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mother-above · 4 months

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The Golden Warrior | Chapter 7

Azriel x Reader

Summary: To you, love was a poison that slowly killed. It was something that could make the strongest of warriors and leaders weak and vulnerable. You had successfully evaded romance and relationships for a century until the day you realized it had been plaguing you from within.

Chapters: 7/?

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: suggestive, violence, and swearing

*masterlist*

A/N: please bare with Azriel and the reader. They’re both stupid and have deep-rooted problems.

Azriel burst through his shadows and startled his family who were sitting by the campfire. They stopped their tasks to watch Azriel swiftly walk by them with clenched fists. He acknowledged no one as he entered his tent. Feyre and Mor looked at Rhysand and Cassian to see if they knew anything, but they shrugged. Giving him a few minutes to simmer down, Rhysand and Cassian make their way to Azriel’s tent to find him lying on his cot staring at the ceiling. After a few minutes of pestering, Cassian finally got Azriel to tell them about his frustrations toward your obliviousness to the bond.

Rhysand puts a comforting hand on Azriel's shoulder. “I know how you feel Az, I truly do. All you can do is be patient. She didn’t reject the bond, she doesn’t even know it exists,” said Rhysand. “Think about it, she just started getting to know you. It’s normal for her to assume you are inviting her as a friend.”

“I’m worried that the bond hasn’t snapped because she doesn’t like me,” admitted Azriel.

“That’s ridiculous,” exclaimed Rhysand. “Just give it time and everything will fall into place.”

Azriel shook his head. “We don’t have time,” he snapped. “I don’t know if we’ll survive this, and I can’t die knowing I never told my mate. I’m beginning to think keeping this from her isn’t a clever idea,” said Azriel as he pressed his palms over his eyes.

Cassian had avoided thinking about the possibility that his friends wouldn’t make it alive, their stories ceasing to exist beyond this war. It’s a miracle they’ve lived this long, and he was beginning to think that this was it. He couldn’t blame his brother for feeling desperate, Azriel found his mate and had no idea if they had any time together.

Cassian chewed the inside of his lips as he weighed Azriel’s options. “You told us she has some issues with relationships, right? I’m not going to tell you what to do but do you think it’ll do more good than bad? She might freak out and we need her full concentration, Az.”

Azriel sighed deeply and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his whole body slumped forward. “You’re right.” The conversation in the Palace’s courtyard was still fresh in his head. He’d never met anyone so passionate and anti-relationship in his life.

He said nothing more as his shadows swarmed him. Rhysand and Cassian patiently waited for him to elaborate but they knew better, Azriel wasn’t going to say a word and would just sit there and ruminate in his thoughts. Once left alone, Azriel laid back down and stared at the ceiling. He could feel his chest tightening, the golden cord desperately reaching for its nonexistent other half.

Of course, my mate doesn’t want me. How foolish of me to think that the second-in-command of Dawn Court would give me, an Illyrian bastard, a chance, thought Azriel.

***

Hybern was moving fast, they had reached the border of the Winter Court and those who could winnow were scrambling to transfer the troops to the correct location. While the camps were being set up, the High Lords sent you on a reconnaissance mission. You were the fastest of the Peregryns and could glamour yourself to avoid detection. When you were airborne, you took notice of a shadow that was struggling to keep up with you. Rolling your eyes, you hold your hand out allowing the wisp to latch on and wrap around your fingers.

“Tell the shadowsinger that he needs to start trusting me to report accurate information,” you whispered to the shadow.

It chittered back but of course; you couldn’t understand it. Little did you know Azriel sent his shadows to alert him of any sign of trouble. With one whisper of danger from his shadows, Azriel would drop everything to find you.

After a couple of hours of scouting and traveling as fast as you could, you arrived at the main war tent to report to the High Lords and their military commanders. Sweating profusely, you dumped your helmet on the floor as Callon handed you a cold drink of water. The shadow that was curled around your hand skittered back to Azriel who stood in the corner of the room. Thesan, Rhysand, Tarquin, Helion, and Kalias patiently waited for you to catch your breath as you plopped onto a chair.

“I’m not going to lie, boys,” you said solemnly. Azriel held back a chuckle, only you would get away with calling the High Lords ‘boys.’ Except for Thesan, the other High Lords were secretly afraid of you. “What I saw was disheartening, the army was twice the size of the first battle. I tried looking to see if more ships were arriving by sea, but I saw no movement as far as I could see. It’s a possibility they glamoured their ships so I don’t know for sure.”

There were so many things to prepare for and you were constantly moving around the tent strategizing over the war table’s scale map of the battlefield. Despite being busy all day, so much of your attention was spent keeping track of Azriel’s whereabouts. You always wanted him in your line of sight, it was easy to evade him that way. Despite your diligence, it was hard to truly avoid him, especially after you realized that whenever his gaze landed on you, it felt like a cool breeze caressed your skin.

The last interaction you had with Azriel at the healer's tent was so intimate that it terrified you. You remember reveling in his presence and you hated that you were still thinking about it. Then there was the possibility of Azriel asking you out on a date. You were curious to know if that was what he meant or if your paranoia of someone getting close to you was affecting how you viewed his intentions.

Once battle strategizing was done, you allowed yourself to look over at Azriel who was talking to Cassian. You had to admit he looked incredibly handsome in his Illyrian leathers that it was tempting enough to go and talk to him. Before the Shadowsinger had the chance to make eye contact and weaken your resolve, you grabbed Thesan and Callon and winnowed them to the Dawn Court camp. The two males looked at your retreating form in shock, the force of your power making you winnow so fast, it gave them whiplash. They watched you enter your private tent and gave each other concerned looks.

Lounging in bed, you rubbed your chest hoping to get rid of this tight feeling, but it never prevailed. It was one of the reasons why you were so tired after your mission, the whole time you felt constricted even though there was nothing physically wrong with you. It was anxiety but you couldn’t pinpoint what was causing it. Was it about the upcoming battle? Your family's safety? The court's safety? Whatever it was, you hoped it would go away soon.

***

The cool crisp air drifting from the Winter Court felt like a blessing as it dried your warm and clammy skin. From the sky, the battlefield looked even more chaotic in comparison to what you saw on the ground. The Prythian troops were getting slightly overwhelmed, which prompted Thesan to signal that now was a suitable time to use your ‘venom’. Breathing hard and rubbing your chest, you force yourself to concentrate and harness your power. With enough of your golden energy gathered at the palm of your hands, you send a burst of magic to the Hybern soldiers.

Moments later, about two hundred soldiers dropped to their knees as they coughed up blood and keeled over. Some were screaming in pain and others just dropped dead. You tried to muster more magic, but it sputtered and only reached a couple dozen Hybern soldiers before noticing your magic reserves had run dry. The soldiers you killed allowed a few moments rest for Prythian, but it wasn’t enough, everyone was back to fighting. Joining the soldiers on the ground, you felt your cheeks redden knowing you barely made a dent against the enemy. The Courts desperately needed the upper hand, and you couldn’t give it to them.

Using your embarrassment as fuel, you moved swiftly and cut through the Hybern soldiers. Caked in dirt, blood, and sweat, the Prythians slowly moved forward as the scale tipped in your nation’s favor. At one point, you, Wyla, and Azriel formed a trio that worked well together quickly taking down the enemy. A day ago, you were avoiding the male, but you couldn’t afford to think like that. In battle, all of that was irrelevant, it was either kill or be killed.

It was mesmerizing watching Azriel fight, he was like an impenetrable wall with his sword and dagger. Even his shadows worked in tandem with him, they watched his back and were weapons themselves. You had forgotten his shadows were weapons too, those same wisps that once gently wrapped around your hands were now striking for the kill.

All was going well until you watched a Hybern commander cut Cassian from his navel to sternum. With your eyes wide open, a scream escaped your lips as your death and poison rolled off your fingers. With precision, you directed your magic to every single Hybern soldier within ten feet of Cassian. They dropped dead within seconds. With a beat of your wings, you were the first person to reach the General, your glowing hands the only thing keeping his organs inside.

“Shit!” you roared, laying Cassian on the ground. “Stay with me Cassian!” He was screaming in pain and there wasn’t much you could do but keep your glowing hands on him. If you let go, he was going to die.

His skin was stitching too slowly, and he was losing too much blood, you willed more healing magic toward his abdomen, but you were too tired. He was going to need a well-rested healer or Thesan, but he was still fighting. In seconds, you decided that you had to save your new friend. You winnowed the both of you to the joint Dawn and Night Court's healing tent, your abrupt arrival made them jump in surprise. They helped you place a too-pale Cassian on a cot and immediately began to help you heal.

Quickly wiping your bloody hands with a cloth, you efficiently ordered the team of Night and Dawn healers. “I want one of you to focus your magic on stopping his bleeding, someone to clean the impurities that got into his body, and I want another healer to start stitching the skin on the sternum. I will focus on the arrangement of the organs and begin reconnecting the abdominal muscles. Please and thank you.”

The Night Court healers knew who you were, word had spread that the Dawn healer they learned from decades ago was the 2nd in command and Golden Warrior. Most healers in Prythian learned what they knew from the schools in Dawn Court, and under the guise of a normal Dawn Court citizen, you were able to work and teach healers from all over Prythian. After careful and fast work, you were able to reconnect the abdominal muscles which meant the worst part had finally passed. His body would have to finish the rest of the healing but with the work you did, he was going to survive.

Cassian was only asleep due to a strong painkilling potion, but you could tell the pain was still there because his brows were furrowed. You and a healer named Madja were stitching his skin together when Azriel and Rhysand winnowed into the tent. You lifted a quizzical brow at Rhysand, and he verbally confirmed that the battle was over, and Thesan was safe. Rhysand stood over Cassian, his features a combination of concern and fury. From what you could gather from his and Azriel’s conversation, Cassian had disobeyed a direct order from his High Lord, and it resulted in today’s injury.

After you and a healer named Madja finished stitching to the best of your abilities, you sagged against the wall in complete exhaustion. Healing Cassian took all your remaining energy. Azriel rushed to your side and helped you sit on a cot. He felt how drained you were and drew you close to lean your body against his. You were so tired it didn’t even cross your mind how intimate this gesture was.

Rhysand and Azriel profusely thanked you for all you’ve done for their brother. Feyre and Mor rushed into the tent and the blonde made a beeline toward you. She wrapped you in a big hug and blubbered her ‘thank yous’ before making her way to Cassian.

Azriel was looking at you with his eyes wide open and his pupils blown out. He was so impressed he couldn’t believe you were his mate. Without you, he would have lost his brother and that alone made him forever indebted to you. He felt good now that you were safely by his side, the feeling of your weight against him made his heart flutter.

You cast your magic over Cassian one last time and nodded in approval. “He’s going to be fine, a few days rest and he’ll be back to normal. Make sure he takes it easy.”

Realizing how close you were to Azriel, you sat up and leaned away from his warm body. You stomped down the feeling of comfort you were getting from him. He opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t give him a chance.

Azriel’s cheeks burned as he watched your mud-stained wings grow smaller as you briskly walked away. He was glad that his family was occupied with Cassian to take notice of him. He could tell you were avoiding him, and that very idea made him feel like shit. He knew he pushed too far by inviting you to Velaris, he should’ve listened to that little voice inside his head that told him he wasn’t worthy of love.

Turning his attention back to Cassian, he inspected the work you’ve done. He listened to Madja as she spoke to Feyre and Rhys. Madja was Rhysand’s most trusted healer and to hear her speak about you in such high regard made his chest swell. His shadows whispered their approval as they danced around him. He just wished he knew what you were thinking.

***

With your skin scrubbed clean and a fresh set of clothes, you walked into the main war tent with confidence. The icy blonde heads of the Winter Court swiveled in your direction, Kallias gave a nod to Thesan as Viviane waved you over to the chair next to her. The two of you were chatting about what type of potions you use for clear skin when you found out that Kallias had banned his wife from fighting.

Leaning forward dramatically, you glared at the High Lord of Winter. After semi-hostile banter and input from the other courts arriving, you helped convince Kallias to let Viviane fight in the next battle. You and Viviane were giggling about Kallias’s pout when you felt a cool caress on the scarred side of your face. You turned to see Azriel’s earnest eyes on you as Night Court filed into the tent.

Captivated, you keep eye contact before you see Viviane bristle in the corner of your eye. Her eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and fascination, following her gaze you saw someone you’ve only heard about.

Amren. Rhysand’s 2nd in command.

You could feel her power now that you noticed her presence. Her sharp eyes fleet across the room as she nods to everyone in her presence. The only thing you know about her is that she was thousands of years old and extremely powerful. Thesan and Rhysand waved you over to officially meet her and you could understand why everyone in the room stiffened when she came in, Amren was terrifying. Her stature was one of the shortest in the room and yet, she had this menacing aura around her.

Her silver eyes scanned you from head to toe and then looked curiously over to your wings. Everyone held their breath as they watched two powerful beings size each other up. Amren flashed her perfect teeth and grinned at you wickedly. She grasped your hand in a hold that you assumed was a custom way of greeting in whatever world she came from. She told you she was excited to work with you in the future.

The meeting finally started, and the High Lords and Generals discussed any advantages we could have. The court’s scouts were reporting that the next fight was most likely the last battle. Hybern’s forces increasingly grew as more ships transported them from their island. They were also moving into human territories, which posed another problem. The odds against Prythian’s armies and Hybern’s forces were looking grim.

While discussing Spring and Autumn Court’s participation, High Lord Helion pointed out that he could tell you were not reaching your full potential. He criticized Thesan for keeping you hidden away for all these years when you could have been trained to do bigger things. This pissed Thesan off, his teeth gritted as he tells Helion he had his reasons, but Helion was having none of it.

“Maybe that’s the extent of her power,” interjected Kallias. “She may be a great warrior but there could be a chance she’s not as powerful as we think. I think we’re putting too much pressure on someone who just can’t perform.”

Viviane grimaced as she looked at you for a reaction. Sometimes she couldn’t believe her husband didn’t get in any more fights with the way he talked and presented himself.

“There's no way in Hel her little display in yesterday’s battle is all she could do,” pressed Helion. “Do you not feel her power? I choke on it every time she walks into the room. She’s just untrained, that’s all.”

You cringed as the other High Lords and their entourage agreed. Feeling embarrassed, you reigned in your power and stored it in the sapphire necklace that appears on your neck. It was humiliating to hear them agree that you could do much more… save more Prythian lives if you were strong enough. Your heart started to pound, you wanted to defend yourself, but they were right.

Azriel could feel the anguish under your calm demeanor, he wished he could bash the heads of everyone who was speaking ill of you. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort you, but he couldn’t. Instead, he let a shadow discreetly curl around your ankle. Even if it was a small gesture, he had to do something to show his support.

The moment you felt the cool wisp touch your skin, you knew who and what it was. The burning anger in your chest slowed as you held the gaze of the Shadowsinger. You give him a discreet nod and he responds with the smallest quirk of his lips. To your surprise, another gesture of comfort came from Tarquin who sat on your other side. He placed a large reassuring hand on your thigh and kept it there, it was affectionate, and bewilderingly, you didn’t swat him away.

Tired of all the bullshit the males were spewing, Amren piped in as she picked on her red nails. “You choke on it because you’re all too weak to handle it,” she said coolly. “Don’t worry about our angel of death, she will be powerful enough when the time comes.”

You're not sure whether it was because everyone was afraid of Amren or because of the finality in her tone, but the topic thankfully changed. Her support was appreciated but you have no idea why she was confident in you. With a shadow still wrapped around your ankle, you sat and contemplated how you could reach your full potential.

***

The next few days were spent doing everything you and Thesan could think would help you harness control of your power. The problem wasn’t the stamina of your magic, for 12 hours straight you were doing extensive protective magic around the camps and your magic never faltered. After many theories were evaluated, it all boiled down to either a mental block or something the Mother or Cauldron intended. Thesan had ordered you to relax as much as you could but that was a ridiculous request. An attack on the camps could happen at any moment and it was impossible to relax when that was a possibility.

You had just spent the last 8 hours back in Dawn Court checking the magical shields in the borders and doing research with the priestesses. You invited them to your private library, and you all scoured the books for any information on how to develop your magic. No one found any new information on how to boost your powers, but the priestesses did stumble on something that could be useful. There was a death god named Achlys from thousands of years ago who could poison people like you. The ancient tome didn’t have much information, but Achlys was noted to have developed their magic and had become incredibly powerful. The priestess made a point that in theory, you should be able to cultivate your powers to grow stronger and do things you never imagined.

The head priestess, Irabel, revisited one of Thesan’s theories about your problem being connected to the Cauldron or the Mother. After some prayer, meditation, and focusing on your aura, she believed you were having problems because you were not “whole”. She said she sensed that there was a missing piece in your soul. You blinked at her as if she had two heads. You were more than a hundred years old; you would have noticed if a piece of your soul was missing.

She shook her head, “You may feel perfectly fine because you’ve never felt your soul completely intact.”

“Prythian is at war, and we desperately need every advantage. How do I find the missing piece?” you asked urgently. “I need to find the other piece.”

Irabel looks at you with a fond smile. “My lady, I think the Mother may be implying that you are blessed with a mate. I suspect that you won’t have full capacity of your powers until you are mated.”

Your ears started to ring. No fucking way. This was the last thing you wanted.

“W-what?” you stammered. This may be one of the worst news you’ve ever received. “High Priestess… a mate… the bond… that’s not an option for me.”

“This is all theory, but you do seem to be glowing brighter since the last time I saw you which was before Thesan came back from Under the Mountain. Maybe you’ve met your mate since then. Has there been someone you’ve met and had a connection with?”

Your mind drew a blank until a certain male with rich brown skin and turquoise eyes popped up. Tarquin. It had to be the High Lord of Summer; you should have suspected since you two became easy friends. Until Tarquin, you’ve never slept with the same male twice. Hot panic flooded your bloodstream, you couldn’t believe your worst fears were coming true.

“There’s not enough time for a mating bond,” you diverted. You were going to spare the High Priestess from your slander against something as sacred as a mate bond. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you looked at Irabel fiercely. “Please, there must be a way to be stronger by the time the battle arrives.”

She rested her chin on her steepled fingers. “We mustn't forget the power of sheer will. This may not be the answer you were looking for, but it may be your best chance.”

Once you said goodbye to the priestesses and received word they were safely back in their temple, you winnowed to the war camps. You trudged to Thesan’s tent where you ranted about the discoveries to your cousin and Callon. Thesan kept note to do further research on the god named Achlys, but Callon was far more concerned about finding out who your mate was. At first, you weren’t going to tell them who you thought it was but Thesan and Callon were persuasive. Thesan promised you an exceedingly long vacation if you told them, so you did.

The shock on both their faces was almost worth the agony of knowing you might have a mate and it was probably Tarquin. Thesan didn’t say a word as he looked at you quizzically. Callon on the other hand could barely contain his excitement. He knew you never wanted to be in a relationship, but he couldn’t help but feel joyous for you.

You weren’t on a battlefield today but the level of exhaustion you were feeling felt like you’d participated in one. The weight to perform in the final battle sat heavily on your shoulders and all this nonsense about a mate made things worse.

Saying goodnight, you walked to your tent warily looking around hoping a certain High Lord wasn’t popping by for a visit. You had no idea if you could even look at Tarquin now that you knew what you knew. You scrutinized every interaction you had with him and the more you did that, the more you were convinced he might be your mate. Despite everything, the mating bond must not have snapped because you felt nothing, and you were grateful for that. It would be difficult to avoid Tarquin forever, so you vowed to never touch him again to avoid the snap.

Irritation crawled up your neck at the thought of the High Lord of Summer. In an attempt to forget about him, you submerged yourself in the hot bath water. After washing up and getting dressed, you were so tired that you only bothered to wear underwear and a long tunic that stopped mid-thigh.

Flopping into bed, sleep quickly took over as vivid dreams enveloped your mind. It was a strange dream, nothing was making sense, but you felt like you were being chased, the sounds of howling behind you. The rest of the dream was muddled, the only thing you could clearly see was a scene of Azriel only wearing his Illyrian leather pants. He was leaning forward like he was in pain; blood was dripping from his torso and wings. The rest of the dream was bland, you were just about to peacefully doze in dark bliss when a heavy hand shook your shoulder.

“Quick! Get up, it’s the Shadowsinger!” said Callon urgently. “He needs a healer.”

You rolled out of bed and sprung onto your feet at the mention of Azriel. “What’s happening? Did Hybern attack the camps?” you asked, frantically looking around the tent.

Callon shook his head. “Something happened with the Night Court. Rhysand winnowed in Azriel and requested you since you know more about wings. It’s bad.”

The graveness of Callon’s voice made you make a beeline toward the exit only stopping to tug boots onto your feet. It was past midnight, and the only bright light was coming from the healer's tent. You strode in and the first thing you saw was Azriel who was bickering with Rhysand who was trying to get his brother to sit down and relax.

A gasp escaped your lips as you saw the injuries inflicted on Azriel’s body. There he was- shirtless and roughed up just like the scene from your dream. There were slow healing cuts everywhere and parts of his wings were ripped to shreds. Your eyes roamed over the expanse of his tattooed chest, he was still glistening in sweat, and it made the black swirls that decorated his skin pop out.

Their eyes snapped at you, Azriel’s eyes widened and then his body went slack as he sunk onto a cot. The sudden movement made the claw marks bleed more. Thesan who was assessing the damage looked up and sighed in relief.

“Thank goodness you’re here! He was shot by a faebane arrow and Nuan’s anti-faebane compound can only do so much. It’s affecting both of our healing abilities, and his wings aren’t looking too good,” said Thesan. “Do you think you can extract the poison?”

You stepped closer and peered at his lacerations. You could smell the sharp scent of faebane from the arrow wound on his shoulder. This was something you’d never done before but you could try.

Sitting next to Azriel, you hovered a glowing hand over a wound and you felt the strange resistance of faebane. You grasped his shoulder and Azriel winced at your touch.

“How bad does it hurt?” you asked.

Azriel rolled his neck trying to ignore the burning pain. “The arrow puncture doesn’t hurt much, it’s my wings I’m worried about,” said Azriel.

You sucked in a breath as you glanced at his wings. They were going to need extensive work and it was going to be extremely painful for him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you said as you started the process of concentrating energy onto your fingers. “How are you feeling right now?”

“I feel better now that you’re here,” said Azriel honestly.

Rhysand’s eyes widened as Thesan and Callon shot each other looks. Your mouth curved into a smile as Azriel sputtered.

“You know- I feel better because you’re a master healer with wings,” said Azriel. “I’m in good hands.”

“Of course,” you said taking hold of his shoulder once more.

Azriel wanted to disappear into his shadows. He couldn’t believe he said that in front of everyone.

Closing your eyes, you breathed deeply as the magic concentrated in your hand. Instead of willing the poison to be released from you, you pressed your fingertips onto his skin as you tried to will the faebane out of the wound.

“I am death and poison,” you whispered, barely audible. Golden tendrils from your hand are absorbed into his skin. “Like calls to like. Come to me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened as he felt the strange sensation of your magic, it stung but your proximity was enough distraction. He let your presence calm his mind as he watched your magic in awe. Azriel moved his gaze to see your face slightly scrunched in concentration, the scar on the side contorting as your eyes crinkled. From the beginning, he was always attracted to you but the more time he spent with you, he found your beauty to be always flourishing.

Ever so slowly, you retract your fingers, and the tendrils had latched onto blood that was poisoned by faebane. Carefully, you pulled out all the faebane you could detect in Azriel’s system. Rhysand, Thesan, and Callon watched in wonder as they had never seen anything like this. Once you were finished and had a mass of Azriel’s poisoned blood properly disposed of in some pocket realm, they exploded into excited chatter.

While you appreciated their appreciation, there was still much to be done and they were far too distracting.

“Boys!” you snapped. “I may have gotten the poison out, but we are not out of the woods yet. Either shut up and let me work in silence or get out of the tent!”

Azriel chuckled as he watched his brother, Dawn’s High Lord, and a strong warrior shuffle out of the tent. He loved the idea that his mate had the power to make the High Lords do what you wanted. Granted it was your cousin and Rhysand, but it still meant that his mate was powerful, and he was beginning to adore that about you.

With no distractions, you were able to carefully work on Azriel’s wounds. To distract him from the pain, you asked him what happened. He explained that Hybern had taken Feyre’s sister Elain and that he and the High Lady went on a mission to retrieve her. He ended up having to carry Elain and a human girl while under attack. You gaped at him as you thought of the sheer strength it must have taken to do that. It explained the feminine scents that lingered on his skin you noticed earlier.

The scents weren’t the only thing you noticed. The black swirled tattoos that covered his chest and arms were so beautiful, you had to keep refocusing your attention. The swirls were mesmerizing, they reminded you of his shadows and you couldn’t stop looking. The black ink curved against the muscles under his skin, you had never gotten over how muscular this male was.

Once the wounds on his torso were taken care of, you moved to sit behind him so you could start mending his severely injured wings. Well aware Illyrian wings were sensitive, you wanted to survey what you had to work with before you touched him. Callon wasn’t lying when he said the wings were bad, they were wrecked, and you had no idea if they would heal in time for the big battle. With how tense Azriel was, you were sure the male was putting on a strong façade because if your wings looked like this, you’d be in agony.

“Azriel, I'm going to need to touch your wings to heal you,” you said. “Do I have permission?”

Azriel suddenly felt a little light-headed, he wasn’t sure if was from blood loss or the anticipation of you near his wings again. He nodded and sucked in a breath when he felt your warm hands poke and prod his wings as you examined him. He was glad he was in pain, otherwise, he didn’t think he’d be able to resist you.

“How do they look? Will I fly again?” said Azriel. He was so caught up in your presence that he had almost forgotten why he was in a healer's tent.

“I’m not going to lie,” you said softly “It doesn’t look good, but I haven’t started yet, my answer could change when we’re done.”

He turned to look at you and your heart plunged a little. He looked scared and vulnerable, the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen a warrior be. You don’t blame him, the idea of losing the freedom to fly was something you could understand.

“You should know it’s going to be painful, pain like you’ve never felt before,” you warned. “I’m going to do my best, but you’ll have to bear with me.”

“I trust you,” said Azriel.

It was strange to hear that coming from his own tongue. He had never trusted anyone this quickly, but he knew who you were to him. Despite the knowledge that you were his mate, his gut could tell that he could trust you with his life.

He said it with such conviction, that a gentle smile graced your lips.

“Thank you, Azriel. Good to know I have it,” you said. Clearing your throat, you place your hands on his shoulders and make him turn around again. “I want you to talk to me, tell me anything that’ll get your mind off the pain.”

He nodded and then the slow and excruciating process began. He felt every tug and magical stitch and it sent him rambling more about the mission and how he had to escape Hybern while carrying an Archeron sister and a human girl. You carefully worked and listened intently, his deep voice letting you slip into an ultra-concentrated trance. It was broken when you hit a nerve which sent Azriel gripping the cot and letting out a strained yelp. You apologized and let him gather himself before leaning down to continue healing.

“What was your childhood like?” you asked, trying to distract him.

Azriel’s shadows began to swarm around him, protective of their master. He wordlessly told them that it was alright, so they calmed.

“My childhood was… difficult,” replied Azriel. “You know, I’m no stranger to pain. It’s all I’ve felt my entire life.”

Your fingers froze over his wings, was he going to talk about the scars on his hands?

Letting out a shaky breath, you replied. “Oh?”

Blinking, you continued to heal while doing your best to calm your heartbeat. A part of you was eager to find out if you did have dreams about Azriel being locked in a cellar. A larger part of your subconscious was scared to find out because it would mean there was a deeper connection between the two of you. Even when you weren’t thinking about it, your heart was always protecting you.

Azriel glanced down at his clenched fists. Those scarred hands that he hated so much. He decided not to tell you what really happened to him, he didn’t want to scare you away with his childhood trauma. So instead, he resorted to deflecting which he was an expert at.

“Enough about me, I want to know what’s troubling you,” said Azriel as he smirked and looked back at you.

You raised a brow. “What makes you think something is troubling me?

“First of all, your energy is practically suffocating me at this moment and the second reason is you’re not wearing any pants. You’re Thesan’s 2nd, you would never step out in public looking informal.”

Jerking back in surprise, you looked down to see that he was right. You were only wearing a tunic and boots, your bare skin brushing against his waistband and back. Hyper-aware of how close you were to Azriel, you moved backward as heat rushed to your cheeks.

“I apologize for my appearance; I was in such a rush I didn’t realize I only had my tunic on!”

Azriel shrugged nonchalantly, the movement making him grimace in pain.

“It’s alright. I appreciate the urgency,” said Azriel.

You continued your delicate work on his wings while making sure there was enough distance between the two of you.

“You didn’t answer my first question. What’s gotten you so distracted you forgot to put pants on?” asked Azriel. “Is it the upcoming battle?”

Chewing the inside of your lip, you contemplated whether you should say anything. This was an incredibly personal topic but the weight it had on your shoulders was intense, you needed to talk about it. Choosing your words carefully, you make sure you don’t reveal too much.

“I was recently told that to be more powerful, I would have to find the other half of my soul…” you said quietly. “When I was searching for answers, that was the last thing I wanted to hear.”

Is she talking about the mate bond? Does she know about our bond? thought Azriel.

His heart started to pound as he tried to form the proper words in his head. Azriel stammered, “Uh- when you say your other half, do you mean—"

“The oh-so-sacred mate bond?” you interrupted; your voice laced with dismay.

Azriel felt the blood drain from his face, you sounded scared. “You told me you didn’t like relationships, but I didn’t think it extended to the mating bond.”

You sighed as you focused on healing a tendon in his wing. “I told you I have complicated feelings about love. What’s troubling me is I think I may have met my mate and I know who it is.”

“Oh?” said Azriel shakily. “Who do you think it is?”

“Before I say anything, you need to promise you won’t speak a word about this to anyone else. If you break my trust, I swear I’ll make sure you shit and vomit for an entire day. It’ll be the worst day of your life.”

Azriel hastily agreed. He wanted to laugh but the suspense was overpowering everything.

“Well, I don’t know for sure, but the High Priestess suspects I have a mate, and if her theory is right…. I think it’s someone I've recently slept with,” you admitted.

Jealousy ignited within the shadowsinger as he turned to look at you. You protested his sudden movement and his wings and muscles screamed at him, but Azriel couldn’t care less. He felt his blood boil as he thought of another male touching you. It took everything in him not to demand who your lover was, you had every right to sleep with anyone you wanted and Azriel had to live with that.

“What are you going to do about it?” asked Azriel lowly. His head was spinning, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear your answer.

You looked down in shame, were you going to tell Azriel how you planned to never talk to Tarquin again? The entire idea was ridiculous, but you were going to do anything to make sure that bond would never snap between the both of you. Slowly, you looked up to see Azriel’s exhausted features but despite everything he’d been through today, his gaze was sharp and calculating. There was a tinge of vulnerability in his hazel eyes, you weren’t sure why but that was enough to convince you to be honest.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you looked down at your still-glowing hands. “I don’t know… ignore him forever? All I know is I’m terrified.”

“I don’t understand, what’s so scary about it?”

“Something as strong as the mate bond makes you so vulnerable and weak. I’ve seen what it’s done to my parents and other couples, the bond is a weakness and I refuse to let it distract me,” you admitted. “It doesn’t even have to be a mate bond, love itself is a corruption.”

Azriel was speechless as he tried to come up with something to say. He had never met anyone like you, and it made his heart twist knowing that his mate thought like this. In his silence, you gently urged him to turn around so you could continue to heal him. You were almost done stitching his wings when he finally spoke.

“What happened to you?” he asked, he didn’t bother hiding the sadness and confusion in his voice. “What happened to make you think like this?”

You thought about telling him about your parents, but you stopped yourself, it was too difficult and too personal to talk about. Instead, you let your hand's repetitive movements lull you into a memory.

“25 years ago, I was out on patrol with two Peregryns who were spouses. A creature was wreaking havoc on a town and at the time, we didn’t know it was a Puca.”

Azriel breathed sharply, he already knew it was going to be a horrible end.

“At one point, we were all separated and the Puca lured the wife pretending to be her injured husband. It was too late when we noticed, I didn’t even hear her yell…it was her blood that I smelt first. Her husband and I killed the Puca but the scream he let out when he saw her body—I can still hear it sometimes,” you said thickly. “We would check on him occasionally, but he was never the same. He was a shell of a male; it was only when the curse broke that I saw him walking around the city and even then, he looked ghastly and bleak.”

No one spoke after that, just the quiet shuffling of your hands moving and you and Azriel’s heartbeats. You wondered what Azriel was thinking, he probably lost all respect for you once he heard your opinions on something so sacred. Casting your magic over his wings and other injuries, you concluded that you did everything possible and that only time would heal the rest of his wounds.

Mindful you were going to face him after your haphazard explanation of why you don’t want a mate, you gathered your courage to reveal the bad news. Moving to sit on the cot across from Azriel, you explained to him that he was going to need at least 2 weeks of complete rest. It took him a second but when it dawned on him that he wouldn’t be able to participate in the big battle, he slumped forward and covered his face with his hands.

You looked at him in shock, you expected him to argue and fight against your orders, but he just sat there and breathed heavily. While you were concerned for the shadowsinger, Azriel was holding back hysterical laughter and roars of frustration. He wasn’t angry at you; he was furious at the world for all the hardships they’d thrown at him.

His own mate was so frightened and resistant of the mate bond, that you had deluded yourself into thinking another male was your mate. If only you knew who you were talking to, thought Azriel, you’d have a heart attack. He also cursed the universe for his injuries. How could he keep still while you and his family were fighting for their country? Azriel thought he was going to snap until he felt you place a hand on his knee.

“Azriel? I’m so sorry, I know how much you want to fight but your wings won’t last,” you said gently. “If you try to fly too soon, you’ll have irreparable damage on your wings.”

Collecting his thoughts, it took him a while to respond. “What if I don’t fly? Can’t I stay on the ground and fight there?” asked Azriel.

You looked at the beautiful, battered male in front of you. The healing you and Thesan could only do so much once faebane had affected it. You were able to remove the poison from his blood, but the damage was already done.

Shaking your head, you squeezed his knee in an attempt to comfort him. “I’m sorry, baby bat. I wouldn’t risk it if you want to fly again, I’ll make sure Rhysand gets briefed, so you don’t try to undermine my orders.”

He chuckled and a smile made its way to your lips at the rich sound. The both of you sat in silence once more, listening to the nocturnal animals make their faint sounds around the war camp.

“I think I understand you better now,” said Azriel, his voice slicing through the air. “You’re not scared of love or relationships. You shut yourself out because you’re scared of losing people. You’re scared of how much it’ll hurt once someone you genuinely love disappears from your life.”

Your jaw dropped as you blinked at him. No one had ever spoken to you that bluntly, let alone try to analyze your character like that and you did not like it. He was wrong but something about his words rang true. It almost seemed like Azriel was trying to make you feel bad for feeling like that, but it only did the opposite.

Memories of your parent's abandonment flooded your mind, and you blinked back tears. You were going to make sure that bond would never snap between you and Tarquin.

You would do anything.

“I don’t think you understood my story,” you chided, leaning closer to Azriel. “I don’t want a mate or a lover because I don’t want to be weak.”

Azriel raised a brow, he didn’t think you’d be this hard-headed. “Love doesn’t make you weak, little dove. Ignorance does.”

“It’s not ignorance, it’s awareness,” you quipped back. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you haven’t been worried sick about Morrigan in the last two battles. You took your eye off the enemy, Azriel, that sounds like vulnerability to me.”

Azriel couldn’t believe you mentioned Morrigan. He wished he could tell that it was you who he was always checking on, but he couldn’t do that. He wished he could tell you that a mate is what he’s been waiting for all his life.

The world felt eerily still as you and Azriel gravitated closer to each other, both of you desperate for the other individual to see their point. Azriel’s burning gaze took in the beauty of his irrational mate. If only you knew the whole truth, you’d be swallowing your words. With your faces inches apart, your eyes hovered over his lips and something within wanted to press your lips against his… to do anything to forget the High Lord of Summer.

Slowly, the scent of the disinfectants and potions in the tent dispersed into the nether. The only thing you could smell was the pleasant waft of cedarwood and the chilled mist of night. Your gaze flickered to his hazel eyes and suddenly, all thoughts of formality, consequence, and reason flew out the window.

“Can I kiss you?”

Azriel sharply inhaled. Did he just hear you correctly? He thought his mind was playing tricks with him until he saw the intensity in your eyes. “Why?” he asked shakily.

“Help me forget him,” you whispered. “I don’t want to be weak.”

Azriel should’ve said no for both his and your sake. He could only imagine how furious you would be once you found out he was your actual mate, but he couldn’t resist this request. He was desperate for you, and he would take scraps if that was all you would give him. For you, he was learning he would do anything.

He never thought he could feel heartbroken and elated at the same time. Azriel took his hand and placed it tenderly on the scarred side of your face. Your eyes go wide as he gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. Wholly taking advantage of the opportunity you gave him, he memorized every single detail, down to every hair, fine line, freckle, and beauty mark on your face. Gathering his courage, he pulled you towards him and you met him halfway.

The moment your lips met; everything went blank. All was forgotten but Azriel. His presence was the only thing you could sense. Everything felt magnified. His lips were soft as they slowly moved against yours. The scrape of your tunic sleeve as it brushed against his chest sounded like thunder. The smooth glide of your hands felt like silk as you gently pulled him closer where his neck met his shoulder.

Being this close and kissing Azriel felt exhilarating, so much so that your golden glow was detected with closed eyes. You don’t know if it was 30 seconds or 30 minutes but time felt different. Slightly out of breath, the both of you leaned your foreheads against each other in disbelief. Suddenly, the loud chatter of Rhysand and Thesan by the tent opening makes you and Azriel spring apart.

You were just able to stand up and straighten yourself out when Rhysand and your cousin casually strode in, their faces smooth and unreadable. Moments later Calon and Cassian walked in, and they met your eye with smirks on their lips. You cringed at the thought of the four fae hearing what went down between you and Azriel. You gave the warriors a warning glare that would ensure their silence for the time being.

Still slightly dazed from your kiss with Azriel, you gestured to Rhysand to walk with you to the corner of the tent in a desperate attempt to clear your mind before speaking to the High Lord. Clearing your throat, you explained to Rhysand what you were able to mend and how much damage the faebane had done to his body. You tell him that you highly recommend Azriel to be banned from fighting in the next battle. Rhysand asked questions and you prayed to the Mother he wouldn’t mention anything about the shadowsinger’s scent that wafted from you.

As the shadowsinger watched his mate talk to his brother, Azriel tugged hard against the golden thread in his chest but to his dismay, the other side was still vast and empty. He still couldn’t believe he’d kissed you, with the way things were going, he never thought he’d get the chance. Despite the bond not snapping for you, Azriel could tell with the way you were breathless and glowing; that at this moment, whoever your lover was, was long forgotten.

For now, this was enough for Azriel.

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #acotar #acomaf #acotar fanfiction

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edenfenixblogs · 4 months

Note

Hey, I came from your post about Night. I’ve been wanting to read it for a while now, but I’ve heard that the English version is very watered down and stripped of the original emotions that are in the Yiddish version. Do you know if there are any more accurate English translations, or if the Hebrew one is more like the original? Sorry if you’re not the right person to ask about this, you just seem quite knowledgeable

(also coming from my vent account so I don’t get any hate on main for being a Jew lol)

No worries at all, @nonbinary-vents:

I want to be clear about something: My post was aimed at goyim.

You are a Jewish person, and reading this book (especially if you haven't read any other accounts of experiences in concentration camps) may be an important thing for you to do. And I'd cautiously encourage you to do so if you feel emotionally stable. But you do not need to worry about the experience of this book feeling watered down.

If you are Jewish and not in a very stable emotional state, do not read this book. Do not cause yourself harm.

(If you are goyiscshe, you should challenge yourself and force yourself to read this book. Obviously if you are in an actual emotional/psychological crisis or dealing with the death or illness of a loved one, then you are the only goyim who has an excuse not to read this book. No matter who you are, do not read this book if it will cause you actual mental harm or drive you to somehow cause yourself physical harm. But if it will make you upset, depressed, panicked at your own failings, or other extremely unpleasant but ultimately human discomfort, then you should read this book. Jews don't get a choice about knowing this shit, because knowing this shit is how we survive. And you NOT knowing this shit is what makes it so easy for you to dismiss and target us over and over and over again. You should be uncomfortable. You should feel guilty. Because unless you're actively learning how to disentangle yourself from the antisemitism that led to The Holocaust, then you are actively participating in thee fomentation of another. And that should horrify you.)

Sure, I bet this book is even more haunting and visceral in the original Yiddish. I've spoken recently about how hard Jewish language is to translate to English.

But there is no world in which this book will feel watered down to you.

@nonbinary-vents This book will haunt you. This book will change you. This book will challenge your faith and your ability to trust people.

Remember going in that Judaism asks us not to separate ourselves from our community--not just our Jewish community, but any community in which we find ourselves. Resist the urge this book may stir within you to become insular and fearful of goyim. That is not our way. We are a part of the communities and cultures and nations in which we find ourselves. And we must do good for those communities, because that is what we are called to do. The lesson of this book for Jews is different than the lesson of this book for goyim.

The lesson of this book for Jews -- in fact, the lesson of "Never Again" for Jews -- is that we cannot ever allow this to happen to ourselves again. No, of course, I am not blaming Jews for the Holocaust and if anyone thinks that's what I'm arguing here, then they can fuck off.

The lesson of this book for Jews is that we must never again let fear hold us back from fighting for ourselves. If he world calls upon us to die, we must refuse. Refuse to put ourselves on a list. Refuse to follow our oppressors' directions to the ghetto. Refusal to get on the train or to enter the gas chamber. And we must refuse to be silent for other people's comfort. While it is a Jewish imperative to believe that every human being is capable of kindness and has inherent goodness within them, we can never again trust that the kindness and goodness they possess will ever be directed at us. There was the very understandable thought back when this all started that if we just complied--if we were just willing to suffer a little bit by moving to the ghettos or registering on the lists of Jews the Nazis demanded or carried our papers with us at all time and wore our stars just as they said --then they would eventually realize we were good citizens. They would eventually realize we were just people like them doing their best to live quiet lives and follow the rules. People believed that, if we just complied, they'd remember their humanity and our own. If we just complied and let ourselves suffer, hen maybe our friends and loved one would be safe.

But that was a lie we told ourselves.

No amount of compliance or agree-ability or self-sacrifice will ever make someone who sees Jews as evil and subhuman realize that Jews are actually just human beings like everyone else. Compliance will never ensure our safety; it will just make us easier to kill. Compliance won't make antisemites see us as human; it will only ever make them see us -- at best -- as agreeable livestock.

(although I doubt any farmer would treat their animals as cruelly as Nazis and their supporters treated us).

I am not advocating for violence. But I advocating for discomfort and defense. That is why I am on here every day writing the things I write. I will not shut up for the comfort of people who don't care about my life or my safety. And neither should you. Neither should any of us. I will not allow antisemites to co-opt our own tragedies to demonize us further while casting themselves as warriors for justice.

No, we should not take to the streets and start harming goyim. But if the day comes that they once again start to round us up, I for one will tear those Nazis a-fucking-part with my bare hands. And if they live to have children and grandchildren of their own, they will have to explain to their children and grandchildren that they got the scars on their face and the missing eyeball because the Jew they were trying to murder wouldn't submit quietly.

And if this seems like a hyperbolic and absurd hypothetical to anyone reading this? Well, yeah. It seemed like one back then, too.

(And if any goyim chose to read "Night" by Elie Wiesel because of my post, please tell me. Please engage. I cannot be emphatic enough about this. If you are willing to read night in the way I asked of you in my post, then please do reach out to me with your experience and thoughts. Because that's the whole point. Jews need you to listen and engage with us about our own suffering. We need you to consider your impact on us and to not run away from that guilt or from us. If any of you are willing to read this book in the way that I have asked of you, please please please don't keep your experience to yourself. A lot of Jews desperately need to see goysiche growth in understanding antisemitism and its affects. I don't think you can even imagine how scared and lonely we are right now)

#ask me stuff #nonbinary-vents #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #deconstruction #Shoah TW #Holocaust TW #Genocide TW #I don't care about my oppressors' discomfort #Or their opinions about my own morals #If you don't care about Jewish suffering then I don't value your opinion #I live in fear of your opinion #Your opinion makes me actively endangered #your apathy makes me actively endangered #But your opinion's value is worth rat's diarrhea to me #it is nothing

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moon-tells-stories · 4 months

Text

Heart Problems~

Connor Stoll x gn reader

Connor is completely in love with you, too bad you’re trying to set him up with someone else.

Part 2 Dear Diary, I’m an idiot

Connor knew he had a problem.

He liked to consider himself a pretty self aware person: he knew he was a liar, he knew he could be a bit of an asshole, he knew he would sometimes come off as a bit cold, he knew he was too vindictive, he knew not everyone liked his pranks and now…. he knew he absolutely and completely had a problem.

The problem in question?

He was in love with his best friend.

Now, someone might say “ok, Connor, big deal, everyone gets crushes sometimes”.

But this wasn’t just a simple crush.

People with a crush don’t feel their hearts implode in their chests when they see the person they like smile.

People with a crush absolutely do not feel every single cell in their body beg to see the person they like every time they’re not there.

People with a crush would feel naturally rejected and maybe a bit sad if the person they liked did not return their feelings.

But as much as it would have probably killed him from inside out, Connor just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

He couldn’t risk confessing to you and ruin your friendship. It was too important, you were too important.

The price just wasn’t worth the risk, he was happy just being your friend, being close to you was enough, seeing you smile at him even if it was platonic was enough, laughing and joking around with you was enough.

(He felt like smashing his head against a wall repeatedly when he remembered that you would never know how much he truly loved you but he pushed the thought down)

After all if there was one thing Connor Stoll was truly good at that was lying.

The light cascading between the leaves of the tree the two of you were laying against would sometimes fall into your eyes and Connor would feel his heart beat out of his chest.

You were talking about the recent book you had read.

You had always loved reading, your dyslexia made it a bit difficult but when you arrived at camp Chiron taught you how to turn your books into ancient greek texts which helped a lot.

Connor had never really been a fan of reading, partly because of his dyslexia, that every demigod had, but also because he simply found it- boring. He didn’t like staying put and reading required staying still and concentrating, both things he wasn’t very good at.

However he liked listening to you ramble on and on about your favourite books, you could talk about them for hours on end and he would listen to your voice on repeat forever if he could.

(Gods, he was so smitten it was honestly pathetic)

But seeing you so exited about sharing your favourite story with him, he realised that he absolutely did not care about how probably pathetic he was.

“And then! the villain turns out to be….” you trail off for a bit of suspence and he smiles softly.

(he definitely looks like an absolute fool)

“His brother!” you say exited, turning to the book and holding up the page where the protagonist gets betrayed.

Connor smiles surprised “no way, that’s gotta sting-” he says while reading the page you were gesturing to.

(he doesn’t think about how that sound so painfully familiar)

“I know!” you say a mix between excited and frustrated “he was my favourite character too” you groan and Connor laughs “ouch- why do your favourite characters always either die or turn out to be the villain?” he jokes, remembering how in the book you told him about last month, your favourite character sacrificed herself and died.

You throw your head back “i must be cursed- it’s not fair!” you laugh.

(connor wants to record the sound and listen to it forever-)

He grimaces internally at that thought, that wasn’t creepy, right???

He takes your book in his hands, trying to play it cool, trying to pretend that his heart did not flutter at the sound of your laugh “sure, buttercup, i’m sure a god decided to curse every single character you like” he teases you.

You laugh (his heart did not skip a beat- liar) and playfully punch his shoulder at the nickname.

Some voices come from the archery pitch nearby, a few kids of the Apollo cabin joke and laugh loudly among themselves, you glance at them before turning to him with a small smile.

(he pretends not to notice that the smile is not entirely genuine)

“Did you meet the new Apollo kid?” you ask him with a sort of teasing smile that he does not comprehend.

“You mean Remy?” he asks slightly confused, as the counsellor of the Hermes cabin he met lots of new campers that came and went, Remy had arrived last week, they stayed in cabin 11 for two days before getting claimed by Apollo, he wasn’t sure why you were suddenly bringing them up.

“Yeah” you nod, the weird teasing smile still on you lips, “aren’t they cute?” you ask playfully.

Connor is really really not sure what he should answer, it’s not that he doesn’t agree because objectively speaking Remy was indeed attractive, he just never really thought about it and all of this seemed extremely random.

“I guess” is best he comes up with, you laugh slightly “you guess?” you ask between laughs “what kind of answer is that?”.

Connor rolls his eyes and pushes your shoulder playfully “shut up, i just don’t understand this sudden interest in Remy” he tells you.

You shrug, smirking at him (his stupid heart should just explode with how many time it flutters or skips a beat).

You nudge him with your elbow playfully “a little birdie told me that Remy has a crush on you” you wink.

oh.

ohh.

For a second his brain malfunctions… were you- were you trying to set him up with someone?!??!

The worst thing about all of this is that- you look so casual about it. It shouldn’t hurt this much, he knows you don’t feel the same, this isn’t a surprise, he already knew- he already made peace with this fact.

(or at least he should have already made peace with this fact)

Connor swallows his hurt and tries not to think about the way he feels as if a knife had been thrown straight into his heart.

“Really?” he tells you as absentmindedly as he can.

Thankfully he’s a good liar and you don’t notice, you nod happily “yess, and if you want- you can meet them after the campfire near the Apollo cabin” you say smugly.

(the imaginary knife twists painfully in his chest)

Connor would really like to give you a big genuine smile, just make you happy since you seem so exited about this, however the best thing he can muster is a small smile and “i’ll think about it.”

The conversation ends there, you go back to reading your book with a satisfied smile and Connor goes back to dying internally.

He shouldn’t feel this dejected, but he really can’t help it, he’s not sure what’s worst about this story.

The irony that Remy asked the person he’s in love with to set them up together, or the fact that you actually accepted and tried.

He’s not angry at Remy, the new demigod has no fault, and Connor doesn’t blame them or resent them for shooting their shot with him.

(they’ve got way more courage than him, he’s such a coward)

The wind blows softly in his curls and as he looks at you, his heart flutters once more.

The knife twists deeper and Connor curses himself and his stupid stupid heart, Aphrodite, Eros and every other love deity he knows.

But as you smile to yourself while reading a particularly interesting passage in your book he decides that this pain is not so bad.

#connor stoll x reader #connor stoll x you #connor stoll #pjo x reader #pjo x you #x reader #percy jackson imagine #connor stoll x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #non binary oc

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cosmicpancakes · 1 month

Note

Hi! So I saw your post about wanting to talk about Will Solace (me too queen, me too) so what are your headcanons? Or funny little tidbits about him and his friends? Love your blog!

OF COURSE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK!!! to hear that someone genuinely loves my blog is so surreal cause like??? You like my blog?? Where I literally just say what's on my mind and ramble???

(P.S. TO ANYONE SEEING THIS!! IF YOU WANT HEADCANONS FOR OTHER CHARACTERS JUST SHOOT ME AN ASK!!!! I WILL HAPPILY ANSWER THEM ALL :DD)

Okay without further ado, here they are!!!

My Will Solace headcanons! ☀️

He has curly hair! Think somewhere between 2c and 3a

Speaking about hair, his hair is naturally brown and he dyes it blonde

ANOTHER HAIR ONE but he has a very extensive hair care routine! You'd think he would have very damaged hair because of all the bleaching, but that shit is SOFT

Only uses feminine floral perfume cause it smells better (hes right. it does.)

Despite insisting on healthy eating, he survives off of random snacks and red bulls

Loves indie pop and jazz music but does listen to a lot a country as it reminds him of his mother

Hopeless romantic. He will cry to laufey.

90% of his closet is made up of incredibly cheesy dad joke t-shirts.

Wears lots and lots of bracelets! All very mismatched in terms of colour and texture, but it adds to the charm (or so he says)

His hair is just long enough to put in a very short ponytail when he works (but a few loose curls always slip out)

He sticks out his tongue when he's concentrating on something

Clarrisse practically adopted him as her honorary little brother and he went to her highschool graduation!! (she totally did not cry when she saw him. nope. not at all.)

everyone at camp owes him atleast 5 favours except lou ellen because she somehow never gets injured??? Cecil on the other hand, owes him about 13 favours.

Friday is the apollo cabin's game night, and he NEVER wins (kayla swears austin is cheating, but hes just really good at monopoly.)

the cabin is always spotless because he despises stable duty

(This one is canon but not talked about enough) when he said he's horrible at every apollo thing except healing, he was not exaggerating. an absolutely horrid singer and he would miss a target 3 metres away.

okay that was a lie because he can manipulate light.... to a certain extent. he's working on it he swears!!

One of those people that are incredibly insistant about wearing sunscreen even tho he doesn't need it himself

And now for some angsty ones because I know you all love them:

A very obvious one, but he has pretty bad PTSD.

I'm pretty sure this one is canon, but he saw Lee die in botl (i have had a oneshot idea about thia for months, but i literally never finish oneshots so theres no point in trying to write it ☹️)

A lot of people thought him and Lee were biological siblings because they looked so similar and also because they were super close

him and Micheal were also really close, but they were a lot more distant after Lee died and they never really got to reconnect

Post botl, the apollo cabin had about 17 kids. 3 survived the battle of manhattan.

has a really bad habit of overworking to distract himself

Way too many scars for a medic. (He won't admit where he got them from, or why most of them are on him arms.)

Okay, that's all for today!! I hope you enjoyed those headcanons :)

Once again saying this but if anyone reading this wants some headcanons for other characters please please leave me an ask 🙏 love you all okay bye bye

#{🎉 Requests}#{🌈 Headcanons}#{📺 Fluff}#{🛼 Angst}#pjo hoo toa #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #hoo #toa #headcanons #will solace #will solace angst #clarisse la rue #cecil markowitz #lou ellen blackstone #apollo cabin #cabin 7

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animentality · 5 months

Text

I just had the most devastating honor mode run end that I have ever had, and I'm not going to lie.

I have never been tilted by Baldur's Gate 3...until today.

And it's honestly more tilted than I've ever been at a video game...and I spent like 3 years playing fucking Overwatch...and Dead by Daylight, where the world's worst people congregate to torture one another.

The last time I was at the gith creche, I got my ass handed to me by That Prick who I am going to call Wargass. He's the bitch who tries to murder you when you don't kill the Emperor.

Last time, I almost lost the run because of his legendary move, which is the most horse shit thing in existence.

Basically, every time you fucking hit him OR AN ALLY...he summons a sword to shove up your ass. And it just fucking appears next to you, and surrounds you, so you can't escape without taking opportunity attacks.

So last time, I escaped by going invisible, and running away so I could come back and kill him by dragging him out to the bridge outside the Vlaakith room.

This time, I thought, well last time I got fucked because I was in the center of the room, and we were just taking hits from everywhere. No cover anywhere. This time, I gotta be able to position, maybe surprise enemies.

So I choose the right dialogue options, to make sure Vlaakith doesn't just nuke us.

But then I see the Astral Portal...and I think...well, what if I position myself now? And we just kill him before going into the Portal...can you do that?

And like a fucking moron...

I say fuck it, let's try it.

And uh. I don't know how many of you have ever tried this, but...when you do that?

Lae'zel immediately leaves your party.

So.

I was fucked instantly. Lae'zel is a fucking fighter, which is the second most demonic class after Paladin. She is fucking stacked and has the best goddamn gear I have, and she immediately kills Karlach using action surge. Gale also dies immediately, because he's squishy and there are a million bitches with psychic rend around him.

The only reason the run didn't end there was because I went invisible and fled.

Now I went and revived everyone in camp, but I thought ok...so I have to go back, with four people, and get my shit back...

I bring in Astarion, because I think, it'll be fine, we just need to drag them out onto that bridge...

Guess what? It wasn't fine. I had to draw Astarion and myself back, because Gale and Karlach die again. See, the fucking problem is, the normal strat of making distance doesn't work here. Normally, you can aoe a ton of enemies or have them run into walls of fire or whatever. But these fucking swords that Wargass summons literally APPEAR NEXT TO YOU. And they all take a swing, and break your concentration. Plus, even if you do manage to break them, and good luck with that, he just makes more, every goddamn turn.

So almost in tears, I swap out Astarion and pull in Wyll.

I need Hunger of Hadar, my cheese spell.

It kind of works, because I put it on the bridge, and all of his dumb bitch guards get stuck in it. But THEN Wargass, being a fucking prick, chases me around and murders me out of pure spite. Then Karlach and Gale almost kill him...but then he does his usual bullshit, of using his swords to kill everyone.

And I just...at this point, I'm just done.

Wyll can't do anything, he's out of spells. He can't even run, because there are swords near him.

I just have him take an opportunity attack, and call the run over.

And it's funny, because I'm doing an honor mode run with my buddy, where we've done basically everything wrong...but we still made it to Act 3 mostly unscathed.

With only one or two close calls.

But this is the second time my run's been fucked by the goddamn creche boss battle.

And you know... I love Bg3...but I have played way too many goddamn hours.

Need to take a break and just write porn about it, like god intended.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3

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goodday-goodmorn · 10 months

Text

Todays work is of @ghouljams Cowboy141 au! Featuring the nasty boy himself- König! Told from the lovely perspective of Murphys (an OC of Ghouls for those who don’t know) granddaughter!! Go check out Ghoul they have some amazing COD stuff over there (the demon darling AU is one of my fav’s but they’re known for their fae and cowboy stuff!- odd niches i know-)

You had been thinking about this day for months now. Today would finally be the day you earned your honorary, ‘I sold cookies to Birdie’ badge.

And of course, all good plans begin with a pack of markers, paper, and a whiteboard that you borrowed from the back of your pappy's shop. (He wouldn't miss it, besides if he got grumpy you would just pull out the puppy dog eyes until he relented.)

Using some magnets you pin various torn out notebook papers to the whiteboard. It isn't quite like the movies where they use push pins and red sting but well- that would be inconvenient for your purposes anyway.

Face furrowed in deep concentration you stare at the board as if doing so for long enough would solve all your problems.

“Are you still planning?” A familiar voice rings out beside you, your fellow girl scout and current best friend, Alexis. She sits on a beanbag, sipping on soda as she stares at your mess of plans. You frown, clearly she wouldnt understand the intricacies of how important this was. After all, she already had her Birbe badge.

A perk she got of being the one to make the things, meant that the first year they were implemented, she got to sell to Birdie with no competition.

(You remember standing on the sidelines and watching her turn and hand Birde a box of peanut butter patties with a smug look on her face. It had been painful to have to stand there with your fellow troop members.)

The rewards were worth the sacrifice however, because now there's more at stake than the bragging rights of selling to everyone's favorite teacher. Now, you get an unofficial badge for it, made every year by the crafty hands of Alexis.

This year’s is sitting just over there on the coffee table, nearly finished. All it's missing is the border around the bird in the center, mostly because Alexis ran out of the thread she needed and has yet to ask her grandmother for more.

You sigh, grumbling out something as you continue to stare at the board.

She shakes her head and goes back to playing Minecraft on her older cousin's well loved Xbox. Trying not to die by the hands of a spider, she says, “Look- if you’re so serious about it why not just find a way through Goose?” You frown more, shaking your head. As much as you do get along well with your pappy’s favorite customer…

“Nope, not possible. Birdie’s friends are banned ever since Moon started complain’ bout it… Plus after Jordans stunt last year of getting in the good graces of Birdie’s momma- we aren't allowed to do stuff like that.” You explain, using a marker to scribble out more ideas and add to your current map of where Birdie might be when you all get access to the cookies.

She tends to be out during it, likely to make it harder for people to earn their badge by camping out on her front porch.

How she knew when you all got the first cookie shipments, you weren't sure. Probaby Moon. Yeah- definitely Moon.

“Besides,” you continue, switching your marker to a purple color, “Even if I did- that wouldn't be me selling to Birdie- it would be me selling to Goose. So it don’t count.”

She hums, “Tough luck.” You sigh dejectedly, nodding. She finally kills the spider and then turns to you, from the depths of her very filled pockets she fishes out a lollipop. She offers it to you like she's offering you a hit after a stressful day at your 9 to 5.

Gratefully, you take it, green apple, nice.

“Well, I wish ya the best of luck. If you fail, offers open to go selling with me later.” You nod, waving her off, “Mhm… i reckon ill get it this year though.”

She shrugs, pointing to the nearly finished badge which sits a few feet away. “Well, if you do, then that badge is as good as yours.”

You stare at it longingly, vowing to yourself that this year you would finally-

———————————————

“You didn't do it did you?”

You frown, a sour look on your face as you try and fix your now messed up braids. Alexis sits beside you, the two of you back in her grandmother's basement. She's got a bag of frozen peas against your jaw, trying to prevent the bruise you know is coming. You say nothing, instead just sitting there with a pout, normally you wouldn't be this upset but…

“So who did manage it this year?” She asks, leaving you to hold the peas while she goes to grab the first aid kit under the coffee table.

“Susie May.”

Alexis bumps her head on the table as she pops up, looking surprised. “Again?” She sounds as incredulous as you are upset.

“Yeah!” You cry angrily, throwing your free hand up.

She whistles, walking over to you and tending to your scraped up knees. It's something that happens so often you don't really feel it, but both you and Alexis know that if your parents, or her grandma, sees you all banged up and bruised, they won't be happy. “How’d she manage that?” She inquires, cleaning your scrapes and pulling out bandages.

“Playing fuckin’ dirty thats how.” You parents would also not be very happy with your use of swears but it's just Alexis and you right now. Plus you are rather pissed off at the manner in which Susie happened to win the race this year.

“Yeah I can see that…” Alexis mumbles, taking in your dusty clothes, frazzled hair, and scraped up knees. You decide to make it worse by opening your mouth and showing how your tooth is now loose and barely hanging on by a thread. It's a baby tooth, luckily, but still.

Alexis blinks, “How in the hell-?”

“She pulled on my braids just as I was about to get there. I tried to not fall but sending all my weight forward meant when she let go-”

“-You fell flat on your face?”

You nod, grumbling under your breath. The reason you're so upset is because well- Susie May already has her badge. And she was also the one to sell cookies to Birdie last year. Which means this is her third time selling.

The general polite thing to do after getting your badge is to either A) back out of the race to sell entirely, or B) if you’re gonna participate, give it a year or two after you earned your badge, then continue with much less vigor.

Alexis seems rather irritated herself, grumbling about how she's not gonna make a badge for someone who already has one.

There wouldn't be a point, plus it's such a waste of her time and supplies. And because Birdie only buys a box from the first girl scout to reach her- that means no one gets a badge this year.

Safe to say the troop is not gonna be happy about this. Not one bit. And you are eagerly awaiting the next time you all meet up and Alexis gets to break to everyone that the reason no one gets a badge this year is thanks to Susie.

After Alexis has finished patching you up, you huff, resting your chin in your hands as you drop the pea bag.

“Well- that was a bust.” Alexis says with a sympathetic shrug, flashing the Birdie badge, “Guess you’ll get it next year.”

You groan, flopping over to lay on the beanbag. She in turn, grabs her own girl scout sash and uniform, “Well since you failed-” You glare at the reminder to which she puts her hands up in surrender- “Since you…didn't get it. You wanna go with me to try and outsell her?”

You think it over but it really isn’t a hard decision, “Alright. But we’re stoping at pappy’s place, i need to fix my braids.”

“Cant you just do it yourself?”

“Yeah but he can do it with ribbons and considering Susie's got the Cherry with her, we’re gonna need some extra charm.”

Alexis pulls a face, “Since when does Cherry hang out with Susie May of all people?”

You shrug, waiting for your friend to finish getting ready. “Dunno. Though, I'm kinda hoping Cherry finds out what happened and punches her.” Out of your little trio of friends, Cherry could hit the hardest. She was smaller and shorter than both you and Alexis, and looked like a little angel, (hence why you and Alexis used her to make a bunch of sells), but you both knew she was a proper troublemaker.

Course- none of the adults did, which made things very useful for both her, you, and Alexis whenever you three decided to get into trouble.

Alexis grumbles, a bit upset by the news, understandable, she didn't have many friends other than you and Cherry so she probably wasn't taking the news that Cherry was hanging out with someone else very well. You decided to make it your mission to cheer both yourself and her up.

“It's alright, I reckon we can handle it without her.”

———————————————

“You sure we’ll even find anyone out here?” Alexis asks, skeptical. Fair,

considering the two of you have been riding your bikes for a while now.

You nod, reaffirming for what feels like the hundredth time, “Mhm! Look I'm telling ya- I saw some newcomers at Pappys shop a few days ago! And they certainly ain't in town, which means they gotta be out here somewhere.”

She frowns, “This doesn't feel worth it though.”

You shrug, “Well we already got everyone in town that we could for now, and they aren't gonna want any more cookies till at least a week so…”

She makes a face, knowing you’re right. “Fineeee. But once we find a house and sell we’re leaving. If we don't then we might not be back before dark.”

She glances up at the sky and you scoff, “You’re such a worry wart. We’ll be fineeee.”

She raises her eyebrow, “That's what you said last time and we ended up having to race home.”

You pull your lips into a thin line, and before she can say anything else, you see a ranch in view. “Oh look! A place let's go-!” You say quickly, racing ahead and leaving her to quickly pedal after you.

You stop on the road and hop off your bike, tugging your basket of girl scout cookies off the backseat. Alexis does the same, unclipping her helmet and letting it hang on her bike handle. “Huh, those horses are big as hell.” She comments, making you turn your head to see the draft horses.

You are overtaken with the urge to ride one of them, if only to be able to see how high up you would be.

Alexis cuts you off before you can even consider, “Don't even think about it. Your momma would be pissed if you tried.”

You huff, of course you weren't gonna try. That would just be a plain stupid idea, you have no idea what temperament those horses have. Still would be cool if you could though. “Whatever, let's go!” You run off towards the house, leaving your friend to scramble after you.

In the process you accidentally trip over something, but as per usual you simply get up and keep going. When Alexis does finally catch up to you, shes huffing and holding up something small and light in her free hand. The other is gripping onto her cookie basket. She calls your name and then suddenly stops, looking past you at…

Huh. That guy’s nearly as big as his horses. Once more you are overcome with a similar urge to ride on his shoulders. He kinda looks familiar actually…

Alexis comes up to your side, fussing over you and you quickly realize why. There's blood in your mouth, and that's when you realize the thing she's holding just so happens to be one of your front two teeth.

The big man seems even more concerned by the sight of blood, he slings the shotgun he was holding over his back and awkwardly bends down to you speaking in what you assume is german. “Geht es dir gut, Kleiner?” He talks weirdly soft for such a big fella.

At the absolute blank look you give him he blinks, and then translates, “Are you alright?”

“Oh uhhhhh” You ponder the question, are you? Yeah, mostly anyway. You can't feel any pain, but the taste of blood isn't exactly something you enjoy and its quickly overtaking your mouth. You spit to the side, smile, then give him a thumbs up with your free hand. However, when you’re missing a tooth and your teeth are stained with blood- it doesn't serve to reassure him.

Alexis takes hold of your shoulders and pries your mouth open, (in the process temporarily setting down her cookies), looking at the gap in your teeth intently to make sure you’re alright.

She frowns and turns to the big fellow- (who oddly enough seems more nervous of her than she is of him, he stiffens) -with a scowl. She isn't meaning too, you know, she just happens to have a resting bitch face, but the man doesn't know that. “Can we borrow your sink?”

The man seems to clearly have questions, namely why the hell you’re here, until he notices your sashes. “Pfadfinderinnen...?” He mumbles to himself, then upon being blankly stared at by the unwavering gaze of Alexis he nods, guiding the two of you to the house.

Not by leading you there, but rather by standing behind you and ushering the two of you forward like you were little mice. Mice that bite apparently, because despite ushering you forward he keeps a wide berth, as if scared to get too close and frighten you.

(Which you thought was strange considering out of you and Alexis, he was the more nervous one.)

Normally you wouldn't care too much about your missing tooth. Cause well- now you could get some extra pocket money from the tooth fairy! But right now, you do wanna go inside and rinse out your mouth. As much as you could suck up the taste of your own blood- you would rather not pedal all the way home with it. Also you wanna get a good look at where your tooth is missing. Plus maybe you could pull sympathy points and get this guy to buy a bunch a’ cookies, considering you tripped on his property, It was worth a shot.

He seems so weirdly familiar, that you can't help but stare. Oddly enough, this only makes him even more awkward. Does he recognize you? Once the three of you are inside, before Alexis can shove you off to the bathroom mirror and sink, you bluntly say, “Do I know you? You’re weirdly familiar…”

You frown, trying to figure out where you've seen him before. He stiffens but before he can respond, Alexis is pulling you into his restroom. Predictably, the counters are built for him and therefore tall as fuck, so she has to help you climb up there so you can comfortably rinse your mouth out without struggle. Now sitting on the countertop, blood washed down the drain, you inspect your mouth.

“Hahah! Alexis look- look-!” You say excitedly, pointing to the gap to which she just sighs. You turn on her, leaning forward excitedly, “Wait-! Wait wait wait- did you get my tooth?”

She looks at you blankly, saying your name.

“...Yeah?”

“Of course I picked up the tooth, why wouldn't i?” She fishes it out of her pocket, accidentally pulling out various random strings and threads it was tangled in. In the process, pulling out a few pebbles and other assorted nicknacks. They clatter to the ground but she pays them no mind.

You hold both your hands out for her to place the tooth in your open palms. It's covered in blood, dirt, and pocket lint.

“Its beautiful.” You say with a large grin to which she nods seriously, “How much you think I'll get for it???” There's excitement in your tone.

She ponders for a moment, “Well- for my first one I got 15 dollars. My first front one was worth a pretty penny too… I heard that Maxie got 20 for his first tooth.” She shrugs, you both grin, matching smiles that say, ‘Oh we are so going to the candy shop later.’

You hop off the counter and then the two of you are speaking to each other in hushed but excited tones, leaning into each other and swinging your baskets. When you walk back into the living room, you find the man awkwardly standing there. It's then you nudge Alexis.

(Mostly because she doesn't get to make sales often, she never was very good at talking to people. Some could say her personality was an acquired taste, she was blunt and awkward, however, luckily for her, the man in front of you both seemed even more awkward.)

(Typically cherry made all the sales, and if not her, than you. So- you wanted to give Alexis a chance to shine.)

“Oh yeah.” She blinks and then turns to the man.

“Uh- Hey mister.” She looks him directly in his eyes, he seems uncomfortable at the direct attention. “You want cookies?”

He blinks.

She blinks.

“...Cookies?”

“Yup.”

…The man is silent after that. So is Alexis. They both just stare at each other awkwardly. Well, you were proud of her for trying and that's all that mattered-! “Sure.” Wait what? That worked?

Alexis blinks, seemingly just as surprised as you. She shuffles with her cookie basket, “Okay.” She says, and then more silence ensues. You nudge her gently and she kickstarts again, “Uh- what flavor do you want?”

“What is good?” He inquires, tilting his head slightly to which Alexis looks at you at the same time you look at her. The two of you share a glance with meaning behind it. And then you’re pulling out boxes and doing what you did best: talking.

With your sales pitch, combined with the genuine occasional comments of Alexis, you end up talking for a whole 20 minutes. By the time you are finished, the man now has an armful of different cookie boxes. Everytime he would so much as make any sort of positive comment, or hum or “I see…” Alexis would silently bring him that flavor and hold it up to him. Too awkward to refuse, he simply took each box.

“Uh- kleines Mädchen- you gave me two of this one…” He says almost timidly at Alexis while you ramble about Trefoils. She stares up at him, unblinking.

“That ones my favorite.” She says simply, as if that explains everything. Konig can't find himself to protest against her absolute deadpan as she settles the box of Adventurfuls in his arms with the rest.

At some point he sat down in his armchair, making it much easier for Alexis to slowly yet surely add to the growing pile of cookies he holds.

“-It's a classic, these are based off of the original girl scout cookie recipe! You just gotta try em Mister- i mean the texture is just to die for-” You let Alexis take the Trefoils from your hands and replace it with a box of thin mints. She slowly and calmly goes to add the Trefoils to the pile.

“Oh! Now this one- lemme tell ya Mister- this is like the girl scout cookie, everyone loves a good thin mint!”

You don't even have to say more about that one before Alexis takes it and puts in his arms, patting the top of the box gently. Then she walks back over to you and holds her basket in both her hands, silent. She's pulling out a sheet of paper from her basket, and a pencil from her pocket, scribbling away as you finish your spiel.

“-And that concludes all the flavors!” He blinks, looking relieved to finally be free, alas you continue, “-Lets see for all that, that’a be…”

You turn towards Alexis who was calculating on her paper and cuts in with a casual, “372 dollars and 46 cents.”

To your delight, he simply shuffles, careful not to let any of the boxes fall as he dejectedly gets his wallet. He pulls out four 100 dollar bills and softly tells you to keep the change, you and Alexis’s eyes are wide as you stare at the money now in your hands. The two of you share a glance and then with your sweetest (now gap toothed) smile, you thank him.

Then with hardly any more words you and Alexis book it out of there, waving goodbye and leaving him stunned. Alexis is just staring at the money with wide, amazed eyes and you are excitedly chatting her ear off.

“Look at that! I can't believe you managed to get such a good sale- oh my god Cherry is gonna flip! You probably got us halfway to our quota already-!”

“I… I did that?” She says in slight amazement, technically you both did, but you'll let your friend have the win on this one.

“Yeah!”

“Yeah…” She says, a small smile growing on her face as you playfully shove her.

“See- i told you this would be worth it.”

She blinks and then looks very concerned all of a sudden. She says your name with a growing horror. You tilt your head, urging her to continue. She gestures to the sun which is starting to fade. Shit. And then the two of you end up frantically pedaling back to town, panickedly laughing all the way. It isn't until you are home and in bed that you remember why the large fellow was so familiar.

He's the guy you threatened to ban from your Pappy's shop a month ago!

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cactusnymph · 7 months

Note

plsplspls beggnig for more wyllachstarion theyr like crack to me 😩😩😩 can you do the spooning

Karlach is way too excited for the night to play hard to get with Astarion who spends the rest of the day pretending that he's aloof and not interested in touching her, as if he didn't try to seduce her on their second night together at camp.

Then of course he tried it with Wyll and it also didn't work because Wyll is such a gods damned romantic. And now Astarion is over by his tent, drinking whine and reading a book while definitely not looking over at them. Not even a little bit.

Karlach adores his adorable pouting face so fucking much, it's giving her cuteness aggression.

She's sitting with Wyll—he's sitting between her legs so she can hug him from behind and put her chin on his shoulder. Karlach is brimming with so much joy that she doesn't really know where to put it. This is literally the best thing. She is hugging her boyfriend and she can kiss his cheek without giving him burn marks and he's leaning against her as he throws a ball for Scratch who keeps excitedly bringing the ball back to them.

Karlach thinks she could die happy right now.

Well, it would be even better if Astarion was over here as well, but she's sure that he'll come around at some point and there's no sense in pushing him round. It takes time and Karlach understands.

Yes, she wants to go fast, fast, fast, but she gets that not everyone can go as fast and burn as quickly as her. For now Karlach can revel in how Wyll's skin feels against hers, how his hair tickles her cheek, how soft Scratch's fur feels under her fingers whenever she touches him and how exhilarating it is to press kisses to every inch of naked skin she can find on Wyll right now.

One of her fingers slowly makes its way along the waistline of Wyll's pants to feel the coarse hair leading from his belly button down into his pants and she can hear him suck in a breath. It makes her smile so wide.

Fuck, this is the best.

She nuzzles her face into the side of Wyll's throat and breathes in—gods, he smells so good. Like sandalwood and woody smoke. Karlach doesn't know what Astarion smells like yet, but she wants to learn. She hopes he'll let her.

When she glances over to where he's sitting his eyes are on them and gods, they're like bright burning embers, glaring holes into the two of them snuggled over there. Karlach chuckles into Wyll's skin.

"He's looking, isn't he?", Wyll asks and turns his head to press a kiss on Karlach's cheek.

"Yeah", she breathes. Wyll laughs quietly.

"Do you think he'll let us...?", Wyll asks, trailing off. Karlach hums. She doesn't want to get too hyped up about Astarion joining them for the night but man, she wants it so much. She wants to hug him, touch his hair, kiss his insane cheekbones... Fuck.

"I dunno. But fuck. I really want to."

Wyll swallows and nods slightly.

"Yeah. Yeah. Me too."

They go to bed without Astarion who keeps glaring holes into the sides of their heads the entire evening while pretending to read his book and Karlach that it wouldn't help to invite him over. Astarion is like an angry cat who needs to sniff your metaphorical hand at least a hundred times before pushing his head against you.

Karlach can wait. She can do it.

She spoons Wyll and almost cries again with how good it feels to hold him like this. There's no way she can sleep. She has to revel in how this feels. And if her arm falls asleep it doesn't matter because there's no universe in which she'll let go of Wyll.

Wyll on the other hand is fast asleep in her arms, his ass pressed against her crotch which. Well. She can live like this. She can be normal. Karlach tries to concentrate on other things instead when she hears quiet footsteps approaching the tent and then the flap is opened and cold air sweeps in.

Karlach doesn't have to turn around to know who it is.

"It's fucking cold", Astarion complains without saying hello or anything else. Karlach chuckles and gently detaches herself from Wyll who makes a soft, sleepy sound.

"Our little grumpy cat is here", Karlach whispers and Astarion huffs full of offense.

"I am not a grumpy cat", he hisses, proving her point before climbing into the space between Wyll and Karlach. Karlach can tell that this is new for him. He moves stiffly, clearly not knowing what to do or how to act which makes her heart break for him.

Gods, she will cuddle this man so fucking much. As soon as he warms up to the concept of nonsexual intimacy.

"Do you still need to drink?", Wyll asks, his voice bleary from sleep. Karlach can feel the pause in Astarion's body, the moment he thinks about this question and what it means—what it implies.

"I had a bear", he mumbles and flinches as soon as Karlach presses against him from behind, wrapping her arm around him to pull him close before doing the same with Wyll so they're all pressed together as close as possible with Astarion in the middle.

He's not moving, maybe he's scared to.

"If you want you can have some of mine tomorrow. Dunno if it tastes okay, though", Karlach offers. Astarion doesn't say anything but Karlach doesn't mind. She presses a soft kiss to the back of his neck and hears him suck in a breath.

"Alright?", she asks, not sure if she overstepped.

"It's fine", Astarion mumbles, a million underlying tones in his voice. Karlach kisses him again and again, touches his soft curls and walks her fingers up his arm. Only a few moments later his breathing evens out and Karlach smiles against his back.

Yeah, she's not going to sleep. She has to savor this for as long as it lasts her.

feel free to send me more of these <3

#kissing you with tongue anon <3333 #wyllachstarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 fic #astarion ancunin #karlach cliffgate #wyll ravengard #mi writes

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drksanctuary · 9 months

Text

NICOBASTER: Colors

A long awaited post by some! Warning: the accompanying fic while not NSFW is a bit on the mature side.

@them-awesome-rarepairs I hope this doesn’t break any rules? (But I finally posted one one time)

ALSO Special thanks to @pardon-me-what-the-fuck for brainstorming the AU with me and also a thanks to @thinkingjasico , @iridisentry @yonemurishiroku @gutsybitsies @dead-immortal and ofc @thomas-life for the tattoo ideas!

Enjoy the ficlet below!

Tattoo Parlor- One shot

Nico enters through the small side door as he has many times before. But this time it feels different. This time, his shadow magic has taken him here. He usually has shadows take him to the underworld or to Camp Jupiter where he knows Hazel or Reyna will be there for support. But he had unthinkingly travelled here. To the small tattoo parlor/Magic shop, that one might almost miss it if they were scanned the row of buildings it was in. At this odd hour of night, when he knows it will be open but empty save for the owner.

Alabaster Torrington is at the counter, leg propped up, lounging back in his seat. He looks with furrowed eyebrows at his sketch pad as he taps his lips with his pen, a stray lock of hair that appears to have escaped his messy bun falls to his clavicle,tracing the curve his neck.

Nico hadn’t been sure why he'd come to this place at the beginning, but in appreciating Al’s form, neck and lips… Nico knows why his instinct had led him here now.

More specifically, he knows which instinct had led him here.

Nico has the urge to say something to knock the guy out of his concentrated trance. But he just stands there observing him as an unassuming shadow on the wall.

Alabaster mumbles to himself and makes a definitive mark on the page before placing the sketch pad on the desk and finally looking up.

“Gah!” Alabaster exclaims.

Nico grins at him, his smile woven with mischief.

“Di immortales, Di Angelo, you want me to die of a heart attack?” Alabaster snaps.

“That’d be no good, who’s gonna finish my commission?” Nico says, the side of his mouth curling into a smirk.

Alabaster deadpans. “Glad to know my skill with magic is the only thing keeping me alive”

“Isn’t it usually?” Nico says as he hops onto the counter. He folds his arms and flashes Alabaster another shit eating grin.

Al opens his mouth to respond in the contrary, but then, upon consideration, just says “good point” he mirrors Nico’s insufferable grin and adds “you asshat.”

I’d wear your ass as hat. Nico thinks to himself before replying with “it’s nice to see you too”

“Mmhmm” Al arches eyebrow at him before turning his attention back to his sketch pad.

Nico’s nerves feel like sand pulsing through him.How does one segue into asking someone to, how to put it delicately, wreck him with pleasure. He is suddenly very aware that he has no idea how to flirt.

“So…what’re you working on?” Nico says, feeling a bit defeated at his unoriginality.

“You’re latest commission actually”

“Dragon scales?”

“That’s the one”

“Sweeet”

“It’s a tough one though, might take me a bit more time.” Al glances at the calendar. “Granted I hadn’t expected you back for it for another week. Is there a reason you’re early?”

Nico’s stomach jolts. Flirting. Exe has failed to load and he just stands there like an idiot.

“Um…”

Alabaster raises an eyebrow. The one with the piercing in it. Nico remembers thinking about how hot that piercing was when he first saw it. He thinks it’s hot now. Focus Di Angelo! He thinks to himself. Don’t just stare! Apparently thirsty.exe is running just fine. Maybe too well.

Alabaster smiles warmly at him and it ruins his focus again, as now he’s gone from staring at Al’s eyebrow to staring at his lips.

“Y-yeah, no. Just the tattoo commission …that’s why I came” Nico lies. “But if you need more time…”

“I’d certainly appreciate it” Alabaster responds, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms. “Perhaps I can help you with something else? Maybe touching up your ink-sourced tattoos?”

“My what?” Nico says, and instantly regrets how stupid he sounds. He had been only half paying attention as Al crossing his arms had accented his biceps and Nico had been checking them out.

“Ink sourced tattoos?” Alabaster says. “The ones that don’t draw energy from you directly, just from the ink itself.”

Nico smiles dumbly.

“Your failsafes?” Alabaster gestures to Nico’s jacket clad biceps.

Nico is slightly impressed that Alabaster remembers where all of his tattoos are. He has so many. But Nico supposes that it’s because Al works so hard on them that he remembers.

“Oh” Nico says, not hesitating at all to take his shirt off. “Sure. If you could”

It’s Alabaster’s turn to be distracted. No matter how much he’d worked on that torso he still very much enjoys the sight of it. His skin is soft between scars and his chest is beautifully muscled. He looks like the kind of demigod Ancient Greek sculpturists might use as a reference. Alabaster has, more than once, had to suppress the urge to lick those muscles when he got too close. How very unprofessional of him.

But he also enjoys Nicos company. He forces himself to focus on that instead. The son of Hades often tells him the stories attached to each meaningful Tattoo he has. AL loves hearing about adventures and meaningful events in Nico’s life. It was a life he’d left behind. Heroes never die, he thinks bitterly, but they do, however, fade into the background. Perhaps that’s the best way to keep people alive. He shakes his head and turns on his equipment.

Alongside Nico’s tattoos are scars that serve a similar function. The scars tell of battles fought. Of Battles not easily won. Battles endured for selfish Olympians who didn’t deserve Nico’s help. When Nico visits, he tells Al all about them too (sometimes needing some emergency healing as well). But that’s just fine. He’s not going to be callous about demigod life just because his side lost the war. Doing so would make him no better than the negligent Olympians he despises.

Besides, Alabaster is good at providing what Nico needs. Alabaster briefly wonders if those needs include…something more than healing. Something more than the niceties they go through. Something more than the conversations they have as friends.

Alabaster unmindfully traces his fingertips along one of the scars on Nico’s arms. Enjoying the sensation of Nicos skin against his fingertips until Nico tenses under the scrutiny.

“Sorry” Al says, “does it hurt?”

“Oh, -uh nope” Nico’s says hoping he’s not blushing. It doesn’t hurt at all. It feels really good but he can’t just say that….can he?

“Oh good ‘cause I was gonna say…” Alabaster says as he starts the tattoo pen “this is probably going to”

Nico smirks “I’m ready”

Alabaster works expertly. Nico can’t help but watch. Al’s non-pen hand is gentle as it supports his arm but exerts full and firm control over him when necessary; moving Nico’s arm into whatever position it needs to go. Nico hopes those hand skills are transferable to…other things.

“So…” Nico starts “I don’t usually hear a lot about you.”

Alabaster glances up at him. Nico’s eyes aren’t interrogating, only inquisitive. Calm down Torrington, war is long since over no need to be paranoid. Besides it’s Nico he’s….good.

“Listening is easier than multitasking by talking and working, but” he moves Nico’s arm so he can work at a different angle. “I suppose there’s also not much to say…I don’t go on as many adventures as you do”

“But you do go”

“On occasion, to find the odd potion ingredient, magical object or what not”

“Nice, like with this one?” He points to snake tattoo on his wrist.

“Ha, yeah…anything for my favorite customer” Alabaster says with a wink.

Nico again hopes he isn’t blushing “It was worth the extra I paid for it” Nico grins. “I’ve used it at least 3 times since I got it. Constantly saves my ass”

It’s certainly an Ass worth saving Alabaster thinks to himself and he smiles. How lecherous of him. Though did he see a slight blush in Nico’s cheeks when he called him his favorite ? Perhaps he imagined it.

Nico sees the slight grin, and assumes Al is smiling with pride, it’s a subtle smile but Nico notices it just the same. Maybe he can flirt. Or…well, maybe Al was just being polite.

“That should do it” Alabaster says, placing a healing rune index card on Nico’s arm and activating it.

“I am so glad that I don’t have to wait a normal amount of time for the tattoos to heal” Nico says with a sigh as the glow from the card fades and takes the pain with it.

“Magic is truly magical isn’t it?” Al says. His eyes glow slightly as he says it.

Nico hums in the affirmative more entranced by the glow than he’d ever admit. Or was it just those eyes? Nico’s not sure.

Alabasters gaze lingers on Nico’s lips . He saw the slight tint of green shine off of the white gold piercing. He suppresses the urge to kiss it.

“So… what about you?no stories today?” Alabaster asks. Clearly he needs to take his mind elsewhere. It didn’t do to have it be in the gutter when there is a client present. No matter how hot the client is. No matter how he looked at him with beautiful black, inquisitive eyes that seemed to eat up the light around them. Hungry for sights. Perfect eyes for a patron of a tattoo parlor. Perfect eyes for a son of Hades. Perfect eyes.

“Umm… I’ve actually mostly just been helping train some of the younger campers.” Nico says. Knocking Al’s mind back into the present and not the ethereal plane on which he was waxing poetic about Nico di Angelo’s fricking eyes. Not like they’d ever be for him anyway. Alabaster has to remind himself that he is just an exile forced to work the fringes of human and demigod boarders to muster up a living. Children of the big three did not regard such demigods like that. But Nico did always treat him respectfully. It was a low bar, but Nico far surpassed it. He likes that about him.

“That’s good” Alabaster says with a nod. And he does not add any comment about the camp even though the anger still burns within him. The Olympian safe haven…only safe for those who comply. But-

“There’s this 10 year old child of Themis who was attacked by an empousa at the courthouse”

“Hehe I imagine that’s where a lot of those blood suckers work” Al says with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s what I said!” Nico says with a laugh, unconsciously putting his hand on Al’s.

As cheesy as it sounds, Al feels a spark. It’s not a sudden jolt of electricity or his heart skipping a beat. It’s more like, an unexpected tingling sensation. Like being tickled. He’s tempted to hold Nico’s hand as it lingers but Nico retracts it before he can.

“Um…but anyway I’ve been training him with a sword, and he likes to call

It his ‘blade of Justice’ so that’s pretty cool” Nico’s blood rushes to his ears. He know firsthand how it felt to be touched unexpectedly. He mentally berates himself for doing it.

“Pretty cool” Al nods, and this time his response is genuine. He wants to curse himself for how he’d almost got lost in dwelling in the past again. But he is grateful to Nico for reminding him why the camp is good. Or at least better than it was for those minor gods children. It’s not the life he’d fought against Olympus for, but it was still better than what he’d had. He’s happy they have a home.

They belong there with a hero like Nico who can keep them safe in his capable hands. As he’s thinking it Al find’s himself reaching for those hands again. What was the matter with him?

He holds Nico’s hand before he can stop himself and is surprised when Nico doesn’t retract it again. He traces the skin of Nico’s hand that not obscured by the gloves, before looking up at him again.

“It’s good they have you to care for them” Alabaster says, voice soft but still deep and solid.

It makes Nico shiver. He knows Alabaster’s past. Minor gods’ children used to not have a place at camp. And if they did it was shoved into the Hermes Cabin.

“Well yeah..Demigods only really have each other in the end, right?”Nico says

Alabaster meets Nico’s eyes, something stirring within him. He’d said the exact same thing to Ethan back when…back during the Titan war. It was almost as if he was repeating Al’s own words to him. Maybe it’s something Al has said to Nico in the past without thinking it. Or maybe…maybe Nico just believes it. Maybe he and Al’s feeling on that matter align.

“Right” Alabaster says softly with a squeeze of reassurance to the hand that he is holding.

Nico’s heart flutters a little.

Alabasters eyes capture him, they engage him with such scrutiny. Thinking a million things at once, but at the same time…focused on one goal at a time.

“Like I said,.” Nico says “you and your tattoos save my ass all the time”

“Again, You’re welcome” Al says the side of his lips curling into a smirk. This time he gambles. With Nico’s hand in his own,he stands and leans in close, his face inches from Nico’s own their gazes still locked., “it’s…certainly an ass worth saving.”

Nico’s breath catches at the proximity. And Alabaster’s tone was…suggestive? Sensual even. Yes.

“Is that right” Nico starts, so glad he doesn’t have to give the cue, only take it. “Well…maybe you could…do more than just save it?” he says in a breathy whisper. His eyes trailing to look at Al’s lips, and then right back into those glowing eyes. He parts his own lips inviting Al to make the first move.

Al’s heartbeat quickens as he leans in to close the distance between their lips. This time it is a like an electric shock. A surge of sensation between the two of them. They both melt into it. Their breaths becoming heavier as the kiss deepens.

Nico’s mind becomes hazy and his body takes over, finally bringing to the fore, those urges he hadn’t been aware he was suppressing. He grasps at Al’s shirt with wild abandon and pulls him close, sucking on Alabasters bottom lip.

Al’s hand cards through Nico’s hair and pulls it. Asserting some control.

Nico moans and Alabaster notes the reaction. Mmm seems he likes that.

Nico tries to say Alabaster’s name but his voice just vibrates through their mouths as empty noise. He wants to be pulled again. He wants to be pushed. He…wants.

Alabaster can feel the cold of Nico’s lips ring, but the rest of Nico’s mouth is warm and inviting. And the sounds he makes are intoxicating. Al pushes Nico down against the chair with his upper body and positions his lower between Nico’s legs. Nico lets put a pleasured gasp before Alabaster reconnects their lips in haste. He plunges his tongue into Nico’s mouth, sliding it along the front of his teeth before delving further.

Nico moans again before meeting Al’s tongue with his own. Wrestling it. Prodding it. Trying to reach Al’s teeth.

Nico’s fingers move in a frenzy along Al’s back grasping cloth and scraping skin. It’s intoxicating.

When they finally release the frantic kiss Al stays close, both of them breathless, eyes locked with one another’s

“I’ve…wanted to do that for a while now” Alabaster admits

“Yeah?” Nico says. He gives it some thought. “Me too” he realizes.

“D’you-“

“Yes”

Alabaster chuckles “I didn’t finish my question”

Nico smirks “Yesssssss” he says again in a warm breath against Alabaster’s ear, tugging at Al’s shirt to cement his desire.

Alabaster shivers. “Let’s go to my place.”

*****

#nico di angelo #alabaster torrington #alabaster c torrington #pjo #percy jackson #nicobaster #heroes of olympus #son of magic #Shadowmagic #pjorarepairs2023 #pjorarepairweek2023 #blink and you’ll miss the Ethan reference

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footprintsinthesxnd · 8 months

Text

The Good Die Young

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Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+, swearing. Pairings: Jake Seresin × f!reader. Disclaimer: This is a series reflecting on the true events of the US Marines in WW2. All of the characters are fictional and not based off are original characters (except for Jake Seresin) and they are not representations of the real, brave men who fought in WW2. I have tried to make all the events in this series as accurate as possible but please bare in mind this is fanfiction and i have added/ changed certain things to fit with this.

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Melbourne, August 1943

“I swear to God, if I have to take one more step I’m gonna shoot myself,” Edward whined, his pack slipping further down his back and his knees sinking to the floor despite their orders to continue marching.

“Get up, Mary. Come on we can’t rest yet,” Jake hauled his fellow Marine up so he was standing against him, supporting him around his waist and hauling him forward, ignoring the protest from the boy at his distasteful nickname. That boy was far from a virgin anymore, not with all the women he’d spent time with in Melbourne. They had fallen behind their original group but with the blisters Jake was suffering from he hadn’t minded the slower pace with Edward.

“Just a little further now,” Jake pointed to the distance where he could see a group of Marines stopping to make camp for the night. “Just up on that ridge and then we can stop, I promise.”

Edward groaned but nodded, standing to support himself a little more. He swung his Springfield disdainfully over his shoulder, he was still upset that the M1 Garand he’d scrounged from the army supplies had been confiscated and instead replaced with his original Springfield. Jake recalled the lectures of ‘it's lightweight and ammunition capacity is far better than this fucking shit’ Edward had complained nearly every night since they’d docked in Melbourne.

It felt like they were back in boot camp, how Melbourne was meant to be restful Jake didn’t know. The only good thing that had come from his time here was Y/n. He’d spent nearly every night and any time he could in the day with her, sneaking out of the stadium and walking the three blocks to her small apartment, where she would greet him with open arms, food on the table and a warm bed to share. He hummed fondly at the thought of her sitting behind her desk, fingers hammer nimbly on the typewriter, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth as she concentrated. Jake didn’t like to admit it to his fellow Marines but he’d found love in the city of Melbourne and for however long they would be there he intended to cherish it.

George looked up as Jake’s shadow appeared beside him, “finally decided to join us then, Cowboy.” He smirked as Jake shoved him playfully.

“Yeah well I got stuck with the invalid Virgin Mary over there,” he pointed to where Edward was silently crying as he eased his boots from his bleeding feet, large purple bruises and shining blisters littered his ankles and heels. George snorted in response, revealing his own sore feet. “Guess we aren’t so lucky to have new boots after all.

“Here boys, fresh chow,” Frank pushed two plates of steaming rice towards them.

“Great, more fucking rice,” George pushed the rice around his plate, his features miserable as he gazed upon the grey beads.

“Hey don’t you go complaining,” Frank snapped. “A Jap soldier can live on one sack of rice and one sack of raisins for three weeks. No wonder they’re thrashing us.” The others nodded in agreement, all falling silent under their Sergeant’s gaze.

“So…” Jake began, testing the waters cautiously. “How’s that lovely young lady of yours, Frank?”

Frank eyed him suspiciously but upon spotting no malice in his question he replied. “Fern’s good, she sure is a beauty. I can’t remember the last time I felt so happy.” The men nodded in agreement, all having found a pretty young girl to spend time with in Melbourne, all except George who was staying faithful to his fiancé despite his friend's protests.

“How’s your lady friend, Jake?” Johnny chimed in, falling with a thud beside Jake with an exhausted sigh.

“Yeah, she’s good,” Jake replied nonchalantly, grimacing at the jeers from the man beside him.

“Yeah right! What are you two at it like every night? We barely see you anymore.”

Jake nodded, his cheeks growing increasingly red and his friends laughed.

“No, things are going well. I really like her, maybe even love her,” he admitted, he averted his gaze, picking at the flaking leather of his once new and shiny boots. “I’m gonna ask her to marry me.”

“WHAT?!” Came a chorus of rushed questions, all their voices blurring into one.

“Well, well, well, ‘Mr I’m Too Cool For Marriage’ wants to settle down,” George joked, grinning wickedly as he repeated what Jake had told him in boot camp and Jake had to admit that it was a sudden change. He’d never felt like this before about anyone but with Y/n he wanted to do better, to be better. He wouldn’t admit it but it scared him, to suddenly feel this dependent on another person.

“Well, as long as he makes me the best man at his wedding I don't care who he marries,” Edward called, finally making his way to the group and slumping down in the sand.

“Take a number mate, if anyone's gonna be his best man it's gonna be me,” George protested and Jake had to agree that out of everyone George would be his choice but he wasn't about to start a fight.

“I've only known her six months, I’m not about to ask her to marry me,” Jake lied, the weight of the silver engagement ring heavy in his uniform pocket, he had to resist the urge to pat it to make sure it was still there.

“Suit yourself,” Edward eyed him curiously, his dark eyes boring into Jake’s chest as if he knew his secret.

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The walk back to Melbourne was slow and painful but all the Marines would admit that they had never been so pleased to see the stadium. Jake sank onto the hard mattress with a groan, he hadn’t slept here in several months, instead choosing Y/n warmth and comfort over the sticky, mosquito-ridden stadium and the smell of sweet from his fellow Marines.

“I'm going to sleep for a week,” George moaned, his now shirtless chest heaving with a heavy sigh as he buried his head beneath his pillow.

“Couldn’t we all,” Edward confessed, prying his damn socks away from the open wounds on his feet, large, raw sores covered the young man’s soles, the socks pulling with them the dead skin and Jake grimaced as he watched Edward squeeze another blister. Before the war, Jake thought that one blister on his heel from new shoes was bad enough but this was something else. It’s amazing the kind of suffering and agony the human body can endure when it has to. Jake stood, stretching painfully as his joint clicked and cracked, he suddenly felt old.

“Where are you off to?” George asked, his arm slung over his eyes, shielding them from the midday sun.

“I'm going to see Y/n.”

“You mean to tell me that after all we’ve just been through you still have sex on the brain. Jesus, I’d have thought you at least wanted to get some sleep first,” George looked at him judgmentally, his eyebrows pinched together.

“We don't just have sex you know,” Jake snapped, shaking his head. “I've missed her, I want to spend some time with her and I know she'll take pity on me and run me a nice bath.”

His friends called out their protests, wanting to join him for a bath of their own but Jake just laughed, waving over his shoulder as he crossed the field and onto the Main Street.

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Jake knew the walk to Y/n house like the back of his hand, and yet he still felt nervous butterflies dancing in his stomach every time. Today was different though, today he was going to admit something to her that he had never admitted to any woman before her. He was in love with her and after the war he wanted them to be married.

Jake stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Y/n sitting on the front steps, tears flowing freely down her face. “Y/n? Hey Doll, what happened?” Jake hurried towards her, his hands landing immediately on her shoulders as he pulled her closer, no longer worried about the smell of sweat and grime from the last few days. “Y/n?” He asked again, this time earning a small whine of protest as she tried to pull away from him.

“Y/n, please talk to me. What happened?”

“You need to go,” Y/n stood abruptly, sending Jake backwards before he caught himself and stood beside her. “You’ve caused nothing but trouble and you need to leave. NOW!”

Jake had never seen Y/n like this, she was always so calm and collected and yet this outburst seemed to have come from nowhere. They had been so good recently. Just days before Jake had taken her on a trip down to the coast, they’d had lunch in a secluded rocky cove, where between each mouthful of food Jake was either laughing or kissing her. Y/n had been so happy.

“Darling, if I’ve done something wrong please tell me. I know I’ve been away for a few days but I swear to you if I could I would never leave you. Never.” Jake was desperate now, he’d never begged a woman before but he was begging now. Outside on the steps of Y/n’s house he was down on his knees begging. To anyone who walked past it looked like an American Marine was proposing to an Australian girl, which wasn’t an uncommon sight really, but something in Jake’s heart snapped when he looked up at the broken girl who stood before him.

“I’m pregnant,” Y/n whispered without moving, her eyes still fixed on the grassy verge beside the steps.

Jake felt his heart drop, they had always been safe, always used protection. Why was this happening to them?

“What?” He gulped out, his throat was dry and tight as if some invisible force was trying to suffocate him.

“I’m pregnant,” Y/n repeated, her teary eyes now watching him, waiting for him to say something. Jake bit his tongue, there was nothing he could say. What is done is done and now they have to deal with the consequences. He wasn’t sure how long he had stayed quiet but Y/n spoke up again, her voice shaking.

“It’s alright, I don’t expect you to marry me or anything. I know you have a whole life back in the States and I was just something to pass the time. We’ll be okay on our own... Goodbye, Jake. Good luck.”

Jake had never felt so helpless. It was as if his body was working against him, he couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe. His eyes followed Y/n as she disappeared into the house, closing the door with what felt like a heart-crushing thud. Jake was left alone on the steps, tears trickling silently down his cheeks. His hand gripped the front of his shirt, trying to stop the pain. For a moment he thought he was having an attack of some kind, he’d heard of people whose hearts had failed and they were left withering in agony but this was a different kind of pain. It felt as though she had just torn his heart from his chest and Jake wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover.

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“Frank, you old dog. I didn’t think you had it in you,” Johnny jested, ducking to avoid the canteen aimed at his head as Frank shouted a string of profanities at the corporal.

“Hey Cowboy, you’ve missed all the action. Our Frankie boy here just got engaged to that sweet girl Fern. Can you believe it?” Johnny called out as Jake approached the group. He looked up glumly at his comrades.

“No way, congrats Frank.”

“Congrats yourself. How did you fuck up this time?” Frank questioned, his eyebrow raised as he festered towards Jake.

“What?”

“How did you fuck up this time? What did Y/n not even let you past the door? Man, you stink. You better hit the showers because I’m not sleeping next to you.” Frank whined, turning his back to Jake who just collapsed on the bed beside George who Jake could only assume was writing a letter to Florence.

“She's pregnant,” Jake spoke in a hushed whisper, barely able to get the words out of his mouth.

“What did you just say?” George asked, gaining the attention of his fellow Marines once more Jake repeated himself.

“Y/n, she’s pregnant… with my baby,” he added at the end as Edward was looking at him with some doubtful confusion.

“Oh shit, Cowboy you did fuck up big time,” Johnny laughed, swigging from a bottle of god knows what that he’s scrounged from god knows where.

“No shit Corporal Dumbass, no fucking shit!” Jake cursed as he smashed his knee on the steel-framed bed. “FUCK!”

This outburst drew the attention of many of the other Marines sitting on their cots around him but Jake didn’t care, not anymore.

“Well, I’ve got some more bad news for you, Jake. We’re shipping out in 3 days so you better get your affairs in order.”

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The departure from Melbourne was far less glamorous than their arrival. The Marines looked far worse for wear than when they had arrived. Many were saying goodbye to loved ones, girlfriends, wives.

Frank had left a very teary Fern at home, they had said their goodbyes that morning and she couldn’t bear to watch him leave. Frank too could be seen with red-rimmed eyes but none of his friends were about to tease him, they all felt the loss of the comforts they were to leave behind and they all knew the death and devastation that was waiting for them.

Jake sat in the wall near the ship, watching as jeeps and trucks were winched abroad, along with supplies. A small cough from behind him caused him to turn, stopping dead when he saw the tearful face that was staring back at him.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Jake asked, standing to move towards her but Y/n raised her hand in protest, causing him to stop.

“I came to say goodbye,” she replied flatly, her eyes never leaving her hand that she had raised to stop him, she couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t admit to herself what she was about to say.

“You know you’re an asshole right? You came into my life, made me feel alive and now you're swanning out of it again without any consequences.” She slammed her hands into Jake’s chest, sending him back slightly before he steadied himself. “You came here to my home and you ruined my life. You turned my world upside down and I hate you for it.” Tears began spilling down her cheeks as she sobbed out her last statement. “I hate you.”

“I know you do,” Jake replied sadly. “I never meant for any of this to happen and I swear that I don’t want to leave you.” He knew he’d hurt her even if he’d never intended to and now with her face all scrunched up and red as she cried would be the last image he ever had of her. She’d never want to see him again.

“But I love you God damn it. I fucking love you and I know it won’t be easy but I can’t help it.”

Jake’s head snapped up in confusion. Had he heard her right? (Y/n) looked up at him, tears sticking to her lashes as she did so. “I love you Jake Seresin so you make damn sure that you come back to me ok.” She grabbed ahold of his uniform's lapel, shaking him slightly as she spoke. “You promise me.”

“I promise. I promise you, Doll, I’ll come back to you. I swear it. Hell, I'd marry you right now if I could.” Jake let his hand rest tentatively on her cheek, worried that if he overstepped the mark, she would shy away from him but instead, she leaned into his touch.

“You really mean that? You want to marry me.” Y/n asked, her large, tearful eyes causing Jake’s heart to break.

“Of course I do. I love you,” Jake whispered, conscious that the men around him would tease him for it later but he needed her to know. Without a second thought, he dug his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling the small velvet box from its depth and flipping open the lid.

“So how about it, Doll? Do you think you could put up with me for the rest of our lives?”

A small squeal left Y/n lips before she jumped into his arms.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you too.” She pressed her lips firmly against his and Jake felt the weight lift from his shoulders. The kiss was lingering, letting their lips brush ever so briefly before she pulled away.

“You promise you’ll come back to us?” Her face resembled that of a small child, innocent and confused.

“I promise,” he repeated, resting his hand gently on her flat stomach. “I’ll come back for both of you.”

Jake could hear his CO shouting at him from the boat. “I have to go.” He picked up his kit bag, swinging it over his shoulder and with one last glance at (Y/n) he strode up the gangplank and onto the ship, leaving the woman he loved behind but not alone. She wouldn’t be alone anymore and as soon as he could, he would return to her.

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#the good die young #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin au #jake seresin x reader #ww2 au #jake series ww2 au #ww2 jake seresin #us marines #the pacific

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years

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The Camping Trip

Summary: The boys insist on taking you and the girls for a camping trip. Something you all despise. Andy Barber x Black!Reader, Curtis Everett x WOC!OFC, Ari Levinson x WOC!OFC

Warnings: Sexy/Worried Andy/Ari/Curtis, Daddy Kink, Difficult Reader, Difficult OFCs, Camping, Nature, Smut (implied), Spanking (implied), Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: So I have no clue of this is the start of a new series or if the result of medication, lol. Hope you enjoy. Please send feedback. Written on my phone. All mistakes my own.

“The answer is no.” Andy’s face is one of pure exasperation as he follows you from room to room.

“But it’ll be fun! I promise and -“ Your man pleads.

“No.”

District Attorney or not, this man was real close to getting poked in the eye. But knowing him, he’d probably think it was some kind of kinky foreplay.

“Well, why the hell not?” He growls.

“Argh!” You give up to trying fold kitchen towels. “Because black people don’t camp, damn it!” You huff.

Like, how did this man not know this?

“Oh, that’s ridiculous!” Andy throws his hands up. “I’m sure there a plenty of - of - of black people who enjoy the peace and calm of the wilderness.”

Your hands go to your hips. “Name three that you even know.”

Your boyfriend just blinks down at you. So you blink up at him right back.

“I don’t do nature, Andrew. Or heat. Or humidity. Okay? My ancestors fought and died for my right to enjoy the benefits of air conditioning.” You turn your nose up at him before spinning on your heel and walking away.

“And if I were you, I’d finish folding those towels and the rest of that laundry if you want any of this sweet “good good” tonight!” You call over your shoulder.

Andy stares at your retreating form, a tick forming in his jaw.

Oh, his sweet girl was going camping with him, whether she liked it or not. And she had better not try to withhold her “good good” from either.

“Tell me what she’s not gonna do.” He mumbles as he begins folding towels. “I run things around here. Not her fine ass. And another thing…”

On and on he goes as he moves on to the next bin of laundry.

Two Days Later…

You've been giving your man the silent treatment for the better part of the day.

“Baby,” he goes to rest his large, calloused hand on the soft skin of your bare knee. “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise you’re gonna have fun.”

Instead of responding, you let out a “hmph” and continue staring out the window, still unhappy with the fact that your beloved Andy had manhandled you into the car in the first place.

Handsome jerk.

“I promise you’ll be perfectly safe. Besides, it won’t just be us there. Ari's bringing Story, and Curtis and Ruby are coming along too.”

“Oh, yippie.” You grumble.

“Hey,” that same hand squeezes your thigh. “Please promise Daddy that you’re going to keep an open mind about this, okay?” His tone holds a mix of playfulness and authority.

“Yes, sir. I promise to keep an open mind in case I have to sacrifice you to a bear.”

“Huh?!”

“Wake me when we get to hell - I mean to the campsite.” And with that, you drift off to sleep. Meanwhile, Andy just shakes his head and goes back to concentrating on the road.

Andy gently nudges you awake when you finally arrive at the site. It appears the two of you are the last to get there.

Hopping out of the car, you wave at the guys before immediately striding over to Ruby and Story, who look just as happy as you are.

“Well hello, ladies. And welcome to the wonderful world of nature!” You spread your arms wide and do a little spin.

Yes, welcome to the wonderful world of poison ivy, snakes, pollen, bees, poisonous spiders, and asthma attacks.

“Fuck nature and all her deadly minions.” Ruby purses her lips and crosses her arms, clearly annoyed. “Curtis wouldn’t even let me bring my solar powered phone charger. So, I’m gonna die out here and nobody’s gonna know until they stumble upon a coyote dining on my corpse.”

“I get it girl.” You run a reassuring hand up and down her arm. “I know we’ve all seen this movie before.”

You pull some sunscreen out of your bag and begin to rub it into every inch of your exposed skin. And then you hand it off to the others so they can do the same.

“Yes, we have,” Story hisses as slaps at a random bug that lands on her neck before grabbing the sunblock. “And we don’t make it. Maybe this our men’s way of trying to kill us.”

You turn to glare at your three guys, who were currently in the process of of unloading the vehicles. “How about a little help, ladies?” Ari beckons towards your group.

“The first time I think I see, or even hear a serial killer, I’m talking Leather Face, Jason, Michael Myers - my ass is out. You had better run when I run.” You tell them as you all make your way over.

“Bet.”

“You know it.”

“Yes?” You all huff when you finally reach the boys.

“You know guys, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such pretty looking sour faces.” Curtis coos, prompting you three to glare at him. He remains unfazed.

“Me, Andy, and Ari have got the heavier stuff under control. We need you ladies to handle these smaller backpacks there. Oh, and for each of you to grab a cooler.”

Your shoulders sag as you go to grab yourselves a bag. But before you do, you and your girls proceed to douse yourself with bug spray. At the rate you were going, you’d been out here for less than forty-five minutes and you already had at least four mosquito bites.

All three men let out a sigh. “C’mon girls, we’ve got at least a good 2.5 mile hike ahead of us here, and we want to get there while we still have the sunlight in our favor.

One Hour Later…

“I am so close to divorcing Curtis Robert Everett.” An exhausted Ruby mumbles under breath. “Like, I am dreaming about filing the paperwork as soon as I get back.”

“Well, I’m moving out of Andy’s place as soon as we get back, so if you’re looking for a roommate…

“Count me in too.” Story mumbles.

“Glad we’re in agreements, ladies.” You tell them. “Hey boys, how much more time until we get there? We’ve been walking for ages!”

“Not long. But we would’ve been there already if certain members of the group hadn’t had to repeatedly stop for a break.” Ari growls as he readjustes the large pack on his back.

“Ungh! My arms are about to fall off.” Ruby whines as she struggles with her cooler, causing an annoyed Curtis to turn and snatch it from her.

“You know ladies, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we’re gonna need you all to develop a better attitude.” Andy calls back.

“I agree.” Ari chimes in.

“And I don’t know about y’all, but I’m gonna need to see soon.” Curtis grunts.

Other than letting out a collective snort, you and the girls refuse to respond. Instead you continue to pout until you finally reach your destination. Once it’s confirmed that this patch of land was going to be your campsite, you immediately set down your things with a weary huff.

“Oh thank you sweet baby Jesus.” Out of breath, you look down at your grimy hands.

“Hey!” You lightly bounce over to Andy who’s busy clearing away the brush so he can begin the process of setting up your tent. “I need to wash my hands. Where can I do that?”

“Honey, we’re out in the woods, miles from civilization. I mean, there’s a river not to too far from here. So, I can you down there later after we’re all set up.” Your boyfriend goes back to work.

Your left eye begins to twitch as your small hands ball into fists. “I refuse to wash my hands in the same body of water where sea monsters poo.” You hiss.

Trying to avoid the tantrum that he knew was surely about to happen, Andy points over to your gray and green tent, before instructing you to bring it to him, which you do.

You step back and watch him undo the straps, gives it a light shake, and bam! There was your pop-up tent. You look around to two other tents, one is black and red, while other is two different shades of blue.

“Alright,” Ari calls out. “Girls, you get the sleeping bags inside while we secure the tents to the ground.

“Secure them to the ground?” Ruby asks.

“Unless you wanna blow away in the middle of the night.” Curtis shrugs. “I mean, I’ll chase after you, my little Rubikscube, but if that wind is strong enough, you might end up in Oz or some shit.” He waggles his brows at her.

Several strained sighs later, you all have the sleeping bags situated in each respective tent. Along with lanterns, flashlights, and a couple first aid kits. You're content to let the boys handle the tools, the ax, as well the few pans and utensils.

“Great job, everyone.” Ari praises. “Now ladies, you and I are going to head down to the river to fill up our water supply. Andy, Curtis - you good with handling the firewood?”

“Got it!”

“Umm, water supply?” Story whispers.

“Oh, apparently we have to boil our water with these tablets to help purify it. Unless you’d like to contract a parasite and die.” You flash her a humorless smile.

At this point you would kill for a bottle of Aquafina or Dasani to drop into your hands right now.

The creek looked alright. Smelled kinda fishy. But between the four of you, you’d managed to fill eight decently sized jugs before returning to your campsite, just as the other boys were finishing up their pile of firewood.

You and Ruby share a look. “Can we finally sit down now?”

The guys huddle up together, keeping their voices down. They break away after a few moments and scatter. Andy goes to grab a big metal pot, while Curtis snags a sizable jug of river water. Meanwhile, Ari goes back to working on the fire.

Once the coals are burning and the flames are going, the men hang the pot over the fire and then fill it with water. Andy drops in a couple of purification tablets, and then they all step back to admire their handiwork.

“We’ll just give it maybe an hour or so to do it’s thing. I say we go ahead and hit the showers,"

Immediately, you girls balk and begin to trudge back to your respective tents, completely and totally upset.

“If you really think I’m about to bathe in that river with monsters floating around, all of ‘em looking for a little evening snack, you boys have lost your mind!” You tell them, feeling your voice rise several octaves in the process.

“She's right! Didn’t y’all read that article about that alligator they found swimming around here not to long ago? Yeah they captured it and shipped it home. But what’s to say he didn’t come back…with friends?” Story crosses her arms and gives them a pointed glare.

You nod in support while the men proceed to grumble and roll their eyes.

“I'ma keep this real simple.” Ruby finally chimes in. I ain’t swimin’ with no snakes. I don’t trust ‘em. They’re too shifty. And most importantly, they bite.”

“Ladies.” Andy clasps his hands together before resting them on top of his head. “There’s a public shower a little less than thirty minutes that way, okay?”

“Oh.” Is all you can mumble. “Well how were we supposed to know that? God!"

“So let’s grab our things and head over there before my goddamned ears start to bleed.” Curtis growls, clearly frustrated.

The girls race for their toiletry bags and towels while their very irritated men follow behind them to collect their own.

Bags in hand, you all begin making your way towards the showers. You, Ruby, and Story find yourselves practically skipping the whole way, which only further annoys your partners who are desperately trying to keep you in sight.

“Sweetheart, this is the last time I’m gonna to tell you. Come back and hold my hand. Now.” Andy warns, reaching for you. Not wanting piss off your Daddy in public, you let go of Ruby’s hand and take hold of his instead.

“Good idea, Andy.” Curtis agrees. “Ruby, Story. Come back to us please. It’s safer that way."

With twin sighs, they also do as their told.

Boy this whole camping experience sure had been major delight so far.

When you finally reach the showers, you dash in and pick a stall. Women were on the left side, while men were on the right.

“See you guys in twenty!” Story waves them off. The guys shake their heads and wander around to the other side of the facility.

You and the girls turn on the water to let it warm up and begin stripping out of your dirty clothes. You then wrap a towel around yourself and quickly fold your clothes before placing them in your bag.

Just as you girls are ready to step in, your three handsome, well-muscled partners come around the corner, each of them clad in just a towel.

“Can uh - can we help you?” A confused Ruby asks.

“Nope, we’re here to shower with our gorgeous girls. Helps conserve water and also lets us keep an eye out for creepy guys.” Curtis offers with a shrug.

“And if we say no?” You glare at them.

“Funny thing is, none of are asking, princess.”

“Now, in you go, my sweet Story-girl.” Ari twirls his finger and points toward the running shower.

“Argh!” She stomps inside and reaches out to hand him her towel. Exasperated, you and Ruby also follow suit.

“Andy, this shower isn’t big enough for the two of us.” You're quick to grumble. Instead of responding, he places a warm palm on your belly, pressing you against the solid wall of his chest before going to work soaping up your nude body.

You bite back a moan as he tenderly caresses your heavy breasts, lovingly tending to your nipples as he does. Andy's hands then stroke themselves down your sides, brushing hs sudsy fingers across your navel before finally reaching your aching pussy.

Andy cups cunt, grinding the heel of his palm against your now throbbing clit. He then turns you in his arms so that he can wash your back, as well as your round ass - which he slaps - making you moan. Your man then soaps your thighs and then your calves before pushing you further under the spray so he can quickly take care of himself.

And even under the sound of the spray, you’re pretty you can make out another moan…or two. And they definitely weren’t your own.

Finished with your showers, everyone takes a moment to get dressed for the night. You can’t quite seem to make eye contact with either of your friends.

But Andy, Ari, and Curtis, they stride back to the campsite with their big chests puffed out and satisfied grins on their lips.

The smug bastards.

Once you return your site, Ari removes the purified water from the still glowing flames and sits on a protected surface. Curtis then drops two cans of hickory-smoked baked beans into another pot and hangs it up to cook.

And then while you wait, the four of you roast delicious beef brats. Andy leans over to open another cooler to pull out a few beers - Sam Adams for the guys and Leinenkugel Summer Shandies for the ladies.

“Oh, so we have to boil water to live, but you guys packed beer.” Ruby scoffs.

“Can’t forage for beer in the wild, Rubi-loo-hoo. Ex-marine here. Already checked.” Ari chuckles, as does everyone else.

When the beans and brats are done, Curtis passes around tin plates with two hot dog buns each. And then you all sit back and enjoy a simple meal, a warm fire, the beautiful night sky, and the pleasant company of a bunch of weirdos.

It’s just after 1:30am when all decide to retire.

“Good night, everybody. I think even our pretty little naysayers had a good time.” Andy chuckles, only to grunt when you elbow him in the ribs.

“And remember, no going to the bathroom alone at night. Wake people. It’s important to go as a group.” Ari instructs.

“Got it!”

You climb into your tent with your boyfriend right behind you. Exhausted, you both make quick work of climbing into your sleeping bags. Fluffing your pillow, you scooch over to be closer to your fella.

“I love you, baby. Thanks for making sure no creepy guy tried to join me in the shower tonight. It was quite chivalrous of you.”

“You know how I feel about protecting my Princess.” He presses his warm lips to your own. “Tomorrow, we’ll have breakfast, do a little kayaking, some fishing, and whatever else we feel like. So rest up, little one.”

Andy kisses your nose and drifts off, just like that.

Handsome Jerk.

Two Hours Later…

Your phone buzzes near your ear. Picking it up, you squint at the message:

RubyRoo: Story and I have to pee? You?

You look over at Andy who is fast asleep.

You: Uh, yeah. Be out in a sec.

Being as quiet as possible, you grab a flashlight and then unzip and then rezip the tent. You see your friends waiting for you in front of a nearby tree.

They wave their flashlights at you as you hurry over. You were convinced that between the three of you, you could remember where you were going. But just in case, you were carrying mace, Story had stolen a flare gun, Ruby was rocking a hunting knife. Better to be safe than sorry.

You weren’t exactly the Charlie’s Angels, but it would have to do. You begin to confidently make your way into the woods, staying along the designated path as you do.

You try your hardest not to flinch and jump at every weird sound or crunch of twig.

“We’ve been walking for quite a while, ladies. We should be there soon.” Story mumbles. “But, I was just thinking…should we have maybe woken up one of the boys before we left?

Shit.

“Probably, but it’s too late now for that now. Let’s just be quick and maybe we’ll get lucky.” Ruby winces.

You successfully make it to restroom facilities and quickly handle your business. Once finished, you half walk, half jog back to your campsite.

You make it back in about twenty minutes. Just in time to see your men, all fully dressed, gathered around the fading embers of the fire. They’re conversation becomes clearer the closer you get.

“Oh, shit we’re in trouble.” You mutter.

“Shhh…”

“I don’t give a shit if they did go to the bathroom, Andrew! My Story-girl loses her car in every parking lot like it’s her job. And please don’t get me started on Ruby’s sense of direction.” Okay, apparently Ari was in full rant mode.

“I know, I know. She’s hopeless without a GPS. Always has been, always will be. And your girl…" He trails off, throwing his hands in the air. "Come on, man!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Andy growls. “She got stuck in the kiddie the corn maze the other month and l had to rescue her when she started crying. Can’t fucking believe that they didn’t wake even one of us up. I'm going to roast her little ass…”

“Story knows better.” Ari snarls. “And I’m going to remind her of that as soon as I get my hands on her.”

“See, I was hoping we’d be able enjoy this trip without having to do that. But a Daddy’s job is never done I guess.” Curtis growls. “Let’s go get them before I fall over from exhaustion.”

Faces beet red, knees slightly shaking, you three pick that moment emerge from your safe place just beyond the tree line.

“Um, no need guys. As you can see, we made it there and back just fine.” You flash them what you hope is your sweetest, most confident smile.

“See what the power of teamwork can do?” Story wraps her arms around both of you, silently praying for a miracle.

“Yep! And although we should’ve woken one of you up, we had mace, a flare gun, and this here hunting knife to protect us. See?” Ruby shrugs. “So no need to worry.

“The fuck?!”

"Rubeena Kathryn Everett,” Her husband snarls. “You give me that knife right now, you little brat.”

“Okay, okay.” She gingerly hands it over. “There ya go. Now how about we all go back to bed and agree to laugh at this silliness in the morning?"

“I agree!” You chime in. “If we’re planning on going kayaking tomorrow, then we need to have our wits about us.”

“Yep!” Story agrees.

“Story-girl, take yourself to our tent and roll up your sleeping bag. You’ll be sharing with me for the rest of tonight. And you best believe that you and I will be having a serious discussion tomorrow morning, regardless of who's around. Now go.” She purposely dodges him in an effort to protect her ass.

“Curtis, c’mon. It’s not that big a deal. There’s no reason to be this upset.” He strides towards her. “It’s like you wake up looking for a reason to be grumpy with me and ooh -!”

Ruby’s burly firefighter tosses her over his shoulder and begins to carry her off. “Shut the fuck up.” He barks. “Or I will fire up this beautiful bottom right here, right now, within earshot of everyone.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now Andy,” You begin. “You know that we didn’t really break the rules. Can’t you do something here?” You grab his big, strong hand and give it a squeeze. “Please, Andy?”

He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he uses one hand to cup your chin, and then other to wrench your thick curls back, making you whimper.

“What’s name right now, little girl? Tell me the name of the man responsible for overseeing his baby’s punishment in the morning? Hm?”

Your mouth suddenly goes dry.

“Daddy. It’s my Daddy who punishes me when I’m bad.”

Aww fuck.

“Now, tomorrow morning, which is really just a few hours from now, we’re going to have a little breakfast. And then you and I are going into the woods and pick you out a switch.”

Aww. Double fuck.

"Now goodnight, baby. I think it’s time I got you tucked in again."

END

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