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theysherobinbuckley · 1 year

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snippet from "flies on the windscreen" my serial killer!Eddie fic that keeps me up at night

(mentions of violence but no graphic descriptions in this section)

The worst thing about interdimensional monsters tearing a gaping hole through Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t the nightmares that kept Eddie up at all hours of the night. It wasn’t the empty new mobile home the government had “gifted” him and Wayne, devoid of all of the things Eddie thought made a house a home. It wasn’t being literally hunted for sport by idiot Bible-thumpers who thought that just because he was trailer trash it meant he was a killer. It wasn’t even nearly fucking dying to save the same people who wanted him dead.

Well, maybe it was a little bit that last thing.

It was that Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Robin, Dustin, all the kids, all of them—they had all given so much (too fucking much) just to save a shitty town that couldn’t understand any of it, any of them. A town that still blamed Eddie for everything that happened. A town that still raised kids like Jason Carver and Billy Hargrove and let them fucking terrorize everyone else who lived in it. A town that still shoved all the undesirables to the side and held up its golden children (athletic, preppy, heterosexual, drugged out only on the weekends like good little boys and girls) like they were gods to be admired.

A town that would never know how close it had come to total annihilation, saved only because a handful of teenagers had deemed it worthy of saving, if only for the simple fact that they lived in it.

Vecna was dead. Chrissy was dead. Not Jason, not Tommy, not anyone who had spat on him and called him a queer, not anyone who had outright threatened Jeff and Lucas and fucking Erica for daring to be Black in Indiana. Chrissy fucking Cunningham.

All that, and nothing had fucking changed.

Except–

Except Eddie wasn’t a fucking coward anymore. When Jason and his idiot goons cornered him in the hallway or in the parking lot of the only place in Hawkins that deigned to hire him after graduation, he stood his ground, fists already clenched, itching for a fight he knew he would lose.

But then Steve had taught him how to throw a punch for real.

Once Eddie knew how to fight back, he couldn’t help himself. He fought with a ferocity he hadn’t known he’d possessed, driven not by the desire to stay alive but by the desire to make someone hurt. Someone had to pay for all the shit that went down that spring, and the government’s hush money just wasn’t cutting it.

Someone needed to bleed for it. And it sure as fuck wasn’t going to be Eddie. Not anymore.

He’d thought for the longest time that maybe, deep down, he really deserved everything he got. But then there was the Upside Down, and he knew he deserved better than that. So maybe he deserved better than Jason Carver, too.

When fall came and Jason and the rest of the graduating class hightailed it out of Hawkins (sans Eddie, who didn’t bother applying anywhere, and Robin, who took community college classes one town over), Eddie was almost… disappointed. It was nice not being hunted for sport, but the loss of a viable outlet for his anger had left Eddie reeling.

To his surprise, he’d come to rely on the feeling of Jason’s fists bruising his skin, of tumbling around on the ground pulling hair and scratching eyes until someone pulled one of them away, both of them bleeding and snarling like animals. He missed it.

Now he had all this fucking pent-up energy, all this electric rage coursing through his body, and it just kept on fucking building, pooling in his fists and in his feet and in his gut, and he had to get it out. He had to get it out or he was gonna fucking explode on somebody who really didn’t deserve it.

So he disappeared every now and then. Took some time for himself, drove up to Indy without telling anyone where he was going. He wandered around town looking to blow off some steam, maybe try to find some new drugs or drink himself into a stupor. Anything to get the lighting to stop crackling around his fingers.

Eddie wasn’t a coward anymore, but he definitely wasn’t brave. He was stupid and reckless and curious. So when he heard a commotion around the back alley of a club he’d been trying to get Corroded Coffin into, he froze. Decided to check it out.

The night was dark and still, streets illuminated by the full moon and flickering street lights. Most of the bars and clubs still teemed with sweaty, horny twenty-somethings desperate to forget themselves for a night. In another world, or maybe just on another night, it could have been Eddie and Steve dancing and drinking and kissing until the early hours of the morning, worried about nothing except the drive home.

Tonight, as Eddie crept silently around the corner, there came a sharp cry that almost moved Eddie to tears right then and there.

Some douchebag had pinned a girl to the wall, one knee between her legs and a hand fisted in her shirt. Eddie couldn’t see his other hand. The girl yelped again, sobbing, pleading.

Now, don’t get it twisted. Eddie would’ve stepped in anyway, even if he hadn’t been looking for a fight. There was no fucking way he’d just watch some guy feel up a girl who definitely wasn’t into it, especially not if she was screaming and crying so loud he could hear it from the street. Not on his fucking life.

It just so happened that tonight was a bad night.

#eddie munson #steddie #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #serial killer!eddie au #fotw fic #ej writes #ok to rb #ej posts

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kindsummer · 2 months

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i guess i have to set a calender notification for the 29th then...

also "6th MA Baltimore Riot fic cause Edward F Jones do be in charge of the 6th Ma". eddie jones maryland truther !!!

both fear of the water AND the justified fics are currently in motion...get pumped, get thrilled, get ready for TRAUMA.

listen, i know the truth!!!! plus, i'm the type of research obsessed idiot that deep dives on ancestry to find fucking ;;; find census, birth records, etc and i know for a fact that eddie is from maryland. tho that doesn't explain his accent, @ anyone from around whiteford, maryland DO we know the answer??? but hell yeah, i have a pretty intense obsession with the civil war as well (everyone can blame my parents) and the 6th MA has a special place in my heart so when i realized there was a shared name connection there i could not HELP but jump on the chance to add that to the list. 🤌🤌🤌

#ask #anon #i'm lowkey highkey fixated on my mota oc fic rn but i am working on the other stuff too #i swear i SWEAR #hopefully fotw will be done in time i have hope and belief in myself bc i truly just wanna make my favorite anon happy <3

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choicesficwriterscreations · 1 year

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Red Carpet Diaries 2023 Masterlist

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+

January 2023

New Traditions ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - theartoflovingthomashunt

Brooklyn's Birthday ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!MC - @tveitertotwrites

February 2023

Above & Beyond ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!MC - @peonyblossom

The Universe Gave Y'all to Me ✒️| Thomas Hunt x NB!MC - @peonyblossom

March 2023

RCD Drabble ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @lilyoffandoms

April 2023

New Beginnings (Series) | Thomas Hunt x F!MC - @hopelessromantic1352 Chapter 13 ✒️

Hoppy Easter ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @theartoflovingthomashunt

Distraction ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @theartoflovingthomashunt

The Morning After ✒️Ⓜ️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @alj4890

Girls Morning ✒️ | Victoria Fontaine, F!MC - @tveitertotwrites

May 2023

The Bogart Diaries (Series) | Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @theartoflovingthomashunt A Special Day ✒️

Evidence ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @alj4890

Together as One ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @theartoflovingthomashunt

Slipping Away Together ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @alj4890

Sparks of Hope ✒️| Thomas Hunt x MC - @alj4890

June 2023

Confession Time ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @alj4890

Love Among the Pages ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @theartoflovingthomashunt

No Greater Gift ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @theartoflovingthomashunt

July 2023

Direction (Series) | Thomas Hunt x MC - @moodyvalentinestories Chapter 30 ✒️ Chapter 31 ✒️

Sick ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!MC - @tveitertotwrites

Worth the Wait ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @alj4890

In The Stillness of Sunrise ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @theartoflovingthomashunt

Worth the Wait (Series) | Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @alj4890 Part 1 ✒️

August 2023

Coffee & Dinosaurs ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @theartoflovingthomashunt

That Boleyn Girl (Part 1/2) ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!MC - @tveitertotwrites

November 2023

Thomas Hunt x MC Drabble ✒️🏳️‍🌈by @lilyoffandoms

Brooklyn Moore 🎨| RCD F!MC by @/coffeesforchole for @tveitertotwrites

Dress Up ✒️| Thomas Hunt x F!MC - @tveitertotwrites

December 2023

Always and Whatever Comes Next ✒️🎨🌟| Thomas Hunt x F!OC - art by @weetlebeetle fic by @theartoflovingthomashunt

Thomas Hunt x MC Holiday Art 🎨by @cashweasel (C: @peonyblossom)

#red carpet diaries #red carpet diaries fanfic #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #red carpet diaries fotw masterlist

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lizzybeth1986 · 16 days

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Rose Gold

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Hana Lee x Kiara Theron

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4, 304 words

Content Warning: Mention of Gun Violence, Character Injury.

Summary: Six months after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, Hana and Kiara take their next big step as a couple.

A/N: Set in the P&Tverse. Since P&T spans the timelines of Books 2 and 3 (the Engagement Tour and the Unity Tour + Liam & Esther's wedding), most of this fic takes place after the series is meant to end, and there are references to things that happen there that aren't canon.

The first half of the fic, however, takes place just before the group reunites with the MC and Drake at the safe house (TRR3, Ch 1).

I've borrowed a few elements from Hana's own engagement to the MC in the books: the rose gold ring, the coin throwing ritual at the foundation and the proposal at the lake.

Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek for Day 5: Romance, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and LGBTQ Archive, and @choicesmaychallenge24 for Hera: Marriage

October 14th, 2017. Half past Midnight.

Foolishness. Sheer foolishness.

The voice inwardly chiding her right now sounded suspiciously like her mother; for that reason alone she was desperate to ignore it.

But what else would one call an impulse to jump out of a car that could take her in complete secrecy to the city's best safe house, only to race to Argyros and Sons - Cordonia's premier jewellery store - for a gift she wasn't even sure would be accepted...a promise she wasn't even sure its intended recipient would want?

"Looking for something specific, Your Grace?"

Surprised, Hana looked up from the case displaying an assortment of glittering diamond rings. The eyes that met hers in a speculative survey were ocean-blue, marked by wizened crow's feet. It was at the tip of her tongue to correct him (Lady Hana, sir!) when she spotted the Twitter feed on the iPhone in his hand.

News sure does travel fast around the Capitol!

But no sooner had that thought left her head, than the riptide of memories began to flood her.

The Homecoming Ball. Hors d'oeuvres. Speeches. Fireworks. Announcements. Please welcome Esther DuPont, Duchess of Valtoria, and Hana Lee, Duchess of Krysanthe. Cheers. Expectant Gazes. And then...

Darkness. Gunshots. The acrid taste of fear.

Hana bit back a grimace. How long would memories of tonight haunt her? How long would it be before she heard people address her by her new title, without memories of the violence that followed?

She held her handbag with a sudden death-grip, forcing herself to breathe. To push forth happier, sweeter memories.

Unbidden, comes the one memory that had managed to keep her sane this night.

Her laughter.

Sharp. Raucous. Loud. Jarring against the tinkling sounds of cutlery and glassware, as far away as one could get from the soft, windchime quality of delicate laughter, that every female courtier was taught to emulate.

She thought she'd known love until that moment, fool that she was. Thought that no matter who she dated, no matter how distant she'd be from those memories of the social season - Esther would somehow remain her first and forever love.

Until she had taken that one fateful look at Kiara's wildly joyous face, heard her cackle - the kind one would never normally dare to do at court - and realized with piercing clarity that if she were to compare her feelings for these two women, they would be nowhere close.

Her love for Esther had all the subdued warmth of a crackling bonfire. But these newfound feelings for Kiara?? They made her feel like she was plunging herself headfirst into a raging volcano.

Something within Hana had trembled violently in that moment; some premonition that felt searing in its finality.

Kiara was the one. She was all Hana had ever wanted, without knowing it; all that Hana would ever want, from now till eternity. The one in whose arms she would want to stir awake, every day for the rest of her life.

Kiara Thorne, or no one. Kiara Thorne, or lifelong loneliness.

The phrase rang in her ears like a verdict: final, eternal, unchangeable.

When Hana opened her eyes, she found to her consternation that they were blurry from unshed tears. Quickly blinking them away, she noted dully how different the rings on the display now looked.

Certainly she must have moved to another part of the store without knowing. Where before she'd seen glittering, brilliant, ostentatious diamonds, set in white gold and platinum...now she saw stones nestled in the embrace of a warmer, almost blush-toned metal.

Rose gold.

The metal that was all the rage in her mother's birthplace Bethulia, for its delicate shimmer and soft pink hue. Mama had told her often enough in her childhood that their barony's love for it went far beyond just the colour...that her mother - Hana's Nanimaa - loved it for being such a perfect union of gold, silver and copper...

A whisper of a memory of Nanimaa, the one time she'd ever seen her. At a fountain, glowing from the glimmer of abandoned coins.

It took her less than a minute to find exactly what she didn't know she'd been looking for. Had you asked the jeweller about her, he would have told you that the newly appointed Duchess of Krysanthe had chosen her ring with the greatest confidence. The confidence of a woman who had probably wooed her beloved, confessed her love, basked in the joy of being loved back.

A confidence Hana didn't feel.

When she returned to the limo, she was greeted with the sight of a pensive Liam, rubbing the frown between his brows absently with his fingers. A telltale muscle jumped inside his jaw.

"Any news?" Hana whispered, almost dreading the answer.

"Yes," his voice was grainy from exhaustion and guilt. "Three people injured. Bastien, Esther's press secretary, and...."

"And?" Her voice had gone small and high, that a fearful child's.

"And Lady Kiara. She was..."

Hana blinked once, then blinked again. Liam's mouth was moving, yet no sound seemed to come out. All that she could hear was a low, keening noise, like a muffled siren...or like the moan of a woman in terrible pain.

Kiara. Kiara. Kiara.

May 12th, 2018. Afternoon.

"How far from the palace are you taking us?" Kiara asks, her voice alight with laughter.

"Not even outside its gates," Hana replies, grinning. Kiara looks down at their fingers laced together, palms almost touching.

They've been together for just six months, and still somehow, the lines on Hana's palm feel as familiar to her now as her own. Without even looking she can conjure up the memory of the heartline on Hana's left palm at a moment's notice - long and deep, starting from her index finger, suggesting she would be a wonderful lover with a very fruitful love experience - and her marriage line, stretching from one end of her palm all the way to her ring finger...suggesting friendly in-laws.

(The thought of luring Hana to marry her under the premise of palmistry is sounding more and more tempting by the minute)

Involuntarily - perhaps to stop herself from checking her trouser pockets once again for that tiny box she took from her vault today - Kiara's hand tightens around Hana's.

Can she dare to hope that fortunate beloved could be her?

She steals a glance in Hana's direction, noting with alarm that her fingers are trembling in Kiara's hand.

"We're here," she says, her voice suddenly small and quivering against the gurgle of water in the courtyard fountain. It's been a palace fixture for several decades now - ornate and imposing - a legacy from King Liam's formidable grandmother, the late Queen Mother Cassandra. According to Kiara's father, the woman had married into the family as a young princess from Monterisso, and for her foreignness alone was expected to be crushed by the strictures of the palace and the expectations of her people - yet in a decade's time she had somehow became the most imposing figure there! There was very little in the palace that didn't have her stamp of approval first.

As they come closer, Kiara sees the one thing Queen Mother Cassandra may not have predicted when this fountain was built - the glimmer of coins, all gleaming in the sunlight like they were minted just yesterday.

Her own smile begins to tremble on her lips, even as she notices Hana swallow a telltale nervous lump in her throat. For the first time since they have gotten here, Kiara notices that Hana's other hand is fisted around something. Something that could very likely be the same coins they just saw in the fountain.

She takes that hand gently in hers, knowing now how nervous Hana must feel; knowing that if they complete the ancient lover's ritual that she so hoped to do today, there will be no going back. She uncoils Hana's fisted hand, finger by quivering finger, watching her face as her breathing quickens. She smiles again - a smile more aimed at reassurance than amusement.

"Are we going to do what I think we're going to do today, ma moité?"

For several seconds, Hana doesn't respond. The three coins in her hand (Heavy. Ornate. Engraved with apples. Ancient) are proof enough. The answer, when it finally comes - almost like it is torn out of her throat for fear that Kiara's feelings may not match her own - is barely audible.

"Only if this is what you want too."

Gold. Silver. Copper. Tossed in one after the other in an ancient lover's ritual - one that Kiara knows only because she'd learned about it from her mother, who'd had friends in Bethulia where this ritual was most popular. Maman and Baba themselves had done it on a trip there when she was a teenager, still squirming over her parents' ability to still act like swoony romantics in their (and this would be said well out of their earshot) "fucking forties!".

Wiser now, Kiara feels the same anticipatory tingles that her parents must have felt back then.

This ritual wasn't for the faint of heart in ancient days. You did it only when you were certain. When you looked at your lover and knew that a life without them wasn't a life worth living.

Well, Kiara muses as she watches a hundred emotions flit in a second over Hana's face, I think I've known that long enough. I've known ever since I saw you fight your father in Shanghai, even when you knew it would cost you everything. Since that one moment, I've been yours.

Planting a tender kiss on the corner of Hana's mouth, she takes the coins. "Ready when you are," she whispers softly.

Hana swallows again, her eyes glistening and moist and relieved all at once. In a silk pouch that dangles from her wrist, she fishes for three coins identical to the ones on Kiara's palm. She breathes deep once, twice, three times.

Kiara links their free hands, grips them tight as they turn their backs to the fountain. Hana looks up, a question in her eyes.

"For friendship!" Kiara says, tossing the copper coin into the fountain. Faint memories of something that almost feels like another lifetime glimmer and fade in her memory. Applewood, sipping water, giggling over their favourite fruits and flowers. The Beaumont Bash. Watching from the sidelines as Hana did the verbel equivalent of ripping out Olivia Nevrakis' spine at the Coronation Ball.

Hana takes out the silver coin, and waits for Kiara to holds up hers'. "For love?"

Engagement tour. Fearing Hana would hate her in Fydelia, but never understanding why that should suddenly matter. Standing with her against a bridge in Paris, each mourning their lost loves.

Finally learning what love really was, when she opened her eyes and truly saw Hana for the very first time.

Kiara nods, touching her forehead to Hana's. "Par amour." Their coins splash in unison in the water.

Her girlfriend lets out a watery giggle as she takes out the final coin, glittering and golden on her palm. Her voice breaks a little as she tosses it behind her. "For...bel- belonging".

Kiara's own sigh releases in a shudder as she lets the final pledge sink in.

There were very few places in the world that truly felt like home to Hana. Not the place where she was born, not the barony that could have been her legacy. It took her months to even find comfort or security in her future in Cordonia - much less belonging.

Without a moment's thought, and without releasing the golden coin in her hand, she cups Hana's face and kisses her. Hana shudders and buries her hands in Kiara's hair, her lips trembling against the unspoken promises in her lover's.

"For belonging," Kiara says it like it is a vow. "And I don't care how long it takes - I give my word right now. I'll never let you feel like you have lost your home. Ever." Another kiss - this time on Hana's temple. "I hope you will always find one. In me."

Hana's smile is warm and dreamlike, her eyes closed as if to savour this moment, her fingers playing with Kiara's curls. She barely notices the sound of Kiara's gold coin landing in the fountain. "I love you, Kiki."

Kiara chuckles at her teasing use of the nickname, brushing Hana's nose with her own. "Together forever?"

Their hands, now free, close around each other. "Together forever."

It's quiet now, except for the sound of collard doves, the rustle of leaves and branches in a light breeze, and their breathing. The air smells of wildflowers, citrus and a subtle floral scent that Kiara knows to be the perfume Hana has been using for months. Orange Blossom. She grins as she remembers. It's a scent Hana has often loved to wear, just for her.

Hana's thumb feathers lightly over the ring finger on Kiara's left hand, almost as if to commit the bare space on it to her memory. Kiara doesn't miss that gaze - bright-eyed and soaked in longing - and how it mirrors a need she has felt ever since they landed at the Capitol last week.

Kiara swallows. She had wanted to take things slow, she really did. Woo her, bathe her in every luxury possible, make this trip even more unforgettable than Hana could ever imagine, and then spring this surprise on her - like a kirsch-soaked cherry topping on an already very tempting Black Forest Cake.

But...but that gaze of Hana's has always been Kiara's undoing.

Simply, she says, "come with me."

Puzzled, Hana looks up. "Where?"

"To Lake Sôse," Kiara whispers, wasting not one more moment and grabbing her hand. Hana lets out a nervous, slightly incredulous laugh as she allows herself to be pulled along.

Kiara isn't sure why she's suddenly rushing this. When she thinks of the elaborate plans she'd been constructing all week - chocolate-dipped strawberries and champagne at one of the Capital's premier restaurants, flowers everywhere, a proposal at the hedge maze with a picture together by the swing to commemorate the occasion - she wants to laugh. She isn't even sure why Lake Sôse was the first place she'd thought of just now.

She takes a deep breath, and grounds herself. Uncommonly impulsive though it may be, her decision has been made. There is even a part of her that seems to prefer it to happen this way!Kiara has never been one for last minute changes of plan...but ever since she fell in love with Hana, she's learned to expect - and enjoy - the unexpected.

It's only when she sees the shine in Hana's eyes that she realises why her mind took the turn it did.

Lake Sôse. The one place Hana Lee has always chosen for solace and comfort. The one place in the Capitol where she felt the most at home. It had been here, Hana told Kiara once, that King Liam had told her his plans to appoint her Duchess of Krysanthe. It was here, hours later, that she'd shared that momentous news with her best friend Esther; where Esther - herself aglow with love and a newfound purpose - hugged Hana and told her that the world would now be Hana's oyster.

She'd brought Kiara to this lake for the first time the day after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, following a night when the queen herself had been kidnapped, and Hana had joined the king's entourage to rescue her.

A night that Kiara - in constant fear of losing her forever - had recklessly kissed Hana. In public. In front of the entire court. Braving gazes of teasing approval from Kiara's parents, and near-murderous glares from Hana's. The night everyone outside of Hana's friend circle finally realized the two were a couple.

Kiara remembers the day after that like it was yesterday. Something must have changed fundamentally in Hana that night, because the fear seemed to have gone, and with it the compulsive need for hiding and subterfuge and constantly looking over her shoulder. It was as if Hana had faced what she'd thought was the worst thing that could happen to her, and realized she really was strong enough to face that fear.

You're my safe place among people, Hana told her that morning, her fingers lacing through Kiara's. The one I feel most at home with. I want to bring my safe space..to the place in Cordonia I've always felt safest in.

It is afternoon, and the yellow crocuses behind them exude a warm, buttery golden glow in the sunlight. Hana lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh. "You seem like a woman in a very huge rush today, Lady Thorne."

Kiara's own laughter in response is high-pitched and halting. She tries to hide the moistness of her palms as she makes a blind grab for the small velvet box in her purse. "Believe me, this wasn't the way I'd planned this to go at all."

Intrigued, Hana's eyes follow Kiara's hands, and her eyes widen as she recognises the familiar deep blue velvet, the embossed silver lettering on top. Argyros and Sons.

"Is that --"

"Yes," Kiara says, clearing her throat, "I'd been planning this. All week. It was going to be romantic, elaborate, I was going to sweep you off your feet. Just like I'd planned to ask you out seven months ago."

Hana lets out a watery giggle. We all know how that turned out, don't we, qīn'ài de? Kiara can almost hear her saying.

But the humour stops almost immediately when she looks at the box again, and suddenly Hana seems too still, too shocked...too far off from how Kiara hoped she would react.

Kiara lets out a deep breath, then lets the words gush out of her. She's too scared to stop, too terrified to think - the fear that she may be doing too much too soon is so overwhelming that she knows if she stops she won't be able to bring herself to do this for a long, long time to come. The humiliation would be too strong.

"I'm not one for impulse. I never have been. I've never felt comfortable with anything if I didn't have a plan for it first."

Kiara gives herself a moment to half-smile at the irony of it all. Approaching Hana Lee with a smile and a bottle of water, after that first eventful bite of a Cordonian Ruby was definitely an impulse. So were half the things she had done with Hana since. So will many, many, many of the things they may wind up doing together, if (if!) this leap of faith works in her favour.

She looks up at Hana to see if she's laughing at the memory too. She isn't. In fact, Kiara isn't even sure Hana's reacting yet to what she's saying. Perfectly still, her eyes never moving from the box, so wide that they would go bloodshot if they were widened any further. Kiara swallows, and finds that her throat feels suddenly, inexplicably sore.

"I could never tell what it was about you that changed all that. I still don't. All I know is that...around you, Hana, I feel so much more brave. To let go of the need to plan and organize. To not be too afraid of what will follow - whether it goes in my favour or not. I find myself not just willing, but eager, to trust my gut."

Kiara's eyes search every inch of Hana's face as she opens the box, revealing the ring inside. It's a gorgeous piece, all platinum and sparkling diamonds. The smaller stones form a cluster around a massive one, leading the viewer to believe they are seeing a glittering snowflake, fallen fresh from the heavens.

Kiara had known the minute she saw the ring that it was the one. That it would remind them of the first time they confessed their love. Of their very first date, of the first time they shared Hana's cup of homemade hot chocolate. Of why the two of them will always love winters.

Hana's fingers move, trembling, towards her mouth, her face suddenly flushed. She remembers it too.

"Hana Lee," A frisson of fear slithers down Kiara's spine. "Will you marry me?"

When Hana finally opens her mouth, several seconds later, Kiara has to strain to hear her voice.

"I - I -" her eyes dart away from Kiara as if she's just remembered something important - her beautiful bronzed skin suddenly a little drained of colour. The next few words, she says in a "I.... I'll be back. Give me five minutes? I...just remembered something."

She leaves without waiting for an answer.

Kiara sinks into the grass, covering her face in her hands.

What have I just done?

All the way back from her room in the palace to the lake, the pouch hanging from her wrist feeling only a slight bit heavier, Hana cannot stop mentally kicking herself.

"You fool! You imbecile! Bèn dàn!!" Hana curses herself as she speeds up her sprint into a run, "What happened to your tongue? What kind of reaction was that?? What will Kiara think?"

Her mind now sprints miles ahead of her feet, racing in panicked ferocity over the possibilities.

With any luck, Kiara could still be waiting - puzzled and perhaps a little worried. Or she could be actively panicking, the way she does (on very rare occasions) when a plan goes terribly wrong.

Or...or...

Hana holds the silk pouch from her wrist in a deathlike grip as she speeds up towards Lake Sôse. Or.

The thought of that lovely, open space completely devoid of Kiara, of that beguiling combination of rose and jasmine emanating from her favourite Dior J'adore perfume, makes Hana's stomach drop to her feet.

It isn't until she sees that that heartbreakingly familiar figure of Kiara's, hunched over the grass, that Hana allows herself to breathe.

Kiara is there. Shoulders bent, head buried in her hands, almost stumbling as she tries to get up when she sees Hana.

Morose. Defeated. But still there.

Without another thought, Hana rushes into Kiara's arms, almost knocking her off her feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Hana whispers against her hair. "I wasn't trying to run away. I really had to get something. For you."

Kiara pulls back to look into her eyes, and when she does Hana's heart twists at the sight of unshed tears. "I thought I'd scared you off."

Hana's own laughter quavers, pitched high in disbelief. "I've just pledged myself to you this afternoon, body and soul, at the palace fountain. This -" she lifts Kiara's left hand to her chest, her thumb caressing the empty space on her beloved's ring finger " - just makes it so much more real."

Kiara's arms wrap around her, pulling Hana flush to her. Hana can feel Kiara shake as she giggles in response. "...you mean to say that I'd have saved myself so much stress if I'd just remembered those coins."

"Yes, qīn'ài de, a thousand times yes." She cups Kiara's face, pressing their foreheads together. "Place that ring where it belongs, Kiki. I can't wait to see it on my finger."

Hana holds her tight until Kiara's breathing becomes slower, calmer. She raises her newly-adorned hand for Kiara to see - marvelling at how the ring really mimics the glow of a snow crystal in the winter sun.

When they part, shyly, reluctantly, Hana begins to fiddle with the silk pouch.

"Here's what I'd gone to bring."

Kiara's eyes brighten at the sight of the box in her hand; a wave of warmth floods through Hana in anticipation of her response. Kiara gasps the minute she opens the box, revealing a delicate, intricately carved rose gold ring, flanked by small diamonds on all four corners, cradling a bigger one at the center.

"Rose gold," Kiara murmurs in wonder.

"Yes," Hana brushes her fingers over Kiara's knuckles. She'd told her once, long ago, how revered that metal was in her home province Bethulia. How Bethulian jewellers and goldsmiths and young women swore by the rosy hue it exuded. How it was a perfect amalgamation of three precious metals - all highly valued in the province. How tied it was to their folktales and bridal rituals.

"Copper..silver...gold." Kiara's tears glitter like diamonds before she lets them fall. "For friendship. For love. For belonging."

Hana smiles, her hand still stroking Kiara's cheek. "You remembered."

Kiara rolls her still-moist eyes, trying hard not to sniff - it would take out all the humour in this situation. "It's hard to forget a ritual we'd performed just ten minutes ago, ma moité."

"I'd planned to give you this ring a week from now," Hana says, shaking her head at her own impulsiveness as the ring she'd chosen on a fanciful whim so long ago, now finds its home. "I've been holding onto it for far too long."

Kiara caresses the stone on her own finger lovingly, admiring the way the rose gold glows on her skin. When she speaks, her voice is breathless in anticipation. "How long?"

For several minutes, Hana's only response is to pull Kiara back in her arms again. Her hand slides slowly, almost with a tinge of regret, down the dip of Kiara's waist on her left side. The wound that had once served as a constant, searing reminder of so much (of her vulnerability, of her inability to run from pain, of what she'd once considered her failures), has healed in more ways than one - only a faded scar that Hana never fails to kiss, now remains.

"For seven months," Hana's voice shakes at the memory, "Since the night after Homecoming Ball."

With a choked sob, Kiara enfolds Hana into her arms, almost as if she'd want to absorb her into every cell of her body. Fervently, reverently, she presses her lips all over Hana's face - her eyelids, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, all the little-known, barely-noticed parts of her. It takes her a while - perhaps too long, in Hana's opinion - for Kiara's lips to meet hers, but she welcomes the sweet torture of waiting.

"Mon cœur," Kiara says between kisses, "ma raison de vivre."

When they part, the two women keep each other's hands interlinked, one left hand over the other. Neither of them will remember how long they stay at the lake; only that they never want this joy, this warm afterglow of seeing their dreams come true...to end.

The empty spaces on their ring fingers, over which they'd each stolen such secret, hungry glances today, now bear the mark of their lovers. Now bear the most tangible signs of their love, their memories, their promises, their commitment.

Together forever.

Translation:

Ma moité - a romantic endearment in French, meaning "my other half"

Qīn'ài de - Mandarin Chinese for "my dear"/"darling"

Bèn dàn - Mandarin Chinese cuss word that means "stupid egg!"

Mon cœur - French endearment, meaning "my heart"

Ma raison de vivre - French for "my reason to live"

References for Hana and Kiara's engagement rings:

Kiara:

(Source: Maxine Jewellery)

Hana:

(Source: This article on engagement rings, but the actual pic itself came from Blue Rose Photography)

#hana lee #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #hanaleeappreciationweek #HLAW #HLAW 2024 #HLAW Day 5 #HLAW Day 5: Romance #series: petals and thornes #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic

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pmdfanfiction · 2 months

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Introducing the Fic of the Week program!

With version 1.5.0, every week, a randomly chosen story will be highlighted on the website's front page as well as on our social media and the server's announcements. To opt-out from having your fic chosen for FotW, give it a tag called "No Fic of the Week". This is something we on the dev team have always thought about since day one of this website's conception, and we hope you are as excited as us to finally bring it into reality.

The first Fic of the Week is Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Age of Shadows by StarFalcon555 (aka me, your humble social media manager I SWEAR IT WAS A MASSIVE COINCIDENCE LMAOOOOOOOOO)

Check the fic out and let us know what you think! You have one week to do so!

https://pmdfanfiction.com/story/pokemon-mystery-dungeon-age-of-shadows/

#fanfic #fanfiction #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #writing #pokemon #fic of the week

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jerzwriter · 2 years

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Why don't you share all fics on your fics of the week list? There are some that I don't see on it.

Hi Nonny,

Thank you for asking.

Our rules for submitting fics for our FotW event can be found here. In order to ensure a fic is posted, the writer needs to copy @choicesficwriterscreations in the post, and it is recommended they use the tag #cfwc fics of the week.

Recently, we attempted to post fics using the main tags, but encountered two issues:

It is just an inordinate amount of work. CFWC is run by me and Kathy, real people with real jobs and responsibilities - there just weren't enough hours in the day. And,

Some people don't want their fics posted on the list.

As the FotW admin, if I see a fic by a writer who has not previously utilized CFWC, I will send a welcome message and offer the opportunity to be included.

It is our wish to have as many writers represented as possible, but we also don't want to force anyone who may not wish to participate.

If you have any other questions, please let me know!

#choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #asks answered #cfwc asks

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princess-geek · 2 years

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Hello!

I wanted to be sure that you knew you could submit 3 entries this week (your very first fic plus any two others as long as it isn’t this weeks FOTW).

Thank you so much for warning me! I didn't noticed that had to be my very first fic. I'm sorry if I difficulted your work! Please, feel free to ignore what I rebloged, since it isn't correct

Thank you for being so kind! 😘

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twentyonepilotsficlibrary · 5 years

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Fic of The Week

Sahlo by strawberrykiwicaprisun (11/11 | 25734 | Teen)

He is worn and weak. The Bishops are always coming for him. Josh is there to save him every time.

The one where Tyler has a soft spot for animals and gains a new friend while trying to survive in Trench.

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 7 months

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Fireflies Over The Wall - Chapter 6

Relationship: The Bell Keeper & Meiri (Original character)

Summary: "The troll brought with herself, every night without a fault, a baby.

Every night, she placed it upon the grass, and pointed upwards, showing her baby the stars and constellations. Showing her baby the fireflies.

Holding it tight. Cuddling with it. Making sure it saw the beauty the world had to offer. He had never considered himself a sentimental man. Yet this image, for some reason, never failed to make him return home feeling something gaping and void inside of himself.

Every one of his former coworkers must have returned to their families.

Who would Edmund return to when he could work no more?

What would give him a reason to get out of bed when the fireflies were no longer enough?"

An OC's origin story as well as a Bell Keeper character study, because this character is much more fascinating than I'd been giving him credit for.

Notes: Title from 'Soap' by The Oh Hellos

This chapter was brought to you by White Light Haters Club. My church turned all of their orange lights to white lights (meaning ALL of them) some weeks ago and I feel hatecrimed

Chapter title: I think that you’re worth keeping around

Read it on ao3

The girl worked in extremes. Either Edmund could hear her approaching from two miles away, or he only noticed her when she was standing directly beside him, making him start and nearly lose his balance and fall down the wall.

It might seem like hyperbole, but it had almost happened a couple of times now. Not that night, though. That night she barged into his cabin loud and clear.

An awkward couple of moments of plain old staring followed her entrance, because Edmund had been on his knees on the floor trying to fix the wobbling on one of his chairs and was taken completely for a loop when Meiri closed the door behind herself. She kept her back glued to the door, panting. She’d probably run there.

“Kid? What the-” He got up with a frown, brushing the dust away from his knees. “It’s late, you shouldn’t be out at this hour.”

“They’ve changed the lightbulbs.”

Being in the process of walking towards her, Edmund stopped dead in his tracks and tilted his head to the side.

“Huh?”

“At Saint Anne’s. They’ve changed <em>all</em> the lightbulbs. At once. And they’re all so much brighter now!”

Even if he didn’t completely understand where the problem was, he could hear the very obvious and plain distress in her voice, and continued approaching her slowly.

“And that bothers you.”

She looked down, but her nod was still perceptible.

“It hurts my eyes. And my roommates asks for the bathroom lights to stay on because they’re afraid of the dark.” He was close enough now, and she looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes, but even though she was in a stressful situation, he had the impression that what she was really struggling the most with was allowing herself to be this open. “I stayed there for as long as I could stand. I don’t want to anymore.”

She sniffed, and with a low whisper that was all the girl could muster, she asked. “Can I spend the night?”

The alarm bells in his mind sounded a lot like good old regular bells, which made sense all things considered. Maybe even if they weren’t much good against trolls, they could at least save him from digging himself deeper into a grave of his own creation.

“If it depends on me, sure.” He said, proving that the bells were, in fact, just as inefficient inside his own mind. “But I don’t think the orphanage would allow it; to be fair, I don’t think they should. For all accounts and purposes, I’m a stranger, ya know?”

“No, you’re my friend.”

In all honesty, he didn’t actually understand that sentence, since it was so muffled by the strain in her voice. All he really got was the last word, making him start.

“What was that?”

“I don’t want to go back.” She said even though he could tell it was something different from what she had before. “It feels bad. I’m okay here, why can’t I stay?”

Edmund crouched down next to her, raising one hand slowly to her shoulder. When she gave no indication that the contact was unwelcome while he approached, he touched it gently. “It’s a matter of safety, kid. They worry about you and you can’t trust everyone out there, even if they seem nice at first. It’s not to punish you; it’s to keep you safe. But if you’d rather, I’ll ring them up and ask them about it. How’s that?”

Instead of answering, Meiri just sniffed again and nodded, walking past him (after leaving her shoes by the door, as always, even though he’d never really asked that of her). As he got up again and picked up the black phone on the wall by the doorframe, he heard her climbing the ladder up to his bedroom.

The numbers for both Saint Anne’s and Terry were glued to it. He rang the caretaker.

“Please tell me she’s there with you.” Were his first words as he picked up on the second ring.

“Good evening, Hansen. Yeah, she just arrived. Listen, I understand you’ve changed the lightbulbs at Saint Anne’s?”

Edmund heard the sound of sheets being ruffled behind himself.

“Oh, yes. The former ones had lost their potency and were really dim. So the director decided that it would be a good investment to switch to LED lights. Saves money, and everything. What does this have to do with anything?”

Edmund bit the inside of his cheek before he could say something rude.

“Didn’t ya notice Meiri was feeling uncomfortable with them?” Well. Before he could say something too rude. His voice could have sounded less accusing, too.

“I- no.” He stumbled. “She didn’t mention anything.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Edmund sighed. “Well, she is. It’s making her feel unwell; she wanted to ask if she could spend the night here.”

“I think you understand why we cannot allow that, Edmund.” Terry answered before even giving him a chance to say that it was fine by him. Truth be told, he felt less angry with that answer. It was already bizarre enough that they trusted him to keep her during the day, even if only because they knew they wouldn’t be successful in stopping her, he didn’t need to go to sleep knowing they’d just leave her under the care of just about anyone for the night.

“Yes. I do. But isn't there anything you can do? The bulbs were changed in all parts of the house?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“And can’t you at least, I dunno, change her room? So she doesn’t have to share with kids who have some lights on at all times?”

“That would be against our protocol, seeing as they’re all well established with their roommates. And I don’t think any of our other children would want to do her the favour of switching. I’m afraid Meiri had some trouble making any real friends.”

Edmund lowered the phone for a second, just so he could groan without being heard. He had heard her talking about the orphanage crew, even if not often; he truly believed that they were trying their best and cared about the kids, but they could be so stupid sometimes. Why did whatever protocol they had matter more than the comfort of one of their kids?

“I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do at the moment, Edmund. But thank you for telling us what the issue is, Meiri can be very closed off at times.” Terry said, somewhy making Edmund feel angrier about the situation. “I’ll make sure to talk to her when she gets back. See if there’s something that would make her more comfortable.”

Clenching and unclenching his fists was all he could do as he ended the call. It would be fine. She would be fine. She’d be cared for. She didn’t need him sticking his nose into business that wasn’t his.

She didn’t need him. He had to keep believing that, for his own sake.

“Hey.” He called out, not being able to see her from where he was standing. “You okay, kid?”

Only silence met him. So he removed his muddy boots - even he wasn’t enough of an ogre to go to the second ‘floor’ with them on - and climbed the ladder at the far end of his living room. He couldn’t immediately see her, but he did see a lifeless lump covered by sheets on his bed, so that was good enough. She only seemed to curl in tighter around herself the closer he walked.

“Firefly.” Edmund whispered in what he hoped was a comforting voice as he knelt down by his bed. It wasn’t even really a bed, but rather just a mattress on the floor. Served him well enough. “I’m sorry, but I really need to take you back.”

“I don’t want to!” She repeated with a whine, the sound muffled by the comforter she’d cocooned herself in. “Why can’t I stay?”

There was a chest by the bed; it doubled as his bedside table, so Edmund had to put the items that had been on top of it on the ground in order to open it.

“No reason other than your safety, kid. They can’t just leave the children they take care of with people they don’t know if they can trust.”

“I can trust you.”

His breath hitched. “Yeah. But they’ve no way of knowing it. They’re not wrong.”

For all that she was upset, that had probably been one of their calmest conversations. Poor girl must be very tired already. It was past her bedtime and she’d run all the way there.

Rummaging through the chest, he found what he’d been looking for at the very bottom.

“Ah, there you go.” Her head poked out of the sheets to look at what he was trying to show her. “Haven’t worn these in a while. They might help.”

It was a pair of sunglasses, very plain and straightforward. By the look of them, they really had been left forgotten for a while. Meiri watched, not knowing what his point was, as he cleaned the lenses on his flannel shirt. Then, he turned them so that their back was facing her and gently pressed it onto her face.

“What do ya think?”

“It’s dark.”

“That’s the idea. Thought they might make the lights at Saint Anne’s more bearable.”

The fact that she took a while to answer was enough of a reply; they would help, she just didn’t want to admit it.

“Heh.” Edmund leaned back to look at her from another angle. “They’re far too big for you. You kinda look like a fly with these.”

As Meiri tilted her head, the glasses nearly fell off, sliding down the bridge of her nose until he could see her lifted eyebrow. “Dermatobia hominis or Cochliomyia hominivorax?”

“Pardon?”

“They’re fly species!” She smiled, looking morbidly excited about it suddenly. “Their larvae feed off of live human tissue!”

“How is this better than feeding off of dead tissue?”

“It’s not. I’m not trying to defend them, I just think they’re cool.”

“Alright, don’t think you can distract me with bug stuff.” He chuckled while beckoning her out of the cocoon. “I still need to take you back.”

She did untangle herself, but just laid limply there after doing so. “It’s not fair. I don’t wanna.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard already.” He shimmied his hands underneath her so he could pick her up himself. “Come on. I’ll take you there.”

After a brief interlude for him to put on his coat, during which she remained on his couch, he picked her up again and trekked all the way to the city. Their progress was slow at first, seeing as the absence of any light other than the moon’s for the first couple of miles made it difficult to walk in the woods, but the task became easier once streetlights and sidewalks showed up. The entire time, Meiri remained hanging on to his neck, the sunglasses stored away inside her pocket. She’d even dozed off for a while, lulled by the rhythmic movements of his pace, but was able to give him directions once they were close.

The orphanage was in a good location. It was peripheric, but a nice neighbourhood nonetheless, even if there wasn’t anything to do close by. It felt weird for Edmund to see it with his own eyes for the first time, since Meiri had been visiting him for so long already. The outer walls were painted with a faded baby pink colour, peeling and cracking near the doors and windows. Late as it was, no sound was coming from inside, and he knocked on the door, feeling Meiri tighten her hold on him.

Terry opened the door, looking weary but happy to see them. He stepped aside to allow them in; the first room inside the orphanage was a living room that doubled as a reception, and no one else was currently there. Save for a woman with dark skin and curls crocheting on a couch.

“Thank you for bringing her. Sorry for the trouble, I know it’s late.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Edmund lowered himself down so Meiri could steady her feet on the floor. He thought he felt some reluctance in the way she didn’t let go for a second, but it might as well have been in his own mind.

The woman on the couch set her needle down on the couch and got up to walk towards them, the wrinkles on her face made deeper by her worry.

“Are you alright, Meiri?” She asked softly with a heavy accent; he couldn’t pinpoint where it was from.

Meiri shoved her hands in her pockets, probably wanting to fiddle with them but finding the sunglasses there instead. “Yes, tia. Sorry for worrying you.”

“Let’s go.” She extended a hand towards her, which wasn’t taken, but Meiri followed anyway. “Let’s see what we can do for you.”

As the two of them walked away, Teresa tried to give Edmund an approving nod, but wasn’t noticed. His eyes were focused on the back of Meiri’s head, who was for the moment being too preoccupied about not meeting them. Terry sighed as soon as they were out of earshot.

“It’s very good that you came, sir. Would you like something to drink?”

“No, I’ll-” He shook his head as if that would help him clear his thoughts. No such luck. “I think I’ll just be going.”

The blond man took a step towards him. “Alright. I’ll try to make this quick, then.”

There was a fearful and sympathetic expression on his face, telling Edmund he needed to brace himself but not disclosing what for. His mind immediately set to worrying that something bad had happened to Meiri, before remembering that even if it had, it wouldn’t be his problem.

“I’m sorry. I fear Meiri has gotten quite close to you in the recent months.”

He nodded, arms crossed. Trying to let as little emotion show as possible.

“And we know this is good for her. She’s always had trouble making friends, even though we know she’s a sweet kid, and she’s been coming back home happier ever since she started going out to see you.” He ran a hand through his hair, awkward about the situation and really having hoped they could have at least been sitting down for that conversation. “We don’t doubt you’re a good man, Edmund; please don’t take it as that-”

Edmund tensed up more than he already had, knowing that flattery always preceded rug pulling and holding his breath for when it came. Terry noticed it, and grimaced since he knew he was going to deliver exactly what was expected.

“But we fear she has gotten too attached to you. Teresa, our cook, she’s the only person here Meiri even slightly opens up to. And she feels like you’ve become some sort of…” He should have picked his words better. It was no use, now they were on the tip of his tongue and rolling out before he could do anything about it already. “Some sort of father figure to her. And we have no doubt you’ve done her a lot of good, Edmund. But we’re really afraid that this will only hurt her down the line.”

Terry was a very lucky man, he thought amidst the static that filled his brain. It was the only explanation as to why Edmund could hear him even through the drumming of his heart on his chest, beating like he was about to jump off of a cliff.

Scratch that. Cliff jumping was less scary than this.

“What if-”

He began the sentence, but didn’t have the courage to finish it. Or maybe courage wasn’t the right word, since all it took was the caretaker asking ‘what was that?’ for him to continue.

“What if I could be her father?”

The question rang loud in the awfully quiet space, competing only with the annoying tick of a cuckoo clock. In a matter of moments, Terry’s face went from surprised, to compassionate, to pitying.

“If that’s really what you want, my friend.” He said softly, with the resigned tone of a soldier who had given up on a battle. “Then I wish you the best of luck.”

#meiridom #fic: fotw #my fic #hilda oc #the bell keeper hilda #meiri #meiri (oc)#the bell keeper fanfic #hilda the series fanfic

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