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#Yet another sketch I got carried away with ~
notes28 · 2 years
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karmanotlocated · 1 year
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Sketch time of Collier with the trans flag. I’m so proud of how far my boy has come
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chochuuya · 5 months
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his muse.
fashion designer mitsuya x reader
disclaimers: slight angst, tension, lots of back and forth.. possessive mitsuya yup yup |・ω・)
word count: 685
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“why?” mitsuya asks, not looking up from his sewing machine. “you’re my model. i’m not fighting for your time with another man (y/n).”
he’s always had an obsession with beautiful things. you’re no exception, so you can’t leave him.
all of his designs are catered to you. when he sees you smile, or hears you laugh, he’s already sketching another. he shuts the machine off, looking at you.
“do you not like the clothes i make anymore?” he asks, brows furrowing. because why else would you leave?
you chew your bottom lip as you fidget on your hands. it’s always nerve wracking to talk to mitsuya when he’s tense.
“it’s nothing like that, takashi. trust me, your designs are par to none! it’s just that.. i want to dress more and for others too? i am still your model, yes but i’m just signing up for more houses.”
he frowns.
“my designs are for you and you alone. we established this (y/n).”
you know mitsuya is stubborn, and once he gets an idea into his head, it doesn’t budge easily. he takes his designs seriously and doesn’t like to see his models modelling for other designers. the thought of you modelling for anyone else makes him feel jealous and angry, and he struggles to mask it.
you shake your head in protest.
“takashi. of course you had and have support me enough up to this point, but i just thought i could get more experience if i get myself out there more you know?” you reasoned.
“you don’t need to get more experience, you’re perfect!” he exclaims with eyes pleading.
“my designs are made with you in mind (y/n), and they look best on you! the other designers won’t be able to replicate my work. they’ll probably mess it all up.” mitsuya continues, “you could ruin your reputation modelling for someone else, no one would want your image on their projects anymore!”
he stops, breathless for a few seconds.
“you’re my muse..” he says quietly. “you’re all i’ve got, don’t you see that?”
you sighed in defeat.
“how am i supposed to grow as a model when i’m not getting out of my comfort zone, takashi? i admire you and your talented quality crafts but please, try to understand me!”
he glares at you, anger in his eyes.
“i don’t want you to grow, (y/n)!" he shouts.
“i want you to be mine and only mine. if you can't understand that then- then-" he stops himself before he gets too carried away.
“i understand that you have your own goals and aspirations but i’d rather you keep me in mind too.”
he steps back, breathing rapidly.
“i’m sorry, i- i shouldn’t have yelled.” he pauses, trying to get ahold of his emotions.
“you have other models too, mitsuya..”
“but i want you to be my main model.” he says, a hint of pleading in his voice.
“you’re my best, and i can help you far better than anyone else ever could. you’re my muse and inspiration. i just- i don’t want that to change.” he added.
you thought of what he said so, there was silence for a mere moment before you break the ice.
“there’s something else you’re not telling me. i know you.” you said with your arms crossed.
he narrows his eyes at you, not liking being accused of hiding something.
“and what do you think that is?” mitsuya asks icily. he wants to hear what you think it is, but won’t admit it just yet.
“i don’t know. you tell me.”
mitsuya is silent for a moment, debating over whether or not to let you in on his secret. his eyes scan your face, trying to gauge your trustworthiness. you’d never betrayed his trust before, so why not now?
finally, he speaks, his voice softer.
“i didn’t want to tell you because i knew you’d be upset. but... i’m in love with you (y/n)." mitsuya says quietly, looking at you.
“i’ve been in love with you for years.”
...
maybe hakkai and yuzuha should come by another day.
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please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!
ngl that one panel where he fixes takemichi's suit is just *nosebleeds* (_ _*) anyway, i hope you like this one! reblogs & likes are vv appreciated ♡
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issamultistan · 1 year
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fuck the attitude. | park sunghoon
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paring: highschool!sunghoon x fem!reader
wc: 2,905 (two thousand, nine hundred, five)
warnings: nsfw content, cursing, mentions of alcohol/drugs and the use of them, not proofread
contents: dom!sunghoon, brat-ish!reader, partygirl!reader, (at first) shy!sunghoon, mean!sunghoon, sunghoon has four fwbs, mentions of hyung line and txt's yeonjun, dirty talk, degradation, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, creampie, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, nipple play, spanking/slapping, fucking in a strangers bed???, use of “sweetheart” , “slut”
notes : INSP BY THIS??? CAPTION??? HELLO D-D SUNGHOON WAS TO HOT PASSING AWAY I NEED HIM OHMYGOD. this was supposed to be a horny thought but i got carried away... LMAOOO
also the way this a year old 😭😭 sorry i disappeared on y’all fr … I ALSO FORGOT TO ADD EVERYONE IS LEGAL 18 OR OVER 18 !!
“what?” sunghoon questions when you abruptly disturbed his concentration.
“c’mon it'll be fun, hoon!” you smile at the male. sunghoon grimaced when he heard the endearment, were the the two of you that close?
well, no.
it all started back in the beginning of senior year, only a few months ago, where you first met sunghoon in your sketching class. he was very quiet at first, too quiet for your tastes. i mean, you were the school renowned party girl. you could be seen at any party that your high school held, no matter if you knew the hosts or not. on the other hand, sunghoon was very different from you. he kept to himself, only having a few close friends, yet still was known as the “pretty prince on ice.” after all, he was amazing at figure skating. your personalities were so different; at least at first.
when you asked sunghoon to attend a party with you, sunghoon nearly wanted to run out of the classroom and never talk to you again. why would you want sunghoon to tag along some stupid party with a bunch of horny and drunk adults?
“okay, no. i am not going to a stranger’s party.” sunghoon drops his sketching pencil to look straight at you. “i don’t wanna go.” he finalizes.
you groan quietly, “why can’t you have some fun? i’m sure heeseung, jay, and jake are gonna be there too.” you smile at sunghoon when you mention his friends. he knew you were going to drag them in soon enough.
“i told you, y/n. no. besides, i have practice.” park sunghoon was lying straight out of his mouth. he only had practices sunday through thursday, but of course, you didn't know that. closing up your notebook you took a good look at the boy across from you.
“no wonder you’re a virgin.” you say, barely above a whisper.
“excuse you?”
a slight laugh exits your mouth, “i mean, if you never go to parties, you surely have never dicked a girl down before. if you have, you’re probably terrible at it and you probably haven't even drank or done drugs.” you chew on your bottom lip as you see sunghoon’s face contort from disgust to anger.
park sunghoon was mad. like really mad.
before the boy could say anything, the school bell rang throughout the campus building, cutting off any words that could've left sunghoon’s mouth.
when you packed up your stuff, you lean against your shared table, “i saw how you got mad, if you wanna prove me wrong, pull up to daniel choi’s house. i wanna see you there, hoonie.”
a slight smirk appears on your face to the point sunghoon wanted to smack it off. the fake sweetness that laced your words got him even more annoyed too. oh, he’s going to prove you wrong.
he’s sure of it.
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after the small conversation you had with sunghoon, you wondered why he got so mad. like of course he would since you insulted his sex status, but what made him nearly yell at you? it surely couldn't have just been he was a virgin, right? or the fact he didn't drink or do drugs? it was genuinely the first time you saw sunghoon experience another emotion other than just neutral. even if it piqued your interests, you simply swatted it off your mind.
“hey, y/n!” a voice calls out from you down the hall. you look back and you see jake sim, a friend of yours and sunghoon.
“oh hi, jake! what's up?” jake rarely ever talks to you, even if the both of you had the same calculus class last period.
“hoon’s mad at you.” a slight downturned smile hooks his mouth as he says his words.
you rolls your eyes at him, “i wonder why.”
jake sighs, “he won't say what got him so mad, he just kinda said it was your fault.” the boy shrugs his shoulders as the two of you enter into class.
as the two of you sat down to whatever seat you wanted, you purse your lips, “all i said was he was a virgin because he never went to parties.”
the blond boy stares at you weirdly, as if you said something offensive. “you said what?”
“it’s not that big of a deal, he just can’t take a joke. like if i said that to you, you’d take it lightheartedly, right?” you look at jake expectantly.
“y/n, it doesn’t work like that… besides, what do you know about hoon?” jake scoffs at your previous words.
“let’s see, he’s quiet, ice skates really well... and that’s it. he’s really plain.” you laugh at your own words.
“yeah, and if you were closer to him you’d know he has like four girls on his dick right now.”
what.
“sunghoon? park sunghoon. mr. pretty prince on ice? no way.” your mouth twisted a bit at jake’s sentence. was he really being serious?
“you didn't know? he has a lot of friends with benefits type relationships. all of the girls he’s fucked always say he’s like a sex god.” jake whispers as he sees more students enter into the once empty classroom. “if you don’t change your attitude, he's probably gonna fuck it outta you.” jake jokes before the class bell rang, signaling classes were slowly going to go into session.
for the rest of class, you couldn’t think of a single thought about calc. all you could think was sunghoon.
four friends with benefits? fucked many girls? a sex god? he’d fuck your attitude out of you? what other secrets did sunghoon hid from you? well, you didn't have to take long because just in a few hours, you’ll see.
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the clock strikes 21:35 (9:35 pm), meaning daniel’s party would start soon. daniel, or previously known as yeonjun, was an alumni of the current high school you were attending. you first met him in year 9 (freshman) year when he was in year 12 (senior). he quickly became the older-brother-type friend that you would become closer to as the years pass. even though daniel was committed to his college courses, he still had that high school wild party side in him. so every once in awhile, he’d host parties at his (insanely large) house.
as you take a look at the time, you start to get ready, texting your friends now and then, deciding what to wear. once you finished getting ready, you take a glance at the clock again. 22:18 (10:18pm). perfect.
you finish yourself up and met your friends outside as all of you drove to daniel’s house. even if you were already having fun with your friends, a particular someone stayed in your head. butterflies were swarming your stomach as you kept on thinking of jake’s words, “if you don't change your attitude, he’s probably gonna fuck it outta you.”
what were you thinking? it’s not like sunghoon was going to fuck you... unless?
the smell was just putrid. sex, alcohol, drugs, sex, alcohol, did you say sex yet? it was only half an hour into the party and yet you can see multiple people passed out on daniel's living room couch, a bunch of horny teenagers trying to suck their faces off, a group trying cocaine for the first time, park sunghoon looking so fucking hot, and— park sunghoon? didn’t he have practice?
too dumbfounded by the way sunghoon looked, daniel spotted you. “y/n!” you nearly knocked daniel down by jumping into his arms and hugging daniel. “you’ve grown so much! how’s been senior year?” he asks, trying to stabilize himself from nearly falling back first.
“it’s been great, danny.” the nickname brings a wave to nostalgia as he gives you a red solo cup of some random alcohol you could care less about.
time passes and you surprisingly haven’t drunken much nor did any lines of coke, smoked a blunt, touched molly— you get it. instead, you kept an eye out on sunghoon. as said he has specifically four girls he has his hands constantly. what a player. you internally roll your eyes at the man only a few feet away from you in the kitchen. sure, he was attractive. it’s not like he could pound you until your brain is fucked out in the best way, making sure his cock is brushing so deep in your pussy— what the fuck.
daniel thankfully interrupts your stupid thoughts by pushing you another cup of alcohol, “drink?”
you smile at his completely drunken state, “thanks, danny.”
“i think that should be enough for tonight, sweetheart.” the deep voice made you flinch, making your back hit the person’s chest. it's none other than park sunghoon, in the flesh, looking obnoxiously hot.
“who are you to decide how much i drink?” you quirk an eyebrow at the taller boy, taking a liking to the nickname.
“i just think that some people shouldn’t drink too much.” sunghoon says nonchalantly.
before you can properly retort back something witty, daniel stands on the kitchen counter. “i’m just gonna say this once because i’m probaby gonna be wasted soon but let’s do a cheers because i say so!” daniel was wacked out of his mind but, it was a funny kind of wacky. you raise your cup along with everyone else in the room and cheers with daniel. you take a glace back at sunghoon and instantly regretted it.
as he rose his cup, he bites his lower lip attractively, making his dimples become prominent to the eye. he then downs his drink in one fast gulp, sighing from the alcoholic drink afterwards. “you’re staring too hard, sweetheart.”
“i’m not.” this time you were the one lying out of your mouth. “why would you care? didn’t you have practice to attend? or your little girlies?”
a scoff comes from sunghoon, “sorry i lied, sweetheart. i don’t need them either, i have better things to do.” he presses a hand against the counter next to you, practically caging you in his body.
“like me?” you joke at first.
“yeah, like you.” a smirk appears on his face as he looks down at you. sunghoon knew too well what he was doing. the eye contact was unbearable, your breathing became ragged, and your drink moving around in your cup due to how shaky your hands have gotten. you bit your lip to silence yourself of saying anything more embarrassing.
“where’s that little y/n that teased me for being a virgin, huh? because all i see is a little slut just begging for my cock in her.” sunghoon playfully moans in your ear as he says the word “begging”.
gluping down the nervousness you try to think of something to say, “i’m not begging unless... you... i don't know... fuck the attitude outta me.” you mock sunghoon by moaning “fuck” and restating the words jake told you earlier.
“oh, i will.”
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sunghoon immediately pulls you to a random room upstairs in daniel’s house and pushes you towards the bed, making you bounce lightly on the mattress.
“i’m gonna fucking ruin you.” and that’s what sunghoon did. stripping you from your jeans and panties, he latches his lips over your clit, sucking harshly at the bud. your hands find his black roots, pulling him closer to your cunt.
“so fucking needy, aren’t you? you’re so cock hungry for me, huh? haven’t even done anything but sucking on your stupid clit.” sunghoon mutters against your labia. his voice vibrates against you in the best way possible.
“fuck— yes i am— only for you!” you weakly murmur, unable to create full sentences with the amount of pleasure sunghoon provided. his strong arms wraps around your thighs, pushing you down to the mattress. your legs also find their way around his head, making his tongue fully insert itself into your hot cunt. lapping at your juices, in just a few minutes, sunghoon’s face became all messy. your voice raises in pitch as you sputter out, “coming— sunghoon!”
even if your high came crashing down, sunghoon smirks against your cunt, “yeah that’s right, come for me, say my name when you come.” a smack against your ass rippled through your veins as sunghoon kept on devouring you whole. with that, sunghoon bores his eyes into your as he flattened his tongue right on your cunt. you couldn’t look away. it was too much, you were so close coming undone over sunghoon’s tongue again.
“no— sunghoon— too much— want your cock.” your voice trembled but you tried everything you could to at least sound coherent enough.
“hmm? too much? don’t you mean too good? you’re gonna take everything i give you, got that?”
you felt like you were on cloud nine. even if sunghoon was just eating you out, he looks good doing it. a little too good. a smug smile as he eats you out, his nose and mouth all up in your pussy, and his strong arms hooking under you to make sure you don’t move. everything was so attractive.
with one last flick of his tongue, you came for the second time that night. you weren’t the one who would have multiple orgasms but, you might just have to try it because of sunghoon.
in such a short amount of time, you came twice. all from sunghoon eating you out. jake wasn’t joking around. sunghoon is like a sex god.
your thighs immediately clamp up after sunghoon removes himself from your pussy. he raised up to take off the layers he had on him but he laughs at you once he sees you trying to regain breaths, “awhh, is my tongue too much for you sweetheart? i didn’t even finger you. this stupid little cunt just loves coming, huh?”
one of his hands fiddle with his jeans, taking them off, while the other slides to your slick cunt and slaps it a few times. each time more and more of his saliva and your cum splats on his hands, causing him to get impossibly harder.
“i’m gonna fuck you, gonna fuck you so hard you’re crying for me to fill you up.” sunghoon grunts as he presses his tip on your opening, gaining the wetness on his cock. you simply moan back, you wanted his cock. you wanted to go dumb on his cock. that was all you needed.
once his cock fully slides in you, he takes no chance and starts roughly thrusting into you. it didn’t take that long for you to start moaning his name again. the bed was rocking to his motions, your hands on his chest trying to have some balance while his hands are secure on your thighs; pushing them along to his pace.
“ngh— sunghoon, fuck! more please, please sunghoon i need more—!” you mindlessly babble. you were experiencing so much pleasure, you didn’t even know you wanted more. your brain and your heart were jumbled up together.
“yeah? more? you want more you needy slut? alright, i’ll give you more.” hoon starts peeling off your top and bra, fighting the urge to just rip them off. he then grabs your sensitive nipples and twists them. the shocking pleasure has you nearly screaming for sunghoon. there’s so much happening, you couldn’t care if anyone could hear you outside.
“does it feel good, y/nnn?” slurring his words near the of you name. “look at you shutting your eyes, you love this!” sunghoon laughs as he kept on having a stable pace. his cock is so loose in you and the tip is practically abusing your cervix over and over.
sighing, moaning, groaning, grunting, whimpering was the only thing left in the room. along with sunghoon’s cock in you, of course. you were at the brink of that knot completely snapping in your stomach. it was so close; it was right there. tears even start dripping down to your cheeks, not in sadness or pain. but in delight.
the waves of pleasure were crashing down soon. they were waves crashing slowly. you needed those waves where they’d crash down fast. third orgasm was even better than the first.
“sweetheart, you’re crying? crying on my cock? fuck— you’re desperate to come.” sunghoon grunts as another bead of sweat starts dripping along his hairline. he was on the edge too, he needed it as much as you. a barely heard “mhmm!” escaped your lips as a response.
“god— sunghoon! use me— wanna have your cum in me— please!” you creak out. sunghoon laughs at your poor attempt of talking.
the warm, nearly silky feeling of my white strings of his cum was all in your pussy. snug, full, and filled. sunghoon’s arms gives up and falls right besides you.
“don’t ever say i’m a virgin again.” sunghoon groans as he takes his thrown off t-shirt to clean off yours and his cum off of you and him.
“i was just joking! hoon— fuck. you are a sex god.” you can’t help but laugh a bit.
“sex god??? who told you that.”
“… jake.” you reply.
“whatever, at least i got to prove it to you that i’m not a virgin.” hoon rolls his eyes at you.
“yeah but, i sure don’t think we can still be friends after this.” you sigh, looking at the ceiling above you.
“who said we were?”
“what?”
“who said we were just friends?”
who knew sunghoon wanted to fuck from the start?
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kpop masterlist !
© issamultistan | tumblr
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maopll · 6 months
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Could I request something like this https://www.tumblr.com/maopll/712602219674058752/hello-hello-may-i-request-zhongli-kaeya-ayato?source=share
but with Kaveh, Itto, Childe, and Thoma?
My muse | genshin edition !
#pt.1 here || pt.2 !
⌗:, where you draw your lover in a sketchbook only for him to soon find out the peculiar way you show your love and adoration for him ♡
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⌗:, a/n: what if I draw them in jojo poses ?...
⌗:, warning: there are gingers and blondes and bullchucker. there's mention of blood in childe's part.
⌗:, pairings: kaveh, itto, childe & thoma w/ gn!reader
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KAVEH —
It was a warm Sunday evening. The afternoon glow of the sun illuminated the room. You and your lover, Kaveh, are basking in the quiet comfort of eachother. On the sofa, you sat crossing your feet and sketching countless pictures of what or of who. Your lover sat on the other side, making minute and very careful details of splendid architectural designs. You noticed the way his face would scrunch up when he would make those little designs on the railing or even on the roof. The way he would do a soft 'yes!' When he got something right on his first try. You recorded down every single detail on the small sketchbook of yours. When you would feel his gaze upon you, you would be quick while closing the book lest he sees what you made.
However, on his birthday you decided to gift him the sketchbook. He was dumbfounded and asked why you would give him something you were using. Until he flipped the pages and marvelled at the beautiful drawings you made of him. for him. It was simple yet so meaningful to him. His eyes filled with tears with how pure and sweet your love for him was. You were his everything, a beacon of light in his world.
ITTO —
Having you as his s/o was like winning the lottery. There wasn't a single moment that he didn't enjoy when he was with you. Whenever he would be playing onikabuto fights with the kids in hanamizaka, you would shelter yourself under a tree and sketch away the little doodle of your lover. Capturing each and every little detail of his face. The way he would scrunch up his nose when he would be thinking of his next move or the utter look of shock on his face when he would lose for the nth time...
Nevertheless, you find this hobby to be quite comforting. The sun was already starting to set, and the kids had returned home. Your lover hadn't won a single round, but he doesn't care much about it. As soon as they were gone, he went up to you screaming, "Hey babe!" only to find that you have fallen asleep. It's alright he's strong enough to carry his lover on his back, but he was in for a little surprise. When he picked you up in his arms, he saw the sketches, doodles of his and his...abs? although he has minimum knowledge about art and anatomy, he was still surprised seeing someone looking very similar to him and his name on YOUR notebooks. Ofcourse your one and only oni should be the one to grace the pages of your sketchbook! and also to grace your soft lips!
CHILDE —
Bloodshed, Bloodlust, Bloodthirst. That's all he knew all his life. He barely found respite, but with your coming into his life, things started to get a lot better, and he found happiness with you.
Your lover, childe, has gone out once again to take care of some "business." Apparently, he has loads of things to take care of, so today was another one of those sleepless and quite cold nights in Snezhnaya where you yearn for your lovers warmth but unfortunately he cannot be there. The candle was lit by your bedside table. You used the faint glow it provided to draw on your sketchbook. After all, you needed something to help you sleep, and this was the best thing you could do now. It was 3 p.m. now. Childe entered through the front door into your shared home. He tiptoed softly and carefully to not wake you up since it was an odd time to be awake. He stepped foot into your room and smiled, seeing you fast asleep. It was quite cold, and your blanket wasn't on top of you. While pulling the covers over you, he saw him drawn on your sketchbook. He looked at the drawings and he felt butterflies in his stomach. A faint shade of pink was dusting his face and a small smile graced his lips. "ajax?...you're home?" you spoke in a drowsy tone. He smiled and said "I'm home" while removing the sketchbook from you and setting it aside. Although the room was quite dark, you swear you saw a faint glimmer in his eyes...
THOMA —
He runs back and forth around the house from morning to evening. As expected, he grows tired by the end of the day, even if he tries napping during his breaks. You, however, seize this opportunity to admire his angelic features more closely since he is static in one place. At least for some time...
The Kamisato Estate was obviously busy with him conducting some classes about housework and dealing with the housework of the estate. Finally it was four o'clock in the afternoon and he had finally got his much needed rest. While he dozed off on your lap, taking in the comfortable warmth, you were busy sketching away on your sketchbook. His eyes, his sleepy face, his ruffled hair, his parted lips. Not a single detail would you miss. When his rest was finally over, he got up, but you had fallen asleep. It's understandable since you also work around the house with him a lot. When he tried getting up, the book fell from your hand. Whilst trying to pick up the book, he saw his sketches on your book. He was amazed and embarrassed since he was drawn so intricately on such a small piece of paper. A soft hue of pink bloomed across his face. He turned his body towards you and gently caressed your face. He kissed your temple and whispered "sleep well dear.."
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anamelessfool · 1 month
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May I please have a grumpy wee baby Copia sketch? 🥺 (you had to know this was coming—it’s your own fault ♡)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ghuleh-recs/@ghuleh-draws /StuffIkindalike
Thank you for supporting me and my grumpy three-year old Copia:
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You're an amazing person, an incredible member of the community and a wonderful artist in your own right. You also got me making animation keyframes after 15 years of avoiding them hehe
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Copia had joined him this morning in the garden. It was the coldest morning yet, and the little boy was bundled up in a hand-me-down jacket that was too large for him. His arms stuck out as they rested over the navy-blue puff of his body. His mousey little eyes stared out from under a pink knitted hat borrowed from a crafty Sister. He marched quietly around the bare garden beds, his movement slowed from the bulk of his garments like a diver on the sea floor. Primo chuckled as he tossed another log on the block. The next log split as beautifully as the previous ones. Copia wandered by and bent over the piece that had fallen into the frozen grass. “That may be too heavy— take it easy, Copia.” But the little boy did not relent, making a big show of carrying the piece of wood with his arms wrapped around it for dear life. He staggered over to the woodpile and dropped it on the ground a foot away. “Nice work!” Primo laughed, then swung the axe into the block, trapping the blade for next time. He bent down on one knee, his arms outstretched. “Come here, you!”
If you see this post, please go thank Ghuleh-Recs because without her support I would not be making art as much as I do.
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naavispider · 1 year
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Hey, what do you think life would be like for Spider and others in modern au? I mean the universe on Earth, nowadays. (For example - in my hc Jake is in a wheelchair, Spider has cystic fibrosis/severe asthma, Kiri has epilepsy and Grace is in a coma as a reference to the original story)
Spider Socorro Modern AU headcanons
Adding mine to the pile because I'm 😍 hooked 😍 Some of these are definitely influenced and adopted from other posts I've seen, especially @hyperfixatedfandomer (I searched but I couldn't find the other post that I really loved so I'm sorry whoever you are, know that you inspired me 🙌🏻) Again if you haven't, you need to read So close, yet a million worlds apart 🥰
has bounced from foster home to foster home growing up
Norm is his social worker who he has a good relationship with, despite Norm being pretty unable to find anyone to adopt him
Yes, Jake and Neytiri are one of the families who ended up fostering Spider as a teenager
He has asthma, which can occasionally flare up so he always carries his inhaler
His style is lots of oversized baggy clothes, a hoodie here or there but mostly bold t shirts, very grunge, very tumblr boy. His look reflects the care and attention he's gotten as a kid, which is obviously not a lot
Deffs has his ears pierced but hasn't braved his first tattoo yet
Plays guitar and can sing, but hates to do it in front of people
He's pretty musically talented all around, he once picked up piano pretty well
Very artistic, he definitely has a sketch book hidden somewhere and the sketchbook definitely includes Kiri's portrait more than once. The kind of kid that always has graphite on his fingertips
Skateboarder - so he can roll away from his problems
Alexa play 'They See Me Rollin'
Plaits his hair in cool styles, loves incense, would be into Yoga however he's never had the space or the vulnerability to try it in any of his foster homes.
Very popular at the children's home, lots of the younger kids look up to him and he has some cool friends his own age from there as well
Bright in school, though he can be cheeky so ends up in a few detentions, definitely has ADHD as well (high functioning)
Loves peanut butter! I feel it in my heart that it's his favourite food
relationship with the Sullys
when Norm called Jake and Neytiri and asked if they were willing to foster a kid for a few weeks, Lo'ak was Not Impressed
Tuk was delighted and Kiri and Neteyam were skeptical
The kid really needed fostering though due to a safeguarding concern (oh no Papa Miles found out where the children's home is but isn't allowed to see him so the only other option was to send Spider away across the country to another children's home)
As soon as Spider walked in the door Lo'ak knew they were gonna be thick as thieves, all trepidation vanished
Neytiri gives a warm welcome, but allows Jake and the kids to show Spider around. She definitely never tries to mother him, and Spider can feel that, it doesn't bother him (most of the time)
Jake is definitely in a wheelchair, and when he sees Spider's skateboard tucked under his arm on the doorstep he knows there's gonna be some wheel jokes
Spider is of course always respectful but the kid has banter, and Kiri and Lo'ak are all over it
Jake finds out his fave food is peanut butter and makes peanut butter chicken one night. The fam have never tried it before but it's an instant hit
Lo'ak and Spider sneak out together all the time, hanging around street corners and parking lots at night, and sometimes Kiri comes too
Spider got Lo'ak into skateboarding, Lo'ak eventually ditches his bike
Tuk is enamoured by Spider's hair, she thinks it's really pretty. Spider is great with her, because he has so much experience with younger kids in the children's home
Spider loved Kiri no doubt, but he's ace af so never thinks of her in that way. Kiri loves him back easily and they just know their souls align.
Someone at school once started taking the piss out of how friendly Kiri and Spider were, esp that they were foster siblings, and Lo'ak punched the guy square in the jaw, causing a big fight in the hallway and Lo'ak to get suspended for a day
Spider looks up to Neteyam, a little bit wary of him at first when he moved in, but doesn't see much of him since he's older and keeps himself to himself a lot
Neteyam will be going off to college soon (he's like 17 in this AU purely for the older bro vibes) and Spider can see that he wants that for himself as well, eventually
one time Neteyam catches Lo'ak and Spider sneaking in at like 3am from the skatepark and says that as long as they don't do it again he won't snitch on them
Lo'ak and Spider invite him on the next one
Neteyam notices a car parked on the street outside their house over a few days that seems kinda sus, and he mentions it to Jake, who tells Norm, who tells social services, because what do you know, it couldn't possibly be the dangerous Papa Miles stalking his son could it?? (someone please write a fic)
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leoniestarlee · 3 months
Text
Illyrian Assassin (7)
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Pairing: Azriel x OC
Word Count: 1.9k
Warning: past trauma, slow burn
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)
--
A few days later, a soft tune hummed from my mouth as I hanged up one of Willa's drawings on the wall in my new room at the House of Wind. Rhys wasn't lying when he'd told me to buy whatever I wished. Personally, I hadn't actually picked anything with my words, but I'd brought Amren with me while I'd looked at furniture and it didn't take me long to realize this morning that any furniture I looked at for too long, arrived here.
Willa was quieter than usual since her small outburst, only speaking to me needed and that carved a part out of my heart. She'd apologised, wrote at least five letters but she was still quiet and reserved to herself. I could only hope that by the time Rhysand got back here today, after spending the day with Willa, he'd have news on if she'd spoke to him or not.
I folded my clothes, putting them into the chest of drawers that sit under the window facing the city below. Beside the chest of drawers sat an elegant velvet purple armchair that I'd already claimed as my reading chair. In the center of the room was a bed that could fit three Illyrians, including their wings, and near that was a door, leading to a bathing room I'd already told the girls they can use.
Willa and Daisy had their own rooms on either side of me, but Willa asked for another bed in case Daisy ever wanted to sleep in her room, and of course, I'd agreed straight away. The last thing I wanted was for her to be more upset or angry with me.
My bedroom door opened and I looked around the door of my wardrobe as boots sounded against the marble to reveal Azriel walking into my room, his eyes focused on me while he carried two boxes. I offered him a small smile, turning back to the dress I was previous hanging up.
"How do you like your new room?" Azriel asked, the sound of boxes being placed on the floor behind me echoing against his voice.
I quietly closed the wardrobe, turning around to see him pulling my belongings out of the boxes. "Much bigger than my last one," I mused with a smile as I leaned back on the heels of my feet. "But the view is amazing."
He chuckled, placing a few of my books on my bed. "I thought you would like the view."
"Did you pick this room for me?"
A smirk with a shrug of his shoulders. "Rhys asked me if you'd want a view of the city or of the back of the mountain. I'd suggested this room because of the number of times I'd stop past your old apartment to find you staring out your window."
"Do you always observe everything?" I joked, picking up my books from the bed and walking over to the empty bookcase near my reading chair.
He raised a brow at me as I looked over my shoulder at him. "Spymaster, remember?"
"Samrtass, remember?" I counted and he chuckled, shaking his head as he started to unpack the next box and I gently put away my books.
"Have the girl's rooms been set up yet?" His footsteps sounded toward me, and I kept my back to him as I rearranged the books to my standards.
"I spent the morning focusing on their rooms before mine." He passed a few more books to me over my shoulder and I took them. "I'll leave the decorating to them, since they probably have their own ideas."
"I've got a feeling they'll ask Rhys to paint their rooms," he said, walking away from me as I laughed. "It'll be good to have your girls here though. Cassian and I have needed—What's this?"
I turned around on my knees at the drop in his tone as he held up my old sketch book from many, many years ago. My jaw slackened as I remembered what I drew in there and he, out of everyone, was now holding it.
"Oh, that's nothing," I lied, a fake smile on my lips as I stood and pushed away the nerves in my body. "Just something from when we were younger."
"Is this the same book you were constantly drawing in when we were young and you threatened to break our bones if we looked in it?" he asked, his brows rising as a smirk tugged at his lips.
"What? No, of course not," I quickly said, walking toward him and hiding my surprise that he'd remembered. "That book is just filled with boring things."
His smirk grew as he held the book up and out of my reach as I stopped before him. "You're lying, angel. I always know when you're lying."
Butterflies erupted from the nickname he used to call me when we were younger, but nervous stabbed through those butterflies as he looked back to the sketchbook above my head.
"I'm not lying," I lied through my teeth. "I'll just put it away if you will give it to me, please."
"Hmm," he drawled, his scarred fingers brushing down the spine of the book softly. "I've always been curious about your drawings."
My face slacked. "Don't you dare."
"You'll forgive me." And then he turned, running straight out my door.
"Azriel!" I shrieked, running out the door behind him. My dress nearly tripped me up, but I picked up the bottom of the pastel purple skirts and rushed up the stairs. He was much further ahead than me, but I didn't give up.
The worry of him seeing inside of that book is what gave me to adrenaline to continue chasing him. I'd made it up the stairs with him out of my vision. My heart dropped as I rounded the corner into the sitting room to see his lips parted as his eyes scanned the page, his face unreadable.
"Stop!" I yelled, launching forward and taking us both down on the couch. "Don't look at that!"
But it was too late. My eyes landed on the page he was staring at as I grabbed his wrist, pinning it to the couch beneath us. I couldn't look at him—couldn't meet his gaze as my eyes stared at the pencilled sketch of his face on the left page, every detail shown by shading and on the right page, his hands sketched with every ridge and line of his scars perfected.
"Aurora," he softly said, his other hand resting on my hip.
It was then I realized I was straddling him, my legs on either side of his muscled thighs as one of my hands pinned his arm down next to his head with the book in his hand and my other arm heled me up to stop my body from landing against his.
"Sorry," I mumbled, releasing the grip on his wrist and starting to get off him, but his grip tightened on my hip, keeping me firmly in place. "I, um—Shit."
I avoided his eyes as I looked away, hiding the faint redness I knew was on my cheeks as he closed the book with one hand, leaving it beside his head. His hand reached up; his scars rough against my chin as he moved my head to look down at him. His hazel eyes were bright with a small smile on his lips and I only blushed harder, ignoring the tug in my stomach as I felt heat course through my body from our position.
"You drew me," he breathed, his eyes trialled over my face, flicking down to my lips for a split second before looking back into my eyes. "That's why you never allowed us to look in it."
"I was young, and a female stuck in an Illyrian camp," I countered, pushing his hand away from my face. "I drew many things," I added, swatting his hand away from my hip before moving off him.
He sat up on the couch, holding the sketchbook out to me as I stood in front of him. "You did," he mused, and I reached my arm out to grab the book, but he pulled it back out of my reach. "Yet, you only drew me. Not Cassian. Not Rhys. Me."
"And?" I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I spent most of my time with you, it was just easier to draw you."
"It would've been easier for you to draw Cassian's wings than my scars, angel." He gave me a pointed look.
"You're a pain in my ass," I mumbled, whirling around and heading back to my room.
His footsteps followed after me, but I didn't look back at him as he said, "That I can be, but why did you draw me." Silence as I descended down the stairs. "I know you didn't draw only me because it was 'easier'. Why did you draw me?" he pushed.
"I was young and bored," I argued, reaching my floor. "Stop thinking into it so much."
"Can you blame me? You always drew in this book whenever you could." His hand gripped my elbow, stopping me to face him. "Do you know how many times Cassian, Rhys, and I tried to get this book." He held it up and my eyes stared at it, instead of him. "For a whole three years, we tried to find it when you didn't have it, but Cauldron you had it hidden somewhere good that even my shadows couldn't figure it out."
"Why did you three care so much?" I looked away from the book to him as he stood up straighter.
A shadow flickered across his eyes. "Because when you sat behind that bakery and drew in this book, it was the happiest we every saw you," his voice came out soft like a pillow cushioning my heart. "We wanted to know what made you happy so we could help you. You tried to hide it, the sadness, but we always saw through you and then when your eyes were focused on this book, you were truly happy."
"I—" My words couldn't form in my mind as I stared at him, blinking away the realisation that years ago I wasn't as skilled at hiding my feelings as I am now.
This whole time, after all these years, the three of them knew. They could see I was unhappy when I thought I'd master the fake happiness to keep them happy. But all this time, they knew I was lying, and they wanted to make me happy.
"Now you know," I said above a whisper.
His brows furrowed. "What do I know?"
"That the only source of my happiness back then was yo—"
"Why are you two standing in the hallway?" Cassian asked from behind Azriel.
I clammed my mouth shut, looking away from Az as he stepped to the side to reveal me to Cassian who watched us with raised brows.
"We were just chatting," I said sweetly, a small smile on my face.
Cassian's eyes were sceptical as he looked at me and then to Azriel, where his eyes widened. "Is that the sketchbook?"
"You've got to be kidding me," I whispered in annoyance, low enough that neither of them could hear me.
"No," Azriel lied, not a sign of the truth on his sculptured face. "It's a new sketchbook for Willa."
"You'll be lucky if Rhys didn't buy her a hundred already," Cassian laughed, his wings tucking in tight behind his body. "You two hungry? Mor's made afternoon tea at the townhouse and sent me up here to fetch you both."
"You know I can never say no to food," I laughed, walking toward him with a small skip in my step. "I'll fly with you."
Because I don't trust myself in Azriel's arms. I don't trust myself to not say something that'll change everything in our friendship, I don't add.
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lnfours · 1 year
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Could you possibly do one where Tom and the reader who is an actress who plays a character in Spider-Man NWH are dating and one day for some mysterious reason Tom gets transported into the MCU universe and in the body of his character Peter Parker. Chaos ensues when his co stars are acting like their characters and he tries to convince them that he is not Peter Parker. He even tries to tell y/n that in his world him and her are together. The reader, MJ, and Nef agree to help him get back to his reality
oooh okay! i enjoy a lil multiverse action!
this got so long bc i got carried away but i love this idea so it's totally fine
come send me tom blurbs!
tom woke up to the sun shining in from the window. he rubbed his eyes and sat up in the bed, pushing the covers off as his vision cleared. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around the room. he was in peter parker's bed, in his clothes, and in his room.
surely someone would've said something to him if he had fallen asleep on set, right?
there was a knock on the door, it opening slightly as marissa aunt may, peeked her head in through the crack, "ned and y/c/n are here, better get a move on. you don't want to keep them waiting."
he let out a sigh of relief. y/n and jacob are here. surely they'd know something about what's going on. what if they're in the same predicament as him?
she gave him a smile as she closed the door. he looked around some more, finding the midtown crewneck and khakis that were thrown around the room. he quickly changed, not really understanding anything about where he was or why he was suddenly peter parker, the boy he portrayed in marvel movies.
surely the multiverse wasn't real, is it?
he quickly was out the door, eager to meet his friends outside. he ran up to y/n y/c/n and gave her a hug. she was caught off guard, looking at jacob ned confused.
"hey, pete."
wait... did she just call him pete?
he pulled back surprised, "huh?"
she looked at him, eyebrows furrowed, "i said 'hey, pete'. are you alright?"
"why are you talking in a british accent?"
tom noticed she was in her wardrobe for the movie, which was a way too big MIT t-shirt that once belonged to her character's father, tony stark, a pair of jeans with black converse to match peter's. why was she wearing her wardrobe? why was everyone acting like he was peter?
"you feeling alright, man?" he turned and looked at jacob ned who was also in his wardrobe. a midtown letter jacket, a pair of jeans and sneakers. what the fuck is going on?
tom stammered, "i- uh, no. everything isn't alright..."
"what's wrong?" y/c/n asked, eyes filled with concern.
holy shit. the multiverse is real. in real life. and he's living in it.
"i think something happened and i got transported here from another universe."
his girlfriend and best friend looked at him and snickered, "yeah, okay, good one."
"come on, we're gonna be late for school."
tom shook his head, following them down the sidewalk, "no i-i'm being serious guys!"
however, the two ignored them and made way to the school. tom walked in silence, figuring out a way to convince them that he was actually tom holland trapped in peter parker's universe.
his heart was racing, mind spinning.
he just wanted to be back in atlanta with y/n.
the three walked into the school, meeting with zendaya mj at her locker.
"hey guys," she smiled, "why's parker look so sketched out."
"something about being in a different universe. i don't think he got much sleep last night." y/c/n said quietly.
"no, i'm telling the truth! you guys have to believe me."
"oh god, not the british accent again." mj complained.
"would you guys just please listen to me!" tom pleaded.
the three of them looked at him skeptical. they all knew that there was a slight chance in the multiverse actually existing, but no one has ever been able to travel through it. yet alone in their sleep.
"you were just fine yesterday," ned shook his head, "i don't understand."
tom huffed and grabbed everyone by their arms before leading them to a quieter section of the school: the library.
"listen, i'm telling the truth."
"okay, prove it." mj crossed her arms.
well, shit. how is he supposed to do that?
"okay, fine," he huffed, "my name is tom holland and i'm the actor who plays peter parker, i'm not actually peter parker. in fact, all of you actually have actors who play you, you're just an onscreen version of us."
mj uncrossed her arms, "still not very convincing."
tom rolled his eyes, good to know zendaya is just as stubborn as mj is, "y/c/n, me and the actress who plays you are dating in my universe, not just in the movie. your actress' name is y/n y/l/n. zendaya is the actress who plays you, mj. ned, the guy who plays you, his name is jacob batalon. all of the actors play you guys, the characters, in the marvel movies."
everyone looked at him dumbfounded.
"but you and mj are..." y/c/n trailed off, "you and i are just best friends."
"i know, but in my universe, you and i are dating."
"like peter parker and y/c/n or you, tom holland and y/n?"
"me and y/n." tom nodded, finally they were starting to understand.
"okay, you have me convinced but i need more proof." mj said.
"how else can i get you to believe me?"
"i don't know, how are we supposed to believe you?" ned said. he had a point, all of this did seem far fetched.
wait, if tom is supposedly peter parker, he wouldn't have peter parker's DNA he would have his own. which means he wouldn't have the radioactive spider bite. which means...
he's not actually spider-man.
"okay, so since i'm tom holland and not peter parker, i don't have the radioactive spider bite. which means i can't do this." tom said, walking up to one of the walls and putting his hands on it. he acted like he was going to wall climb, but because he didn't have his, stickiness as he called it, he failed.
which was the plan. and made mj go wide eyed.
"he's telling the truth."
"okay, so..." ned said, "how do we get you back to your universe and get peter back to ours?"
"i think i know a guy." tom said, leading his group of friends out of the school and down the streets of new york city. thank god he had caught up on all the marvel knowledge and knew as much as he did or else he could've been stuck like this.
"what is she like, y/n?" y/c/n asked tom, ned and mj coming up with different solutions by themselves as tom led the way.
"she's a lot like you, actually," he smiled, "i mean, other than the fact that she looks just like you, she's smart like you, goal driven like you, and she has terrible jokes just like you."
she let out a laugh, rolling her eyes and hitting his arm at the joke he said. he laughed with her, eyes crinkling as he smiled.
"is that why you hugged me earlier?" she asked and tom nodded.
"i thought the same thing happened to her that happened to me. sorry if it was weird or anything."
"no, no it's okay," she smiled, brushing her hair back from the wind, "peter and i have hugged a bunch, it was just strange at how sudden and bone crushing it was."
he let out a laugh, "yeah, sorry about that, too."
"all good," her smile never faded, "sounds like you love her a lot."
"i do."
"good thing we're going to get you back to her."
tom sighed as he stood in front of the building, "i sure hope so."
"dude! this is the sanctum sanctorum!" ned exclaimed, running up to stand next to tom.
"yeah, i know him. so does peter."
"wait, does dr. strange have an actor guy too?"
tom nodded, "everyone does."
"that is sick!"
"even my dad?" y/c/n looked over at tom and it broke his heart to see the sadness in her eyes. god, how was he supposed to explain it to her.
"yeah," he swallowed, "in my universe, your dad's actor robert downey jr, isn't actually dead. just his character, tony stark, is."
she nodded, looking down at her feet, "good to know he's still alive somewhere."
"if it makes you feel any better, y/n and robert are really close. almost father and daughter like, just like the two of you in your universe."
she gave him a small smile, "yeah, thanks tom."
he nodded, opening the door to see benedict dr. strange. the three teenagers and adult explained the situation to strange and after much convincing, strange agreed to send tom back to his universe.
he looked over at the teenagers who helped him, smiling. he hugged all three, his hug with y/c/n making him even more excited to go home and see you.
"tell y/n i said hi."
"yeah, tell this jacob guy i said hey too. if he's anything like me, he must be cool."
tom laughed and pulled mj into a hug.
"i guess say hi to zendaya for me, she sounds pretty awesome."
"she's the dopest friend i have. thanks for believing me, even though it took a lot of convincing." he smiled.
"you're just not very convincing," she said, "no offense."
he laughed, "none taken, i wouldn't have believed me either."
he said his final goodbyes and walked back over to strange who handed him the box containing the spell that would send him home. with a few words, tom was transported back into his room, in his bed. he woke up from a slumber in his own clothes, quickly sitting up and getting up out of bed as he rushed to the living room.
"oh, hey! you're finally up. i couldn't wake you this morning." you smiled from the couch, book in hand. he smiled, feeling overjoyed to see you in front of him.
"you alright, baby?" you asked, getting up and walking over to him. you ran a hand through his messy curls, his hands finding their home on your waist. he pulled you into a hug, kissing your lips sweetly as he took in the smell of your shampoo and perfume. he was home.
"you okay, tommy? did you sleep alright?" you asked, looking up into his brown eyes as they scanned over all your features.
"you'll never believe what just happened to me."
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t-z-gow · 1 year
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Thank you so much for writing some god of war stuff, I feel like there isn’t enough of it out there!😁 This is my first time doing this so I’m sorry if I’m doing it wrong. May I request a Sindri x reader with angst with happy ending and maybe some hurt/comfort?
I feel like Sindri would give the person he’s corting, because he loves smithing, is great at it and he loves you. So I imagine he wants to cort you but is very nervous and can’t decide what to make for a gift because it has to be perfect and Brok’s teasing isn’t helping matters. Meanwhile for the angst, you want to Sindri to cort you but you have a dark past and your afraid that if you tell Sindri about it he will leave you.
Ooooooh I had some FUN with this one!
Sindri x Reader ~ Consequences of the Past
TW: Violence and Blood
Another and another and another and another. His hands moved perfectly synced, his metal that of only the finest quality. Yet no matter how many times, no matter how many hours- how many days he would spend in his little shop, nothing was going right. At least, not right enough. Because what he was working on, toiling over and stressfully sweating over couldn't just be good, hel it couldn't even be great! No. It had to be everything. It had to shine with pristine shape, gleam with wondrous color, and sparkle under even the dimmest light. All of which was incredibly difficult to achieve when he couldn't even get the idea down perfectly.
"Now what's gone and got you're pants in a crack? Throwin' hammers is supposed ta be my thing you know" his brother spoke, causing a further look of annoyance to spread on his face before falling, instead replaced by nervousness upon realizing his brother shouldn't- no, couldn't know what he was doing. No no, that would be utterly humiliating, mortifying! No, he couldn't tell him.
So with burning frustration that rivaled the sweltering of the heated metal, he threw his hammer down before throwing himself into a nearby chair. He was angry at himself; at his imperfect hands and their imperfect work. He felt so incredibly defeated. He had never struggled this much with his work before! It all just came so naturally! Why now did his own skills betray him-?
"Nothing!" He quickly spat out a yell that carried both his nervousness and his irritation clearly, even if he had meant to hide them. He quickly shoved his work away, metal and tools dropping everywhere as he did. Brok simply stared a moment, holding back a laugh at his brother's frantic movements.
As if he didn't already know.
"Ifs I didn't know any better I'd say you's tryin' ta hide somethin' from me" Brok played along, Sindri swiftly turning his head in the direction of his brother, a feigned attempt at shock found in his face.
"What- of course not! I would never- me? I would never do that-" Sindri stuttered and stumbled, utterly incapable of keeping his cool. Brok chuckled a moment before taking some steps closer.
"You's about as good a liar s'a man with his thoughts on his tongue, now get on outta the way!" Brok accused, Sindri frantic to hold back his brother though not willing to touch him to do so. So the man barreled past him, grabbing at his brother's sketched drawings and failed pieces. He paused once he did so, his eyes staring over what Sindri had been so busy with the past couple of days. He was surprised by what he saw as he scanned over idea after idea. All scrapped, all not good enough. His teasing smile at having finally gotten to see these papers faded, a hint of confusion falling over him.
"Hm...what's wrong with these?" He asked, holding up the papers to him. Sindri, now unsure of how to handle the situation gave him a blank look. Did he have to tell him now? Did he already know? Why was he looking at him like that? Sindri could answer none of these questions. However, he was able to answer Broks.
"They just- they don't look right! None of them are right! They're not what they-!" Sindri paused, allowing his irritated state to cool so as not to yell anymore and understand his thoughts more clearly.
"They have to be perfect...And none of them are" Sindri finally clearly explained his actions, his face as serious as this work was to him. Brok only found his grin again, almost amused at his brother's distress over something so simple.
"Ya act like they ain't gonna like whatever ya give 'em" he commented, which made Sindri burn red with embarrassment.
'So he does know' he thought, feeling as if he just wanted to burn himself alive at his point. He soon snatched the drawing from Brok, quickly placing them back on the table as he noted to redraw them on clean paper later.
"It isn't that, It- It's supposed to be special" he finally admitted, seeing as everything was out in the open now. He heard another chuckle from Brok which earned him a slight glare as Sindri turned back to his work.
"Special huh? What for? Gonna finally tell 'em or somethin'?" Broks voice seeped into Sindri's mind, his curious yet somehow knowing tone making the poor gold-plated dwarf utterly beyond thought.
"It isn't any of your business! I-I have work to do! Leave!" He spoke as his hands gestured wildly around him. He quickly showed the blue dwarf out of the work area, though Brok laughed the whole way. Even so, he made sure not to touch Sindri as he finally left the room, leaving Sindri to his work. When silence rang again he let out a deep sigh, his eyes turning back to the papers. He would get it right, he knew it.
Just maybe not yet.
-
You moved slowly, pulling the weight of your sled behind you.
"Damn hunters" you muttered, aggravated at your misfortune. It had all been going so well. You had sought and killed a fine deer, you had gathered enough wood to last you weeks, and you had even gone so far as to go fishing for extra food for both you and your precious wolves. However, it had seemed too good of a night; too good to be true that is. Something was bound to go wrong.
You had been pulling up your final fish for the night when they had attacked. Those bastards, those monsters. They saw you with only one of your wolves and a pup and thought it would be easy. There had been too many and you were overwhelmed. You had managed to save yourself, though they had taken your sweet little Alruna and her mother, Brynhildr, with them. Your wolves, your only family in the abandoned landscape.
They were gone before you had a chance, along with your deer. So all you had now was your sled, your fish and your wood, all of which you pulled along yourself as you went on your way home to grab what you would need. You had been unprepared, unready. You should have known better than to travel around that area with only Bryn and her pup. You should have brought Erik. It was his pup too after all. You were just afraid to leave your home completely unattended. But those parts were as dangerous as they were plentiful, you should have taken extra measures.
But 'shoulda's' and 'only if's' wouldn't help you now. What you needed was your best tracker, some arrows and a good weapon. The first two were easy enough, seeing as they both lay in your home. The third, however, would need to be supplied.
Luckily, and rather strangely, when you made it home you saw just who you were about to go searching for.
"Sindri?" You spoke, quickly earning the dwarf's attention as he immediately turned to you.
"Y/n! I-" he paused, looking over your current state. Tired, beaten, covered in blood and with a violent look in your eyes even after they had softened when you'd seen him. His smile fell and worry quickly took its place.
"What happened?" He asked, almost timidly. He had often enjoyed your gaze on him, however the look you gave him now deeply unsettled him. He had only ever seen you calm. Those eyes usually held such care that he almost felt whole looking into them. Yet now...
He felt so small.
"They took Una and Bryn" you spoke before finally setting the reins of your sled down, quickly moving the wood out of it. You needed it to be quick, so nothing unnecessary should hold it down.
Sindri didn't speak for a long moment, taking in what you had told him as he slowly pieced it together. His eyes widened as his stomach sickened.
"Oh...oh no" was all he could think to say. Your look hardened further which made your held-back fury all the more noticeable. Once you had removed the wood you whistled, Erik appearing only a few moments later. You watched the wolf from the corner of your eye as you grabbed your arrows. He looked around, searching for the family that was no longer there. You felt a part of yourself break at the sight, horrible memories surfacing. You tried to quickly shake them away, but that never stopped them lingering in your head.
"I need a close-range weapon. Mine is at the bottom of a frozen lake" you spoke coldly, venom on your tongue.
This wasn't like you. This anger, this spitting venom. He had never seen this part of you. He understood it, you had Bryn since before he'd first met you and Una was a recent addition. but this...
You didn't even sound like yourself.
"I do," he answered cautiously. Of course he did. He was always prepared, always ready at a moment's notice to supply anything you would ever need. Sometimes you wondered how he did that. How no matter what it was, he always knew.
You wondered if he was as plentiful with his knowledge of secrets as he was with items from his endless item bag.
You lost that train of thought when Erik walked beside you, his face rubbing against your leg as he whined. Your hardened look dropped for a moment as you knelt down, taking his face in your hands as you pet him.
"Don't worry buddy. We'll get them back" you calmed him, even if you hardly believed the words yourself. Those monsters rarely had limits to their cruelty, you of all people would know that.
By the time you looked up Sindri stood beside you with a sword outstretched and concern all by hidden.
"Thank you" was all you spoke as you took the weapon. You didn't look at him as you did, afraid to meet his eyes, afraid that all you would see was everything you didn't deserve.
You quickly moved on, latching Erik to the sled, knowing he would be able to lead you to his family- your family.
You had expected Sindri to leave. Whatever he had come to ask of you clearly wouldn't be done right now and there was no time for your regular conversation and hospitality. Yet when you turned around you were surprised to see him still standing in the same spot. You both didn't move for a moment when you noticed, your eyes avoiding his yet very clearly still staring at him. Before you could ask what he wanted he spoke.
"You know, maybe I should come with you. You might need someone to watch your back" he proposed the request, something which shocked you quite a bit. He was never really the fighting type, nor was he particularly one to get his hands dirty, so having him come along certainly wasn't something you had thought of. You weren't sure what to say for a moment, but eventually you found your words.
"I don't think that's a good idea" you finally spoke, continuing to get ready for the events that lay ahead. Your answer greatly distressed him, something you knew the moment his feet hurried closer to the sled.
"It- It isn't safe to do this on your own. What if you get hurt? Or worse yet killed!" He retaliated, further surprising you. You still didn't look at him, you simply couldn't.
'Then so be it' you thought, though you didn't let the words leave your lips, knowing that it would only stress him further.
"I will be fine. I should have done this a long time ago, this is my consequence. I can't put that on you" you continued to deny him, almost fully ready to leave by this point. He, however, couldn't let this go. He stood in front of your sled, not allowing you to leave.
"Then I'll put it on myself! I'll make your consequences mine! Whatever I have to do just- just...It's too dangerous already, you can't go by yourself' he pleaded with you, almost begging at this point. Your eyes immediately shot to his, fully taken aback by his words. You felt them fly through the air before burning through your skin and flowing through your blood. You felt your heart drop, as if these were the words of death's delusion. Yet your breathing continued and your sight stayed clear. You weren't dead nor dying, simply somewhere else entirely. As if in a world you didn't belong, as if these words weren't ever met to meet your ears.
A tense silence grew as you wondered how you had ever deserved to meet this man, how you had ever grown to be in his care. Your throat tightened as you forced tears from meeting your eyes.
You knew he wouldn't let you leave without him.
"Fine...but if you die-"
"Let's not think about that" he cut you off, hesitating for a moment before taking a seat in the sled. You stayed for a second longer before quickly ushering Erik along.
A long while the sled roamed, Erik tracking down his lost family. Every few minutes you would hear him whine, which only made the fire in your blood burn hotter. Yet it was somewhat cooled by Sindri who throughout your little trip insisted on telling you random stories and bits of his past few days without you. No doubt an attempt to distract your mind, but you allowed for it anyway. Letting your memories play in a horrible repetitiveness would do little to help you now. His ramblings almost made you smile, though Erik's whinings continued to bring you back to your task.
You paused your conversation with Sindri as Erik slowed. You grew very aware of your surroundings, knowing that this is where you had first been attacked. If the sled marks and broken arrows didn't give it away, the spilled crimson and limp bodies surely did.
"What do you think happened here?" Sindri asked. You looked away from the carnage, the familiar faces serving only to sour your already bitter hatred.
"This was where I was attacked" you answered, his look lighting up with recognition at the comment before turning back to you.
"Oh...do you think we're close?" Sindri asked, unable to hide the tinge of nervousness that fell. Your eyes scanned the area with complete alertness as you searched for anything that moved.
"They hadn't ever come out this far before, so if they have a camp nearby then I certainly don't know about it" you spoke with such hatred, something Sindri picked up on quickly. You continued Erik forwards, though this time you followed tracks. Another few seconds of silence hung before Sindri spoke up again.
"You uh, you said that you should have done this a long time ago...do you know these people?" Sindri asked, the question hitting you harder than any lightning strike ever could. Your knuckles lightened as you tightened your grip. You swallowed the pain those words caused, knowing that he was likely ignorant of how deep that question dug.
"They're wolf hunters" was all you could bear to say and frankly the fact that it came out at all was a miracle. Granted it came out through gritted teeth, but it was better than silence. He nodded and, seeing that he hit a sore spot, he backed off and decided it best to distract you again. This was a much shorter distance though and soon you found Erik slowed once more.
Your alertness, though not having left since he first slowed, still managed to grow higher. You heard every slight sound. A subtle movement in the wind, a snowflake falling to the snow, a pebble tumbling to the ground; all of it caught your attention. You cautiously left the sled before silently moving to Erik, knowing better than to leave him behind in this place.
"Is this it?" Sindri asked, to which you nodded as you pulled the bow from your back. You quickly noticed the footprints and their direction and you didn't hesitate to pursue them as your two companions followed after.
All was silent as you walked, which was strange in itself. You didn't know what to expect coming here, but it wasn't this. You remember rowdy men around campfires, the whines of scared animals long forgotten in frozen caves, contests over women, of killers celebrating their feasts. Granted it's been a long while since you'd been here, and even longer since you'd joined in those festivities, but you hadn't thought you would find silence here. It almost felt unreal in a sense.
Traveling further into this cursed territory you saw familiar skulls and bones displayed proudly, as if to taunt you. You shivered in disgust, unforgettable nightmares and memories playing as you passed them.
Kill it! Unless you want it to kill you!
Slice its throat open child
No mercy for the creature!
Those horrible chants, the blood the...the blood.
You became distracted by the thoughts. It took only a moment, just that short moment of pause, for you to be suddenly surrounded.
From behind boulders, down from cliff sides and some you couldn't even begin to guess from where you saw one by one as they circled you.
You drew your arrow quickly, your back to Sindri's while making sure not to touch him. Erik let out a growl as fury filled as your venomous words had been. He ducked, ready to attack at any moment, though didn't leave your side.
Yet they didn't move closer. Despite their numbers and their advantage of surprise, they didn't attack. They only held their weapons at the ready. This was enough to cause you to pause, not releasing the arrow you had pulled. Seeing your hesitation Sindri did nothing as well, though was very much confused by your inaction.
"We're surrounded!" He yelled, stating the obvious.
"I know" you responded, your eyes searching among the unmoving group.
"Why aren't they attacking us?!" He yelled a second time, though you didn't allow it to distract you as you gave a flat answer.
"I don't know" you spoke, though as you did the group parted, allowing you to let your eyes fall on an all too familiar face.
He was scarred and ugly, his face wrinkled from years of scowling in an unpleasent angle. The pelt of a black wolf covered his back, peppered with the falling white snow. His presence pulled something out of you, something dark an hidden, an anger to rival the burning of the sun itself.
"Put the bow down Y/n" he demanded, almost scolding, as he spoke in a tongue known to only those within this evil group of killers. You didn't dare listen to him, your eyes narrowing at the figure.
"I'd rather burn my own teeth out of my head" you replied in the same language. Sindri looked between you two as you interacted, confused and unable to understand the unknown tongue you two spoke, though ready at a moment's notice to go on the attack, despite his noticeable fear of it.
"Whatever rage you feel towards me isn't worth your death. It would be best if you listened" he spoke assuredly and for a moment you stood in absolute shock at his words, absolutely appalled by them.
"Listen? To you? You kill innocent life without reason and I'm the one who has to listen? I'm the one with misplaced anger? I should kill you where you stand!" You yelled, your grip tightening once again. The man's stone-like calmness melted slightly, his own rage shining through
"You are lucky you mean anything to me after what you've done. And for an animal nonetheless! Yet you dare say I'm a killer? Need I remind you of your sister-"
"You speak of her again and I will not hold back" you cut him off, truth dripping with every word, yet he didn't stop.
"You let that wolf free and what was the first thing it did? Yet still you trusted it! That damn wolf. I should have had you kill it when you saw it-!"
You released your arrow. You didn't think, you didn't care.
The last thing you saw was your arrow hit its target, fury overtaking you as everything blended into crimson red and snowy white. You knew you were moving, that you were still standing, that you wouldn't fall any time soon. Yet it was the blood that soaked your vision. The blood of anything that stood in front of you, its crimson color covering your vision.
You didn't know how long you stayed like this. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? You had no clue. All you cared about was getting what was yours back, and killing all who stood in the way of that.
Yet when the screams died and all became quiet, the red color drained. With no other source of rage it left your body entirely. Your eyes scanned as you noticed you were surrounded by the dead bodies of your former family, your former home, their blood soaking your hands as you tightly held the bashed in head of someone long dead. You felt the warm liquid soak your face, your hand wiping it away, only to smear it further. You stood as your adrenaline left and your mind came back to you, your first rational thought coming quickly after.
'Sindri' was what first came to mind, your body swiftly turning to look for him, only for a searing pain to take over your side. Looking down you saw an arrow pierced through your skin. Your eyes widened at the sight.
"Y/n!" You heard his familiar voice yell and for a moment you felt relief, even as you fell to your knees. He ran to you, panic covering his face. You looked him over, seeing light splatters of blood on his armor. He dropped down to his knees with you, his hands hesitated, pulling back a few times in panicked movements before landing on your face.
"Oh no oh no, are you okay? Can you still see me? Are you breathing?" He asked the questions in rapid fire and you couldn't respond, too overwhelmed by the sudden situation. It was only after a moment of floundering that you managed to strangle out a response.
"I-...I'm fine. Are you okay?" You asked, looking him over for his own injuries. He nodded, clearly way more concerned with you.
"We have to get you out of here-"
"Una and Bryn" you countered, the pain of your side coming in full force. You watched him struggle to find an answer for a moment when he let out a sigh of frustration.
"I'll go look for them, you need to wait in the sled" he argued. He further shocked you as he helped you up, holding your weight on him.
"Sindri-"
"This isn't an argument" he quickly cut you off, slightly snappier. Considering the fact that he was already wildly out of his comfort zone you decided to keep your mouth shut for the time being. You whistled, thankful to see Erik run along after with only minor scratches. The wolf walked alongside you, sticking close and seeming to notice your injured state.
Sindri quickly walked you to the sled, sitting you inside of it before going to walk off. You felt your stomach drop at the sight, collections of all that could go wrong plaguing your mind as he left for the nearby cave. You tried to call out, to stop him, but your voice never came. Only your hand outstretched as he turned invisible in front of you, his footsteps the only sign he was there.
Sindri walked with careful feet, turning at any sudden sound. He felt entirely unclean in this place, as if his skin were dipped in mud even just being here. He tried to ignore the feeling for the moment, as skin crawling as it was, and instead focus on continuing forward. Yet he found that when his thoughts weren't held in his unclean state they wandered toward you. Toward something he had never seen.
He had never seen you so...gone...when the fight had started and your eyes drifted over him the only thing they seemed to recognize was that he wasn't your enemy. He had never seen you like that before. He had thought he'd known you so well. It wasn't like the two of you didn't have dark nights. Nights where in the cold of the world you two were each other's only comforts. Even in those dark moments with your eyes glazed over and your pain written in avoided glances, you had never been so full of rage. So full of hatred. It left him at a loss of what to think, a loss of what to feel. To know that someone you care for still had demons dark enough not to leave their tongue, to know that they had evils they held back even now...
What was he to think of this?
The sounds of whining quickly earned his ear, his feet following after. He felt dread overtake him at the thought that the two wolves you cared so much for might be hurt. He wondered what you would do then. Would you hold your normal calm in ultimate grief? Or would you break into whatever monster- no no not a monster, not you not you. That wasn't you. You were no monster in his eyes, you couldn't be. Not when he knew you were so capable of deep care, not when you had given him more than he ever thought possible.
To love, yet to break. To care yet to hold back. Were you who he'd met all those years ago? Or were you what he'd seen in those brief moments of violent mercilessness?
Perhaps both. But he almost couldn't fathom how you lived with both forms of yourself.
The whining led him just where he had expected, the pup coming into view and, to his relief, her mother as well. They barked upon seeing him, clawing at sturdy wooden cages. They seemed to recognize him, which was another great relief.
As he got closer his eyes fell on his surroundings, blood splatters and bones. He slowly took in the sight of other cages, empty but not out of use. He approached the two slowly, now noticing wounds and cuts. They whined when stepping on some of their paws, leading him to believe that they were harmed in some way as well. Sindri soon made it to the wooden enclosures and, despite the dry blood, opened said cages, another shiver of disgust running down his spine. They both slowly left their separate cages, Bryn immediately going to check on her pup, though both had to limp toward each other. The scene dug deep into his heart, cracking it slightly and knowing that it would devastate you the most.
He soon realized that the pup almost couldn't walk and did so only until it met its mother before collapsing into weak whines. Bryn tried to pick her pup up by the scruff, though the extra weight made her fall moments later, her front right paw too damaged to walk with the pup in her mouth. The wolf then looked to Sindri with a whining that sounded like begging as she circled her pup before walking towards him, avoiding getting too close. He already knew what he was going to have to do and he almost regretted not having brought you here with him when he had realized it.
The thought quickly reminded him that he was doing this for you. And that if he was going to get through this, he would have to keep that in mind.
So, begrudgingly, he approached the small pup. He took her into his arms as she whined, though trying to keep her at even just a slight distance. He shushed her, looking back to Bryn before walking once again, now heading back for the sled. He couldn't do much to help Bryn, seeing as she was even taller than him when standing, but she didn't seem to mind too much since he carried what he could.
The walk back to the sled went incredibly faster than his walk into the cave, something he was thankful for. It didn't take long for you to come into view, your eyes turned towards the sky until you heard footsteps approach. You turned to him not a moment later, your eyes widening in relief and pain as you tried to stand, but quickly fell back into the sled. Realizing you couldn't stand on your own you instead reached out again, ready to take the pup into your arms. The moment he was close enough he allowed you to do so, the pup almost ecstatic upon being returned to you as it quickly licked your face, even as it whined.
"Oh thank the gods you're alright! My sweet little pup" you cooed as you cradled the injured wolf, careful with each new injury you found. Bryn reunited with Erik, their affections given before you called the injured wolf into the sled. Sindri hooked Erik back up before he took a seat silently next to you, taking the reins and intending to return home quickly.
Silence. Pure silence between you two. Not a word spoken, not a glance given. He brought you to his home, a place you had been only a few times before. He sought the help of Brok to help with your injury, being as he had no problem with any sort of blood and had expirence with arrows. Upon seeing to it that you were helped, Sindri quickly went to clean off. Brok noted his brother's strange demeanor but sought to help you instead of following him, at his brother's request.
-
You were lucky the arrow didn't hit anything important, but that didn't make the injury hurt any less. You had been laying in this room meant only for storage but quickly made into a sleeping area for a few hours now, having only moved to change your bloodied clothing and wash your crimson skin in a water bucket. You couldn't get up without pain, but you had the comfort of your wolves nearby, their wounds taken care of as well. Una laid curled with her mother on the floor while Erik laid near you as you gently pet him. He seemed to be on alert, taking in every sound with a quick flick of his ear. You understood his paranoia, but you tried to calm him anyway. It only seemed to help a little.
You found your thoughts wandering, as hard as you tried to push them from your head. The thoughts of your old life, of a place you once called home. It sickened you whenever your mind would wander back there, replaying horrible scenes and deep regrets. There was no comfort to be found in those memories, no silver lining. Just a person you wished was separate from yourself. A person you wish you had never been.
A person you knew he could never love.
You didn't know how you were going to explain this to him. You could see it on his face the entire ride here. That look of uncertainty, of discomfort. He had seen you in that state, that hateful state. You had never been so furious before. You could only imagine the questions he would have. Why were you so violent? Why hadn't they killed you on sight? What had the man said to you? What did you say in return? It would make no sense to him unless you told him everything you had wished to lock away and forget. Would it be better not to tell him? Would he forgive you if you didn't? Would he still see you the same if you told him?
Was it already too late?
The questions plagued you along with the memories. You didn't have a clue what words would fall when you saw him next, or if any would leave at all. But you supposed it didn't matter.
Your first mistake was ever daring to think you deserved that type of care-
A knock came at your door. Three, precise and quick. You already knew who it was.
"Come in" you answered, hearing the door open not a moment later. You didn't turn to him despite the pull of your heart.
His feet walked slowly forward, the light sound of moving armor telling you he was close before he took a seat near you. Silence remained for a moment longer before he spoke.
"Are you feeling okay?" He asked with a tone far from his usual stumbling and speed. The sound gave you a deep feeling of dread.
"It doesn't hurt" you replied, the wound on your side painless as long as you didn't move. Another excruciating silence covered the room, the words on your tongue held behind your lips. It only took a few more moments for Sindri to be unable to take this silence.
"What...happened?" He finally asked. The question caused you to close your eyes as if doing so would protect you from the words. You gave him no answer, your head turning away as your petting of Erik ceased, his head slightly rising as you did.
"Y/n, what happened?" He asked again, his voice louder, more demanding this time. Your nose scrunched upward at the sound, the syllables themselves painful. You still gave no answer.
"You're hiding something, I know it. Just- just tell me! Why aren't you telling me-"
"Because you'll hate me!" You broke, your eyes opening as they finally turned to him with their rageful glow showing once more, though it wasn't him that it was reflected towards. His face turned to shock, yours immediately falling to regret as you quickly turned away again, wincing slightly as your body moved. You felt the pressure of tears grow behind your eyes but you pushed them down. You didn't deserve his sympathy.
"You don't know that" he spoke again, though with not as much conviction as before. You scowled at the comment as it was him who didn't know.
"I do" you answered back, your voice more steadfast in your belief than his.  He panicked slightly.
"Then tell me" he requested, your look turning hateful at the request.
"If I'll hate you for your past, and I know that now, then why not tell me? What more damage would it cause?" He requested a second time, fear bubbling beneath your skin that quickly turned to anger.
"Fine" you answered as you forced yourself to sit up. Sindri's hands reached for a moment, panic written on his face as he retracted them and continued the action in a repeated motion until you sat, your breath heaving as you let the sudden pain dull before speaking again.
"I was one of those hunters. I would torture and kill anything laid in front of me. We didn't do it for just food, but for fun. We would sometimes let the wolves out just to hunt them again. We'd kill their pups in front of them, we'd eat feasts of their kin as they starved. We'd laugh when they whined. And it didn't end with just the animals. The weak among us would be used as entertainment. We'd throw them in the cages with the starving wolves and make bets on how long they would live. The kids would entertain themselves by throwing rocks at the wolves and I partook as well. You earned points depending on how close to the head you hit" you spilled every bad memory that flooded through your head, every repeated nightmare, every waking remembrance. It flowed like blood from your lips. You paused only as your voice shook, your tears no longer held back. Yet you continued even as they fell.
"I was going to be their leader had I stayed. I was respected by them" you admitted, your hands shaking, your mouth dry with fear. You didn't look at him, you couldn't look at him. You couldn't bear to watch your first friend outside of that horrid camp, your first love without violence, slip through your crimson-covered hands. It hurt too much to watch, it was too painful to bear.
He reached for you, hesitating only one last moment before landing a hand on your shaky one. Confusion and struck through you, your head shooting to look at him, baffled upon seeing a look of sympathy even after your horrid re-telling. He seemed to struggle to find the right words for a moment before he spoke.
"But that isn't who you are now" he spoke his found words in a whisper, your eyes widening even further, baffled by his acceptance of this. You slowly shook your head, denying his words.
"But that was who I was. That was me Sindri. I did all of those things, I didn't even think twice about it! I-I killed them! I killed people and wolves alike! I was a monster!" You fought back, desperation in your voice.
He should have pulled away in horror, he should have left you with the pain of yourself, he should have never wanted to so much as look at you after what you told him!
You found that both of his hands wrapped around the one he already held as he lightly squeezed
"But you don't do those things now, do you?" He asked, your body shaking as you tried to pull back your tears, to hide yourself, to be anywhere else.
"It doesn't matter-"
"It does Y/n. It means everything. You didn't stay, you changed. That...That version of you- it isn't who I see, who I care about. You're kind and caring and gentle. You aren't that person anymore." He quietly argued with you, his body leaning closer as opposed to his usual distance.
"You risked your life to save those wolves, that could have been your end. That has to mean something" He spoke with a soft yet frantic voice, pleading found in it as he held your hand tighter. You looked at your held hand, wondering what could have overcome him to touch you. It was a comfort you didn't expect on a normal day, and surely not one you expected now. You looked back into his eyes and wondered why. Why did he care so much? Why wasn't he afraid of you?
You crumbled. In the care of someone who looked at your past and saw through it you could no longer stand tall. You had prepared for pain, not comfort. Your sobs left before you could stop them as you found yourself shockingly falling into his open arms. Your head rested against his cold chest plate as he attempted to soothe you with a tighter grip. You two remained this way for an amount of time you couldn't keep track of, though it didn't seem to matter when you were this close. All faded away, nothing but him and your soul's wounds seemed to matter. To think that he would hold you like this, that you were able to be in his grasp at all, it all felt like a dream.
Eventually though, after coming to enough of your senses and calming your sobs, you pulled away. You felt his grip tighten for a moment longer before he finally let go, instead helping you back into a less painful position. Once contact had left you felt calmer, your fear and anger had melted away in his arms.
"Thank you" you spoke in a whisper, though you knew the words barely made a dent in your gratitude towards him.
"Anything, anytime" he answered back and you knew that he meant it. This wasn't his only time he's been there for you and now you knew that it wouldn't be the last.
Your feelings of gratitude were quickly replaced with guilt as you noticed the tears you had left behind on his armor, something he seemed very aware of as well.
"I'm sorry I-I should have-"
"It's okay. I'll just uh, find something else to wear...later" his discomfort was known as he spoke though he seemed to be trying pretty hard to hide it. And despite your still flowing feelings of regret and shame, it got a small laugh from you. Even if the laugh sounded anything but joyful.
The silence seemed less painful now. Or at least a little calmer. Neither of you knew what to say at this point so you decided to ask a less meaningful question, hoping to lighten the air a little, perhaps to once again forget that part of yourself.
"Why were you at my house anyway?" You curiosity asked through a strained voice. The question caught him off guard. So off guard in fact that he nearly touched his neck with his dirty glove, stopping just before doing so but then having no way to get rid of the sudden nervousness that seeped into him.
"Well, I um- I- well um" he stuttered and tripped over words he couldn't quite string together. The sight made you smile slightly, seeing him speak as he usually did made you calm a little, as it always did.
Your smile, however, did not help his sudden state of nervousness.
"I...I made something for you" he admitted, his eyes now turned from your own as his hands found it hard to stay still. You cocked a brow at his words, curiosity temporarily numbing your previous guilt and worry.
"Really? Can I see it?" You asked. He nodded, reaching into his bag to grab said gift. He preferred this change of mood. He'd happily toil over a thousand more of them just to keep this change.
"It's not much. I just had some free time and I uh. Well I thought you might like it" his nervousness was only more apparent the more he talked. You had always found it sweet when he got like that, especially after a long conversation without it. It was as if sometimes he forgot how to speak, or at least how to speak clearly. A thought that made your smile widen as the idea of the dwarf with such skill, renowned for his weapon making, forgetting something so simple.
You had expected a small knife of some kind, or perhaps some new arrows. Any form of small weapon really. So you were surprised to see him pull out a cloth that covered a strange shape; too strange of a shape to be any sort of weapon. He outstretched the item to you and you gave him a strange stare for a moment before gingerly taking the palm-sized gift. You continued to stare at him for a second longer before gently removing the fine cloth revealing...
A metal wolf. One you quickly knew to be Una, the small size and memorable marks showing as such. It was beautifully made, down to the smallest detail. You could practically see her in it, its shining beauty a sight to behold.
You gently picked up the metal piece into both hands, utterly in love with it already. Your eyes then shifted back to the man you had come to adore to see him staring with his own smile along with warm eyes you found such comfort in.
"It's perfect...thank you" your smile beamed and he returned the gesture. However, you noticed how his hands twitched and his body had a hard time sitting still. It was then you knew the moment had passed.
"You probably want to go change now-"
"Yep!" He immediately answered, standing from his spot as his body shuttered. He nearly tripped over himself while trying to leave, which you had to hold back from laughing at. He turned around just before he left, his smile still wide yet now very strained.
"Glad you liked the gift!" He almost yelled before finally leaving the room. You held your smile still, your head slightly shaking at the sight. You then turned back to the gift, your thumb gently gliding over the metal.
For the first time in your life you felt like you might be free of the pasts grip.
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voyaging-too · 5 months
Text
WIP Amnesty: Drou gets a job in the palace
I started a longer story about Drou, but the pieces refused to fit together, so I'm posting them separately.
Drou may have grown up in a household of men, without a mother or a sister to guide her steps, but she still knew how matters of marriage and courtship were supposed to go.
She began suspecting that things were not going to be that simple around the time when she started winning judo matches against boys three or four years her senior. If you could lift men over your shoulder and throw them to the mat, you were unlikely to get courted by them – her brothers told her so, and so did the boys she beat, and the few boys that in the end managed to beat her. For some time, Drou was quite seriously conflicted about whether to continue training if it meant giving up any hope of a good match, especially since being a soldier’s wife was the closest she was ever going to get to the army. But then one of Negri’s men came to her with a job offer, and the question was decided for her.
Mornings she worked as a parlourmaid, fetching and carrying Princess Kareen’s shoes and hats and address books, all the while learning palace poise and etiquette. Afternoons, she trained with ImpSec, learning security protocols and countersurveillance techniques and even more hand-to-hand combat. Negri had her fight men twice her size, men she had no hope of beating, until she no longer even wanted to win, and understood a bodyguard’s prerogative: stall the intruder until the alarm is raised. In the evening, she was quizzed and questioned, on fast-penta and off of it, until the emperor was sure of her loyalty, and her real training could begin. She memorized things that were never printed or even said out loud, maps that Ezar sketched by hand on a piece of paper then burned immediately. She was let on in family secrets that nobody knew about, and warned about family secrets that even she was not allowed to know. And when all that was done – although it was never done, Ezar summoned her once a forthnight to read and memorize increasingly complex new contingency scenarios, escape routes for coups, for uprisings, for natural disasters – when it was close to done, she was finally promoted to the princess’s formal security detail.
The years that followed were hard, and hard to speak of. She got used to a daily routine of complicated clothing and meaningless pleasantries and endless, repetitive safety precautions. She got used to the mind-numbing boredom, she stood to attention while Vor ladies talked about absolutely nothing for hours, she served tea and biscuits while they dropped sly insinuations about the princess’s demeanour or her husband’s manifold affairs, she held still and smiled with a tight grip on the stunner held behind her back, waiting for yet another military bigwig to step away from the little imperial heir already, to stop crowding him before she had to step in. And worst of all, she got used to the aching, unfair knowledge that her judo skills and her security clearances were completely useless against the worst danger her charge was facing: she couldn’t protect Kareen from her husband. She did her best: she stayed near her, serving as witness and deterrent until the princess herself ordered her to leave, she made sure to always be on hand when called, and to make her nearness known to the prince as well. But mostly, she did what Kareen had ordered her to do the first time they talked about why she was hired. She looked out for Gregor. She prioritized his safety, she tried to shield him when Serg was around, and promptly spirited him away to the other side of the palace when Ges Vorruyter came to visit. She tried to distract him from what was going on around him, singing him songs, listening to the stories he made up, and taking him on a secret tour of the palace kitchen that one time Kareen gave her the desperate, whispered order that he was not to be near the imperial residence for the next few hours.
She learned a lot in the palace, and she served her Emperor in ways she could not ever have dreamt of. She felt lonely sometimes, but spending all her waking hours around the woman married to prince Serg, she suspected that solitude had its upsides.
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lemissingmask · 6 months
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[ID: Dark sketch in greyscale of Eliot Spencer with short hair in a cage, lying on the ground and glaring up at a figure in a leather jacket close up in the foreground. There is blood on Eliot's face and hands. End ID]
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Day 27: Locked away
Eliot, during the days working for Moreau, getting locked up and tortured during a job that went wrong, aware that no one will come to help him so he has to find a way to escape on his own.
Ficlet below the cut.
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Eliot was Moreau’s favourite. And while that came with some perks, predominantly freedom to carry out jobs as he chose, none of them included getting rescued from dire hell hole prisons in the middle of hostile territories.
Moreau was a client, just like any other, and Eliot was just one of the many men Moreau had in his employ. Moreau might like him, or like the way he works, but that didn’t make him irreplaceable.
Useful. Maybe I even valuable, in a sense. But not useful or valuable enough to be worth rescuing.
Eliot was going to have to get himself out or he was going to die here, locked away in a small dirty cage.
When Eliot first woke here, he found a man standing beyond the bounds of his prison. A man he would grow to become incredibly familiar with, the interrogation expert his captor kept on the payroll. It was impossible to tell how long the man had been there because Eliot had no idea how long he had been unconscious, but he was watching Eliot intently.
In the darkness, and even during the more brightly lit periods of torture, Eliot rarely managed to see his expression. Not that he needed to see anything to know that the guy was enjoying it.
He wasn’t an efficient, detached, clinical interrogator. He got a thrill from it.
Eliot’s indifference made him angry, made him get sloppy, make mistakes in the restraints in his eagerness to get the rise he sought.
That was how Eliot ultimately found his opening to escape.
One handcuff too loose, and Eliot got one arm free, got it around the guy’s neck, looped it around and choked until he felt the man’s pulse stop and his strained efforts to breathe died away.
The man had the keys on him.
Eliot got them, freed himself, checked for cameras.
None in here, but there were some in the corridor.
He took the man’s clothes, right down to thr distinctive leather jacket, and kept his head lowered as he walked out.
It took effort, it cost pain, to hide the limp the days or weeks of torture had afforded him. But it was worth it to reach the guard room. He took the easier targets there out swiftly, grabbed a gun, checked the ammunition, and pocketed spare clips from the other guards.
He didn’t want to use it, but he might have to.
On his way out the building, bodies left in his wake, he slipped into the room of his captor. He got the combination to the man’s safe out of him in ten minutes, slit his throat, and went to retrieve the briefcase Moreau had first sent him there for.
He returned to Moreau five weeks later than he was meant to with bruises barely a day old still covering his body and every step still agony.
He had stolen a suit, shaved and trimmed his hair, dealt with what wounds needed treating, and walked directly into Moreau’s office to deliver both briefcase and news that the man Eliot was meant to eliminate if opportunity arose was indeed dead.
Moreau received both with indifference, but as he looked more closely down at Eliot, a smile crept over his lips.
He said nothing, but he could see the marks of torture, and it amused him. Or maybe it was blood of yet another dozen people in his ledger. Maybe it was the way Eliot smirked back at Chapman’s scowl as the other man had to move aside to let Eliot reclaim his proper place beside Moreau.
Whatever it was, Eliot had got the job done, and Moreau was pleased.
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Flight of the Love Letters [G.W. x Muggle!Reader]
Summary: You spot a flying blue car in the sky, and the driver of the car, George, walks into your life by coincidence.
Word count: 3.36k
warnings: brief angst
a/n:  JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS IS THE LONGEST ONESHOT I’VE WRITTEN YET I THINK I GOT TOO CARRIED AWAY but this is my apology for not writing for a day or two!!!!
It all started when you saw that blue flying car. You never imagined you’d find yourself buying an owl to send love letters to the driver of the flying blue car.
  It was an ordinary day like no other. You wandered down the streets of London, decked in heavy layers of clothing as the temperature started to drop. It was peaceful, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Your eyes wandered around as you observed your surroundings. People-watching was always something you found yourself enjoying. Every stranger you saw on the street was an individual who housed their own stories, and that fascinated you. Examining the way they dress, tie their shoe laces, or the way the walk always had you guessing their character. 
  You found an empty bench by the road side and plopped yourself down on it with a huff, causing cold mist to come out of your mouth. You straightened out your brown coat before pulling something out of it-- a sketchbook. It was well-loved as tiny scratches and what-nots decorated its cover. The outlines of the pages were crumpled and stained with coffee. You fluttered it open to a fresh page before pulling out a graphite pencil from behind your ear. Tapping the page lightly, you pondered about what to sketch. Your eyes scanned your surroundings, in search of a possible subject. Suddenly, something caught your attention. It was a baby blue car, except it wasn’t on the road like how cars were supposed to be. Instead, it was in the sky. Your eyes widened in fascination. You saw a ginger-headed boy in its driver seat with hands on the steering wheel. You wondered what he could possibly be steering; after all, it was flying!
  Without wasting another second, you glided your pencil over the page. You sketched the basic shapes; a rectangle and a couple of circles. By the time you looked back up, the flying car was no longer there. Defeated, you dropped your shoulders. It wasn’t every day where you’d see a car in the sky. You looked back at your half-drawn sketch of the car. Other than the missing details, it was missing another element. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to figure out the missing piece of the puzzle. Then, it came to you.
  The red-head in the driver’s seat.
  A new glimmer of hope found its way to your eyes as you began to sketch the driver. You tried desperately to recall what he was wearing, given you couldn’t exactly see what he was wearing. You remembered seeing him wear a knitted sweater with what looked to be the letter ‘G’ embroidered in the center. By the time you finished sketching the red-headed driver, the drawing looked complete. To add the magical, finishing touches, you added clouds to frame the sketch of the car. It was complete. You added your signature, and jotted down the title of the sketch.
  “The Boy in the Flying Car.”
--
  Weeks had passed since that spectacle, and you found yourself seated on that same bench. As usual, you had your sketchbook in hand, pencil in the other, with a determined look on your face. You were sketching away, drawing thumb-sized portraits of people who walked past. Some were smudged due to the side of your hand constantly rubbing away at the graphite. You were deep in concentration, when you were suddenly pulled away from your trance by the presence of someone.
   A tall, lanky figure loomed over you, his shadow casting itself on you. You looked up to be greeted by a friendly smile that seemed contagious. You found yourself smiling back at the boy. He had long, fiery locks of hair that fell around his face, like the portrait of a painting. He had freckles peppered around his face like the works of Jackson Pollock. Something about him screamed magic, mystery, rebellion. He seemed like he came from another world donning the appearance of a young teenage boy. 
  “May I sit here?” The boy asked, eyeing the empty spot next to you.
  “Yeah, sure.” You quickly shifted, making space for the boy to sit.
  He was dressed in orange khakis that fit loosely around his legs. His top caught your attention-- it looked familiar. It was green and had the letter ‘G’ on it. It looked hand-knitted with love, and something else. It screamed out to you, telling you it wasn’t just a pair of hands that knitted it. It screamed wonders, sparks of light, and magic. A silence fell over the two of you as the breeze brushed past your bodies. You were flipping through your sketchbook when you stopped on the page where you sketched that magnificent car. You froze when you noticed that the boy sitting next to you looked similar to the boy in the driver’s seat of the car. You slowly turned to him, in shock.
  “Were you,” you paused, unsure of how to phrase your question without sounding like a mental hospital escapee, “driving a flying car a few weeks ago?”
  The boy turned to you, his eyes widened in shock as well. His mouth was wide open, trying to find an answer to your question. You were just some random stranger he took interest in-- how could you possibly have known?! 
  “Well, yes, but--”
  “That’s bloody wicked!” You shouted in uncontainable excitement.
  His face melted between different emotions, ranging from surprise to exasperation. He was pleasantly surprised at your reaction. If any other muggleborn knew he was driving a car sky-high, they would’ve laughed and brushed it off as a joke. You, however, were genuinely interested, and that sparked something inside of him. He wanted to show you more of his world.
  For the next few hours, he told you about his background. His name was George, George Weasley. He was a wizard. You surprisingly took in that information well, for you had a knack for the unexplainable. He went to a wizarding school and was currently on summer break, just like you. He was a year older than you, and had a twin brother named Fred. You were in awe at the facts about the wizarding world he was bestowing upon you. One fact had caught your attention. Wizards communicated through letters sent by owls. That was the moment you fell in love with the wizarding world, and much more.
  The following weeks was spent talking to George on that same bench you’d meet up at the same time. You’d show him your sketches in exchange for more fascinating facts about the wizarding world. However, you also found a flurry of emotions whirling in the depths of your stomach each time you met him on that bench. George was a beautiful boy, you’ll admit. The way his face was framed by his luscious locks of hair captivated you. He was a finely sculpted figure. His smile lines were like intricate strokes of paint, and the way his smiled-- God, he was beautiful. He’d make a fine painting, you thought to yourself. You spent a few moments admiring his features as he babbled on about his favourite shop, Zonko’s. Before you knew it, you were sketching him. You captured the essence of his beauty accurately. Each stroke was drawn with passion. By the time he noticed you were no longer paying attention, he paused. He looked at you as you were deep in concentration. The sound of the pencil’s scritches pleased him, and so did the sight of you deeply focused. He smiled and allowed the silence to befall upon the two of you. You broke the silence after a few minutes of uninterrupted sketching with a question he was waiting for you to ask.
  “Say, George,” you started, not once looking away from your sketchbook, “can muggles send letters?”
--
  You found yourself in Diagon Alley, a place where wizards and witches alike did their shopping for the school year. George had led you to there to buy an owl to keep in touch with him. The thought excited you, and you were more than excited to keep a pet owl. George led you by the hand to Eeylops Owl Emporium, a shop where wizards bought owls and owl care necessities.
  Upon entering the shop, your face lit up in excitement. A wide range of owls lined the store. Hoots and coos popped around the store as you ventured deep inside. Your eyes scanned the store as your smile never left your face. George followed after you, smiling at your child-like excitement.
  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” He placed a hand on your shoulder.
  “Truly” You breathed out.
  “Which one’ll you be buying, then?” He asked, curious.\
  You stopped in your tracks, now thinking about the question. You looked around to take in the colourful selection of owls. One particular owl called out to you. It was tiny, and was adorned with ash-grey feathers. Its big, brown eyes stared at you, as if it were begging you to pick it up and shower it with love. Your heart melted as it hooted.
  “That one.”
  And so you walked out of Eeylops Owl Emporium with your newfound companion, a Scops owl, and George. You held its cage up to your face, admiring the beauty it held within it. The owl was now sound asleep, hooting quietly in its slumber. 
  “What’ll you name it?” George asked you with a hint of interest in his tone. 
  You looked around, in search of a possible name for it. Your eyes landed on George and felt your stomach tickle. You looked back at the owl, then back at George. A grin crept its way up to your face.
  “I’ll name it George.”
--
  It didn’t take you long before you started deploying George to send letters to George. You started off with short letters, telling the boy about how your day had gone. When Errol, George’s family’s owl, came, you were pleased to take the letter from its beak and read the contents within it. George’s handwriting was round, and big, matching his character perfectly.
  However, as the weeks went by, an unshakable feeling started to eat away at you. Each letter you received from him made the feeling more and more apparent. You couldn’t ignore it, but you continued to repress it. There was one letter from George that took you by surprise. It read,
Dear Y/N,
  How are you? Honestly, love. I miss you. When can I see you again?
  The Burrow is getting boring, and summer break is about to end. Fred’s a git, Ginny’s boring, Ron’s annoying, and don’t even get me started on Percy. I want to see you again. I want to see your sketches. As much as I love seeing George the Owl at my window with a letter written by you, I’d rather much see you in person!
  Can I see you again? Tomorrow? At the same bench we always meet up on?
Love, 
George the Handsome 
xoxo
  You were laid on your stomach as you read the letter. George had slipped some magical sweets inside the envelope, and you were savouring every bite of them. The last line of the letter surprised you. He wanted to see you, just as much as you wanted to see him. However, something inside you was screaming at you not to. The same feeling that you dreaded loomed over you again as the knot in your stomach twisted. What the bloody hell were you feeling, exactly? You’ve experienced nothing like it.
  You shot up from your body in a fit of worry as you grabbed a piece of parchment and a pen. You started scribbling your reply. Your handwriting was messy, which was unlike you. 
Dear Georgie,
  I don’t think we should see each other anymore.
Love,
Y/N
That should do it, right? All these uneasy and unexplainable feelings will finally go away once you stop seeing the boy, right? Your life will finally go back to normal; no more letters, no more owls, no more wizards. You’ll be back to your little muggle world, full of muggle people who weren’t George. No more George, no more twists and knots.
--
  The next morning, George had received your letter.
  “What the bloody hell?!” George bellowed out in shock, waking his older twin up.
  “George, bloody hell, shut yer yapping! The sun’s barely risen!” Fred groaned as he threw a pillow at his younger brother, who was hunched over on his bed with a defeated expression on his face.
  George spent the rest of his day grey and sullen. Ginny picked up on her older brother’s dispiritedness and poked him in the side, earning a small wince from him.
  “What’s got you all down and blue?” She asked, looking up at George who had a frown resting on his face.
  “Y/N doesn’t want to see me anymore.” He sighed out, resting his chin on his palm.
  “Just go see her, then. It’s that simple.” Ginny said in a matter-of-fact tone. She rolled her eyes after realising her brother was being sulky over a girl.
  George’s face lit up. Of course, it was that simple! All he had to do was walk up to you on that bench you’d be seated on, and confront you. Why didn’t he think of that? 
  “Oh Ginny, you genius!” George said, excitedly, as he was now determined to see you again.
  Without wasting another second, he bolted upstairs to get changed out of his home clothes. He changed into something more presentable before rushing out of The Burrow, ignoring Molly shouting at him, asking where he was going. His legs ran as fast as they could. He was going to see you, he was sure of it.
--
  There you were, on the bench. You were fiddling with an envelope in your hands. The night prior to this, you were up all night figuring out your feelings for the boy. Nobody in your life had made you feel queasy and on the verge of overheating. George was the first to make you feel such feelings. He was the first person to introduce you to the wizarding world, and the first person you were sure you had fallen in love with-- wait. You were in love. 
  YOU were in love. 
That’s it. That was the answer to all those moments of unease. You were in love with George Weasley, from that moment he first sat next to you on that bench in the middle of London. You fell in love with the wizard who brought you into his magical world. Did he hex you? From the moment you realised you were in love, you scrambled to your feet to write out how you felt. You poured your heart, your soul, your everything into that piece of writing, and shoved it into an envelope.
  You were brought back to the present as you noticed the sun was about to set. Fool. Why did you ever think George was going to see you again after that rushed, one-liner letter. You absolute fool. Your heart sunk as the lamp posts started to light up the streets. You shoved your letter into your pocket, tears now welling up in your eyes as they threatened to spill. You slowly stood up from the bench, sadness slowing your movements. He wasn’t going to see you anymore.
  You slowly departed from the bench that held core memories between you and George. Tears were now streaming down your face as you wiped them away every few seconds. Good bye, George Weasley, you thought. Good bye-
  “Y/N!” A voice reached out to you from the distance. It was a voice you knew all too well.
  You spun around, hope in your heart, expecting George to be running towards you, and there he was. He was sprinting to you, not giving a single care about the eyes that judged him. He was there. George was there. He came to see you.
  “Y/N, I missed you so much!” George cried out as he crashed into you, breathless as ever. He was quick to latch onto you, caging you in his tight embrace. 
  You stood there, dumbfounded, as the boy never once let go of you. The two of you stayed like that for what felt like forever, before you slowly returned the hug. It felt warm and nice. You had longed for this feeling for far too long. You cried into George’s shoulder, as you now had broken out into great sobs, your hands trembling around his waist.
  George pulled you tighter into him, rubbing your back gently. He then led you to the bench, guiding you to sit down before he sat down. He pulled your head on to his shoulder as your sobs died down to mere sniffles.
  “Why’d you write that letter?” George broke the silence. His deep eyes stared into yours.
  “I just-- I’ve been,” you paused to catch your breath, “I’ve been feeling so out of it and--”
  You stopped, remembering what was in your pocket. You were too tired to speak, and decided the letter would speak for you instead. It was risky, but you couldn’t give a care in the world anymore. You pulled the crumpled envelope out of your pocket and handed it to George. He eyed the envelope closely, with a questioning look. He looked at you, then back at the letter. He hesitated for a moment, but then found himself unhousing the letter from the confines of the envelope.
Dear Georgie,
 I’m not sure when you’ll ever read this, but God forbid you read it in my presence or I might just drop dead.
  I don’t know when this started. It all started off as a spark. It was harmless. Then, it turned into a small flame. I suppose the letters we exchanged, or perhaps that trip to Diagon Alley, fanned the flame. With each passing week, I found myself yearning for you. I was so lost, so confused. I thought you were really beautiful, and wanted to encapsulate your beauty within my sketchbook; to keep that memory for myself. I then started to realise I wanted you all for myself as you wrote those letters to me. Soon, I started to spiral. It was inappropriate for me to house such feelings for my bestfriend.
  George. I’m in love with you.
  You were my first friend, my first wizard friend, my first love.
  I thought that distancing myself from you physically would rid me of these feelings, but I was wrong.
  I’m mad for you, George Weasley, and I’m going mad just thinking about you.
  Please, don’t leave me.
  Upon reading the last line of the love letter, George’s heart fell. Were you hurting all this while, while hiding behind your beautiful, cursive handwriting? He looked up from the letter to you, who was looking at him expectantly. George took your hand in his and kissed it.
  “Y/N,” George started as his hands move their way up to your face, “I love you too,”
  In that moment, passion overcame the two of you. You smiled in relief-- like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders.  Your hands cupped his face, pulling him closer to you. Your lips grazed each other’s.
  “I’m so happy.” You whispered into his lips.
  George tilted his head, his eyes not breaking contact with yours while they were half-lidded. His hands interlaced with your hair and pulled your lips closer to his. Sparks. Absolute sparks. You closed your eyes, melting into the moment of bliss. The world was yours and George’s for a split second. Soon, your hands were entangled in his hair, massaging his scalp. His scent of vanilla and nutmeg sent you into overdrive, emboldening you to deepen the passion of the kiss. However, you forgot that breathing was essential. Soon, the two of you pulled away from each other as you gasped for air. The both of you were flushed. After all, that was your first kiss. You made sure to add that to your list of your firsts with George.
  “Love,” George looked into your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere.”
--
[GIFs not by me]
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auxiliarydetective · 1 month
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Sanji/Cora/Zoro Fic Snippets, Part 2
More of the prompts that @starcrossedjedis sent me!
These are both a bit more on the shorter side, hope you don't mind! Also, I originally promised myself I was gonna do fluff only, but a little bit of hurt/comfort snuck into the second one ^^"
Enjoy!
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💛 Reunion Kiss/Relief
Cora was leaning over the railing, waiting for Usopp to come back up with Sanji. Whatever had happened to Sanji over the last two years, it was concerning, to say the least.
“That idiot,” Zoro grumbled, coming up behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist.
That was… new. Well, one of those things.
Cora chuckled. “You’re always so nice to him… Glad to know at least that hasn’t changed.”
Zoro spun her around in his arms, then placed a rough hand beneath her chin and kissed her on the lips. The kiss was oddly gentle, yet desperate at the same time, and all the while just as rough as Zoro’s kisses always were. It was the comfort that Cora had been yearning for for the last two years, mixed with the thrill of something new. When Zoro finally pulled away from her, she immediately missed the taste of his lips.
“Eager, are we?” she breathed.
“Can you blame me?” Zoro chuckled. “It’s been too fucking long.”
“It has.”
As if she were just a doll, Zoro easily scooped her up into his arms, letting her wrap her legs around his waist.
“There we go. Did you get smaller?”
“No, you idiot,” Cora laughed. “You got taller!”
“Did I?”
“Yeah! I’m wearing taller heels than usual and you’re still bigger than I remembered.”
“That’s good.”
“Is it?”
“You’ll get tired of looking up, so I get to carry you around more.”
Once again, Cora laughed, clinging on to Zoro so she wouldn’t lose her balance and fall. Not that he would ever let that happen. She let herself lean against him, running her fingers through his hair, trying to familiarize herself with every single detail about him again as quickly as possible. New freckles, new scars, the same shapes and colors she knew so well. The same but different. And she couldn’t wait to get to know him all over again.
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True Love’s Kiss/Magic Kiss/Healed
Cora stood in front of her closet, going through her clothes. She was looking for some old clothes to improve on, an embroidery project for those long days at sea, for those nights spent out on night watch, whether voluntary or not. Clad in only her underwear, she flicked through the various clothes hangers, looking at one garment, trying on another… Finally, she picked out an old skirt, plain black and uneventful. One of the few items she had actually bought and not sewn herself. Perhaps… Swiftly, she put it on, spinning around once or twice, then walking over to her vanity table to grab a piece of chalk. Carefully, she started sketching patterns and lines onto the fabric.
That was until she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze got caught on those characteristic lines on her back, senseless and discolored, as if someone had dropped their sewing kit and the needles had gone everywhere. Some were bigger, some were smaller. Some still hurt sometimes.
Suddenly, she heard someone call her name, and there were steps in the room. In a hectic motion, she yanked one of her jackets out of the closet and swung it over her shoulders, covering her back. Then, she noticed who it was: Zoro and Sanji, probably there to have her settle an argument or a bet. Or both. Or being clingy. Maybe all three.
“God,” Cora gasped, “don’t scare me like that.”
“Sorry, princess,” Sanji apologized.
“The door was open,” Zoro just shrugged.
“Was it?” Cora sighed, sounding both annoyed and tired.
“Aren’t you supposed to cover your tits when people come in?” Zoro asked, causing Sanji to give him an annoyed stare.
“And since when do I care about covering my chest, huh?” Cora replied. “I’ve got some very pretty bras, why not show them off? Such a shame to be hiding them under shirts all the time.”
“But you’re still hiding your back?”
“… Touché.”
Typical Zoro. He always knew how to hit a nerve, but he had no idea how to do it gently. “Gentle” was more Sanji’s style. True to this, the blonde cook came up to hug Cora within seconds, gently running his fingers through her hair.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he whispered.
“Wounds on the back are a swordsman’s greatest shame,” Cora just mumbled.
“Don’t use my words against me, you got it?” Zoro growled, pulling the jacket off of Cora’s back. “You’re not a swordsman, you’ve told me that over and over. And that rule only applies in a situation where you’re in control. Where it’s fair. You didn’t even have a chance to fight.”
“Look, Cora,” Sanji mumbled, cupping her face with his hands as Zoro ran his fingers along the scars across her back. “How you got those scars doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over. They healed. And we’re not going back there anymore. Never ever, you hear me? They’re never gonna find us, and if they do, we’ll be far away before they can even try to catch us. Alright?”
Cora nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes.
“That’s my girl,” Sanji smiled, giving her a gentle kiss.
“If any of those guys even try to get close to you, I’ll chop off their heads,” Zoro declared.
“I just wish I could’ve gotten out of there sooner,” Cora mumbled.
“You did what you could, and what’s done is done. Let them be assholes all they want, everyone’s gotta die one day.”
Cora hummed quietly, then a smile spread on her face. “Why did you come here anyway? Did you need anything?”
“That waiter claimed he was a better kisser than me,” Zoro grumbled.
“Really?”
“Because I am,” Sanji beamed. “Right, Cora? – It’s about the technique, not just shoving your tongue down someone’s throat.”
“You never seem to mind it when I do it to you,” Zoro chuckled. “And neither does Cora, by the way. Right, babygirl?”
“I, uh… I dunno,” Cora stammered. But then she smirked. “I’d need a direct comparison to know for sure.”
Immediately, there was a mischievous grin on both Zoro and Sanji’s faces.
“As you wish, madam,” Sanji purred.
Just then, Zoro picked Cora up from behind, causing her to let out a surprised shriek. Within few steps, he placed her down on her mattress. Both of the men crawled over her and started covering her in kisses, all the while trying to push each other away, throwing Cora into a giggling fit.
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sherifftillman · 2 years
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can i request eddiexreader where the reader is also lowkey considered a freak, she's a painter and plays dnd and wants to join hellfire? thank you! no worries if not!
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 735
You're listening to your Walkman as you sketch out your latest piece to paint when you're home. The sound quality of you taping a recording of your favourite album from the family record player isn't the best, but it's still listenable.
Something hits your headphones, knocking them askew. You look up to see a group of preppy girls standing around you, already laughing behind their hands. You simply smile sarcastically and carry on, hand on your headphones to readjust them when you hear, "Oh my god, isn't it pathetic? The way she tries so hard to act like she doesn't care. So transparent."
You shrug, "Don't know what to tell you, dude. Just go on and do your thing. I'll do mine. Never the two shall meet."
"Why do you talk so weird?" Another girl asks.
"Didn't you hear your little friend? Everything I do is in the desperate attempts that you girls will come over, disturb my peaceful existence and just harass me until I can't take any more," you reply monotonously.
"You think you're better than everyone just because you like your tiny, specific, insignificant things? Get real," the first girl scoffs. "It doesn't make you special, sweetie. Nobody's gonna pick you."
"Good! Let them leave me alone! God," you pull your headphones back on and turn away from them. The poor quality music doesn't drown out their laughs as they leave. You're back in the zone until someone taps you on the shoulder. You look up to see Eddie Munson's smiling face. "Can I help you?" you ask scathingly, now that you're not in the mood, as you remove your headphones entirely and pause your cassette player.
"Whoa, whoa," he holds his hands up, stepping back once, twice, before pulling up the seat opposite to you. "Just here to check on a fellow misfit."
"I don't need checking up on, thank you," you reply. "Just... Go on back to your little boys' club, it's fine."
He frowns, "Come on, you can't fool me. You and I, we're kindred spirits. You can talk to me." He looks down at your book, and points at one of your warm-up doodles. "Cat Lord? Nice. Haven't utilised him yet."
"Yeah, well. Neutral aligned, doesn't really care much for people, only cats. Doesn't sound like a bad life if you ask me," you shrug, and Eddie chuckles.
"C'mon, not all people suck that much," Eddie chimes.
Head still bent over your sketchbook, you look up at him. "Let me guess, you're the exception?"
"Well, I don't wanna brag, but..." He stretches out. "I've caught you peeking into the Hellfire clubhouse once or twice. I don't think you'd be doing that if you weren't curious." A deep blush forms across your cheeks, and it doesn't go unnoticed. "Hey, look up at me, I wanna see something."
You move to face him, closing your book and crossing your arms on the table. "Alright, fine. What?"
Eddie toys with his hair for a second before also leaning in to grin widely at you as he mutters quietly, "Kiss me if I'm wrong, but I think you want into Hellfire."
Your whole face turns bright red. "Excuse me?!"
His smile somehow gets even bigger as he leans back, "Knew it. All you ever had to do was ask." He rests an elbow on the table, lifting his fist up to lay his cheek on as he looks at you.
You can't bring yourself to look at him, because ever since he propositioned you to kiss him, you can't stop focusing on his lips. "Like I said earlier. It's a whole boys' club. I've not exactly seen any girls at your table."
Eddie shakes his head. "We've had oneshots with female players before. But you're right, someone's gotta be the first to stick around for a whole campaign. And I'd be honoured to have you be that for us."
You sigh in defeat. "Yeah. Alright, fine, you got me. If you really want me there, I'd... Actually kinda love to join."
Eddie does a little victory dance in his place. It's actually quite cute in its own awkward way. "Have you got a character in mind? I'd love to talk backstory with you sometime... Amongst other things," he leans back in closer to you.
Just as it was starting to cool off, your blushing makes a comeback. "I'd... Kinda love that, too."
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ithebookhoarder · 2 years
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I saw that your requests are open! I hope you're having a great day! Also...I was wondering if I could get some headcanons for the Bridgerton siblings with an S/O who has chronic pain? Like they have really good days and really bad days where their pain is bad? I know that wasn't super talked about back then but i think the concept would be interesting! Thank you!
A/N: You're welcome - thanks for sending it in. I'm good, and I hope you are too. It's so cute of you to ask. It really does mean a lot. I hope it's ok but I have done the first 6 siblings, as I have yet to read Hyacinth and Gregory's books, and they're still kids in the show - but I can add them when I know more, if you want. I also have been fortunate enough in life not to suffer from chronic pain, so if I've got anything wrong from my research, please let me know!
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Masterlist:
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Anthony
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He is a protective baby - as we know, and as his s/o you better believe he will be especially devoted to keeping you safe and happy to the best of his abilities. 
He would have no qualms talking to whatever physicians you needed, and would have meticulous notes of things to remember. If there is a poultice, tincture, or lotion to be found that can bring you relief then he will spare no expense. 
Will happily wait on you hand and foot on good days, but especially the bad ones. For example, he isn’t above carrying you to wherever you wish to reside in the house, if the pain is too great, and will all but swaddle you in blankets and pillows once you are there. As long as you get to leave your room and have a change of scene then he will do whatever you require - even taking time away from running the estate to sit with you. 
He's also the first to insist you needn't attend any event or meeting you do not wish to, even as Viscountess.
Anthony would be keen to offer physical aid too like massages, or wiping a cool cloth along your brow, if it eases the pain. You know he feels better doing something himself, personally ensuring he has helped somehow. It puts his mind at rest as well as yours to know he has done all that he can. 
He also insists on hot baths regularly, so that you can relax and spend times in his arms (sans clothes, which is a perk to him)
He even learns how to operate the stove so that he may bring you hot bottles for your bed, and warm milk too (which is a miracle if you’re being honest)
He knows better than most what it is like to have emotional highs and lows, and does his best to keep his own feelings in check, particularly when you have a bad day and lash out. He may not always have the answer but he will try - and that’s all that matters in the end. 
Benedict 
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He hates seeing you in pain, first and foremost. However, he doesn’t hate having a reason to dote on you. If anything, he probably takes his role a little too seriously and can turn in to a right mother hen - much to his mother’s amusement (see his behaviour with Sophie in the book if you need proof). 
You’ve had to enlist her help more than once, in calling off Benedict after he refuses to let you out of your bed, stating you need rest. However, he soon learns that it’s better to keep you active, if possible, and distracted. So, he compromises by keeping you entertained downstairs with a variety of activities.  
He loves watching you paint and sketch, and will happily pose for you, or complete work of his own beside you. You can spend hours like that, sipping tea and making odd remarks about one another’s efforts. If the weather is nice, and you’re feeling up to it, he’ll take you to work outside too - much to your staff’s relief, given how much paint, clay, and charcoal gets everywhere. 
Benedict is also happier away from the Ton, so has no issue spending days with you at home - he has a particular fondness for lying with you in the sunshine, reading poems, sipping spirits, and whispering words in your ear.
The only time he welcomes company is from your families - in particular, he will often invite Eloise to come visit, knowing how much you enjoy having her company. Together they occupy you with debates about books and poetry, and other topics that seem to be of sudden importance to them both. 
He also loves taking you to galleries and museums on your good days, and will happily spend hours sat on a bench, staring and debating at picture after picture. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t do his best to take your mind off of things when you are home too… and upstairs. After all, a good time in bed was meant to make one feel remarkably good - a theory he is keen to test.
Colin 
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If you do not feel able to go to your favourite places, he’ll do his best to bring them to you. It’s why he has the garden kept well maintained at all times, and sends for flora from across the globe to be planted for your pleasure (with Phillip’s help). 
That way, you can enjoy them from any window in the house, or out in the fresh air. 
He’ll happily stroll around with you, pointing each plant out and telling you about them and his travels. 
He’s also keen to make sure you keep active, as you have less bad days when you do. 
You also seem happiest when you’re able to make it away from your house, so plans as many excursions as you feel up to - whether it be a short ride on horse back, or taking a swim at the beach. 
Like Anthony, he would be happy to get you any medicinal aid he can, and isn’t above sourcing less than conventional options from abroad. However, he is much more careful about giving them to you then he was with Benedict… 
He also makes you laugh. He knows it better than most cures, laughter, and even on your darkest days will refuse to let you wallow for too long without smiling. His stubbornness will often succeed, as you can’t help but give in - even if it is just so he’ll leave you in peace. 
I feel like he’d also get a pet of some kind for you, and would offer to do the more arduous tasks, depending on what it is. He just loves how you light up when you see them, and the joy they bring to your life in general. 
Daphne
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Would be such a mother hen, but in the best way. For instance, if you have medicine to take, she will know exactly what it is and when. You can imagine she has a neatly organised list somewhere and god help you if you try to make her deviate. 
If you need something, be it a scarf, a walking stick, or a cushion, you better know she has one always on hand… and spares elsewhere too.
Despite having servants, she’d also enjoy being able to make you something like soup, or a herbal brew, depending on recipes given to her by her own mother or Lady Danbury. The act makes her feel good, and you can’t help but feel loved when she brings whatever it is to you. 
She also insists tea is a cure for all ills and keeps you plied with a constant supply - with biscuits too
She’s also keen to make sure you spend time playing with any children you have, knowing it makes you all so happy and is a perfect distraction. Plus, it gives you a reason to move about and be sociable even when you may not feel like it. 
However, she knows when you start to feel tired or too much pain, and will make sure to send the children to play elsewhere for a little while. This would also apply to any social events you decided to attend, if you were having a good day. The first sign you wished to leave, and she would be summoning a carriage in record time. 
She’d also see you to bed and hold you close, brushing a hand through your hair like her mum used to do with her
Eloise
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Eloise would do her best to keep your mind occupied and will read to you for as long as you like. 
She will always find new books for you to try either together or by yourself. She’d also encourage you to create stories of your own, whether written or just said aloud to her and your children. Even if you could not always go to places in person, you could travel anywhere with a little imagination, as Eloise would remind you on the bad days. 
She’d also rope your children (if you have any) into performing theatricals for you to keep you entertained. You enjoy assisting when you feel able to, and will perform alongside them, or simply assist with making costumes or sets. Colin and Penelope would greatly encourage it when they came to visit, with both offering their authorial talents. 
Just as she won the twins over with stubborn persistence, she would be just the same when it comes to you. She will offer you kind words and affection, but she is also stubborn enough to ignore you if you try to protest or refuse to try to get out of bed. She’s had Bridgerton’s for siblings - she knows how to get what she wants and how to handle all kinds of moods. 
Besides, the world is wide, and so much awaits you. There is always something new to learn or try, every single day, as long as you’re open to the prospect. 
Speaking of learning, you can bet she will track down as many medical texts as possible about your condition, and will do her best to research as much as possible about how it is caused, and how best to treat it. She doesn’t care how many eyebrows she raises when she starts badgering lecturers from medical schools. As long as she gets answers, that’s all that matters. Basically, she is the kind of person who seeks to make up for what she may lack in understanding, with effort and enthusiasm. 
Francesca 
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Francesca is a caring but practical person, like most of her siblings. She knows how to best help aid you with your pain management, and makes it her life’s mission to take care of you and ensure you are as happy as can be. 
Her favourite thing to do would be to play instruments to keep you entertained, knowing you can hear it throughout the house on your bad days when you can’t make it out of your room. 
However, your favourite performances involve you sat front row in the parlour. Those happen on good days, as does your own playing. 
Francesca would be the first to encourage you to play and practice when you can / feel like it - or she’ll teach you how to, if you don’t know how to already. 
It’s good to keep your mind busy and to grant you some activity without too much strain. So, she’ll also buy different pieces and duets for you to learn too, so that you can then show them off to her family when they next visit. It also gives her an excuse to nestle in close beside you on the piano stool. 
She’d be encouraging and good at offering kind words when you need them - and when you don’t. You realise it’s something she learned from her mother, after witnessing it yourself during one of the Bridgerton brood’s visits. After all, Francesca knows how good it is to have family around when one feels down, and she would be keen to seek their advice. 
She also knows how good they are at having fun and are more than guaranteed to bring a smile to your face. 
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