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asakiooi · 1 year

Note

Hey idk if you take writing requests so if not. dont read this and have a nice day :)

But however if you do-

I been dieing for a reader x josiah from overtime. I was wanting somthing on the more wholesome side. As a simp I played that game solely for him and ended up hitting the wall running to fast to his desk. So I'm asking for something like that where the reader is like ya know always happy to see him. Maybe even buys him monsters often, watches him play his game and quietly cheers for him. Ya know like a little wife who just wants him happy. (And obviously that he kills ofc)

(And unless you keep it gender neutral, can the reader be a short fem? I'm 5'1 and would tremble under his look lmao)

and take ya time if ya make it and get good rest :)

Overtime Headcanons | Josiah X Short GN! Reader

M sorry op, once again I have fumbled with my ask box but yes here you go bc I love all of you overtime lovers <3

In the form of Hcs unfortunately, I just pulled a whole fic earlier and I needa break. Also I’m writing this as pre extension demo, where Josiah works as an IT alongside you (mc).

Josiah is always delighted to see you whenever you turn from the corner straight to his desk. Sometimes you clumsily run too fast and hit the walls that surround his desk, which leads you to double down in pain once you smack your entire body into it. He always makes sure to crouch besides you and rub your back, making fun of you while doing it but also making sure you’re okay.

He always pulls a chair out for you to sit next him whenever you have time. It’ll be much more comfortable than his, most likely snagged from your manager. He makes sure it has extendable options for height.

When you sit with him, he always leaves options open on what to do without ever saying them. He waits for your lead.

Sometimes you talk, mundane things like that. Or maybe deeper conversations that make you both think. If you were feeling bold, talks about romantic stuff like dates would make him feel flustered. Not in a bad way of course, he truly wants to do a lot with you.

Maybe you’ve gone out together once or twice before becoming an item, but this is different.

If you choose to watch him play games, he happily agrees. He’ll boot up his computer and start up CS:GO while you sit patiently.

When he starts matching, he’ll give you a lil glance and smile.

You watch intensely, looking at everything he’s doing.

He’s really good, you notice. Probably the best in the game honestly.

Every kill he gets, you mutter a “Ooh! Nice!” Which boosts his ego, especially if it was a tricky kill. You might even throw a few more words in to show how much you really pay attention and it makes him smile a little.

When he gets killed though, your quick to comfort him or come to his defense.

If you feel spiteful, you’re going to be quick with calling it an unfair kill. They camped? SMH, they should have been a good sport and played fairly (biased because if Josiah camped you wouldn’t bat an eye).

If Josiah doesn’t make a comment after his character gets killed you’ll fill in the silence.

If you feel chill, you’re quick to comfort him in a softer way. Not in a “You’ll get it next time” way, you already know he’ll go after his killer the moment he respawns.

“Cmon! You got this! He’s at that corner right there!” If you turn into his callout partner, he’ll be immensely happy. Usually he gets distracted when other people disturb him but when it comes to you and your voice, it becomes a guide for him.

He reacts fast regardless, but appreciates your efforts. Every time you tell him there’s a person at the window, near the courtyard, etc, he downs them immediately. Even if you don’t finish your sentences he’ll give you a high five for the teamwork.

He’ll also pat you on the head since your head is most likely chest level for him. How well you both did will show when he’s done ruffling up your hair.

Side thought that might be ooc, but I dare you to poke him when he’s gaming. He might think it’s an accident at first but when you keep doing it he knows it’s to throw him off. His sides are the weakest.

When you poke his waist it does a C curve and you laugh at that. If he dies he will most certainly poke you back in the same spot or any other known sensitive spots tenfold. Don’t mention this to him, but you know entirely that he’s pouting.

If you keep adjusting the chair in order to avoid him while he’s trying to poke you, he’ll set the chair down with both of his hands at the handles to keep you in place. This is your chance to poke him again but at both sides. Or this could be your chance to rizz him up and seduce him out from poking you everywhere.

Good luck soldier, just letting you know that he won’t stop until you’re crying and begging for mercy, which you’ll most likely do if there are other people around. (A/n: help I just realized this sounds suggestive, I assure you it’s all fun and games 😭)

Monsters are his go to. Always. How his digestives aren’t failing is a story for another day.

You always make sure to buy monsters whenever you have time in the morning. There’s almost always a quick trip to the mart just to get them everyday. When you round up the corner with a monster and smile, Josiah always makes sure to return the sentiment as soon as he can.

You’ll get a monster for his morning schedule, afternoon schedule, so on and so forth. Maybe you’ll even take a sip from his can to celebrate whenever he wins a game.

Now for general, many of your co-workers have to look from the side or tip toe and peek over the walls just to see if you’re there. Josiah on the other hand will make crude paper airplanes and send them over your walls. If you ignore his first initial airplane, he’ll make another one and aim for the center just so it can hit you. If you ignore that one as well, he’ll keep making them and wait until you finally come over to him and talk to him. (He will especially do this if you’re mad at him).

When you go to the archives to retrieve something, he always has to accompany you. Even with a ladder, you can’t reach most sections. Josiah, in his petty ways, would use his powers to hide or get rid of the ladder just so you can ask him for help. “Whom, moi?” He would innocently ask.

When you get confused on something during work, you can always ask him. He’s an expert after all.

He’ll explain to you what you need to know with total patience. With his chin resting on your head of course. His body will completely envelop yours while he’s explaining btw.

Show any visible awkwardness and it’s over. (Endless teasing and just to egg you into to saying something to him, he will get even closer).

Remember that Josiah is not a man of organized words. Teasing is his love language but, yeah. That’s all he’s confident in.

When he’s slightly annoyed with you (or jealous) he will stand over you, casting a long shadow and blocking your path. His face is definitely menacing. However you can just laugh with love at his attempt and he’ll laugh with you too, not taking anything he did before seriously.

Sometimes when you work overtime in the dark, he’s either your personal protector or personal devil. Just rest assured that he will never go home without you.

There isn’t a lot to go on about his actual person, but just letting you all know that I write him slightly influenced from Benrey from half life.

Sorry if this seemed short or not what you expected, I hope this will make up for not replying to this sooner !!

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celestialvexation · 2 years

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okay, i was looking over old posts about overtime ( like this one ), and i’m just so intrigued if fen is actually gonna down with this idea of having multiple routes and endings

cause i mean, think about it

damian already hates josiah for one ulterior reason or another; if you decide to go with josiah, i figured that damian is gonna react more negatively and hostile towards you as the game progresses. perhaps even having a sequence of events where he’ll attempt to kill you!

i also like the idea that it could ramp up the difficulty in some cases cause what if the other love interests ( for now, i’ll have this term refer to the main 3 ) are more aggressive with their approaches towards you or make the game harder by withholding information that allows you to move further into this mystery

annette herself showed the “++” when you chat with her, so maybe her and gavin ( and any other character ) would help out if you manage to score enough points with them as well. like if in one route has you avoiding any one of the main 3, either annette or gavin could help stall them while you get away or do something important without interruption

( also side note: i’d very much love it on y’all’s takes on this: like what the certain requirements for each interest to make you like them, what they could do to make it difficult for you, etc :D )

#overtime game #josiah nguyen #damian stasiuk #overtime emery #<--- forgot their last name ORZ #jaunty rambles #also this is me wanting to use my dusty ol noggin so alsdkafs

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adelindschade · 2 years

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So, an expansion off of this post, and a little tweaking on the Nesta Archeron single mother au: because writer’s block - why not?

Nesta Archeron never celebrated her birthday. She didn’t care, not even if her best friend insisted. It wasn’t something she particularly wanted to keep tabs on. She could count the years she remained sober – the same number of years she was blessed with her daughter – who happened to be born ten days before her own. Beatrice was her birthday gift that kept on giving.

She already felt older than she was, and that was well before she had her daughter. As the eldest, a lot was expected of her, and her father was too broke and too broken to be counted on to be a functional parent after her equally horrendous mother kicked the bucket – a consequence of her nicotine addiction. She refused to make excuses for them and rather care for her younger sisters, she ran off with the first guy who looked her way. Not the kind her mother would’ve wanted for her prized mare but anything to remove herself from that hell.

That went bust – and so did her eye. He only hit her once, but it must have knocked some sense into her. Nesta had been hit enough in her lifetime – never again. She could deal with the belittling, drown it out with alcohol, but when she found out after their split she was expecting, she was terrified.

She hadn’t dealt with the split well either, despite no longer being slapped around. She was still pretty enough to be picked up at the bar. It didn’t do much for her self-esteem after her hook-ups finished up, but it was nice when it lasted to feel wanted. It couldn’t have been them, though. She swore Tomas was the father because she was so keen on protection with her midnight visitors and the timeline implied Beatrix was conceived when they were still living together, when she was still exclusive, and too drunk to remember if they wore a condom or not.

It was a blessing Tomas denied it. She’d rather face single motherhood than to be shackled to that abusive son of a bitch. She would be a better parent than the ones she had. She would give Beatrice everything she had been denied. Beatrix was her saving grace. The wake-up call to stir her out of her stupor and focus on what mattered.

Beatrix was turning seven this week. Nesta Archeron had plenty to celebrate for. Her new job promotion. Seven years and nine months sober. A best friend she was so thankful to have in her life.

Emerie Bell was a boutique owner, but she didn’t specialize in florals or pastels. She was leather clad, obsessed with antique weapons, head to toe in black, and an attitude to thwart even the grizzliest of man. She was a mean lesbian with a heart of gold, and Nesta’s surprise pregnancy only strengthened their bond.

She was closer to Nesta than she was to her blood sisters, Elain, or Feyre. They had forsaken her, deeming her a useless drunk with a heart of ice. She couldn’t forgive their father like they could, and they couldn’t forgive her like they did him.

Feyre ran off with a man – and left him at the alter for another. She hadn’t heard from her since she curiously checked in on Tamlin and learned that she was engaged to someone named Rhys. Elain had been so excited to marry her high school sweetheart but that went bust. He was the one to call it off, not her. Rather than live with a drunk, Elain mocked her for taking up strangers in her bed and moved in with Feyre. Nesta supposed that Rhys had the means to support both of them.

They missed seven years with Beatrix, but she wasn’t alone. She had Emerie. She was Auntie Em. The one she could rely on to pick Bea from work when Nesta was stuck pulling overtime to pay rent; the one who taught her to speak up and stand her ground.

She had Balthazar – the postal worker who always had something funny or nice to say when he dropped off a shipment at Emerie’s store. He always had a parcel for Bea, even if it was handwritten and lacked an envelope. She’d be so excited and bounce like a kangaroo, thanking him while Emerie smiled at her giddiness. Balthazar allowed Bea to sign on Emerie’s behalf, and she was obsessed with sharing her signature everywhere since.

The library check out form. Guest registries. Store receipts. Restaurant tabs. Her artwork. Beatrix preferred crayon over pen, always colorful in her writing as she was in her personality. She liked to write. Nesta wondered if she’d become what Nesta had originally intended to be: an editor. Life gave her a different draw of cards.

Nesta did her damnedest to be a good mother. She endured the pregnancy woes while working full time at above minimum wage. She dealt with the stress of bills on her own after breaking free of Tomas. She toted her swelling belly and then an infant to class lectures to ensure she didn’t fall further behind in school. She didn’t care if it limited her friend pool or made her a pariah amongst her peers.

Beatrix was her entire world, and mother-and-daughter would become the closest of friends. She’d foster a better relationship with her child than what she endured with her own mother.

From the one-sided discussions where Nesta engaged the babbling toddler with full sentences, able to vent about how much she had to juggle (but not too much since Bea was intuitive to pick up her mother’s stressors), to the lively board games that Bea adored because she was just as competitive as her mother. Her daughter was so smart, and active, and Nesta nurtured that spirit in a way her own mother had not. She would not squash her daughter’s self-esteem to be a perfect doll. Nesta would unlearn all of her condition while uplifting Bea to be a vibrant person she knew she’d become.

At some point, instead of Emerie watching her at the shop where she played the diligent clerk and enthusiastic greeter, Bea insisted on accompanying her mother at work. Her boss was lenient and Nesta was grateful. Bea was in her designated corner, adjacent to Nesta’s desk, and filling up pages with writing while Nesta typed away on her computer.

That wouldn’t be commonplace anymore with Bea attending school and dance class afterwards. Dance was something Nesta enjoyed – and Bea wanted to dance like her mommy. It was strange seeing her daughter take up ballet. Her mother had seen an opportunity to exploit but Nesta only found overwhelming joy in her daughter’s less than perfect plié. Bea was smiling in the mirror, asking occasionally if her mommy saw what she did, and Nesta would clap and nod, feeling full of happiness.

She didn’t care about the dirty looks other parents cast her for rushing in late. Most were already put off by Emerie, clad in black, leather, and muscular from her years training. A stark contrast to Nesta’s prim and professional, not quite as expressive as her rainbow-loving daughter.

“Are you free Saturday?”

“Bea, baby, what are talking about? We’re going to a wedding Friday,” Nesta hurried to the door. Beatrice was greeting Balthazar, letter already in hand, along with some other bills.

“I need a plus one and I like Balt,” Beatrix said.

“You’re my plus-one, silly,” Nesta cooed, unable to smother a smile. She flashed an apologetic one towards the mailman. “Hi, Balthazar,” she returned her attention.

“But Auntie Emmy is your plus-one,” Bea replied.

“And Helion invited you personally,” Nesta pinched her sleeve lovingly.

Helion had missed her spunky spirit when school was back in session. Back when she was regular at the bank where Nesta did risk analyst work, he went so far to hand her a custom badge, where purple letters marked her signature. He insisted Nesta bring her along to his wedding, offering to lend her a room to stay overnight since it’d be at his countryside farm.

He was marrying someone Nesta hadn’t met before, but it was hard to ignore the workplace chatter. Something about a love child, and her marrying another, and him unable to move on – and then widowhood presented itself a second chance for the two sweethearts.

She was happy for him. Helion was the kindest boss she had. A bit quirky, a little perverted, and maybe an HR nightmare if anyone took his flirtations beyond face value. Helion still believed Emerie and she were an item after an attempt to thwart his comments by doing nothing to dissuade his assumptions. Same address, close knit, co-parenting a kid… well, she could see why he’d come to such conclusions. Still not sure why people assumed lesbians would be down for threesomes…

Helion had taken to Beatrix wonderfully. He gave her a keycard. Her own customized pad with her name printed on the corner. She wrote her name each day in different color on the opposite corner, cementing her signature. Helion even gifted her a name plague. He addressed her the way Nesta appreciated it – like a person, and as an individual. Ms. Archeron and Ms. Archeron he greet when he did his rounds.

It gave Nesta hope for Helion that, though his rumored love child may be as old as herself, that he’d have a good chance to make amends if he was that good with a seven-year-old. She felt some pity that he missed out on those golden years and would have to begin again with a tarnished reputation. She could empathize with that.

“Who am I supposed to dance with?” Beatrice pouted.

“With us,” Nesta crinkled her nose, chuckling. Beatrix was outgoing and make plenty of friends, but she didn’t want to be the parent who accidentally loses her kid in the crowd. “I can’t have anyone stealing away my best girl.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Balthazar knelt down, “and I am so flattered you asked me. I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it. I guarantee you that you’ll have plenty asking for your dance card.”

“Mommy says I have a bedtime,” Beatrix complained with a very evident eye roll, already establishing herself as too grown for bedtimes.

“I’m sorry. I forgot you got too old for bedtimes. You’re a big girl now. We have curfews because we need our beauty sleep, so we feel our best,” Nesta reminded, patting her back. “Make sure you’re all packed, okay? We can’t let Pegasus miss out on the fun.”

“We’re going to see horses!” Beatrix screamed excitedly, all forgetting her prior disappointment. She rushed out of Nesta’s arms, disappearing into her room to grab her plushy winged companion. “Pegasus gets to meet his cousins!”

“He has horses,” Nesta confirmed to Balthazar, biting back a laugh.

Helion pulled out all the stops. It wasn’t a surprise to see the venue draped in gold and white. Beatrix gasped at the extravagance while Emerie hummed, appreciating the details. She plucked a glass from a nearby server, sipping the flute, and pointing to the back table.

“I think that’s us,” she claimed. “Table… 12? I’ll check it out. You two canvas the room. Find me something tasty,” she whispered to the giggling girl. “I’m dying here!”

“I want to dance!” Beatrix leap up and down. The chiffon of her skirt bounced with her, laced with fairy lights, and adorning a sparkly crown atop her head of dark-brown curls.

“You certainly are my child,” Nesta preened, smiling broadly as she delighted in the girl’s radiant glee. “Let’s put our stuff away and then wait for dinner. Remember, the bride and groom have the first dance, and then we can go crazy!” she knelt down to her level, riling her up with similar enthusiasm.

Beatrix was a social butterfly while Nesta had almost forgotten her debutant skills. She introduced herself to strangers when needed, which usually was the case when her daughter fluttered around and butted into conversations. Ever the extrovert. Hi, I’m Nesta Archeron. Helion is my boss. I’m his risk analysist specialist. This is my daughter, Beatrix. Beatrix – not Beatrice. Think Trixie.

Which Beatrix then bellows: Don’t call me Trixie! It’s Bea or Miss Archeron!

Emerie would butt in, proud as can be. They were an odd pair, and even odder Beatrix in her shimmering dress and crown, sparkling like an actual fairy princess. Nesta was dressed outside her comfort zone, opting for a long-sleeved black sequence top. The neckline was high, protecting herself from ogling eyes who’d always deviate to her larger bust. Emerie was the one who encouraged her to wear something grand – a big, red ballooning skirt that caught the eye.

Her daughter was so happy they were sparkling together. It’s the least she could do to look like twins. Anything for her baby Bea.

Emerie was the one who wore the same dress as she did New Years’ Eve. Gold sequence and short at the hip. If she was going to dance, she wasn’t going to be constrained in something formal and made her look twenty years older. Helion actually was a bit saddened to see he lacking her usually studded leather, but happy to see those ‘fabulous legs’to which she finished with a bite: ‘strong enough to choke a man out.’

Helion wasn’t even phased. If anything else, delighted. He grinned and bid them adieu, onto the next poor sap. Nesta covered poor Beatrix’s ears in vain. It’s not like she could censor Emerie forever. Bea was half Auntie Em and half her mother. That’s what she got for designated her as her emergency contact.

If Nesta ever needed a drink, it was then. Bea kindly handed her a bubbly water. She’d rather drown her drink than point out Helion was getting married that day. May all the Gods that exist help his poor wife – not even a wedding band could stop his streak.

“Interested in some gossip?” Emerie joined Nesta as the table. She was too eager to share.

“Damn right I am,” Nesta slapped the table. “Watchya got?”

“Tell me everything,” Beatrix joined.

“Is this safe for her to hear?” Nesta pointed at her daughter questionably.

“She’s heard worse,” Emerie waved off. “Alright, so!”

Apparently, Lucien was the love child between Helion and Autumn, the stunning redhead in white who didn’t look like she popped half a dozen kids, and Nesta recognized him immediately from the long-red, hippie hair. He definitely looked like his dad.

“Melanin is popping on that one,” Emerie mused, sipping her pinot noir. “I heard he went solo but his date is here, just with another man. Speaking of which,”

“I’m scared to know how you find these things out,” Nesta piped up but gripped with the new onslaught of information.

“Lesbian talk in the bathroom. I got a mouthful,” Emerie boasted with a broad grin.

“You’re shameless,” Nesta gawked. “I hope you didn’t…”

“I have my ways, and she has my number,” Emerie winked. “Anyways, Lucien’s date came with a different guy. And then it gets messier!”

“No!”

“Yes – okay – so I met this redhead named Gwyn, and Gwyn is the product of a very sophomore stint between Lucien and some girl at a college party. They tried to make it work but nada – zilch – and she took off with the twins somewhere and you know what happens to Catholic girls. Catholic school is the best and worst thing to happen to them, and blessing to us lesbians.”

“Why don’t I go to Catholic School?” Beatrix interjected.

“I can’t afford it and you’d hate the uniforms. They don’t allow creativity or colors,” Nesta quickly replied, supplying Beatrix a bag of gummies from her clutch. It distracted the girl enough to keep her busy.

“Gwyn is crazy, I love her, and she’s joining us for brunch next Sunday,” Emerie declared. “Okay, so Lucien reconnected with her when she was in college – so it’s supes awkward – and now both of them are now meeting their dads at the same time! Can you say awkward?”

“Okay…” Nesta followed along.

“Anyways, she works with a guy she has this massive crush on, and this cute co-worker is actually Lucien’s would-be date’s plus-one, and now it’s just hella awkward all around. Speaking of which, we have to rescue Gwyn in five minutes,” she checked her wrist. “She’s hiding in a stall, and I promised we’d get her out without being seen.”

“Yay! A rescue operation!” Beatrix celebrated.

“Damn right!” Emerie hailed. “Bitches stick together!”

“And we should watch the pours,” Nesta reminded, steering the wine away from her.

“So, we’re rescuing some poor redhead and help her avoid her crush, who’s with the woman who ditched the groom’s son on the day of his wedding. Wow, that family has terrible luck,” Nesta summarized, munching on some gummies herself. Beatrix separated the blue from the red, giving Nesta the latter.

Emerie spluttered a laugh.

“Oh – it gets worse. Helion invited some woman named Mor – and Mor slept with Helion a couple times.”

“Hey, hey, remember, child?” Nesta warned, cupping Bea’s ears. “Gross, c’mon,” Nesta whined. “I want to like him, but he keeps doing these things that make me cringe. That’s fu-messed up.”

“What’s fucked up is that Mor was also engaged to his wife’s eldest son,” Emerie cackled. “I told you – shit gets twisted.”

“Language,” Nesta reminded sternly. “Bad words – don’t say those things, please!” she urged her daughter. “Ouch, so both their exes are here,” she turned to Emerie, recoiling. “Wait – how did you know this?”

“Who do you think I was in the stall with… ‘talking’?” Emerie elaborated in quotation.

“Gwyn?!” Nesta shrilled a bit too loud. Emerie hushed her.

“No! The other woman! Mor! Hot blonde in red,” she hissed under the breath. “She’s so liquored up, I couldn’t get her to shut up, so she kept yapping and I… well…” she paid heed to the younger girl intently listening.

“You what?” Beatrix asked innocently enough.

“We hugged!” Emerie cheerfully lied. Nesta’s eyes rolled at the deflection.

“Hugging is nice thing to do, and we should do it a lot,” Nesta encouraged her daughter. She tapped the tabletop. “Okay, how about we rescue that poor girl? Gwyn?”

“Looks like we both get hot girls under our skirts tonight,” Emerie joked.

“One day she will catch onto these jokes, and I hope you are ready to give her that talk,” Nesta pointed to Emerie while Beatriz pulled up Nesta’s red ballroom skirt to unveil a crouching wedding guest. The tall redhead’s shoes poked out and Beatriz was trying to stretched the skirt out to cover them.

“Misses Berdara! Look – I’m helping!” Beatriz squealed. The shoes disappeared from sight.

“And you’re doing such a great job. You’re my favorite little helper,” Gwyn praised.

“And her music teacher no less,” Nesta groaned. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Berdara.”

“You can call me Gwyn,” the redhead laughed lightly. “I am hiding under your skirt after all.”

“This isn’t exactly the way I imagined how we would meet.” Nesta bowed in embarrassment.

“Well, you haven’t missed a parent-teacher conference yet, so that’s a good start,” Gwyn joked. “Okay, not sure how we can scuttle out of here, but let’s try anyway.”

“Slow, graceful, like a ballerina,” Emerie instructed.

“Like a duchess! Wear my crown!” Beatrix offered.

“I am Grace of Monaco,” Nesta hailed, fixing the plastic accessory atop her head with no shame whatsoever. Her stride was cautiously slow, and Beatriz ensured the train covered any trace of Gwyn.

“We’re secret agents, mommy! We’re helping Misses Berdara! This is awesome!” Beatriz squealed.

“You’re going to get so many extra credit points for this, Beatrix,” Gwyn said affectionately.

“Shh,” Emerie reminded, scoping out the hall. “Take off your shoes so they don’t make sound.” Beatrix knelt down and snatched the heels off of Gwyn’s feet upon Emerie’s instructions.

“This is so not sanitary,” Gwyn moaned quietly, scraping her palms and knees on the cold floor. “My dress is rented!”

“Super spy fairy princess, that is you, baby girl,” Nesta flashed her a tender smile. “I am so proud. Keep it up, Bea. You’re really stepping up for the team. I love you, baby girl.”

“Yes,” Beatriz fist pumped. “Love you, too, mommy,” she bounced happily behind her.

“I take it back – I love this giant ass skirt,” Emerie snorted. “Great emergency exit strategy… and other things,” Emerie schemed with a glint in her eyes.

“Mind out of the gutter, you trollop,” Nesta sang softly, focused dead ahead to the ballroom where the tabled were arranged. It would be there Gwyn would be deposited under one of them to hide for the remainder of the evening until she could find another exit, hidden under the long linen.

“What’s a trollop, mommy?” Beatrix asked, paddling along.

“Your Auntie Em.” Nesta replied coolly.

“Hey!” the defendant in question protested, swinging Gwyn’s set of heels. “By the way – are these red bottoms real?”

“No – I fixed them with spray paint on a set I found thrift shopping,” Gwyn replied.

“Shh,” Nesta aptly snapped at both, careful not to step on fingers. “That’s also ingenious, and we love you for that. Did Emerie confirm you’d be there at our next brunch? Wait – no – don’t answer that yet. Six more tables and you’re free and then we can continue this conversation.”

“Not exactly how I thought I’d meet my favorite students moms, but I can see why Beatriz is my favorite. You two are awesome,” Gwyn serenaded from under the table. Bea was thrilled to joined her and Nesta funneled them appetizers from time to time if a server passed. “I owe you big time. Thank you for being life savers!”

“Oh, no, she’s the lesbian, and I’m bi, but we’re not together as a couple. She’s my best friend, and we happen to live together. Nothing in this city is cheap,” Nesta spoke up, sure that no one would suspect Gwyn was under the table with so much ruckus happening. “And don’t think twice about the bathroom thing. We’ve all been there. It’s girl code.”

“Oh, okay,” Gwyn flushed with embarrassment.

“You wouldn’t be the first nor the last,” Emerie laughed it off. She was fixed on people watching – gathering intel – and snickering at a display here and there that kept her humored.

“We’re out of apple juice, mommy!” Beatrix whined.

“Can we say please?” Gwyn reminded.

“Can I please of some juice, mommy?”

“Here you go, baby,” Nesta supplied adoringly, slipping some under the linen.

“Thank you, mommy!” Beatrix quickly snatched it up.

“You’re welcomed, Bea. Be careful not to spill, okay?” Nesta returned in a coo, and then beginning to smooth down the surface

“I promise,” her daughter muffled back.

“I WANT TO DANCE WITH SOMEBODY! I WANT TO FEEL THE HEAL WITH SOMEBODY!” the quadruplet belted unceremoniously to the DJ. The floor was packed and Nesta was regretting her choice for black for the sheer amount of sweat compiling under her pits.

Bea had Gwyn tethered, dancing in circles, while Emerie protected Nesta’s backside from any drunk men who thought her provocative moves was an open invitation. “WITH SOMEBODY WHO LOVES ME!”

Bea loved the colorful lights and the loud singing. She spilled her punch on the floor, but Nesta promised it wasn’t a concern before tears could fall, with Gwyn already on top of it and piling napkins over the substance. Nesta kept mouthing her gratitude and offered to toss the garbage on their behalf.

Emerie scooped her up and swung her around, giving the girl a chance to be eye level with the rest of the attendants. She enjoyed being raised high, stretching her arms, and mimicking her mother’s favorite movie: Dirty Dancing. They had lost themselves into the iconic finale song when it played a few rounds prior.

“This place is huge. It’s like a castle!” Beatrix ogled the vast halls. Portraits deigned the walls, as did tall drapes and gold accents. “Where are we staying, mommy?”

“We got the room that looks over the pastures so you can see the horses,” Nesta giddily replied, skipping along with her daughter down the carpet.

“Yay!” her daughter squealed.

“I’m staying here,” Gwyn pointed at the door to their right. She had no need for a key as it was a private residence. She was the newly recognized granddaughter – and next in line to be heir after her estranged father. All of it was new and strange. “Thank you – for everything. I’ll see you back at school, I suppose, if I miss you tomorrow,” she bid. Emerie was the first to hug her, and then Bea, and Gwyn enveloped Nesta last as it happened in that order.

“It was… great to see you, though the circumstances could have been better,” Nesta laughed lightheartedly, half choking.

“I always like a good story,” Gwyn appreciated, concluding with a wink before the door closed behind her. “Good night!”

The got further down before Nesta stopped in her tracks.

“What – oh – hi,” Emerie lousily greeted the trio nearby.

“Hi,” the woman replied in awe. “Nesta?”

“Nesta?” her husband repeated harshly. She didn’t recognize him.

“Feyre? What – hi…” Nesta gawked. She barely registered the glare the man threw her way.

“Hi!” the little boy between the couple scurried forward. He stopped before Bea, slightly smaller, with jet black hair to match that of his – Nesta assumed – his father’s. His suit was caked with left over gravy and other mysterious goo. “Hi! I’m Nyx!”

“My – my son,” Feyre stammered, frozen in place.

“Hi, I’m Beatrix Archeron!” her daughter let go of her hand only to extend it out to Nyx. He shook it eagerly.

“Bea,” Nesta fumbled out, unable to pull away from seeing her sister – a stranger really. “My daughter, Bea. Beatrix, I mean.”

“You have a daughter…?” Feyre shook her head in panic. “I’m sorry – that’s rude – I’m sorry. She’s beautiful. Where’s uh – Tomas?”

Nesta flinched. “We’re not together anymore,” she hastily replied, hoping for the topic to drop.

“Haven’t for a long time,” Emerie emphasized with a glare of her own. She didn’t miss the animosity the man was casting. Rhys noted this and dropped his gaze, feeling the heat.

“My daddy left before I was born,” Bea pitched, unbothered. “Mommy said he was mean!”

“That explains… oh. I sent you cards, and you never replied… I did send it to your old address…” Feyre fell into a mumble. “I didn’t know you moved out for good.”

Or had a daughter, went unsaid. They had missed so much when they cut her off.

“You have a son,” Nesta observed. She felt her stomach punched as she realized she had no clue – and now everything she missed was in front of her. He had to be about five. “Hi, Nyx. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” Nyx shyly wavered off, skunking off back to his parents. The exact opposite of Bea who was so comfortable confronting strangers.

“That’s your auntie Nesta,” Feyre addressed her, nudging Nyx back to the trio. “Go say hi.” She turned to Bea, beaming though the smile was strained from shock. “Hi Bea! My name is Feyre. I’m your auntie!”

She opened her arms to welcome Beatrix, but the girl stayed close to Emerie, knitting her brows in confusion.

“Auntie Em is my only Auntie,” Bea said in confusion, turning to Em. Feyre flinched and her husband’s face hardened. “Mommy? Is this my auntie, too?”

“Yes, this is my sister Feyre,” Nesta knelt down to console her. This is not how she wanted to introduce them. “I have another sister named Elain, too. You never met them before.”

“We didn’t know,” Feyre choked up. “You never said anything. She’s here, too, if you want to see her,” Feyre rushed. “She’d be glad to see you. You look well, Nesta.”

No longer a drunk. No longer angry. No longer depressed and reckless in her self-harm. They simply blamed her and walked away for being upset at their father’s failure and left her behind. Nesta had felt forgotten and abandoned all over again – and she wasn’t sure how long it took to forgive the cut.

Nesta kept her daughter’s attention. “Why haven’t I met my other aunties?” Beatrix asked.

#pro nesta archeron #pro nesta #acotar au #snippet

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october-writes · 4 months

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‘A word of advice,’ Nina leaned towards Ada, ‘Learn when to recognise a lost cause. They’re already dead, Ada. That includes Delta. We let you have your fun. But everything you think you see in him, it’s just leftover electricity and misfiring neurons. Let it go.’

She held eye contact with Ada for a moment longer and the younger woman thought she saw a tremor at the corner of the doctor’s jaw. Then Nina turned on her heel and swept out of the Conference Room leaving behind the specter of her musky perfume.

Ada folded her arms across her chest. She paced the floor and her sneakers squeaked obnoxiously against the linoleum.

She couldn’t fault Dr Parris, even as she seethed at getting nowhere with their conversation. Nina’s motives for sticking with Umbrella were hardly different than the ones Ada had proudly admitted to when she’d accepted the job a year ago. Ada had known Umbrella was shady at best, downright unethical at worst. But the risk had been worth it if Umbrella could resuscitate her flagging career.

Of course, she’d never imagined they’d sink to the depths they had. Raccoon City had been easy to hand-wave away as an accident, especially with Umbrella working overtime to defend themselves against the Government’s lawsuit.

If she was honest with herself, Ada hadn’t thought too hard about the doomed city or its inhabitants. It wasn’t her responsibility, not then and not now.

But Delta had changed her. So had Emery and Donovan. Now, for the first time in her life, she felt responsible for someone besides herself and it was like feeling the best and worst of everything all at once. She felt invincible even as the floor crumbled beneath her feet.

She’d lost Donovan. Emery was also gone. And if she didn’t act fast, Delta would be carried off to The Icarus to be submitted for inhumane electroshock until everything that made him him had been burned away.

But she had nothing to bargain with to keep him safe. She had no allies onboard The Persephone anymore.

Ada stopped in her tracks, her hands falling to her sides. She knew then what she had to do. All she needed was the strength to follow through with her plan.

Read the rest on AO3

#fic: pandora #ada wong #resident evil fanfiction #aeon #leon x ada #ada x leon

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djag64 · 3 months

Audio

(DJ AG64) The weekly radioshow OVERTIME 273 is in Podcast from now with all the best of Dance released last week. On this appointment the new entries: Sonny Fodera, Becky Hill, Gareth Emery, Annabel, LSR/CITY, Ekonovah, Dom Dolla, David Guetta, Kim Petras, Armin van Buuren, Goodboys. Enjoy and have Good Fun!!!!!!!!!

#SoundCloud #music #DJ AG64 #radioshow #Dance #dancepop #trance

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cheerstotheelites-if · 1 year

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Oof Fleur noo... 😭 I'll get her a new plushie and fistfight her parents in a Denny's parking lot. They boutta catch these hands real quick. So how about Buttercup - Does your OC have any odd quirks/habits? and Rose - What is your OC's favourite form of self-care? for the gang and lil Emery.

Ask list

Get their asses, anon ( の •̀ ∀-)و

Buttercup - Does your OC have any odd quirks/habits?

Weylyn: He does have a habit to freeze suddenly from whatever he's doinf and look at a random direction. No one really knows why he does it.

Fleur: She bites down on the knuckle of her finger and pace when she's busy thinking or planning something heavily

Zephyrine: She randomly knocks on any wall or flat surface she's closest too, mostly absent mindedly whenever she walks near them.

Eliseo: He always slaps the wall above any doorframe he passes under. It started as a way to see how hard he can spike and how high he can jump, but it became a habit overtime.

Cooper: He chews on the draw strings of his hoodie, the plastic part specifically, when he's bored and has nothing to fidget with or if Fleur's hand is too far away to grab and play with.

Ophelia: She does tend to press down on an already cracked knuckle until it stings badly when she tends to overthink.

Emery: Well… he sure does like eating any beetle he finds. Which is bad for two reasons.

~•~•~

Rose - What is your OC's favourite form of self-care?

Weylyn, Zephyrine, Eliseo: Oh these three go have make up put on, courtesy of Zeph, go on a freaking spa day all paid for by Eliseo, or just have dinner together, with food made by Weylyn of course. It's a tradition for them that started when Weylyn felt really low at one point, and Zeph and Eliseo wanted to make him feel better. It hasn't stopped since then, and I don't think it will.

Fleur: Long baths with scented candles, bath bombs, gentle music in the background, dimmed lights. Yes, she's taking the bougie route of self-care, but it's her bougie self-care. But that's just her when she's alone and that rarely happens.

Cooper: Shopping, surprisingly, with Fleur. He always drags her with him when he feels the need to treat himself and what better way than to share that experience. It just feels right for him to drag Fleur into his form of self-care because gods know she needs it too.

Ophelia: Cleaning. It's calming for her to clean her room, since it kinda gets messy most of the time with how much things she owns. She doesn't want her room to be a waste dump and get used to the garbage around her. She always asks her siblings to help remind her when she needs to clean since she tends to be a bit forgetful, and it's genuinely loving of them to help her with that and with cleaning.

Emery: Movie night with his favorite people! Emery is a simple lil guy and all he wants is company.

#RO ask #Character ask #curious anon #Weylyn #Fleur #Zephyrine #Eliseo #Cooper #Ophelia #Emery

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bunfettii · 1 year

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hi! first post on here.. i’m kinda nervous i haven’t used tumblr a day in my life but i wanted to give it a try. here’s my overtime oc, emery! i drew this a week ago cause i found it funny how turnip liker released a character with the same name as her and i thought it’d be a cool addition to her character ^__^ yk what i mean. i had fun drawing emery byran and i’m probably gonna draw more overtime characters soon.. in the mean time.. enjoy this silly thing.

#overtime #josiah overtime #overtime demo #josiah nguyen #overtime game #horror games #oc x canon #canon x oc #self ship #oc #original character

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goosebreakroom · 1 year

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Get fucked everyone I actually hate every character I reblogged here

Thats right I hate

- Sonic.EXE and his many variants

- MX From the Mario 85’ Creepypasta

- Mario & Bowser from the Mario Series

- Majin Sonic, Neo Metal Sonic, & Shadow The Hedgehog from the STH Series

- Peppino & Fake Peppino From Pizza Tower

- Hank J. Wimbleton, Deimos, Sanford, 2BDamned, Sherriff, Tricky (& Hoffnarr), Jebus (& Jebidiah Christoff), and every other fucking Madness Combat character (which btw is all of them)

White Hank from the Madcom Fandom

- Moondrop and Sundrop (Sunrise is a better name) from the FNAF series

- Ingo, Emmet, Cyrus, Larry, Piers, & Red from the Pokémon series

- Heavy, Sniper, Medic, Soldier, Demoman, Engineer, & Classic Pyro from the TF2 series

- Annie, Garcello & Tabi from the FNF Mod Community

- Senpai from Friday Night Funkin’

- John Ward & Father Garcia from the FAITH series

- Adriel from Naninadz’ Tumblr

- Glitchy Red & Steven from the Pokemon Creepypasta Community

- Josiah, Damian, & Emery from Overtime

- Professor Membrane from Invader Zim

- Bob Velseb from Spooky Month

- Clauneck from Cult Of The Lamb

- Mr Grizz, Murch, Spyke from the Splatoon Series

- Slenderman from…err…um…well I still havent where to credit his origin (That one contest? Marble Hornets??? the Creepypasta community?????)

- Pico from the Pico’s School series

- Sans, Papyrus, all their AU variants I reblogged here.

And also the other fuckers I didnt wanna scroll down to write! Go fuck yourselves!!

Kidding :3 April Fools u nerds.

#[Left The Mic On]#thats it #thats the joke #just a big long fuckin list of names #my fingies hurt so bad..#this was not worth it

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nottinghillhq · 1 year

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welcome to notting hill mack, we’re super excited to have you here, you’ve got twenty-four hours to send in your accounts!

CHYLER LEIGH. SHE + HER / have you ever heard of CONCRETE ANGEL by gareth emery well, it describes GENEVIVE PETROVA to a tee! the thirty year old, and NICU NURSE was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more anxious or more OPTIMISTIC instead? anyway, they remind me of hours spent in medical school digging her head into her textbooks, staying up all night to pass exams, the hustle and bustle of an emergency room on the daily, trying not to take home the emotional burden of her job, a long sleeked back chocolate ponytail as her signature look, falling asleep whenever she has the few seconds to spare, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MACK / SHE / HER / 27 / PST ]

BRIGHT VACHIRAWIT. HE + HIM / have you ever heard of WHEN SEPTEMBER ENDS by green day well, it describes CHE SAETANG to a tee! the twenty three year old, and DRUG DEALER was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more sneaky or more ENTITLED instead? anyway, they remind me of becoming the poster child for marijuana advocacy in countries that still ruled it illegal, living up to your reputation as the family disappointment, refusing to work a regular job and fit into the system like everybody else around him, finding any way to make money on the side and never letting giving up be an option, a trail of broken hearts behind him, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MACK / SHE / HER / 27 / PST ]

JORDAN CALLOWAY. HE + HIM / have you ever heard of THE ART OF PEER PRESSURE by kendrick lamar well, it describes MICAH MITCHELLS to a tee! the twenty seven year old, and BARTENDER @ WOLFE'S DEN was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more dry or more POISED instead? anyway, they remind me of varsity jackets from his high school sports career, long lost dreams of going pro, running from a past that is bound to keep haunting you, a fresh haircut seemingly every time you run into him, maturing overtime through age and experience, taming a once known wild card who couldn't be predicted , maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MACK / SHE / HER / 27 / PST ]

LAURA HARRIER. SHE + HER / have you ever heard of TITANIUM by david guetta well, it describes DANDELION PEARSON to a tee! the thirty year old, and RETIRED RUNWAY MODEL was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more nosy or more POISED instead? anyway, they remind me of more than ten years in the high fashion world of europe, long beautiful legs that made her a perfect runway model candidate from birth, longing to settle down and share her life with another half, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MACK / SHE / HER / 27 / PST ]

LUKE HEMMINGS. HE + HIM / have you ever heard of KING FOR A DAY by pierce the veil, well, it describes BLAKE DANIELS to a tee! the twenty nine year old, and REAL ESTATE MOGUL was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more comfortable or more PERSUASIVE instead? anyway, they remind me of choosing the safe option because you're afraid to fail at trying something new, a family real estate dynasty that you never really had passion for or asked to be apart of in the first place, family dinners that lack the most important fundament of any healthy relationship, long golden locks that dangle below his ear, always well taken care of and styled, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MACK / SHE / HER / 27 / PST ] (filling jamie rizzoli's wanted connection) MIA GOTH. THEY + SHE / have you ever heard of PYRAMIDS by frank ocean, well, it describes ORLANDO MCGHEE to a tee! the twenty four year old, and EXOTIC DANCER was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more callous or more ADVOCATING instead? anyway, they remind me of stacked odds against you from birth, erratic relationships that are intense and short lasting, being a product of your environment, people judging and misunderstanding you but not realizing they wouldn't have survived the things that life has dealt you in your twenty eight years, watching hope leave her eyes by the mere age of twelve, having to grow up way before you're meant to ever be exposed to the world of adults, numbing the pain in whichever way possible, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MACK / SHE / HER / 27 / PST ] CIERRA RAMIREZ. SHE + HER / have you ever heard of LA VIDA ES FRIA by jason joshua, well, it describes HAVANA LOZANO to a tee! the twenty six year old, and INSTAGRAM MODEL was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more shallow or more DARING instead? anyway, they remind me of thick raven hair inching down her back that she refuses to cut no matter how long it may reach, mantras of beauty is pain humming through their mind at all times, having an extensive fifteen step skincare routine involving the most expensive of vegan skincare products, a light pink mini fridge specially made for chilling skincare, always plugged up in her bathroom, draining her bank accounts as fast as the money is placed in the account, spending all of her money on material things hoping to keep up with the latest trends and to fill a void deep inside , maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MACK / SHE / HER / 27 / PST ] (filling mariana lozana wanted connection) REECE WITHERSPOON. SHE + HER / have you ever heard of YESTERDAY by the beatles, well, it describes CAROLINE SPENCER to a tee! the forty three year old, and HOUSEWIFE was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more aesthetic based or more DETAIL ORIENTED instead? anyway, they remind me of a picture perfect hand painted family portrait hanging over the fire place of her home, the real housewives of beverly hills, carpooling with other rich moms in the neighborhood, sending your children to the finest of private schools, having a doctor as a husband, being the strong family matriarch and carrying the emotional weight of the family on her back, with little to no support from her husband who underappreciates all she does to run the household and keep the family unit alive and seemingly perfect to the outside world, feeling alone in a house full of people who say they love you, accidentally isolating those that actually care while trying to hang onto the mess that is crumbling before your eyes, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MACK / SHE / HER / 27 / PST ] (filling loretta abernathy wanted connection)

#nottinghillaccepted

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chryzure-archive · 2 years

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My head is very empty today e;aouheawoiefj but consider... Chrysi and Jacks being happy. Domestically so. Happy ending AU where somehow, someway, everything turns out just fine for them - they find a cure for Chrysi's faetelle, Jacks learns overtime how to be mortal, and how beautiful that can be, and they dance in the kitchen and get each other through rough days, and they just... get to be happy. Consider that.

i’m considering, i’m considering… jacks and chrysi going to emery’s track meets and her musicals… going on a summer vacation to a beach house… taking polaroids and singing while playing board games… jacks being poisoned because he loves chrysi and her enemies want to hurt her because that’s the person she cares deeply about—

#GHOSTHUNTING ON THE SIDE HAPPENING TOO #.asks #m.filly✨#s.chrysijacks #jokes aside. i rlly like domestic chrysijacks 😭 i jst also cant b without my curses and ghosts :((( i like drama

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notkiioki · 2 years

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Overtime meme dump

Man sorry for the inactivity, was drawing memes for a good while and get a random irl problem attack but I'm still alive anyway yay

Enjoy this memes h3h3, now i shall vanished again until i had something to post ⚰️

Indonesian ver + Josiah in bathroom

#overtime game #overtime demo #damian overtime #josiah overtime #emery overtime #gavin overtime #overtime oc #josiah nguyen #emery byran #damian stasiuk #original character #jayden gray #jeremiah immanuel hartono

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asakiooi · 2 years

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Josiah and buddy going to get mac donaldos

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celestialvexation · 1 year

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Bro what if the murder trio from overtime shared MC?

snsndns i can see that happening at some point, but don't expect either of them to be fair in regards to how long they spend time with MC x3

#overtime game #josiah nguyen #damian stasiuk #emery bryan #turnip liker #josiah's often the main offender of that ajsbsj #Anonymous

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adelindschade · 2 years

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A Thousand Offerings (A Thousand Cuts, Part 6)

Emerie and Nesta make a plan; Cassian makes a plea. It’s time for action. Tidbit of Gwynriel

Nesta despised war and all the carnage in its wake. It was too much chaos for her to stomach and yet, it was a perpetual state in Illyria. She shuddered as she saw a row of corpses piled onto the pyre, as most would prefer. A mass grave of ashes. The males believed the females took too much space as it was.

“Old age, some of them,” Emerie soothed as they paid their respects. “Disease, others.”

“Starvation, you mean,” Nesta gritted back under her breath. Emerie nodded, mindful of prying ears. “And the rest?”

“It was quick,” Emerie swallowed uncomfortably, the unsaid unimaginable. This whole camp was pillaged needlessly, and those who survived the worse would argue they’d rather be dead.

“They work them to death,” Nesta trembled, hands fisted at her side, “and kill without reason.” No one does anything about it. That’s the part that infuriated her.

Females were disposable, discarded as trash, and it sickened her as they watched the fire consume the remains. The sound the dead burning matched the volume of the weeping from those who knew the deceased. It was out of respect that Nesta endured the dreadful noise, flinching with each crack, and reluctant to leave.

“I appreciate you being here, as do the others,” Emerie assured, squeezing her hand.

They had spent the days doing their services. Tending to the cuts made by cruel men, preventing infection, offering teas and what little they could scrape from gardens to promote a quicker recovery, as well as joining the elders as they began to make quilts in mass quantities to prepare the orphans. It was the best they could do since the only roofs were afforded by the Lords. The rest had to contend with make-shift shelters.

Nesta hadn’t make a quilt before, but it was group effort. Hours stitching at a time, mingling as a unit, and conversing in the peace of a cabin that was served to feed the warriors during the day. They had to work quickly in the early morning hours and manage by candlelight at night.

Her presence was a peculiar one at first, but she had become a welcomed addition. Not many Illyrians had seen a High Fae before, let alone been offered a hand. For Nesta to sully her hands with their blood and offer comfort when the ordeal of mending their wounds was over, seemed unworldly to these sorts of outcasts.

She wasn’t treated like a celebrity or a guest of honor. Most Illyrians resented High Fae in the same manner they had been treated. Her reputation as a witch only emphasized the hostility. Overtime, the animosity waned, and she’d be greeted civilly at the local gatherings – gawked at by youths, received curtly by domestics, and avoided at all costs by the males.

That altered when she proved she was nothing like the circle of which presided over these lands, dirtying her clothes similar to the ones worn by locals, determined to carry her own weight, and administer aid with what little experience she recalled from the war to assist the mutilated females after the horrific public affair.

“I should have done something,” she hissed.

“And start a war? They’d put a bounty on your head if you reprimanded them in any way,” Emerie reminded sullenly. She glanced around the sorrowful crowd. “Or worse, take it out on any of these females to prove a point. Intervening would only have made it worse in the long run.”

“That’s the kind of excuse Rhys would give,” Nesta spat with vitriol.

“In this instance, it’s true,” Emerie sighed in dismay, looking equally troubled. “There’s a small dinner tonight hosted by one of the mothers. Her daughter succumbed to an injury.” At the hands of her Lord, went unmentioned. “She’s honoring her and the rest of the fallen with a humble meal. You’re invited. You made an impression at quilting.”

“Small dinner?” A secret one. Anything celebrating death besides that of a warrior so close to the Rite was more than frowned upon by the authorities. Attachments weren’t encouraged among the lesser. To maintain the status quo instated severe punishments.

“We’ll be discrete. Take the backway,” Emerie divulged.

“I don’t know their language,” Nesta frowned. “I should but I’ve been slow to learn.”

“You’ve been here for over a month. You’ve interacted with us more than our so-called leaders, without knowing our tongue. You’ll get there eventually but consider yourself an honorary ally,” Emerie charged warmly, pulling her closer to give a one-armed hug.

It was a solemn dinner, sparce in seconds, and mindful of each scoop she took. She decided to take her turn last, prioritize the natives. The food lacked spice and color – the bare essentials including beans and rice and some steamed vegetables – with meat absent, likely taken by the males for their own supply. Still, Nesta expressed gratitude, and made a show to eat it all until her plate was clean.

“Thank you for hosting us,” Nesta addressed the grieving mother. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Embraces came second nature, and she didn’t realize until after she looped her arms around the brittle female how forthcoming she had been. Before she could retract and apologize profusely for her boldness, she felt arms swell around her waist, and reciprocate with half the strength.

Emerie translated for her. The female replied in similar tongue.

“She said you are kind, and she remembers how patient you were with Corinne.”

“Corinne? The – she was twelve, right? I remember her…” Nesta flustered, blinking back moisture as she recalled the whimpering child. Nesta had been open with her, showing off her own brace, attempting to bond with the traumatized youngling. She mourned her mobility and Nesta had shared her own struggle.

Can I have one, too? Will I be able to fly again with one of those for my wings?

Nesta didn’t know how to answer that. The damage was extensive, and no amount of bracing would replace the irreparably compromised cartilage. Nesta frown, unable to give an answer. Corinne read into the silence and looked down in defeat, frowning immensely and offering only a few noises of pain when Nesta had to apply more pressure than she liked to the oozing tendons.

“She was sensitive about her wings, and you took extra care to reassure her as you patch them up,” Emerie recalled. “She is grateful for your gentleness. Corinne was in good hands. She did not say it, but you’ll be needed in the future, when this happens again…” Emerie said the last part bitterly, adopting a scowl.

“Of course,” Nesta grappled, savoring the embrace as she couldn’t recall the last time her own mother had given her any kind of kindness. Nesta lingered in the embrace, admittedly selfish.

“Corinne would like to see you,” Emerie translated again as the mother spoke – a bit too quickly for Nesta to make out. She knew some words but not enough to depict a full sentence. “You two talked about things that made her feel… like you knew her,” she worded after a moment to process. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Certainly,” Nesta produced, nodding eagerly. “I wouldn’t be oppose at all.”

Nesta hated war. The systematic violence against the vulnerable. The countless loss of life. The carnage didn’t stop at the battlefield. It was felt beyond that. That’s all they prepared for in Illyria. She could understand why Rhysland, and his followers, despised it, couldn’t wait to exit these desolate lands, but she couldn’t fathom why they would continue to allow this cruelty to persist – all in exchange to groom an army at a moment’s notice. Ample in supply and dedicated to the art of blood shedding. It brought vile to her mouth.

She had cried herself to sleep numerous nights since she spent that day tending to broken tendons and sheered wings. She didn’t know how to cope just as much as the actual victims, but she tried to put on her brave face, assure them all would be well, and that it’d be over soon as she carefully minded the sensitive skin when she wiped it clean of blood.

She had scrubbed her hands clean – and then she scrubbed them raw – and then she scrubbed them bloody again as she couldn’t get rid of the filth. She detested blood, and guts, and couldn’t stomach the sounds of those in peril, or suffering damning injuries. That kind of suffering produced nightmarish noises that were primal in nature, haunting her dreams.

She wept in Emerie’s arms, and Emerie’s mask broke not long after as the two wailed on the stoop, unable to hide how the horrendous morning affected them. None of them slept that night, catatonic by the next morning as they were expected to carry on with life along with the rest of the camp. Instead, they closed up shop early, went around various tents and cottages, offering herbs and samples of meats.

Nesta didn’t like hunting, but she attempted the long bow as it was the first thing she identified in Balthazar’s Smithy. The blacksmith was hesitant, and she knew she wasn’t fit to traipse in the forestry with her healing leg, but she also knew she’d be better equipped to learn the skill now than later. The camp wouldn’t provide food for the females, or orphans, and any food they collected themselves would be commandeered by the greedy males who believed themselves more entitled due to the nature of their work. Those withholding would be severely punished.

Nesta wasn’t someone the Lords would feel brave enough to correct should she take up the skill and distribute her gatherings to those in need. They’d be too suspicious of anything she touched. If she was in a position to provide without interference, so be it. She was the awful witch – might as well capitalize on it.

The best she could provide were two rabbits and a squirrel, caught in traps Emerie crafted near the shop. They could eat without the meager meat, opting for whatever Cassian dumped on their doorstep, and utilizing the rest in their charitable distributions.

Fresh fruits, vegetables, herbs, strips of jerky, some linen they repurposed for bandages, and scarves for the upcoming chill the cut from the extravagant red gown Feyre had sent weeks prior.

They delivered them at night, when the males were asleep, and females were hesitant receive a stranger’s knock. After the second night to complete their rounds, a knock wasn’t necessary as females let them in, and exchanged the goods for a warm cup of mild tea.

“Nesta and Emerie have taken up the long bow again,” Azriel indulged over dinner.

“Without consulting any of us?” Cassian questioned, startled, and then becoming irate over his exclusion. Azriel and Cassian were experts – they could have instructed them with much better success.

“I suppose not,” Azriel replied, equally mystified. “They’ve been doing target practice behind the shop. I don’t know who’s the better shop but either target suggest they have ways to go.”

“Where’d they get the long bows? They are exclusive to males,” Cassian furrowed his brows.

“Balthazar,” Gwyn pitched, eating contently besides Azriel. She playfully teased Azriel with a forkful of chicken and redacted it before he could bite, laughing joyfully. “Not so fast,” she taunted, finishing the sampling. She grinned victoriously.

“One of these days you’ll mean it,” his brother growled under his breath.

“Hmm, I like my sleep,” she rejoiced in a sing-song voice.

“Of course, you put sleep above all else,” Azriel remarked, rolling his eyes.

“I barely get enough as it is with you around keeping me busy,” she chuckled.

The domesticity between Azriel and his latest fling – that being Gwyn, who slowly but certainly made her place known in the House of Wind – upset Cassian. More so because it inspired jealousy, and he wasn’t alone. Elain and Mor had been put out by Azriel’s sudden absence, and how excluded they’ve become as he favored spending time with the infectious redhead over his own friends.

“Balthazar,” Cassian repeated, tasting bitterness as he did. “He’s teaching them?”

“Winter is coming up and they need to hunt for food,” Gwyn indulged. “He’s a decent teacher but a better blacksmith.”

“Nesta is receiving care packages,” Cassian reminded.

“And they’re using that to help the females in the camp,” Gwyn supplied, having more insight due to their active correspondence. “They appreciate the assistance. They get next to nothing there. Nesta is devising a plan to forge for food. The males won’t touch it because they think it’s poisoned, with her being a witch, and all that nonsense; and they won’t go near her regardless. I doubt they’ll try to stop her,” she gleamed proudly.

“She’s taking up hunting… for the females?” Cassian balked. The irony didn’t escape him. They gave her so much grief for not taking up the job on Feyre’s behalf but now here she was, in a foreign landscape, braving the elements to protect and provide for strangers. It didn’t make sense and yet, it made all the sense.

“Admirable,” Azriel chalked up, smiling softly at the update.

“She’s also taking up blacksmithing, sort of. She was curious and helped him out in the forge. Not the best idea considering she’s novice at it but good for her. I’d love to make a blade. Az, can I make a blade? I want to personalize mine.”

“Later, when you can prove you can properly handle one,” Azriel smirked.

“I play with yours all the time,” she pouted. “It’s long enough and I have two hands.”

He sputtered out his wine and trembled in low laughter. Cassian rolled his eyes, disgusted by the innocent display between them.

“I’d call her the Silver Majesty.” Gwyn harrumphed.

“I’ll bestow you a sword when you can make a better name,” he stammered, red in the face as he was slow to recover from his coughing fit. It was nice to see his brother loosen up after centuries of being reserved and stiff. However, Cassian couldn’t help himself. The tang of envy soured his appetite.

“I’d wish Nesta would tell us,” Cassian grumbled. “We could help.”

Emerie doubted it, and so did Nesta. He wished he could prove it to them. He would in the next care package. He’d triple his supplies, knowing they’d be put to good use, and not wasting away in some corner unopened.

“I miss her. I want to see her,” Gwyn advocated. “I’d love to meet to Balthazar. He sounds like a comedian and I’m missing out on all the shenanigans.”

“I’d like to keep my sanity,” Azriel bid. “You three together would spell trouble and I won’t even start on Balthazar,” he kissed the crown of her head as he dispatched himself.

“Whatever happened to fulfilling my every wish and want?” she bellowed, loud enough to be heard across the house and its extensive rooms.

Azriel resounding laughter replied.

“If she wants to take up the long bow, she can ask me. It’s my specialty,” Rhys complained, intertwining his fingers as they conducted a private meeting past midnight.

“You know she won’t,” Cassian replied, “and she shouldn’t.”

“Why is that?” Rhys questioned bitterly.

“Don’t spoil it for her,” Cassian glared back. “If she can take up hunting for the females, we can do more to protect them. We should be following her lead.” The irony that Rhys should be shadowing her example didn’t miss him. Rhys looked repulsed at the insinuation.

“If she’s weaponizing her reputation as the big, bad witch, then I’d say she has it handle,” Rhys declined.

“They are starving!” Cassian argued, growing louder as his patience wore thin.

“She’ll hunt for them, but she can’t bother to aid her sister,” Rhys mulled over, deeply rooted in his bias.

“Why are you criticizing her for doing your job? She’s helping them – more than we have!” Cassian stood his ground, too.

“Excuse me?” Rhys came to a rise, his power radiating in droves as his temper flared. Cassian’s siphons glowed in response, ready for battle.

“She has won them over and she scares the daylights out of the males. She’s using whatever advantage she has to be of use, and you can’t stop badmouthing her, while sitting here useless as two shits as you make every excuse possible to not lift a fucking finger!” he roared.

“That’s what you’re for! You’re supposed to be my general!” Rhys frothed at the mouth as he met Cassian’s wrath in tandem. His errand boy – that’s what Cassian equated to – and he stilled at the revelation, bones chilled. An errand boy disguised as an elevated General.

“And they’re our people, too!”

“Velaris comes first. Our people come first!”

“They are our people, too!” Cassian shouted back, insisting. “These wings are our pride! We triumphed in the Rite! We can’t pick and choose what we prioritize and what we ignore! We are Illyrian and we have a responsibility! Not to rule them but to provide, too!”

“I’m the High Lord!”

“Exactly – you have an obligation! That won’t matter when we have a rebellion on our hands, and Nesta is in the middle of it. Tell me, does Azriel have any validity in his statement that Nesta might just join them after everything she’s witnessed, and endured?”

“She’d never go against her sister,” he hissed.

“But she’ll take down a tyrant just as she did with Hybern, and that’s what they see you as,” Cassian reminded, stark in the face. “She’s the key and she’s doing everything you should to win them over.”

“So, we install her as an emissary, or intelligence. It’d be perfect,” Rhys suggested. Cassian was seeing red. Rhys wasn’t getting it and Nesta wasn’t going to be exploited further. He’d make sure of it.

“It’s a shame you aren’t doing the same because you think some magic claim usurps all else. Let’s not forget Amarantha installed new Lords when others rebelled.” Rhys stiffened at the taboo mention, power pulsating as his rage simmered to the surface. “Would you rather pull from the court coffers to fund a war or to keep the peace? Pick your battles, Rhys. What’s important to you? Your pride or your people? What’ll cost you more?”

#nessian #nessian fanfic #gwynriel #a thousand cuts

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6-0xy · 2 years

Text

• So… new Overtime update am I right?

• But seriously, there is so much to unpack here.

• So for starters, thanks to the video that the creator released, we were introduced to a TON of new characters and info!

• Here’s a small list for ya!

• Two Receptionist

• Damian Stasiuk

• Emery Byran

• Gavin

• So with that out of the way, let’s get on with the info.

• Damian S.

• Damian S. is one of the first people we meet at the beginning of the game. When we meet him, he’s cleaning up a mess of monster energy drinks, obviously left by Josiah. Through him, we learn that Josiah’s last name is Nguyen, which is later confirmed when we meet him later in the game. Apparently, Josiah has a tendency of taking Damian’s cubicle, as he says that he doesn’t remember his cubicle being that dirty when he left, and he also tells the player to tell Josiah to stay out of his cubicle. He also mentions that Josiah doesn’t even work in the same department as the player, saying he either worked as Janitorial staff or as

• Thanks to this, we learn that these two seem to have a dislike for each other. Damian obviously doesn’t like Josiah because he steals his cubicle whenever he’s gone, and Josiah because, although this is just my theory, gets to work next to the player. I only say this though because the creator of the game (@turnip_liker) confirmed that Josiah kills the player’s coworkers because he either a) deeply cares for the player or b) they have a past together. Josiah possibly takes advantage of Damian’s absence and uses is it to get closer to the player, which further pushes the idea that Josiah is obsessed or a yandere for the player.

• The player also seems to know Damian, but that’s obvious considering that their cubicles are right next to each other.

• After a talk with Jackson, the player uses the elevator (which works this time) and heads down to Finance to help a lady named Sarah with her computer. In short, the player meets one Emery Byran who informs them that Sarah wasn’t there, that her husband had taken a fall and she had the be there for him. The player gets skeptical, but Emery ensures them, saying that he’d bring the player to her empty desk himself, but he and the others were very busy. Through this convo, the reader asks more questions, and we learn that Emery had been working at this company for only 2 months, and that he doesn’t really talk to his co-workers at all due to them all being old and not very talkative.

• That’s about as much we get out of him for now, but when gameplays are uploaded onto YouTube, I will update this with all the new available info.

• We had back to IT, and we go to tell Jackson about the whole Sarah things which he knows about. Then we encounter a rather particular fellow. His name, when we talk to him, is also Damian! He apparently knows a lot of stuff about everyone, and acts as the main source of info for the player. We don’t get much out of this guy, but once I play the game myself, I’ll update this because there is an option to ask about Josiah!

• We get a call from Gary who says he wants to have a friendly chat with the reader! It’s pretty much the same as the demon before the new update except you can’t just just ignore him this time! Because if you do, he sites that you have to be there in order to pick up the phone. Gary then gets mad at the player, and tells them that this what they were gonna have a little chat about. Just a little reference for to the original Overtime demo!

• So the player heads back down to marketing N’s sends up meeting Josiah, whose washing his hand at the water cooler because of a paper cut. He asks the player if he’s seen Jackson, says he has a gift for him coming up. Here, we have two options. One of the Allie’s the reader to ask what Josiah has against Jackson, and the other allows you to say that you already know it’s the USB drive.

• Now THIS is very interesting! This implies that the player remembers what happened last time! But it’s actually out of order. The gift he is preparing for Jackson is the USB drive, but this has already happened, hasn’t it? Nope. Turns out that this is before then, and when you tell Josiah about he, he’s surprised about the fact that you know, but plays it off.

• When you go to leave, the elevator gets stuck, and when you turn around, you see Josiah. He’s leaned up against the back of the elevator fall, and then there a flash of light. Multiple scenes flash before the player, and they are all very interesting.

• In the first flash, and he camera slides across the scene, showing us Emery standing in the middle of a room with blood splattered everywhere. In the second flash we see Damian S. at his desk, the cubicle, floor, and wall covered in blood. Handing on the side of the cubicle is Josiah’s hat and a hockey stick. With this, I have a couple of new theories!

• My first theory is that two seem to know something about Josiah and may be associated with him in some way. Perhaps they all kill for the sake of the player, acting as love rivals, buts it’s unlikely based off our interactions.

• My second theory is that Emery and Damian S. are working in association with Josh, but more importantly Emery. It’s possible that he’s a close friend that’s helping Josiah get away with murder.

• Those are all the main things I wanted to talk about however. But here’s a one more theory I have!

• The player mentions how Josiah is good at getting away with things. This plays perfect into the role of obsessive yandere as he can easily just go talk and interact with the player with little to no repercussions. But why is that? Even Damian S. says that if he did what Josiah did, he’d get fired. I say it’s because Josiah has family members working on HR! They allow him to get away with certain things, such as slacking off or, in extreme cases, murder.

It explains how he’s allowed to play games, steal others cubicles, and play pranks with any serious repercussions. It’s mentioned that HR doesn’t do much to help when it comes to misbehavior, so maybe I’m overthinking, but it’s still interesting to think about!

Additional Facts

Josiah is confirmed Vietnamese, and Damian S. is Polish!

The time is something the player needs to focus on, as it changes during every flash.

Josiah’s hair is messy under the cap.

We’ll learn more about Josiah’s family in the future!

#damian stasiuk #emery byran #overtime #overtime josiah #Josiah Nguyen #overtime demo #overtime damian

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