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emeritusemeritus · 2 months

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Haunted [Eddie Munson X Reader]

Title: Haunted.

Pairing: Eddie MunsonxReader {Acquaintances to lovers?}

Timeline: Set around S4 (no vecna)

Summary: Eddie sees his dream girl once day at the record store, but will he ever be able to find her again?

Warnings: Minor swearing, Eddie’s a little clueless and a little dismissive for a while. A bit of sexism and mentions of stereotypes. Brief mentions of drugs (it’s Eddie). ‘Un-named freak’ is called Ritchie in this story. Use of y/n. POV changes towards the end. Not Beta read nor spellchecked.

Word count: 3.4K

Eddie Munson had always considered himself particularly unlucky in life, wether it be the family he was born in to, the hand he'd be dealt in life or the way he was so often misunderstood by every outsider. But he'd never considered himself cursed, nor haunted; at least not until the 8th of March, 1896.

It was a Saturday, as boring an uneventful as they come, a little drizzly but mild and completely, mind numbingly boring. He'd done a deal earlier that morning and had decided to spend a little of his fresh earnings, hoping the record store would have something new to catch his eye. The Vault was an old independent record store downtown that had suffered greatly during the Starcourt Mall's rule, with RadioShack and Sam Goody's drawing in most of the younger crowds that left business scarce but the older generation, collectors and music fans that favoured minority categories or alternative sounds always found a home at the Vault, such as Eddie Munson. He'd been waiting a week for the Vault to receive a shipment of the new Metallica album Master of Puppets, though Rob the owner had assured him it would be in by Saturday, nearly five days late after the release. Eddie's hands were itching to get hold of a copy after being pumped by the debut album of King Diamond only a month before, but he was more than ready for something new.

He'd planned to meet Gareth at the store downtown and was waiting out by his van, stood leaning against the hood to smoke a joint when he spotted something entirely unheard of for Hawkins.

A girl, dressed in black high waisted pants that were ripped at the knees and a band shirt that looked eerily familiar to him. It was a Judas Priest 'Defenders of the faith' shirt, identifiable by the distinctive red and blue album logo on the front of the shirt, along with the white priest logo on her chest. She had a chain attached to her belt and chunky black boots just incase the shirt wasn't impactful enough.

She was beautiful, her hair flowing down her back with shaggy bangs and some shit around her eyes Eddie didn't understand that made them look sexy as hell. He was floored, frozen and almost drooling as he watched her walk across the sidewalk towards the record store. He cursed Gareth for being late, making a mental note to put his character in mortal peril during his next campaign and felt himself almost drifting across the road to get a chance to talk to her, but stopped himself at the last minute. He thought of how he could 'accidentally' bump into her, no doubt around the metal/ hard rock section of the record store and strike up a conversation but he couldn't think of a single way to make it seem authentic, or to talk about.

He swore out loud when he saw her walk out only a few minutes later with a smile on her face that he was certain would be etched into his memory forever. He was certain he'd never seen her before, a hot chick that was into metal in Hawkins? No way.

If he wasn't already head over heels for the mystery girl already, he was smitten as soon as she pulled away, the distinctive sounds of Metallica blasting through her speakers, the speedy trash metal echoing through her black car and out into the streets of Hawkins getting quieter and quieter as she drives away.

From that moment, he looked everywhere for her at school, around Hawkins but he could never spot her.

"Gotta shoot, got business," he says, standing suddenly and closing his metal 'lunch box' with a reasoning clunk. He hot tails it out of the school cafeteria and begins making his way across the lot, down his regular route towards the tree line when a noise stops him.

Master of Puppets.

He'd know that riff anywhere, he'd been trying to learn it for days now after finally getting a copy from Rob at the vault. His head shoots up like a meerkat on a hill, scrutinising the cars and the bodies littered about the lot to catch a glimpse of you but he's too late. He sees your black car pulling out the lot and onto the dirt road between the schools and drops his head in defeat. How could he have missed you? He'd spent days searching for you, keeping his eyes focused on the people around him, looking for any sign of you. He'd visited family video more times than he ever had in the past incase you'd decided to venture out there, even asking Buckey and Harrington in a round about way wether he'd seen 'the new chick in town'. He'd downplayed it obviously, he wasn't about to start competing with Harrington so he just mentioned you in passing, not mentioning your appearance at all. They'd seen nothing.

Then Henderson barrelled in one day about this new girl he'd been talking to, apparently she was super cool, asked him about his shirt, d&d and had completely outed herself as a nerd, quoting Star Wars back to him. Eddie had felt hope rise up in his chest but his interest quickly faded when Henderson described the girl wearing a pink and white dress with a white long sleeved shirt underneath, definitely not the girl Eddie had been looking for.

It was a game of cat and mouse, though Eddie was definitely losing the game.

Eddie was perplexed, distracted; even more so than usual. So when a figure appeared beside him at the end of Click's Friday morning history class, during which he'd spent the entire time staring off into the distance through the window and not writing a single note, not even pulling out a scrap of paper nor a pen, he jumped out of his skin at the sudden interaction.

"Hi, you're Eddie right?" The girl says a little shyly, drawing his attention away from the window, though he hardly looks up at the new customer.

"£20 for a half ounce bag, I don't sell single joints right now," he says absently and quietly, reaching down for his lunchbox, "Picnic bench out in the clearing at lunch."

"Oh, no, I wasn't," she begins to say, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You know what, never mind."

He watches as the girl walks away, reaching for her backpack and shoving in the notebook she was holding. His eyes follow her as she pushes her backpack over one shoulder and walks out of the class without sparing him a final look.

He stews on the stranger interaction until lunch when he gets distracted by the guys arguing over the new girl Henderson had mentioned earlier than week.

"She came right out and quoted A New Hope like it was nothing, I'm telling you she's a secret nerd,"Jeff says, picking at his lunch.

"Like how?" Mike says, half paying attention.

"I asked her how she liked it in Hawkins and where she was from before and she said, and I quote, 'Mos Eisley space port but worse'".

"You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious," Dustin mimics, doing his best Obi-Wan impression, earning a snort from Gareth and a rare smile from Ritchie.

"I'm telling you, she's a total nerd," Jeff smirks, taking a bite of his cafeteria pizza.

"A hot nerd," Gareth adds, earning a nod from Jeff and Ritchie.

"You know she asked me about D&D, maybe we could invite her along for a taster, Eddie?" Dustin says, each of them turning to their leader who was barely paying attention.

"Eddie?" Gareth repeats, finally getting through to Eddie.

"Huh? Oh yeah whatever," Eddie says, clearly having not paid any attention to the conversation happening around him. The group look at each other with various levels of concerned expressions and confusion, wondering where the stood on inviting the new girl.

Dustin, never one to follow the rules, decides to step up and invite the new girl anyway, taking a giant leap that Eddie had technically agreed to it. He catches her between classes and invites her to tonight's campaign, telling her that she wouldn't be able to actually play until she was formally enrolled and created a character sheet but she could watch. To his relief, she agreed with a warm smile and eager nod, making his own smile beam across his face.

"Drama room after school, don't be late, he hates that!"

"Who's this?" Eddie says, when Dustin, Lucas and new girl walk in, spotting the intruder from his place in the throne. It was the same girl from class that had walked up to him without a reason.

"Y/n," Dustin answers casually, walking away and taking his regular seat. "You said she could sit in."

"Did I? Henderson?" Eddie's tone is clipped and his eyes pierce Dustin in a harsh way, not that he notices.

"It's okay, I can go," she says awkwardly from her spot, feeling the weight of rejection settling in. Everyone else had been so friendly but Eddie seemed to want nothing to do with her.

"Nah stay," Eddie says, finally looking in her direction and acknowledging her as a person. She smiles briefly and nods, though it's somewhat forced, still feeling painfully awkward to be where she clearly wasn't wanted. "You sitting down? Just don't interrupt and no questions for now."

"Ok, be straight with me," Eddie says at the end of the session, having told her to stick around afterwards until it was just the two of them. He'd caught sight of her multiple times during the game when she would cheer along with the guys, looked tense in the pets where he lingered for tension and had followed the brief rules he'd laid down dutifully, causing no issues at all. "What's a girl like you want to do with D&D?"

"Girl like me?" She challenges, her right eyebrow raised at the implications of his words.

"Yanno," he says, throwing the last of the equipment into his cardboard box he used to lug the stuff back and forth, "you don't seem the type to be into D&D." He thought of record store girl once again, she would definitely be into d&d, or at least he could convince her to be.

She catches him looking at her cream coloured sweater and blue jeans, his eyes clearly looking at her outfit as to make a point.

"So what, you think there's an angle here? A regular girl can't have an interest in something that isn't Madonna or nail polish? You really have such a low opinion of women?"

"No," he says quickly, turning around to face her as he senses her clipped tone, only to be met with a smirk tugging at the side of her lips and eyebrow still raised. She was goading him.

"Just saying, it's a little unheard of," he says, much more meekly now. He watches as she simply shrugs, offering nothing back.

"I like what I like and I'm not gonna change that for anyone," she says with another shrug, unknowingly earning a multitude of respect from Eddie as he watches her speak. She really was pretty. "Just because I don't think Tom Cruise is the hottest man on the planet and Bananarama didn't change my life doesn't mean I'm not normal, and because I like D&D and shitty horror films I'm not girly enough for society's dumb labels."

She watches as Eddie's smirk forms on his face slowly, his hand extending towards her, "welcome to Hellfire."

It's Wednesday afternoon and the bell has just rang signalling the end of the school day when Eddie waits out by his van, smoking a cigarette and waiting for y/n. They were drawing up her character sheet that night ready for her induction to the club during the next campaign, though she'd have to sit the current one out as they were already more than halfway through. Eddie had nipped back to his trailer to pick up a few of his manuals and spare sheets ready for them to draw up her character and she'd offered for them to go to her house after school to work on it.

Eddie discovered that she was actually pretty cool, as she's started sitting with them at lunch and opening up to the conversations around her. She'd spouted an incredible knowledge of Star Wars a couple of times and had even interjected when Jeff had misspoken about something from The fellowship of the ring, blowing Eddie's mind. He hadn't really looked at her until that night at Hellfire but ever since he'd found himself unable to look away. She was gorgeous, even in her little pink sweaters and fashionable dresses. Though he felt conflicted because as much as he liked y/n, he couldn't stop thinking about the girl at the record store, his dream woman.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, couldn't get away from Robin," she said with a smile, appearing in front of the van by Eddie's side.

"Sure you're good with us going to yours? Your mom won't like totally freak out?" Eddie says with a smirk, crushing his cigarette under his sneakers. The girl huffs out a laugh, ignoring Eddie's claims and pulls open the passenger door before climbing in, wordlessly telling him it would be fine.

"Dad? You home?" She shouts as they walk through the door to her home, having ignored Eddie's compromise of parking a little back from her house, knowing the usual protocol. She's ignored him entirely and told him to park on the drive before flashing him a smile and climbing out.

There's no reply from within the house and Eddie relaxes slightly, glad he wouldn't have to face a set of disgruntled parents that inevitably thought he was corrupting their sweet daughter, pink skirt and all.

"You want a drink?" She asks, guiding him into the kitchen. "Coke, beer, Mountain Dew? Oh crap I left my shit upstairs, you wanna do it there?"

Seeing Eddie's slightly startled look, she burst out laughing, realising what she'd said. "I meant the character sheets Munson."

"Oh yeah, yeah," he says, slightly tapping his foot and letting out a laugh that sounds inauthentic even to his own ears. He didn't know what was happening to him. Sure she was pretty, more than pretty but being alone with her like this made him almost painfully nervous.

"Gonna stand there all night?" She quips, noticing him stood exactly where she'd left him after making her way to the stairs. He suddenly catches on and follows her, nervously clutching his cold can of coke and ascending the plain white staircase, mentally cursing himself to get a grip.

He hadn't been in a girls bedroom before, he felt a little weird about it. Would it be cute and flowery? Stuffies and dolls littering the place? His room was a self-proclaimed disaster with more clutter than he could deal with, messy and a little dingy, but it did the job.

"Holy fuck," he says as he steps into the room, following you absently through the wooden doorway as your room comes into view.

Posters of various bands line the walls, ticket stubs and little trinkets dotted around, noticing guitar picks tacked onto the wall near the stubs. There's an honest to god ramskull on the wall above the bed and your vinyl and tape collection is seriously impressive. There's a Jaws poster one side and a similarly impressive book collection near a wooden desk near where you stood. There's a black acoustic guitar on a stand near your closet and an array of black shirts on a shelf nearby.

But then he spots it, a Judas Priest shirt thrown over the chair near the desk- the defenders of the faith shirt that he'd seen his dream woman wearing outside the vault. His eyes flick up to a Judas priest poster on the wall, a creased and slightly ratted up poster that illustrates the show as Madison Square Garden , June 18th 1984- the same one as what was on your shirt.

"You're hot girl?" Eddie turns around, mouth agape and wide eyes roaming across your body.

"What?" You say completely confused at his reaction, thinking nothing of it as you stepped over to your desk to gather the mock character sheets you'd been working on to show him.

"You were at the Vault last week? You got Master of Puppets?" He says frantically, stepping towards you.

"You've been stalking me?" You say curiously, watching him have a mini freak out.

"That was you? But you had ripped jeans and the boots," he rambles, unable to piece the parts together of his own mental puzzle.

Suddenly, you laugh and realise what's happening. You walk over to your closet and pull open the doors, noticing Eddie was watching your every move.

"These?" You ask, pulling out your black Doc Martens, the platform style you'd been wearing when you visited the record store.

"Holy shit, holy shit," Eddie says, staring at the boots that had been imprinted into his mind since he'd seen you last time as he falls back to sit on your bed. "But."

"The clothes?" You say with a smile, understanding why he was so confused. He nods gently, looking around the room still with a moderate sense of confusion, before his eyes fall to you again. You smile and take a seat beside him on the bed, trying not to confuse him more.

"When we moved from New York, mom thought it would be best if I tried to blend in, said that small towns like these don't accept people like us very much. Dad gets away with it because of his job but even my mom started fancying her self up a little more, putting on a show I guess so the small town folk wouldn't gossip," you explain. "So she went out and bought these monstrosities," you say gesturing to the cream coloured sweater you wore. "Only thing is that it's Indiana and it's hot as balls, which sucks when you can't show your arms."

"Wh-." Eddie begins to question but you already anticipate this and begin to pull off your sweater, thankful you were wearing a black tank top underneath.

Eddie's mouth falls open even wider, his eyes bulging as he looks upon your revealed skin, seeing the tattoos that litter your arms, intricate designs and art flowing across your body.

"That explain it?" You say with a gentle laugh. His face is a picture and you wished that you could have taken a photo to keep the memory forever. You reach up to your hair and pull away the clips holding in your bangs and pull down your scrunchie, throwing it across the room before tussling your hair to fall back in place.

It really was you, his dream girl.

"That day, in Click's class," he says, piecing more of the puzzle together.

"I wanted to ask you about Hellfire," you reply, looking up from under your lashes at him, now that his face had returned to normal and mouth no longer agape.

"I was a dick," he says guiltily, his brows pulling together slightly.

"Eh," you shrug, "you weren't to know."

"I judged you like an idiot, when all this time you've been right here under my nose."

He leans in slowly, and you follow his direction until your lips are touching. It’s soft and sweet and absolutely perfect as you feel his soft lips against yours, a playfulness and a shyness to the kiss.

It falls silent for a few moments after you pull apart with shy smiles, but it's not uncomfortable in any way.

"You really saw Priest in '84?" He asks, looking between the shirt and the poster on the wall. You laugh, throwing yourself on the bed to get comfy, pleased that he was feeling more comfortable now as he follows you down to lie beside you on the bed, character sheets forgotten beside you.

"Yeah at the Garden, you know they got banned for life after the show? It was crazy, everyone was ripping up the seats! Very metal."

“Very metal.”

Taglist requests

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#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson taglist #eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson #Hellfire club

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pomrania · 3 months

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If you're going to be doing beta work for something, there's this short little phrase you should know about, only three words, that'll make stuff much better for both you and the author: "is this intentional?"

Sometimes it's not intentional, it's an actual error ranging from "typo" to "forgot the specifics of an important plot point", and your duty as someone doing beta work is to point it out, and possibly help with ways to fix it.

Sometimes it IS intentional. The phrasing is supposed to feel unusual; the character is in-'verse saying something that doesn't match established facts; it's not a typo of a common word but rather the correct spelling of an uncommon word; the narration is deliberately unreliable....

Once you know that something was indeed intentional, you can work with it. Maybe that involves writing down a list of the unusual words and phrases, so you can compare anything in the future to how it's actually supposed to look (because spellcheck rarely recognizes neologisms formed from Classical Greek so it's up to you to catch any typos with them). Maybe, once you know what the intention is, you disagree, or think there's a better way to go about it, or feel like what was written didn't properly convey what it was meant to get across; those are all things you can discuss with the writer.

The great thing about "is this intentional?" is that it's open-ended, and it's not an accusation. It doesn't place blame on anyone -- not the writer, not yourself -- and it leaves things open for how the other person wants to respond. "Oops, I'll fix that", or "I couldn't think of anything better to write", or "can you tell me what the issue is, because it seems fine to me", or "yeah this character isn't very consistent", or "heehee you've noticed my foreshadowing", or anything else.

#no fandom #not a reblog #rambling

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mayfieldss · 9 months

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If we ever broke up - JJ Maybank

Warnings: mild angst, language, not edited / spellchecked because my computers are broken, and I'm just posting scraps from my phone.

"You two make me physically ill." It's Pope, voice heavy with disgust as JJ sits with his arms around you. Your figure is blanketed by his too-big-jacket, and the eyes of your friends linger on you both, perhaps for too long. "I don't think what you're doing is allowed, actually."

"What exactly are we doing, Pope?" JJ is warm, his body the comfort you need as he holds you closer. "Scaring you with our presence?"

He squeezes you tighter, his querie ringing in the air between your friends, and for a moment, you can believe that it's all fine. You're happy like this, with him, and he's happy with you.

You'd just pictured it differently, a life with JJ where chasing treasure wasn't all you had. Before all of it you could see yourself with him, dancing in the middle of the night, air cool on your skin. You could picture kissing him, no one around with only the stars to wittness. But that wasn't how you'd turned out, and despite what your friends saw, it wasn't as beautiful as you made it seem.

You'd loved JJ once, and you still did, but perhaps not as much. And there was something in you that knew he felt the same.

But still, you sat there, his arms keeping you pressed to his body, as if you were one person. That's what you used to be. You had once been close enough to say "attached at the hip" wasn't an exaggerated term. Now, you weren't so sure JJ belonged to you at all.

"I think I'm gonna head out." You stand, separating yourself from the safety of JJ's grasp. Whilst playing things safe is comfortable, it's not always the best remedy, and you know this now.

"You okay?" It's JJ, voice gentle before Pope cuts in with soft words of his own.

"Hey, Y/N, I didn't mean anything by it, I think y'all are cute"

But that's not the reason you're leaving, and somehow you think JJ knows. "I just think I better get home." Your gaze flickers to the blonde boy, and he stands in the few seconds it takes you to make eye contact.

"I'll walk you."

And he does. He walks you home, and the two of you stay in silence the whole way, until the driveway of your house lays in wait for you to walk upon it.

"Something's wrong, with us." You don't know why you say it, but it leaves you before you can think it through.

But JJ nods, "Yeah."

"I don't think we can make it right."

There's a silence, and JJ turns away, wincing into the blank space surrounding him.

"Yeah," he mutters the same word again, refusing to look at you. He knows what you have isn't working, that the two of you are unstable and unhappy in the limbo at which you've found yourselves. He just doesn't want to let you go, despite it all.

"JJ," your hand comes up to hold his, squeezing it gently. "We have to stop. This isn't healthy."

"I know, I-" he pauses, tearing his hand from yours and running it through his hair in the rough way that suggests his panic is setting in. "I love you, though, like, I do still love you..."

"But it's different now. Things between us are different now." You finish for him, the words enough to solidify how you both feel. It's tough, heartbreaking, and you can feel pieces of you falling away with every second that passes. But it's been too long, and if you don't rip the bandaid off now, it will hurt even more when you finally try.

"JJ, it's over. This has to be over."

Your words cut him, tearing through his skin right to his beating heart, and yet he stays standing, a solem nod all he can give.

"Yeah, I get it." The way he looks at you is painful, dull yet sharp in a way you can't describe. "I get it, I know we don't work right now, but we used to. We fucking used to. We can find that again."

"Jay," you want to stop him, you want to find the words to fix it. You can't.

"We found treasure baby, we can find us."

He's trying far too hard, and he knows there's nothing he can say. It's broken, and he's never been the type of glue that sticks long enough to fix something.

"This isn't a movie, JJ. It's not working, it won't work." There's a sigh that leaves you, a heavy one. "Night." You don't even try for a smile, not even a weak one, as you leave JJ to the darkness and head to your door.

OUTER BANKS TAGLIST: @scenesofobx

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thesongweave · 7 months

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Fights

They all suffered injuries in their adventures across the wilds, sure. Before Halsin and Jaheria joins the company, the healing and treatment of wounds tends to fall between Alathea and Shadowheart. What they can't fix with their spells has to be dealt with through potions, poultices, and good old fashioned bandages.

So the first time (after admissions of feelings...) Thea takes a serious injury in combat while Gale was back at camp...

TW: injury

EDIT: updated with some spellcheck, lol.

They'd had an argument that morning - gods know Gale had been thinking about it almost non-stop since, especially since he had decided to stay in camp to get some space and cool off.

For the life of him though, he couldn't quite recall what had STARTED the argument in the first place ..

Maybe it was the shadows, the looming threat of Moonrise ahead...

They had already been there once, freed the surviving tiefling refugees &and some gnomes - slipped back out with none the wiser.

Then came a brief stop at Last Light before heading off after Balthazar.

It was that night he'd stolen away, turned the shadowy sky to stars and confessed to Thea how he had been feeling, and found she felt much the same.

They had been dancing around each other for some time now, really, but if he wasn't worrying about the orb, then Mystras command....

Gale had not wanted to burden Thea with his feelings just for him to turn around and die. But, he felt it not right to leave things unsaid, either.

The next morning, they'd run into Raphael, the damned devil. He wanted Thea and company to take care of a...well, Raphael was rather vague on what they'd find, but he wanted a thing taken care of. In exchange for information for Astarion.

Then there was the gauntlet of Shar, hidden under the Thorm mausoleum...

And now they were camped there, amongst the ghosts and the crumbling walls.

At any rate, Thea and Gale, who usually saw eye to eye on most things, did not see so this morning. So the bard, stewing from the... disagreement, had struck on out to finish the trials with Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion in tow.

Gale had been attempting to read, unsuccessfully, when a sudden commotion broke the silence that had been the camp. He heard Wyll shout out for him, which drew Gales attention to the returning adventuring team.

What he saw made his blood run cold and the blood drain from his face. Shadowheart, magic glowing around her hands, and Astarion flanked Karlach. All three were bloodied and battered, but it was, of course, the smaller figure that Karlach carried in her arms that drew the wizards gaze.

"Thea, oh gods no," he thought, book discarded quickly to the side as he grabbed his staff and ran up, "please, no..."

Karlach was laying the elf out in a hastily laid out bedroll by the fire pit, Shadowheart never ceasing in her healing magic - for all the good it seemed to be doing. Why wasn't it working?

"What happened!?" Gale felt a disconnect. He heard himself talking, but it sounded miles away as his eyes took in Theas unconscious form.

Like the others, she was covered head to toe in blood. She was unnaturally pale, paler than Gale had ever seen her.

Halsin had swooped in next to Shadowheart, partially blocking Gale from Thea. The former first druid set straight to work.

Everyone was talking, fast and frantic, but Gale wasn't listening, their voices all blending together to make an almost overwhelming buzz in his ears.

Trying not to panic, the wizard stepped around Halsin and Shadowheart, finally finding a spot to kneel next to his lover, praying frantically that it looked worse than it was.

"Fuckin - fuck me, but we didn't hear them coming. More of those undead justiciars, they portaled in behind us--" Gale picked out a bit of the story.

"They were in us before we knew it." Karlach was on the edge of being frantic, herself. Thea was her best friend, after all, and the tiefling made it a point to keep an eye out on the elven bard.

Gale gulped, seeing the broken haft of an arrow protruding from Alathea's midsection. It wasn't the only wound, of course, just the thing that drew his attention first.

"Healing not working--"

"Might be cursed--"

Shadowheart's and Halsins voices blurred together. Gale tried to listen, but his mind just kept playing back the angry words from that morning.

Why had they even argued in the first place? Why did he let her go angry? He should have been there...

Was she even breathing? Gales's mouth was dryer than paper.

She had to live. Gods, please, she had to. It couldn't end now, not like this.

He reached a shaking hand out to Thea's face, fingers just barely brushing her skin.

She was so cold.

"-- Gale!!"

Shadowheart's sharp voice snapped the wizard back, out of his own mind.

"Bloody hells. I think it might be a bone-chill curse. I cannot remove it - can you?" The cleric's tongue was sharp, a hint of exasperation edging into the panic that was in all of them.

Gale swallowed, trying to focus. Nodding, he faced Alathea's much to still body, just managing to focus enough to recall the incantation for removing curses.

Magic flowed from his fingers into the elf, the magic floating like must through the air as it settled over Thea.

There was a quiet over those gathered now, waiting...

"There!" Halsin exclaimed, soft streams of healing magic finally taking hold. "Come, Shadowheart. We may yet save her."

There was a flurry of activity as the two worked, quick as they could. Karlach and Astarion tried, maybe only half-heartedly, to get Gale to move to give some room, but let it go when he refused to move.

The few minutes it took for the druid and cleric to work their healing spells dragged on for what felt like an eternity to Gale.

Both healers sat back once they were done, sweat-soaked and exhausted.

Halsin was the one to turn to Gale, concern and worry clear in his features. "It is up to her, now. We have done all we are able to. Shall we move her elsewhere to rest...?"

Gale blinked, tearing his gaze from Thea. He had been so focused on watching her breathing...

"Ah, yes. My tent. I will watch her, of course." Gale felt lumps growing in his throat and stomach.

He'd never argue with her again if he had any say in the matter. Whatever it took to have Thea open her eyes once more.

Halsin nodded, standing and moving to pick the much smaller elf up. Gale stopped him, standing and gently gathering his lady love up in his arms. The druid nodded in silent understanding, simply resting a hand on Gales shoulder a moment before turning away.

"You will get me if anything changes, hm?" Shadowheart asks as Gale turns towards his tent.

He just nods.

Thea is so very light, he realizes. He noted it before, but now...well, he holds her just a bit closer, just a bit tighter.

She's so very still.

~to be continued~

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #tav x gale #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 companions #gale romance #bg3 gale #gale bg3 #gale dekarios

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infraaa · 1 year

Text

『regarding the order for the lovely @lyforlyras— seeing as they saw the work I made entitled Seven Minutes for Longan Dragon Cookie… they sent in an order for me to replicate that for a… special red and black haired cookie…~』

苺の罪 🍓 『𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐎 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐈』

red velvet cookie x fem!reader

baker’s notes // here’s a little gift for the customer to go along with this— this piece is heavily inspired by this song. ☺️💉🩸Also, I know japanese, and tried my best to pull kanji from the song while listening to it and translating it on my own. I used a livejournal article by user silvermoon249 as a spellcheck, as well as the original booklet.

tw // vampirism/blood play, period sex/oral, heavy sadism, degredation, bare backing, implied breeding, asphyxiation play (choking), impact play, and again, as I am infra, what a perfect opportunity to shit on licorice again! Yay! More lico slander! (Also licofait)

【cw // spin the bottle】

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

春の日、あの雪崩れの様に、止めど無く　滑り落ちて

頒-わか-ちがたい命題を掌-て-にしたいのなら

涙が枯れるまで。。。

『Like the descent of the spring sun, without end, it slips away.

If I wish to hold this inseparable theory in the palm of my hand, until the tears dry up...』

Darkness is insufferable. That’s okay though, because these little goofballs of darkness has off days. Licorice was talking to some idol chick walking next to him, drinking a tea… when…

“OH MY GOD SKRUNKS!” Parfait squeals, causing Licorice to jump in his footing. He looked over to her with half laden shock and made sure the tea in his to go cup didn't spill anywhere on him. "AAh! Gods, Parfait... be careful with that voice. I almost spilled your drink." He sighed and stopped his walking with her as he saw her eyes agleam, her blue eyes perfectly mirroring the blue sky above. "I have an idea, like, a suuuper idea! What if we took this Arizona Tea can and played around with it a bit? Ya know, like a dating game for couples and stuff?" "Ehh..? W...What are you talking about? A dating game?" She nodded with excitement and started skipping along the pavement. She got some steps away from Licorice before she turned, raising her arms outward like the wings on a plane. "Liiike... spin the bottle? I heard that one of your friends is also dating someone. Maybe we also get them to tag along!" He stood before her and felt his shoulders slightly lurch forward, his eyebrows furrowed in nervousness. "Ah... Par.. Parfait Cookie, I don't think--" "It will be so~so~fuuun!~ Pleeeease?" With big puppy dog eyes as pure hearted as water, Licorice looked into them with his own pale yellow ones, stuttering slightly in his wording before sighing once more, taking another drink of the tea in the tallboy can. "Fine. I guess I'll join, but--" "YAAAAY!" "AGH GODS PARFAIT...! GIAH!"

They got back to the your cottage with completely opposing energies. Parfait bounced in the door while Licorice walked in like a regular cookie. "We're back guys!" Parfait chirped as she went over to you and gave you a hug from behind. "Hey babes!" You pat her handon your collarbone with your own, looking at her from the corner of your eye. "Hey, Parfait, hiw are y--" "Where's your hubby? We HAVE to get him in here, Red Velvet Cookie, where aaaare yoooou? Hehehe!" From out the kitchen window you could see Red Velvet look back at you from the side of the yard, hanging with his dogs. He gathers them and starts to head back in the house.

He walked in and saw the layout of the people in the house before him. A sluggish Licorice to his right, and a bouncy Parfait Cookie clinging onto you, his lover, to his left. One of his dogs charged into the house to greet Parfait, jumping onto her leg and barking excitedly. "Red, there you are!" "Oh gods..." Licorice muttered as he collapsed on the couch, sighing. You walked up to him and leaned against the plush cushions. "What's wrong, Lico?" you asked as you looked down at the semi embarrassed cookie. "Parfait wants us to play a dating game together, the four of us. I only agreed to make her happy." You looked back over to Red Velvet and Parfait who had turned herself around wuth a sigh. "Yeah, we both agreed to that during our walk, won't you join us? Pleeeease Red Velvet? It'll be fuuuuun!" He took his forarms and jumped, like a small kid begging their parents for something. Meanwhile, Red Velvet stood stiff as a board, looking to Licorice. "Uuh... I think the tea you got for her... made her... hyper-- Licorice come get your girl, please." He got up and walked ovet to her, taking her hand and murmuring at her to stop. Eventually, Parfait got the two of you to join, and you four found yourslves sitting on a towel on the bathroom floor, next to yours and Red Velvet's shared bedroom.

“This is so stupid, this is so stupid, this is so stuuupid!” “SHAHT. AP. LICO!” The bathroom filled with silence as the dissolution of Parfait’s voice slowly drifted off on the walls of the bathroom. “Now, whoever touches their nose lasts, spins the bottle first! Ready? Go!” Parfait chirped as she quickly put a finger to her nose. You and Red Velvet followed suit, leaving Licorice Cookie unprepared. “Oh god damnit.” He said with a sigh.

ねぇ（幼き日の）幻聴が（響き渡る）非道-ひど-い（耳鳴は）

オ・サ・マ・ラ・ナ・イ！

『Hey, (the childish) voices in my head (echo) their cruel, inhuman (ringing in my ears)

Will not settle down!』

"Dreidel dreidel dreidel, I made it out of clay, and when it's dry and ready, then dreidel I shall play." Licorice bluntly sang as the bottle spun around on the tile floor. Ity slowed, and landed on you before hesitantly wiggling on the floor so that the cap would land on his girlfriend instead. He hesitantly looked at you, who in turn smiled awkwardly. The rules are rules after all, and you leaned forth and kissed Licorice on the cheek after a nod from Parfait gave you her permission. Red Velvet watched you with falcon like eyes during the whole duration of this awkward exchange, a sudden boil forming in his chest. After you leaned back, you looked to Parfait to see who would spin next. You all did the finger to the nose as quick as you can, and then it was Parfait's turn! She spun the bottle excitedly with the snap of her fingers. "Ooooh, dreidel dreidel dreidal, I made it out of clay!~ And when it's dry and ready, then dreidel I shal plaaay!~" She excitedly sang as she watched the bottle spin around quickly, slowing soundly with the grooves of the bathroom tile. Like clockwork, the bottle landed on you once again. "This bottle seems to like you." Red Velvet commented. Parfait looked at you with a sudden flush to her cheeks... chuckling to herself before leaning in the center of the circle only to meet you halfway in a friendly little kiss-- nothing too much, just a peck. You both leaned back into your positions in the circle with red faces and goofy smiles.

It was finally Red Velvet's turn. He spun the bottle and waited silently, only humming the tune of the dreidel song and was the bottle landed on Licorice, he grimaced at the boy clad in cheap robes. "AWWW! Kiss! Kiiissss!" "No." Red Velvet cut off Parfait's fangirling as he forcefully moved the bottle to point towards you. "Honey, you can't do that, that's against the game's rules--ah!" He suddenly got up from his place in the circle to pick you up off the ground and take you into your shared bedroom, locking the door shut upon entering. Parfait and Licorice heard the lock on the door click and looked to each other in nervousness. "I knew this would happen. Red Velvet is always like this." Licorice sighed, "hence why I really didn't want to do this." Parfait looked at him and furrowed her eyebrows a bit, humming in thought.

"Should we leave then? I don't think I wanna be here for much longer..."

"That sounds like a great idea."

大丈夫、少しおかしいだけだから「誰か」を畏れる事は、もうやめにしよう？ほら、もうすぐそこで、 Ah、淡い死の薫りが充満-みち-てきた !

『It’s all right, since it’s just a little strange Shall we cease being afraid of “someone” already? Behold, very soon there, Ah, it’s been filled with the fleeting aroma of death!』

"What are you doing-- ah!" Red Velvet let out what sounded like a gutteral sounding growl as he slammed you against the door, knocking the air straught out of your lungs into his own colliding into you forcefully and with fervor. You felt one of his hands graze at the skin of your waist as it trailed underneath the fabric of your top. He could smell faintly the small yet still noticeable scent that was Licorice and Parfait across your face and lips. Forcing your bottom lip open with a gesture of his thumb at your chin, you gasped as he infiltrated your mouth, seizing control of your tongue in a mere instant. You pushed at his chest, pleading for air, and when he felt you push at him, he bit down on your bottom lip. Hard. You squeeled, and pushed him away from you with a soft wince coming from your mouth, putting a hand to your now bleeding bottom lip. Backing away from you he smiled and put his hands to his hips. "You are incapable of understanding." He whispered darkly, almost manipulating the light in the room to diminish. His cerulean eyes started to creep along your figure as you started to walk around him, still holding onto your lip. "Understand?" You asked, trying to hold onto the thick blood in your mouth.

"Aggravating..." He sighed, walking towards you, your figure, trying to evade him. However before you could, he kicked your footing from underneath you, causing you to fall on your back on the bed. Laughing at you, you felt him kneel down at the opening of your legs, taking the fabric of your shirt and pulling you to sit up. "You purposefully wanted me to do this, right?" "No! No, that's not-"

"Such a bad girl..."

Your eyes widened as his mouth curled into a sadistic smile. Climbing on top of you, he grazed his thumb across your bottom lip;, taking whatever blood that was still there and sucking it off of his thumb. Sendinng a shiver down your spine, of course, but this is a side to him you've never seen. Sure, you two have been intimate before, but he's never been mean to you in this manner. Making you out to be a brat when you're not, slut shaming you for kissing another man's girl, hell even allowing that rat of a man to allow you to kiss him, even if it was on the cheek which was innocent enough to be passed on, even in game, it made you wonder... was he jealous? Red Velvet barely showed signs of jealousy or envy, he dubbed those emotions to be signs of weakness. But such emotions, albiet childish, he was feeling them hard in his gut, and he was taking it all out on you.

"You made me this way," he darkly cooed, a new sheen coming clear in his eyes. He bent down close to your face, almost literally pouring his water colored eyes into yours. "You wanna get shameless? Well baby, I can show ya shameless." He said snidely. He took his phone and disconnected his headphones from it, allowing the song that was playing on his phone to spill out into the room from the small speaker at the bottom.

あの丘で十字に、磔-はりつけ-られてる愛磨り潰した苺の罪-ストロベリィジャム-を、ひと匙塗りたくれば－もっと、美味しいよ！

その瞳に映るのは悦び嗜虐-いたみ-の狭間にある「罪」と共に飲み干して────………… 飲み干して────………… 飲み干して────…………！

『Crosswise on that hill, a crucified love Once the mashed strawberry jam of sin is spread thickly with a single spoon, It’s even more delicious!

Delight is reflected in your eyes Along with the ‘sin’ at the threshold of sadistic pain Draining you dry────………… Draining you dry────………… Draining you dry────…………!』

"Show me more then. Give me more." Red Velvet growled as he attacked your lip in a violent bout. You squeeled into the kiss, having the air flushed out of your mouth a second time, only for the feeling to repeat a third when he spanked your outer thigh. It was damn near suffocating the way he handled you. Biting your lip again, you cried out in pain, muffled by the cushion of his own lips. He sucked the leaking blood out of your bottom lip harshly, leaving it reddened and marked. "Good. Cry. Cry more, harlot." He spat, spanking your thigh repeatedly as you let out an even louder whimper with each hit. He sat above you, still, but only for a moment. After what appeared to be a moment of thought, he slid back down, taking your bottoms with him on the way down. "Ah, honey wait!" you cried out, quite concerned. He looked to you and smiled. "Don't act like you don't want it, I know you well enough to know you do. And besides..." He whispered as he proceeded to slide your panties down while trying his best to pull the tampon you had out of you. Your eyes widened as he stared at the used tampon with jealousy in his eyes, partially thinking with his obvioously horny yet big boy galaxy brain that the tampon wasn't only used to block the blood from escaping you, but also to pleasure you as you walked around. He growled at it and tossed it somewhere on the floor. "I... you know that I'm..." you whispered, shaking in nervousness. "So? A little blood never hurt anybody."

So brazen today... you never thought you would see this side of him. He inserted a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out once more as you felt him enter you. He sighed started to quickly pump his hand in and out of you. One of your eyes closed from the dull pain slowly mixing in with pleasure, much like how sugar caramelizes strawberries when mixed about. Moaning, you tried to squirm off of his hand but, as you knew he probably would, he took his free hand to hold you still, right on your tailbone it sat as it stopped you from leaning back.

"Ah ah ah, no no no, don't you go anywhere..." He cooed lasciviously as he dove down into your soaked bleeding cunt, making you gasp out as you felt his mouth voilate your clit.

血濡れた、このエレジーの中割り切れず、撹拌-ブレンド-する。。。甘酸っぱい極上の血を注ぎ込めば、倒錯者が、嗤う。。。

そぅ（戻れないよ！）表面に（拡がりゆく、）紅-あか-い（様式美）ト・ケ・テ・イ・ケ・バ！

『Soaked in blood, within this elegy Unsatisfied, stirring and blending... Once infused with the finest bittersweet blood, The pervert smiles.

That’s right, (there’s no going back!) Spreading across (the surface,) the deep red (elegant pattern) As it melts away!』

He sucked away at you, blood smearing across his cheeks in earnest with your attempted movements to grind on his face. The delivery method of thjis pleasure was all from normal, all from orthodox, this wasn't like him at all yet, you welcomed the beast within him in open arms. You loved him. His love... at this moment, was enough to leave you dizzy. For a moment your surroundings melted away, your vision clouding due to the heat inside you. You felt your cunt however continue to fill, and as it woke you from youur ecstacy filled trance, you sighed and looked down at the red and black haired man below you slurping away at your clit like noodles, pumping away at you still. Through a broken breath, you managed to mutter, "how... how m-many fingers... are y-you using?" With a snow lick of your clit, making you moan out in a pain filled lust, he licked his upper teeth and swalllowed, his mouth and tongue crimson with the stain of your blood. "Only three," he panted, licking his lower lip next, eyeing you like a predator as you mimiced his panting and heaving, your chest rising up and down with heavy breaths. "But I can tell you loved having my fingers inside you." You moaned as you felt his digits swirl inside you, and then slowly sliding out only to ram into your blood soaked vagina, leaking onto the hard wooden floor and your panties below your feet. You screamed out in agony as he did this, feeling his sinful actions take over your mind quickly.

"Mhm... good girl. Be a good girl for me and take it while I eat away at you." He teasingly licked away at your clit once more, taking it into his mouth, sucking on it before letting it fall out of his mouth with a quiet pop. "Oh my FUCKING. GOD, you taste so good..." He murmured before taking your clit back into his mouth, growling on it like a dog at its food bowl. You felt your back arch as you felt the ridges of his top teeth graze at the sensitive organ, biting it softly. Throwing your head back at the growls he left at your bottom half. "You feel that huh?" He talked with his mouth full of you, "you feel the growls shaking through your cunt? Hm? "Mmmm... the vibrations of my throat onto your little cunt-" He felt you tighten around his fingers, your body tensing up with every pump. He laughed, kissing yhour clit. "Are you gonna cum?" He asked sweetly, the sweetness mimiced toxicity however, like a sickeningly sweet cherry syrup sliding into your mouth. You nodded shakily, and in response to that, he yanked his fingers out of you, making you whimper and cry out, wanting to feel more of his adrenaline rush. "Unnhh... Red Velveet... whyyy..." you dragged impatiently, trying to each for his blood stained hand, however he pushned you down before you could even get the chance.

大丈夫、誰も試したことがない密花-ヒソカ-を摘んで添えれば、赤裸々に視える二度、届かぬ祈り Ah、昏い瞳-め-に伝染-うつ-る諦めが────…………

『It’s all right, no one was testing you Once you pluck and trim a secret flower, it appears naked A prayer that won’t be conveyed twice Ah, the defeat infecting your dark eyes────…………』

He licked away at his hand and lips like a graceful animal, almost showing some kind of twisted sign of humanity left in him. Panting, you were still ledt dizzied as you felt him mount at your entrance. "Red, please..." you muttered out in your stupor. "Red, please what?" After your glowing face blushed, your eyes watering over, he giggled and leaned down into your neck. "Say it. Say you're Red Velvet's dirty little whore and that you want my cock in you." He whispered against the shell of your ear. You grimaced and panted in response before recovering a sharp smack to your thigh. “Say it!” Whimpering, rubbing your legs together, you stutter out… “I… I’m.. Red… R-Red Velvet’s li-little whore a-and I… I-I-I wannnt hic-his cock ins-side of me..” you hiccuped. Chuckling darkly, he kissed your neck in reward. “Good girl, now say..” he prepped, taking in a breath, “I want your baaby Red, I want your baaaby, Red..” he cooed mockingly in your ear with a high piched voice to off brand your own.

A... a baby? You didn't expect that. You both never really brought up the future possibility of children, actually you remembered that Red stated himself that he was against having kids right now given his current predicament. He didn't want to harm them... at least you thought. But why was he making you say that? Maybe he had different intentions behind those words, to make you look even dirtier maybe? To objectify you? No, you couldn't bare the thought... maybe it was a possession type thing. Yeah, that made the most sense here. It was too close to hold hands with his feelings of jealousy, it had to have been that. Nevertheless, wwith doubts spinning around your head, you once again repeated what he said, to his amusement. He let out a sadistic chuckle before sighing in ecstacy, holding onto your hips and guiding you into a mating press. You felt the tip of his cock touch you, teasing your opening, almost begging to be let inside as the tip of his cock felt wet and hot, oozing precum into you. He once again poured his eyes into yours, and pushed into you like a ram opening a door. Full steam ahead kind of vibe.

この罰に従事し、隷属-れいぞく-されてる愛磨り潰した苺の罪-ストロベリィジャム-を、ひと匙塗りたくればもっと、美味しいよ

あの願いを裏切れば産まれる記憶の彼方にある光、消して踏みはずし────………… 踏みはずし────………… 踏みはずし────…………

『Engaging in this punishment, an enslaved love Once the mashed strawberry jam of sin is spread thickly with a single spoon, It’s even more delicious!

Born in betrayal of that wish, The light that exists beyond memory disappears, Doomed to fail────………… Doomed to fail────………… Doomed to fail────…………』

Kissing at your neck with venomous fervor, you felt him slowly pull out of you only to push back in just as hard as his initial entry. You eyes rolled back into your head is it too simultaneously rolled over, the feeling of that twisted painful pleasure once again clouded your brain in waves, cancelling out any rational thought you may have had. With your head pressed against the pillow, Red Velvet put a hand at your throat, threatenting to squeeze the warm, tender flesh of your neck. His fingers, painted the cursed peppermint stripes and animal like claws adorning his nails, squeezed gently at your throat and as he thrusted, he watched the blood gather into your cheeks, the blood getting stuck there with nowhere else to flow. The air that you once had was being stomped out of you with his monstrous hand, choking you, putting your air supply on a thread. Yet... the dizzying pleasure this brought was enough to make you hurt. It felt so wrong to let him do you this way yet... at the same time you never felt so right to be so wrong. You moaned through the little air you had, crying out as he squeezed just a bit more... just a bit more pressure there. He smiled through grunts and groans as he pressed against you, your legs pressed against his shoulders firmly. The bed started to gently creak with each foul motion you two made in synchrony.

"R-Re-ed Ve-elve-e-e-etttt...! AaAaAhhh!" You screamed out as he let go of your throat, gaining oxygen in thrushes, making you cough up. He only sped up as you screamed his name, letting it fill his ears like a serenade. Just a bit more...

さあ、亡骸を抱き Ah、甘き死の予感を呼び戻す。。。

あの丘で十字に、磔-はりつけ-られてる愛磨り潰した苺の罪-ストロベリィジャム-を、ひと匙塗りたくればもっと、美味しいよ

この罰に従事し、隷属-れいぞく-されてる愛磨り潰した苺の罪-ストロベリィジャム-を、ひと匙塗りたくればもっと、美味しいよ

赦されずに生きてきた恥らい遺した「傷跡」だけ、確かならば－

『So, embracing a corpse, Ah, recalling premonitions of a sweet death...

Crosswise on that hill, a crucified love Once the mashed strawberry jam of sin is spread thickly with a single spoon, It’s even more delicious!

Engaging in this punishment, an enslaved love Once the mashed strawberry jam of sin is spread thickly with a single spoon, It’s even more delicious!

Such an intolerable shame came to be If only the ‘scars’ left behind are certain-』

That blurry feeling came back. Your surroundings melted away like jelly as your eyes crossed. You didn't even acknowledge the fact that your orgasm had came. A mixture of cum and blood leaked down your inner thigh as Red Velvet continued to pound you abused sex.

接吻-くちづ-けて────…………

『I kiss you...』

The sounds around you meshed together, almost like you were in a cave. Red Velvet continued to pound you in. You thought he said he was going to cum, but you didn't even know. You couldn't even scream anymore. Your body completely gave into his sick, childish desires.

接吻-くちづ-けて────…………

『I kiss you...』

You felt him still with one last gutteral groan, and then afterward you felt a torrent of hot seed flash into you. He sighed and panted, looking into your lust torn eyes. You watched his mouth move, bit it was still all gibberish you couldn't make out. You had to come down, as did he. 接吻-くちづ-けて────…………

『I kiss you...』

His body sunk down onto yours softly with a quiet thud as some parts of his long hair hit his sheets. He started to kiss your neck, your collarbone, your cheeks, he started to kiss you everywhere... and you slowly came back down to see him cuddled up in your arms, a comfortable smile plastered onto his lips as he took in the warmth and the new scent of your breasts. You stroked his hair, with a matching smile... and you drifted off the same way he did, now one...

接吻-くちづ-けて────…………

『I kiss you...』

#infrawrites #infradelivers #infra@212!#cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #cookie run #x reader #crk red velvet #crk red velvet cookie #red velvet cookie #tw smut #crk smut #licorice crk #crk licorice cookie #parfait x licorice #parfait cookie

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factorialsotherfandoms · 4 months

Text

I was asked very nicely for some xcom au fluff by @rabbit-harpist , and am also in need of something soft this morning. Today's angst will be late, for now just... Favela 6, and a holiday in the south of France. During the end of the world, but what's the apocalypse when you have each other?

Also for once, an ao3 link, where it's been spellchecked but is otherwise the same: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52630318

They spend the afternoon in the vineyard, picking grapes and running through the paths. It's a beautiful place, stretching from the old country house down the mountain and to the village in the valley below. It's grown wild over the last ten years - there's still some demand for grapes and juice, but the wine market disappeared along with the ban on alcohol.

Not that that stops their French comrades from producing some, but there are no longer the hands to tend the vineyards and the market in illegal but quality alcohol is slim.

Aypierre's family has owned it for generations, or so Baghera had explained as she showed them around this morning. She's gone down to the village now, spending the weekend with some friends while the Braziliand make use of the old house.

It's been set up like a hotel, specially for the six of them. Forever isn't sure what to make of that, but neither is he sure what to make of his comrades throwing him - and most of his family - out of the door.

Metaphorically, throwing them out of the airship door would probably have killed someone, but out of the door.

And now he's sat on a swinging bench hanging from a large oak tree, watching the late afternoon sun burn lazily in the sky.

Felps sits down next to Forever, leaning his head on his shoulder. On instinct Forever shifts, slipping an arm behind him.

"You good?"

"Oh I'm fine. I just didn't want part of that," Felps points across the vineyard, to where the other four are.

Forever can hear them laughing. He can also just about see them pelting one another with some of the grapes. He's no idea when it started, but as he watches the teams seem to shift - sometimes Pac and Mike vs Bagi and Cellbit, sometimes Pac and Bagi against Mike and Cellbit.

Or perhaps it's actually a free for all.

They were told to do what they liked with the grapes, but it still seems like a waste.

Or perhaps…

Forever leans over to Felps, conspiracy in his tone. "How about we turn the sprinklers on?"

"The grapes are looking a bit dry," Felps nods sagely. And then, a hint of worry comes into his voice. "I'm not sure…"

Forever can see the fatigue in his face, and he understands. There's a lot of things that can kill your stamina, and Felps has survived more of them than most.

"You sit here - I'll get it."

Felps grins, and leans back, pretending to sun himself. Forever can see, though, the way his eyes look towards the warring quartet with anticipation.

Unsure where the control system for the sprinklers is, Forever heads towards the outside tap. Above it is pinned a laminated set of instructions. They're all in French, a language he knows only the basics of, but the diagrams are simple enough.

And Baghera must know them too well, because the lights indicate that all he needs to do is turn the tap.

He glances over his shoulder, waiting for the opportune moment.

Mike ducks behind a grapevine for cover, placing himself directly next to one of the sprinklers.

Perfect.

Forever twists the tap, and waits for the shrieking to start.

The quartet are quickly soaked through, and even over their yells Forever can hear the much closer Felps laughing. Forever himself begins laughing too, hiding his mouth as he watches Cellbit march over and shove his wet hands across Felps' neck.

They're both still laughing - so are Pac and Mike, having taken it in their strides to remain under the water.

Bagi is marching towards Forever.

"What the fuck!" She yells. "Forever!"

He laughs, "you were getting messy!"

"I'll show you messy!"

There's a grin in her eyes as she lunges for him. Forever ducks out of the way, only to slip slightly in the mud. He catches himself, and turns, only to find Cellbit there. Cellbit grabs his shirt, and pulls him the last little bit into the water as well.

The water is cold, but the air is warm - he grabs Cellbit, and pulls him back under too.

"Well Cellbo!" He laughs. "Seems we're both wet now!"

Cellbit pushes him backwards another few steps, deeper under the spray. Soon enough its a tossle for position, both trying to escape the water but refusing to let the other win.

There is no winning - both of them are only getting more and more wet. Forever uses a free moment to glance around, assessing the situation.

Bagi has taken a place at Felps's side on the bench, squeezing water from her hair as they talk and lets the sun begin drying her.

And then there's Pac and Mike, who have left their sprinkler and are creeping closer. Pac's hands are cupped suspicioisly, and Mike is carrying a bucket.

Forever meets their eyes and thinks. Fuck.

The second thing he thinks is that he's absolutely selling Cellbit out.

He waits for the pair to get a little closer, before throwing himself under the heaviest part of the sprinkler's flow. Cellbit, confused, stumbles, and immediately looks around.

He spots the pair just in time for Pac to release the frog in his hands, the little creature instinctively leaping and landing on Cellbit's chest. Seconds later it's followed by Mike's bucket - mostly water, some pond weed, and another four or five frogs.

Pac and Mike run in different directions, deeper into the vineyard. Cellbit gives chase, and Forever can escape.

He returns to Bagi and Felps, the two cackling with laughter. He pulls off his shirt, leaving it to dry, and accepts a towel for his hair.

It's still hot, and bright despite being after dinner - there's no point in drying himself further when the sun will do it for him.

"Having fun?" Felps asks of him.

"If wet is fun, sure," Forever replies, still squeezing his braid and maybe this is bordering on too much hair.

"You're laughing," Bagi points out - and, its true, Forever still is.

"Maybe I am."

The answer to that is obvious; he leans over the back of the bench, one elbow on each of their shoulders as he watches the others play. It goes on for a while, enjoying laughter and each other, before things go quiet.

Forever immediately stops talking, looking for the others.

Where are they where are they, what's wrong-?

They had gone a little way down the mountain, in ear shot but not sight. Forever…

Bagi gets up, and turns off the sprinklers. Felps grabs at the towels, and looks towards Forever

Forever breathes.

"It's safe here," he says as much for himself as the others. "Antoine warded it. No alarms have gone off. We'd see the ship if they sent an attack force."

It's true, he speaks the words, and calms himself down.

Bagi comes back, but doesn't sit. She stands at Forever's side, alert as they wait.

"Maybe I should-" she eventually begins, before the trio appears from between some of the vines.

A quick glance over shows nobody obviosuly hurt, though Pac is especially muddy and Mike being piggybacked by him.

"All good?" Forever asks, checking them over again.

"Mike's tired," Pac keeps his voice quiet. "He kinda crashed when he saw how much mountain there was to climb up. Dumbass forgot about that."

"In my defence," Mike's voice does sound tired, drifting a bit even as he defends himself. "You're the idiot who slipped and dragged us further down the hill."

"You're the one who said leave the heavy duty prosethetic with Tubbo for maintenance- this one's shit in the mud."

"And? Should have been more careful."

Pac doesn't audibly reply, but Forever's known both of them long enough to recognise the flickers of expression as it continuing.

"I'm getting tired anyway," Felps interrupts the silent argument. "Shall we head inside?"

"I'd like to stay out a bit longer, but you guys go," Cellbit gestures to the other.

Pac and Mike's expressions soften, and they nod in time.

"Are we sharing tonight or no?" Pac asks.

It's a question for the group - Pac and Mike always share. He's asking if they're going to the room Baghera set up for all of them, or making their way to their own.

"Together," Cellbit is quick - very quick - to answer, befors suddenly relaising its not only his choice. "If that's alright with everyone…?"

There's a series of nods and agreements and goodnights before Felps, Pac and Mike head inside, leaving only three.

Cellbit takes an offered towel, and sits on the bench. Bagi joins him. Forever lingers a moment, before sitting with them too.

"Are they definitely okay?" Forever asks, eyes trailing a bit.

"I think Mike's got a headache," Cellbit answers. "They wouldn't say, but Pac kept shushing me."

It makes sense, then, as to why nobody called. In the past a headache was just a headache, but ever since…

There's much worse Mike could have been left with than debilitating migraines, especially when they come and go. He didn't look like it was an especially bad one, at least; when they're on the worse end it's easy to read the pain on his face. The worst ones he cannot even speak without making it worse, and he was well enough to argue.

It's fine, then. Sleep will probably solve the problem just fine, and they are here on orders to rest.

"Pac was limping," Bagi frowns.

Forever didn't notice that.

"On his prosthetic," Cellbit points out. "His leg is fine, I think he was just being honest about the mud disgreeing with it."

"We'll make sure he cleans it in the morning, if he hasn't already."

It's another easy problem to fix - sleep, oil, and and a screwdriver. Would all their problems be solvable so simply.

"And Felps?" Cellbit asks. "He wasn't playing with us."

"He just got tired," Forever replies. "And you know he's never been much for the chaos."

"He loves it," Cellbit replies. "He just doesn't want to get his hands dirty."

And, yeah, that's plenty true.

"And you?" Bagi asks of them. "Not too cold?"

Forever looks at his lack of shirt and Cellbit's soaking being, and laughs.

"It's warm enough," Cellbit replies. "You're not?"

"I'm already dry," and so she is. "I left the water before it started getting dark."

And ir is getting dark now. It's not quite sunset, but the sun has finally made it low.

Cellbit looks at Forever. He stretches out, testing tired muscles and old scars. They're a little annoyed by the activity, but nothing hurts.

"I'm fine," he mouths.

Cellbit looks suspicious, but accepts it.

"Are we staying to watch the sunset?" Cellbir asks instead.

"Why not?" Bagi replies. "It's not going to be long."

"Sure," Forever stays intruding, relaxing onto the cushions and rocking it ever so slightly.

The bench is made to swing, and so it keeps the little rocking for a short while, shifting in the low light.

How long has it been since he watched a sunset? A real one, not just out the window as the Avenger crossed the skies faster than the earth turns. One without smoke, or gunfire, or the ending of a world.

They can breathe here, for however long, and Forever…

Well this place is Aypierre's, and Baghera's, and Antoine's, and Etoiles', not his. If he had a place like this, maybe he'd do as Phikza keeps insisting and take a break more often.

Probably not, but he might - and certainly he'd make the others do it, just…

Home is in each other, yes, but it's true the only place they have is the ship.

They should think about what sort of home they want, start making plans for after the end.

"Do you think we can see the stars here?" Cellbit asks.

"Huh?" Forever is startled from this thoughts.

"The stars," Cellbit looks at him like he has three heads. "Usually there's too much light, but we're pretty far from the cities here."

They don't mention the lack of fire, either - the few times the group travels to more rural areas, it's usually for an already too late rescue mission.

"I can already see one," Bagi points up and, sure enough, a few bright ones are already visible as the sun dips below the horizon.

They stay there for a while, talking as the light fades out. It's a good half an hour before the sun dips below the horizon - Bagi yawns, and Cellbit steers her inside and to bed.

Forever stays. Not long, just a couple more minutes - watching the sky, and thinking. About everything, about nothing, about a beautiful but broken world.

Because it is beautiful, and it is worth saving, no matter the pain, no matter the cost.

---

After those few minutes of reflection, Forever finally gets up. He clears the leftovers from dinner into the fridge, before turning out the lights and heading deeper in.

He doesn't bother locking up - the things they need most be afraid of will break the windows to get to them, and it's better to have the easy escape.

The room Baghera - probably with help from Antoine, though Forever hasn't seen the man recently - prepared for all of them is a couple of floors up. It's a whole, large suite. Forever needs to clean up before he sleeps, but first...

First he wants to check on the three who left earliest, make sure they're okay.

He knows they should be, that there's no actual harm done, but he slips through anyway.

Pac's prosthetic - cleaned - is charging in the corner of the sitting room. The rest of the room looks pretty much the same, but for the cracked open door to the bedroom, and the soft yellow light slipping through.

Forever creaks the door open. He doesn't flick on the lights, just trusts the lamp light to be enough. Pac's crutches - propped up against the side of the bed, so he can get up without sending someone to fetch his leg if he wants to - cast bizarrely shaped shadows across the room.

The curtains are drawn, the room is pleasantly cool compared to the heat of outside, and all three of them are tucked safely into bed; Pac lays on Mike's chest, curled up in a tight ball and clutching at his shirt. Pac's body, anyway - one of Mike's eyes is glowing blue as he reads some battered book. Felps is next to them, pressed against Mike's side and more than half asleep.

Mike, or perhaps Pac, raises a few fingers in a quiet hello. Forever smiles and wakes back, keeping quiet so as not to disturb them.

"Hi Forever," it's Pac's tone in Mike's voice, and maybe Forever should have expected that. Still sleepy, though, even as he puts a finger in the book's spine to save his place. "Where's the others?"

"Just cleaning up; I'm claiming the bath, but just wanted to check on you first."

"We're alright," Pac-Mike folds the book away, curling his hands over both people beside him. "Felps is asleep, Mike's… listening, but not up to much."

"You swapped?"

Pac-inside-Mike gestures at Mike's head, "headache. Let him have my body so he could get to sleep, I'm just waiting for the painkillers to kick in before I join him."

"I won't keep you," Forever promises and... It makes sense, well enough. He makes a note to make sure Mike takes more in the morning, just in case.

"You're better for Mike's eyes than the book in this lighting," Pac reassures, before making a shushing noise Forever doubt is meant for him.

Forever moves over, perching on the edge of the bed. Careful not to get mud anywhere he reaches out, rubbing his thumbs into Mike's temples. He watches tension fade from both interlinked bodies, until Mike's arms move up and tug his down.

And it is Mike who speaks this time, voice even more clouded by sleep, "we're fine - go get clean and join us."

"And who is incharge here?" He asks.

"Nobody," Mike replies, before Pac contradicts him with "Baghera, and she said to get a good night."

Forever laughs, slamming his hand over his mouth as he realises how loud he is. Felps stirs, shifting a little and hand reaching out. Forever takes his hand, squeezing it with a quiet "we're all good" before tucking ir next to one of Pac's. Neither Pac nor Mike move Pac's hand, but Felps latches onto it and drifts back to full asleep all the same.

Felps' hands are warm, warm in a way that means it can't have been too long since he showered. That's good - Felps and Mike have both run cold since their injuries, and their discomfort often obvious. He grabs some extra blankets from a shelf, tucking them around the trio.

Pac and Mike are both laughing in Mike's skin once he's done.

Forever ignores them, grabbing a shirt that looks like it'll fir him for the night.

"You to get some sleep, too - I'll be back soon," he tells them.

He gets a wave, and the green flickering out to leave only blue still reading.

The bathroom is just across the hallway, the showers next to it. He can hear Cellbit and Bagi talking, though the words are drowned out by two showers worth of water. Forever leaves the doors to both the bedroom and the bathroom cracked open, and sees the twins did the same - he's no shame in being seen naked, and quite a lot of fear of being needed.

There's a whole selection of bubbles and oils beside the bathtub. Baghera had said use whatever they wanted so… he picks out a couple, turns on the hot tap, and tosses them in. He's not sure how the vineyard still has hot water, but somehow he does. At the sink he rinses the worst of the dirt from both himself and his clothes, before throwing said clothes in a laundry basket for the morning. There's already some in there - Pac's, Mike's and Felps' if he isn't wrong - and it makes him wonder how many people can fit in the bath.

It's an old, fancy, porcaline thing, taking up the entire bay window and then a little. It's so clearly a bath, and yet it also reminds him of a hot tub. There's a bottle of wine in one of the cupboard - how they get away with this is beyond Forever's guessing - and he decides, fuck it. The pretty crystal wine glasses are ignored, but he does grab the bottle opener and the tub of fancy looking crackers.

He puts those on the side of the bath, and grabs a brush. His braid is undone and his hair brushed through. Wetting the brush is enough to get the dust out and its doesnt need soap yet, so he just ties it into a bun once he's done.

By that point, the bath is full. He slips into the warm water, back to the door, and gazes out the windows. This high up there's no need for the blinds - he instead grabs his wine, drinking it from the bottle as he watches the stars. There's a couple of other drinks he thinks he'd prefer, but it's a French vineyard, so they can be forgiven.

There's still the low twilight, the sky still slightly coloured even as the start shine out. Somewhere up there, out there… somewhere in the sky Philza and Bad are taking care of things for him, and all he has to do is soak in the water, drink wine, and gaze at the stars.

It feels almost wrong, and certainly decedent.

Forever drinks the wine anyway - straight from the bottle - and slips further into the water. Pain he didn't even know he had starts slipping away, tension melting from his bones into the pool of warmth and oil.

He can hear the others - Pac-in-Mike talking to Cellbit and Bagi, before conversation turns quiet and he hears snoring instead.

By the time he finishes the bottle, Forever may as well be mush. The water is just starting to grow unpleasantly cold. Rather than add more warm water, he pulls himself out, and keaves the bath to drain. The tiled floor is cold, but his towel is warm - and night shirt, trapped between said tower and the radiator, warmer still.

He leaves his hair up, and makes his way back. The painkilers must have worked, because both Pac and Mike are now asleep, clinging to Felps and to one another. Cellbit and Bagi have taken the other side of Felps, Cellbit holding the man while Bagi pressed her back against his.

There's only a little space left, like this. Forever tucks himself under the blankets by Tazercraft, turning out the lights as he does.

Cellbit stirs at the change.

"Just me," Forever whispers. "Go back to sleep."

His response is unintelligible. Forever sees Cellbit bury his face into the pillow, and decides to leave it be.

Honestly? The pillows seem like a good option.

Forever worms his arm between Pac and Mike to reach Felps, twisted so he can hug Mike and hold Felps' hand. Once upon a time he, the weakest, went in the middle of the heap. Now its Felps, who since his torture cannot stay warm overnight, and Mike, simply because he vanished for months and no matter what injuries the rest have taken it's terrifying that Mike was taken. Like this, Felps stays warm. Like this, nobody can get at Mike and steal him away again. Like this, they're together and as safe as they can be.

Forever is now at the edge of the pile, and he's pleased to be trusted, but he hates why it changed.

He shifts closer to Pac and Mike, despite knowing during the night he's going to end up either rolled onto by Pac or dragged into their tangle during the night. But, to be entangled is to be loved, and what are they to one another but love?

Forever doesn't have an answer to that. So he takes love as love, and holds what family he can reach, and knows the rest are just a flip of the lightswitch away.

[End Notes - Antoine and Baghera spent a few days running around settjng things up as a holiday resort. They do not normally keep bottles of wine in the bathroom

- Pac, Mike, and Felps did share the bath, but in a "they needed to get clean and two of the three were too drained for a shower and the third didnt trust them to not drown so got in too and helped everyone with their hair" way.]

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp x xcom #qsmp au #qsmp forever #qsmp cellbit #qsmp bagi #qsmp tazercraft #qsmp felps #qsmp favela six #fluff #this is just something soft and nice

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 1 year

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Hi Muffin, I have read your fanfics and think you are a great writer. I was wondering if you had any tips for improving your prose?

Well thank you, I'm glad you like my stuff.

I suppose here's what I've got for you off the top of my head.

Read Great Literature

To learn great prose, the first and easiest thing you can do is look to the best.

Young Adult is not allowed. No, seriously, it's verboten. I can list two, maybe, young adult books that have what I'd consider to be good prose and it's none of the ones people gravitate to on tumblr.

You're going to have to read the classics.

Now, who you pick is up to you, lots of great authors have very different styles and none of them are wrong. Steinbeck, for example, very purposefully writes the way he does and it works brilliantly.

I'm going to suggest two: Kafka and Nabokov. If you can stomach the material, Nabokov has the best prose, hands down, I've ever seen from an author. There are other great authors out there, but what Nabokov does with imagery, with wittiness and puns, with everything is unparalleled. Read any book by Nabokov. Kafka too, has great, surreal, imagery and particularly does extremely well things that shouldn't be natural to describe. He expertly writes scenes where he has to explain what's happening because it would not be intuitive otherwise.

Do a first pass if you're unfamiliar with the work to get the reading the story part out of the way and then go back and try to see what you thought worked, didn't work, and most importantly why it worked.

Why was X section good at a) conveying to you the reader what was happening b) sticking in your brain. Read enough and you'll start to get an idea of what you really like in prose.

Read Shitty Literature

On the other end, once you've read really good things, go and read really really bad things. Yes, I'm serious, because this is where you're going to see people who thought they knew what they were doing fall flat on their face.

Everyone makes fun of My Immortal for going above and beyond describing Ebony's outfits. What they don't mention is that half these people making fun of My Immortal make the same mistake and describe, in excruciating detail, every article of clothing their beautiful character is wearing.

Here you will see what you do not like and, again, ask yourself why it's so bad. What is it about it that just doesn't work.

This will inform you what not to do and, most importantly, that there's no hard and fast rules. I see people claim that there are "never do X", "only do X if you do Y", but I have also seen all of these rules broken masterfully in real literature and clutching to them too tightly results in prose that obviously came from this kind of draconian logic.

Find a Beta Whose Style You Like

Sit down and write something, it may not be good, but that's not important right now. Right something you really want to write, feel passionate about it, then go out and find a beta.

Specifically, find someone whose writing you want to emulate. Not just because they're popular, but because you specifically like the way they write.

Often, I see people with betas who either a) have never written themselves b) have not written much or c) they have betas whose style they don't actually like much. Betas here are great, but their limit is really spellchecking and grammar as well as general sounding board for ideas, they won't be able to help you sound the way you wish to.

With the right beta, they can help walk you through which paragraphs should be rewritten and why, and eventually you'll get an instinctive feel for where more imagery should go, less, what should be expanded on, what shouldn't, etc.

Hope this all helps.

#ask #anon #writing #writing advice #praise

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tollingreminiscentbells · 4 months

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Not to use cliche internet phrasing, but I was today years old when I learned that some people use Grammarly for their fics. Maybe it's because Back In My Day those kind of tools didn't exist, but it had genuinely never occurred to me that people use things like that for fanfiction. No shame! I just feel super out of date not knowing that was a thing.

That being said, I write in Pages with everything but spellcheck turned off, format my documents like trade manuscripts, and have no interest in beta readers, so I might be a statistical outlier.

On the beta reader thing, in my life I have sat in meetings and had people itemize everything they hated about something I'd worked on to my face. The words "there's no market for this" have been said to me more than once. Fandom is the epitome of "me time". I'm doing this alone and cherishing every second of it.

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paradoxcase · 7 months

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Chapter 38, 39, and the Epiparodos of Harrow the Ninth

Something that hasn't been made entirely clear to me about John's airless room: Mercy thought that Harrow wouldn't be able to survive in the airless room, but I remember John telling her that she didn't need to breathe way back when they were on the shuttle, and in the last chapter John is still offering to let her stay in his airless room with him when the Heralds come, so I'm a bit confused about whether or not this is actually a viable option for her, and if it is viable, why she isn't considering it at this point when she starts to believe she will really die

I'm blanking on an episode where Harrow hid under her bed waiting for Gideon the First. When was that?

This Cytherea episode sort of brings into question all of the other Cytherea episodes, and maybe she did hallucinate some or all of them. But Cytherea's body did disappear, and someone put Gideon the First in the incinerator, and there isn't really any good answer for who else that might have been

Does he mean that he failed her by failing to kill her all this time, or is he talking about something else?

And I also don't have any idea whose idea this could have been. I think everyone else on the Mithraeum has stepped in to save her from him at least once, Augustine and Mercy and Ianthe even helped her try to kill him once, it seems like if any of them had wanted to mercy-kill her they would have had ample opportunities to just let her die

I wonder if this is just because she is used to having experiences that she knows aren't real and is used to managing her reactions to them, or if it's at least partly because she's not quite a regular Lyctor anymore, so the Heralds have less of an effect on her?

The Epiparodos (apparently: the second appearance of the Greek Chorus) is interesting for being Ianthe POV, but I don't think it tells me anything I don't already know, except for maybe that Ianthe thinks about art a lot, which might explain why she likes Cyrus's nude paintings. We don't find out what she did, exactly, or what's in any of the unopened letters. It is impressive that Harrow did brain surgery on herself and maybe manually rewrote a bunch of her memories, and it seems to have worked out exactly the way she wanted it to, from what I can tell, I think her plans were only foiled by the existence of the Heralds

So, can you undo a blood ward by using the person's blood somehow? She's been using blood wards to protect herself from Gideon the First for a while now, if he could undo her wards using her blood, I think he probably had a decent opportunity to get some of her blood to do that, didn't he? Or does Harrow think a blood ward won't work for some other reason?

I just want to point out that I think this is the second time someone was entranced by Harrow's philtrum, this also happened in Gideon the Ninth and maybe it's just me but it seems like such an odd body part to wax lyrical about. Also my browser's spellchecker doesn't even know it's a real word

I'm not sure what she's referring to, here. To the issues she has with Naberius not dying willingly? That seems like the opposite of Harrow's problem. Is it about her losing her arm? Or leaving her sister behind?

She just meant that it was their duty to serve John now, right? I don't think there's any way she could have known about the resurrection beasts yet, especially since her plan specifically involved not dying

Ok, I guess I did learn one new thing: the secret to why Harrow's hair grew out so fast

You know, I thought all of their weird tension was mostly because of the kiss at the beginning of the book, but she is already thinking this (and already gazing lovingly at Harrow's philtrum) before that ever happens

I have no idea what this might be about. I think this might actually be the first time the word "queen" has ever even appeared in this story (and I don't think "king" has either, outside of "the King Undying"), the heads of the Houses don't ever seem to be referred to as kings or queens. We do have a duchess and a baron and princes and princesses, but since one of John's titles is "the King Undying" I would have assumed that other people being accorded the rank of king or queen would be considered sacriligious

Ok, something I saw, when I went back to the Dramatis Personae of Gideon the Ninth to find out how many European nobility terms that book used:

House of the Sewn Tongue? As in, the tongue-and-jaw necromancy Harrow did to Ianthe to prevent her from telling everyone about her brain surgery? That's important enough to the Ninth House to be one of the names that's commonly used for it?

Ok, I remembered that I have text search on the Nook app, so I went through and searched all of Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth for the word "queen" and all I found was

Gideon calling Harrow her "crepuscular queen" and so forth

Cytherea talking about being in "the queenhood of her power" (or not), which interestingly is quoted back later as "the queendom of my power" instead

Ianthe and Corona being described as "queenly" or "like a queen" a couple of times

And after that, the next appearance of "queen" is this appearance in Harrow the Ninth. So it's never been used remotely as an actual title before

#the locked tomb #harrow the ninth

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emeritusemeritus · 7 months

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Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley twins x reader]

Part 3

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship}

Timeline: DH1- set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

With a loud clack you were gone and appeared only moments later in a small, deserted park, surrounded by metal railings and vacant benches, knowing you had to be safe and not go straight to your destination. You set off on your little walk and in no time at all you were facing Grimmauld Place. With a flourish of you wand and a wordless charm, the building began to rumble and pull back, sliding out between the next door residences that were totally black in the dead of night until number 12 was clearly visible.

"Homenum revelio," you cast as you walked through the door, looking down at the slightly illuminated hallway, the dark walls and grotesquely gothic architecture making you feel a little more than uneasy but you couldn't allow yourself to be frightened now. Nothing happened from your spell and you realised you were entirely alone in the property, an sigh of relief falling from your lips at the revelation.

"Lumos," you said quietly as you walked deeper into the safe house, illuminated wand guiding your way, walking directly up the creaking staircase towards the third room on the right, the bedroom you'd been sharing with Fred and George only a year ago. You prayed it was still here.

You didn't divert from your path and immediately crouched down towards the small round rug in the centre of the room as you entered your old bedroom and peeled back the rug to check the floorboards beneath it. Knocking three times, then two, and saying a muffled 'revelio', you watched as the floorboard popped up out of its socket just as it had been enchanted to do. You pulled the floorboard away and smirked to yourself as you saw the very thing you'd hidden all that time ago, still in perfect condition. The marauders map.

During your last year at Hogwarts, Harry had spent an agonising amount of time following Draco on the map, so much so that it was becoming detrimental to his school work, his sleep and his life. You and Hermione had both decided to remove the map from his possession, knowing the risks that the map held if it were to get into the wrong hands and so you'd each vowed to hide the map with only the pair of you knowing it's hiding place.

Pulling the map from its confines, you uttered the words you'd heard Fred and George say so many times before and right in front of your eyes the words appeared, brown ink bleeding onto the page.

I solemnly swear I am up to no good.

It took mere seconds for you to locate exactly what you were looking for, spotting the singular name on the map exactly where you'd predicted it to be. The climax of your plan could now take place.

You realised that this whole step of the plan could have been avoided but you wanted to make sure that the figure you followed on the map was exactly where you'd planned them to be, no doubt slipping into your determination.

"Mischief managed," you uttered, tapping it once with your wand and the writing began to fade away, leaving the parchment bare once again. You quickly stuffed it into the hole and replaced the floorboard, uttering the enchantment you'd placed upon it and exited the house completely. As you left, the creaking of the metal and rumble of the bricks faded into the background as the house fought to conceal itself once again.

You walked quickly back to the park and with a quick glance around to determine no one was around, you disapparated straight to your next destination.

Hogsmeade was notoriously cold early in the morning, in fact you'd called it the coldest place in the U.K. numerous times over the years and as your feet landed on the dewy ground, you had to hold back a shiver. Your stomach lurched as you landed, the multiple apparitions and disapparitions taking their toll on your body but you pressed on, wanting to get this over with.

You'd apparated just outside the border of the anti-disapparation jinx that was placed upon Hogwarts and the surrounding grounds, knowing the range of the jinx from a side along apparition you'd undertaken with Snape two years ago to collect ingredients for his personal store.

You trudged around a deserted Hogsmeade in the darkness using only your memory to guide you and appeared around the back of the only illuminated shop in the entire village; Honeydukes.

They were notorious for baking their homemade treats overnight, prepared fresh for the morning trade the next day. Fred had told you a while back that all their deliveries were made in the early morning as to have everything on hand for the busy morning rush; something he'd seen firsthand when him and George had been to visit a vacant unit in Hogsmeade after store close back when they considered expanding before putting that plan on hold. All it would take was a carefully timed entry through the small cellar door and you'd be on your way to your last destination. As you crouched in the darkness, concealed by the shadows of the nearby shops, you mentally wished that you'd managed to acquire Harry's invisibility cloak for your mission but there was no going back now.

As one worker excited the back door, leaving it swung right open, you ran in and rounded the corner, running straight down the back stairs that lead to the cellar, a route you'd taken many times with your boyfriends in your school years. With a quick look around, you lifted the slab and slipped into the passageway, carefully replacing the stone slab behind you. You breathed out a large breath and cast a light spell so that you could see, quickly making your way through the hidden passage that led to Hogwarts.

It was freezing and damp in the passageway and you briefly pined for the company of your boyfriends as you walked the long distance towards the castle. You took the time to consider how you were going to do this but quickly put it out of your mind, realising that your anger was your greatest weapon in this instance.

You finally appeared at the alcove behind the one eyed witch statue and expertly made your way around it like you had many times before, finding yourself in the deserted great staircase. Only once you'd breached the castle did the overwhelming sense of danger register with you. If Snape had turned in his allegiance, you could be in serious danger, coming face to face with a death eater, the same one that you knew had cursed your boyfriend so severely. The very thought of George lay there covered in his own blood and looking so gravely ill made the adrenaline inside you surge and suddenly you didn't feel fear anymore.

You marched directly over to the headmaster's tower, reaching the concealed gargoyle staircase that led to Dumbledore's office, or rather Snape's office now.

"Sherbet lemon," you said, expecting the staircase to appear but the Gargoyle you had seemed to disrupt from slumber suddenly cursed you out for getting it wrong. You hadn't considered that Snape would change the password, though of course it made sense.

"But, Dumbledore," you began to argue until falling silent only a moment later as the staircase opened up and slowly unfurled, making you momentarily frown in confusion.

Taking a deep breath, you ascended the moving stone staircase until you were met with the closed door to the office. You considered knocking, but thought better of it and burst through the doors, directly facing the man who had betrayed your trust.

He was sat at his desk, eyes wide open as he looks upon the indignant intrusion, first with a glare of complete outrage before it transformed into confusion and from what you could see, guilt, as he realised it was you that had stormed into his office.

It was the first time you'd seen him since the news that he had killed Dumbledore that night on the astronomy tower had spread around members of the order, though it was not known to the general public. Years of bonding and working closely together, of building something that could be described as friendship now felt fragmented and broken as you stepped into the office, your anger consuming you at his attack on George.

"Y/n," he says, rising from his seat, casting aside the book he'd been reading on the desk without thought.

"Save it," you spat out, your fury building within you as you slammed the door behind you closed with a resounding bang. You looked at him in pure disgust, with such hatred in your eyes that you could almost see his shoulders sagging under the force of your gaze. Clearly he had not expected you, nor had he expected to be on the receiving end of your fury.

"How could you?" You said, already raising your voice as the emotion overwhelms you, the memories from the formative years of you working hard under his initial harsh scrutiny, the slightly odd but important bond you'd formed, your important role working as his assistant and the time you'd shared together. "I trusted you!"

"Then you are a fool," he says quickly with a cold, dismissive tone, averting his gaze from you.

"Don't play that with me, you should know it doesn't work headmaster," you retort warningly, the last word dripping from your mouth with loaded sarcastic aggression.

You'd been used to his cold and harsh exterior, had seen it weaponised and utilised for his benefit many times before but you knew the real Snape, the intelligent and warm man underneath.

He turns and casts a few spells with a flourish of his wand that leads you to believe they are strong silencing charms as a translucent barrier forms around the room, as if keeping your conversation isolated.

"I had to watch the man I love be carried in, completely limp and haemorrhaging blood knowing there it was you that cursed him. He could have died Severus!"

"You have no proof it was me-" he begins to say, still keeping his hardened resolve, deflecting your accusations but it only infuriates you more, tears beginning to well in your eyes as the emotions overcome you completely as you interrupt his pathetic denial.

"No? I was there that night with you and Draco, remember?" You say hatefully, "I saw how that curse slashed Draco apart, the very same curse Harry found in your own copy of advanced potion making,

Sectumsempra."

For the first time since entering his office, Snape turned to look at you in shock, realising now that you knew all along. "You really believe the person that has worked with you closely and tirelessly over the years would fail to recognise your handwriting?"

He falls silent as he takes in your words, which prompts you to continue your verbal assassination.

"I saw the very same slash marks on George's head, I knew that curse could only have come from you. Funny how you knew exactly what incantation to use to heal the marks when it was an entirely unheard of curse! Do I mean that little to you that you'd go so far as to curse the ear off the man I love?! I thought we were... friends." A singular tear fell from your eye as the anguish inside you disappeared, leaving only sadness and betrayal.

He remains silent for a moment and you prepare yourself to walk out, realising this was a pointless and fruitless endeavour. Just as you turn to walk away, his quiet voice cuts through the silent, tension filled room, pausing your movement. It appears that your words and willingness to leave had broken his resolve, the truth finally coming out.

"It was never meant for George," he says quietly, not meeting your eyes. "There's so much of this you do not and cannot know but you must understand it was never my intention to hurt him, it was a miscalculation in logistics. I saw a masked one aim at Lupin and Weasley and I retaliated in kind, but it all moved so fast, the curse bounded towards him and I was powerless to stop it."

He turns to you then, looking directly into your eyes with a sadness that seemed to reach his soul.

"And to answer your question, your friendship means everything to me, you mean very much to me."

"Severus," you breath out, listening to his explanation and finding yourself believing him, though you tried to resist.

"You've always overlooked my predisposition for life's negativity, shown me kindness that no one else has in a very long time, like a beacon of goodness in what seems a lifetime of darkness and solitude. I value our friendship a great deal."

He looks up at you once again, focusing his complete attention on you.

"I'm sorry that George was hurt, it was very much never my intention. How is he?"

"Alive," you say, feeling suddenly exhausted by the journey and your emotions as you perch yourself on the edge of the chair. He nods solemnly just once, eyes lingering over you as an awkward silence falls between you both. There's so much that isn't said between you, of friendship and war and questions of loyalty, but all of those go unsaid.

"You're no longer on our side are you?" You said quietly after a moment, slowly looking up into his emotion filled eyes as you keep your tone neutral and unaccusing. You'd surmised as much, though you were loathe to actually believe it even after the events of the previous day which you assumed could only have been down to him. He had leaked the information to Voldemort, you were now sure if it. Mundungus might have had questionable morals but he wasn't brave enough to supply the death eaters with information, he'd have been too cowardly, which only left the one order member that wasn't present or assisting with the removal of Harry.

He blinks slowly and you can almost physically see him deflate as he looks into your eyes with a piercing intensity, not wanting to answer your question.

"I should go," you say, looking at the patterns in the stone floor. You don't hear a reply but you can envision him nodding in reply and so you move to stand, straightening out your jacket.

"Use the floo, Hogsmeade is no longer safe if not accompanied," he says, gesturing vaguely towards the fireplace in the corner. With a wave of his hand, the fireplace immediately ignites into green tinted flames, ready for your exit.

"Y/n," Severus says, stepping closer to you with uncharacteristic hesitation before you can step into the fire. He looks plagued, like he wants to say so much but can't for whatever reason.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, I hope one day you will understand and find it in yourself to forgive me."

You're briefly taken aback by his words, finally realising that from this point onwards you would no longer have the relationship you had always had, you'd be natural enemies on either side of a budding war. His words felt like a final goodbye and you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent tears from forming in your eyes once again.

"I hope you can forgive yourself, and I don't just mean for George. I hope one day you realise that you're a good man and finally see yourself the same way I have always seen you. Goodbye Severus."

Your eyes remain locked on each other for a few moments, sad eyes meeting as you part ways, both physically and emotionally. You take a handful of floo powder and with one last look at your now ex-friend, you speak loudly and clearly into the fire, 'Diagonal Alley' before the fire consumed you and you're transported to the Leaky Cauldron, just as you had envisioned in your mind, knowing their fireplace would be one of the few open for all use even at this time of night, or rather early morning. You exit the deserted Inn and exited onto the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, walking absently until you were directly outside your boyfriends' shop.

You wheezed and caught your breath as you stood looking up at the shop, guilt niggling at you as you thought of how you couldn't go straight to the Burrow, sensing that it would give Snape the advantage of knowledge that you could no longer entrust him with, if he hadn't known already.

You walked to the door of the shop and cast the charm to unlock the door, the specific spell that Fred had created that was specific to this lock and acted as an anti-unlocking charm that couldn't be penetrated by alohamora or even the more creative unlocking spells. Once inside, you pointed your wand at the lock and cast the charm to lock the door before closing your eyes and with tired determination, you climbed the stairs until you reached the flat you lived in upstairs with Fred and George.

Fred had cast a anti-apparition jinx in the shop and the surrounding areas that they owned as a precaution and right at this moment you were mentally cursing his efforts, feeling exhausted, though apparating your current state would be incredibly dangerous anyway, the tiredness in your body and mind would most likely have gotten you splinched.

You entered your flat and immediately grabbed a glass of water, taking a seat at the kitchen table, feeling suddenly very alone without the usual company of one or both of your loves, the flat seeming empty and without life. You needed to get back before sunrise and you maybe only had an hour before the sun would begin to peak over the lowest points on the horizon so you quickly went into the bathroom to relieve yourself and wash your face, changing your clothes on the way back through.

In your note to the twins, you'd lied and stated that you needed something from home and would be nipping back to get it so you moved a couple of things around on the coffee table and kitchen, as if you'd been searching for something before walking to the bedroom you all shared and pulled out your jewellery box, reaching for the locket they had bought you on your 17th birthday. Inside was a picture of each of them, Fred on the left and George on the right you'd taken at the Yule ball all those years ago.

You'd realised during the wait for the order to return that you'd forgotten to pack it and you knew the twins wouldn't question you going back for it, knowing how sentimental you were about this particular piece, making it the perfect rouse.

Stepping towards the fire, you yawned and cast one last spell to connect the floo, seeing green flames once again rising. You thought about Severus and felt a pang of sadness hit you but you carried on regardless, feeling more than ready to crawl into bed with your boyfriends again.

Hagrid, still sleeping soundly on the floor, no doubt knocked out by his firewhiskey intake, didn't even flinch as the flames surged in the fireplace as you returned to the Burrow, feeling exhausted. Your confrontation with Snape had been tiresome but cathartic and though there was so much that went unsaid, you were pleased overall with how things had gone. You were exhausted in both body and mind but somehow you didn't feel tired, at least not tired enough to sleep. You considered making a cup of tea but with another look at a snoring Hagrid, you decided it was best not to.

You trudged up the staircase, mindfully stepping in a perfected sequence that avoided all the creaking steps and noisy floorboards until you reached the door to your boyfriends' room. You gently twisted the door handle and crept inside the mostly dark room, the essence of first light creeping in over the hills.

Immediately, you felt yourself engulfed into a large figure and had to hold back a scream at the sudden movement, realising only when the voice whisper yelled at you that it was Fred.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" He asks in a harsh whisper and you freeze, realising with one single glance at his face that you'd never seen him look so worried before.

"Had to get my necklace," you said, your gut dropping as you lied to the man you loved, feeling more than uneasy about it. To solidify your lie, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your locket to show him. He visibly took a deep breath and pulled you deep into his chest.

"Next time let me go with you, I was so worried," he says, holding you tightly in his arms. You simply nodded and allowed yourself to melt into his embrace. "He woke up, asked for you."

Suddenly your guilt felt immeasurable, not being here for your other love. "Said you'd nipped to help mum, didn't want him worrying too."

"I'm sorry Freddie," you said with full honesty, feeling ashamed.

"You're back now," he says, stroking your back, keeping you pressed into him. "You must be tired."

"Not really," you admitted. Exhausted and weary yes but you could sleep if you were paid to.

"Want to go to our spot? He'll be knocked out for a few hours now, mum topped him up with some sleeping potion," he says, gesturing towards George who is evidentially deep asleep, mouth hanging wide open and breathing deeply and steadily from what you can see over Fred's wide shoulders.

"Lead the way Weasley," you say with a smile and he steps out of the room towards the top of the staircase and with two perfectly synchronised cracks, you apparate to the spot in the forest behind the burrow you'd claimed as your own years ago.

He took your hand as soon as you'd landed and lead you further into the clearing, stopping only briefly to help you over the little wooden stump and logs that created a barrier around your spot. You each sit around the fire that Fred starts with a flourish of his wand, sitting on the larger logs around it.

"I want to feel normal again," he says quietly a little later on as you sit in silence, Fred's wand enchanting some of flames to idly play with them as you watched the sun very slowly begin to creep higher in the sky, though it was hidden by the vast number of trees around you, keeping you mostly in the dark. You turn to him with concern, seeing his eyes blankly staring at the fire, his face expressionless.

"Seeing George like that, then waking up without you there, I've never felt so lost in my life," he says.

"Freddie," you begin to apologise, feeling overwhelmed by guilt again until he shakes his head.

"I'm just so used to always having one of you there, if not both. It's never been just me, always been 'the twins' or Gred and Forge and then you came along and we became a three. For the first time tonight I had a glimpse of being alone, completely alone without you both and it was unbearable."

"You're not alone, me and George will always be there," you say, shuffling closer to him to take his hand.

"We don't know what will happen, if something happens in the war and I lose you both," he begins to say.

"Then we'll still always be with you," you say firmly, squeezing his hand to force him to look up at you which he does.

He gazes at you for what seems like forever, as if he's searching your face for something before he leans in and kisses you with surprising intensity. You kiss him back just as feverishly, your body igniting under his touch as his hand creeps up into your hair to hold you to him. His tongue licks into your mouth and massages your own tongue as his other hand begin to wander.

"I need to feel you," he says breathlessly and desperately against your lips, never quite pulling away from you, "please sweetheart, let me feel you here with me."

"Freddie, yes," you say in reply, just as breathless as he. You sense a primal need in his desperate plea and can't deny him, nor did you want to. Much to how open you had both been during your shower earlier, you couldn't help but feel the pure connection between the two of you, the desperate need for comfort in the way only you could provide.

He blindly reached for his wand, still fixed to your lips and cast a spell against your lips that made a large blanket appear, a spell you recognised him creating a few years back when you'd pulled him right here to this spot for some alone time.

The past 24 hours had been a whirlwind of emotion, loss and pain. When George had been cursed, he became your primary focus and after he was healed, you'd been hell bent on getting answers if not revenge from your ex-friend and mentor, overlooking Fred and the torment you'd endured having to wait for his return, knowing he was in danger too.

You wrapped yourself around eachother, a tangle of passionate, sloppy kisses and wandering hands as you desperately clawed at each others clothes, needing to feel each other's warm skin and beating heart against your own.

Fred ripped off your shirt and wasted no time in lifting your bra up above your breasts so that he could bend down and suck on them, both of you finding comfort in the sensation of his lips sucking at your nipples as he briefly fiddled with the clasp before throwing the garment to one side, never once pausing his assault of your sensitive nipples. You had already tore away his sleep shirt and then pulled at his pyjama bottoms to feel him naked beside you. Your jeans were shimmied off somewhere along the way and your panties were physically ripped from your body at the waistband and thrown into the distance, leaving the both of you completely bare.

"Freddie, need you, don't make me wait," you said breathlessly, pulling away from his ravishing lips, feeling them connect to your neck almost as soon as you'd began talking.

"But," he begins to protest, his hand creeping down between your thighs to test how ready you were for him, not wanting to hurt you.

"I'm ready, fuck please I need you," you begged, opening your legs further as if to beckon him to you. You heard him groan as your words, capturing your nipple between his lips once more as he shifts to move between your legs, his muscular arms bulging either side of your head as he shifts into position, needing to see your face. He kisses you again and you feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into the crease of your groin before he pulls back to adjust himself and take hold of his cock with one hand and slides into you slowly and carefully. You both erupt in moans as you feel him sink into you, not stopping until you were taking nearly every inch of his thickness.

"Fuck, y/n," he groans, slowly pulling out of you before crashing his hips back into yours, making you throw your head back in pure pleasure, feeling his cock stretching you out and filling you in all the right ways. His eyes are clenched tightly shut as his mouth opens on its own accord as he begins to rock back and forth into you, building up to a slow but forceful rhythm.

Your legs wrap around his hips as your hand begin to grab at his wide shoulders, pulling him further into you as he reaches down to kiss you passionately once again. His hips speed up and he finally gives you what you want, both of you moaning once again at the change of angle, feeling him hit the deepest parts of you which makes you gasp and moan out his name.

It's primal and desperate as your bodies meld together, never really pulling apart even as his hips rock in and out of you with pure need. Neither of you can hold back your cries of pleasure, moaning each other's name and verbal curses echoing through the woods as he pounds into you. Suddenly needing something new, you place your hands on his chest and as he pauses his rhythm, you force him into his back and begin to ride him with all the strength you have left over. His big hands immediately lock onto your hips, guiding you and helping with your movements as he looks up at you with adoration in his eyes and mouth agape. His eyes are fixed onto your bouncing breasts and you make no move to conceal yourself as you bounce on his cock, hips bucking wildly and your hair falling over your shoulders. You steady yourself on his thighs as you lean back, giving him the perfect view of your bodies meeting and his cock disappearing in and out of you and he roars with arousal at the sight, hips thrusting upwards to fuck up into you as you both near your end.

Suddenly, his right hand reaches up to cup the back of your neck and he forcefully pulls you down onto him to kiss you again, sloppy kisses and teasing tongues as you lay chest to chest, his hips pounding into now. His other hand grins your hip and he lets out a loud groan against your lips as you feel him cumming. You're powerless to move as he holds you in place, fucking up into you with abandon and the sensation of him overpowering you hurtles you towards your own finish, your walls squeezing his twitching cock as you cum together, feeling his warm seed flood you from the inside.

As your orgasm ebbs away, the tingling sensation fading slowly, the world around you seemed to fade back into your conscious again. You looked down at Fred and saw him lay with his eyes closed, a peaceful look on his face with just the hint of a smirk tugging at the left side of his lips as his hands caressed your skin where he'd been holding you. His eyes slowly fluttered open a moment later and he looked up at you with love in his eyes, a look that you were certain was mirrored in your own.

You lifted your hips gently and his softening cock slipped out of you, both of you groaning in sensitivity at the sensation as you felt some of his load slipping out of you with the movement.

"I needed that," you half chuckled as you bent down and rested your head on his shoulder, legs extending either side of him so that you were essentially lay on top of him, which he was only happy to accommodate.

"Me too princess," he smirks, running his hand over your naked back. "We should get dressed, don't want you getting cold."

You dressed quickly with whatever clothes had survived your mass, frantic scrummage earlier. Fred ended up having to give you his sleep shirt as he'd literally ripped your T-shirt apart and your jeans chafed your bum uncomfortably as your panties were also beyond repair, leaving you without.

The sun had risen almost completely now, noticing as soon as you walked out of the tree line and you had no doubt that Molly would be up soon, delegating chores to every unsuspecting resident and guest. You wanted to be back with George, hopefully before he woke and so you both walked back and crept into the house, walking tiredly towards the twins bedroom where George was still sound asleep.

You took a moment to look at him, smiling and grimacing briefly as you saw the little puddle of drool that had formed on his pillow and the little snores he was omitting.

"I'll tell mum you've been brewing some healing potion all night," Fred says as you slip off your jeans, leaving you in just Freddie's T-shirt as you both slip into the small bed beside George's as Fred tucks the duvet around you both and pulls you into him so that you can cuddle into his chest. "At least you'll get some more sleep."

"Thank you Freddie, love you," you say sleepily, true tiredness hitting you immediately as you snuggled down into the soft covers.

"I love you too princess, so much," he says with a kiss to your head before your eyes close and you cuddle down into him, feeling sleep already taking over you.

#emeritusemeritus #harry potter #emeritusemerituswrites #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #george weasley #george weasley x you #weasley twins x reader #george weasley x reader x fred weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley x reader #weasley twins masterlist

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laylaisthename · 1 year

Text

Implied spoilers for ILW ch16!!!!

Yet another It Lives Within fic based off the idea that Amalia brought mc back from the dead

tw for sorta graphic descriptions of dead bodies? // 2100 words // not proof read cause i got no one for that but i did throw it through the spellcheck // m!MC&Amalia (they love each other but not romantically)

The radio is barely audible over the sound of her Highlander's engine pulling up, bounding down the highway into the beautiful green mountains of Oregon.

Fear made you do quite strange things, Amalia found. Things like contacting one of your best friend's exes to help you track his phone, tracing the signal down to a clearing in the woods near a small town named Westchester.

She and Horus had been talking when in the distance a scream rang out. He'd cut off the call with a quick, "Back soon." But it's been hours and still there has been no word from him, despite her many, many attempts to reach him or his parents, the calls ringing and ringing with no response.

She considered contacting the police, but a gut feeling told her they'd be of little help, probably citing that it was out of their jurisdiction or something to avoid the drive out this late in the afternoon. It had to be her.

The drive wasn't a long one, but nerves made for poor company. She fiddled with the Highlander's radio, still not quite used to all the knobs and buttons. It gets stuck on some old rock station, and a wistful smile plays on her lips as she can already imagine Horus in her passenger seat, belting along to every word on their way back. The bustle of the city thins out the closer she gets.

"It's fine." she says to herself, "He's probably just distracted." Never mind that he was glued to his phone and he always picked up when she called. He'd let it ring a few seconds, much to Amalia's dismay, but he liked her ringtone so much.

It's still light out when she arrives, the long summer days thankfully providing her with a clear sight of the parking lot and the woods beyond. It's mostly empty, save for a cluster of cars of different sizes on the far side, among which she recognized the Asar family's car. The rest of them probably belonged to their extended family. Horus did say that everyone was showing up, much as he tried to get out of it. She parks nearby

It wasn't hard to figure why they picked this area to camp. It was beautiful this far away from everything. Tall pines rose high above, their needles a green blanket over the forest floor, littering the trail. Mountains lined the horizon, and Amalia bet that there had to be some beautiful streams running through the forest.

She opened her phone again, scrolling down her contacts for Horus's number one last time. When it once again rings to voicemail she lets the message roll.

"I'd do a bit here," his recorded voice rings clear, "but everyone that knows me usually texts. So hi stranger."

"Hey stranger," Amalia replies after the tone, keeping her voice light despite the anxiety gnawing at her. "I got worried about you so I'm here outside the campsite. If I find you out there having fun I'm seriously kicking your ass for not picking up. See you soon."

She makes her way to the nearest info board. Only one of the marked campsites is large enough to accommodate his whole family, and Amalia finds it on the map with ease, following the trail markers deeper and deeper into the woods.

It's not always easy to notice the absence of things, and having grown up in a city as she had, Amalia did not know to listen to the absence of bird's song when she drew close to the location. She didn't feel how deathly still everything had gone, nor how strange that actually was.

It's the smell that hits her first. Acrid and metallic, bile rising in her throat when she stumbles upon the first body. It was a man. She thought it was a man at least. It was hard to tell exactly who this was with what was left of the body. Claw marks marr the face, limbs bent in ways that made her nauseous just looking at it.

Amalia had no idea who this was. She wasn't sure if that somehow made it better or worse. Her steps are careful as she moves through the clearing, her eyes wide trying not to look too closely at the carnage around her.

The sun has started to set when she sees it. A shock of bright red hair from the corner of her eyes, almost missed among all the blood. The shell shock of finding so many bodies, so much blood and broken bones, wanes away into pain. She found him. But when she rushes to kneel beside Horus, grabbing his hand in hers, it was already cold, his fingers strangely stiff. She was scared she might break one off if she held it any tighter.

His eyes- just one eye, was left open staring up at her. Empty and unfocused, the brilliant brown glowing golden in the waning sunlight. The other had disappeared, as if something had taken it out, leaving behind only a crevice rimmed by claw marks and blood, streaking down like tears.

He was gone.

She reached out to the gaping wound in his chest. It was as if something had grabbed her hand and moved it for her- no she wasn't imagining the force, the Power guiding her hands. Amalia thought of herself as a rational person. And her mind was shouting at her to stop, to turn back and grieve her loss, this bright fire snuffed out from the world. This was crazy, and dangerous and disgusting as her trembling fingers dug into the hole left in his chest, the last of his warmth already long gone before she arrived here. Symbols traced around his body, drawn in his blood in a hand that should not be as steady as it was.

But grief made you do even stranger things than fear, she learned. Because a feeling in her gut told her that this would bring him back to her.

She rummages around his pockets, pulling out old crumpled receipts and other things, heedless of the bloodstains she was leaving everywhere. Eventually her hands close around a butterfly knife, a tattered old thing he'd bought himself to impress a girl once. She flicks it open, laying the blade against her palm and cuts. She leaves a drop of blood on each of the runes, each glowing a bright cyan in the waning light. With the circle complete she holds her hand over his missing eye, a final offering for a pact made in blood.

"Please…" the word is a quiet prayer on the rising winds, bright light pouring out of his eye socket, illuminating her face as she backs away from the rune circle. Amalia watches on as Horus' body is carried up, light gathering around the worst of his wounds.

She hadn't noticed how dark it had gotten until the winds died down, Horus' eyes fluttering closed as his now mended body is left on the forest floor. Amalia waits with bated breath as the runes slowly dim and fade, rushing forward. It's completely silent, no winds or animals, not even the distant rush of water. And then, more felt than heard, a heartbeat. Slowly his chest rises, up and down, up and down. Mesmerized Amalia watches him sound asleep. Whatever she had done had worked, and as her eyes fell on another body wreathed in red she knew that it wouldn't work a second time.

Annie's dress was stained crimson, her small frame lying only a few feet away from Horus, arms outstretched as if she was reaching for him. The winds had blown her hair back, and Amalia could not stand to look at the terror in her face for more than a glance.

Carefully Amalia walks over, closing Annie's eyes. She wants to say something. A goodbye of sorts, a way to pay her respects. With how much time she spent over at their house, Annie, may as well have been her own sister. But her voice fails her still, and all she manages to say is, "Goodnight."

Behind her Horus starts to cough, his voice strained, "Lia?"

Slowly his hands reach up to his eyes, pressing the heels of his palms down into them. One moves up through his hair, the other down to the ground to prop himself up. "I feel…" he has to stop to take a breath, "like ass. What…?"

And finally he opens his eyes and looks at her. Amalia couldn't help but let out a little gasp, staring into his sudden heterochromic eyes. The restored eye was piercing in its cool cyan color, creating such an odd contrast against the streaking red of his hair and the warm brown that his eyes had been before. And it's as she's staring at him that his eyes drift behind her, filling with a hurt Amalia had never seen in him before, and one she hoped to never see again.

"Annie?" He desperately tries to stand up, but barely makes it a single step before his legs give out under him. His arms scrape over the ground as he tries to heave himself up again, only to fall and crawl along. Amalia didn't know what to do. He reaches Annie's body, leaning over her.

"They're all… gone. I-" another coughing fit overtakes him, dark blood splattering on his hand. Amalia gently rubs his back, carefully pulling Horus away. As much as she wanted to give him the time he needed, he had to be looked at by a doctor.

"Horus, we need to go." but his eyes refuse to meet her.

"I tried, Annie. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I promised you."

Seeing him like this, she wondered if leaving him dead may have been the kinder mercy. But what's done is done.

"Russ, look at me," she grabs his face between her hands, her fingers growing slik from the tears, "I'm going to take you somewhere safe, just keep your eyes on me. Can you do that?"

He shakes his head. "No I need-"

"Please. Just don't look down. Don't look back." She entwines their hands and tugs him along. Thankfully he doesn't struggle against it. She doubts she'd be able to drag him out of here by herself if he resisted, and would rather not have to knock him out.

Thankfully the moon is bright tonight, making it easier to avoid the bodies around the clearing. Still Amalia takes out her phone to use the flashlight, always looking ahead, afraid to look behind her. She wasn't ready to look Horus in the eyes again.

Not a word is exchanged between them the whole way back, but Amalia can hear him sniff every so often. There was so much she wanted to say, but what could she? That she was sorry for his loss? What words could be enough? Not to mention her own complicated feelings. She'd just brought someone back from the dead. She didn't believe magic was real, but what else would you call this? One thing she knew for sure however, he could not know about this, ever. It would change everything between them, and Amalia couldn not allow that to happen. If Horus learned she had brought him back somehow he'd either feel indebted to her or hate her, and she wasn't sure which one was worse.

They make it to the car without issue, and Amalia finds that her hands still tremble as she's helping Horus into the passenger seat, clicking his seat belt into place. She struggles to type the address of the nearest hospital into the gps, but eventually she manages. Not all of Horus' wounds were gone, just the most lethal ones. Plenty of scrapes and a nasty cut on his leg drip blood in her car, but she can't bring herself to care about that. It would probably leave a scar, but it was the mental ones Amalia truly worried about. The pain, the horror, the guilt-

No, she resolved as they approached the hospital, she would not burden him with this as well. He would not be allowed to learn of what happened here. That would be her weight to bear.

#ilw #it lives within #amalia de león #sorry lia that the first time i write you properly is for like #woman pain #anyway teehee #i dont think this theory is true cause theres like no evidence for it but who knows maybe ill catch smth on a replay

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walkawaytall · 1 year

Note

For the fanfic ask game, 🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP...and 🏅What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc)?

Thank you for asking! I'm answering in reverse order because ending with a snippet seems logical to me for some reason?

Honestly, the fact that I finished my first project (Collateral) is something I'm pretty proud of. I started it simply because the first line popped into my head and didn't want to leave, and it ended up being a 51K word multi-chapter Ord Mantell story. I had to take a break with it for I think about a month because one of the chapters gave me a ton of trouble, but I actually ended up liking that chapter and the story overall a lot. Plus, considering the fact that I hadn't written fanfic in like 18 years and hadn't ever written fanfic for Star Wars, it was nice that it got decent feedback from readers.

Also, I finally spelled "Millennium" without triggering spellcheck today, so that's something to be proud of.

On to the snippet, which currently resides in the chapter of Purpose of Heritage I plan to post next week. I'm moderately certain it won't get cut, but you never know what'll happen in editing, so no one hold me to that.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Leia set her jaw and stared at the holochess table. Luke still hadn’t moved. The pieces flickered before disappearing entirely. Leia lifted her head and glared. “You can’t just end a game because you’re losing,” she said.

“I’m ending the game because you’re using it to ignore me.”

Leia stared at Luke, working to maintain a neutral expression. He seemed unwilling to break. “He was going to leave without telling us,” she said. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

Luke shrugged. “‘Course. I yelled at him about it. I kind of get it, though.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You ‘get it’?”

“He’s not used to this sort of…” Luke waved his hands around vaguely. “Being with the same people all the time. He usually just picks up and leaves because no one would miss him.” He paused. “He said you were being really confusing, getting mad and then bringing him cake. I thought maybe you were trying to apologize for something when he mentioned the cake but he said—”

Leia held up a finger in protest. “That wasn’t apology cake; that was anger cake.” Luke scoffed. Leia scowled. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Just, when Han said ‘it seemed like angry cake’, I said that wasn’t a thing. I stand corrected.”

Fanfic ask game

#fanfic ask game #fanfic writer #lajulie24

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hawksismyeverything · 1 year

Text

Alone

Hello! This is an agere fic for DabiHawks! Hawks is an age regressor, around age 1-2, and Dabi is his CG! I'd prefer STRICTLY SFW INTERACTION for this post. Agere is a coping mechanism, and I am an age regressor myself. Thank you!! Post under the cut.

Keigo stared at his phone screen, watching as it dimmed slowly before shutting off. He didn't care. He hadn't really been paying attention. Really, he was just waiting for Dabi to get done with whatever he was doing so he could text him, or be small, or both. He just didn't want to be alone when he inevitably slipped into littlespace. The minutes ticked by like hours, before a notification finally, finally, popped up on his screen.

However, it was from Tomura, not Dabi. It confused Keigo, knowing that if Dabi was out, technically Tomura should be too. The message read; 'Hey, scarface idiot got stuck in a meeting and told me to check on you, so you better not be dead.' Well that was a lovely way to shove him out of headspace, wasn't it? He quickly typed back; 'Yea im alive thx' before hitting send. There was a long silence. Keigo glanced at his phone as if he could manifest a response from Dabi, but he didn't see a text. He blinked, and went back to browsing the internet.

Finally, Dabi sent him a message; 'u ded?' Keigo grinned, but not in the I'm-Looking-At-A-Camera way that he usually did for reporters. He typed back immediately, not even bothering to spellcheck before responding; 'nope! hihi dabi!' He thought that would tip Dabi off as to how close to little Keigo was, but apparently he was too tired to think about it. 'hey birdbrain' Was all Keigo got in return. No babybird? No sweetie? He almost tilted his head before thinking of how dumb he would look. Still, it was better than having Dabi just reply back with his name. He could just picture the breakdown now. Sobbing on the floor, convinced his caregiver would never love him again. Dabi had a tendency of doing that accidentally. 'hii' Keigo typed out slowly, hoping once again that Dabi would get the hint.

He didn't. 'u sed that alredy' Keigo cringed at the fact he wished he could babytalk, but he didn't even know if it was okay that he was small yet. He needed confirmation. 'My bad- yous okay?' Keigo tried, slipping a little s on the end of a word, trying even harder to make himself stay big a little longer. 'yea im fine, u?' Keigo groaned, laying back onto the bed, feeling a lump in his throat. He was holding off headspace, and it was gonna make him cry. Great. His phone pinged, and as he glanced at it with teary eyes, he noticed it was a message from Tomura. 'Hey. You small? Dabi's oblivious. Need someone to talk to? I can tell him if you want. Just sayin.' Keigo laughed, though it sounded more like a choked cry. He still tried to respond in as much of a big boy voice as possible. He knew Dabi would tell Tomura eventually that Keigo was not tiny at all, that he would totally have said something. Not that it was unusual for Keigo to do this.

'No is okay- thx tho Tomu' Keigo typed back, the fuzzy feeling in his brain taking over finally. 'I'm telling Dabi. That's not a problem, right Kei?' Keigo visibly shook his head, as if Tomura could see him. His papa didn't need to know, it wasn't that big of a deal yet. 'You don haveta tell' Was all he managed to type back. 'I'm gonna.' Was the response he got. With a silent thank you, Keigo set his phone on the bedside table and curled up in the middle of the bed. He couldn't convince himself to get up and get a stuffy, or a paci, or literally anything that would make him feel better.

His phone pinged, and Keigo almost wailed. He really didn't want his papa to know he was tiny, because he hadn't even told him. 'Baby?' It was from papa, so clearly Tomura had told Dabi. Keigo should have known; Tomura doesn't make empty threats. 'Hm?' 'You wanna talk to papa?' 'Mhms'

His phone rang, Dabi's face popping up with his name under it. Keigo lit up like a Christmas tree, a grin spreading onto his face, solidifying his headspace pretty quickly once he set the phone down, putting it on speaker. "Hey birdie^^" Dabi's voice, cracky and tired, came across, and Keigo could have melted right there. He loved his papa's voice so much. "Hai papa! What doins?" He chirped in response, rocking back and forth lightly. "Talking to you, silly! How old ya feelin'?" He questioned. Keigo thought about the question for a moment, unsure how to properly answer. He was definitely older than normal, but he was still dropping. Maybe three? Two? Two at least- "Am fee!" He answered after a minute, though he quickly added, "Prolly gon be smawer doe-" He practically heard Dabi's smile. "So you're just my little guy, huh?" 'Mhm! Papa's lil guy!"

Just imagining having his papa next to him to snuggle was enough to send Keigo straight to tears. Dabi obviously noticed, as he quickly asked, "Kei? Babybird, is something wrong?" "Papa no hewe!" Keigo practically wailed. "Do you need me there?" "...nu needs..." Keigo mumbled, tears falling down his cheeks. He didn't need anybody, but he still didn't have his paci, or his blankie or Lottie, his stuffed robin.

"I'll be there soon, bub. Don't worry," Dabi said, in attempt to calm Keigo. It simply made him feel worse, as if he were causing Dabi more hassle than he was worth. "Papa no, don need, issokay!" Keigo whined. He only wanted Dabi to be there, to hold him and play with him and let him forget about being big and hurting and being lonely. "I'm on my way. I love you." "Kei woves chu toos."

Keigo sat in stunned silence, curled up on his bed, slipping farther than he'd like to admit. He was really quite small. One or so. Maybe younger. Every noise made him whimper, every creak or gust of wind sent him farther down. Dabi's footsteps included. "Hey, babybird, breathe- oh jeez- okay, c'mon, sit up for me." "Da!" Keigo shreiked, his arms wrapping around Dabi's midsection. "Small, huh? Maybe one- you call me papa when you're two or above, so- okay-" Dabi muttered, adjusting Keigo's weight. "You need anything before we lay down? "Paci an bankie an Loddy!" Keigo whined, his head falling into the crook of Dabi's neck. "P'ease?" He added softly.

Dabi quickly placed a pacifier in his mouth, Lottie in his arms, and a blanket around them before laying down with him still in his arms. "So small, so itty-bitty, so tiny," Dabi murmured in Keigo's ear. "Daa! No tinies! Am big! Ver' big!" Keigo protested. "But who'll be my baby if you're so big?" Keigo faltered. If he wasn't dada's baby boy, then dada wouldn't have one. Dada needed one! Keigo accepted defeat, laying his head back down. "Okie, am lil," He agreed, ever-reluctantly. He was tired. And he was too young to fall asleep on his own. "Right. You can stay like this as long as you want," Dabi reassured him, picking up on Keigo's train of thought. "Da ver nice," Keigo murmured, letting his eyes fall shut. Dabi sat there in silence, holding Keigo's small body and watching as his breathing evened out, deep breaths that quieted even the loudest ones. It was beautiful, really. Just how Keigo was.

#this is so self indulgent #i live vicariously through him #keigo tamaki #tomura shiragaki #dabi #dabihakws #sfw age regression

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simpingwriter · 1 year

Text

Cal Kestis x Kyra Yarmot

'In the Name of Love' Pt.4 (1/2)

A/N: guess this one got too long oops-

I'm writing this all on Google Docs and unfortunately they got a word limit for Spellcheck. And I got carried away with this chapter, so for the sake of at least some grammatical editing, I had to split this one up to two parts. Maybe even 3ish, depending on how easily I can end the 2nd part of Chapter 4 because a bomb is getting dropped in that part...

I will post the 2nd part either still tonight, if I got enough fuel left, or tomorrow afternoon.

Enjoy (pls and thx :) )

Word Count: approx. 3000

___________________

When you first set foot, or feet, onto the Bardottian Market – well, one of many, to be honest – you felt a totally different atmosphere to the one from yesterday.

Calmer, more civilized…less dirt.

And much less people, or the path was just bigger, letting it appear less packed than the other one.

"Wow, I can't hear a street fight around the next corner of these stalls. The other one…well", in the other one, you wouldn't have just heard the fights happening, chances were high you felt the blood of the one losing splatter onto your face when you choose to be stupid and pass directly by it.

And it was not exactly rare to end up in one yourself either, from totally not personal experience.

You nod in agreement while getting busy with scanning the stalls selling their farms' produce. The meat choices looked like their prices would put a miniature black hole in your wallet. But they also made your mouth water, knowing you couldn't afford them was like plain torture.

"Wait…over there. A Blue Milk Stand." Cal calls out excited – drawing some critiquing looks onto yourselves in turn, all quickly deterred with you snarling at them –, pointing like an overjoyed toddler towards said colorful stand, pulling you after him, giving you not much choice but to stumble after him, him to 100% oblivious to your suddenly heated up face.

The direct hand contact didn't make you blush yesterday…so why now??

"For a minute, I was worried about even finding Blue Milk all the way on Bardotta, since Banthas aren't part of the natural fauna. But I guess they just…shipped…them here??" That would probably be the case…

You weren't really sure either, shrugging once he let go of your now almost clammy hand again, still none the wiser to your very sudden reaction. Why should he, you dragged him through the streets hand in hand yesterday as well and didn't bat an eye at that moment of close contact.

Hell, you almost karking straddled him when you met and didn't react like this on the inside! Probably because of your peaking adrenaline fogging up your thoughts at that time, but who knows.

Holy karking bantha shit, you totally did straddle him...oh makers...

The blush that was on its verge of disappearing again, shot back into your face as your tried to shake the pictures from your head, at least for now.

"Okay, got the milk…can cross that one off at lea-... Kyra, you...okay there?" Instead of waving his hand in front of you – remembering the almost accident today – he simply poked your shoulder, barely getting any resistance back at first. But it did the trick. "Y-yeah? Oh, you already bought the blue milk?" "While you were occupied with daydreaming, yes. Are you really sure you're alright? If you don't feel well, I can finish the list myself, there shouldn't be that many any…ways…oh...oh no..."

He stopped himself as he looked down at the list written on a sheet of paper. You, curious, also took a glance.

It wasn't exactly what you would call small – not in your vocabulary at least –, the list.

Baffled, he clears his throat after a few moments of taking in the small list, "I stand by my words though, if you're not fe-" "I was just preoccupied with my thoughts for a moment, Cal. I'm fine, honestly." You assured him as you slipped the list from his hands to take a better look at it while he carefully put the milk bottles inside the backpack you decided to carry when you went out.

You became more than used to having to carrying heavy gear since you used to carry your entire life of clothes and resources on your back – before Cal found you of course – so this wasn't going to break your back just yet. Dragon People once were supposed to be "working animals", your whole evolutionary line filled with traits to do and carry a lot of work, be it holding out extreme lengths of bloody wars or just farm work.

Sometimes though, you had to question if you have really gotten all these traits. Sure, you could carry a lot of stuff for a long period of time…but you had your limitations on that and they looked awfully human and fragile for your heritage, if you looked at the apparent feats they had accomplished centuries ago...

"Is Cere sure we can find all these things here?" You scan the list over and over, some standing out to be bound to certain planets and their cultures. Mentally, you skipped over those after making sure you wouldn't find them here. It shrunk the list not by a lot though.

"We all wrote stuff on it freely, we never know when and where we get to restock…so I don't think so. We just have to try our luck with most of them."

You now mentally list the things needed on them:

Pack of paper

New Tool harness (Cal)

Chewstim (Cal and Merrin)

1 pack of vacuumized Stimcaf (Cal)

3 packs of vacuumized Coffee

2 packs of Chocolate Cookies (Greez)

Huge amounts of various cooking ingredients (Greez)

Synthmilk (no name)

Gatalentan Tea (Merrin)

Gesha Tea (Cere)

Karlini Tea (Greez)

10 bottles of Water

Pack of Toilet Paper

…

"By the makers, I think we need to go twice, alone because of the water bottles, the backpack isn't even big enough for that…" Cal mutters irritated at the list, shaking his head, some more unkept locks of red falling into his face, "Why didn't they all come with us?" He said quietly to himself, but you caught it just all too well, keeping quiet anyways. If someone whispers, they probably didn't plan for it to be heard. So you play none the wiser…again.

"That's fine with me…but the more important question…who the hell put Synthmilk on there?!?"

Tried it once, puked once. That stuff was the karking worst you had put into your mouth at that point. Sure, later you would have to take that back, finding out what a bowl of Gruel that went bad from standing in the way too humid air of Gelgelar for probably…hours...tasted like. Hadn't gotten out of the refresher for actual hours either.

"Don't know, but I guess we'll just get it? If we even find it. Never had it myself, so you might need to help me with finding it." "It's absolutely not worth the credits…but yeah, let's just buy it. And even if just to find the nasty ass culprit." Walking away from the Blue Milk Stand, Cal laughs at your pure and unfiltered hatred for Synthmilk before taking the list back from your claws, saying it must be oh so very heavy for you. What a jokester.

Jokesters get pushed. The pusher gets pushed back. In the end, you're both dizzy, laughing like idiots as you stumble down the market paths.

You're both just childish, but you could very well look past that for such good company as Cal.

While he had to hide his lightsaber higher up under his Poncho, you were still left without yours, it being another thought doing extra and extra rounds in your head at night. You needed it back. But you didn't even know where that Karker went with it, if he even still had it or if he long sold it. And where the possible seller went or what they did with it.

With your great – absolute bantha shit – luck, it's been taken apart, its pieces and your kyber crystal out on the black market for the highest, most certainly dubious bidder…

"You're missing your lightsaber…" How did he- "You have been staring at mine all morning…I just didn't find the right time to mention it." Oh, yeah…that does make sense.

"Sorry for that… It's just…it was taken from me in a moment of weakness, Cal. Not just that I lost it bothers me…", it kept reminding you of the fact that you lost in that encounter with an enemy. It ate at you, like a damned parasite, you couldn't even keep your lightsaber safe, not even THAT.

How were you supposed to keep those apparent Force Sensitive Children safe if you ever found them? There weren't many adult Jedi left that could teach them the right way…

And just for the sake of…of whatever was left of the old Jedi Order, you should not be one of the people to continue the teachings. You never used to like following these stupid rules too much yourself.

Not to forget, the dead Council would twist in their not-too-nice graves if you would teach them. You were taught partial Dark Side Arts by your late Master, if anything, you would've been a traitor to them if they had ever found out what happened right under their noses.

Squinting at yourself for slowly losing total track of your busy train of thoughts, you sigh out, shaking your head dismissively, "I can't keep hanging myself up on it, I know that myself, you don't need to think that for me…because i know you are.".

You just wished for at least a sliver of a clue to its current location, or even its last…

"I will do anything in my power to help you find it, Kyra..." He promised to you, an almost pained but a certainly strong expression on his freckled face, "Since I'm guessing yours also belonged to someone you once knew." Of course it did, you…you weren't trusted with your own yet at that time, left with a stupid training lightsaber when the attack happened, unable to hurt even a bug with the weak blade the Kathracite in it would create, unlike the actual Kyber Crystals.

Or Bondar Crystals, oh boy. For the, ehem, "shock value" as your master used to joke.

They really weren't fun to get hit with but indeed a shocking experience, to not get sliced to dragon meat dices on immediate impact....

"It belonged to my master…" even more why you needed it back.

Its the last thing you had left of him. The last physical thing. His unusual teachings would never leave your head, his stories of his adventures of crossing the Galaxy before becoming a teacher for Younglings and Padawans like you and his own, very special ways of explaining his points of view always kept close to your heart.

"So just like mine?" The whole time while you went to talk about your lightsabers, you had to remember to tone it down a lot more than usual, your eyes constantly busy making sure nobody in the crowd stood out for being with the Empire. Or even a local was enough right now, this being Bardotta.

During that, you chipped a good portion of the list off, the backpack growing heavier and heavier by each stall you passed. Until Cal unfortunately interrupts your well flowing conversation, seconds after you told an absolutely horrible joke you heard from an old companion of yours, Cal choking at the punchline to a point you had to help him cough his water back up, "Wait- Wait…I think we really should get some of the stuff back to the ship now…" He looked at you and the backpack with an amount of worry you hadn't felt being laid upon you for too long.

It weirdly enough felt really nice, knowing that for once, not everyone thought of you like some unbeatable and inexhaustible creature - even if it was just him. Well okay, with the way he liked to shamelessly admire your nonhuman parts, you couldn't be 100% sure he didn't think you're a creature at least to a certain degree.

"Sure. But no big talky talky breaks with Merrin and the rest, it's going to get dark sooner or later. Bardotta gets cold at night…" you turn on your heels, having kept the way back to the ship somewhat memorized, holding back a laugh as Cal took a moment to realize you actually agreed to his plan instead of arguing, stuck in place, brain buffering like a terrible HoloNet connection, yelling for you to wait for him as he jogs back up to walk next to you. "Well, not that cold though…I'm sure this place looks really nice at night, i mean, look at all the lights around the stalls!"

He was right, there are alot of fairy lights strewn about…

"I don't know…it does sound nice. But, well…" you rub your arm in embarrassment, remembering the undoubtedly incredibly childish teasing back in your not-too-long-ago childhood. Even though you should've grown out of that memory by now. "I get cold real easily…i wouldn't want to ruin this for you with my constant shivering…I'm sure Merrin wouldn't say no to it though! She would be thrilled to see them as well!"

The two of you had nearly left the market as you unexpectedly got stopped by Cal, eyebrows uncharacteristically knitted together as he looked down to you, just a head taller than you, thinking about what to actually say for a minute.

"She definitely would, sure. I definitely could, sure. But I want to get to know you a bit better. Without Greez panicking every two seconds about you devouring him head to toe in his sleep and Merrin interrupting me." He let go of your shoulders, hands falling back down to his sides, something you didn't even register as you were busy staring up into his eyes. The eyes you, without any filter whatsoever, called pretty yesterday before heading to bed.

And you would never take it back. They were pretty, especially in addition to his overall handsome face…wait no!

"Also, please don't worry about feeling cold, if you really got such a bad problem with it. I meant it when I said you could get some of my Ponchos as well, I guarantee you, on BD, there is a warm and cozy one under them!" Immediately BD seemed to almost glare at Cal in disbelief and you didn't know how you discerned that from his usual "expression" but you're sure he was, a small and muted beep that translated to 'Rude' was the only thing he had to say.

As you continued walking, him telling you with passion about all his favorite Ponchos, the one he wanted to show and gift to you specifically, you felt a weird tug at your heart. All the time, you had been so so lonely, the loneliness eating at your live conscious at some nights, you nearly forgot what it was like to have someone actually caring for one and their personal opinions, for their wellbeing even. After a certain event after the purge, you never had spent long enough with people to get to know them, for them to get to know you, neither did it ever matter, all having been short acquaintances solely to get you from Planet A to Planet B. Or C. Or D.

None of them even bothered to ask about you…and with the kind of people you had to travel sometimes, you were very glad about that.

Why was it feeling differently with Cal then?

Because you knew you would stay with them for a while? Because you wanted to stay for a while?

Cal stops at the front of the raised door of the ship, using his comm link to tell Cere that you were back with the first things on the list for now. The door opened quickly, letting both of you back onto the Mantis. After waving a quick 'hey' to Merrin – while also informing her of having found her requested Tea – who was reading a book in the living room, you left the backpack leaning against the couch, hoping at least someone felt inclined to unpack it.

Cal didn't give you lot of time, keeping you to your own words a few minutes ago and already went to usher you back to the quarters in the engine room you shared, teasing you about the fact that you told him to not waste time with talking to the others for too long.

BD, who was until a few minutes ago, surprisingly quiet during the whole trip, hopped off his shoulder to stretch his small legs, a chuckle quick to follow from you, "Since when do Droids need to stretch?"

'Ever since I only get taken to boring missions!' He beeps back irritated before quickly resuming his place back up higher. This time it was your upper back and shoulders as he beeps quickly, 'Quick, take me on an actual adventure, oh pretty pretty Kyra!'

Rummaging through his drawer, Cal scoffs playfully at BD's theatrical request, "You say it like we don't get nearly shot dead on sight on every second planet we decide to set foot on! I would call that pretty adventurous..." He mumbles the last part with fake hurt in his voice.

'Those aren't adventures. Those are eventual death traps…'

From his mention to their danger, your thoughts went to the eventual first real mission for you on the Mantis. Well, would've, weren't it for Cal's thought-puncturing shout, "HA! Found it! This one should be perfect for your little dilemma!"

In his hands he held a nearly white poncho, some grey scale specks over it. The inside looked not just insulated, you were sure you saw some warm fur coating poking out at the folded edges. A cold climate poncho. Clearly not perfect for actual subzero regions…since it was a karking Poncho for crying out loud, but it would be great for cold nights on normal planets.

You wondered where he got it from, your hands naturally going out to grab it from his. A short, yet unexpected brush of his own hands, slightly roughed up and a bit dry from training, sent immediate shivers down your spine and your first "most logical" reaction was to let go of the Poncho in shock, hearing it drop to the ground with a muted thud. For a moment he was about to say something before just smiling at you. "Sorry, thought you had it already, slippery fingers I guess!"

Was the redhead aware of the sudden skin contact and your increasingly stupid behavior today and he just... played it off…or did he really not notice when you pulled your hands off of his like he physically burned you? Which wasn't possible by the way. Dragon People were almost all "fireproof".

You wouldn't make matters worse, nodding at his comment, "Happens sometimes if you got fingers like mine." Wasn't even a total lie, claws were sometimes difficult to do certain things with. And you couldn't even shorten them by a lot, blood vessels starting to run through them at some point. "I think they look…" He stops himself to think, looking at them intently while he crouches down to pick the thick Poncho back up, "I think they look not just cool. They look good on you, they suit you...a dragon without claws would look odd though, wouldn't they?" They definitely would, it was one of your main defense or offense tactics after all.

For your comfort's sake, he seemed to notice that for some reason, he left the conversation subject at that for now, walking back to the main living area with you once more. The backpack was luckily actually empty again, so without much of a break, only to quickly take a sip from the water bottle you took for yourself during breakfast today, like you warned him and he teased you, you once more left the Mantis to go and buy the rest of the list.

And just like you predicted, night came in quickly. Very quickly. Only three hours later, the sun had nearly fully set, only a few of its rays left scattered across the ground as it disappeared behind a distant snowed in mountain.

Now the streets were only illuminated by the Bardottan Moon and street lights. But also by one third important thing, the sole reason you stayed out this long anyways.

Before you even had the chance to start shivering, also like you predicted, Cal took the liberty to take the Poncho from the backpack's strap from its current place on the ground where you put the once again heavy object for a short break. You weren't able to get your question about 'what he was doing exactly' out when he was already carefully placing the poncho over your head, taking note of your wings and horns – trying his absolute hardest to not accidentally brush against the later after your very obvious reaction about them yesterday.

A small sheepish wave when your head popped back out on the other end of the opening woke you from your trance, staring in surprised awe at him, "Hello there, welcome to comfy town." He sang, a bright undoubtedly happy smile on his face, using your moment of needing to mentally hard reboot yourself to reach for the backpack himself this time, a huff leaving his lips.

Back to reality, you're about to protest about him carrying it, when he stops you with his single-gloved hand, telling you it was alright if he carried it now. He was strong as well after all, not like you, but he wouldn't break and fall apart like the plastic brick toys you both apparently got to know after a heated discussion about them this morning. You vaguely remember the name Jego, initial envy playing a big part in those memories. Envy you had to swallow as a Padawan back then. Until you got a set on one of your sparsely celerated birthdays, a gift from the commander of the Clone Troop that served under your Master.

"Come, stop daydreaming for once. I wanna see the lights…we won't get this much time everyday for a while now, so we should enjoy it while it lasts. Or while the rest don't actively collect us to leave again of course." Once again, as if automatic, his bigger hands found yours. It also – once more – sent more shivers down your scaley spine, feeling your wings subtly react to said shiver as well. But you left your hand right in his anyways, the warmth radiating alone from just his hands feeling incredible.

Getting to the nicely decorated stalls was even easier now, the shopping crowd gone now that the actual market was closed for the night. That only left you, other visitors and general off world tourists, all those that weren't already used to the bright lights basically lighting up the night on their own. Fairy lights were a weird thing, so small and yet they managed to bring so much simple joy to a whole mass of people.

All by just doing their job. By doing only as they were supposed to do.

"Look, those even change their color, Cal!" You point out to one in particular, the colors ranging from pink all the way to orange, the most vivid variations of the colors in between being showcased. It transfixed both of you almost immediately as you both had the same baffled expression on your faces, mouths hanging slightly open. "I…I never saw such things on the other planets…not the colorful ones at least."

And especially not at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant…

(To part 2 of chapter 4)

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#cal kestis x reader #star wars fallen order #cal kestis #cal kestis x oc #fallen order cal kestis

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