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#my legacy crumbling where i stand

achillvs · 2 years

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that tag on serendipity post asklasj I didn't know you liked bts! I javen't seen any jegulus shippers with bts mentions yet, where are the lyrics crossovers? also do you have favourite songs, albums, members?

yea, i like bts lol i got into them in 2016 and only faded out like a year, two ago (long story, but the eng releases weren't my thing, i felt like they ran out of steam and i had less time to fixate)

i still love them to hell and back, purple army blood for life. you're right, I haven't seen any bts content with hp or marauders in general, let alone jegulus. an untapped market. i will think about this

as for favourites: song - jesus, idk, it's so many. maybe 13430, black swan, miss right, her, save me. sea, definitely. blood sweat & tears. hip hop phile. i'm just throwing titles at the wall atp. album - probably wings or tear. member - jimin

#ask #bts #my legacy crumbling where i stand

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scrivenger-grimgar · 12 days

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au of an au for mdzs where canon plays out exactly as it was supposed to except

wwx became a calamity after dying and cared for his coven of ghosts in yiling before mxy summoned him for revenge.

he still elopes with lwj after solving the corpse question

supreme ghosts have a similar ability to gods taking deputies, except since they're not sharing immortality they can have a lot more of them

wwx's "deputies" are (in order) jiang cheng, the wen remnants, luo qingyang, nie huaisang, mo xuanyu, jin ling, lan jingyi, ouyang zhizhen, lan sizhui, and lan wangji.

being a calamity's "deputy" means that you are soul bonded to them, with a kind of preternatural sense of the wellbeing of the entire coven.

one of the heavenly officials decides to fuck around with time, and only other heavenly officials were supposed to remember, except extremely strong ghosts and their covens also remember because there are TWO gods married to calamities, and calamities are weirdly cooperative with each other (hc, hx, wwx, & gL discuss trade agreements over tea and artistic process over alcohol).

thus like 75 people are now in the past.

wwx's child body cant stand the power his soul has and just kinda crumbles under the weight. thats mostly fine tho cause he can shapeshift.

of course he immediately comes up with a dastardly plan to inflict as much chaos onto the sects as possible while also protecting his loved ones at the same time. he gets in contact with the wen remnants (bigger and there's more of them) and slowly moves them over to yiling while he builds places for them to live on the mountain, and then offers the people of yiling a very good deal:

"we'll deal with all your ghost problems for free, and in exchange we get discounts on food, and you tell everyone who comes asking that the Yiling Wei sect has been here the entire time."

its almost too easy to set up, too. they forge some trade agreements and other documents to place in the other sects' files, waiting to be found, with ease, bc he knows what the filing for the jiang, lan, wen, and nie looks like, and part of the story is that the jin offended them so badly that they just stopped doing business with them altogether and also tend to actively hate them with few exceptions.

meanwhile, huaisang, qingyang, and wangji will reference the Yiling Wei and act like this is something everyone knows about, and jiang cheng catches on and starts doing the same.

wwx's plan is to drive them all insane by appearing out of nowhere and acting like he's been there the entire time. make them question reality.

wen popo, at a discussion conference: i'll be standing in for my grandson so he can participate in the games

jiang fengmian, initiating polite conversation: your grandson? what happened to your son?

wen popo, internally cackling: fengmian! are you so quick to discard changze like this?! for shame!!

jiang fengmian, who has never met this lady: what

wen popo: you know i trusted him when he said he wanted to stand by his sworn brother's side but if this is how you treat his memory after he was so unwaveringly loyal to you, only ever leaving for Cangse, the love of his life, then i'll have to have you stricken from the legacy registry!

wen popo, with unfaltering confidence: good evening wen-zhongzhu

wen ruohan, who has incurable face blindness: well met Wei-zhongzhu (do i know her???)

nie mingjue is the only one who's taking any of this well and thats solely because his brother has been spoon feeding him Yiling Wei propaganda for 13 years. lan xichen has a crisis because his baby brother eloped with a clan leader he met thrice and they're having a spring wedding.

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unabashegirl · 2 months

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Vicious 4 || Harry Styles x Mafia

Summary: Harry Styles, the cold and calculating son of a powerful mafia don, must consolidate power after his father's passing. He faces challenges from his unpredictable younger brother, Silas, and navigates a complex world of alliances, ruthless decisions, and family loyalty. Amidst the intrigue, the elegant and alluring Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, attends the funeral and finds herself drawn to Harry. As power dynamics shift and the future remains uncertain, the story explores the dark and dangerous allure of the mafia, the weight of family legacies, and the potential for unexpected connections in a world defined by secrecy and ruthlessness.

Author's note: asked to get tagged! Here is my Patreon in case you want to get ahead and get early access to more chapters.

word count: 2.0K

masterlist

The scent of blood permeated not only one's nose but also clung to hair, clothes, and anything one wore. The atmosphere in the chambers was perpetually cold and damp, creating an unsettling ambiance. It was a dark, eerie place, one that instilled fear in young Harry when he was just a boy. Back then, he knew it as the forbidden place where his father would take people to "take care" of them.

It remained off-limits until Harry turned fifteen, and Arthur began to introduce him to the macabre secrets within. The first day proved harrowing; overwhelmed by anxiety and the overwhelming scent of blood, Harry couldn't endure it. He vomited and cried to his mother, vowing never to return. However, that resolution crumbled as his father included him in the sadistic practices of torturing their enemies.

Arthur meticulously groomed him, desensitizing him to the gruesome reality until he could slit someone's throat without flinching. The cold, merciless chambers became a training ground for the heir, shaping him into the unyielding figure he would eventually become.

Harry lingered in the shadows of the chamber, where the man accused of desecrating his father's corpse sat. Bound to a wooden chair in the room's center, the accused man met the somber gazes of the onlooking men. Sympathy tinged their expressions, but a collective understanding resonated - what needed to be done had to be done. Even in death, loyalty to the former boss persisted. Silence enveloped the chamber as Harry contemplated the situation, contemplating the best course of action.

"What did you plan to do with the body?" Harry inquired, his voice cutting through the chamber's heavy air as he methodically made his way from the back to the front. He aimed to confront the accused, locking eyes with him before delivering the punishment that awaited.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man named Dimitri retorted smugly, a hint of defiance in his demeanor. He understood the perilous situation he was in, yet he remained prepared to face the consequences. Dimitri had been sent on a specific mission, aware of the risks involved in targeting Arthur. What he hadn't anticipated was Harry's foresight in stationing men to guard his father's grave.

Harry cast a brief glance at Lex, and in that moment, the first blow landed on his face, sending him into a quick daze. Dimitri hadn't seen it coming, unaware of Lex standing beside him.

"I'll ask again. What were you planning?" Harry queried, turning his back to walk up to the tools laid out for the impending ordeal.

"You're just like your father. A fuckin' prick," Dimitri spat out, the second hit landing with brutal force, rupturing his eardrum and filling his senses with a piercing ringing. Despite the pain, a twisted laughter escaped Dimitri's lips, echoing through the chamber.

“You don't know who I am? I was there that day. I can still here your mother’s screams” Dimitri taunted in his mother language, revealing to Harry who had sent him, striking at the rawest nerve.

Harry moved swiftly, catching Dimitri off guard. A knife sliced through his leg, triggering screams and shouts that fueled Harry's anger. Dimitri's calculated reference to Harry's mother only intensified the fury within him, leaving no room for remorse.

Harry moved quickly before Dimitri could realize what he was doing. A knife went through his leg. His screams and shouts fueled Harry’s anger. He had brought up his mother which only proved to Harry that he didn’t feel one bit remorseful.

“I will ruin you "Harry whispered back to Dimitri in Russian, his voice cold and resolute as he took hold of one of his hands. The room bore witness to the painful, torturous task ahead as Harry embarked on the painstaking process of pulling off each of Dimitri's nails. The chamber echoed with Dimitri's agonized cries, a symphony of suffering orchestrated by the relentless pursuit of revenge.

Amidst Dimitri's agonized cries, the chamber transformed into a chilling tableau of retribution. Harry, unmoved by the torment he inflicted, continued his methodical descent into sadism. The room's atmosphere thickened with tension as each nail was ruthlessly torn away, leaving Dimitri writhing in unbearable pain.

Harry's movements were deliberate, fueled by a potent mix of anger, vengeance, and the haunting memories Dimitri had sought to exploit. The language of retribution spoke through every tortured scream, a visceral manifestation of the vendetta playing out in the dimly lit chamber.

As the gruesome task unfolded, the weight of Dimitri's betrayal echoed through the room. He had ventured into the territory of the family, a realm where loyalty was sacrosanct, and his actions had triggered a cascade of brutal consequences.

The air was charged with the scent of blood and the cacophony of anguish. Harry, unrelenting, continued his merciless pursuit, driven by a determination to extract the full toll for the transgressions committed against his family. The echoes of Dimitri's cries reverberated through the chamber, marking the relentless march of retribution in the heart of the shadows.

“This fucker” Federico muttered under his breath as he rose from his seat once again. The wait for Harry's return had stretched beyond an hour. "How can he keep us waiting?"

Y/N remained silent, wary of uttering words that might incite her father's anger. Her mind, however, couldn't help but wander, envisioning what Harry was currently engaged in and whose fate he was sealing. Having grown up within the mafia, Y/N was no stranger to the methods employed to handle business. From a young age, she had clandestinely listened to her father discussing the gruesome details of his operations.

"Why are you so quiet?" he asked her in Italian. "You've barely said anything since we came."

"I am fine," Y/N responded, her gaze fixed on the backyard of the estate. "I've just been analyzing everything."

"You have to report everything back to me," Federico declared, his eyes scanning the estate's surroundings. "I must know everything that happens within this house." The motive behind agreeing to Y/N's marriage to Harry became clear—Federico sought intel and marrying her off to Harry was the strategic move to have someone on the inside.

As Federico spoke, Y/N nodded subtly, concealing her inner reservations about the web of alliances and deceit that surrounded her. The weight of her dual role—Harry's wife and her father's informant—pressed upon her, creating a delicate balance she had to maintain.

Federico's watchful eyes turned back to Y/N, a stern expression etched on his face. "Your role is crucial," he emphasized. "We need to know Harry's every move. The success of our family depends on it.”

Y/N nodded again, her gaze flickering toward the entrance as anticipation built. The door creaked open, and Harry stepped into the room. His demeanor was composed, betraying nothing of the tumultuous affairs that had transpired in his absence

"You're still here," Harry pointed out as he strode into his office, taking a seat behind his desk.

"Is everything alright?" Federico inquired, his curiosity evident. He wanted to understand what had caused the delay.

"He won't be a problem anymore," Harry replied succinctly, weariness evident in his voice. "Is there anything else pending?" His desire for a drink and a moment of respite was palpable. The mention of his late mother had taken an emotional toll, a vulnerability that he seldom allowed to surface. She didn’t deserve what had been done to her. She was an angel among all the devils.

Y/N observed the change in Harry's appearance—different suit, bruised knuckles, slightly damp hair, and flattened curls. Something had transpired, and she couldn't help but wonder about the details.

"Just determining where the wedding will take place. I personally think it should be in Italy, at our home," Federico suggested. However, Harry shook his head, instantly dismissing the idea. He wasn't about to lead his men into a foreign country, into the lion's den, even if they were allies. Harry knew better than to underestimate potential risks.

"Here is best. Safer," Harry asserted, leaving no room for debate. The location of his wedding wasn't up for negotiation with Federico. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of." With that, Harry signaled the end of the conversation, his focus already shifting to the matters that awaited his attention.

Federico stormed out of the door, visibly irritated by the dismissal of his suggestions. Y/N discreetly rose from her seat, feeling the weight of Harry's intense gaze on her.

Lex wasted no time entering the office once the Italians had departed. "How was that? When are you getting married?" he inquired, adding with a smirk, "She's not ugly."

"In a month," Harry revealed, a sardonic laugh escaping him at the absurdity of Federico's proposal. "Federico wanted us to have it in Italy."

"Fucker," Lex chuckled. "What are we doing with the Russians?"

"I think we should send them back a gift, don't you think?" Harry suggested, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He looked up at Lex, who nodded in understanding. "Send back what they sent," Harry instructed. Lex acknowledged the order and said, "Take care of that and let me know when the package is ready." The plan was set in motion, the wheels of retribution silently turning in the shadows.

Lex nodded, acknowledging Harry's directive. "Consider it done." he affirmed, a steely determination in his eyes.

Harry lingered in his office for a few more hours, seeking solace amidst the familiar surroundings. Pouring a glass of whiskey and lighting a cigarette, he settled into his seat, attempting to find a moment of respite. The day had been a whirlwind of chaos, and though the desire for rest weighed heavily on him, the pressing tasks ahead refused to be ignored.

The dim glow of the office cast a reflective ambiance as Harry contemplated the intricate web of responsibilities that now rested on his shoulders. Each sip of whiskey brought a momentary warmth, and the tendrils of smoke from his cigarette curled lazily in the air.

With a few more meetings lingering on the horizon, the dimly lit corridors of the English manor buzzed with the hushed conversations of individuals seeking Harry's favor. The air was thick with the weight of their requests, each plea underlined by an unspoken acknowledgment of the shifting dynamics within the English mafia. These were more than routine meetings; they were symbolic gestures of allegiance, a testament to Harry's emerging reign and the challenges that lay ahead.

As the last petitioner departed, their gratitude hanging in the air, Harry emerged from his office. The room behind him held the scent of aged leather and the echoes of decisions made, a silent witness to the myriad responsibilities he bore as the new don.

Intent on locating Charlie to discuss matters of importance, Harry's purposeful stride led him to the foyer. There, amidst the surroundings, he unexpectedly discovered her presence. YN sat on an intricately patterned rug, her form a stark contrast to the grandeur that surrounded her. Two suitcases, well-worn and marked by the passage of time, stood sentinel by her side.

"What are you still doing here?" Harry's voice echoed through the space, genuine surprise etched on his face as he beheld the unexpected scene. His eyes, sharp and discerning, sought answers. "Where is Federico?" The inquiry hung in the air, anticipation threading through the atmosphere like a subtle current, as the layers of loyalty, alliances, and unspoken tensions played out in the grand foyer of the manor.

click here to read chapter 5

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jgoddesstarot · 7 months

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Pick-A-Pile: Family Dynamics: How Does Your Future Spouse Interact With Their Family?

👑Check out my masterlist to see all of my pick-a-card readings😊

✨ Visit my shops at Ko-fi.com or J.Goddess Tarot✨

🔮Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are based upon my intuitive interpretation of the cards and about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

🔮How I read: I use a mix of tarot cards, oracle cards, along with my intuitive abilities of claircognizance, clairaudience, and clairsentience.

🔮How this works: Close your eyes and take deep breaths, pick the pile you are most drawn to. If you aren’t drawn to any pile then that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you at this time.

Pile 1

Tarot Cards: Death, 7 of Pentacles, Knight of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacle, 4 of Swords

Hi my captivating Pile 1's, brace yourself for a tantalizing journey through the vibrant tapestry of your future lover's family dynamics. Ready for the revelations?

First, let's enter a realm of transformation—a space where old realities crumble, giving way to new horizons. Imagine a grand ancestral mansion shifting its walls and corridors, changing its very essence. Such is the profound metamorphosis that has molded your future spouse's family. This change—whether it's the winds of fortune turning or migrating to new shores—has profoundly infused their essence, shaping their familial ties with a blend of nostalgia and acceptance.

Journeying deeper, we find a lush garden where every tree and shrub has been meticulously nurtured over the years. Here, your lover emerges as the devoted gardener, their hands lovingly tending to the familial roots, ensuring that bonds flourish and thrive. They appreciate the slow dance of time, understanding that the most profound connections are nurtured patiently, season after season.

Now, amidst this verdant expanse, stands a sentinel—a knight in shining armor, steadfast and unyielding. This is your partner, the unwavering backbone of their family, always present in times of need. Their feet planted firmly on the ground, they bring pragmatism and reliability to family affairs, ensuring that everyone feels safe and cherished.

But, oh! The story doesn't end here. Amidst the lushness, there's an aura of newness—a gleam of golden opportunities. Your future love is the trailblazer, the one igniting fresh traditions, the beacon guiding their clan to embrace novelty, all while cherishing their rich legacy.

Yet, amidst all this hustle, there's a serene sanctuary—a quiet spot where time stands still. Here, your lover retreats, understanding the sacredness of rejuvenation. They champion the balance between fervent family engagements and soulful solace, ensuring harmony flows through every vein of their lineage.

In wrapping up our delicious saga, delectable Pile 1's, your future love emerges as a potent blend of resilience, dedication, practicality, innovation, and tranquility. They are the heartbeat of their family, a force of stability and renewal. As the threads of destiny intertwine, savor this glimpse into the rich familial tapestry that awaits you

Pile 2

Tarot Cards: Ace of Swords (in reverse), Knight of Wands, 10 of Wands, The Chariot, 5 of Cups

Hey my sultry Pile 2's, fasten your seatbelts as we embark on an exhilarating voyage into the heart and soul of your future beloved, especially the intricate dance of their family dynamics.

Picture a serene moonlit night, where a secretive veil cloaks the stars. Just like that mysterious night, your future partner possesses an art of concealment, especially when family matters arise. They are the silent guardians, preferring to shield their emotions in favor of preserving familial harmony, ensuring no storm disrupts the tranquil waters.

Yet, beneath this gentle facade, a tempest of fiery passion rages. Imagine a blazing phoenix, soaring high and fiercely guarding its realm. That's your future lover when their family's sanctity is at stake. They're a spirited protector, ready to leap into action, driven by a blazing heart that might occasionally prompt them to leap before they look. But rest assured, their intentions are as pure as gold.

But oh, how the universe plays its dualities! This fiery phoenix also carries the weight of the world on its wings. They're the anchor, the one who stands tall amidst family storms, absorbing every thunder and lightning, ensuring no harm befalls their kin. Sometimes it's a labor of love, and at others, a duty they can't escape.

Yet, against these raging storms and burdens, stands a fearless charioteer—your future spouse, taking the reins of their family chariot, navigating through life's tumultuous terrains with unyielding focus. Balancing passion and responsibility, they ensure their family sails smoothly towards their shared destiny.

Amidst these tales of courage and resilience, there's a chapter of heartache. A past that's seen shadows of loss or perhaps unmet expectations. But it's these very shadows that have molded them into the beacon of hope, teaching them to find the silver lining even in the cloudiest of skies.

Drawing our thrilling escapade to its end, my enticing Pile 2's, we unveil a partner enveloped in layers of fierce protection, fiery passion, unspoken sacrifices, unwavering determination, and the wisdom of their past. Their dance with family is both intense and tender, replete with challenges yet underscored by undying love. While these cards are but whispers of fate, always remember: Destiny is a two-player game. Embrace the anticipation and trust in the cosmic dance of love and life.

Pile 3

Tarot Cards: 6 of Swords, 3 of Cups (in reverse), Queen of Pentacles (in reverse), Page of Wands, Knight of Swords

Ah, my captivating Pile 3's, let's embark on a tantalizing journey through the tapestry of your future spouse's family dynamics.

Picture a sailboat gently cutting through stormy seas, setting its compass toward tranquil waters. Your future beloved, it appears, has masterfully navigated their way out of family tempests. They've journeyed from choppy family ties to calmer connections, gracefully steering clear of conflicts to safeguard their peace.

However, beneath this serenity lies a whispered melancholy, like a solitary bird against a dusky sky. There's a quiet space between them and their kin, a distance that feels more emotional than physical. Perhaps the sound of clinking glasses and laughter during family feasts doesn't resonate with the same fervor. Yet, remember, this silence is their protective shield, a sanctuary carved from lessons of yesteryears.

Now, think of a warm hearth, radiating comfort. Curiously, this warmth seems elusive when it comes to their familial ties. It's not that they lack a nurturing spirit; it's just that they've found it challenging to channel it within the family's confines, perhaps holding back from the traditional roles of providing and caregiving.

But ah, there's a twist in our tale! Envision a vibrant flame, dancing with wild abandon. That's the spirit of your future spouse—unyielding, passionate, and bursting with curiosity. Their bond with their family might deviate from the norm, but it's fueled by a desire for a fresh, innovative approach. They're the wildflowers amidst roses, standing out with their unique, fiery essence.

Imagine a swift falcon, diving decisively to its prey. That's your beloved when faced with family matters—direct, unhesitant, and quick to address concerns. They don't let issues fester, choosing instead to face them head-on.

Drawing our thrilling escapade to its end, my enticing Pile 3's, we unveil a future partner who's gracefully danced with family challenges, displaying resilience, wisdom, and a fiery individuality. Their family song might not fit the traditional tunes, but it's undeniably rich in character and depth. Let's savor the symphony of these cards and relish in the anticipation of what's to come. After all, every note and rhythm sketches a piece of the fascinating enigma that is your future spouse.

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fxnfiction · 5 months

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Buddie Fic Recs! (pt 1)

A few months ago I shared my FirstPrince fic rec list- today it's time for Buddie fics! (part one- 2023 fic edition!)

happy reading!

All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels | 107k | E

Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost.

Fate has other plans for both of them.

still by brewrosemilk | 9k | T

For the first time, Buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. Dirt to dig at. A door to break through. Something. There’s nothing.

“Your guess was correct, Diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “You’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. Don’t shift. When you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it."

Inspired by Castle, S05E22: Still

come close, let me be home by Daffi_990_ao3 | 4k | Not Rated

“Looking good out there, Buckley” Eddie says as he hands him a beer.

Buck accepts the bottle and takes a seat beside him, popping the cap off to take a drink. “Any chance we’ll see you bust some moves on the dance floor, Diaz?”

“Maybe, if I have the right partner”.

Eddie’s looking right and him and Buck can feel a blush creeping its way across his cheeks. It’s shit like this that has him thinking maybe this thing between them isn’t just one sided. Buck takes another pull of beer, keeping eye contact with Eddie and watching how the other man tracks the bob of his adams apple as he swallows.

“The night is still young and full of possibilities.” Buck replies, and he swears he sees Eddie’s eyes sparkle

Buck and Eddie slow dance at Maddie and Chim’s wedding

if i'm honest (it felt like love by sparegarbage | 2k | G

“You have a good partner, Eddie.”

Eddie flushes, because he knows that her partner isn’t the same as work partner. It’s an assumption they had never bothered to correct at Christopher’s school, mostly because it made it easier for people to understand why Buck was around so often, versus best friend or colleague or legal guardian in case I die.

“Yeah,” Eddie responds, his voice thicker than he expected. “He’s the best partner I could ask for.”

Or: Christopher hosts a sleepover, Buck helps, and Eddie realizes he hasn’t been a single dad in years.

i’ll bandage up your body and your bones and your bad days too by oklahoma | 6k | T

Eddie’s day is going pretty well until he’s held hostage at gunpoint in the Dollar Store five minutes from his house.

Okay, that’s a lie. Not the being held hostage at gunpoint bit—that’s very much real, if the gun in his face is anything to go by—but the good day part.

Because it’s been a bad day. A shit day. A stupid day. A horrible, no good, very bad, awful, ugly day, and it all started when he woke up this morning.

You, all the way down by justhockey | 8k | Not Rated

Suddenly, between one moment and the next, there are hands on him. Hands that Buck would know anywhere; hands that Buck knows maybe even better than he knows his own. The touch is exquisitely gentle - tender to the point of devastation, even though the calloused palms scratch against the soft skin of his cheeks.

It’s Eddie, because of course it is. Because who else would it be.

“Breathe for me,” he says, loud enough that everyone can hear, but meant only for them. Only for Buck.

It’s Not the Roaring Dream, It’s the Silent Lightning by giselleslash | 15k | M

Buck gets struck by lightning and wakes up in another life where he has everything he’s ever wanted, but soon that life starts to crumble around him and the painful pull back into reality nearly breaks his heart.

(or the one where Buck is married to Eddie in a coma dream and he doesn’t want to let the dream go.)

feels like I'm closer to a revelation every night by wafflesofdoom | 2k | G

She sees me.

Like Eddie didn’t? Like Eddie didn't know Buck better than anyone - better than he knew himself, sometimes? Eddie sees him for exactly who he is – kind, and caring, and wonderful, and fundamentally changed by those three minutes and seventeen seconds he was dead.

or, a look inside of Eddie's head during their conversation at the cemetary.

I’m Not Breathing Unless I’m Giving You CPR by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels | 51k | E

Evan Buckley fascinates Eddie. And when Eddie's fascinated by something, he wants to play with it. Especially when the thing in question hates him so much.

But then something odd happens - Buck sees past Eddie's mask for what he really is. And it turns out, Buck's the same way. And he's not something to play with. He's something to keep.

Now the real game begins: the game of being who they are, what they are, together, without their well-meaning friends and family finding out. Because now that they've found each other, they're not going to let anyone separate them. Buck is keeping Eddie, and Eddie is keeping Buck.

By any means necessary.

The one where Buck can’t leave by buddiefication | 1k | G

At the end of movie night, Buck usually goes home. This time, he can’t seem to force himself to leave.

OR: Buck and Eddie curl up on the couch together, and somehow don’t know they’re in love.

wishing to be the friction by ipretendtobesane | 97k | E

Buck and Eddie are straight best friends who start having no strings attached sex. Eddie has a hard time having sex with someone he doesn't trust, and Buck's tired of hookups after being with Abby. Besides, they're both comfortable with their sexuality, and there's nothing wrong with giving your friend a hand. What's surprising is how long it took them to fall into bed together, really.

What's entirely unsurprising is how quickly strings start getting attached.

or; the straight eddie friends with benefits fic

heart in hands, hands in pockets by soyxunxperdedor | 5k | G

In which Eddie tries to move on.

not all of us are heroes (not all of us are brave) by withmeornotatall | 6k | G

Buck shakes his head and grimaces apologetically at Marisol. "I'm so sorry for interrupting your night," he tells her. "I'm gonna leave you guys to it, but it was nice to see you again." "Nice to see you too," Marisol replies with a smile. "Sorry again," he addresses this one to Eddie. "I didn't think. I just—" "You thought Chris needed you," Eddie says softly, eyes so warm Buck wants to stay here forever. "Don't apologise for that." "Right, well." Buck takes a deep breath to calm his still pounding heart before saluting at Christopher. "Forever at your service, Superman." He backs out of the kitchen in an exaggerated bow, ducking to hide his smile when Christopher's laugh follows him out.

(OR: buck and natalia break up, eddie decides to introduce his girlfriend to his son, christopher knows way too much, and the 118's wine night has never been quite so eventful)

translate the magic (show me) by extasiswings | 8k | E

“I think I might be bad in bed.”

Eddie rolls that thought around in his head, trying to decide the best way to respond, weighing the options of what Buck needs to hear versus how to say it. It’s not a conversation he wants to be having, is part of the problem. Thinking about Buck desperately seeking connection through fleeting sexual encounters with strangers already makes him swallow back a wave of petty jealousy and possessiveness. But there’s an added level of insult to injury to the idea that Buck wasn’t even having good sex. Which maybe explains why despite his initial commitment to delicacy and tact, what comes out of Eddie’s mouth is—

“You probably were. Bad at it.”

Buck’s eyes widen, a strangled noise sounding from his throat.

“Don’t pull any punches,” he shoots back as he hunches in the chair and drains the last dregs of his beer.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

[Or: the one where Buck has a crisis and Eddie teaches him what good sex really is]

Enjoy! Find part 2 here x

#911 #911 on abc #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #fic recs #buck x eddie #fanfiction #fxnfiction does fanfiction #i want to make a million of these tbh #pls let me know what you think #letmetellyouaboutmyfeels i am submitting my application for your biggest fan actually #anyway more tomorrow bye!

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miss-mossball · 3 months

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Just curious if you are new and now learning about the princess rose canon how would you describe the world of princess rose in broad strokes?

An excellent question :> I'd be happy to share

In the fictional land of Herz, the newest generation of the royal Hearte family are made of of three siblings: Zephyr, the next king. Haze, the scholar. And Rose, the princess. Their stories all have to do with having a legacy of trauma and how they cope with it - if they break the cycle or succumb to it. So obviously, it's a very heavy and very personal story for me, because all the details of Herz are inspired by my own

The land of Herz is one set heavily in tradition and keeps itself closed off out of fear and hatred of the magic that runs the rest of the world. As a result they're less technologically advanced and kind of stuck in times that don't match with the rest of the world around them. In all the countries, Herz is generally looked down upon or pitied. Rightfully so, the laws in place to destroy all magic has resulted in destroying their corner of the world, whether they understand that or not.

The Hearte family being the heart of Herz is very fitting. A long history of abuse and secrecy surrounds the seemingly perfect family. Everyone is crumbling under the weight of the previous kings' sorrows and hatred, and as much as there have been attempts to not be like their forefathers, the pressure from running a hateful, angry country eventually snuffs out any attempts to make it better. I wouldn't bother mentioning it in any other story, but the abuse story is the central thing I focus on because that's what I made Herz for.

Princess Rose is a seemingly unimportant character in the grand scheme of things - Zephyr will rule and change Herz for the better. Haze will fall in love and bring unity with the Glacie. And Rose... Has no idea what she's going to do, how she could do anything as she married off to one of their own. Nevermind the horrors she doesn't yet understand that chase her. She's just a princess in a tower, really, but the dragons keeping her are more man than monster

In the broadest, most obvious strokes, the land of Herz is the Lutheran church, and the Hearte family is the pastor's family I grew up with. It's a sad story that's full of a lot of pain, but also a lot of hope and recovery. It's one I put a lot of love into, and also something I'm still pretty private about some of the details of, so unfortunately there's not any one comic or piece of writing to guide you on what all is happening here. But I hope this helps a little bit though :)

There are also multiple variations on the same story, like the bad ending where Haze ends up being a cult leader. And the good endings where Rose is still alive and living her life no longer being a princess. My ideas shift a little day by day and I doodle for all of them, so there's nothing super cohesive you have to keep in mind.

There's also the modern AU where the kingdom of Herz is long forgotten and reintegrated back into Cygni, but the Hearte family lives on with a high social standing in the city of Blumenstrand

Anyway, I hope this helped some! If you have any other questions, my inbox is always open!

#doodle heaven #my ocs #princess rose #prince haze #king zephyr #herz kingdom #drabble heaven #' x ' <(#rose is most certainly My Main Character tm because I draw her all the time but I'm thinking of the rps with Rou where Haze is more main #also thank you so much for asking!!!!! I really liked this ask so I took special time to make the art for it

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localgardenweed · 1 month

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Ok I was originally gonna write how I wanna go back to Eddsworld and do stuff for it again but felt out of the loop with the modern fandom and shit but ended up being a rant about how I hate Beyond so like gonna write this again but keeping part of the rant cause i need to share how much i cant stand Beyond again

So like I wanna come back to Eddsworld cause as much as it was a dumpster fire for me it was my first real fandom I was apart of online so it holds a place in my heart. I mean probably technically whatever I did on Framecast was my first ever online fandom space but shhhh that dont count i was but a wondering traveler looking for my place in the world. It actually got me into Eddsworld someone made a animation to Youth by Daughter and had me hooked. But still was very important to me and my art development.

Its so crazy to me cause i was into Eddsworld HARD in the 2016-2020 era where alot of the ig modern fandom was born i watched cities fall and crumble I was deep in the amino trenches, Pork Sodaing and seeing so much historical fandom events happen before your eyes. I was watching everyone consume every piece of Prince of Mints and Moho art I was a sucker for them which probably wasn’t okay for like a 5th grader but i definitely turned out all right /j.

I left for a little bit on and off cause Hetalia was choking me and like keeping me prisoner but like it still had a place in my heart for it but like ya know i still was there but idk now I just dont find the same spark anymore from the first go around. Something changed and maybe cause i just had my tastes change and maybe cause my ex-best friend was making fun of my oc all the time but i made him when i was like 11 and figuring out identities and ways to express yourself without sticking to the gender norms and dealing with alot of stuff at the time i finally caved and just didn’t feel the same any anymore about the show.

Cause I loved that fandom more than anything but, I don’t know I just don’t know how to get back that spark and go frolic in the fields with my TomTordOc love triangle of my 5th grader dreams and just be cringe and free and feel joy again but I just cant enjoy the material anymore like THEY ARE MASSACRING MY BOYS WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO THEMM

It doesn’t hit the same and i know i dont need to consume Beyond i doubt anyone actually does at this point but i cant stand beside while they murder everything i loved about the Classic and Legacy eras.

Also just, I think I hit a road block with it too like, I got stuck on where to do and what to do with Eddsworld like. I make aus i made ocs i made a ask blog i made animatics, now what? And like idk i felt weird and like stuck in the mud with them. Also just had the friend falling out who was also the co-creator of the ask blog so now i dont know how to pick it back up all by myself again but them again i really was just doing it by myself all the time anyway so i just have to figure out how to get back into the swing of things

I have some ideas for aus and maybe just finally be free and bring my oc back from the grave for realsies and make you all consume it but, I don’t know. Im scared to come back cause also weirdly alot of the new fans are younger than me or the older fans are older than me so its kinda awkward, also im just awkward im scared to talk to people online, there is and were some people i desperately wanted to be friends with both in and out of Eddsworld but im too scared and either just watch from afar or abuse the Anonymous function in ask boxes.

If i cave enough i might come back to Eddsworld to at least finish my lore for the ask blog cause IM SORRY I LEFT YALL HANGING I HAD SCHOOL AND THEN JUST FORGOT ABOUT IT but forever haunted by the people who like every single post and then i get excited cause i see like 99+ notes waiting for me and i think one of my new posts blew up but no its just the ew boys who screw around likes and reblog and the occasional comment

One day ill return to my rightful birthplace and one day I shall be free and one with nature and draw as much as I want for it and as many ocs i want without someone telling me its cringe or make more for the ask blog or hell start doing animation and animatics again

Ok here is the Beyond rant now if you wanna read it

I feel the difference between Beyond and Legacy is that, Beyond is trying to horriblycopy their older brothers Classic and Legacy and almost dumb it down a bit with more childish humor, and Legacy takes inspiration from Classic: It’s different but a natural difference/evolution. Or the fact a whole new guy was writing it all with a slightly different style so he wrote what he knew idk maybe a bit of a factor idk

Also i cant stand the Tord bait sorry I cant, especially when they used to like get annoyed by the fandom by asking and then just realized he was a cash cow so like now we get Tord merch and the hints and Tori and the skit with the cavemen like OMG TORD- and he got crushed by a rock thanks gang, cause like dude I think as much as we love Tord like maybe this go around respect Larson’s choice to like not use him in the series anymore and take him out but like ig that doesn’t apply to merch so yeah lets do one more go around bring out the red one. Or idk maybe they contacted him and was like “yo dude can we like use him for merch” but i dont think that happened. I think it was just better to leave him absent from the show and be like “yeah no Tord guys, no Tord” and we could have all had our thumbs up and be like “Ok Eddsworld Beyond we are okay with that”. Like I know Red October was for charity but idk it still felt weird to use Tord, like could this really not have just been the main 3 or like bring in some deep cut old characters or side characters did we really need Tord here.

#localgardenweed #the weed is rambling #eddsworld #big rant #sorry for the influx of text posts guys i have no art rn to share to the public #i mean ive been drawing but its a bunch of like irl friend group au stuff and idk if we wanna share it to tumblr dot com yet

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star-wars-writing · 3 months

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Whispers Among the Vines: Echoes of Legacy

I must extend my sincerest apologies for the unexpected silence from my end these past two weeks. Life, with its unpredictable ebb and flow, required me to step back into the whirlwind of work after a brief hiatus. The transition back has been both rewarding and demanding, leaving little room for writing and doing anything creative. That being said, this is the @codywanbingoingo with prompt: Drinks. I hope you like it.

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, it cast a golden glow over Kenobi Vineyards, revealing a landscape at once haunting and beautiful. The vineyard, sprawling across rolling hills, was a patchwork of verdant growth and neglect. Ancient vines, their roots deeply entwined with the soil's history, stretched towards the sky with a weary resilience, their leaves tinged with the struggle of seasons past. These guardians of the land, once meticulously tended, now bore the marks of time's indifference, their supports weathered and leaning, like weary soldiers after a long battle.

The trellises, designed to cradle burgeoning life, stood fractured and forgotten, their wooden bones bleached by the sun, a stark reminder of the care that had once flourished here. Stone walls, constructed with the painstaking effort of generations, crumbled in places, surrendering to the relentless advance of nature as wildflowers and ivy claimed them as their own. The beauty of the vineyard was undeniable, yet each breathtaking view was marred by evidence of decay, the land crying out for a steward's touch.

Amidst this beauty and disrepair, the winery buildings themselves told a story of faded glory. The main house, with its once-proud facade, now showed cracks and peeling paint, the windows reflecting the morning light in a mosaic of hope and desolation. Nearby, the barn and fermentation rooms, the heart of the vineyard's operations, stood silent, their doors hanging open, revealing shadows that spoke of abandoned crafts and empty barrels.

The air, heavy with the scent of earth and vine, carried whispers of the vineyard's past splendor, mingling with a tangible sense of loss. Dew clung to spiderwebs strung like delicate lace between the vines, sparkling in the sunlight as if to highlight the beauty that persisted in the face of neglect. The ground, parched and cracked, thirsted for attention, a stark canvas awaiting the touch of rain or the gentle care of a gardener's hand.

In this place where time seemed to stand still, the wild and the cultivated converged, creating a landscape that was as compelling as it was heartrending. The vineyard, in its state of serene desolation, stood as a testament to the cycles of growth and decline, a mirror to the natural world's enduring struggle and resilience. It was a portrait of potential left untapped, a dream suspended in the golden morning light, waiting for the moment of renewal to breathe life back into its veins.

As the sun climbed higher, its rays piercing through the morning mist, Obi-Wan Kenobi made his solitary way along the narrow paths that wound through the heart of Kenobi Vineyards. Each step carried the weight of centuries, the legacy of his family pressing down upon him with a force that was almost palpable. The vines, ancient and gnarled, seemed to lean towards him as he passed, like old friends reaching out for comfort or perhaps offering their silent support.

Obi-Wan paused, his gaze lingering on a particularly old vine that twisted around its trellis in an intricate dance of life and survival. His hand hovered over a cluster of grapes, not yet ripe, but full of promise. The touch of the morning dew against his skin was a bittersweet reminder of the vineyard's needs—needs that had grown increasingly difficult to meet.

"It's not just the land that's parched," he murmured to himself, his voice barely louder than a whisper, lost amidst the symphony of nature that surrounded him. His words were an acknowledgment of his own inner drought, a reflection of the loneliness that had settled in his heart since he had taken on the responsibility of the vineyard.

The burden of the vineyard's future was a constant companion, an ever-present shadow that followed him through the rows of vines. Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel the vineyard's decline was a reflection of his own inadequacies. "I promised you I'd keep this place alive," he whispered, not to the vine but to the memory of his ancestors, those who had cultivated these lands into prosperity. The wind, picking up slightly, seemed to carry his words away, an offering to those who had walked these paths before him.

As he continued his walk, Obi-Wan's thoughts drifted to the upcoming visit from the wine critic, Cody. The man's reputation preceded him, known for his discerning palate and the power his words held over the fate of wineries. The prospect of Cody's visit was a double-edged sword; it held the potential for salvation or the final nail in the coffin for Kenobi Vineyards.

Reaching the edge of the property, Obi-Wan stood overlooking the valley below, the view a tapestry of wild beauty and cultivated order. The vineyard's struggles seemed insignificant against the backdrop of the sprawling landscape, yet to Obi-Wan, they were the world.

"I need to show him the soul of this place, not just the wine," Obi-Wan resolved, his voice stronger now, carrying a new edge of determination. The vineyard was more than just land and vines; it was a legacy of love, resilience, and the unbreakable bond between the earth and those who tend it.

Turning back towards the heart of the vineyard, Obi-Wan's stride carried a renewed purpose. The visit from Cody was an opportunity, perhaps the last he would have, to turn the tide. As he made his way back, the vineyard seemed to respond to his resolve, the air charged with a sense of anticipation.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of activity. Obi-Wan lost himself in the work, his hands moving with practiced ease as he tended to the vines, each gesture a silent prayer for the future. The physical labor was grounding, a reminder that, despite the uncertainty that lay ahead, there was always work to be done, always hope to be found in the rhythm of the vineyard.

As the day waned and the time of Cody's arrival drew near, Obi-Wan took a moment to stand once again at the overlook, watching as the setting sun painted the sky in shades of fire and gold. The beauty of the moment was a poignant reminder of the vineyard's potential, its capacity for renewal and growth.

"This is your moment, Kenobi," he whispered to himself, the words a vow to the land, to his family, and to his own weary heart. "It's time to show them what we're made of."

With the shadows lengthening and the first stars beginning to twinkle in the evening sky, Obi-Wan turned and made his way back to the house to greet his guest. The fate of Kenobi Vineyards hung in the balance, but for the first time in a long while, Obi-Wan felt a flicker of hope, a spark that suggested that perhaps, just perhaps, the best chapters of their story were yet to be written.

****

The tranquility of Kenobi Vineyards was abruptly punctuated by the sound of an approaching vehicle, its engine's growl a stark contrast to the peaceful chirps and whispers of the countryside. A sleek, modern car wound its way along the vineyard's access road, dust billowing in its wake like a herald announcing the arrival of something—or someone—significant. The car's metallic surface glittered under the fading sunlight, a beacon of the outside world intruding upon the timeless beauty of the vineyard.

Obi-Wan, standing near the main house, watched the car's approach with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The arrival of Cody was like the first drop of rain before a storm, charged with the potential to either nourish the land or ravage it completely. Obi-Wan's heart beat a tense rhythm, echoing the uneven pace of his thoughts. He was acutely aware that the fate of Kenobi Vineyards rested on the impression it would make on this one man.

As the car came to a halt, the door opened, and Cody stepped out. He was every bit the figure Obi-Wan had imagined: tall, with an authoritative presence that seemed to command the space around him. His eyes, sharp and discerning, took in the surroundings with a critical gaze that missed nothing. The setting sun cast long shadows that played across his features, giving him an aura of mystery and power.

For a moment, Obi-Wan felt as if the vineyard itself held its breath, the very air charged with tension. He stepped forward, extending a hand in greeting. "Cody, welcome to Kenobi Vineyards," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.

Cody's handshake was firm, his grip conveying a confidence that Obi-Wan both envied and admired. "Mr. Kenobi," Cody acknowledged, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "I've heard much about your vineyard. I'm eager to see if it lives up to its reputation."

As they walked toward the main house, Obi-Wan felt Cody's gaze sweeping over the vineyard, missing none of the beauty nor the disrepair. Obi-Wan found himself wondering what Cody saw when he looked at the vineyard. Did he see a lost cause, or could he perceive the potential that Obi-Wan believed in so fiercely?

The silence between them was filled with unspoken questions and judgments. Obi-Wan led Cody to a small patio overlooking the vineyard, where the last light of day gave the vines a soft, ethereal glow. He gestured for Cody to take a seat, while he fetched a bottle of their best vintage.

Pouring the wine with hands that betrayed none of his inner nervousness, Obi-Wan offered Cody a glass. "This is one of our finest vintages," he said, his voice infused with a pride that came from years of dedication. "I hope it speaks for itself."

Cody accepted the glass, his expression inscrutable as he swirled the wine, observing its color against the backdrop of the setting sun. He took a sip, closing his eyes briefly as if to fully concentrate on the flavors. Obi-Wan watched him, searching for any sign of approval or disapproval.

Finally, Cody opened his eyes, and Obi-Wan felt as if the entire vineyard waited on his verdict. "There's a complexity here... a depth that I didn't expect," Cody admitted, his voice thoughtful. "It's evident that care went into its making."

The words felt like a reprieve to Obi-Wan, a small crack in the storm clouds that had gathered over Kenobi Vineyards. He allowed himself a cautious optimism, aware that this was only the beginning of what he hoped would be a turning point for the vineyard.

As the evening wore on, the conversation between Obi-Wan and Cody delved deeper into the intricacies of wine making, the challenges of maintaining a vineyard, and the vision Obi-Wan held for the future. With each shared bottle and story, the initial tension began to dissipate, replaced by a budding respect and understanding.

Obi-Wan realized that Cody, despite his formidable reputation, was driven by a genuine passion for wine and its creation. And Cody, in turn, seemed to recognize the dedication and love Obi-Wan had for Kenobi Vineyards. The evening, which had begun with the weight of judgment, slowly transformed into an exchange between two men who, despite their different paths, shared a common reverence for the art of wine.

As Cody left, promising to return the next day for a full tour, Obi-Wan felt a cautious hope blooming in his chest. The visit had not been the immediate salvation he had dreamt of, but it had opened a door, a possibility for change and renewal. Standing alone under the starlit sky, Obi-Wan allowed himself to believe that Kenobi Vineyards might yet find its way back to life, guided by hands both old and new.

*****

The morning sun bathed Kenobi Vineyards in a warm, golden light, promising a day of revelations and perhaps, redemption. Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody embarked on the tour of the vineyard, the air between them filled with an electric mix of anticipation and underlying skepticism.

Obi-Wan led the way, his stride purposeful yet weighed down by the gravity of what was at stake. Cody followed, his eyes sharp and assessing, missing none of the vineyard's flaws nor its hidden gems. The beauty of the morning could not fully mask the signs of neglect that had crept over the land, like ivy over an abandoned ruin.

"As you can see, the vineyard has seen better days," Obi-Wan began, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "But beneath the overgrowth and decay, there's a legacy of quality and dedication to the craft of winemaking."

Cody's gaze lingered on a section of vineyard where the vines were particularly overgrown. "I can see the potential," he admitted, though his tone remained noncommittal. "But potential alone doesn't produce quality wine. It takes skill, dedication, and considerable investment."

Obi-Wan nodded, the weight of Cody's words settling heavily upon him. "Of course, you're right. Let me show you something that might give you a better understanding of what we're capable of here." He led Cody to an older section of the vineyard, where the vines seemed to stand a bit taller, their leaves a deeper shade of green.

"These vines were planted by my great-grandfather," Obi-Wan explained, his hand brushing against the rough bark of the nearest vine. "They're some of the oldest on the property, and they produce our most distinctive grapes. The wine they yield..." He paused, searching for the right words. "It's not just a drink. It's a piece of history, a testament to the love and care that my family has poured into this land for generations."

Cody listened, his expression softening slightly. It was clear that Obi-Wan's words had struck a chord, reminding him that wine was more than a commodity—it was a story, a legacy that connected the past to the present.

As they continued the tour, Obi-Wan shared more about the unique aspects of their wine-making process, from the careful selection of grapes to the traditional methods they still employed in fermentation and aging. With each detail, he wove a narrative of dedication and passion, a narrative that seemed to slowly chip away at Cody's initial skepticism.

At one point, Obi-Wan paused beside a small, seemingly insignificant tool shed. "This," he said, unlocking the door, "is where some of our most important work happens." Inside, the shed was filled with an array of barrels, each marked with dates and notes in a meticulous hand.

"These barrels contain experimental blends, my attempts to capture the essence of Kenobi Vineyards in a bottle. Some of them are failures, but others..." He trailed off, selecting a bottle from a nearby shelf. "This one, for example, is something I'm particularly proud of. It's not perfect, but it represents a step toward the future I envision for this vineyard."

Cody watched as Obi-Wan carefully opened the bottle and poured a small amount into two glasses. The act was a gesture of vulnerability, an offering of hope and a request for understanding.

Tasting the wine, Cody's expression was inscrutable for a moment before he nodded slowly. "This is good," he conceded, and Obi-Wan could hear the genuine surprise in his voice. "It's bold, innovative even. It speaks to a level of creativity and risk-taking that's commendable."

The acknowledgment was a balm to Obi-Wan's anxious heart. For the first time since Cody's arrival, he allowed himself to believe that the vineyard's story might not end in decline and obscurity.

As they made their way back to the main house, the atmosphere between them had shifted. The skepticism and desperation that had marked the start of the tour had given way to a cautious optimism. There was a sense of shared understanding, a recognition that beneath the vineyard's disrepair lay a foundation of strength and potential.

"This place," Cody said, pausing to look over the expanse of vines basking in the sunlight, "it has character. And your wine..." He glanced at Obi-Wan, a newfound respect in his gaze. "It has soul. That's something you can't manufacture. It's born from the land and the hands that tend it."

Obi-Wan met Cody's gaze, feeling a surge of pride and determination. "Thank you," he replied, the words a simple but profound acknowledgment of the journey ahead. "With the right care and effort, I believe we can restore Kenobi Vineyards to its former glory, and perhaps, even surpass it."

In the cool, dimly lit interior of the fermentation room, the air was thick with the scent of aging wine and oak. It was here, surrounded by the tangible results of his family’s legacy, that Obi-Wan chose to share the depth of his connection to winemaking and the vineyard itself. The walls, lined with barrels, seemed to listen, silent witnesses to this moment of raw honesty.

Obi-Wan ran his hand along the grain of a nearby barrel, his touch gentle, almost reverent. "Each of these barrels," he began, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet space, "contains more than just wine. They hold stories, years of struggle, moments of triumph, and, yes, even times of failure."

Cody, leaning against a sturdy, aged workbench, watched Obi-Wan closely, sensing the shift in the air, the way the room seemed to close in, focusing all attention on the man before him.

"My passion for winemaking," Obi-Wan continued, pausing to select a bottle from a nearby rack, "isn't just about the craft itself. It's about what it represents—continuity, the passing of knowledge from one generation to the next, the bond between the land and our family." He uncorked the bottle with practiced ease, pouring the rich, dark liquid into two glasses. "But I fear," he admitted, handing a glass to Cody, "that I might be the end of that line."

The admission hung in the air between them, a confession of vulnerability that Obi-Wan rarely allowed himself to show. Cody accepted the glass, his gaze now softened, understanding the weight of Obi-Wan's words.

"Why do you fear that?" Cody asked, the question voiced with genuine curiosity and a hint of concern.

Obi-Wan took a sip of his wine, the action giving him a moment to gather his thoughts. "Because despite my efforts, I can't seem to overcome the challenges we face. The market is changing, and our vineyard... we're struggling to keep up. I worry that I won't be able to preserve this legacy, that I'll be the one under whose watch it all falls apart."

Cody listened, his expression thoughtful, the earlier skepticism replaced by a dawning comprehension of the personal stakes involved for Obi-Wan. "But you're fighting," Cody observed, "not just for the survival of the vineyard, but for something much more personal."

"Yes," Obi-Wan acknowledged, the word laced with a mixture of determination and resignation. "This vineyard is a part of me. To see it fail would be like losing a part of myself. But it's more than that. It's about honoring those who came before me, not letting their hard work and sacrifices be in vain."

The room seemed to close in around them, the air charged with the weight of Obi-Wan's fears and the intensity of his passion. Cody, moved by the depth of Obi-Wan's commitment, found himself reevaluating his initial impressions of both the man and the vineyard.

"Obi-Wan," Cody said, his voice firm, yet imbued with an unexpected warmth, "your dedication is clear, and the quality of your wine speaks for itself. The challenges you face are significant, yes, but not insurmountable."

Obi-Wan met Cody's gaze, searching for a hint of the skepticism that had marked their initial meeting. Instead, he found understanding and, perhaps, a glimmer of respect.

"Thank you, Cody," Obi-Wan replied, the tension that had coiled within him beginning to unwind. "Hearing that from someone with your expertise... it means more than you might realize."

As the day waned, casting long shadows across the vineyard, Obi-Wan and Cody found themselves seated on the worn stone bench beside the old water feature, now silent, its once cheerful babble reduced to a mere memory. The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves, a natural symphony that seemed to underscore the significance of their conversation.

Obi-Wan, with a slight hesitation born from years of guarding his private thoughts, began to share more of his past, the journey that had led him to this moment. "I wasn't always sure that this path was mine to walk," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the vineyard sprawling before them, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. "There was a time when the world seemed wide open with possibilities. I dreamed of exploring, of finding my own way. But when my father passed, the reality of what this land represents... it called me back. It's a legacy of not just land and wine, but of love and resilience. How could I turn my back on that?"

Cody listened intently, his own glass of wine forgotten in his hand. There was a depth to Obi-Wan's words, a sincerity that resonated with something deep within him. "I understand the weight of legacy," Cody responded, his voice softer than before. "I come from a military family. The expectation was always clear: serve with honor, uphold the family tradition. But I found my battleground in the world of wine, a different kind of challenge, yet one that's no less demanding."

Their eyes met, an unspoken acknowledgment passing between them. Here, in the quiet of the vineyard, their disparate paths had converged, revealing common ground in the pursuit of passion and the weight of expectations.

"The world of wine... it's more than a career for you, isn't it?" Obi-Wan asked, genuinely curious about the man who had, in a short time, become both a critic and an unexpected confidante.

Cody chuckled, a sound that seemed to carry with it layers of unspoken stories. "Yes, it's more. It's a quest, almost. A quest for perfection, for understanding. Each bottle tells a story, and I suppose I've become a collector of stories. But," he paused, a shadow crossing his expression, "it can be a solitary journey. The pursuit of perfection often comes at the cost of personal connections."

The confession hung between them, a shared vulnerability that bridged the gap of their previous professional distance. Obi-Wan felt a surge of empathy for Cody, recognizing the parallel loneliness in their pursuits.

"It seems we're both prisoners of our passions," Obi-Wan observed, his voice tinged with a newfound warmth. "But perhaps, in acknowledging that, we find a kind of freedom."

Cody nodded, the last rays of sunlight illuminating his features, casting them in a soft, almost ethereal light. "Perhaps you're right. And maybe, in sharing our stories, we lighten that load, even if just for a moment."

The conversation drifted then, from dreams to disappointments, from the wines they had loved to the ones that had eluded them. Each story, each shared piece of their past, wove a tapestry of understanding and respect between them. The vineyard, with its ancient vines and whispered secrets, served as the perfect backdrop for this exchange, a reminder that growth and renewal were possible, even from the deepest roots.

As the evening drew to a close, the stars began to twinkle in the velvet sky, a silent audience to the unfolding bond between two unlikely companions. The vineyard lay around them, a testament to the enduring power of land and legacy, but in that moment, it was the human connection, fragile and newly formed, that held the promise of the future.

As twilight deepened, casting a lavender hue over the sprawling expanse of Kenobi Vineyards, Obi-Wan and Cody found themselves ascending a gentle hill that offered a panoramic view of the land. The world around them was bathed in the soft afterglow of sunset, the vineyard below a quilt of shadows and fading light. Obi-Wan carried with him a bottle of the vineyard's oldest wine, its label worn but the contents within preserved, a liquid testament to the vineyard's storied past.

Reaching the summit, they paused, both men taking a moment to absorb the breathtaking vista that lay before them. The air was cool, carrying the scent of earth and growing things, the very essence of the vineyard itself. Obi-Wan uncorked the bottle with a practiced ease, the sound a soft pop in the quiet of the evening.

"This," Obi-Wan said, handing Cody a glass filled with the deep, ruby-red wine, "represents the best of what we've been. It's a bridge between the past and the future we're striving towards." His voice carried a reverence, a deep appreciation for the legacy he was part of.

Cody accepted the glass, his eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun. "To bridges," he toasted, the words an acknowledgment of the day's revelations and the unexpected connection that had formed between them.

As they sipped the wine, the silence that fell between them was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that had grown throughout the day. The wine was exceptional, its flavors complex and layered, a testament to the skill and care that had gone into its making.

It was Cody who broke the silence, his voice thoughtful. "I've spent so much time chasing the perfect story, the perfect bottle of wine, that I've often overlooked the stories unfolding right in front of me." He paused, a wistful note in his voice. "There are friendships I've neglected, moments I've missed. It's easy to forget that the pursuit of perfection shouldn't come at the expense of living."

Obi-Wan listened, the honesty of Cody's confession striking a chord within him. "I understand," he replied, his own voice tinged with regret. "I've been so consumed with saving this vineyard, proving myself worthy of my heritage, that I've isolated myself. I've forgotten what it's like to share this passion with someone who understands."

The admission hung in the air, a shared recognition of the personal costs of their dedication. But in that recognition, there was also a sense of relief, a lightening of burdens long carried alone.

Laughter soon followed, sparked by a humorous anecdote from Cody about a particularly disastrous wine tasting event. Obi-Wan joined in, the sound mingling with the night air, a release of tension and the joy of newfound camaraderie. They shared stories of their failures and triumphs, the absurdities and the moments of grace that marked their journeys in the world of wine.

As the evening wore on, the wine flowed freely, loosening tongues and opening hearts. The stars above seemed to draw nearer, witnesses to the deepening bond between two souls brought together by fate and a shared love for the vineyard's bounty.

Sitting on that hill, overlooking the land that was so much a part of Obi-Wan, he felt a shift within himself. The vineyard was no longer just a burden to be shouldered alone; it was a legacy to be shared, a source of connection and hope.

Cody, too, seemed transformed by the experience, his earlier skepticism replaced by a genuine respect and affection for the vineyard and the man who fought so valiantly to preserve it. In the shared laughter and confessions of regret, they found not just understanding but a sense of belonging, a recognition that their paths, however different, were intertwined in the story of Kenobi Vineyards.

As the bottle emptied and the night deepened, they remained on the hill, reluctant to end the moment. The vineyard lay quiet below, a testament to the enduring power of the land and the human spirit. And for Obi-Wan and Cody, the future seemed a little brighter, the weight of their respective burdens a little lighter, shared over a bottle of wine under the vast, starlit sky.

****

A few days after their momentous evening on the hill, the atmosphere at Kenobi Vineyards was charged with a new energy. The sun had just begun its ascent, casting a soft, golden light over the vineyard, promising another day of renewal and hard work. Obi-Wan was in the midst of inspecting the vines, lost in thought, when Cody approached him. The crisp morning air seemed to accentuate the seriousness of Cody's demeanor, a stark contrast to the relaxed camaraderie they had shared just nights before.

"Obi-Wan," Cody began, his voice cutting through the tranquility of the morning, "I've been thinking about your vineyard, about the conversation we had the other night, about legacy and passion."

Obi-Wan straightened, turning to face him, an intuitive sense of the conversation's direction taking root within him. "Yes?" he prompted, curiosity laced with a hint of apprehension coloring his tone.

Cody took a moment, surveying the vineyard with a contemplative gaze. "I believe there's something unique here, something worth preserving. But to convince others, to truly make them see the value of Kenobi Vineyards, you'll need to do more than just maintain the status quo."

The morning's serenity seemed to hang in balance as Cody's words sank in. Obi-Wan felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation stir within him. "What do you suggest?" he asked, his interest piqued.

Cody's expression was earnest, his conviction clear. "Create a new blend," he said, the challenge implicit in his words. "Something that encapsulates the essence of this place, a wine that tells the story of Kenobi Vineyards, its past, its present, and its future."

The proposal hung between them, bold and daunting. Obi-Wan felt the weight of the challenge settle upon him, a mingling of fear and exhilaration. "That's a tall order," he admitted, the magnitude of the task not lost on him. "But if it could help save the vineyard..."

Cody nodded, a supportive firmness in his gaze. "I believe it could do more than just help. It could redefine how the world sees Kenobi Vineyards. And I'll do everything in my power to support you, to ensure this blend gets the recognition it deserves."

The promise was generous, a lifeline thrown in the midst of uncertainty. Obi-Wan felt a surge of gratitude, tempered by the enormity of the task ahead. "It won't be easy," he said, a determined glint in his eye. "But I accept your challenge. For the vineyard, for my family's legacy, I'll create something truly special."

As Cody smiled, an unspoken agreement solidified between them. This was more than just a challenge; it was an opportunity for Obi-Wan to distill the essence of his heritage into a bottle, to craft a narrative as rich and complex as the wines he so lovingly produced.

In the days that followed, Obi-Wan threw himself into the creation of the new blend with a fervor that bordered on obsession. He experimented with different grape varietals, each selection a careful consideration of flavor profiles and historical significance. The process was exhaustive, a testament to Obi-Wan's dedication and Cody's unwavering support.

Cody, for his part, was a constant presence, offering insights, encouragement, and the occasional much-needed distraction. Together, they tasted and tested, debated and deliberated, their shared goal driving them forward.

The creation of the blend became a journey of discovery, not just of the perfect combination of flavors but of themselves. Obi-Wan, in seeking to capture the essence of the vineyard, found a deeper connection to his roots, a renewed sense of purpose. Cody, witnessing Obi-Wan's passion and dedication, gained a profound respect for the art of winemaking and the stories it could tell.

The process was not without its moments of doubt and frustration. There were blends that fell short, promising starts that ended in disappointment. But with each setback, their resolve only strengthened, their bond deepened by the shared pursuit of excellence.

When the final blend was poured, a harmonious union of the vineyard's finest grapes, it was more than just a wine; it was a tribute to Kenobi Vineyards' legacy, a symbol of hope for its future. The wine was complex, embodying the rich history of the land, the resilience of its people, and the promise of renewal.

As they stood together, tasting the fruits of their labor, Obi-Wan and Cody knew that they had created something extraordinary. The blend was not just a testament to their hard work but a declaration of the vineyard's enduring spirit.

Cody's promise to use his influence loomed large, a beacon of hope in the quest to secure the vineyard's legacy. Together, they had taken the first steps toward salvation, guided by passion, perseverance, and the unbreakable bonds forged in the heart of Kenobi Vineyards.

***

The journey to create Kenobi Vineyards' new signature blend unfolded like a tapestry woven from threads of tension, triumph, and the deepening bond between Obi-Wan and Cody. Each day brought with it a new set of challenges, moments of discord and harmony that mirrored the complexity of the wine they sought to create.

In the early days, the vineyard buzzed with a palpable energy, as Obi-Wan and Cody embarked on their shared mission. Mornings were spent in the fields, where Obi-Wan shared his intimate knowledge of each vine, each parcel of land. Cody, with his keen analytical mind, asked probing questions, pushing Obi-Wan to consider variables he had previously overlooked. These discussions often stretched into spirited debates, their contrasting perspectives clashing and melding in equal measure.

The afternoons were reserved for the alchemy of winemaking. The winery's lab became their sanctuary, a place where science and artistry intertwined. Obi-Wan, with his deep-rooted connection to the vineyard's traditions, introduced Cody to the nuances of fermentation and aging processes that had been passed down through generations. Cody, in turn, brought a fresh perspective, suggesting innovative techniques and blending strategies that challenged Obi-Wan's conventional wisdom.

This exchange of ideas was not without its moments of frustration. There were times when Obi-Wan's attachment to tradition seemed to stifle innovation, leading to heated exchanges that echoed off the stone walls of the winery. Cody's insistence on experimentation, while well-intentioned, sometimes felt like a disregard for the vineyard's heritage. These tensions, though, were the crucible in which their partnership was forged. With each disagreement, they learned to navigate their differences, finding common ground in their shared commitment to excellence.

The breakthrough came unexpectedly, on a late afternoon tinged with the golden hues of the setting sun. A particular blend, born from a combination of intuition and meticulous calculation, revealed itself to be more than just a sum of its parts. As they tasted, the layers of flavor unfolding on their palates, Obi-Wan and Cody shared a look of quiet amazement. Here, in this glass, was the essence of Kenobi Vineyards—its past, present, and future—captured in liquid form.

The moment was transformative, a turning point that solidified their partnership. Laughter and shared stories began to fill the spaces between their work, the vineyard echoing with the signs of their camaraderie. They celebrated their victories, no matter how small, with toasts of their evolving blend, each sip a reminder of the journey they had undertaken together.

As the blend matured, so too did their relationship. The mutual respect that had been forged in the fires of creativity and conflict deepened into a genuine friendship. Obi-Wan, once wary of change, found himself inspired by Cody's passion and insight. Cody, initially skeptical of the vineyard's potential, grew to admire Obi-Wan's dedication and the rich history of the land.

The montage of their efforts, a series of snapshots capturing late nights, early mornings, and endless tastings, was a testament to their journey. The tension that had once marked their interactions gave way to a rhythm, a seamless dance of give and take that propelled them toward their goal.

When the final blend was ready, it was more than just a new product for Kenobi Vineyards. It was a symbol of transformation—a testament to the power of collaboration, the blending of tradition with innovation, and the unexpected friendship that had flourished in the pursuit of a shared dream.

In the end, the creation of the blend was not just a triumph for Kenobi Vineyards but a milestone in the lives of Obi-Wan and Cody. Together, they had crafted something extraordinary, a wine that was a reflection of their journey, imbued with the essence of the land and the unbreakable bond they had formed.

****

The day of Cody's departure arrived with a quiet that seemed to envelop Kenobi Vineyards, a stillness that belied the turmoil of emotions churning within Obi-Wan. As they stood facing each other, the vineyard stretching out behind them, a landscape of memories and shared efforts, the air was thick with unspoken words and the poignant realization of a chapter closing.

"I'll start on the review as soon as I get back," Cody said, his voice steady but not without a hint of the reluctance that comes with parting. His gaze lingered on Obi-Wan, as if trying to imprint the moment, the man, and the land that had unexpectedly become a significant part of his life.

Obi-Wan nodded, his throat tight with a mix of gratitude and apprehension. "Thank you, Cody. For everything," he managed to say, the words heavy with the weight of all they had shared. "Your belief in this vineyard, in me, has changed more than I can express."

A brief smile flickered across Cody's face, a silent acknowledgment of the journey they had undertaken together. "It's been an honor, Obi-Wan. This place, your wine... it's something special. I'm just glad I got to be a part of it."

As Cody turned to leave, Obi-Wan felt a keen sense of loss, a void that went beyond the professional relationship they had developed. The realization that Cody's presence had become a cornerstone of not just the vineyard's revival but of his own personal growth was stark and unbidden.

In the days that followed, the vineyard seemed quieter, the absence of Cody's steady presence a constant reminder of the void. Obi-Wan threw himself into his work, each task a distraction from the uncertainty that loomed ahead. Yet, in the quiet moments, his mind wandered to Cody, to their conversations, the laughter, and the moments of shared vulnerability.

The waiting period stretched out, each day a test of patience and hope. Obi-Wan found himself reflecting on the depth of his feelings for Cody, feelings that had evolved from professional respect to a profound connection. The realization was startling, the acknowledgment of a bond that went beyond the vineyard, touching something deep within him.

Obi-Wan's introspection was not solely focused on Cody; it also turned inward, examining the changes within himself. The experience of creating the blend, of fighting for the vineyard's future alongside Cody, had reignited a passion he hadn't realized had dimmed. Cody had not only helped to save the vineyard but had also, in a way, saved him from the isolation and burden of his legacy.

The vineyard, too, seemed to be waiting, the vines standing tall and the leaves whispering in the wind, as if in anticipation of what was to come. It was a time of transition, of endings and new beginnings, and Obi-Wan felt the weight of it all, a blend of hope and fear for the future.

When the review finally arrived, it was with a mixture of excitement and dread that Obi-Wan opened it. Cody's words leapt off the page, a testament to their efforts, praising not only the quality of the wine but the spirit and passion behind its creation. It was more than Obi-Wan had dared to hope for, a recognition of the vineyard's potential and of their journey together.

As he stood in the vineyard, the review in hand, Obi-Wan felt a sense of peace settle over him. The future was still uncertain, the challenges ahead daunting, but in that moment, there was a sense of completion, of a circle closed. Cody's departure had left a void, but it had also left Obi-Wan with a deeper understanding of himself, of his capacity for connection and change.

The vineyard thrived, bolstered by the success of the new blend and the acclaim it received. And as Obi-Wan walked among the vines, he knew that Cody's influence would linger, a part of the land and of him, a reminder of the power of collaboration, friendship, and the courage to embrace the unknown.

****

Several weeks had passed since Cody's review had been published, casting a newfound spotlight on Kenobi Vineyards and its exceptional new blend. The vineyard, once teetering on the edge of obscurity, now buzzed with the energy of potential and promise. In this time of burgeoning hope, Obi-Wan found himself often wandering the vineyard at dusk, his thoughts invariably drifting to Cody. The impact of Cody's words had been profound, not just on the vineyard but on Obi-Wan himself, stirring a blend of emotions and unanswered questions that lingered like the fragrance of grapes on the evening air.

It was on one such evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of pink and gold, that Cody returned. Obi-Wan, lost in thought among the vines, didn't notice his approach until he was nearly upon him. The sight of Cody, back in the vineyard, sent a jolt through him, a mix of surprise and an inexplicable sense of rightness.

"Cody," Obi-Wan began, his voice betraying his surprise. "What brings you back to Kenobi Vineyards?"

Cody's gaze held a depth of emotion that Obi-Wan hadn't seen before. "I came to see you," he said, his voice steady but imbued with an undercurrent of something more, something deeper. "Your vineyard, the wine we created, your passion... it left an impression on me, one I couldn't shake."

The confession hung between them, a tangible presence in the twilight. Obi-Wan felt a stirring within him, a hopeful blossoming at Cody's words, yet he remained silent, prompting Cody to continue.

"In writing the review, in trying to capture the essence of what you've built here, I realized something," Cody said, taking a step closer. "It wasn't just the vineyard that inspired me. It was you, Obi-Wan. Your dedication, your belief in the legacy of this place... it changed me."

The admission was like the turning of a key, unlocking something within Obi-Wan that he had dared not acknowledge even to himself. The realization of Cody's feelings, mirrored against his own, was overwhelming and yet, undeniably right.

"Cody, I—" Obi-Wan started, his own emotions surfacing, raw and unguarded.

Cody reached out, a gesture of connection that bridged the distance between them. "I don't know what the future holds," he said, his voice laced with earnestness. "But I do know that I don't want to face it without you. These past weeks, being away, it made me realize how much I've come to care for you, beyond the vineyard, beyond the wine."

The confession, so openly and honestly delivered, resonated with Obi-Wan, echoing his own unspoken feelings. The vineyard around them, with its vines and soil, had been a witness to their growing connection, a foundation upon which something deeper had been built.

"Cody, your presence here, your belief in me, in the vineyard... it's given me more than just hope for this place," Obi-Wan said, his voice imbued with a mixture of vulnerability and strength. "It's given me hope for something more, something I hadn't allowed myself to consider."

As they stood there, in the fading light, the vineyard seemed to hold its breath, a silent observer to the unfolding moment. The confession of their feelings, the acknowledgment of the bond that had formed between them, was a new beginning, a promise of possibilities yet to be explored.

Cody smiled, a genuine expression that lit up his features, dispelling the shadows of the evening. "Then let's face the future together," he said, his hand still extended, an invitation for Obi-Wan to take.

Obi-Wan reached out, his hand clasping Cody's, a physical manifestation of their emotional connection. In that touch, there was an understanding, a commitment to whatever lay ahead, forged in the heart of Kenobi Vineyards but transcending it, a blend of two souls united by passion, dedication, and now, love.

The vineyard, with its endless rows of vines and the promise of growth and renewal, stood as a testament to their journey. It was a reminder that even the most unlikely of soils could nurture something extraordinary, something lasting. Together, Obi-Wan and Cody stepped into the future, their path illuminated by the stars above, hearts full of hope and the vineyard whispering its blessings on the wind.

****

In the weeks following Cody's return and his heartfelt confession, Kenobi Vineyards began to flourish in a way that it hadn't for years. The impact of Cody's review, coupled with the unveiling of their collaborative wine blend, had drawn attention from far and wide. Wine enthusiasts, critics, and curious locals alike flocked to the vineyard, eager to taste the wine that had captured the heart of one of the industry's most respected figures.

Obi-Wan and Cody, now united in both their personal and professional lives, watched this transformation with a sense of awe and gratitude. The vineyard, which had once been a symbol of struggle and isolation for Obi-Wan, had become a bustling hub of activity and growth. The once quiet tasting room was now filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation, the air rich with the scent of wine being poured and enjoyed.

As they walked through the vineyard one crisp morning, the dew still fresh on the vines, Obi-Wan couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had brought them to this point. "I never imagined," he began, his voice filled with wonder, "that the vineyard could come back to life like this. It feels like we've created something new, something vibrant out of the ashes of the past."

Cody, walking beside him, squeezed Obi-Wan's hand gently. "We did," he agreed, his gaze sweeping over the rows of thriving vines. "But it's more than just the vineyard that's been reborn. We've started a new chapter, too, one that's just beginning."

The significance of Cody's words resonated deeply with Obi-Wan. The vineyard's revival was indeed a powerful metaphor for their own blossoming relationship. Each new bud on the vines, each bottle of wine that found its way into the hands of an appreciative drinker, mirrored the growth and deepening of their bond.

Their days were filled with a blend of hard work and moments of shared joy. They consulted on every decision, from the nuances of vine care to the development of new wine varieties, each step forward a testament to their combined strengths and visions. The success of the vineyard had become inseparable from the story of their partnership, a tangible representation of what they could achieve together.

The community around them took notice, drawn not only by the quality of the wine but by the story of renewal and love that had come to define Kenobi Vineyards. Obi-Wan and Cody found themselves at the center of a network of friends and supporters, their lives enriched by the connections that grew from the soil of the vineyard.

In the evenings, after the day's work was done and the last visitor had departed, they would often find themselves back on the hill overlooking the vineyard. With a bottle of their blend between them, they watched the sunset, the sky ablaze with colors that mirrored the hues of their wines.

"These moments," Cody would say, his voice soft with contentment, "they're a reminder of what's truly important. Not just the wine or the vineyard, but us, this life we're building together."

Obi-Wan, leaning into Cody's side, felt a profound sense of peace in these moments. The challenges and uncertainties of the future seemed manageable, as long as they faced them together. The vineyard, thriving under their care, was more than just a place of business; it was a home, a symbol of their love and partnership.

As the stars began to twinkle in the twilight sky, Obi-Wan and Cody knew that they had found something rare and beautiful. Kenobi Vineyards, with its rows of vines and bottles filled with the essence of the land, was a testament to their journey. It stood as a beacon of hope, resilience, and the power of love to transform the hardest of soils into a place of abundance and life.

Together, they faced the future with open hearts, ready to embrace whatever challenges and joys it might bring. Kenobi Vineyards, once on the brink of fading away, was now a symbol of their shared future, flourishing and alive with possibility.

Likes and comments are always welcome.

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wisefoxluminary · 9 months

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Dean is staring out into the heavenly night, leaning against the impala as his mind is conflicted. He had been fighting for so long. Now that he had died, there was still work to be done. He had to do anything he could to repair the fraught universe, to ensure that nothing can interfere with Sam's happiness. He wanted Sam to live out the life he always wanted. He wanted to do all the work that needed to be done if he wanted to achieve peace with his family. But deep down, one thing was troubling him, a lingering wish that burned bright in his heart. He would give everything to see Castiel again, the angel who had risked everything for him. He had done everything in his willpower to keep Dean safe, he gave up his blind faith to serve Dean in his cause. Dean had changed Cas for the better. He made him feel like he was human, a feeling he had been longing for ever since he first stepped foot on the holy earth. After so many years of sacrifice and kinship, it was the goodbye that hurt the most. Castiel had gave his life to the darkness to save Dean, the man he loved. The words I Love You were forever engraved on his heart. He wished he could turn back the clock and say everything he needed to say, to unearth the buried feelings he had kept under suppression. He needed to see Cas, no matter what trials he had to accomplish to be under the angel's warm embrace again. Now that Cas was in heaven, maybe Dean could repair the pieces that had crumbled that last night on earth, to address what was left unspoken. It happened so fast that Dean couldn't even save him, he just watched as he slipped away into the dark abyss. Everyone he lost, disappeared from him like a flash of light. Now that he was fighting for peace, he could right every wrong in his past. Cas was one of them and he needed to see him again. He had saved his parents, that was one thing on his list checked out. Saying what he needed to say to Cas was the next thing to mark off.

Dean could feel a presence making its way towards him, like the great powers of heaven were keeping his spirit guarded. Jack was behind him.

Jack: Are you alright Dean, you seem troubled?

Jack was the only source of comfort Dean needed right now. He sighs, unwilling to keep his emotions bottled up anymore.

Dean: You once told me there'll be peace when I'm done. I've been this world's beholden anchor for so long. I won't rest until the sun sets on my hunter's legacy. But there's one thing I need to make up for....and that's for never saying a proper goodbye.

Jack watches Dean with a coy smile, reading the feeling of longing on his face. He knows exactly what he's thinking.

Jack: I know how you feel Dean. Cas misses you with all his heart. He tries his best to stay strong, but he can't help but watch over you in heaven's pale light. He did this all for you.

Dean: Watching from a distance is a pain in the ass. Is there a way....I can speak to him? I need to see him Jack.

Jack: Don't worry Dean, I can arrange that. Just hold tight.

Jack's eyes begin to glow a faint blue as Dean watches in astonishment.

Jack: You will feel nothing. My power will take you to where you most desire to be.

Jack puts a hand on Dean's forehead as the world around him is engulfed in heavenly, blinding light. Dean opens his eyes to find himself in a calming abyss, an ancient tapestry of a restored heaven as there was a majestic garden surrounding him. Everything around him was drenched in phosphorescence as it was like he had been transported to the most purest part of heaven. It wasn't what Dean expected but here he was, waiting for his angel to return.

Castiel: Hello Dean...

Dean turns around to see Castiel standing there in the heavenly light, a worn smile on his face. He looked like he never changed. He was still the same man from the night the darkness swallowed him. The same man who fought by his side for countless decades. The man who professed his love in a time of great desperation. Looking at Cas's brown trench coat and blue eyes was like time had stopped, like nothing had gone by for Castiel since he had sacrificed his life that day in the bunker. Dean had changed, he was a different man now that he was dead. But seeing Cas was enough to remind him that his humanity was still within him.

Dean could feel tears prickle at his eyes as he went in to hug Castiel, something he had been longing for ever since he lost him all those years ago.

Dean: I missed you buddy....

Castiel could sense the sadness in Dean's mind, of how he missed him so desperately. It didn’t matter if separation kept them apart, they would always find one another again.

Castiel: I never thought I'd see you again Dean....

Dean: Well life happens, what can I say.

Dean pulls away from Cas's embrace as he admires the heavenly sight before him.

Dean: So you became all high and mighty? I'm loving the place by the way. Suits you.

Castiel, smiling: Ever since Jack rescued me from the empty, I stood by his side as I helped him rebuild the gates of heaven. I bask in the light and watch as I ensure the the universe is perfectly balanced. There are worlds born anew who still need a protector. This world needed an omniscient being to watch over it. Heaven is a station of peace thanks to Jack's power. I have been helping him keep an eye on things. Especially you Dean. I still have great purpose to carry out before my work is done, but I can assure you, I will be at peace once again.

Dean: I'm doing all of this for Sammy. There is still so much work to be done before I can find peace with him. Until the universe is safe from all evil, I'll get my time to rest.

Castiel: You are a strong man Dean, I have hope your love will conquer this great tide of evil. You always feel like you have to keep fighting. You will carry on fighting. That is who you'll always be. You are a man who uses love as his great power.

Dean bows his head down nervously, pondering what to say. This was probably the only chance he had to speak his mind. To tell Cas how he truly felt.

Dean: Cas, there's a reason I'm here...what I wanted to say....what I needed to say....

Castiel: Dean....

Dean: I never got to say goodbye. You are the one thing I need to find forgiveness for and this is my only chance to say it...I love you Cas, I always have.

Castiel stares at him in shock, it wasn't something he expected to hear. He had often dreamed of this moment, he always wondered what Dean would have said if they had gotten one more minute together. There was no barrier keeping them apart any longer. Time wasn't stopping them. This was Dean's chance to say what he felt, to answer Cas's last prayer.

Dean: There's not one moment of the day where I can't stop thinking about you. I wish things were different. I wish I listened to you and held your hand all the way. I should have faced that darkness with you. You saved my life that day, and a part of me....a part of me wishes I went with you. After that, I never stopped loving you. I kept fighting for you. I may be making the afterlife into my own rodeo for Sammy, but you have always been there. I can't find peace unless you're in it. So I love you Cas. I always will. If I have to stay in this moment with you forever, I will do it. So if there's one thing I'm gonna set right here and now, it'll be with you Cas. I'm with you to the very end.

Castiel: I did this all for you, Dean. I couldn't help but feel distracted from my seraphic duties. But there's one person I look to - and that's you Dean. I have watched the noble things you have done. What you did to save your parents. It just shows how much of a good man you truly are. So when my work is done, I will spend every moment I have with you. I will stand by your side until my name is forever written on your heart.

Castiel felt a lump grow in his throat as his wildest dreams were coming to light. Dean loved him unconditionally and this was the only chance he had to tell him. He couldn't fight with his feelings anymore as Castiel and Dean kiss under the divine light. It was warm and tender, the world around them melting away as it was just them and their passionate love. Cas was left stunned as he didn't expect to experience affection quite like this, especially from a Winchester. This was everything Dean had wanted to do for so long, as each kiss healed his worn scars. He caressed the angel's face, trying to remember how his mellow skin felt in his hands. He couldn't believe the land he was walking on. He had found forgiveness and love in Castiel, something he thought was unattainable. Dean had never felt more happy in his life. He and Castiel were more than friends now. They were everything to each other.

They move away from the kiss, the breath taken out of each of them. Castiel rests his forehead against Dean's as he can't believe his luck. Tears shed down his face as his feelings were finally reciprocated.

Castiel: What happens now?

Dean bows his head down lowly, still leaning against Cas's forehead. He tries to find the words.

Dean: I've got work to do. The universe needs saving, and I can't do it alone. I need you Cas, I need a partner.

Castiel placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, looking him in the eye sincerely.

Castiel: Then I will stand with you until the very end.

Dean is grateful to have Cas on his side, to have the angel's love as his shield. He can't help but feel a pull towards Cas's eyes, lost in their winesome fidelity. He holds Cas in his arms, deep down knowing that he'll always have his back.

Dean: One last hunt

Castiel: One last hunt

Dean holds Cas tight in his arms as he is so relieved to have his lost lover at his side again. He found atonement being in the angel's company and now he needed him more than ever. He nestles his head against Cas's shoulder, burying himself into his embrace as he wished he could stay like this with him, to dance among the heavenly light. As the luminousity engulfed them, Dean knew that he would always carry this memory with him. Dean will always have Castiel by his side...

#supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #destiel fanfic #short ficlet #angst #love confessions #set post the winchesters #destiel reunion #dean misses cas #cas misses dean #reunited in the afterlife

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stocky2016 · 6 months

Text

"Lost Generation";

Young warriors of the derelict streets, don't crouch and hide

stand up tall, with pride, though your future others decide.

Where politics and religion seem inextricably complicated

fight for freedom and the aspiration of one day being liberated.

No more time for propaganda debate, the war's here to stay,

the cost of the fight is so high, but you of course, must pay;

Explosions replace the sound of laughter and song,

but you must hang on to the naive hope of discovering right from wrong.

Nowhere to run, or play, now that the future looks so uncertain

trying to keep heads held high, or hiding behind a convenient curtain.

Our courage has to grow each day, our damaged souls we must assuage

whilst we fight for what is right, and try our crumbling tomorrows to massage.

What ever happened to the i"innocence of childhood..."

the fairytale nightmares of trolls giants and monsters?

They've morphed into destructive fighting-machines

which shell and destroy, all that as youngsters, once considered Divine.

The path that you now seem to tread, is littered with despair,

your peace of mind scrambled by fear and despair;

No home to go to, no safe haven or nutritious meal in sight

You're stuck in mid-struggle, of this fateful plight.

The wounds life can bring, have bled and then scar so deep,

never disappearing, no matter how long we mourn or weep;

The cruelty of 'growing awareness" won't heal, only it seems, "repeat"

but time will tell how indelible they make your spiritual defeat.

You flee from the past and day-to-day strife,

It seems with no way out of this hell and with no means of relief;

There seems no escape from the agonising struggles and pain,

you can't revert back to our past lives so blissfully unstained.

This generation of yours, is, so it seems, denied a voice,

pushed aside in life, left without any great choice;

It just continues to augment the chorus of sorrow and screams,

this is the legacy of the "Lost Generation" or so it seems.

G.P.S. 16th November 2023

Graphics "borrowed" from my esteemed friend Waqas Malik)

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thesimpsbasement · 1 year

Note

Event prompt for Mod Betty! "For years I have yearned for you, in secrecy and silence" with Jean Descole? 👉👈

•Prompt #20: "For years i have yearned for you, in secrecy and silence”

•100 Followers Event [closed]

•Tags/warnings: Azran Legacy spoilers( actual names used in the beginning),childhood friends trope,not proofreaded yet

_______________________

You've known Hershel since he was a kid.Often times you,him and Theodore would always play outside till it was time to go back home.You always liked Hershel,he was a caring older brother who would do anything to make sure his loved ones were happy.You always admired him and thanks to that you've grown close to the boy. However this friendship wasn't going to last long. Hershel stopped showing up to your usual hanging out spot. You were devastated to learn about his situation,no,that's an understatement, you lost your closest friends in the blink of an eye just like that.It's not like you could've done anything about it,so you just moved on or at least that's what others thought.You still missed then,you were hoping to meet at least one of them and it seems like luck was on your side , because you met him,Hershel Layton.

At first you were confused since he seemed to resemble Theodore rather than Hershel but you just assumed that your memory was playing games on you,so you didn't asleep him about it.Being determined to find him,your closest friend,you asked him if you can be his assistant,you knew that maybe because he traveled around the world that maybe,just maybe you could find him,and seems like your line of logic was right because you saw him,Desmond Sycamore who later revealed himself as Jean Descole.

You didn't exactly have time to question him,as you were all too busy to stop Leon from reviving the Azrans but it was too late,the damage had been done.But actually there was still hope,as long as everyone sacrificed themselves, there's hope for the world to remain on tact.so you all did just that.

After Aurora revived everyone the ship you were all in began to crumble as Aurora was slowly disappearing,it was a painful goodbye but you knew it was necessary.You all jumped out of the ship and landed safely on the ground somehow but you noticed that Descole was already away from the group.He turned around and gave a smirk and turned back and started to walk away.You weren't going to let him get away,you jumped on the crumbled stone he was standing on,determined to catch up with him "____ where are you going!" Hershel yelled, noticing your change of location, " I gotta catch up with him! You go without me! I'll be fine" you shout back ,Hershel ,now remember who you were,knew he couldn't convince you to stay so he nodded and as soon as he did you made a run for it.

What felt like an eternity, you finally saw him,he was about to board his ship! " WAIT!" You yell stopping to catch your breath.He turns around surprised to see you "You…What do you want?" He asks walking to you " I- you can't just run away like that you know" you say finally looking at him " What are you trying to say?" He asks again " You can't just run away from my life only to come back and then leave again!" You yell,face contorting into sadness. Leaving you? Oh.

" _____" he said "You didn't think I'd forget you did you?" " What do you mean?" You ask,with a confused look on your face " Truth is.." He said,gripping your hands in his " For years I have yearned for you,in secrecy and silence " he declared, cheeks slightly flushed " But I knew before I had to search for you I'd have to finish this mission,but it looks like you're the one that ended up finding me" he says taking one of his hands from yours and placing it on your cheek." Oh Jean" is the only thing you say before placing your own hand on his cheek just like he did,and in silent agreement you closed the gap between the 2 of you.

That kiss made you both feel alive again,finally finding the man you've been searching for all this time. Finally both your hearts are at ease now.

#100 followers event #fanfiction #fanfic #professor layton x reader #jean descole x reader #x gn reader #gn reader

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massive-lesbian · 2 years

Text

DAY 14!!! (spoilers for fate of ten. Character Death)

I fucked up. I knew that as soon as the blaster shot slammed into my back and released an excruciating pain that rippled through me like a blazing fire. She shouldn’t have picked me up and moved us behind that pile of rubble.

She should’ve let me die there. She should’ve let me meet my demise right there. Should’ve let me become martyred. But, no she saved me. As that fiendish abomination, Phiri Dun-Ra, bolted out of the dense jungle into view she released a flurry of blaster fire at the approaching mog squadron. She soon hunkered down next to me to avoid the furor of blaster-fire that flew towards us.

Marina was Ra’s next victim. He was posted at the top of the crater and Marina desperately tried to fire the deadly, frigid ice from her dainty yet lethal hands. But nothing came out as she jutted them forwards. She was ripped up into the air by Ra’s telekinetic grasp. We screamed out to her but it was no use. She couldn’t hear us over the sonorous blaster attack aimed at us.

We could only watch on in horror as she was bludgeoned into the ground. Her body went limp as he thrust her back into the air and slammed her down again and again. It’s Mark who saves her. He bolts towards Ra with a blaster and shoots the mog leader right in the gory, bloodstained hole in the side of his head where his ear once was. Ra sends Marina’s body hurtling towards Mark as he shouts out in fury and pain. Adam sprints towards Mark and Marina and helps him pick up her limp, broken body. They retreat to the jungle carrying Marina with them.

I see Ra stumbling to the Anubis. I can’t let him get away. I will not let him get away from me unscathed. I start to force myself to stand upright but she starts to grasp me trying to stop me from doing what I need to do. Trying to stop me from meeting my fate so soon. She screams into my ear that “It’s all over!” But, I can’t accept that. I will not accept that. We are so close to victory she can’t stop me now. So close to freedom. So close to the release from this horrific, gory war. I need to do this for her for Katarina.

I force myself to step out from the cover of rubble and I splay my hands out in front of me trying to compel my legacies to work. I power through the ache in my hands and battle the wind to bend to my will. I use the wind to throw shrapnel and debris at Ra landing as many hits as I physically can to his body.

She tries to stop me and drag me away from this warfare but I can’t stop. I need to end this right now. But she still stays at my side returning a volley of blaster fire at the approaching mogs screaming that “this is suicide!” But I refuse to listen. I refuse to stand down like a coward.

I’m hit by unidentifiable parts of shrapnel and debris. I do not care though. I surge forward and then it happens. Setrakus Ra stumbles to his knees as a long piece of shrapnel from a skimmer sticks out of his chest. Directly through the heart. He is rushed aboard the Anubis as I too crumble to my knees. I feel the stream of tears collapsing off my face. She wraps her arms around me and drags me towards the jungle in her sweltering grasp.

There’s so much blood and I cannot bear to see it. I turn us invisible fading from view of anything that may be watching. She only gets halfway towards the ship before her grip falters and she collapses releasing me from her tight grasp. I go to pick her up but pause. I didn’t do that…

Did I?

A huge, gaping hole in her midsection. A chunk of debris must’ve torn it straight from her body. I did that…

Didn’t I?

I choke on my breath and try to hold a sob. She won’t last long. She’ll surely die because of me. Surely she will. I drag her back to the ship as quick as I can with my injuries and hustle her onto the first cot I see.

Moments later Mark is violently shaking Marina’s broken body begging her to do something screaming at her to “Wake the fuck up and heal her!” Adam barges Mark into a wall shouting at him to stop shaking Marina as he may kill her. Lexa is shouting at me from the cockpit. She wants to know what is going on. But I can’t talk. I just can’t.

The chaos around us doesn’t affect her. She looks so peaceful but so pale. MY hands are slick and dripping with her blood. It just keeps pouring from her. It won’t stop. I clutch at her gaping wound even though I know it won’t do anything. I just feel as though I must do something. I feel so utterly useless.

She speaks to John on my satellite phone she tells him that she doesn’t have long. That’s my fault. I should be the one dying not her. She didn’t deserve to be dragged into this horrifying war. She doesn’t deserve to die because of me.

I’m caked in her blood. It’s everywhere. MY hands, MY clothes, all over ME. She tells John she loves him. I never got to tell her how I truly felt for her. I love HER. I wanted to be with her and now she’s being ripped away from us. All because of me.

How can I live with this burden? The burden of her death. John will despise me for this. He will hate me and he knows it’s my fault. My fault his true love was killed. The phone suddenly clatters to the ground and I know that she’s gone. She’s gone because of me. I still clutch at her wound and neck.

Sarah Hart’s eyes fall shut with a snap.

She’s gone because of me.

#Lorien Legacies #lorien #loric #Loric Garde #13yearsoflorien #lorictober #october 2022 #number six #six #maren elizabeth #sarah #Sarah Hart #sixrah #number four #john smith #one sided love #still not over this death fr #my girl sarah deserved better </3

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zephirite · 2 years

Text

C!Wilbur, the Tragic Perfectionist

This meta is inspired by this fic by

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32491030/chapters/80581537

I’m analyzing c!Wilbur in the context of him being an anxious perfectionist (not because his cc has anxiety) because it contextualizes his drastic actions in an interesting—albeit tragic—light.

So us perfectionists are very extreme on everything we do. Either we put 100% in or 0%, and this makes us very nervous about tackling anything because it’s all a challenge. Goes double for creative folk. It’s a never ending game of proving yourself—to yourself, and the world. You live and die by your own standards, and are constantly aware and anxious about failing. Your work is your worth.

If L’Manburg is Wilbur’s unfinished symphony, his magnum opus, life’s work, he put it on a pedestal. Not an innocent one (it was clear from his first drug scam that Wil had no intention of L’Manburg being legitimate), but his archetype and embodiment/product of that perfectionism.

Perfection, however, is unattainable, and Wil sought the rush of that perfectionism, and his anxiety around losing it (especially since it gave him a community and gradually increased in power and notoriety through the wars against the DSMP) increased. Power built his tower higher so he had farther to fall.

L’Manburg (as in the fic) was Wil’s validation. His legacy. It’s perfection would outlast him, and legitimize all the horrid schemes and sacrifices (Tommy’s disks and everyone’s deaths, whose guilt eats up Wil and propels him into ensuing they’re worth it, compensating them by showing love through creation of a safe haven).

Gradually realizing through the elections that he was slipping caused Wil to latch even harder to that unreachable icon of perfection, power, and safety.

Wilbur’s feigned overconfidence was too potent for a man who thinks of everything—it was an explosive cocktail denial and hubris, that fueled his competition with Quackity.

Which is why he was so nervous, and hid his fear. Because to a perfectionist, if you’re only as good as your work, a slip in quality is all it takes for everyone’s love to crumble.

So when he’s banished, it’s the worst-case scenario he’s been dreading ever since he developed an attachment—a country—to begin with.

Not only was Wilbur run out, but his very creation rejected him. The ultimate perfectionist’s nightmare. Wilbur was at 100%—the highest of highs—and now, he’s at low point. He’s hit the zero.

Now Tommy, was okay. Obviously traumatized, but he cares about people than what they stood for. This is where Crimeboys differ; Wilbur focuses on the meaning behind the flag, and Tommy befriends the people holding it up. He and L’Manburg’s people didn’t bother calling out Wil seizing power because he was the only one who cared about recognition. They all just wanted community. Wilbur ruling was his way of loving them, something his son suffered from. (“Wilbur wanted to give Fundy the world, but all he wanted was his dad.”)

To Tommy, they were okay because the L’Manburg that mattered to him—the people—were all alive. They’d reunite, because the fictional, intangible countries can’t keep them apart. But to Wil, the idealistic purities of those countries were the relationships. What people stood for—none of it mattered if you couldn’t justify your survival through embodying those ideals.

The quote “anything worth doing is worth doing poorly” baffled my perfectionist brain. Meaning, ‘it’s better to stand outside for ten minutes when a walk seems impossible. It’s better to wash your face when you can’t get the energy to shower.’ Little things.

Perfectionists don’t work like that. To not put the effort into a full shower is not worth it, because our reward comes from the mental challenge, the switch, the “I said I’m gonna do this and I will.” If it’s not hard, it’s not worth it.

L’Manburg was not worth ‘doing poorly.’ It’s better the ideas it stood for die with it, then live on as some perverted, zombified shell of their former self. Because that’s what Wilbur would’ve been if he won L’Manburg back.

He can’t handle L’Manburg hating him, and it being anything less than perfect. The illegitimacy of a hostile re-takeover will forever sully the country. No longer can they claim it’s the beacon of democracy and freedom that it was founded on. They’ve dishonored the very treaties that made L’Manburg what it was. No longer can Wilbur justify his actions, now that the haven they created is hostile.

That’s what Wilbur meant by “the thing I worked towards—doesn’t exist anymore.”

(Maybe he even realized his own hypocrisy by rigging the elections and his whole view of even the pre-election times collapsed.)

Wilbur worked toward a perfectly just nation. If it’s even an ounce of corrupt (by his standards), it’s not worth it.

Without the result, the ends can’t justify the means.

Wilbur worked towards perfection, freedom, a utopia. And now that the principals that justified the bloodshed and corruption are broken…he can never look that nation—nor it’s people—in the eye again.

L’Manburg is no longer prefect. And in the mind of a perfectionist…

….It must be perfect, or it must be destroyed.

#dream smp #wilbur soot #dream smp meta #cwilbur #dream smp analysis #lmanburg #L’Manburg #wilbur and tommy

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sherbovania · 1 year

Text

post-tragedy hellspire and the empire of dirt; or what to do after the apocalypse

a handful of notes about what happened after ego escaped since i figured that's kind of a huge historical event and the aftermath should be fleshed out more

well first off this place fucking sux now that ego's gone and ran thru it. sure we were able to recapture it and put it in stasis but it caused the river styx to fucking rise so now everything's flooded and everything is decaying. it looks like the end of evangelion out here

we gotta start making earthquake-proof buildings brah. we also gotta tighten the grip of the government "to make sure this doesn't happen again" even though it was literally done by one guy in the ruling class and nobody else (we are about to slowly descend into authoritarianism)

there’s a grand temple deep underground in the center of the hellspire from which the river styx flows, one of the only pieces of architecture left standing after the apocalypse. it’s become living in a sense, cataloguing every piece of data and memory that exists in hell. it served as a bomb shelter and holds contingency plans for the next apocalypse, downstream in the 9th circle is another temple directly accessible from the river where the plans can be put into action. this temple holds sacrifices to ego and shrine maidens chosen to inherit its power lest it ever escape again.

said contingency/prevention measures require each of lucifer’s original children to have an heir/next of kin to take their position and powers in case they die, and have them present nearly 24/7. desire has not disclosed who her heir is, but it’s all but confirmed that it’s sami. dimitri deliberately does not have an heir as he is both a narc and hates himself and believes his legacy + kingdom should die with him.

all of lucy’s children were gifted enhancements to their magical abilities. in specific, the eldest three (not counting ego) were given the ability to wield the elements, giving them the titles of prince of the raging wave (apophis), king of the endless sands (dimitri) and wretched king of thunder (raphael) respectively.

the apocalypse has created a new breed of annihilationist doomsday cultists, believing that the next escape should be the end of all things. they are insistent on eliminating all known heirs to lucifer and his children so that when they inevitably die at the hands of ego, the hellspire will crumble away with them and demonkind will draw its last breath.

there's probably more but i forgot to mention it bc this is just shit comin off da top of my brain

#loreposting #oubliette metro

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sleepyowlwrites · 2 years

Text

find the word tag CCCLIV

hey I drank most of my peppermint tea before it got cold. your complimentary music rec is The Ancestor by Darlingside. @blind-the-winds @akindofmagictoo (oh no, two more blue friends)

solid (death story)

"What is it?"

Din grabs Lawrence's arm and holds it up, where the crimson miasma is still clinging to his skin. "It's you, Ren. It's all of us. It's what we are if we're not still people. Are you a person? Do you believe that?"

Lawrence has taken in a lot in the last whatever period of not-time he's been here, in this cavernous void. His body isn't fully solid and he's dead. But Din is so serious, so Lawrence takes stock. Whatever is happening to him physically, he knows his own mind.

somber

sorry (the sleepy stash)

Jamie found Nathan with blood on his hands and knees, lying beside a battered bicycle and one shoe in the middle of the road.

“Lean on me,” was what Jamie said, but what she meant was I wish you wouldn’t get hurt so often.

“Thanks, Jamie,” was what Nathan said, but what he meant was I’m sorry I did it again.

slip (city story d0)

Rune’s fingers slip underneath the palm of his hand. They don’t grip, but just stay there, and it’s enough.

It’s everything.

song (the sleepy stash)

but there is an aching beauty in the way you paint the paper, in the way your legacy is the shame of you but the glory of others. maybe it was not your choice to make enemies of mountains but you have the heart and mind enough to stand on peaks and not crumble from the claws that eat you from the inside. the weight never fades but you refuse to stay the same, and as the edge of the world beckons, again, you will not remain. you must wander, even as you never belong. but this was never meant to be your temple. you exist only in song.

spell (city story d0)

“Cloud?”

Rune instantly tenses up, slowly pivoting as she notices the other person hovering next to them. A series of emotions run across her face and Jet doesn’t like any of them.

“What are you doing here, Cam?” Her tone is somewhere between freezing and searing.

It sends unpleasant ripples down Jet’s spine. His gut says this guy spells trouble, even if his face appears completely innocent. Jet sets his helmet down, stuffing his keys into his pocket. When he steps closer to Rune, she also moves slightly toward him.

spear

spin (beating hearts, 2021)

Wu Xie and Pangzi have come to a stop up ahead, debating which way to turn. Liu Sang automatically pivots to the right, following the way the rushing sound leads - he’s pretty sure it’s water: a river, deep underground. A hand catches his jacket hood and Liu Sang jerks away from it.

When he spins around, sheepish at his response, the trouble trio is looking curiously at him, their gazes all carrying the same questions, ones that Liu Sang will refuse to answer if they ask them. No, he’s not alright, but he certainly doesn’t want to tell them so. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t need to, either, which doesn’t help his mood.

Thankfully, and perhaps surprisingly, it’s his ouxiang who has the most tact when he only asks, “What is it?”

Liu Sang moves his hand toward the direction he’d been about to turn. “There’s water down there.”

spike (resilience, reliance, 2022)

“Ungrateful brat! Who’s carried you through a tomb, huh? Who checks to make sure your fridge is stocked with groceries? Who took very good care of you while you spiked a fever from your injuries?”

Wu Xie pats Pangzi’s arm. “Calm down. Speaking of fever, I believe he still has one.”

Pangzi immediately switches from enraged to caretaker, and Liu Sang can’t help how comforting it is to have a large hand rest on his forehead and sweep stray strands of hair back from his face. He doesn’t want to enjoy it but that’s pretty stupid, if he thinks about it for more than a second.

take, turn, tower, teach. BONUS: temper, tackle. @ettawritesnstudies @papercutsunset @rodentwrites @goldentangerines @circa-specturgia @crypticcodexcreations @on-noon OR ANYBODY

#find the word tag #searching circle #alliteration agency

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emchant3d · 2 years

Note

Can I have more thots on Maroon being a Steddie song pls?

I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED ACTUALLY

So first of all to get the angstiest part out of the way: "And I wake with your memory over me / That's a real fucking legacy to leave" is, to me, Steve about Eddie in canon after his death. Pining after a man who he could have had a connection with, a man who deserved better and never deserved the mess he became tangled up with, Steve being one of the only people who knows the truth about Eddie Munson - that he was a good man, a sweet kind funny weird man who never wanted to hurt anybody, who loved fiercely and ended tragically because he believed he had to prove himself when he never did. Steve is haunted by this, the memory of Eddie, feeling as if he has to hold onto these thoughts and feelings because so few people know this truth and it's Steve's job to preserve it even at the cost of his own heart, realizing just how much of an almost Eddie truly was for him. He almost knew him. He almost had his friendship. And maybe, someday, if they'd had the time, he would have almost had his heart - and that's the legacy Eddie leaves for Steve.

And on a canon-divergent note, if Eddie HAD lived, if Steve HAD been able to reach that level of care and love with Eddie that he was so so close to having, to me Maroon tells the story of two people who clung to one another after saving the world. Living in a world that doesn't know how close it came to ending and latching on to the few people who know the truth, building these trauma bonds together that accelerate their relationships, that land Steve and Eddie in a messy, tangled, intense relationship where they fall hard and deep and feel as if they've always known one another - "When the morning came, we were cleaning incense off your / Vinyl shelf 'cause we lost track of time again / Laughing with my feet in your lap / Like you were my closest friend" showing the happy beginning of it, ""How'd we end up on the floor, anyway?" you say / Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how / I see you every day now" being together constantly, maybe even moving in with one another to escape the bad memories and becoming way too codependent.

They're so, so happy together that they let the relationship carry them in a way they shouldn't - they allow the relationship to become their focus, lose themselves to it and push aside the things about themselves that they do need to work on because they're clinging so hard to one another. It keeps them from growing and moving on. Everything is fine because they have one another, but that's not realistic. It's not healthy, and that's how we land at "When the silence came, we were shaking, blind and hazy / 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?" and at "You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway / Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us". Eventually, things fall apart because love, as important as it is, just isn't enough when there's such a shaky foundation beneath it.

They love each other, desperately and intensely, but their trauma leads to them fighting and lashing out and not communicating, and eventually, it all comes crumbling down, resentment builds and they don't even know how they got here, arguing all the time, angry at one another, the distance that feels entirely uncrossable between them - "The mark they saw on my collarbone / The rust that grew between telephones / The lips I used to call home / So scarlet, it was maroon."

It leads to a painful, messy, but necessary breakup, forces them to confront their own demons, and makes Steve deal with his tendency to throw love at the people he cares about in the desperate hope that they'll accept it and love him back and makes Eddie deal with his urge to run or turn away from the difficult conversations and tough problems he hates to face.

They end up growing within themselves in a way that is vitally necessary for them personally, and then eventually, somehow, someway - they work back to one another, to the loves of their lives, and they become SteveandEddie again.

sorry for the essay about them I just have a lot of feelings about them hopefully this makes ANY SENSE AT ALL

#steddie

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