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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 months

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Rainbow Bridge

Summary: The reader is incredibly confused when in heaven one day, a dog she's never met before appears by her side...

Pairing: Dean x reader (in heaven)

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of pet death/human death

A/N: I wrote this for my fellow pet owners (and myself). Hopefully those little dudes over the rainbow bridge have their own kinds of adventures like these pups while they wait! (and all the chicken nuggies they can eat 😉)

_______

The air shifted, a warm and joyful presence filling the air. You glanced down in your kitchen, an adorable dog with long fur and pointy ears staring up at you with a wagging tail.

“Well good morning to you, cutie,” you laughed, bending down in your pajamas with your cup of coffee, giving the dog a few pets. “Who might you be?”

The dog woofed and the thought Miracle sprang into your head. That wasn’t entirely uncommon. Animals in the afterlife were able to communicate a bit better than they had when you were alive.

One of your own dogs you’d had when you were alive, your first dog ever, bounded upstairs from the playroom on the lower level that was for them to use as a way station. Sometimes they liked to stick around home, sometimes by your side and others they’d go off and visit their own animal friends they’d made. But generally they kept to themselves first thing in the day.

“This a friend of yours, baby?” you asked your little dog. He ran over to Miracle, sniffing intensely before he snorted. “No huh. Did you just die, Miracle? I know sometimes dogs are a little confused when they get here and you got your young, healthy bodies back.”

Miracle woofed with a slight head shake, your lips pursing. Your own dog pawed at you, resting a little foot on your arm. You hummed at him, the little guy sending you some positive feelings, sensing you were worried.

“Alright. I’ve never heard of a random dog appearing in heaven unless you request one. You show Miracle around the house and where he can do his business while I get ready. Then we’ll try to figure out who your owner is, okay?” Both dogs yelped happily and took off downstairs, a loud crash at the bottom as they slammed into your boot tray. “Careful! Just cause you can’t get hurt doesn’t mean you can be reckless!”

More than one dog barked back in response and you rolled your eyes, heading for your bedroom.

“At least I don’t have to pay vet bills for you guys anymore. Five dogs is only kind of a lot for one eternity.” You heard more barking and groaned. “I wasn’t complaining you mongrels! I was quite pleased to see your little faces when I died. I could have done with a little less face licking though.”

You swore you could hear the faint echo of laughter in their barks as you got ready for the day.

“If I’m not back by supper make sure you boys get some dinner,” you called, heading outside with Miracle. You loaded into your car and headed down the road, thinking you had a problem. Soon you were taking an off ramp you’d not seen before. You wound up in a mostly empty parking lot, Miracle following you out and into the lone building around.

“Take an issue form and fill out everything before returning it to the counter,” grumbled the guy behind the desk, shoving a clipboard towards you. You stepped through the empty waiting room, picking up the board. You opened your mouth to speak when he sighed. “The form is a requirement by the big man. I’m just doing my job.”

“How do you have a job which is arguably the equivalent of working at the DMV, but in heaven? Like, we don’t have jobs.” He flickered his eyes up at you, making you jump back when they flashed black.

“Demon, sweetie. It’s part of my rehab program so I can someday be like you. By then, some other schmuck in the program will have my job. No more questions.”

“Okay…” you said, grabbing a pen and taking a seat, Miracle laying down on the floor beside you. You stared at the form, frowning when you didn’t see your particular issue listed.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Demon,” you said, approaching the counter again, the guy rolling his eyes at you. “My problem doesn’t appear on the form?”

“That’s impossible. Those are the only issues possible of occurring in heaven.” You pointed at Miracle beside you, the guy standing to look down at him.

“I have no clue who this dog is and it’s not my dog’s friend. He just appeared next to me in my kitchen this morning,” you said. The demon stared at you, rubbing his temples.

“Remember your steps, remember your steps,” he muttered to himself before forcing a smile. “Listen. Dogs don’t get lost in heaven. Either you know his owner-”

“Nope. My dogs don’t recognize him.”

“Fine,” gritted out the demon. “Then you and the owner of this dog are soulmates in some way.”

You blinked at him, the man angrily typing on his keyboard.

“This dog belongs to a man named Dean Winchester. You and Dean Winchester were alive, somewhat, during the same time. He died a lot younger than you did. You two are…romantic soulmates,” he said, a fax machine going in the back. He got up and ripped off a sheet of paper, handing it to you. “Here’s his address. Now please go bother him instead of me.”

You rolled your eyes, ready to leave when you stopped, glancing down at Miracle. “Do you like, want to pet the dog?”

“Excuse me?” You turned around, the demon still on his feet.

“Well I mean, it’s probably been awhile since you’ve seen a dog or gotten to pet one. You can’t be that horrible if they’re letting you up here with the rest of us. So do you want to pet him?”

It was shocking how quickly the demon hopped over the counter and knelt down next to the dog, giving him a few pats and then a belly rub.

“I had a dog when I was a kid. I can’t wait to see her again once I get out of here,” he said, glancing up at you, seeming to forget he was a demon for a moment. “That was weird.”

“Dogs are kinda perpetually happy here and give off good energy. I’m sure your dog is looking forward to seeing you too,” you said as Miracle sat up and headed for the door. “Apparently I’m on the move. See ya around someday.”

“Yeah. Someday,” he said as you left. Five seconds later, now that you knew where you were going, you popped yourself over to this Dean Winchester’s place. You were standing outside a beautiful two story cabin on a lake, Miracle taking off in a sprint down a dock to where someone was sitting in a chair fishing.

Your heart felt funny as the man on the dock stood and turned around, cocking his head at you. He gave Miracle a good ruffle before he approached, meeting you halfway across his backyard.

“Hi,” he said with a smile, shaking his head. “I uh-”

You both jumped when your five dogs appeared, running and chasing around a ball in the yard, Miracle joining in after them.

“Your dog popped into my kitchen this morning. I’m pretty sure we’re soulmates. At least that’s what this paper says,” you said, the pack of dogs sprinting around the corner of the house. “I’ve had a few pups in my life.”

“Miracle could do with some siblings,” he said, smirking as you felt a cozy peace inside you. “I was wondering where he ran off to. He normally doesn’t stray far from home. Looks like he was off finding his mom.”

“I thought soulmates were supposed to like…snap together when they’re both in heaven,” you said. He smirked, pursing his lips. “What?”

“I probably wasn’t in heaven when you died. I was jumping around alternate worlds and you look very confused all of a sudden.” You nodded, staring at him wide eyed. “I’m a smidge of a rule breaker…and I kinda know Jack…and took down the old god.”

Your first instinct was to call him crazy but he had no reason to lie. Besides, something ached in his soul, like it had a little bruise on it. This man had known serious pain and then some when he was alive.

“You know, I killed vampires when I was alive. What’s something you did for fun?” he asked. Your jaw dropped, Dean chuckling. “Oh boy. Sweetheart, you and I have some catching up to do.”

“Hi baby,” you said that night as you and Dean laid on a blanket in the yard, your little guy crawling up on the blanket and settling in beside Dean. “Aw, he likes you.”

“He’s protective of you. I can feel it,” he said with a hum. “He hung out with your grandparents a lot after he died. Apparently while you were crying over him on earth, he was chowing down on some of your grandpa’s maple syrup bacon thinking mom’s being overdramatic, I’m gonna see her again. She worries too much.”

You sat up, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know that? My grandparents told me they were with him until my parents got here and he stayed with them a while but dogs can’t talk to us like that here. We can sense them and stuff but we can’t know complete thoughts.”

Dean smiled, scratching behind the dogs ears.

“Well, I’m a little special. I worked a case where I could communicate with dogs once. It came back up here. This little guy adores the fuck out of you and wishes you hadn’t been so sad back then but he understands. He is pretty awesome,” laughed Dean.

“And he’s a little shit,” you giggled. “What else does he say?”

“He’s glad you got more dogs over your life and he’s glad you found me finally. Also if we don’t stop talking soon he’s going to go inside and sleep on our bed,” chuckled Dean. “Cranky baby, aren’t you?”

The dog snorted, stood up, licked your nose and trotted off inside with his chin turned up.

“Like I said, he’s a sassy little shit,” you chuckled, Dean pulling you closer. “So Dean. What do you got planned for the afterlife?”

“A bit of fishing here and there. Working on my car. Going out for a drink at the roadhouse. Hanging with my brother. Sneak out of heaven to get up to shit every once in a while, hopefully with you. How’s that sound?” he asked. You leaned over and kissed him slowly, rolling back with a smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Winchester. Time to start having some fun in eternity.”

___________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #dean x #dean winchester one shot

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bruhstation · 8 months

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assorted 2x3x4 stuff from a few months ago (except the last one! it’s recent! it’s a limbus company AU I’m working on)

also a small life update under the cut

hi! it’s been a while since I last uploaded art or anything cstm-related. the truth is that I’m a college student now! yay! I’m studying to become a doctor too! double yay! I’ve been feeling much at home here rather than at high school to be honest XD and it’s great to have the privacy I desired compared to my dormitory life many months ago. the big city I currently reside in (I’m a country boy lol) also gives me a lot of cool places to visit, cool people to meet. I’ve been doing well, maybe a bit on the mental side? haha, it’s just the first week of uni, so I won’t get way too hopeful, but one’s gotta be optimistic

but with university comes a lot of homeworks!! not as much as in high school, but I get home late and I have to think about lots of things other than homeworks, like cleaning the apartment, cooking, etc. I’ve been busy both with my personal life and my social life in uni. I’m also currently hyperfixated on my ocs and welcome home, and lately I’ve been trying to slow down on drawing too much and avoiding burnout (also some things regarding the ttte community but atp it’s just a long lost memory and I prefer to think about the better stuff).

I have many drawing ideas for casa tidmouth, a few fanfics planned too, but I’m whittling at it all, bit by bit, at a pace I desire. hopefully, I can fully return to bruhstation later and gain my footing again. I love my story, I love my friends here, I love my supporters. I’ll just take my sweet sweet time.

thanks a lot for sticking around!

oh, I’ve also been reading more books. a LOT of them!! I think they’re a good way to expand the way I weave the themes in my story, and they’re so good. demian, the stranger, 1984, wuthering heights, moby dick... do check them out someday!!!

#thomas the tank engine #thomas and friends #ttte gordon #ttte henry #ttte edward #ttte thomas #2x3x4 #casa tidmouth #senjart #anyways the lyrics are taken from that decade old hercules x ramses amv. I'm not joking #I am so SO normal about these three old geezers.#<--- have been saying this for more than a year #LCB AU

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jaeyunverse · 8 months

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the death hoax

pairing: na jaemin x fem!reader

genres: superhero/supervillain au

wc: 1060

warnings: profanity, mentions of death, jaemin and y/n are morally grey characters (??) but i’m not sure if that’s how they can be described

summary: na jaemin was supposed to be dead, except he’s standing at your door with a favour he wants to ask of you.

note: this was originally written for enhypen but i thought of switching things up!

masterlist

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“I’ll die after I cash in that favour you owe me.”

Rolling your eyes, you opened your door wider and allowed Na Jaemin to come inside. Noticing the large suitcase rolling behind him, you raised an eyebrow.

“Is that why you’re here?”

He didn’t answer immediately, instead taking his sweet time to survey your apartment. Appearing satisfied, he turned to face you and said, “Kind of. You don’t seem surprised to see I’m alive. Why?”

“Because I know you wouldn’t die at anyone else’s hands,” you answered and plopped down on your couch. “I know you want me to kill you someday.”

He blankly stared at you for a moment. Then, a mischievous smile broke out on his lips. “True.”

“Besides,” you said, surfing through Netflix to find a good movie to watch. “Your cover story was horrible. No way did Torch manage to burn you alive. He can’t even wash his ass properly.”

“Maybe my fake death would have been more believable if you hadn’t faked yours first,” Jaemin pointed out and took a seat beside you. Removing his shades, he continued, “You’re the only superhero capable of beating me. Our battle would have gone down in history as one of the greatest.”

Averting your gaze from the television, you glanced at your nemesis to find he was already looking at you. “Electricity manipulation versus elemental control,” you mused. “I can’t lie, I’ve seen better in movies.”

“Well, there’s my immortality and your self-regeneration to consider too. I can’t die, and you can’t be killed. That would have made one hell of a fighting sequence.”

You paused, thinking about it for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. We could have made BuzzFeed’s Top 10 of the Century.”

“Top 3.”

“Now you’re just pushing it.”

Jaemin gave you a pointed look to which you shrugged. Sighing, he said, “I won’t beat around the bush. I’m here to ask you for sanctuary.”

“You wanna live with me?” you deadpanned.

“Till I can find a new planet to move on to, yeah.”

He must have seen the uncertainty on your face because he clarified, “I don’t want to stay on Earth anymore. My home is gone and there’s little one can do to make the next several thousand years of their life more interesting. Exploring the universe to search for ways to strip myself of my immortality seems to be a productive way of spending my time.”

“You got bored of terrorizing Earth so you copied me and faked your death. Then you came to my house so you’d have a place to stay while you planned the remainder of your life and hunted for ways to die. Did I get it all right?”

“I can’t possibly plan my entire life; it’s too long. All I want to do right now is decide what my next destination should be. Hopefully, it’ll lead me to the weapon I seek. And if you’re still alive by the time it comes into my possession, I’ll return and you can deliver the death blow.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m flattered, but you know what I mean.”

“Come on, Y/N, say yes,” Jaemin urged. “You owe me a favour.”

You eyed him skeptically and weighed your options.

Lee Jaemin, better known by the public as Thunder, was a supervillain. You, Phoenix, on the other hand, were a superhero. He was an immortal from a planet that had long been destroyed by extraterrestrial forces which were now extinct, while you were just a human (okay, part-human) from Earth.

Under normal circumstances, the two of you would have been arch nemeses. He was the bad guy who had to be defeated, and you were the representation of all that was good.

Except, you didn’t want to be good. Being gifted with powers wasn’t something you had asked for. Much to your displeasure, you’d been given the responsibility to protect the human race against all sorts of evil from the moment you showed signs of elemental control and rapid self-regeneration.

Over the course of your work, you’d realised not everyone was worth saving. Faking your death to escape your duties may have been completely selfish, but you didn’t give a flying fuck. You’d done enough.

Besides, the other superheroes could take over for you—Torch, apparently, already had.

Lee Jaemin had proved to be an unlikely ally. During the times he wasn’t causing havoc, he was a fun person to be around. He seemed to share a lot of your notions and views—something you’d found rather shocking at first.

No one except you knew the truth about him. As far as the world was concerned, he was just an ill-fated super from Earth who had lost his way.

“Before I say anything,” you began, “why did you fake your death? You could have just disappeared.”

“Closure,” Jaemin replied. “The residents of your planet needed to know I was gone for good. I didn’t want them to wonder when I would come back—to fear the kind of horrors I was planning in my absence.”

You snorted. “Weird to see you being considerate after causing so much pain and suffering.”

“No.” Jaemin’s eyes darkened. “I never wanted to hurt innocents. They were just casualties. Sacrifices for the greater good.”

This was definitely not part of the many notions you shared. “Maybe that’s what the people who invaded your planet thought,” you bit back. “Maybe they thought your kind was just an obstacle standing in the way of their greater good. Maybe that’s why they had no qualms exterminating everyone you cared for.”

Jaemin’s jaw clenched, electricity beginning to cackle at the tips of his fingers. “Do you or do you not accept my request, Y/N?”

You stared him down. “On one condition: you take me with you when you leave. I’m done here.”

“I’m not forming the fucking suicide squad. Besides, you’re only human.” If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “You won’t make it.”

Letting a small smirk tug the corner of your lip upwards, you answered, “Did you forget what you said, Jaemin? I can’t be killed. You’ve witnessed the things I’m capable of. If there’s anyone who can make it, it’s me.”

Jaemin tilted his head to the side. Scrutinized you. Thought about the pros and cons of bringing you along.

“Deal.”

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so-called-quail · 2 months

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Just finished tabbing my copy of Return of the King:

SO MANY TABS!!

Rambles below the cut BUT before that I need to acknowledge @sindar-princeling and her undying dedication to the LOTR Newsletter. She's been working hard this past week working around the shutdown of Tinyletter and moving the newsletter onto another platform. Although I wasn't subscribed to it this year, I am very grateful to her commitment to keep this project running. So a big thank you to Mills, our wonderful newsletter coordinator!

I recently read my physical copy of The Two Towers on my own time, outside of the newsletter, to get myself to finish the book. A year ago I got wiped out from the long entries that started to roll in at the start of TTT, so I gave up then. It's been a year, and now I am determined to finish this series. So I've decided to do my best to follow along with ROTK in the newsletter format! I want to do this by reading along with my physical copy, because,

A.) I collected physical copies of the whole trilogy a couple months ago, as incentive to read them all someday. I'd like to follow through with that! It feels rewarding to read books you own :)

B.) I'm hoping that a physical copy will push me to keep up with the entries. Doing the work to tab every corresponding date in the book gave me a better idea of what to anticipate with pacing and length of entries, so hopefully I can plan accordingly for reading each entry.

Reading along with the newsletter timeline is fascinating. It adds a lot more weight to the passage of time and how events play out. Plus it was fun having the time of day and year align while reading along! I'd like to preserve that as much as possible as I finish this series.

Anyways! Wishing myself luck with making it through the series this time. See y'all at the start of ROTK!

#mostly just talking things out to myself #mentally preparing for jumping back into the newsletter timeline of reading #i *really* want to finish this series!!#lotr newsletter

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tangyangie · 1 year

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» strawberries and cream ☆

character(s): saiki k

genre(s): pure fluff

description: gn!reader, established relationship, picnic date so cute i kinda want to jump off the burj khalifa

notes: who needs requests when you’ve got your fake scenarios <3, also probably slightly ooc (sorry)

also, this is my first (official) post.. so i’m sorry if it’s a little short

i can’t believe i let you drag me into this.

“you say that like we’re committing a crime. is going outside really that much of a task for you??”

yes.

sighing, you grasped onto your picnic basket filled with lots of snacks and treats and held saiki’s arm as you both teleported to the picnic area.

“you’re too much, saiki.” you complained, spreading out the picnic blanket you brought with you.

why couldn’t we have just eaten this at home?

“because, saiki. going outside is good for you. now, sit.”

with an apathetic yet slightly irritated look on his face, he sat on the red and white blanket. you took out the plates and set them down, while saiki waited silently for who could be so amazing that he needed to exit the comfort of his home.

then, you took out what seemed to be the most scrumptious, moist, and luxurious cake ever.

is that-

“yes, kusuo.”

i’m convinced.

he sat alongside you while eating his cake and engaging in his signature sweet face. you set everything else in place and watched saiki savor your cooking.

“so you like it?” you asked hopefully.

did you make this?

“no, saiki. i bought it from an island in the pacific ocean that isn’t even on the map.”

he continued eating the cake while you had an amused look on your face.

you’re not funny.

“yes, i am.”

he exhaled slightly, but (internally) smiled at the fact he actually was enjoying this.

just as he thought it couldn’t get better, you pulled out two coffee jellies from the basket. almost audibly gasping, he quickly obtained one of the sweet treats from you, slightly eyeing you as you giggled quietly.

you both continued eating until you were full, and the sun was beginning to set. you scooted over to saiki, leaning onto his shoulder. you closed your eyes and wrapped your hands around him, while he leaned his head back and sniffed in the fresh air.

he ran his hand through your hair, relaxing his breathing as you both looked off into the sunset.

thank you, y/n.

“aww, does that mean you actually liked it?” you teased.

possibly.

you sighed and nuzzled into his neck, giving him a small kiss. feeling his breath hitch, you smiled and climbed into his lap. giving him a kiss on the forehead, you engulfed him in your arms, squeezing into his chest.

good grief. you’re so cringy.

“shut up and hug me.”

defeated, he wrapped his arms around you, exhaling as he snuggled onto your shoulder.

“can i give you a kiss?”

did have to ruin the moment?

“by speaking??”

yes.

“if it means i get to kiss you,”

slightly rolling his eyes, he pulled you back in front of him. smiling, you gently grabbed the sides of his face, leaned in, and kissed him.

“thank you for coming with me.” you smiled, returning to your spot next to him.

of course.

you knew he was difficult sometimes, but only you could bring out this soft side of him. maybe, just maybe, you could someday get him to lower his guard around everyone else too.

but, we’re a long way from that.

notes: if you see me going around and making changes to my whole profile and every post, no you didn't 💕

#saiki k x reader #saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k.#tdlosk #hee hee #picnic date #coffee jelly #i’m thirsty #and hungry #i want food #x reader #live laugh love #reader fic

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kingdaddydaichi · 2 years

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meet the bakugous ⋆ pt. 3

⋆ pairing: katsuki bakugou x f!reader

⋆ cw/an: sfw, a little crack, we finally meet the parental units of the bakugou variety, remember what i said about overwriting?, yeah pt. 3 is 1.1k words but hopefully i've made it worth your while my loves

⋆ series navi: ← pt. 2 ⋆ pt. 3 ⋆ pt. 4 ->

It was early Sunday evening when Katsuki pulled up to his parents’ home - the home he’d grown up in. He hadn’t talked very much about his parents and when he did, the things he told you were about what you’d expect from a “normal” family. You were a little nervous, but the same couldn’t be said for your boyfriend.

He’d never taken a girl home to meet his parents before. His dad, he wasn’t worried about. It was his mom and her…intense personality that troubled him. She would embarrass him, that was a given. But just how far she would go made him beyond nervous. Agitated, actually. He even yelled at another driver in traffic on the way there. When you squeezed his hand he growled and rolled up the driver side window. “Sorry,” he grumbled, glancing over at you.

He’d considered turning down the invitation without even telling you about it, but he knew he’d never hear the end of it. And besides, he really was serious about you and knew saying no would just delay the inevitable. Might as well just do it and get it over with.

Katsuki had just closed the door behind you when you heard a loud “Katsuki!! S’that you?!”

“Yeah, Ma!” he yelled back.

The shuffle of slippered footsteps closed in fast and when you looked up from taking your shoes off, a small female version of Katsuki was beaming at you. She’s his mom?, you thought. She looks young enough to be his older sister. She was gorgeous.

“You must be (y/n)!” she said, clapping her hands together.

“Of course she is, old lady! Who the fuck else would she be?”

You bristled a bit at your boyfriend’s snide remark to his mom, but before you could so much as make eye contact with him you found yourself in the tight embrace of a mama bear. Any doubts you may have had about the authenticity of her perfect boobs were swiftly eradicated when they squished against you.

“It is so nice to finally meet you! Katsuki just went on and on about you the other day!”

Oh great, here we fuckin go, he thought.

She pulled away from you to get a better look at you, her hands still holding onto your upper arms as you exchanged pleasantries. Her long, thick eyelashes prompted you to make a mental note to talk Katsuki into letting you put makeup on him sometime.

“You are so pretty!” she beamed.

“Thank you,” you said, standing in reciprocal awe of Mitsuki Bakugou’s breathtaking beauty. “So are you!”

Her sparkling carmine eyes went as big as Katsuki’s head, her open grin splitting from ear to ear. She glanced over at her son then back at you. “Katsuki Bakugou, you better marry her!”

“Jesus, Ma! Shut up!” he gritted through clenched teeth. His heart, however, clenched at the way you and his mother took to each other like ducks to water, but even more so at the prospect of being your husband someday. It was something that had already crossed his mind a couple of times.

You heard the clearing of a throat and everyone turned to see Katsuki’s father standing there with a warm smile on his face. “Hi, (y/n), I’m Katsuki’s dad, but you can call me Masaru.” He gave you a shallow bow, which you returned with a deeper one.

“So nice to meet you, Mr. Bakugou.”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “No, really! Please call me Masaru.”

His wife agreed. “And call me Mitsuki!” She took you by the hand. “Come on in, I’ll give you a quick tour.”

“Dinner smells delicious!” you said, sniffing the air.

“Oh, Masaru does most of the cooking. Lucky for you, Katsuki inherited his father’s culinary skills.”

Father and son watched - the former smiling, the latter cringing - as you and Mitsuki disappeared around the corner, laughing.

Masaru noticed Katsuki’s stiff posture and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “Relax, Katsuki.”

As they strolled into the living room together, Mitsuki’s voice rang out from the other end of the house. “And this is Katsuki’s old bedroom! We left his All Might posters up for when he comes home to visit!”

Masaru hazarded a look at his son and saw about what he expected: Katsuki’s beet red face twisted in something between rage and psychological pain.

“C’mon, son,” he sighed, clapping Katsuki's tense shoulder. “I’ll make us both drinks.”

At one point during dinner, Mitsuki made a strange comment. “Katsuki couldn’t keep either of the other girls he’s dated around long enough for me to meet them!”

Your boyfriend growled at his mother. “Shut the fuck up, Ma! I swear your mouth is bigger than your brain sometimes!”

It was a bit uncomfortable but when Mitsuki waved his outburst away you relaxed again.

“It’s just as well since it means I get to be with him now,” you said, reaching over and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Katsuki’s ears turned bright red. His parents had never seen him having an affectionate or intimate moment with anyone. A little bit of embarrassment and a whole lot of pride swelled in his chest knowing his mother was finally witnessing your love for him.

The best part was he hadn’t even told you about the harsh, disparaging things she had said to him over the years. She’d always told him that no woman in her right mind would want to be with him or put up with his shit.

But now here you were - someone she clearly adored - fawning over him, praising him, and saying how lucky you are to be with him. You didn’t even know you were proving her wrong, vindicating him in front of her very eyes.

Suck it, you old hag. You see that? You hearing this? (Y/n) loves me AND she’s fucking amazing, he thought with a sly grin on his face.

As far as you were concerned, dinner was lovely, as was your visit. Both his parents were incredibly sweet and made the fact that they approved of you more than apparent. Katsuki knew they would - you’re a beautiful human inside and out. Only a shitty idiot would think anything less of you.

But what did you think of them? He was anxious to find out. By all outward appearances you seemed to like them. But he knew how adept you were at social graces. What were your true impressions? He hoped to be with you for as long as you’d have him. He wanted you to love all the things that made him who he is, which, for better or worse, included his dysfunctional family.

As you and Katsuki walked out to his car, forced leftovers in hand, you smiled remembering Mitsuki’s words: “Katsuki Bakugou, you better marry her!”

← pt. 2 ⋆ pt. 4 ->

#katsuki my king 👑#katsuki #bakugou #bakugo #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #katsuki x f!reader #bakugou x f!reader #bakugo x f!reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mitsuki #masaru #mitsuki bakugou #mitsuki bakugo #masaru bakugou #masaru bakugo

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citadelofmythoughts · 2 months

Note

Fandoms of media long since finished are still thriving. Some grow slow and then pick up speed. Here on tumblr nbc Hannibal still trends despite the show having ended ten years ago. It’s sad. I wanted to cry at work today because despite the bad parts RT was part of my life since I was 15. I had my first relationship because of it. I’ve come across so many talented and passionate fans bc of rwby (you being one of them). So I’m sad. Not just about the state of the show but for all the people who Clearly didn’t know this was going to happen. Like they were just talking about the new camp camp season and rwby beyond and the stinky dragon puppet show. So many people have lost their jobs with no warning and that sucks so bad. But as for us? We have each other. I’ll probably see if I can buy the blue rays of the show bc online media loves to be nuked from the internet. But we are passionate and we have love for the show and crwby and something ending in production doesn’t mean all that we gained and grew and loved goes away.

I’m sad today. But I’m grateful to have been there for it. And I’m wishing so much that everyone finds a job that respects them and treats them fairly.

I’m also wishing for the death of monolithic corporations and for smaller studios in the arts to thrive again so that many more people can work their passions without fear of being swallowed and then discarded again

(Not saying early RT was peefect this last bit is just about big companies in German since RT is far from the last place to do sudden massive layoffs)

I hope all those who are losing their jobs have soft landings and I can't thank CRWBY enough for the magic that is RWBY.

I've seen more than one person say that it's changed their life and I'm no different. It's inspired me, uplifted me. It's been a refuge when the world was horrible. I've become a much better writer because I wanted to play in the sandbox they gave us.

I'm not without hope. Hope sustains us. RWBY is built around the concept. So, someday, hopefully not too far in the distant future it might return.

Until then, I'm still gonna play in the fertile fields that Monty planted for us.

And Warner Brothers can rot in hell. I'm never touching a single one of their properties ever again.

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fizzyswirl · 5 days

Text

I'm so happy that Chayanne and Taullulah returned. Hopefully the rest of the eggs will also wake up (especially Richas, Empananda, and Ramon)

Whatever is occuring behind the scenes since the dumbsterfire that happened to Quackity and possibly others, all I can say is that we continue to do what we can to help without causing harm to anyone and support the admins and hope that things are slowly working out.

At the ebd of the day we don't fully know what actually is happening behind the scenes and it may not be as bad as we think and things will take time still.

It may sounds simple to solve but it has so many layers and because multiple countries are apart of this project it makes things more complicated than we realize. Which is why it has been taking longer. Plus with how multiple groups handled the whole situation that even almost put a cc in danger because of something that he doesn't fully know how to fully solve.

Like it's one thing to be involved in helping but it's another where u end up hurting someone and even making things worse.

Which if the people being the server keeps what's happening private, then I honestly can't blame them. Especially with how sh*t twitter is which even the nicest news. It's honestly best as with again how many groups that's involved handled it wasn't the best... But I think we should give it time and also we'll see signs if it's getting better wether it's more eggs returning and/or if more cc's returns.

We can only do so much and I feel we shouldn't abandon something that brought all of us and all the cc's together. But we should do our best to support those that needs that support and also understand that we can't always be a hero, not everything has a simple solution, it has layers that can be complicated depending on multiple things. Sure quackity could've paid the admins but we don't know what fully occured aside from specific things.

Also some info is more complicated as like Pommes admin had a reason to speak out about her treatment and all that. But I feel some things could've been habdled better as she seems to be giving a lot of mix singles about what all happened behind the scenes and this is why I rather hear all sides because I then have no idea what's true and what's not. Maybe they all are true but it's how they each see it in their pov. But this whole situation became a mess that caused Quackity to seperate more from his own project that united many.

Like I don't think any side is innocent but I feel most of them aren't awful just needs to learn from all this and hopefully won't make the same mistakes. Like Quackity defiently should've been more involved in the admins but he defiently doesn't deserve to have his life at risk.

Pomme's admin deserves better but I feel she could've done things a bit more better like again understandable how upset she is but just could've done it all a bit more different.

And I feel that everyone should never use twitter to solve all this (especially a professional law thing like the union)

What I'm saying is that things could've been handled better and that things aren't gonna fully go back to normal. But hopefully things will slowly get better and even when the server ends we all should continue to follow the goal of uniting languages and countries cause I want to learn more and enjoy different languages and cultures and will continue even if qsmp ends someday.

But for now let's enjoy the server as long as possible, be paitinet and support the admins and be kind to one another. And we'll find out more when the time comes.

I'm no professional on all this but just wanted to explain in my pov with all this that occured.

For now I'm gonna be happy to know that the eggs will eventually fully return it'll take time.

Obrigado and hope u all have a nice dia/noite

#qsmp #qsmp discussion #qsmp discourse

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why-am-i-here-someone-save-me · 2 years

Note

SAGAU voicelines request!

How would characters react to Reader cheering for them through the screen (like "C'mon, you can do it!" "Good job, [character name]!!!" "Amazing!!!! Good work!!!"]...but the characters are the ones less used/thought to be weak by the fandom.

Here they are self-aware of their status in the teams, like Kokomi/Barbara/Diona/etc being the healers, Bennet/Mona/etc supports, or Amber/etc just...useless (no offense, i myself main Amber from the start of the game). Like they know they are supposed to be the heal or support of the team but you still main/use them as a DPS. Hopefully you understood my request, I apologize if it sounds messy.

Ah my sweet summer child, every character I build is a ‘support’ with like two exceptions. DPS? Never heard of ‘em.

Also, I framed the voice lines as if the Traveler was asking the other characters thoughts on you. I feel as if quite a few of them would be too shy to be open with the reader, so I figured this worked a tad better.

The way that you cheer them on means the world to them. Sure, they knew they weren’t the greatest at this sort of thing, it wasn’t their specialty, yet you didn’t mind. You didn’t get angry at the fact that they weren’t able to do massive amounts of damage. You loved them just as they were: and it meant everything to them. Your encouragement, your support, your unwavering faith in them; it pushed them to go further and further, striving to overcome their own limits, to grow even more. They’ll put forth the effort without hesitation if it means they can bring a smile to your face.

“Ah, you are familiar with [Name] as well Traveler? Interesting! Personally I consider myself very lucky to have received their guidance. I could not have led Watatsumi Island nearly as well as I have were it not for them. I am not someone who relies heavily on brute force, but even still I have found comfort in the power that [Name] has granted me. I only hope I can use it to protect the people of Watatsumi to the best of my ability.”

“Oh! Traveler! I wanted to thank you for helping me out with the whole Albert situation. Is there anything I can do for you in return? … Eh? My thoughts on [Name]? Well I deeply appreciate them and all they’ve done for me. I hope to someday make them proud!”

“If you’ve come to try to get more booze then you can turn right back aroun- Oh! It’s you! How are you Traveler? Did you need some help with something? Hm? [Name]? Well yes, of course I know them! I’m not dumb! What I think of them? Well… They’re very important to me. They have always been there for me, and that means a lot to me. Plus when they take me traveling I don’t have to deal with those smelly alcoholics!”

“Traveler! There you are! Wanna go on an adventure? …Huh? My luck? Well, yeah I guess I’m always a bit nervous about my luck, but recently I’ve had [Name] watching my back! When I have them watching my back, I know that everything will be just fine!”

“What is it? Honestly, who comes knocking on someone’s door at this early in the morning?! H-Huh?! What do you mean it’s already noon!?!? Ah this is really bad! Sorry no time to chat! I have to get ready for [Name]’s next Spiral Abyss expedition! I can’t bear to let them down!”

“Oh hey Traveler! It’s been a while since I saw you here in Mondstsdt! How about we stop by Good Hunter and catch up a little bit! Ah, you have a question for me? Sure thing Honorary Knight! Ask away!” “[Name]? Well yes, of course I know who [Name] is! I don’t get to hear from them often, but whenever I do, it’s the best feeling in the world! While a little part of me wished they’d call for me more, I can make due with what I’ve been given. After all, as Outrider, I have to keep watch for trouble!”

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mins-fins · 9 months

Text

TO MY FIRST LOVE (K.JH)

SUMMARY . . . a letter to his first love, kum junhyeon, and the memories that follow.

PAIRING . . . kum junhyeon x male!reader

GENRE . . . fluff+angst (deadly combination)

WARNINGS . . . none i'm pretty sure!

WORD COUNT . . . 777 (wow shorter than i expected!)

NOTES . . . here we go with junhyeon!! haha, can't tell if this is supposed to be sad or cute but you can decide that for yourself

dear kum junhyeon,

it's been a while, it has. i like to think that i'm a consistent person, but the last time we talked was almost three months ago, and i just wanna check up on you! i hope your okay, how's the performance art major going? i know your passing with no issue, you've always been insanely talented, i have no doubt that your the star student, especially with how much of a lovable person you are.

i hope you haven't forgotten me, because i haven't forgotten you. i know you've responded to my letters, all of them, but it's been three months, and even though this might make me sound like a clingy bitch, i assume you'd forget me already, because.. i just don't really think i'm memorable. i also just wouldn't be surprised if you forgot me at all, because your busy and having fun, i wish i could be there with you, but the world really just hates my guts.

if your interested, art has been going well. my teachers have told me that my paintings are so good that they could get accepted into an art museum someday, you told me that once, remember? when we were twelve and you saw my painting of that house by the lake, you told me i was gonna become the next 'da vinci', which resulted in me punching you in the shoulder.

i dislike thinking about the fact that we haven't talked for the past few months. i constantly check my phone and frown when i see no notifications from you. did you know, the picture i chose for you is the one from your twelfth birthday, when i put icing on your noise. you always said that photo was embarrassing, but you looked cute, even though you would always vehemently deny that.

it's difficult these days, you know student loans and all, but thinking about you always seems to help me forget about all the horrible stuff going on in my life (you better not call me cringey in the return letter), because.. i don't know, i just like thinking about you for some reason. years ago, i could have never imagined myself saying that, but now, it's kind of hard to go on without you, if you get what i mean.

i could never imagine my life without you years ago..

i hate writing like this, because.. well— i sound stupid when i write about stuff like this. sometimes, i wish i could have convinced my parents to not move me to new york for college, but then again, i am "successful" now, so i guess in the end it all amounted to something. of course, i still have a long way to go, i'm only nineteen, there's still so much for me to do and accomplish, but it's disappointing to think i have done this all without you by my side.

i still have that painting you made me, your a really talented artist, i can't believe you called it "just a small hobby for when i'm bored", when you've made some better paintings than me, and that's saying something. i miss you, like a lot, junhyeon, writing my feelings on paper makes me feel stupid, because expressing myself through writing has always been difficult for me to do, as i've told you before.

i know what we have has always been a little complicated, our feelings are mutual are they not? i'd like to think i'm right in this instance, hopefully, because it would be super embarrassing if i was wrong, but at the same time, how long will it be until we see each other again? how long will it be until i actually get to see you face to face and tell you how i feel all over again?

this is getting kinda depressing, sorry, i just— i really miss you a lot okay? this may come off as desperate and stupid, but honestly, it gets kinda difficult knowing your all the way across the ocean and i could be right there with you if the circumstances were different, but alas, not everything is gonna be in my favor, i realize that now.

anyway, kum junhyeon! it'll be nice to catch up much more personally sometimes, if we ever get the chance to see each other in person once again, which is probably highly unlikely but hey! we all need to have at least a little bit of hope.

of course, make sure to take care of yourself, love, stay hydrated, and get a full eight hours of sleep everyday, i'll talk to you again soon :).

xoxo,♡ y/n

#kum junhyeon #tiot #tiot junhyeon #tiot imagines #tiot x reader #kum junhyeon x reader #kum junhyeon imagines #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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istumpysk · 1 year

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: The Blind Girl (Arya I) [Chapter 45]

Our favourite seafarer has returned.

Her nights were lit by distant stars and the shimmer of moonlight on snow, but every dawn she woke to darkness.

She opened her eyes and stared up blind at the black that shrouded her, her dream already fading.

I realized something.

Arya's temporarily blinded, while Jon will permanently lose an eye.

Jon suffers an injury to his hand, while Arya will permanently lose ... ya know.

Hopefully not. We'll hope for the best!

+.+.+

She licked her lips, remembering. The bleating of the sheep, the terror in the shepherd's eyes, the sound the dogs had made as she killed them one by one, the snarling of her pack. Game had become scarcer since the snows began to fall, but last night they had feasted. Lamb and dog and mutton and the flesh of man. Some of her little grey cousins were afraid of men, even dead men, but not her. Meat was meat, and men were prey.

Can you not.

+.+.+

She padded to her basin on small, bare, callused feet, silent as a shadow, splashed cool water on her face, patted herself dry. Ser Gregor, she thought. Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling. Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Her morning prayer. Or was it? No, she thought, not mine. I am no one. That is the night wolf's prayer. Someday she will find them, hunt them, smell their fear, taste their blood. Someday.

Once again I'm left in the unfortunate position where I have to encourage these thoughts so she doesn't lose Arya Stark.

+.+.+

She broke her fast on sardines, fried crisp in pepper oil and served so hot they burned her fingers.

+.+.+

Someone had entered the room behind her, moving on soft padded slippers quiet as a mouse. Her nostrils flared. The kindly man. Men had a different smell than women, and there was a hint of orange in the air as well. The priest was fond of chewing orange rinds to sweeten his breath, whenever he could get them.

I don't blame him, I hear only the mighty have access to citrus trees.

+.+.+

"And what three new things do you know that you did not know when last you left us?"

"The Sealord is still sick."

"This is no new thing. The Sealord was sick yesterday, and he will still be sick upon the morrow."

"Or dead."

"When he is dead, that will be a new thing."

When he is dead, there will be a choosing, and the knives will come out. That was the way of it in Braavos. In Westeros, a dead king was followed by his eldest son, but the Braavosi had no kings. "Tormo Fregar will be the new sealord."

"Is that what they are saying at the Inn of the Green Eel?"

"Yes."

The kindly man took a bite of his egg. The girl heard him chewing. He never spoke with his mouth full. He swallowed, and said, "Some men say there is wisdom in wine. Such men are fools. At other inns other names are being bruited about, never doubt."

Fregar is a peculiar name.

I have no idea what to make of this. Not sure how the Sealord dying could influence the plot.

+.+.+

It is snowing in the riverlands, in Westeros, she almost said. But he would have asked her how she knew that, and she did not think that he would like her answer.

Careful, don't slip.

+.+.+

"This is good to know. What else?"

"The Merling Queen has chosen a new Mermaid to take the place of the one that drowned. She is the daughter of a Prestayn serving maid, thirteen and penniless, but lovely."

"So are they all, at the beginning," said the priest, "but you cannot know that she is lovely unless you have seen her with your own eyes, and you have none. Who are you, child?"

You slipped.

I can't tell if he knows that she's a warg.

(A 13-year-old mermaid, lol)

+.+.+

"How long must I be blind?" she would ask.

"Until darkness is as sweet to you as light," the waif would say, "or until you ask us for your eyes. Ask and you shall see."

And then you will send me away. Better blind than that. They would not make her yield.

She can have her vision back at any time, but she'll have to leave.

Maybe I overemphasize how hard it will be for her to get out of this situation.

+.+.+

On the day she had woken blind, the waif took her by the hand and led her through the vaults and tunnels of the rock on which the House of Black and White was built, up the steep stone steps into the temple proper. "Count the steps as you climb," she had said. "Let your fingers brush the wall. There are markings there, invisible to the eye, plain to the touch."

That was her first lesson. There had been many more.

Your first lesson? I don't think so, kid. I distinctly remember you already teaching yourself this in another tunnel.

If the room with the monsters had been dark, the hall was the blackest pit in the seven hells. Calm as still water, Arya told herself, but even when she gave her eyes a moment to adjust, there was nothing to see but the vague grey outline of the door she had come through. She wiggled her fingers in front of her face, felt the air move, saw nothing. She was blind. A water dancer sees with all her senses, she reminded herself. She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing one two three, drank in the quiet, reached out with her hands.

Her fingers brushed against rough unfinished stone to her left. She followed the wall, her hand skimming along the surface, taking small gliding steps through the darkness. All halls lead somewhere. - Arya III, AGOT

Funny that it's come up again though.

+.+.+

Poisons and potions were for the afternoons. She had smell and touch and taste to help her, but touch and taste could be perilous when grinding poisons, and with some of the waif's more toxic concoctions even smell was less than safe. Burned pinky tips and blistered lips became familiar to her, and once she made herself so sick she could not keep down any food for days.

+.+.+

Supper was for language lessons. The blind girl understood Braavosi and could speak it passably, she had even lost most of her barbaric accent, but the kindly man was not content. He was insisting that she improve her High Valyrian and learn the tongues of Lys and Pentos too.

Do you have any idea how hard I'll laugh if Daenerys gets caught saying something she shouldn't in High Valyrian?

+.+.+

In the evening she played the lying game with the waif, but without eyes to see the game was very different. Sometimes all she had to go on was tone and choice of words; other times the waif allowed her to lay hands upon her face. At first the game was much, much harder, the next thing to impossible … but just when she was near the point of screaming with frustration, it all became much easier. She learned to hear the lies, to feel them in the play of the muscles around the mouth and eyes.

That's bad news for Petyr Baelish.

+.+.+

Without eyes, even the simplest task was perilous. She burned herself a dozen times as she worked with Umma in the kitchens. Once, chopping onions, she cut her finger down to the bone.

I am no closer to figuring out if she burns her finger(s) like Jon.

Davos watched the hand of the Stranger writhe and curl as the fingers blackened and fell away one by one, reduced to so much glowing charcoal. - Davos I, ACOK

Or cuts her finger(s) like Catelyn.

The thumb of her left hand was covered with blood. When she sucked on it, she saw that half the thumbnail was gone, ripped off in her fall. - Arya V, AGOT

+.+.+

She knew Umma and the servants and the acolytes by the pattern of their footfalls, could tell one from the other before they got close enough to smell (but not the waif or the kindly man, who hardly made a sound at all unless they wanted to).

He's always spotlighting how little sound these people make.

She crept up quiet as a shadow, but he opened his eyes all the same. "She steals in on little mice feet, but a man hears," he said. How could he hear me? she wondered, and it seemed as if he heard that as well. "The scuff of leather on stone sings loud as warhorns to a man with open ears. Clever girls go barefoot." - Arya VIII, ACOK

Barefoot surefoot lightfoot, she sang under her breath. I am the ghost in Harrenhal. - Arya IX, ACOK

Silent as a shadow, she would tell herself, remembering Syrio. - Arya II, AFFC

I know why.

She is standing over me. "Who's there?" Dany peered into the darkness. She thought she could see a shadow, the faintest outline of a shape. - Daenerys III, ADWD

A soft rustle made her open them again. She sat up with a soft splash. "Missandei?" she called. "Irri? Jhiqui?" - Daenerys II, ADWD

Dany flinched. "Who is there?" - Daenerys VIII, ADWD

+.+.+

When the serving men arrived to bear the corpse away, the blind girl followed them. She let their footsteps be her guide, but when they made their descent she counted. She knew the counts of all the steps by heart. Under the temple was a maze of vaults and tunnels where even men with two good eyes were often lost, but the blind girl had learned every inch of it, and she had her stick to help her find her way should her memory falter.

Hahaha.

+.+.+

"Not there," the voice said. "Are you blind?"

She did not answer. Talking would only muddle any sounds he might be making. He would be moving, she knew. Left or right? She jumped left, swung right, hit nothing. A stinging cut from behind her caught her in the back of the legs. "Are you deaf?" She spun, the stick in her left hand, whirling, missing. From the left she heard the sound of laughter. She slashed right.

This time she connected. Her stick smacked off his own. The impact sent a jolt up her arm. "Good," the voice said.

The blind girl did not know whom the voice belonged to. One of the acolytes, she supposed. She did not remember ever hearing his voice before, but what was there to say that the servants of the Many-Faced God could not change their voices as easily as they did their faces? Besides her, the House of Black and White was home to two serving men, three acolytes, Umma the cook, and the two priests that she called the waif and the kindly man. Others came and went, sometimes by secret ways, but those were the only ones who lived here. Her nemesis could be any of them.

[...]

The vault was still and silent. He was gone. Or was he? He could be standing right beside her, she would never know. Listen for his breathing, she told herself, but there was nothing. She gave it another moment, then put her stick aside and resumed her work. If I had my eyes, I could beat him bloody. One day the kindly man would give them back, and she would show them all.

I'm going to give myself a hernia if there's one more reference to secret tunnels.

I'm not thrilled with her sparring with the kindly man, I'd prefer the waif. That last line is especially troubling.

It reminds me of something else.

It would have been a different fight if Jon had been armed with Longclaw, but … - Jon VI, ADWD

+.+.+

She missed the friends she'd had when she was Cat of the Canals; Old Brusco with his bad back, his daughters Talea and Brea, the mummers from the Ship, Merry and her whores at the Happy Port, all the other rogues and wharfside scum. She missed Cat herself the most of all, even more than she missed her eyes. She had liked being Cat, more than she had ever liked being Salty or Squab or Weasel or Arry.

Was that when you spent all your time at the harbor?

+.+.+

I killed Cat when I killed that singer. The kindly man had told her that they would have taken her eyes from her anyway, to help her to learn to use her other senses, but not for half a year. Blind acolytes were common in the House of Black and White, but few as young as she. The girl was not sorry, though. Dareon had been a deserter from the Night's Watch; he had deserved to die.

Sigh.

+.+.+

She had said as much to the kindly man. "And are you a god, to decide who should live and who should die?" he asked her. "We give the gift to those marked by Him of Many Faces, after prayers and sacrifice. So has it always been, from the beginning.

The right message, but a crock of shit coming from anyone belonging to this institution.

They're hired assassins, anyone who pays gets to play god. Did Him of Many Faces mark Balon Greyjoy or did Euron? Yeah, exactly.

+.+.+

I have told you of the founding of our order, of how the first of us answered the prayers of slaves who wished for death. The gift was given only to those who yearned for it, in the beginning … but one day, the first of us heard a slave praying not for his own death but for his master's. So fervently did he desire this that he offered all he had, that his prayer might be answered. And it seemed to our first brother that this sacrifice would be pleasing to Him of Many Faces, so that night he granted the prayer. Then he went to the slave and said, 'You offered all you had for this man's death, but slaves have nothing but their lives. That is what the god desires of you. For the rest of your days on earth, you will serve him.' And from that moment, we were two." His hand closed around her arm, gently but firmly. "All men must die. We are but death's instruments, not death himself. When you slew the singer, you took god's powers on yourself. We kill men, but we do not presume to judge them. Do you understand?"

No, she thought. "Yes," she said.

Sounds like a Valyrian slave was turned into a slave for the Many-Faced God.

And it seemed to our first brother that this sacrifice would be pleasing to Him of Many Faces

Lol?

Kind of like Melisandre and Dam-phair "knowing" what their gods want. Religion must be fun when you get to make up all the rules.

Ah well, at least we got more House of Black and White versus Valyria backstory. It tells me Daenerys and Arya will be the best of friends.

+.+.+

Instead she gave her pox scars and a mummer's mole on one cheek with a dark hair growing from it. "Is it ugly?" the blind girl asked.

"It is not pretty."

"Good." She had never cared if she was pretty, even when she was stupid Arya Stark. Only her father had ever called her that. Him, and Jon Snow, sometimes. Her mother used to say she could be pretty if she would just wash and brush her hair and take more care with her dress, the way her sister did. To her sister and sister's friends and all the rest, she had just been Arya Horseface. But they were all dead now, even Arya, everyone but her half-brother, Jon. Some nights she heard talk of him, in the taverns and brothels of the Ragman's Harbor. The Black Bastard of the Wall, one man had called him. Even Jon would never know Blind Beth, I bet. That made her sad.

My unpopular opinion is that you're being baited if you believe this is a retelling of The Ugly Duckling.

It's okay if Arya doesn't transform into a great beauty.

+.+.+

A wisp of scented smoke hung in the air, drawing her down the winding path to where the red priests had fired the great iron braziers outside the house of the Lord of Light. Soon she could even feel the heat in the air, as red R'hllor's worshipers lifted their voices in prayer. "For the night is dark and full of terrors," they prayed.

Not for me. Her nights were bathed in moonlight and filled with the songs of her pack, with the taste of red meat torn off the bone, with the warm familiar smells of her grey cousins. Only during the days was she alone and blind.

I love everything about that.

+.+.+

No sooner had she settled there and crossed her legs than something brushed up against her thigh. "You again?" said the blind girl. She scratched his head behind one ear, and the cat jumped up into her lap and began to purr. Braavos was full of cats, and no place more than Pynto's. The old pirate believed they brought good luck and kept his tavern free of vermin. "You know me, don't you?" she whispered. Cats were not fooled by a mummer's moles. They remembered Cat of the Canals.

Same goes for mothers.

Careful with that Cat.

"You take one, that's a marriage. The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you're part of him. Both of you will change."

Other beasts were best left alone, the hunter had declared. Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you. - Prologue, ADWD

+.+.+

And later three Lyseni, sailors off the Goodheart, a storm-wracked galley that had limped into Braavos last night and been seized this morning by the Sealord's guards.

The Lyseni took the table nearest to the fire and spoke quietly over cups of black tar rum, keeping their voices low so no one could overhear. But she was no one and she heard most every word. And for a time it seemed that she could see them too, through the slitted yellow eyes of the tomcat purring in her lap. One was old and one was young and one had lost an ear, but all three had the white-blond hair and smooth fair skin of Lys, where the blood of the old Freehold still ran strong.

Cheating during your blind lessons!

But she was no one and she heard most every word.

For someone who continues to struggle with the language of Braavos, you sure learned the tongue of Lys quickly. *glances at the author*

+.+.+

The next morning, when the kindly man asked her what three things she knew that she had not known before, she was ready.

"I know why the Sealord seized the Goodheart. She was carrying slaves. Hundreds of slaves, women and children, roped together in her hold." Braavos had been founded by escaped slaves, and the slave trade was forbidden here.

"I know where the slaves came from. They were wildlings from Westeros, from a place called Hardhome. An old ruined place, accursed." Old Nan had told her tales of Hardhome, back at Winterfell when she had still been Arya Stark. "After the big battle where the King-Beyond-the-Wall was killed, the wildlings ran away, and this woods witch said that if they went to Hardhome, ships would come and carry them away to someplace warm. But no ships came, except these two Lyseni pirates, Goodheart and Elephant, that had been driven north by a storm. They dropped anchor off Hardhome to make repairs, and saw the wildlings, but there were thousands and they didn't have room for all of them, so they said they'd just take the women and the children. The wildlings had nothing to eat, so the men sent out their wives and daughters, but as soon as the ships were out to sea, the Lyseni drove them below and roped them up. They meant to sell them all in Lys. Only then they ran into another storm and the ships were parted. The Goodheart was so damaged her captain had no choice but to put in here, but the Elephant may have made it back to Lys. The Lyseni at Pynto's think that she'll return with more ships. The price of slaves is rising, they said, and there are thousands more women and children at Hardhome."

Yikes. If that doesn't underscore the dangers in believing prophecy, I don't know what will.

More Lyseni ships are going to Hardhome, but I don't think we have to worry about it.

At Hardhome, with six ships. Wild seas. Blackbird lost with all hands, two Lyseni ships driven aground on Skane, Talon taking water. Very bad here. Wildlings eating their own dead. Dead things in the woods. Braavosi captains will only take women, children on their ships. Witch women call us slavers. Attempt to take Storm Crow defeated, six crew dead, many wildlings. Eight ravens left. Dead things in the water. Send help by land, seas wracked by storms. From Talon, by hand of Maester Harmune.

Cotter Pyke had made his angry mark below.

+.+.+

"It is good to know. This is two. Is there a third?"

"Yes. I know that you're the one who has been hitting me." Her stick flashed out, and cracked against his fingers, sending his own stick clattering to the floor.

The priest winced and snatched his hand back. "And how could a blind girl know that?"

I saw you. "I gave you three. I don't need to give you four." Maybe on the morrow she would tell him about the cat that had followed her home last night from Pynto's, the cat that was hiding in the rafters, looking down on them. Or maybe not. If he could have secrets, so could she.

Cheating cheater.

Whatever, I have no problem with it. Use whatever advantage you can when you're in this place.

+.+.+

When her cup was presented to her, the blind girl wrinkled her nose and drank it down in three long gulps. Then she gasped and dropped the cup. Her tongue was on fire, and when she gulped a cup of wine the flames spread down her throat and up her nose.

[...]

And come the morning, when the night wolf left her and she opened her eyes, she saw a tallow candle burning where no candle had been the night before, its uncertain flame swaying back and forth like a whore at the Happy Port. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

I don't think he would have let her pass this part of her development if he knew what she did.

Final thoughts:

Starting from Syrio Forel, Arya's entire arc is a training montage leading to her killing Daenerys.

Where else would this be going? She's not killing Cersei, Baelish will be subjected to a trial, the Night King doesn't exist (and it's Bran's storyline anyway!), the Freys are being handled by Manderly and the brotherhood, and she doesn't require any of these skills for her mother.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #the blind girl #arya i

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fanfic-scribbles · 8 months

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Dinner Date Chapter 27

Masterlist

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Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers has a girlfriend. A prickly, generally asocial girlfriend, but they make it work. They have more in common than some people might think.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 27: Steve Rogers and the Terrible, No Good…Sort of Okay Day

Chapter Summary: Steve has a Bad Day. It’s nice to have a partner who’s willing to make it better.

Chapter Word Count: 2158

A/N: I really wanted to get this out last week, but I kept…getting fucking stuck. But it’s done now. Next chapter I think is going to be a bigger one, unless I manage to pare it down or split it. /fingers crossed. For now, please enjoy an indulgence of comfort.

Steve: So Steve: I hate to ask this but Steve: I’ve had a really bad day Steve: Can you come over to my place tonight instead?

My eyebrows went all the way up. Steve had already not been having a stellar first week back at work after his extended vacation, so this was…concerning.

Me: Are you okay? Steve: Yes Steve: Just…I see your point about being “too cranky to deal with people”

I smiled.

Me: I believe the actual quote is “too fucking cranky to deal with assholes” ;P Steve: :)

Oh no. That was the most insincere smiley ever. If he was hurt he would have told me, so he must have been really upset about something.

Me: Do you need me to bring anything? Steve: No. I’ll order in. Steve: Or bring clothes if you need to? Steve: But you have a couple sets of clothes here still I think Steve: I can go check Me: Don’t Me: It’s fine, I’ll see you tonight

I then added a little kissy face.

Steve: Oh no Steve: You’re being nice Steve: Do I sound that bad?

I rolled my eyes. It really must not have been that bad if he could sass me like that.

Me: Oh fuck you

I then sent a line of hearts. Since he was having a bad day and all.

I made it to his place without catching whatever bad luck streak he’d gotten, and as soon as I stepped in I got wrapped up in large arms and ensconced by an equally ridiculous body as Steve tried-not-tried to suffocate me.

“Are you okay?” I asked and wrapped my arms around him, trying to squeeze in return.

“Just…one of those days,” he said, voice wavering on the last two words so they ended up oddly stressed.

“Everything going wrong?” I asked, sympathetic, because those days sucked.

He huffed. “I think you said it best once…it was one of those days where everything goes wrong but you can’t complain because it all sounds petty and stupid.”

“Oh, I hate those,” I said, emphatic in my honesty, and tried to squeeze tighter. He sighed and slumped and made no move to leave, but I had to start thinking. Steve always took care of my bad days, so it was time to step up. I patted his back and pulled, but he let out a little…not quite a whimper, but it was a sad sound that pulled on my dusty, otherwise-immovable heartstrings. He did let go though, and I only pulled back just enough to look at him. “Okay then.” I held his face. “For tonight, I’m the boss.”

He cracked a small smile. “You mean you’re not usually?”

Hmm…he sort of had a point. “Well I’m not delegating tonight.” I patted my chest. “Gonna do all the work myself.”

His smile faded. “You don’t have t-”

“Shush,” I said and put my finger to his lips. His lips moved and I pushed harder. “I’m the boss and I say shush.”

He rolled his eyes and saluted. “Less sassing, more shushing,” I said and thought about the things that Steve found most comforting. I could have made a list (probably should, someday) but the very basics were: warmth, a full belly, and close contact. “Mmkay. First: go run a hot shower for us.”

“‘Us?’” he repeated hopefully. Then– “Oops; sorry ‘Commander,’” and he mimed locking his lips.

I rolled my eyes. At both comments. He wasn’t getting anything up in his state, being as he looked like he was holding himself upright by a single thread of stubbornness, but I could let him be delusional for a little bit. “S’okay. I know you too well to think you’d shut your mouth for long.” I ran my hand up over his cheek, and tried not to melt when he leaned into it. He was going to be ridiculously cuddly tonight, I could already feel it. “Get the water going. I’ll pick some clothes and lay them out for after.”

His eyes lit up and he went to his assigned task with determination. I scooted over to the bedroom and rifled through his drawers for one of his more worn tank tops, and some sweatpants. The super-soft and ultra-worn ones were askew on the side of the laundry basket, but one thing about Steve was that if he decided he liked a particular set of clothes, he got multiples, so I was able to put together an acceptable outfit for him, and also one for me.

I then went to join him in the bathroom where he looked almost half-asleep just standing outside by the spray. I rolled my eyes– apparently I would need to cut the time I’d planned to spend in there with him, if I was going to get him out safely. But when I nudged him he smiled at me, already looking a little less tweaked at the corners, and I kissed his cheek.

“Good job,” I said and felt the temperature. “And it’s not going to melt us.”

“Tempting,” he said. “But I want you to stay in there with me. Delicate skin and all.”

“Because you’re having a bad day I will not turn the handle to cold and shove you in,” I said. “But only just because. Now strip.”

He smirked, but didn’t say anything. Exhibit B for why he wasn’t up for getting any tonight, but again, I let it go, and we both stripped down and got into his nicely sized shower. There wasn’t much more room than could just about fit us, but there was enough that I didn’t feel claustrophobic. I let him get rinsed down first and watched some of the tension in his body practically wash right down the drain. He was still a little stiff though, and he only just got his body wet before turning to the side and sliding his hand along my lower back to allow the warm water to hit me too.

“Get your hair wet, then sit on the bench,” I said and grabbed his shampoo bottle.

His eyes opened a little wider, but he did as he was told as I poured some of the shampoo into my hand. I then started lathering his hair and his eyes honest-to-god fluttered shut. I started out rubbing gently, slowing adding more and more pressure, and then lightening up when I started with my nails.

He moaned, and I smiled to myself and kept at it. His shoulders drooped and I even dipped my hands down to rub them a little. It was a weird angle though, and between that and the soap I couldn’t dig in, so I stowed that idea for later and went back to massaging his scalp. He seemed content enough with that, though, if the absolutely lovelorn glance he sucker-punched me with was any indication.

However, because I was too…wide, he wasn’t getting any of the water that was supposed to be keeping him warm. I shifted to the side. Not too far– there really wasn’t that much room– but he put his hand on my side to stop me. He quirked an eyebrow, but the water was hitting part of him now, so I shrugged.

“Don’t want you to dry out,” I said.

“I’m not a fish,” he said with a smile to one side.

I considered him…and then made a faux-hawk in his hair, trying to mimic a fin. “Da nuh…da nuh…”

He snorted– then grinned, and dove in to nip at my tummy. I laughed and smushed his hair, and spent just a little more time scratching his scalp before I turned to rinse my hands and grab the showerhead from its perch. As much as I ever hated to leave my apartment, Steve’s had enough creature comforts to make up for it.

“Lean your head back,” I said and he obeyed, shutting his eyes and showing me his relaxed, tired, entirely open and trusting expression.

I put the nozzle to the crown of his head, moving it slowly as I used my other hand to work out the soap with one last, good, quick scalp massage. He was so content already, and that was before dinner even, which was going to be great. Pricey, but great, and I was already making the order in my head.

So I maybe yelped when he suddenly wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer. He pushed his face into my stomach which…honestly made me feel a little weird that it didn’t make me feel weirder. I was naked in the shower with the most handsome and well-built man I’d ever seen, but the way he rested against me was…like it– like I was a comfort, and so I found it hard to be upset by it.

I put my hand on his head and he kissed the patch of skin closest to his mouth. “What’s on your mind?” he asked and sat back.

“I’m planning out dinner,” I said. “We’ll do that pasta place you’ve been hooked on lately. Extra extra garlic bread.”

His eyes widened and he looked at me with so much adoration it almost made me itch. “I love you,” he said.

I smirked. “I know.”

We finished up in the shower and got dressed and made it all the way to the couch before Steve continued to indulge in his super-clingy instincts. Honestly, sometimes it was like he saw me as a teddy bear or something. …Not that I was ever going to complain. Nor would I ever admit out loud that it was fine; that I, maybe, kind of liked it. My reputation was in tatters enough, and he already knew what a damned softie I was.

Case in point– I got through ordering everything for dinner and was on the payment screen when a card slid into my view. I almost thanked Steve for being so proactive when I realized that it was not my card. I rolled my eyes. This again. However I had the upper hand of not having had a terrible day, so I turned my head to try and glare him down only to see…the saddest eyes he could make.

I crumbled almost immediately. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” I said and just barely managed to keep from grabbing his card. “Cheering you up after a bad day, all that crap.”

“This will make me very happy,” he said and held it closer to me.

I rolled my eyes and, after a few seconds and requisite heavy sigh, snatched it. “You are such a fucking weirdo,” I said as I started entering the payment. Steve had never made me feel unequal, like I was freeloading, but it still felt…weird. To receive so much and have him act like it was natural and fine that I hardly paid for anything, and not even because he was ‘the guy’ but just because…because he had money now and was happy to provide.

But those feelings were mine to deal with and now was not the time, so I stowed them and went back to snuggling with my boyfriend while we waited for the food to arrive.

“This is…a good day,” Steve decided, somehow wrapped around and hiding in me both.

“I’m glad.” I kissed his head and went back to stroking his hair. “You can ask me to come over whenever you want. Or need. Whatever.”

“Even if it means you have to leave your apartment?”

“I will, in fact, put on pants and brave the subway for you,” I said, gravely dramatic, but still meaning every word. I lost the exaggerated effect and curled around him. “Also, your shower is much better than mine.”

“I don’t think we could both fit in yours. I’m surprised you can fit in yours,” he said, voice fading a little. “Though I am jealous of your in-unit laundry.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get to give you nice warm clothes this time,” I said. “Though since you were having the ‘every little thing goes wrong’ day, you would have banged your head on the doorway. Or hit your shin on the coffee table. Or hit monster traffic. So staying home was probably the right idea.”

“Mm hm,” was his very sleep-addled reply.

Oh no. I sighed. “Steve,” I said and nudged him, but his body was already heavy on mine. “The food’s on its way.”

“Mm…hm.”

I rolled my eyes, and he was out within the next few moments. I glanced at the clock. Well…the food was going to take a while, given the amount we ordered and the fact that it was peak dinnertime. So maybe he could have a little snooze. I situated us just a little more comfortably, set my phone on the cushion with an alarm just in case, and leaned back to let him have some peace at the end of a long day.

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#steve rogers x reader #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #captain america reader insert #avengers reader insert #dinner date #fluff

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nocturnalghoul · 4 months

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Halcyon

This is one of three fics that I plan to post today on my birthday as a sort of reverse present. It's my birthday and nobody can stop me from OC posting with a little drop of lore mixed in :D ! I'll link the other two fics here and here once I get all three posted

Summary: Frankenghoul and Tempest reflect on their time in the pit versus their time on the surface, and the moments that their life's drastically changed.

FG is they/them, tempest is she/they

Words: ~1.3k

Warnings: light angst in the recollection of bad memories but honestly thats it. It's all good here, just the OCs being nostalgic

Read on AO3 here or below the cut

It is said that there is no changing the past, but unfortunately for the proto-ghoul deep in the woods, there is no returning to it either. All of the ghouls summoned to the surface have widely varying opinions of their time in the pit, but for the first summon it was without a doubt the best era of their long life.

Turning points in one's life can be hard to pin down, but even now they can pinpoint to the minute when their life in the pit went from good to great. The fond memory of a rumbling laugh and a twinkling smile from a charming earth ghoul is still as fresh and exhilarating to remember over a millenia later.

They had come from a well off family in the pit and landed a cushy research job rather quickly, but the first time that they met Kedros was the single best thing that has ever happened to them. Before the two ghouls first meeting was even halfway over they both were already truly smitten with the other. From there the air ghoul’s life in the pit only improved. Their husband, always the chatty and charismatic ghoul introduced them to some of the best people and closest friends anyone could hope for.

Even two centuries post summoning they can’t help but wonder what has become of all the friends they loved so dearly. They hope that the lovely water and air ghoul couple they quickly became best friends with are still prospering and just as hopelessly in love. Each time they think of the couple though, their mind leads them to what is still a sore spot, the couple's daughter.

Both Kedros and them loved that little multi ghoulette as if she was their own, and not knowing whatever happened to her is a trail of thought that rips the blissful memories apart, sending them crashing back to their somber reality. Neither of their friends were particularly skilled with their magic, but that ghoulette had so much potential for good things if given a guiding hand.

They had been diligent before being summoned to mentor the ghoulette and help her air magic grow as much as possible. Hopefully somebody else was able to step in and guide her, but they would give almost anything to be able to see her again and be able to see the wonderful talented ghoul that they surely grew into. The first summon is confident in the strength of their friends to do right by her even after they seemingly disappeared when summoned.

The closing moments of the party they and Kedros were throwing at their simple estate in the pit before the summoning ruined everything is the last thing they can remember from that time in their life.

Meeting Kedros may have been a turning point for the better in their life, but the conclusion of that party was where everything went wrong.

To not only lose all of those close connections, but to live unsure if their husband lived or died for that entire first year was the worst torture they have ever undergone. Their time on the surface has been dark, but those first months of uncertainty were the worst.

Even now, in their worst moments of feeling sorry for themselves they remember their wonderful nights spent amongst friends and dream about someday making it back to the pit to find out how everyone has fared in their absence. They doubt that any of the ones they loved outside of Kedros would recognize their current form, but still they hold out hope that they would still be able to recognize the spirit behind it. For the legacy of their kind heart and deep friendships to be lost completely is one heartache too many for them to possibly consider.

~~~~~

Tempest has never been overly fond of her time in the pit, but it did have a few bright moments in the beginning. One of her fondest memories is of the ghoul that taught her everything she knows about air magic. While one of her parents had an exceptional grasp of the water magic they possessed, the other was never quite elementally gifted and they struggled for it. Luckily for her though, one of her parents' best friends was an exceptional teacher.

The days they spent learning from and practicing with the ghoul are some of her best memories in the pit. All of the happy memories of Tempest’s parents have long since been tainted by the bad ones, but these memories remain untouched in her mind.

It is hard to know the exact point in one’s life that everything went wrong, but they can confidently point to the last time they saw the ghoul they considered an uncle as the moment everything began to slide downhill. The only memory stronger than all the ones she wants to forget is the shining perfect recollection of bright smiles and roaring laughter at the final party her uncles ever threw. It was mere hours after the conclusion of that party that they both disappeared and everything changed.

For centuries their mother threw herself into investigating exactly what happened to her friends. The more time passed, the less time she made for anything outside of obsessing about the disappearance. Slowly her parents drifted apart, as did most of the people she knew and she set out as a full grown ghoul to attempt to move on. As hard as she worked to put the past behind her, she just couldn’t seem to outrun it. Eventually, over a century after the party, she was summoned to the surface and held hope that it would be a chance for them to start fresh.

Tempest’s time on the surface has been wonderful if you exclude the 7 years that they went missing shortly after being summoned. Those years are an era of her life on their own, but the month before them is something that still confuses Tempest. They had heard so much about the abomination that lives in the woods during that time, mostly horror stories meant to scare her away, but for some reason they were intriguing. Maybe it was the fact that they were the only other ghoul with more than one element at the time, but they were always naturally drawn to them.

Sure the proto-ghoul was terrifying, but they couldn’t help themselves. It was almost like they were meant to meet, even though to this day they never have formally met. It was deep in the woods one night looking for them, following that call, that she ran into the whole situation that caused them to disappear.

The proto-ghoul may have ruined the start of her new beginning, but at least the contemptuous weirdo can't ruin the happiness she has made for herself post reappearance. According to Dew, they are barely even aware of her, which in her opinion is quite rude considering the way they almost ruined their life.

At least she learned her lesson and has rebuilt what little happy times she remembers from the pit full of good friends and enthusiastic laugh for herself here topside. It is truly a wonderfully interesting place.

Still, sometimes they can’t help but wonder what became of the ghouls she knew in the pit. Most importantly what became of her mentor? Would they remember her if they ever met again? It’s been so long and she was so young she is not sure that she would even recognize them, let alone the other way around.

Tempest has zero desire to ever return to the pit, but seeing her mentor again or at least knowing what happened would be nice. Maybe someday, but for now all that remains is a pair of names etched into skin as a tribute, one of which she is certain is a name nobody but her remembers anymore. Kedros and Skiron.

#I give you… FRANKENGHOUL NAME REVEAL!!!! But also they dont use that name since coming topside so it is useless :)#and therefore it does not fix my nameless main character problem lol.#nocturnal writings #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost oc #nameless ghoul oc #frankenghoul oc #Kedros (nameless ghoul oc)#Tempest (namless ghoul oc)

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bookwyrminspiration · 11 months

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“how did you even get sick? you look ugly. come here.” For Keefe and Tam? Can be platonic or romantic if you want to do anything for it :). Maybe with cuddles because I, personally, am craving the skin

I love your writing btw please write a book one day <33

That's very sweet of you--I'd love to write several books someday! I've got some concepts up my sleeve already. Also, the way I set up their dynamic (a self-inflicted personal hell) the cuddles aren't as prominent as I would've liked to give you, but hopefully the rest of the fic makes up for that <3

idiot boys and stupid feelings <- ao3 link

warnings: sickness, brief reference of the twin's time banished and all associated troubles, but that's really it!

word count: 6.1k

Watching the sun wallowing, meekly disappearing before an unforgiving horizon as it trailed reds and purples and loud oranges in its wake across the sky was a conflicting sight for Tam, who observed unimpressed from the balcony.

Of all the sunsets he’d witnessed, the view from whatever place this was--Mr. Forkle had told them, but he hadn’t bothered to listen to that part; he’d been more focused on words like “resurgence” and “outbreak” and “victims,” the more important things--wasn’t one to stand out. A simple skyline, typical colors. The sun could do better.

A frown started to surface, but instead of letting it breach, he reached to tug on his bangs instead, the one habit he could never seem to break.

Cool air washed over his face, chilling the drying sweat sticking to his skin, a remnant of the efforts he’d exhausted, that they were all exhausting.

Over an hour ago, their group had dispersed to their various assignments, each to return to Wherever-the-hell once they’d finished their parts; he’d been done first, and was now alone in the hideout--as alone as one could be when they were always watched.

The balcony sat perched over a tumbling, mountainous expanse, sloping down into the night, a twisted metal railing decorated with florals and feathers encasing it. The wide doors were fully open behind him, allowing the light from the room beyond to spill into the creeping night and the cool, fresh air in.

As he stood there, he pretended he couldn’t feel the eyes of this place, examining his hand for traces of shadow, darkness caught under his nails, averting his gaze from that uninspiring sunset. From the memories they stirred.

Another sunset meant another day survived, but another night to face. Time without reliable warmth, with impaired sight, things moving in the night, fitful sleep.

Tam’s mouth twitched, more of the frown slipping out, shoving those thoughts aside and finding the nearest other to latch onto and distract himself.

Which landed him on blonde hair, pale eyes, bags creeping beneath them, charcoal smudges on fingertips.

And something…off.

Of all the people to think about, he didn’t have to settle on Keefe, how he’d seemed…fuzzy, ill-alert, at their “meeting” earlier. There were over a dozen people in the room, and he made it his business to watch each and every one of them, to be prepared just in case--

But, regardless of how many people he observed, his thoughts snagged on Keefe. There was something unspoken about him, something festering, something that had made him want to leave him behind. Give his piece of the assignment to someone else.

Instead, he’d decided that, with the least important piece of their puzzle, Keefe was the least of his troubles.

It had been a surprise, actually, to return to the hideout and find himself the first one back, he’d been so sure that with such a small responsibility Keefe would be impatiently pacing the place, about the track someone down to join them instead of waiting for them all to reconvene while complaining about how miniscule his job had been.

Tam’s thoughts were interrupted by the soft, dragging sound of approaching footsteps.

He stilled, darkness staining his fingers like charcoal as he tilted his head to the side, listening.

They came from somewhere around the hideout, outside, only audible because he, himself, was outside.

Shadows traveled further up his arm, a tactful, slow acclimation to the darkness falling further with each second the sun acquiesced the sky.

The footsteps paused, and in their place a door handle jangled; stone-like, Tam turned just enough to peer over his shoulder, to watch as the door swung open and a particular pale-eyed blond stepped through, hand pushing through his hair, eyes scanning across the room, the empty couches facing each other, barren counters, untouched chairs with throw pillows still dented from over an hour ago.

His eyes missed Tam, skipping past the balcony sheathed in unnatural shadow as he swept the door shut behind him.

Immediately, his facade crumbled, and if Tam said he was surprised he’d be lying.

Keefe’s shoulders drooped, carefully curated carefree expression melting into bland nothing, fingers coming up to hold his temples, traveling back to poke gently at the base of his neck like it ached.

Shuffling, dragging footsteps took him to one of the couches, where he lowered himself as though the weight of the world rested solely on his shoulders.

Tam only watched, squinting to see better.

He wondered how long it would take Keefe to realize he was there, if he even would at all. The thought of how long he could probably get away with it amused him, but slipped from his grasp at the sound of a sniffle.

His muscles tensed once more, ready to make himself known and gone immediately if Keefe was about to start crying, but the sound repeated, and with it, everything from that evening clicked into place.

“How did you even get sick? You look ugly. Come here,” he said, turning fully as he did so, facing his back to the memory of a sunset and inclining his head as he learned against the railing, looking Keefe over from the better angle.

With that angle, he got a good view of the way he jumped, spine straightening and eyes widening, showing the whites all around.

His hands dropped from his head, falling in his lap as he shook himself off, a few precious seconds passing before he had himself sorted. “Were you just watching me? Dude, that’s so creepy.”

Tam ignored the question. “Drop the act, I can see right through it.”

Keefe’s shoulders tightened, and he opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted.

“Don’t even bother to try and lie to me right now. You’ve been off all evening. Now, like I said, come here.” Tam jerked his head towards the spot beside him.

His posture shifted, softening ever so slightly as he glanced between him and the door, as if there was someone else to see. Perhaps waiting for Biana to leap out of the shadows and accost them.

“Why?”

“Fresh air.”

Keefe frowned, leaning back further into the cushions, a slight grate to his voice. “But I just got all that fresh air running around scouting, looking for nothing.”

Tam shrugged. “Fine. Don’t, then.”

Silence fell for only a few short moments before Keefe grumbled something Tam couldn’t pick up, not even with all his practice, pushing up off the couch and stalking over to the balcony beside him, leaning facing out.

At least, Tam thought that’s what he was going for; instead, his feet dragged across the floor and his path swayed, Keefe unable to keep himself moving straight until he slumped against the banister, breath shaky--though he tried to hide it.

“You’re a mess, where’d you even catch…whatever that is,” Tam eyed him up and down, from the wan pallor of his face contrasted with the unnatural flush on his cheeks to the uneven rise and fall of his chest to the unsteady stance of his feet, relying on that railing for support.

Keefe huffed out what might’ve been a laugh. “Wow, thanks. Real supportive. I feel so cared about.” A low sighed rolled between his lips, laughter fading. “I think I caught it from Fitz. He wasn’t feeling great, but I ignored that and insisted we hang out anyway, and now…wait, earlier, did you say ‘all evening?’ Like you’ve been watching me all evening?”

It took Tam a moment to follow Keefe’s disjointed thoughts, lips tightening as he recalled the exact words he’d spoken.

If his cheeks felt warm, it was all the layers, all the black, nothing else. He scowled. “It’s not my fault you’ve had that funk around you all day. It’s hard to ignore.”

It wasn’t, actually; he had more than enough experience curating what, exactly, he paid attention to and was aware of. Pushing Keefe and the haze around him from his mind would’ve been simple enough.

In fact, it took more energy to pay attention than to let his gaze skip past that concealed fog around him. And yet he’d paid attention anyway.

“I think you just like me,” Keefe said, grin pulling at his lips, lifting his head enough to turn and peer at him. The unhealthy flush spread across his cheeks had starting fading to a lighter pink in the cool air, his eyes still dimly alight with fever, he noticed.

His eyes scanned scarred, warm skin, mussed hair, a silhouette backlit by the soft glow of the room beyond, the silence stretching on, his statement unanswered.

Keefe shifted, pushing off the railing to stand straighter, the two of them almost equal in height, though Keefe stood slightly taller and shamelessly used it to his advantage. “We’re alone; you can admit it, you know.”

That was…much more forward than usual.

Tam rolled his eyes. “All I have to admit is how much more annoying you are than I let on.”

“You hesitated.”

“You’re aren’t thinking clearly.”

Keefe shook his head, looking down the few inches he had on Tam, leaning in closer, unconscious of the movement; Tam was very conscious of it. “Uh uh, I may be fuzzy”--he tapped at his temple, blinking as though fighting to keep his eyes open--”but I noticed. You were thinking about it, weren’t you? You’re always thinking about something.”

Tam’s lips pressed together, averting his eyes, scowling. His gaze flickered to the door, fragments of shadows skittered along the edge of the room in tandem. They were alone, but for how long? How long until the rest of their group finished each of their individual scouting missions, returning to catch them too close in the dark?

He’d spent his life with it as his defense, and yet now its charged silence threatened to turn on him.

“You’re doing it again,” Keefe interrupted, the words fumbled, exhaustion creeping its greedy fingertips around the edges, digging its claws into the vowels.

His voice drew Tam’s gaze back, piercing through the dark. Had Keefe gotten even closer?

How had he missed it?

Tam’s body went rigid, the cool air doing nothing to combat the turmoil stirring in his mind, leaving him to fend for himself. “What--what are you doing? Cut it out.”

Brow furrowing, the words took a moment to pierce through Keefe’s thick skull.

When they did, he took a step away.

He opened his mouth, but closed it again, instead letting out a breath, one hand unconsciously rising to rub at the base of his skull, poking and prodding at what he was now certain was a headache.

Tam latched onto it like a lifeline against the sudden silence, the retreat he’d asked for and dreaded. “Have you--hailed Elwin? He always fixes you up.”

Keefe let his prior comments drop untouched, as though they were never there, snorting, “Elwin’s got enough going on with the gnomes and all the councillor visits. I’m not going to bother him with just a”--he gestured at himself--”cold or something. Whatever it is.”

“He’d want you to,” Tam reminded him, trying to be less…whatever it was about him that had Keefe stepping away. Even though he’d told him to.

Keefe had slumped over the banister again, forehead practically pressed to the railing, goosebumps raised across his skin, shivering now instead of overheating. He didn’t answer.

A few shadows slipped forward, invisible against the descending dark, hedging around the edges of Keefe’s shape, hesitating.

“Keefe.”

“Are you going to tell anyone?” It was more exhale than speaking, the words happening to tumble out at the same time, by chance rather than intention.

Tam frowned, only for a moment before he schooled his expression. “What are you even talking about?”

“When everyone else gets back, are you going to tell them?” Without any force, he gestured to himself.

“That you’re sick? Tell them yourself. Probably won’t even have to, one look at you and it’s obvious.”

Keefe sighed in what might’ve been relief. “Thanks.”

Tam crossed his arms, looking away, eyes scanning over the empty room, shadows creeping through the door searching and searching for others, but there was no one to break the silence that fell once more. They truly were alone, just like Keefe had said.

Why? They weren’t supposed to be. Where was everyone else? Why hadn’t they come back yet?

“You,” Keefe started, though he stayed with his head pressed to his arm against the railing, “are one to talk about funks when you’ve got your own all over you.”

“What?”

Keefe waved a free hand, nonchalant. “You’re so worried I can feel it, and I’m not even touching you.”

Tam glanced down to Keefe’s hands, where they rested against the railing. Close enough that they could reach out and touch him, if they wanted to.

He looked away.

“Did I successfully distract you with my charming personality?” Keefe asked, shifting his head so he could look at Tam, the hint of a smile on his mouth. But…less so. Not as wide as he’d been smiling earlier.

“You talk too much,” he scowled, reaching up to tug at his bangs, the scratch of metal against his fingertips comforting.

Keefe made an indignant noise. “You’re the one who started this conversation, creeping on me from the shadows and telling me to ‘come here.’ This one’s on you. If you didn’t want to talk to me, why ask me to come closer to you? Hypocrite.”

Now it was Tam’s turn to be indignant. “You were feverish, I told you to get over here to cool off--and so you wouldn’t infect the room.”

“Nice to know you care.” Keefe mumbled, eyes rolling.

“Of course I do,” he hissed back, then clamped his mouth shut.

Keefe stilled beside him, but Tam refused to move his gaze from where it bored a hole into the far wall, that frown from before resurfacing as his fingers dug into the railing he leaned on, bones and muscle turning to stone.

Silence screamed for long enough Tam was nearly convinced neither of them would ever speak again, and then--

“You’re gonna pass out if you stay so rigid. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to loosen up once in a while?”

Internally, he flinched, but his body remained impassive. He shot Keefe a glare. “You have to make everything into a joke, don’t you?”

It was Keefe’s turn to flinch, scowling as he looked away--but it lacked any real conviction, lethargy dimming the edges as he sniffled, a slight shiver running through him.

Tam’s frown deepened.

He watched--though if you asked if he’d been watching, he’d deny it--as Keefe’s attention snagged on something he couldn’t see, eyes distant as he flexed his hand over and over.

Flashes of cold nights and running noses, flush cheeks and wondering hoping begging Linh to wake, to be well, to push through the haze and find him again passed through his mind. Searching for herbs but not knowing what to look for, never enough supplies, coughs and setting suns and days stretching into weeks into months into eternity as Keefe faded further and further into that haze, away from him.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. “What?”

Somehow Keefe found a way to slump down even further, resting his head on his arm, squished cheek distorting his words as they spilled out, filter breaking like a dam under his exhaustion. “I don’t get you. You say you’ve been watching me all evening and tell me to come stand next to you, and then get all defensive and upset with everything I say. You’re feeling something strong enough I’m picking up flashes through the air, but I’m not touching you and I can’t think straight so I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t feel great. You say you care and then snap at me, what am I supposed to make of all that?”

Outburst over, Keefe stopped leaning on the rail entirely, instead lowering himself to the ground as he rubbed at his neck, still sniffling, staring off into the dark, sun long since gone.

Tam couldn’t help the lurch in his chest at the sight.

Keefe or the darkness, he couldn’t tell, but the jolt was there all the same.

“You must be worse than I thought if you’re getting all emotionally aware on me,” he peered down at him, trying to distract himself from the stone sitting in his chest.

“Seriously? You were just getting on my ass about making jokes out of everything.”

Shadows pulsed under his palms, swirling with an unidentified heat he didn’t want to think about. “Fine. You have a point there. I…sorry.”

“Whatever.”

Keefe made a dismissive gesture up at him, other hand still flexing, eyes closed now as he rested his face against the railing, legs crossed beneath him. It didn’t look comfortable.

After a few terse moments of debate with himself, both sides screaming adamantly, he huffed out a breath and lowered himself down hard, not giving himself a chance to second guess any longer.

“Do you want to read my emotions?”

Keefe sat up in surprise, looking over at the hand extended in offering.

“What? You’d let me?”

Teeth grinding, words slow, “You said you couldn’t tell through the air. Wouldn’t this help?”

Keefe searched his face as though making sure he was serious, and Tam fervently hoped there wasn’t anything to find as he reached to tug on his bangs. “Make a decision before I change my mind.”

That was all the encouragement Keefe needed, gaze sliding down his body--Tam swore he could feel its weight against his skin like static--to his hand, wrapping two fingers around his wrist as though taking his pulse.

Keefe’s eyelids fluttered as he inhaled, sudden and deep, grip tightening, a furrow between his brows as he pushed through his fatigue and into the maelstrom of emotion he’d been complaining about.

Trying not to squirm beneath the scrutiny, all he could do was watch, entirely unaware of what, specifically, Keefe was finding. What he’d learn.

Was this what it felt like when he read people’s shadow vapor, the sitting and the waiting?

Why had he agreed to this?

Why had he even suggested it?

A small, rebellious voice in the back of his head knew why, but he shoved it away before it could put voice to those thoughts.

“What--” Keefe made a face, scrunching up his nose, soft confusion in his tone, “what are you afraid of?”

Tam started. “I’m not--”

“You do realize you can’t lie to me, right?”

Keefe looked at him with an intensity that made him want to knock the look from his face, to turn around and walk into the night.

He settled for pulling his arm away, breaking the connection--or at least, he tried to.

As his wrist slipped from Keefe’s grip, he caught his hand, fingers brushing against his palm as he squeezed tight.

“Wait. I’m…sorry.” Keefe looked lost, fumbling for words, rubbing at his neck with his free hand. “I…didn’t mean to push you. It’s just a really strong feeling. It surprised me. Is it the thing with the gnomes? Because we’re going to figure it out and fix it.”

“I know that.”

“Then what��?” Keefe trailed off, looking lost, brows furrowing as he tried to think through the fog in his mind.

Tam’s grip tightened involuntarily, memories from his and Linh’s Exillium days flashing through his mind. “I don’t like sickness.”

Keefe nodded, still not quite following. “Well duh, no one does, it sucks--”

“It’s not the same for you,” he interrupted, looking away, leaning back against the railings, peering into the night sky as his stomach clenched. “When you’ve been sick, you’ve always been able to call on the best care your world has to offer, just a hail away. All the supplies you could ever need readily available. You’d be better by the morning as though it’d never even happened, just a slight discomfort, comfortable knowing you’d be just fine. You could take a day off, even. You never had to wonder if there was enough to treat you, if you could find what you needed, not sure when she’d get better and if she’d be okay to go to school, or if you’d have to leave her alone to go and get your beads, hoping you wouldn’t catch it because there wasn’t enough to treat the both of you and someone had to get the beads otherwise you’d be left behind.”

Tam cut off, biting his lip, for once not even caring what Keefe picked up on his palm, too distracted as he tried to get the images of Linh’s flushed cheeks, the shadows under her eyes, the tremor in her fingers as she propped herself against the wall, out of his head.

“Linh got sick,” Keefe whispered, more statement than question, but he decided to answer it anyways.

“Bad. It’d started out just a mild cold she must’ve caught from another wayward--fever, sniffles, headaches,” he glanced at Keefe’s flushed cheeks, blinking uncomfortably as he rubbed at his neck, both all too aware how it matched up with his symptoms, “but it didn’t go away. And we didn’t have anything to treat it with. And it got worse. A lot worse. I hated watching the sun set because she always shivered so badly without the sunlight’s warmth, no matter how hot I made my body. But the worst part was the only reason it got that bad was because we didn’t have any elixirs or treatment--but they exist. We just didn’t have access. And yet you do and throw it away,” he added at the end, bitterness coating his tongue.

Keefe swallowed, thumb pressed into the back of Tam’s hand. “I…guess I hadn’t thought about that.”

“No shit.”

For once, Keefe let the attitude slide, an incredibly unsettling phenomenon, because instead he was looking directly at Tam. He was suddenly reminded that with their hands still linked, he could still feel every single one of his emotions.

“What if--what if I promise to take something myself then? I still don't want to bother Elwin--the gnomes have him busy enough--but…you don’t need a physician to take elixirs. There’s probably something somewhere in whatever-the-hell this place is called--I wasn’t listening when Fork man said the name.”

“Me either,” Tam admitted. “It’s probably something stupid. Do you really plan to take something, or are you just saying that?” He couldn’t hide the skepticism in his voice, but Keefe would’ve felt it anyways.

Keefe made an offended noise. “I meant it! I’m trying to make you feel better about your sad life, because Foster keeps getting on my case about being nice to you and she’s so stubborn about it--and maybe I just like you, you ever thought about that?”

Unlike Tam, Keefe didn’t look the slightest bit concerned by the confession, grumpily playing with Tam’s fingers in his hand, poking at the veins beneath his skin. Though maybe he hadn’t thought through the consequences of saying it, or was too tired to.

“Do you?” Tam asked, quiet, braced against the answer.

Was he worried he’d say no?

Or that he’d say yes?

“I do,” he said, eyes on their linked hands, “more than I should.”

A heady rush passed through him, spine tingling as his stomach dropped--relief? Fear?

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Keefe’s already flushed face reddened further, as his brain started to catch up with where the conversation was headed, pressing his lips together as though he could stop it. But there was no way Tam was letting him walk away without answers and Keefe knew it; he’d opened the floodgates, now he had to ride out the wave. It was his own fault, really.

Sighing, he made a non-committal gesture as though that would explain everything. “We both know it would be better for both of us if…if no one had to put up with me. If I could just keep all my problems and feelings to myself instead of everyone else having to deal with the mess.”

Tam made a face, snapping, “You don’t have any right to say what would be better for me. Don’t make that choice for me.”

Starting back a little, Keefe tilted his head to the side, mouth falling open a touch, glassy eyes searching Tam’s.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t get to decide what is and isn’t worth my time.”

Keefe’s breath caught, tongue between his teeth as he ventured, barely audible, “And me? Am I…?”

Tam didn’t answer for a moment, heartbeat screaming in his ears loud enough he could barely hear himself say, “You’re the empath, you tell me.”

A few moments passed, Keefe’s shaking fingers pressing against the lines of his palm with intention this time.

As the shaking spread, Keefe’s eyes widening as he glanced between him and his palm, Tam added, “Why do you think I invited you over here?”

“...Fresh air?”

Tam rolled his eyes, but tried to keep his voice gentle as he stared ahead. “Because…I wanted to keep an eye on you. Because I care and its--fuck it, its worth my time, alright? Don’t make me say it again.”

Against his better judgment, he glanced at Keefe, only to see a shit-eating grin starting to spread across his lips.

“Don’t push your luck,” Tam grumbled, shifting as he reached for his bangs with his free hand, fingers flexing in Keefe’s grip unconsciously.

Keefe nodded, smile mellowing, lingering until it turned into something uncertain. “Where…where does that leave us?”

Tam didn’t have an answer.

“Us?” he repeated instead.

Reddening, Keefe tried to backtrack, though he still didn’t let go of his hand.

But he was all out of words, quickfire mind finally exhausted, nothing left to shield himself as his mouth gaped and closed, nothing to save himself.

As if he’d ever need saving from Tam.

Scowling, he cursed idiot boys and stupid feelings, shaking his head, pressing his palm firmly against Keefe’s, deliberately thinking the words he didn’t know if he could voice again, bringing the feeling to the forefront of his very self.

I care.

Keefe hissed in a breath through his teeth. “I--oh.”

“Oh?”

“Us.”

It was all he said, but it was all he needed to say in that moment, because suddenly it was no longer a question.

It was an undeniable certainty.

“Alright,” Tam said, nearly lightheaded, “us.”

He didn’t think he minded his hand in Keefe’s anymore, whatever he’d find.

He’d already found exactly what Tam had wanted him to, what he’d been unwilling to admit he’d been hoping he would.

A shiver crawled through Keefe’s body, and for a moment Tam became the empath between the two of them. Unimaginable lethargy pulled at his bones, breath labored through narrowed airways, a fog in his mind trying to drag him into darkness.

They’d left his illness unspoken for a moment, distracted by their…whatever that conversation was, but no longer.

“You need to rest,” Tam instructed, gentle, but firm. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, but Keefe wouldn’t make it easy.

That, as expected, sparked something in Keefe, some last ditch effort to pull himself together. “No, there’s the resurgence, and we still have to reconvene with everyone--” “Please.”

The word surprised them both, stopping them short.

That…wasn’t what he’d meant to say.

But something in Keefe looked uncertain, lost, so he said it again. “Please, Keefe.”

“I…okay,” he deflated, words barely a whisper as he gave in, the bravado he’d put on slipping away, leaving him hunched over, sniffling, chills coating his bare arms on the now cold balcony, washed in the light spilling out from the room behind them.

Tam looked him over, nodding to himself--he believed him, that he’d listen for once in his life, though he didn’t know why. It wasn’t like Keefe. “I’ll find wherever their stash of elixirs is and bring them to you--why don’t you sit on the couch, get out of the cold?”

Another tremor ran through him as he finally let Tam’s hand slip from his as the two pushed to their feet in tandem, one much steadier than the other.

And even though their hands didn’t touch, not even the barest of brushes between their fingers, a silent electricity hummed between their bodies, tingling along his skin as they split. Keefe collapsed face first into the couch, groaning, and Tam moved to search the rest of the place in the quiet that followed, haunted by the hollow feeling of skin that hadn’t been touched, but nearly had been.

It didn’t take long for him to find a small, but well-equipped supply of medicinal elixirs, balms, and miscellaneous assortments for small injuries and ailments. He grabbed two he thought would help, shutting the doors behind him as quietly as possible, but they still echoed in the silent place--seriously, where was everyone else?

Had so little time passed that no one else had returned?

He could’ve sworn lifetimes had come and gone on that balcony.

So brief, and yet now the scope of his world had changed, new, undefined tethers drawing him to a certain troublesome boy with no sense of self-preservation or risk sprawled across the entirety of a couch.

Leaning over the back of it, peering down at him, Tam tapped the two vials he held against the back of Keefe’s head, smiling to himself as Keefe swatted half-heartedly at him.

“You already agreed, you don’t get to take it back.”

“I wasn’t going to!” he protested as he shifted to a propped up position, though it had less force than he would’ve expected. “I told you I meant it. I know everyone’s always telling me off for being stubborn, but I don’t always push back. I can make smart decisions.”

He’d believe it when he saw it.

Keefe grabbed the vials, uncorking the first.

Tam blinked as he downed the contents and studiously avoided his gaze. “You’re holding something back.”

Keefe scowled at his matter of fact tone as he downed the second, though his hands shook as he uncorked it. “Fine. Your story about Linh got to me, okay? I don’t want to worry anyone else.”

Of course. He’d never relent for his own sake, only to prevent himself from becoming a burden to others.

Idiot.

Keefe wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, waiting for the elixirs to kick in and for Tam to say something, but he was too busy scanning the room for a blanket, frowning when he came up short. Surely a secret, underground rebel organization trying to fix fundamental problems in their world had enough interior decor sense and time to have decorative blankets somewhere.

Apparently not.

“What are you looking for?”

“A blanket. You’re shivering, but I don’t see any,” he continued, ignoring Keefe’s mouth opening--likely to protest. He always had something to say. Infuriating.

Keefe didn’t like being ignored and rolled his eyes--though he winced with the action, probably aggravating whatever of his headache hadn’t eased yet--and grumbled, “This is ridiculous. I’m not even that cold. What are you even going to do about it without blankets? Share your body heat?”

It took a moment for Keefe to register what he’d just said, but when he did his eyes went wide, mouth snapping shut as he dared a glance at Tam.

He kept his face carefully impassive, but he reached up to tug at his bangs, habit traitorously giving his frazzled state of mind away.

Neither of them spoke for a moment longer--Keefe, because while sick, had the sense to realize he’d given away much more than he’d intended to tonight, and Tam because he had no idea what to do with everything Keefe had given him.

“Careful there, someone might think you actually wanted to be close to me,” Tam deadpanned at last, fingers still in the rough metal, though the joke fell oddly. Like with whatever their new us was, it didn’t fit anymore. Like it was just going through the motions without the venom behind it.

Keefe said nothing, but his gaze flickered, away from Tam’s face--only for a few moments, but long enough for Tam to see him rake it down his body before snapping back, and he could’ve sworn it lingered on his hands.

Tam stopped short, mind going blank. “...do you?”

“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to,” was the answer he got, unable to tell if his flush was from sickness or embarrassment as he refused to meet Tam’s eye.

He gave his bangs one final tug before he dropped his hands, blurting out, “When we couldn’t keep warm in the neutral territories--before we’d learned to regulate our temperatures or when we were too tired--we’d share body heat.”

Keefe’s brow furrowed, looking up at him, uncertainty on his face. “...are you offering--”

“Well if you don’t want to--”

“I didn’t say that! You…you’re warm,” he tacked on at the end, trying to find a suitable explanation, but the hesitation gave him away.

Tam stayed silent for a moment, then, “Sit up.”

“I--huh?”

“I said sit up; you’re taking up the whole couch. Unless you want me to crush you with my body weight, I need space,” he continued, but Keefe was already scrambling to push himself up, freeing up a spot that Tam slid into, breath catching as their arms brushed together.

He’d been close to people before--closer, even, usually with Linh.

But something about Keefe’s arm against his jolted through him, every hair on his body standing on end.

“I’m not going to bite,” he said, amused, watching Keefe sit stunned beside him, rigid as a statue, a cornered animal ready to bolt. “Well, probably not.”

Keefe huffed, something sounding like asshole and fuck it spilling past his lips as he shifted closer, their legs pressing together too now, the static between them building, though neither mentioned it.

Quietly, glancing at him for permission as he did so, Keefe reached out and took Tam’s hand; he felt rather than saw the tremor that rocketed through him at the influx of emotions the touch provided, but Keefe just held on tighter.

Their breaths the only sound, they sat like that, pressed together, until Keefe’s shivers had started to abate.

“How are you so warm?” Keefe mumbled suddenly, starting to melt back into the cushions beside him--whether because he was comfortable or exhausted, Tam couldn’t tell. “You’d think a shadow guy would be freezing.”

“Shadow guy?”

“Shut up. You know what I meant.”

Keefe’s eyes had fallen closed, words slurring, chest moving slow, rhythmic.

Hardly daring to move, Tam watched as Keefe’s muscles gave in to sleep, his head tilting, falling in a slow arc towards him, until Keefe’s cheek was pressed against his shoulder, grip loosening in his hand.

Tam’s breath caught in his throat, but he stayed still--until Keefe started to slip, at just the wrong angle that gravity tried to pull him forward.

Before he could fall further, Tam caught him, grinding his teeth together as he weighed his options.

Gently, he shifted, hardly daring to breath lest he wake Keefe from his much needed nap, and just…adjusted his trajectory slightly.

Instead of falling forward and off the couch, or roughly shoving him back, Tam lowered his head into his lap, hands hovering over the rest of his body uncertainly before he finally let them settle on Keefe’s arm.

A few terse moments later, Keefe gave no sign of stirring, settling into the new position, breaths even--and Tam thought his color had improved too, the elixirs starting to kick in.

There was nothing else to do in the silence that followed but breathe an easy sigh, looking around at the well furnished room--unforgivably devoid of blankets, but otherwise lavish--the steady light, the stable structure, secure in the knowledge that no matter what happened next, he wasn’t--they weren’t--out there still.

That they could get what they needed, and enough of it.

They weren’t the only people looking out for them anymore.

Which brought a different problem to mind: where was everyone else?

Almost as soon as he put thought to the question, something prickled his senses, and the door across the room swung open, Biana bursting in with Linh close behind, breathless.

They stopped short at what they found as Tam tensed, Biana’s mouth falling open and Linh covering a knowing smile with her mouth.

“Don’t you dare say a word,” he hissed, glaring at them, heart pounding.

The glance the two shared and the grins that followed didn’t bode well for him.

But as Keefe shifted in his lap, sleeping peacefully, safely, recovering, skin soft against his own, he couldn’t quite remember why he cared.

#kotlc #kotlc fanfic #kotlc kam #quil's quill #quil's queries #nonsie #look guys I did it! i wrote a fic!#i am putting it out into the world you better be nice with it <3 #also I'm sooo good at titling things <33333 #okay I'll be quiet now enjoy the fic :)#nonsie I hope this satisfies your prompt I kinda created. a whole situation out of it #would've been so much easier if they were already established i don't know why I didn't do that #but hey. love a challenge!#maybe if this isn't enough cuddles I can write a follow up sometime in the future where they're more physically comfortable #i like how I said I'd stop talking and then I didn't #i'l actually stop now. very giddy atm I haven't posted fic in a while this is quite the rush

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