous @beardedbarba @adaydreamaway08 @librarian1002 @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @msjava1972 @trublu2u @fleureeee @jp1019 @thiashazzywriting @jeybae @collegegirl83

Stockton!Series:

Part One: El Cuchillo - An incident in the clubhouse causes ramifcations for the entire club.

Part Two: Always - Nestor learns about what happened.

Part Three: In the Dark - You and Nestor wake up to find armed men in your house.

Part Four: Sierra - Marcus takes care of the men who tried to kill you.

Part Five: Maternal - Nestor and you take refuge at a familiar location.

It’s past midnight and Marcus sits alone in Templo. He’s taken the seat at the head of the table, his fingertips flicking through ‘The Good Book’, the one that Marcus had created when he founded the club all those years ago. Their history, their rules, their legacy, it’s all contained within these pages.

It’s been horrible couple of days, for him, for the MC, for his family, because that’s what you are to him, family. His daughter, born of fire and blood, the one that Ramos had tried to murder in her sleep, all over a grudge from something that happened when you were a child. Something you have no knowledge of, that’s he’s determined you’ll never have any knowledge of.

This book it plays a part in that.

As he reads it, he recognises the ramblings of the angry, violent man he used to be. The monster he calls it now, when he talks to Izzy.

He raises his head as Bishop enters through the stained-glass door. In each of his hands he holds a mug of coffee, the real stuff. Marcus would know that aromatic scent anywhere, it’s the same brand he keeps in his house. He sets one of the mugs in front of Marcus before he takes up residence in the V.P’s seat.

“Hell of a day.” Bishop says rubbing his hands over his weary features.

“Yea.” Marcus says as he picks up his coffee cup and takes a sip. “I’m just hoping they got the message otherwise things are about to get real fucked up.”

“Stockton was already fucked up. Things will change now Ramos is gone.” Bishop assures the other man. “Smokey’s tough, he’ll rein them in and the ones that don’t fall into line…I won’t shed any tears for them.”

Marcus shakes his head.

“I won’t either.”

There’s silence between the two of them for a moment, each man lost in his own thoughts. It shouldn’t have come down to this, they should have dealt with this problem long before Ramos had ever laid eyes on you.

“I haven’t seen that for a while.” Bishop utters, gesturing towards the book.

Marcus sighs heavily.

“Probably for good reason.” Marcus says before he turns the book towards Bishop.

The other man studies the words before shaking his head.

“It was a different time back then.” Bishop says, removing the cigarettes from inside of his kutte. He taps the box upon the table before removing one and placing it between his lips.

“We talk about women as if their property, something to be owned, to be traded when we get tired of them.” Marcus jabs his finger at the paper. “This book tells us their only good for sex or serving, it doesn’t talk about love or respect. Is it any wonder that charters like Stockton act the way they do when these are the values, we’ve instilled in them?”

Bishop lights up his cigarette, he takes a drag.

“The world is changing El Padrino. We have to adapt.” Bishop says as he taps the ash off the end of cigarette. “We care about our women here; we cherish them but other charters… It needs to be a message that goes out across the club. What happened the other day can’t be allowed to happen again, not to anyone. There needs to be repercussions for that type of shit.”

Marcus nods his agreement, his hands wrapping the mug.

“I’m proud of that you’ve done here primo, legitimising the MC, supporting the community.” He tells Bishop earnestly. “This charter’s become more than I could have dreamed of.”

“And all it took was for me to pull my head out of my ass.” Bishop remarks before he takes another drag on the cigarette as he watches Marcus withdraw an A6 notebook from the interior pocket of his kutte. He pushes it towards the other man with his fingertips.

“This is what I’ve put together, a revised edition of the by-laws.” Marcus tells Bishop before he drains the rest of his coffee.

Bishop reviews the changes before tapping his fingertip upon the paper and raising his eyes to meet Marcus’s.

“We need to talk about Taza.”

Marcus clasps his hands together, his lips pursing into a grim line.

“We have to lead by example El Padrino,” Bishop tells him, his voice gruff as he stubs out his cigarette. “He has suffered for so long under the weight of this secret, putting the club before himself over and over again. I can’t help but wonder how many other Tazas are out there, how many other brothers are struggling with something just like this and what happens to the ones that aren’t as strong as him.”

Marcus knows what he’s talking about, the suicides that leave no notes, the members that are quietly taken care of for an infraction that can’t be discussed.

“We have to do better.” Bishop tells him, picking up the cigarette box and tapping it upon the surface of the table.  “Every single one of us deserves to love who we love and not be punished for it.”

“You’re right.” Marcus says finally, picking up his pen and adding the amendment. “I’ll get this drawn up and sent out to the other charters.”

Marcus raises to his feet, tucking the notebook back into his kutte. His hand comes to rest upon Bishop’s shoulder, clasping it tightly.

“You’ve been leading the way for a while now, primo. It’s time for the other charters to get in line and follow.”

Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #marcus alvarez #mayans mc #bishop losa #obispo losa #obispo bishop losa

[zahri-melitor]

New 52 Bat Comics: What to read

Claiming everything in this 5 year period is irredeemable is a long ask, and there’s both some stories in here that are important in terms of ‘where things happen’ and others that are just genuinely entertaining reads. I enjoyed myself on multiple occasions as I worked through this period, and I'd like to put a spotlight on those occasions.

Here’s my suggestions of what to pick up if you are interested:-

Batwoman, particularly J.H. Williams III’s run (#1-24). If you have any interest in Kate Kane at all, this picks up immediately following Rucka’s Elegy storyline in ‘Tec, and only has the smallest levels of retcons built in to update from pre-Flashpoint (Cameron Chase gets a character reset, the DEO is slightly different, there’s a chunk of alluded to backstory with Renee Montoya that’s been shaken up by Montoya losing a lot of her history). Marc Andreyko’s run should have been better than it was – he handles the editorially-mandated Kate and Maggie breakup in a way that’s very familiar if you’ve read Andreyko’s Manhunter, but never manages to achieve a particularly interesting plot. I would however suggest reading the Batwoman Annual written by Andreyko, even if you stop at Andreyko, as it ties off the Williams III story.

Gotham By Midnight: Gotham police’s secret magic division, where Jim Corrigan, as the Spectre, is dealing with supernatural threats. Exactly the sort of minor series that gives more depth to Gotham as a city.

Detective Comics #30-44: Francis Manapul and Brian Buccellato’s run on ‘Tec and the guest story from Ben Percy (Terminal 1&2) is probably my favourite mainline Batman storytelling of all of n52. It’s very police force based, rather like Rucka and Brubaker’s runs in the early 2000s. It’s focused on Harvey Bullock, but in a compelling way. They handle the concept of Batman, both from Bruce and from an outsider’s perspective, in a way that reminds me of some of the best Batman storytelling. The first two arcs are better than the third, for the unavoidable reason that Jim Gordon’s Batman in the third arc. Ben Percy’s Terminal 1&2 is a genuinely compelling airport disease outbreak story, and unlike a bunch of these types, holds up to read post-2020.

Arkham Manor: Despite what the title might make you believe, this is a delightfully fun story. Come for ‘what happened when Arkham Asylum fell into a hole in the ground’, stay for possibly my favourite Victor Fries characterisation ever. Next time anyone tells you Bruce Wayne doesn’t care about the rehabilitation of criminals, remember he gave up his HOUSE so they had somewhere safe to stay and he convinced the cops and psychiatrists to let Victor Fries live in an igloo on the Manor lawn basically for enrichment purposes.

Gotham Academy: look, if you want a lighthearted school story about teens that dips into some of the weirder mythology of Gotham without getting too bogged down in it? This is a fun read. There is definitely bonus when you know various other Gotham properties well, but at heart it’s just a magical/meta-filled school.

We Are Robin: I really like this as a story fleshing out Gotham and what Robin as a concept means to the children and teens of Gotham. Duke’s great and this solidifies a lot of the characterisation Snyder gave him and really grounds him with a backstory, but Riko Sheridan is also sparkling off the page with potential.

Batman & Robin, #1-23. Frequently frustrating, this is probably the best balance of writing of Damian in n52 and of Bruce’s feelings towards Damian. The 5 issues immediately after Requiem really set out for me the difference in discussion of death of a child between 1989 and ALPOD and 2013 and Damian’s death. I also think this contains the best writing of Damian actually struggling with his legacy as a ROBIN and with his feelings as the youngest child of the family.

Robin: Son of Batman: this in contrast is more of a look at Damian’s backstory PRIOR to his first appearance in Gotham and dealing with his feelings and penitence for his actions with the League of Assassins. It’s good if you want a whole-hearted attempt at balancing the inherent contradictions between “Damian’s existence and childhood is a betrayal by Talia that is hard to forgive” and “Talia as a complex character who loves her son”.

#z canon read throughs #story recommendations #there's some gold in that wash pan for n52

[mvrtaiswriting]

Wonderland (Part 3) x Reiner Braun.

third and final part finally here! this artwork had me spiralling for months - and i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did. this will be the concluding part of the series but nevertheless, not the last work about reiner eheh. thank you for being part of this journey with me <;3 (part 1 here) (part 2 here). as always, let me know what you think!

Follows AOT timeline, so please be mindful of any spoilers ahead. Specifically, this first part contains spoilers from season 4 (every animated part). The segments and different timezones of the story are divided by quotes from different Taylor Swift songs, which were vital for the formation of this idea. More specifically, the song that served as the backbone for this part of the story was The Great War, from the Midnights album. This part also used Out of the Woods, from the 1989 album, Afterglow, from the Lover album and Renegade, by Big Red Machine and Taylor Swift, from the How Long Do You Think It's Gonna Last album.

gn! reader.

usual AOT violence.

2.7K words.

All the the bloodshed, crimson clover . 

Forcing you to kneel on the ground, Floch pinned your hands behind your back and quickly handcuffed you, preparing you for the execution planned by Yelena. A small laugh escaped your lips as you realised how ironically your fate had played out. Being held at gun point, gagged by a stupid cloth between your teeth, tied behind your head tight enough to not slip away. What you were leaving behind was a legacy of lies and betrayal, patriotism winning over love. How ironic of Marley to invade Paradise now that you were seconds away from dying - taking away the last ridiculous crumb of hope to see Reiner once again.

It probably didn't matter - he probably hated you by now, you knew very well what it meant to be betrayed by the one you loved the most. It was the type of pain that never really goes away, like an old scar that still burns even after years. You and Reiner were even now, but at what cost? Did he love you as much as you loved him? Was he ever torturing himself for what he did the way that you kept doing since the first night you slept without him?

The first gunshot you heard made you jump a little. It was close to you, enough to momentarily make your ears whistle. Jean always had a good aim, what was this bullshit? The second one followed almost immediately, just a few centimetres away from the other one. When the third shot missed you too, you knew something was off - and before you could realise it, you were pulled away from the whole scene by Mikasa, who was quick to untie you.

Handing you your ODM equipment, Mikasa silently pointed out towards the city. And that's when you saw him - towering even Eren's titan, his golden armour shining through the explosion's smokes. A small smile formed on your lips - you missed him so much, yet you were fighting again. In different fractions, on opposite sides.

It was an endless fight - every second, you saw your companions falling from the sky, shot down like birds. You were doing your best to protect your comrades, soaring through the sky and killing your enemies as if they were annoying flies. There was no time to wonder about morality anymore - it was you against them. Orders from Jean asked you to pay no mind to the titans that were entering the city through the breach on the wall, unless they were a threat to life - and so you did. You kept fighting and fighting, until a screeching scream stopped you in your tracks - a roar so familiar, that you couldn't quite recognise.

When you finally turned around, you saw the Armoured titan's nape being bitten and slowly destroyed by a titan. For the first time in years, an old, paralysing feeling invaded your body. Your muscles stiffened whilst your heart started beating so fast it could have almost burst out of your chest.

Fear.

For the first time in years, you were afraid. It took you more than what you wished it did for you to finally soar through the sky again, using the remains of the surrounding buildings as levers to your ODM gears, running towards Reiner. The normal titan had now changed its target but Reiner was standing still, impaled by one of Eren's fists. Using one of your thunder spears, you aimed at Reiner's nape - it was now or never. In seconds that felt like an eternity, you grabbed Reiner out of his titan body.

"C'mon big boy, wake up!"

You said through gritted teeth\, wrapping one of Reiner's arm around your shoulder and soaring through the sky once again. He wasn't responding, his body was heavier than yours and it was slowing your movements down. This couldn't be the end - not for him, not for you. And if it was, you wouldn't have left him behind anymore. It was you and him now, regardless. And if he had to die tonight, then you would too.

Twenty stitches in a hospital room - when you started crying, baby, I did too.

Finally finding repair in a now abandoned house, you laid Reiner's body on the floor. Searching through the various drawers, you managed to find a blanket and a first aid kit - not the best you could ask for, but definitely enough to save his life. Despite his self-healing abilities, you were still afraid he wouldn't be able to heal properly on his own. His body kept giving off steam, slowly closing his wounds.

Tucking him with a warm blanket and providing him the best pillow you could find, you finally sat back. The war outside was still going strong - at every second, a loud explosion would make the walls tremble. Screams of pain and terror filled the brief moments of silence between gunshots and bombs. You took a second to take a closer look at Reiner, your gaze meticulously scanning the way he was seemingly sleeping like a baby, the usual crouch on the bridge of his nose now finally relaxed. It had been months since the last time you saw him, but it felt like an eternity; he almost looked older - his beard was longer and the lines on his face seemed a little deeper. Scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper which you left next to his pillow, you kissed his temple and fixed your equipment - your friends were still out there fighting as the apocalypse succumbed on Paradise, and it was your duty to fight.

You were on a roof with Mikasa and Armin when the walls started to crumble. One by one, each colossal titan trapped inside the walls was released, marching away from the Island. The earth trembled with every step they took, filling the air with steam and an unbearable rumble. Nonetheless, the city was now invaded by titans - familiar titans, with a name, a life, a story. With Armin co-ordinating the attack once again, you gave one final goodbye to whom was once a fellow cadet, or a captain.

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in; I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye.

"Enough!"

You screamed, stopping Jean's arm from landing one more punch on Reiner's face, now covered in blood. Reiner didn't even flinch - he stood still, taking every hit from Jean's angry fists, ignoring every survival instinct he might have had. The usual adrenaline did not kick in - not a fight or flight situation, he just let violence rain over him.

"Enough."

You reiterated with a firmer tone, softening your grip on Jean's arm and letting your hand slide to his shoulder - to comfort him, of course, or to have a better grip if you needed to pin him down to stop him. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you felt Jean's muscles relax under your touch, his intimidating gaze never leaving Reiner's. Carefully, you moved in front of Jean, your body now acting as a barrier between him and Reiner. Resting your hands on his chest, you gently pushed him backwards, forcing him to take a few steps back. Your steps followed his, never letting your hands slip off his chest. This was always your thing, after all - calming Jean down, dragging him off from the dark places his mind often wondered to. And so did he - you lost count of the amount of times he saved your life, sometimes more metaphorically than others.

Jean's eyes were now piercing yours - his brows were still frowned but he slowly regained his composure. His breathing was still heavy from the adrenaline rush he had experienced, but it slowly became steadier, more regular. As much as you hated to admit it, you were partially responsible for Jean's outburst - his hatred towards Reiner has been fuelled and nurtured for years. He was the one who saved you when Reiner pushed you off the Wall Maria, he was there when you almost got eaten by a titan because you were still grieving Reiner's betrayal to fight properly. He had wiped every tear and saved you every time - yet, at the end of the day, you always ran back to Reiner. Regardless of how bad he had hurt you, regardless of all the times you said you hated him - you always fell back into Reiner's arms. And Jean hated it - he hated the way you would always break your back to surprise Reiner, the way he would always win. Jean hated Reiner because he was still alive after all the shit he had done and Sasha wasn't, he hated him for the way he always managed to somehow redeem himself and have his happy ever after. Even now, the absence of any kind of reaction disgusted Jean - Reiner took every blow, knowing that he would self-heal every wound in a matter of minutes. More than that, Jean was disgusted by Reiner's audacity to give you the silent treatment - if he could have done it, Jean would have probably shoved an hand down Reiner's throat and pull all the words you needed to hear: something along the lines of "thanks for saving my ass out there" or "I don't deserve you".

Yet, all you received was silence. Even when everyone laughed at Hange's reaction to the cart titan, even when you called out his name to ask him if he wanted more soup. It was as if the armour of his titan was still working even now, in his human form - keeping his emotions safe, locking his heart into a silent crypt.

Tell me that I'm all you want, even when I break your heart. 

Sneaking out of your tent in the middle of the night, you made your way to Reiner's sleeping bag.

"Can we talk?"

You whispered, shaking his shoulder in an attempt to wake him up. Shifting in his sleeping bag, he slowly turned around to face you.

"Reiner, I swear to god.." You mumbled again, this time in a more menacing tone. Anticipating your moves, he instinctively moved away from your painful grip before you could pinch him awake. It was an old habit of yours, a trick you had learned to be very effective when trying to get him out of bed during particularly sleepy mornings. For a brief second, Reiner almost forgot he was sleeping on the ground in the middle of a forest - for a sweet moment, memories of the two you spending all morning in bed came back to him in a blur.

Stepping away from the little camp Hange improvised, you walked your way into the woods. The flickering campfire you had lit hours ago was still burning, allowing you to catch a glimpse of Reiner's face. His tall figure was laying against one of the trees, his muscular arms crossed across his chest.

"I had no other choice. And I'm sure you know how it feels."

You finally spoke, finally breaking that uncomfortable silence that had suddenly settled between the two of you. Your words came out sharper than intended, hitting Reiner exactly where it hurt him the most.

"You're a better liar than I ever was."

Reiner quickly replied, a chuckle escaping his lips as he locked his eyes on yours.

"What's there to talk about? Didn't you say enough already, with all your fairytales about love and forgiveness? "

He continued through gritted teeth; he was furious, but his voice slightly cracked mid-sentence, betraying his stoic façade. There was a subtle irony to the nature of his hurt - you followed his steps, bringing destruction and death upon his country. Reiner shared his tears and nightmares with you, he showed you the depth of his remorse, the sincerity of his regrets - and you had cried with him, you told him that none of it mattered now that you had each other. Days turned into week and before you could even realise it, you were living together. He even bought a ring: he only had a few years to live and nothing to lose; he wanted to dedicate his life to you. Instead, you left without a warning sign and dragged him down to the end of the world, forcing him to be what he hated the most - a weapon, a monster, a cold blooded assassin.

"Why do you think I saved you? I don't want to be thanked for it, but at least dare to look at me? At least try to acknowledge my existence instead of treating me if nothing ever happened, like what we had wasn't real."

You snapped back, raising your voice. Words kept rolling off your tongue, you were speaking faster than you could think and you almost lost your breath.

"I really don't know. I don't know why you saved me, I don't know what that ridiculous love scene with Jean was, I don't know what those months spent together meant to you! Because if they did mean something, then why did you leave? Why did you leave me behind when you knew, you knew! You knew I would have followed you!"

Reiner roared back, the vein on his neck become more and more visible. His body was now only few inches away from yours, his taller figure completely obliterating yours.

Silence dawned between the two of you once again - you had never seen Reiner so mad. There was so much you wanted to say, but the lump in your throat killed every word before it could come out, leaving you like a nervous, silent wreck in front of the man you loved. It was the end of the world and this time, you were defenceless. There were only a few steps between you and Reiner - he was close enough to let his breath caress your face, the scent of his cologne burning in your lungs with every breath.

"I had to." You finally whispered, only causing Reiner to sigh in response, trying is best to not snap at you again. Your voice was weak, troubled by the burning knot in your throat. He brushed on his wide hand against his face, as if that gesture could help him reorganise his thoughts.

"Is it insensitive for me to say get your shit together, so I can love you?" 

Reiner replied hopelessly, another sigh leaving his lips. His voice was calmer now, but his words felt heavy, sharp as a dagger piercing through your heart, once inch after the other.

Weakly shaking your head in response and the sound of you snorting your tears away was all it took to melt Reiner's heart. Wrapping his arms around you, he brought you closer to him - your head was now resting against his chest as the tears you were hardly fighting finally streamed down your cheeks. Being into Reiner's arms felt just right - as if all the planets just aligned, as if all your broken pieces were put together again.

When you first agreed to your mission in Liberio, you weren't expecting to fall in love all over again with Reiner. You thought these feelings were buried deep enough to never emerge again, hidden under a carpet of hatred and resentment. You entered Liberio wanting revenge, wanting to be even with Reiner. But when you left, revenge didn't taste as sweet as you expected; rather, it felt like sour liquor burning down your throat, slowly melting away every piece of your being like some kind of corrosive acid. Your relationship with Reiner felt like playing a chess match, each of you using the most unfair techniques, disguising your pawns as queens. It felt like war and it wasn't fair; and now that you were given another chance, you promised yourself would not waste it. Regardless of the future that lied ahead, from that moment you vowed you would spend however time you had left right by his side.

"I vow I will always be yours, if we survive the Great War."

#reiner headcanons #reiner x reader #reiner attack on titan #snk reiner #reiner braun #reiner imagine #attack on titan reiner #reiner x y/n #reiner snk #reiner x oc #reiner brainrot #reiner fanart #reiner fanfic #reiner fluff #reiner braun x y/n #reiner braun x you #reiner braun x oc #reiner braun x reader #reiner x you #jean aot #aot x reader #aot x you #aot fanart #aot reader insert #aot reiner #aot x y/n #aot x gender neutral reader #shingeki no kyojin #jean x y/n

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[fullstcp]

"Midnights" by Taylor Swift Sentence Starters

LAVENDER HAZE

"Meet me at midnight."

"You don't ever say too much."

"You don't really read into my melancholia."

"I been under scrutiny."

"I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say."

"They're bringing up my history, but you weren't even listening."

"I just need this love spiral."

MAROON

"How'd we end up on the floor, anyway?"

"I see you every day now."

"And I chose you."

"How the hell did we lose sight of us again?"

"Sobbing with your head in your hands, ain't that the way shit always ends?"

"I feel you, no matter what."

"I wake with your memory over me."

"That's a real fucking legacy to leave."

ANTI-HERO

"I have this thing where I get older, but just never wiser."

"I should not be left to my own devices."

"I wake up screaming from dreaming."

"One day, I'll watch as you're leaving."

"I'm the problem, it's me."

"I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror."

"It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero."

SNOW ON THE BEACH

"Life is emotionally abusive."

"Time can't stop me quite like you did."

"I'm unglued, thanks to you."

"You wanting me tonight feels impossible."

"This scene feels like what I once saw on a screen."

"I've never seen someone lit from within."

"My smile is like I won a contest, and to hide that would be so dishonest."

"It's fine to fake it 'til you make it 'til you do, 'til it's true."

"I can't speak, afraid to jinx it."

"I don't even dare to wish it."

"Can this be a real thing? Can it?"

"Are we falling like snow at the beach?"

YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN, KID

"I play it cool with the best of them."

"I touch my phone as if it's your face."

"There's just one who could make me stay all my days."

"I waited ages to see you there."

"I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this."

"There were pages turned with the bridges burned."

"Everything you lose is a step you take."

"You've got no reason to be afraid."

MIDNIGHT RAIN

"I guess sometimes we all get just what we wanted."

"I guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted."

QUESTION...?

"I just may like some explanations."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight?"

"It was one drink after another."

"Does it feel like everything's just like second best after that meteor strike?"

VIGILANTE SHIT

"You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them."

"Sometimes I wonder which one'll be your last lie."

"They say looks can kill and I might try."

"I don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends."

"Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife."

BEJEWELED

"I think I've been a little too kind."

"I can still make the whole place shimmer."

"Familiarity breeds contempt."

"Don't put me in the basement when I want the penthouse of your heart."

"I think it's time to teach some lessons."

"And I miss you, but I miss sparkling."

"You can try to change my mind, but you might have to wait in line."

LABYRINTH

"It only hurts this much right now."

"Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out."

"I'll be getting over you my whole life."

"Uh-oh, I'm falling in love."

"Oh no, I'm falling in love again."

"I thought the plane was going down, how'd you turn it right around?"

"It only feels this raw right now."

"You would break your back to make me break a smile."

"You know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back, just like that."

KARMA

"You're talking shit for the hell of it."

"I keep my side of the street clean. You wouldn't know what I mean."

"Karma's a relaxing thought. Aren't you envious that for you it's not?"

SWEET NOTHING

"They say the end is coming."

"Everyone's up to something."

"I find myself running home to your sweet nothings."

"To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it."

MASTERMIND

"What if I told you none of it was accidental?"

"I laid the groundwork, and then, just like clockwork the dominoes cascaded in a line."

"If you fail to plan, you plan to fail."

"Strategy sets the scene for the tale."

"No one wanted to play with me as a little kid."

"I've been scheming like a criminal ever since."

"This is the first time I've felt the need to confess."

"I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian because I care."

THE GREAT WAR

"Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur."

"Diesel is desire, you were playing with fire."

"It turned into something bigger."

"Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed."

"That was the night I nearly lost you."

"I really thought I'd lost you."

"There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair."

"I will always be yours."

"I vow I will always be yours."

BIGGER THAN THE WHOLE SKY

"Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness."

"You were bigger than the whole sky."

"You were more than just a short time."

"It's all over, it's not meant to be."

PARIS

"Your ex-friend's sister met someone at a club and he kissed her."

"Did you see the photos?"

"I'm so in love that I might stop breathing."

"Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours."

"I wanna brainwash you into loving me forever."

HIGH INFIDELITY

"I didn't know you were keeping count."

"You said I was freeloading."

"I bent the truth too far tonight."

"Your picket fence is sharp as knives."

"You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love."

GLITCH

"We were supposed to be just friends."

"I think there's been a glitch."

"I was supposed to sweat you out."

"I thought we had no chance."

WOULD'VE, COULD'VE, SHOULD'VE

"If you would've blinked, then I would've looked away at the first glance."

"The God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven."

"Memories feel like weapons."

"You made me feel important and then you tried to erase us."

"You're a crisis of my faith."

"I miss who I used to be."

"I regret you all the time."

"I fight with you in my sleep."

"If clarity's in death, then why won't this die?"

DEAR READER

"If it feels like a trap, you're already in one.

"Get out your map. Pick somewhere and just run."

"If you don't recognize yourself, that means you did it right."

"Never take advice from someone who's falling apart."

"You don't have to answer just cause they asked you."

"The greatest of luxuries is your secrets."

"When you aim at the devil, make sure you don't miss."

"I prefer hiding in plain sight."

"You wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking."

"No one sees when you lose when you're playing solitaire."

"You should find another guiding light."

HITS DIFFERENT

"I washed my hands of us at the club."

"You made a mess of me."

"They say that if it's right, you know."

"Oh, my, love is a lie."

"Moving on was always easy for me to do."

"My sadness is contagious."

"You were the one that I loved."

"I don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough."

"This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy."

"You once believed in me."

YOU'RE LOSING ME

"We thought a cure would come through in time, now, I fear it won't."

"Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?"

"My heart won't start anymore for you."

"How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying?"

"My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick."

"I know my pain is such an imposition."

"You don't know what you got until it's gone."

"How long could we be a sad song?"

"I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy. And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier."

"I'm the best thing at this party."

"I wouldn't marry me either."

"Do something, babe, say something."

"Lose something, babe, risk something."

"I got nothing to believe, unless you're choosing me."

#rp memes #rp prompts #rp starters #rp lyric meme #lyric prompts #lyric starters #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay starters #not the old me. 2.0 me. no it's all of meme combined (ask meme) #when there was me and queue (queue)

[takashimakato]

I miss you

Fanfiction Based off art by (@bonithica-art )

Years had woven a heavy tapestry of loss and time since the world said goodbye to a Beatles' guitarist, an event that left an indelible mark on each member, casting shadows on their hearts. For Paul, the loss was a tempest of sorrow; John wasn't just a bandmate but a cherished friend whose absence was a void no melody could fill.

In a room saturated with memories and the echo of bygone days, Paul found himself in the company of Ringo and George, their faces etched with lines of years and experience, yet their spirits undiminished by the trials they'd weathered together.

As they sat, enveloped in a silence punctuated by the occasional sigh or distant laughter from outside, the air between them was heavy with contemplation. It had been a decade since "Let It Be" whispered its final note to the world, a period during which their lives had unfolded in directions as diverse as the songs they once created.

Yet, the bond that tethered them to each other, to the music, and to the Beatles' legacy was unbroken.

Paul, the weight of memories pressing on his shoulders, broke the silence first. "It's been a long road since 'Let It Be', hasn't it?" His voice, laden with reminiscence, filled the room, bridging the gap between past and present.

Ringo, with a reflective nod, replied, "Aye, it has. Didn't quite imagine our journey would take us here, through all this... silence without him." His gaze drifted, touching on the empty space where John's laughter once resonated, a somber acknowledgment of the void left behind.

George, leaning back, his eyes lost in thought, added, "Every chord, every melody... it's like he's still a part of it, you know? His spirit lingers in the music, in the spaces between our notes." There was a warmth in his voice, a tribute to the unbreakable connection they shared with John, even in absence.

The room, steeped in the legacy of their shared history, seemed to hold its breath, listening to the unspoken words hanging in the air. Paul sighed, a sound of resignation mixed with determination. "Do you ever think about it? About what John would say if he saw us now, thinking about... moving forward?"

Ringo's chuckle, soft and tinged with sadness, broke the solemn atmosphere. "He'd probably tell us to stop moping around, wouldn't he? Say something about how the show must go on, in his own cheeky way."

George smiled, the first genuine smile of the gathering, as he remembered their friend's indomitable spirit. "He'd want us to keep creating, keep playing... for him, for us, and for all those who found a piece of themselves in our music."

The conversation, once a meandering path through their shared sorrows, began to shift towards a future still uncertain yet filled with the possibility of homage and rebirth. "So," Paul ventured, his voice steadier now, "what if we did something? A concert, an album, something that says 'The Beatles' aren't just a memory. We're a legacy that's still alive, still bringing light to the darkness John left behind."

Ringo and George exchanged looks, the bond of years and shared dreams unspoken between them. "I think it's what he would have wanted," George finally said, his voice a gentle affirmation of their collective resolve.

Ringo, ever the pragmatist, nodded in agreement. "But we do it our way, on our terms. A tribute to John, to us, and to everyone who's ever sung along with us."

In that room, filled with the ghosts of yesterday and the whispers of tomorrow, Paul, Ringo, and George found themselves at the threshold of a new chapter.

A chapter that would honor the past while daring to step into the future, their spirits united in the music that had defined a generation and would continue to inspire those to come.

After a marathon session of reminiscences and what-ifs with Ringo and George, the clock hands aligned at midnight, compelling Paul to seek solace in the familiarity of Liverpool’s streets. The night was a canvas of shadows and streetlight glow, painting the city in hues of nostalgia and melancholy. He wandered aimlessly, each step leading him past haunts filled with echoes of laughter and melodies that he and John had once shared. The sharp sting of loss gripped him as he meandered through these memory-laden locales, each corner a reminder of a bond that was as much a part of Liverpool as the Mersey itself.

Compelled by a mix of sorrow and longing, Paul found his steps leading him to a familiar hill—a silent witness to countless hours spent in idle chatter and shared dreams under its sprawling sky. The ascent was a physical effort that mirrored the emotional climb he'd been enduring since John's passing. Reaching the summit, he collapsed onto the grass, the cityscape stretching below him—a tapestry of light and life that seemed distant from his solitary vigil. "I guess I am the fool on the hill," he whispered into the night, tears cascading freely, each drop a testament to the depth of his grief.

As the words left his lips, a familiar voice pierced the night. "I wouldn't say a fool, but you're definitely something on the hill..." John’s tone, playful and teasing, was unmistakable. The shock was palpable as Paul turned, his heart in his throat, to see John standing there, a spectral image bathed in moonlight. Their embrace was a collision of past and present, a moment so surreal yet achingly desired.

Breaking away, disbelief etched across Paul's features, he stammered, "How is this possible? You were dead..." The question hung in the air, heavy with the gravity of their reunion.

John’s response was a cheeky nod to their shared history. "What's that thing George said in that stupid cartoon movie we did?" A pause, a spark of recollection, and then together, their voices merged: "It's all in the mind." Laughter, genuine and freeing, followed, bridging the gap between reality and whatever magic had allowed this moment.

Paul, encouraged by the presence of his friend, sat down, a silent invitation for John to join him. They looked out over Liverpool, the city that had birthed their dreams, now a canvas of twinkling lights and shadowed streets. Despite the joy of the moment, a shadow of sadness tugged at Paul's heart, a whispering reminder of the impossibility of this encounter.

Surrendering to the moment, Paul wrapped an arm around John, their gaze shared across the cityscape. John leaned in, his head resting on Paul's shoulder, a gesture of comfort and camaraderie. In this suspended slice of time, Paul allowed himself the fantasy, the warmth of John's presence a balm against the sharp edges of his grief.

As the night deepened, the city below them a silent witness, two friends sat together on the hill, united by memories, music, and an unbreakable bond that not even death could sever. The fool on the hill and his spectral companion, together in silence, a poignant reminder of what was and what could never be again.

"Sorry I never told you before but.., I love you man.." Paul says, he didn't get a response that made him look over to see John gone.. he smiled before shedding a tear.

Under the vast, star-streaked sky, the moment stretched thin, a fragile bridge spanning the gap between reality and yearning. Paul's voice, barely above a whisper, carried the weight of unsaid words and unspent grief into the night. "Sorry I never told you before but.., I love you, man." The silence that followed was profound, dense with all the words that had gone unspoken over the years, filled with all the music they'd never get to create together again.

When no response came, a soft confusion brushed Paul's heart, prompting him to turn, seeking John's familiar face. But the space beside him was empty, the comforting presence vanished like mist at dawn. The realization, both sweet and sorrowful, dawned on him then; it had been a momentary reprieve, a fleeting communion with the friend he missed so deeply.

A smile, tinged with both gratitude and sadness, found its way across Paul's face as a single tear traced a path down his cheek. It was a smile born of cherished memories, of love spoken too late yet no less sincere, a smile that spoke of understanding the ephemeral nature of their hilltop reunion. The city below continued its nocturnal symphony, unaware of the tender epilogue unfolding in its midst.

As the tear fell, mingling with the grass of the hill that had borne witness to their bond, Paul felt a gentle release. The night, with its velvet embrace, seemed to acknowledge his farewell, his tribute not just to John, but to a chapter of life that had forever altered its course. He stood, the city lights a mosaic of life continuing beneath him, and took a deep breath of the cool night air. It was time to carry forward the legacy of their friendship, the music, and the love that had defined them, in his heart and in his melodies. The fool on the hill had spoken his truth, and in doing so, found a measure of peace under the watchful gaze of the stars.

#john lennon #paul mccartney #the beatles #beatles fanfiction #george harrison #richard starkey #ringo starr

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Disguise • Headache • </c0de> • Thoughts & Prayers • Legacy • Undead Ahead 2: The Tale of the Midnight Ride • Holding On To Smoke • Another Life • Broadcasting From Beyond the Grave: Death Inc. • Brand New Numb • Catharsis

Spotify ♪ YouTube

#hyltta-polls #polls #artist: motionless in white #language: english #decade: 2010s #Alternative Metal #Nu Metal #Industrial Metal #Metalcore #Gothic Metal

[liviusofpella]

part two: the lights of new york

Pairing: Tyril x m!OC (Jude St. Clair)

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow; modern au!

Word count: 4600

Rating: T

Warnings: cursing, mention of alcohol, mention of drugs 

Category: short-series, modern au

A/n: here's an insight into Jude's life, you're free to hate me for what I did

Tag list: @cashweasel @starlight-starfury @lilyoffandoms @lazypartridge @watatsumi-island @sophie-summer @brycesgirl @choicesficwriterscreations

pinterest boards: Tyril | Jude | Tyril x Jude

playlist: there's a change! »here's« a new one for those who're interested

Tuesday

afterhours. 

Numb, exhausted, and terribly cold, Jude sat sprawled on a particularly uncomfortable red leather couch with his eyes glued to the massive neon sign with the club’s name. afterhours. Accurate, he thought. It used to be his favourite spot in Manhattan whenever he visited the States as a teenager. Always surrounded by a group of attention seeking leechers, people vying for his attention, buying him drinks, offering drugs, or even themselves. Unfortunately, this was Jude's reputation—opiate enthusiast, ladykiller, family's black sheep. The name St. Clair meant influence. It was enough to be photographed next to him once, and one could be catapulted into stardom, fleeting but enough for a start of a career. 

Jude closed his eyes for a few seconds, feeling the familiar burning sensation and tears forming under his eyelids. 

Woozy, overstimulated, drunk, on drugs. Pathetic. Someone offered to change location, saying it’s well past midnight. He felt a nudge on his arm but waved them off, and soon he was left alone in their lounge, with a dirty table full of empty glasses and white powder remains. He stared at his phone for a long time before finding the strength to pick it up and search for the right number. 

Drugs didn’t give him the desired effect any more, at least not to the desired degree. Jude yawned and allowed the tears to roll down his cheeks, hoping they would ease the burning sensation. 

“Please, pick me up,” Jude cried into the phone ten minutes later, 

That night, after eighteen months under strong encouragement of his company, his strong will broke, and he joined his posse in what they liked to call “happy-pill-sharing,” and then continued to fill his stomach with rum based cocktails. By the time he called James, he was barely conscious.

Wednesday

The perks of being born into a family of multimillionaires include: being spoiled rotten, having the access to the best of everything, and, as in Julian St. Clair’s case, unlimited access to high quality drugs. Growing up, he had everything his little heart desired as well as the best schools, tutors, and healthcare. Léa St. Clair, Jude’s mother, despite having spent hundreds of hours on reading parenting books, made a cardinal mistake in raising her long-awaited, prayed for child—she treated him as her best friend rather than a son. Having failed with her first two sons, she was desperate to have at least one worthy heir to the family’s legacy, but as it turned out, the young St. Clair had always been somewhat rebellious, always pushing the limits of the law and people’s patience with him. The moment Léa realized her mistake, Jude was already fifteen, and she just ended the call with the school principal, who claimed her son was found on the school property while partaking in sexual activities with another student. Forty minutes later, her heart sank even deeper when she learned the student was Vena Starfury’s son. She remembered vividly the poorly hidden smirk of the principal when he said Julian was under the influence of drugs—he knew the school budget was about to be very generously aided.

That evening, Léa raised a hand at her son for the first time, giving vent to her emotions; it was an event that Jude will forever wear painted on his face as his mother’s expensive rings left a scar on his cheekbone. Later that afternoon along with her husband, Léa announced that Julian will transfer to London where his rather strict and conservative aunt, Léa’s sister, would take care of him. She pinned her hopes in Elisabeth to smarten up her son. However, it soon emerged that Julian was on a slippery slope and way too far to be helped in ways that didn’t involve incapacitation.  

James sighed heavily before splashing his tired face with cold water. Looking at himself in the mirror, he thought how little has changed since Jude and him were in high school and most of their nights looked exactly like this—Jude mixing drugs with alcohol, drowning his emotions in vodka, fooling around with that Starfury guy, and him helping him sneak back into the fortress of a home or letting him crash on his sofa. Almost unwillingly, his hand opened the cabinet above the sink, his eyes following his own reflection in the mirror, trying to delay the moment of looking inside. Dicodid, Vicodin, Exalgo, Percodan. James scanned the etiquettes, cursing in his mind. The exact same starter pack as the one they used back in the days when they would go clubbing almost every night in London.   

“What the fuck are you doing with your life, Jules?”

Having closed the cabinet, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, wondering whether it’s loathing or pity he felt for himself. Whichever one of those options it was, he also felt compassion for his friend. James understood how difficult it was to get out of addiction, at least the one that started as a way to relax and become a member of London’s elite clubbing “boy club.” The requirements were rather simple: be rich, attend Cambridge, be ready to party hard. Now that he thought of it he felt resentment, but back in the day, being accepted into the group was Julian and his most important task. That’s where Jude gained his popularity, being labelled as the “pretty, sad boy” - a title that was not too far from the truth. Unlike James, Julian fell into the trap of addiction easily, since he was used to taking abnormal amounts of pain relievers since he was sixteen. 

James was known as the one responsible for the break-up of the group after a year of joining - praised by many for that decision but critiqued by even more. He was able to quit drugs easily, but as it soon turned out, Julian needed the intervention of professionals. 

He shook his head. It was definitely loathing.

“We need to have you up and running by the evening, Jules, so please try to get your shit together.”

Jude looked about the spacious venue, smiling to himself at the overwhelming amounts of white marble, long, white candles, and his family’s favourite Juliet Roses crowded in multiple massive, ceramic planters. His mother certainly knew how to project an image of an elegant, influential, wealthy family. 

His gaze focused on the familiar piano player until his mother blocked the view.

“Julian, I need you to behave tonight, this is an important event.”

He sighed heavily. “I’m a big boy, mom.”

“You tend to forget that,” she concluded curtly, and straightened his tie. “Find Adira, socialize with her. It’s good press.”

Jude rolled his eyes in response but agreed reluctantly. Soon, his brothers joined him.

“How do you like the set-up, Jay?”

James wrapped an arm around his neck and reached for a champagne flute carried by a passing-by waitress. 

“I love our family reunions, there's always so much drama,” Jude chattered, swirling his wine glass, jaded. 

"You are the cause of all the drama," Pierre rolled his eyes.

James snickered. "Attention-whore."

"Please don't mess it up at least once? It's important for dad," the oldest St. Clair continued, staring his brother down. Jude shrugged.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. It's not like I was going to make out with Adira on the dance floor or something."

"Don't complain, Jules,” James chipped in. “You can say what you want about mom, but she has your type down pat—tall, skinny, rich, and pretty fucking annoying," he teased.

"Only if she had a dick."

Pierre groaned. "Oh my god, just shut. You," Pierre pointed at James. "No stupid, suggestive comments, and you," his finger slid towards Jude. "Just don't be yourself. Sit still and look pretty."

"Aye."

“And grow the fuck up, it’s high time.”

After spending about half an hour with Pierre and James, Jude went on the prowl for his mother’s choice of a perfect daughter-in-law, that is Jude’s wife. It didn’t matter much that he refused ten years ago to form any kind of relationship with Adira, and he didn’t change his mind, Léa invited her to all important events just so the two of them would be seen in one room. Adira was something of a damage control after all of Julian’s excesses.

"I was a good boy all night, mom!"

"Julian, stop this tomfoolery. Grandma Eloise said that the injury reared its head."

"The pain is never gone. It just so happens to increase in intensity when I'm in this house," he shrugged nonchalantly. "Must be a trauma response after kicking me out or something."

Léa clenched her fists. "I don't need the press to focus on your foolish injury, Julian," she said curtly and handed him a key. "You know where to go. Don't make us look bad."

For a short second, he looked into his mother's cold eyes, desperately searching for the crumbs of motherly affection and care, yet was met with icy indifference. Don't make us look bad. He smiled contemptuously. That's not what she'd say to his brothers, no. Pierre and James heard, “I'm proud of you.” Sometimes “Make us proud.” Julian watched his mother's lean back disappear behind the mahogany door, and he cursed. You know where. 

It was almost 11. He rubbed his tired eyes and fighting the urge to stay there and go to sleep, Jude got up, feeling woozy and slightly unsteady on his feet, and made his way back to the party. Appearing, seemingly, out of the blue, Pierre nudged his shoulder. 

"The hell've you been?"

Jude looked at his tipsy oldest brother, and smiled. "Cig break," he nodded towards their father, who was revising his speech hastily. "Nils’ looking dapper as fuck, you think he's gonna announce his retirement?"

"I don't think he'd need that many cameras for that. It's something bigger."

James cursed under his breath, seeing the state his brothers were in. He took a place next to them by one of the few tables where there was any food left and helped himself to one of the last Gruyère and Crab palmiers. "This party is going fantastically. Dad's side chick is one of the guests, mother is murdering him with her stare, Pierre's tipsy and Jules' high. A strong family with values."

Julian ignored his remark. "What's the big announcement, smart ass?"

“No clue. I’m surprised he actually didn’t tell us.”

Jude rubbed his burning eyelids and crossed his arms on his chest, watching his father stoically deliver his well-rehearsed speech. He had trouble focusing on his words, though, having suddenly felt a bit nauseous.

He reached for the last full champagne flute.

"Our company has been very vocal about starting the research on that matter and finding the ultimate cure; however, that journey proved not only difficult but also incredibly expensive. We considered putting the research on hold, but old friends and business partners offered to aid us in this noble cause. One of the main sponsors will be Valir and Vena Starfury…"

Jude choked on the champagne he'd been drinking, causing several heads to turn in his direction. He turned around, coughing as silently as possible, dying inside, while James and Pierre covering him with their bodies.

"Jules, you’re causing drama."

Taking several feel breaths and wiping the tears off his cheeks, he finally retook his place, facing his father, who was thanking the family’s “old friends and generous benefactors.” 

"What a circus," James sighed. "Are we really so broke we have to partner with them?"

"It's good PR," Pierre hid his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I suppose.” 

“How does it feel to see your nemeses again?”

Jude shrugged, watching Tyril’s parents intently. Vena still looked like a ghost, wearing a red, long, elegant dress, her thin arms wrapped around her husband’s. “I was at their party last week.”

“And you’re still in one piece?”

“I’m afraid Tyril isn’t, he hasn’t returned any of my calls since then.”

James eyed Vena inquiringly. “She does look like she’s grieving.”

“That’s just her face,” Pierre mumbled and took a seat, the exhaustion and alcohol finally catching up with his mind. “Let’s just hope this announcement means the party’s ending.” 

Nils rubbed his tired eyes, thankful that the party had come to an end. Social events were his wife’s forte, he was more than happy to be an arm candy. 

He eyed his youngest son up. "It's mutually beneficial. No stupid shenanigans," he pointed a finger at him. 

"Too late for that," Jude smirked to himself, before he thought of what he'd just said. 

"Julian, God as my witness, I will disown you if you're involved with that boy again."

He rolled his eyes theatrically, hoping nobody could sense his fear. "I meant Adira, chill, dad. We were making out on the terrace and a reporter caught us when we were about to—"

"Spare me the details," he cut him off curtly. "I warn you, Julian."

"Fine, I promise not to suck off the one that shall not be named in this house's dick, daddy. You might wanna take up with mom the drug distribution, though," he put the key on the table. "The disappointment is leaving the premises, see you when you need good press," he said with tongue in cheek. With his back towards his family, he sent them a peace sign before the door closed. He sighed with relief.

Thursday

The longed-for six in the afternoon approached and the sea of sweaty students flooded out of the field into the locker room, loudly discussing their plans for the weekend, making plans to hang out, talking about the English test. As always, Tyril sat down on the bench, waiting patiently for everyone else to leave, so he can take a quick shower and go home. The room emptied after more or less twenty minutes, therefore, he hung the towel over his shoulder and reached for the bag with toiletries when he heard shuffling. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Tyril's brows furrowed upon hearing the stream of swear words and despite his initial instinct to leave and not get caught up in other people's business, his legs were already leading him towards the last row of brand-new red, metal lockers. Seconds later, his eyes came across a tall, lean kid, clutching his right hand. 

His mouth produced a sentence before he could stop himself. "Do you need help?" 

Startled, the boy staggered back, hitting the locker's door with his elbow, which resulted in another wave of curses hitting Tyril's ears. Only then, he noticed blood dripping from the hand his companion was clutching.

"Get lost and don't even think of calling anyone," the blonde responded, wrapping the hand in the white shirt he took off his back. Not convincing enough to make Tyril leave, though. 

"You've left a trail of blood in your way, I don't need to tell anyone for them to notice."

“Shit,” the stranger concluded, realizing Tyril was right. He ruffled his already messy hair with the healthy hand and sighed loudly, trying to come up with a plan of how to get home without making any more mess and avoiding getting unwanted help. His eyes landed on Tyril, who stood astride with his hands crossed on his chest. “It’s fine, go back to what you were doing.”

“What did you even do?”

“Let it go.”

“Would you let it go if someone needed help?”

The boy gave Tyril an angry look. Making sure the stranger wouldn't run away, Tyril excused himself for a moment—in the meantime, Julian stepped back into the shower room and began cleaning up the mess hastily, not paying attention to the damage he was making. In a twisted, way the glass shards cutting through his skin felt almost pleasant, deserved, a feeling that was an old friend returning after a long separation. He threw the shards into the nearest bin and ripped several paper towels to wipe the blood off the white tiles when he heard a voice behind himself.

"I brought alcohol wipes and a bandage if you're still interested," Tyril said mockingly and immediately bit his tongue. 

"I'm Julian, by the way," the blonde spoke up. Tyril opened his mouth to introduce himself, but Julian intercepted him. "You're the Starfury kid, I know you. Your folks funded the library."

Slightly embarrassed and suddenly shy, Tyril didn’t look up from the cut. A few drops of blood fell onto his trousers.

“Shit, sorry,” Julian mumbled. “I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

“No need. There, it should be fine until you get home,” Tyril responded, having tied up the bandage and looked up at his companion, only now realizing how scrutinisingly he’d been watched all this time.  

"Thanks, nurse. I guess you’re not as much of a stuck-up dick as they say.”

“Great, just what we needed,” James mumbled, seeing a tall figure enter the spacious living room. The man quickly made his way towards the open terrace door, wondering who was Jude’s guest. The second he stepped outside, he sneered.

“I’ve been calling you all week,” Tyril addressed his half-naked boyfriend who, pretending not to hear, continued to smoke his cigarette, watching the New York’s skyline. “Jude.”

“He’s completely fucked up—"

"I can see that, but what, pray tell, are you doing here?"

"Playing your boyfriend's sitter again while the two of you keep sneaking around to fuck in the closet. Where the hell've you been all week?"

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Tyril let out a tired sigh. James was one of his least-favourite people in the world. "Stop acting like you're doing me a favour, James, because we both know you're here only to make yourself feel better."

"Yet I'm still here while you've been cosying up to your ex fiancée— or was it that stray you fucked in seven different states?"

"What the fuck is your problem, James?"

"I'm tired of fixing him once you're done playing his boyfriend! Look at him! Are you proud of what you're doing to him? Take a good look, Ty, ‘cause I don't think the last time taught you anything."

"Just shut the fuck up, both of you," Jude scolded them, rubbing his eyes and finally turning around to face the fighting men. "Just shut up. I’m fine."

Having put out his cigarette, he approached Tyril and placed a short kiss on his lips, then made his way towards the kitchen. 

James shook his head. "You two bring out the worst in each other."

“Weren't you the one who partied with him for years?”

“I was also the one who took him to rehab, dickhead.”

“How noble of you to fix what you’ve broken.”

“Oh, piss off. Since you’re here, I’m heading home.”

“You’re high,” Tyril stated as he looked into his boyfriend’s dilated pupils. Jude’s eyes fogged for yet another time that night, and he had to avert his gaze. “Why?”

Jude shrugged. “Rough week, I guess?”

“Julian, don’t play dumb.”

“Then don't ask stupid questions.”

Tyril’s jaw tightened. “Alright, I have a better question—what happened back then in the locker room? What the hell did you do?”

“Oh fucking—, you just won’t drop it, will you?” Jude laughed, desperately, while his fingers tugged at the ends of his ruffled hair. Tyril noticed how his body trembled and wondered whether it’s caused by the drugs or the emotions. “I smashed the mirror with my hand! Does that answer satisfy you?! I got into an argument with my mother over the phone, and she pissed me off to such a degree,” his voice echoed within the empty halls. “I ruptured a nerve. It was sawn back together, but the damage was done,” he added quietly after a moment of silence. “The nerve is damaged, irreparable, and that shit hurts, Ty. Becoming addicted to opioids is a matter of time.”

Jude sprawled on the sofa, having suddenly felt dizzy and overwhelmed by the emotions. Tyril observed him, recollecting the memory of that day.

“Wouldn’t rupturing a nerve hurt much more?”

Praying in his mind that Jude won’t take that question as offence, Tyril slumped against the nearest wall with his back. It was too late for an argument, and Jude was already exasperated enough.

“Yeah, well, I made sure shit’ll stain when you left.”

“Can I see?”

Silence. Jude watched him for a while, silently, and Tyril was about to apologize for asking when his boyfriend agreed. When he took Julian’s arm in his hands, the first thing he noticed was a vertical scar, straight and pale, about ten centimetres long with barely perceptible tiny dots on each side. “It’s impossible not to notice, so how the hell did I manage to do that?”

“To be fair, I do a decent job in hiding it.”

Stupid. Tyril felt like an idiot, and, to crown it all, a selfish one. He really did only care about himself and noticed only what he wanted to. 

Focusing his gaze on the open balcony door which let in the chilly wind, he desperately leafed through his memory, trying to find at least one connected to that incident which he might have ignored, but to no avail. 

“Does your hand always twitch like this?”

“Yes, but usually not as hard.”

“Is that why you got addicted in the first place?”

Jude nodded. They sat in silence for a while, slightly shivering, Jude from the drugs, Tyril from the cold, pondering over what just happened. Tyril felt guilty. Maybe if he had found the time to see him, this wouldn't happen. Maybe if they hadn’t met, Jude’s life would be much better. Jude wondered if he did the right thing by telling Tyril the truth, knowing that he’d feel guilty, but he quickly cast that thought aside when he felt a wave of exhaustion wash all over him. 

“I won’t go back into rehab, Ty,” he mumbled indistinctly. Tyril watched him until he fell asleep on the sofa and covered him with a blanket.

Despite the exhaustion, Tyril did not get a wink of sleep that night, too anxious that his boyfriend would choke on his own vomit. Feeling helpless, he called the only person who could actually help. Adeline appeared at Jude’s doorstep minutes before six in the morning with two paper shopping bags filled to the brim.

"You have one hell of a nerve to ask for my help.”

"Why are you here, then?"

"I still have some respect left for Julian," she said, looking at his half-naked, unconscious body. "Unlike himself."

"Did you buy—"

"Of course I did, drop the stupid questions," she grunted, and made her way to the kitchen where she began unpacking the bags. "Take him to bed, we'll start tomorrow. He’ll probably wake up by the evening, make sure he eats, drinks a lot of water, and does not go to another party."

Tyril nodded, watching her gracious movements for a few more seconds before taking his boyfriends body into his arms and making his way towards the bedroom. Once his pale body was tucked in, Tyril pressed his lips to Jude’s temple.

"Stay," Jude mumbled, faintly catching his boyfriend's hand. Tyril crouched next to the bed and placed a kiss on his hand, waiting for him to fall back asleep.

"Why did you let him fall back like that, moron?" Adeline punched her exfiancé’s arm once he got close enough. She was furious. "How could you let that happen, knowing that we have done this before and that he was in rehab?!"

"Adeline, I'm not his guardian! We couldn't meet this week and—"

"Always excuses. You're never guilty."

"That's not true and you know that. During our relationship, I always took the blame."

"Not always, just when you were wrong, which happened most of the time," she mocked and resumed putting the groceries away. "You don't deserve good people in your life. It's truly a mystery to me how you get them. You destroy everyone."

He clenched his fists. "What do you mean?"

Adeline eyed him for a while in silence. Her action was disturbed by the fridge reminder to close the door. "Julian never hid that what pushed him towards his infamous drug-spree and joining that stupid club in London was your breakup. You cut him off, even though you had every possibility to keep in touch. Then, after many years of relationship, you basically left me at the altar to run away with a random whore. And what about her? Why aren't you with her, since she was so important to you? Did you manage to destroy her as well in a week?"

He crossed his arms, his eyes dropping to the floor. "Selene was already destroyed."

"And you left her."

"No, she left me "

"Serves you right."

"God, can you stop already? I get it, I hurt you, and I'm sorry—"

"That's the thing, Tyril,” she cut him off. “You think you're sorry, but you don't understand how it works. You're sorry about the consequences of your actions, not about the actions themselves. You keep making the same mistakes, hurting people in the exact same way, and you're offended they take that damn offence!"

“Adeline, I don’t want to fight,” he sighed, tiredly.

“Good, you’re in no position to argue with what I’ve just said. I’m not interested in your excuses.”

Friday

Back to the old ways? St. Clair & entourage cruising NY’s nightclubs  

St. Clair: loved-up and simper in Manhattan’s Fleur Room

Adeline sighed, reading the headlines of two of the most popular gossip magazines. Jude, very much unlike Tyril, enjoyed his status of a celebrity. It was an easy way of getting whatever and wherever he wanted, especially when drugs were involved. Interviews, photoshoots, and his blossoming music career, kept him entertained. This was the exact reason for the first rumours.

Someone noticed that where Jude was, Tyril was as well. Tyril accompanied his boyfriend to photoshoots, to interviews, to parties. When asked about it, he’d just laugh it off but never denied, which only fuelled the rumours. 

Adeline put his phone away and smiled at Jude, who’d just woken up and took a seat next to him on the bar stool.

"How are we feeling today, Julian?"

"Weak as a baby, and I'm certain my head will explode any minute, thanks for asking! How are you?"

"No vomiting?"

"Not now—I’ve prayed to the porcelain god all night."

Adeline's brows slightly furrowed. "Where's Tyril?"

"Making up for lost sleep. He stayed up all night with me, probably making sure I didn't choke on my own puke and die and end this circus and—"

"Stop talking," she cut him off, demandingly, and placed a glass of water and a handful of vitamins and supplements next to his face. "Tyril and I wouldn't be here if we didn't care about you. We're here to help you get better, but if you stop cooperating, I will drag you to the nearest rehab by your hair."

"Okay, fine! Take it easy, girl." 

He swallowed the pills obediently, winking at Adeline, trying to defuse the tension hanging in the air. They both knew the worst was still before them. They’ve been there before. They knew the messy part was yet to come.

In the meantime, though, they smiled at each other softly. “Thanks for helping, Addy.”

#yeah its been a while.... #tyril starfury #tyril x oc #tyril x jude #oc: jude st clair #choices tyril #blades of light and shadow #choices blades #choices bolas #choices stories you play #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc #its late so im not proofreading anymore enjoy my typos<3

[fireflymoonwitch]

Conflicted Feelings

Fay keeps wanting to break up with Amerite... but as soon as she talks to her, she wants to go on a date with her. Emotions are confusing!

So Fay has had the Want to break up with Amerite a few times now. Normally I like to give my sims agency, but I think this is less about their relationship and more to do with Fay’s Single and Lovin’ It lifestyle. You know, the one that all Sims get unless they literally jump into a relationship as soon as you plop them in a neighborhood... Like, calm down game. I like to find someone my sim is attracted to and vibes with instead of just throwing them into a relationship with a random, that doesn’t mean they want to be single forever.

I know the Sims is meant to be zany, but I find the lifestyles too intense a lot of the time. I like the idea in principle, but there’s no nuance to them.

So, for now, I plan on waiting it out until Fay loses the Single lifestyle. If the Want persists after that, I’ll let her act on it.

Midnight Familiar Legacy: First / Previous / Next

#ts4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #berry sweet sims #ts4 berry sims #midnight familiar legacy #ts4 gameplay #ts4 gameplay challenge #ts4 screenshots #the sims screenshots #fay midnight #ts4 fairy #ts4 occult #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #simblog #ts4 #ts4 simblr #amerite nebula

[heckcareoxytwit]

A preview of Vengeance of the Moon Knight #1

VENGEANCE OF THE MOON KNIGHT #1

Clad in the black of mourning, the Midnight Mission remains! But who is left to keep the faith? And how have they been changed by the Black Spectre’s master stroke? The next chapter of MOON KNIGHT starts here as the congregants of the Midnight Mission pick up the pieces and carry on the mission…and find themselves faced with a mysterious new enemy in eerily familiar vestments.

LEGACY #231

Written by: Jed MacKay Art by: Alessandro Cappuccio, Rachelle Rosenberg Cover by: David Finch Page Count: 40 Pages Release Date: January 3, 2024

#Reese #Tigra #Greer Nelson #8 Ball #8Ball #Jeff Hagees #Hunter's Moon #Yehya Badr #Soldier #Midnight Mission #Thing #the Thing #Ben Grimm #benjamin grimm #Fantastic Four #the fantastic four #Hawkeye #Clint Barton #Mockingbird #Bobbi Morse #Captain America #Steve Rogers #Avengers #the avengers #Doctor Strange #Dr Strange #Stephen Strange #Clea #Clea Strange #marvel preview

[adrianasunderworld]

The White Ash Midnight Ball: event concept.

I've mentioned before in some of my White Ash post about this thing called the Midnight Ball. It's an annual joint ball between WAI, NRC, and RSA. It's meant to honor part of the legacy of White Ashes founder, the fairy godmother, and her most famous achievement: turning a scullery maid into a princess. In the spirit of Cinderella, the big thing about the Midnight Ball is to not know who your dance partners are. Just as she did not know the identity of the prince. And what better way to ensure that than a masquerade? The ballroom is enchanted so you can't actually take off your mask until the stroke of twelve when it ends, then you may choose to reveal yourself or keep the mystery alive. The ball is held during the spring the night before students leave for spring break. It's something fun to send them off home in high spirits.

The SR card backgrounds would look like the ball scene from Cinderella. With all these dreamy soft colors.

The gist of how this would play is that it's a twistune event. That you would play while people are dancing. As for the plot, the gist of it is that the ball is coming up, and the schools each send a couple students to form the planning committee. Yuu, of course, gets roped into it as one of NRCs representatives. Along with Silver. White Ash is the one who typically hosts it, so a magic carriage is sent to pick up the students at the other schools and Yuu and Silver are whisked away to WAI for the committee meeting. There Yuu meets the students who are also on planning duty and among them is a girl named Phillipa. Phillipa and Silver know each other from equestrian tournaments and Yuu is often tagging along with them.

Like in the Wish Upon a Star event, we see other characters and what they are doing in preparation for the event. Like other committee members talking about their jobs. Along with students from the other schools talking about their plans. Are they meeting friends? Have they picked out their mask? Etc. At some point Phillipa excitedly talks about the dress she bought, the only detail she gave  was that it was a striking red. Afterwards Yuu and Silver get pulled into impromptu waltzing lessons by WAI etiquette teacher, Professor Adelaide, and her daughter Marina. Insert twistune here. 

Eventually the ball comes and students are whisked away to White Ash in pumpkin carriages in their masquerade looks. While there, Silver comments that he can't find Phillipa anywhere in the sea of masked people, and the beginning of his drowsiness was not helpful. Silver falls asleep in a corner of the ballroom, and Yuu meets a girl in a red ball gown and owl mask. Something about her seems familiar, but she vanishes into the crowd. Switch to Silvers pov, he wakes up to that same girl asking him if he's okay. Silver replies that he's fine and to not worry. He and girl strike up a conversation and at some point she asks him to dance. Not wanting to be rude, he agrees and decides to look for the others after. The girl hangs out with them for the rest of the night. Silver wonders where Phillipa is, and the girl merely says she’s fine and enjoying herself. Yuu’s dialogue options imply they know the girls identity, but Silver doesn’t catch on.

As Midnight is drawing close and so does the ball, the girl ask Silver for one last dance and he goes along. At the stroke of midnight, the song ends. Everyone is cheering, people unmasking or running off in laughter. As Silver looks around at the chaos, he turns back to his partner, only to find that she’s gone, leaving only her mask behind.

#twisted wonderland #the white ash institute #twst yuu #twst oc #night raven college #twst silver #cinderella #i say this only as a princess lover #we need a Cinderella event lol

[spacejams]

midnights (3 am) ask prompts

this masterlist of prompts was created as part of the rph server's 2022 gift exchange for @caffeinatedresources / @elitemikaelsonheiressqueen !

lavender haze

"meet me at midnight."

"all this shit is new to me."

"the only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife."

maroon

"how'd we end up on the floor, anyway?"

"and i chose you."

"how the hell did we lose sight of us again?"

"that's a real fucking legacy to leave."

anti-hero

"i get older, but just never wiser."

"i should not be left to my own devices."

"tale as old as time."

"you got tired of my scheming."

"it's me, hi."

"i'm the problem."

"it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero."

"sometimes, i feel like everybody is a sexy baby."

"i have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money."

"she thinks i left them in the will."

"she's laughing up at us from hell."

snow on the beach

"i saw flecks of what could've been lights."

"it might just have been you, passing by."

"life is emotionally abusive."

"and my flight was awful, thanks for asking."

"i'm unglued, thanks to you."

"weird, but fuckin' beautiful."

"tonight feels impossible."

"to hide that would be so dishonest."

"it's fine to fake it 'til you make it."

"i don't even dare to wish it."

"can this be a real thing?"

you're on your own, kid

"i play it cool with the best of them."

"he's gonna notice me."

"it's okay, we're the best of friends."

"i hear it in your voice."

"i didn't choose this town."

"i waited ages to see you there."

"you're on your own, kid. you always have been."

"i gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this."

"you've got no reason to be afraid."

question

"big city, wrong choices."

"fuckin' situations, circumstances, miscommunications."

"can i ask you a question?"

"do you wish you could still touch her?"

"it's just a question."

"what's that that i heard? that you're still with her?"

"that's nice, i'm sure that's what's suitable."

bejeweled

"i think i've been a little too kind."

"putting someone first only works when you're in their top five."

"by the way, i'm going out tonight."

"familiarity breeds contempt."

"baby boy, i think i've been too good of a girl."

"i think it's time to teach some lessons."

labyrinth

"it only hurts this much right now."

"i'll be getting over you my whole life."

"you know how scared i am of elevators."

"you know how much i hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back."

karma

"you're talking shit for the hell of it"

"karma's a relaxing thought."

"ask me what I learned from all those years."

"ask me why so many fade, but i'm still here."

sweet nothing

"they said the end is coming."

"everyone's up to something."

"i found myself running home to your sweet nothings."

"all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing."

"on the way home, i wrote a poem."

"i'm just too soft for all of it."

mastermind

"what if i told you none of it was accidental?"

"what if i told you i'm a mastermind?"

"all the wisest women had to do it this way."

"if you fail to plan, you plan to fail."

"no one wanted to play with me as a little kid."

"this this the first time i've felt the need to confess."

"i'm only cryptic and Machiavellian 'cause I care."

"you knew that i'm a mastermind."

bigger than the whole sky

"'cause it's all over now, all out to sea."

"you were more than just a short time."

"i've got a lot to pine about."

"i've got a lot to live without."

paris

"your ex-friend's sister met someone at a club, and he kissed her."

"turns out it was that guy you hooked up with ages ago."

"all the outfits were terrible."

"did you see the photos?"

"i'm so in love that i might stop breathing."

high infidelity

"i didn't know you were keeping count."

"do you really want to know where I was april 29th?"

"seemed like the right thing at the time."

glitch

"we were supposed to be just friends."

"you don't live in my part of town, but maybe i'll see you out some weekend."

would've, could've, should've

"if you would've blinked then i would've looked away at the first glance."

"and i damn sure never would've danced with the devil."

"now that i'm grown, i'm scared of ghosts."

"now that i know, i wish you'd left me wondering."

"but, lord, you made me feel important."

"you tried to erase us."

"you're a crisis of my faith."

"i miss who i used to be."

"i regret you all the time."

"i keep on waiting for a sign."

"I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep."

#rphservergifts #ask prompts #midnights ask prompts #ask prompt #lyrics prompts #ask memes #ask meme #long post

[katesmemes]

feel free to change any pronouns, etc. || may contain some nsfw!  

LAVENDER HAZE

meet me at midnight

oh, you don't ever say too much

i've been under scrutiny

all this shit is new to me

i'm damned if i do give a damn what people say

all they keep asking me is if i'm gonna be your bride

the only kinda girl they see is a one-night or a wife

they're bringing up my history, but you weren't even listening

get it off your chest

i just wanna stay

MAROON

how'd we end up on the floor anyway?

how the hell did we lose sight of us again?

ain't that the way shit always ends

i feel you, no matter what

and i wake with your memory over me

that's a real fuckin' legacy to leave

ANTI-HERO

i have this thing where I get older, but just never wiser

midnights become my afternoons

i should not be left to my own devices

one day I'll watch as you're leaving ‘cause you got tired of my scheming for the last time

i'm the problem, it's me

i'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror

it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

sometimes i feel like everybody is a sexy baby and i'm a monster on the hill

did you hear my covert narcissism i disguise as altruism like some kind of congressman?

i have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money

she's laughing up at us from hell!

SNOW ON THE BEACH

life is emotionally abusive

time can't stop me quite like you did

i'm unglued, thanks to you

you wanting me tonight feels impossible

it's fine to fake it till you make it

can this be a real thing, can it?

YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN, KID

i play it cool with the best of them

it's okay, we're the best of friends

i touch my phone as if it's your face

there's just one who could make me stay all my days

i waited ages to see you there

you're on your own, kid; you always have been

i picked the petals, he loves me not

i called a taxi to take me there

everything you lose is a step you take

you've got no reason to be afraid

MIDNIGHT RAIN

i wanted that pain

all of me changed

i broke his heart 'cause he was nice

i guess sometimes we all get just what we wanted

he never thinks of me

i guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted

i never think of him except on midnights like this

QUESTION...?

i swear that it was something

i don't remember who i was before you

i just may like some explanations

can i ask you a question?

did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

every single one of your friends was making fun of you

then what did you do?

did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

did you wish you'd put up more of a fight

do you wish you could still touch her?

it's just a question

i just may like to have a conversation

what's that that i heard, that you're still with her?

that's nice, i'm sure that's what's suitable

VIGILANTE SHIT

draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man

you did some bad things, but i'm the worst of them

sometimes i wonder which one will be your last lie

they say looks can kill and i might try

lately i've been dressing for revenge

i don't start shit, but i can tell you how it ends

don't get sad, get even

i'm on my vigilante shit again

BEJEWELED

i think I've been a little too kind

putting someone first only works when you're in their top five

i'm going out tonight

do you have a man?

familiarity breeds contempt

don't put me in the basement when i want the penthouse of your heart

i polish up real nice

i think i've been too good of a girl

did all the extra credit then got graded on a curve

i think it's time to teach some lessons

LABYRINTH

‘it only hurts this much right now,’ was what i was thinking the whole time

i'll be getting over you my whole life

uh oh, i'm falling in love

you would break your back to make me break a smile

you know how much i hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back just like that

KARMA

you're talking shit for the hell of it

you wouldn't know what i mean

me and karma vibe like that

don't you know that cash ain't the only price?

ask me what i learned from all those years

ask me what i earned from all those tears

ask me why so many fade but i'm still here

SWEET NOTHING

they said the end is coming

everyone's up to something

i find myself running home to your sweet nothings

all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

on the way home i wrote a poem

you should be doing more

to you i can admit hat i'm just too soft for all of it

MASTERMIND

you and i ended up in the same room at the same time

what if i told you none of it was accidental

i laid the groundwork and then just like clockwork the dominoes cascaded in a line

what if i told you i'm a mastermind?

if you fail to plan, you plan to fail

no one wanted to play with me as a little kid

this is the first time i've felt the need to confess

i'm only cryptic and machiavellian 'cause i care

yeah, all you did was smile

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