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ay0nha · 8 months

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This world needs sanji ANGST...i haven't seen anything like that that isn't immediatley fluff so plz plz plz do angst OR maybe enemies to lovers but reeealll enemies ther'es gotta be beeeffff

tension. jealousy. protectivness. what the hell. where is it.

thank u :3

Pairing: opla!Sanji x f!reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: canon-typical things, smoking, cursing, the Baratie, mentions of annoying/handsy costumers, RUSHED ending (sorry), etc.

A/N: Hello anon! Thank you so much for the request. I started a little sm sm based of this request and a couple similar ones. It's just a start, so let me know if I should turn this into something more/longer...I have ideas...COMMENTS ENCOURAGED. Enjoy.

PART II

You always preferred sailing on quiet nights.

Fewer lights from the ship scared the stars into submission. It was the only time your shoulders settled and your breaths became leveled. The air’s humidity wrapped you in warmth and the patterned waves lulled your racing thoughts.

Yet, the lights of the Baratie reminded you that those idyllic nights remained only in memory, few and far between. The chatter radiated an aura, which functioned as a reminder of the never ending responsibilities of hospitality.

Your dwindling cigarette marked the time left of your break, but you savored every second. You slouched into your shoulder, head resting softly to the side to acknowledge the footsteps approaching you.

“Sanji.” Even with your back to your newly found company, you knew who had found you. He always had. “If Zeff sent you…” You drew in a deep and finalizing breath, the crackle satisfying in contrast. “Turn around and fuck off.”

The breath of his laughter exposed his delight at your demise. “Your funeral—

“—Our.” You corrected him. Finally offering a glance, you saw he’d replaced his apron for a tie. Always trouble, you thought.

“Nah, you’ll be alright…” He tutted with humor. “Regardless, who can I count on to spit on my grave?”

You hummed to hide a semblance of a smile. Sanji’s charm was worthless to you, never working in his favor. It had taken years of coaxing past vindication to even occupy the same space. So as always, you’d removed yourself to create a more familiar distance.

“Funny.” You only ever entertained him with sarcasm. Flicking your butt into the darkness, you began to walk away. “Just don’t get in the way.”

The night was busy—every night was busy. You hadn’t minded the adrenaline or the late hours. It was what kept you going, kept you from realizing that slowing down would never be an option.

But then the constantly spinning world stopped. Your wrist was caught in the hand of a guest, the very one whose crude remarks failed to cause a reaction. However, your plastered smile only encouraged him. You became a challenge he hadn’t realized would eventually retaliate.

It caused a scene, glass to be broken, and scolding from Zeff that echoed throughout the kitchen. Your pent up venom led you to an ultimatum; cool off or leave. Now, your headache dulled in comparison to the nausea you felt walking back in.

Hearing your name you turned to see Sanji’s face illuminated with his lighter. His eyes were fixed on his task, but you knew he was speaking directly to you. “You’re alright, though? Right?”

It was happening more frequently than you’d like to admit; your sarcastic insult caught in your throat and your breath pinned to the roof of your mouth. Your words were lost. Sanji was responsible for the confusion of feelings and it only furthered your resentment.

Yet, your voice was never found and so you nodded with promise.

Instead, your wrist throbbed and you were sure by the end of the service the bruising would surface. But you rolled it as if the action could wash away the pain. You straightened your posture, pulled a practiced smile, and held a soft air as you began again greeting guests table by table.

The people dining waited their turn just as those rubbing elbows with them. From the decor, the crystal, story of the menu, even you were a part of the experience. Performance was key and you were nothing but stellar at pretending to be someone else.

“Good evening—” You greeted. Your voice could have been mistaken for sultry. Some nights you struggled to recognize yourself. “—I’ve noticed you’re back and your wine is getting low.”

“Always attentive, you.” The Baratie regular reveled in the banter. It was formulaic at this point, but the atmosphere captivated you both.

“I can’t help but play favorites.” You countered, granting a heavy pour of wine into his glass. Your dress cut low, ever dip intentional to distract from the mountain of Berries owed for the aged wine provided.

His eyes took in your figure, falling into the trap. “Apparently, I’ve got competition.”

You wanted to feel good, as you normally did. The fabric complimented your physique and kissed your skin with such sensuality. The feeling of hungry eyes on you never grew old. The assurance was always refreshing. However, there was a weight tonight that wasn’t the fault of the fabric.

“Pirates can never resist treasure.” You pushed past the crack in your demeanor. You smiled wider, but your eyes cast down at your wrist hoping it didn’t reveal too much too soon.

The bark of laughter almost made you flinch. “Not the filthy pirate! Your friend there—” The man continued, complaining about nonsense while raising his already dwindling glass to Sanji. “100 Berries he’s spit in my food.”

That swirl in your chest had just settled, but it returned as your eyes met Sanji’s. His glare wasn’t shy, burning through you. Judgment about your pairing of wine, most likely. Regardless, you noted the fluidity in his movements pulled him closer to you.

The man laughed at the slight staring contest. You internally cursed at breaking first.

“He’s harmless.” You muttered, pouring another serving of wine. Moving your body kept you distracted from the unspoken.

“Harmless?” The man scoffed, inebriation heavy in his inflection.“The scum of a pirate walked—well, crawled really—out of here with nothing but a bloody promise of a slow death.”

You remained light and playful as you finished the conversation, distracting your regular enough to slip away. You made your rounds just as Sanji had, but you were clever to dance around him, avoid him.

It worked at first, but it only aggravated Sanji. He spoke loudly and boldly about the well-known service, slipping in insults and intentionally sabotaging everything you’d just smoothed out. It may not have been intentional. It rarely was if you thought about it, his disappointment reserved for Zeff.

It was as though Sanji had tunnel vision. His upset became yours conscious or not, as every complaint and move he made contradicted yours. It made you trip and stumble. It began to make the night agonizingly slow as he became the barrier between you and the end of the service.

You’d boiled over, pulling harshly on his arm until you both crammed into a blindspot of the rest of the restaurant.

Sanji’s eyes blew wide, but his smirk only widened. Even in his state of mild shock, his mind wandered. “What are you—

You straightened his tie harshly, a threat. “Fix your attitude.”

“Mine?” He countered with disbelief. “If Zeff understood—

“I don’t care about Zeff. I don’t care about you.” You hissed, pushing a finger deep into his chest. Slowly your composure was unraveling, but you regained it quickly, speaking pointedly, “What I care about is this night being over.”

Sanji took the beat of silence to look between your eyes. You were frazzled, your collectedness hanging on by a thread. He could guess why, but you’d never admit he was correct.

“Are you even listening?” You prompted again, ready to move back with utter impatience.

However, Sanji touched the wrist that was within distance causing your body to freeze. “You need ice.”

His hold was gentle, but he felt the heat come from the swelling. The pain was catching up to you.

“Enough.” You spat, wobbling with your steps backward. “Enough of—” Tonight, you wanted to say. The kindness threw you off, made you feel seen in a way you wouldn’t accept. “Just—

“We’ll finish the night smoothly.” Sanji spoke evenly, decidedly for the both of you. “Then, I’ll find ice for you.”

Your chin raised for your childness to surface. “I can take care of myself.”

“I have no doubt.” Sanji felt his emotions settle on his face, the smirk was hard to call on, but the air had become too tense not to with such unfamiliar territory. “But yet, If I don’t help you, you’ll milk it for weeks and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

#QUEUE #I'm nervous writing for someone new #sanji vinsmoke #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece #one piece sanji #opla!sanji x reader #opla #opla sanji #opla!sanji x f!reader #opla!sanji fluff #opla!sanji angst #sanji angst #sanji fluff #sanji x reader #sanji x you

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welcome-to-roomba-fazbender · 1 month

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HAPPY 5TH ANNIVERSERY TO

CHARLIE THE CURSED PHONE GUY

MAY HE STAY WITH US FOR ANOTHER FIVE AND BEYOND!

and now a special message from the man himself.

"Well, Well, Well... look how far we've come huh? Genuinely, honest... And Truly."

"Five years ago I was made and cursed the world of tumblr with my presence, time sure does fly! I've lost a few friends, but gained plenty more in return!"

"I wouldn't even be here today without them, now granted I'm not gonna name EVERYONE! But I am gonna name a select few and tell you how they've impacted me... AHEM..."

"First and foremost the man the myth and the legend the one who is the reason behind everything, the man where if he didn't exist I wouldn't exist!"

"Henr- ... we all know I don't mean him we're talking about real people."

"If your name isn't listed, it isn't because the mod dosen't care but it's because he's a dumbass and these are the ones that came up at the top of his head when writing this post, totally not a forth wall break."

@directdogman

"The Creator of the DSAF/Dayshift At Freddy's Series Direct Doggo himself, sure okay I was a late edition to the fandom.

but it is fully thanks to DSAF 3 and him that I even exist, what can I say about doggo other then what has been said before one thousand times? He is a man of many skills and many talents."

"He is creative, smart and genuinely an inspiration to everyone in the community of both DSAF and Dialtown... no matter how much time has passed, I will personally continue to respect the man I owe everything to him. So thank you doggo genuinely for your support and your amazing games."

@cook-ie-chip

"One of my oldest friends in the community, I've known you since almost the start! we have alot of memories together, some laughs, some cries! you also created my blue prints

(though in lore they were written by henry and will) let's look past that! You remind me of how things used to be a long time ago, and I'm glad to still know you even now."

"and with any hope I'll curse you for many years more."

@lazy-charlie / @chuck-the-fanboy

"I remember how we met, you found me and we both realized we had the same name, and so I decided to charge you extra for like a pizza party lmao."

"But ever since that day we have only grown closer and closer... to the point your apart of the roomba fazbender family [no you will get no discounts] ..."

"You've done so much for me over the years though, you helped create the Roomba's we have here today, you drew some of our lovely walrus friends!"

"AND ... ough... Okay Okay I'll be honest you made Chuck The Fanboy originally a joke just to tease me with, but over the years he's grown on me... DO NOT LET HIM HEAR ME SAY THIS, but he's like a lil bro... and if anything happened to him I'd be devastated."

@clownsuu / @not-robert

"... well well well if it isn't the shadow in black and the big buff zombie, what can I say about both of you?"

"Hmm... Clownsuu here teases me, has DRAWN ME MPREG, HAS DRAWN ME EMO, IS THE REASON WHY THE EVIL VERSION OF ME EXISTS!..."

"and yet life wouldn't be the same with out him, jack is... an anomaly someone I met because someone thought he was stealing me! HA no one can steal this perfect face~"

"Gotta say though, all jokes aside... life just wouldn't be the same without him, alot more boring you know? I must admit he is someone I will never forget, you've also drawn photos of a few of my walrus I still have hung up in my office, I appreciate you for absolutely everything you've done."

"And don't get me started on Robert that big buff baby, I've put him in just about every costume under the sun, and yet he still puts up with me and stays still no idea why. But it's because of him my restaurant has expanded so much, from a bowling alley, a karaoke bar and dumpsters full of meat."

"Don't tell Robert this he'd likely call me an idiot, but guy's one of my best friends genuinely thankfully he's immortal so I'll never worry about losing him but ... the thought still scares me."

"Never change Robert."

@weirdozjunkary

"You turned me into a furry... I got nothin else to say I just had to point that out."

"..."

"Okay, fine you did alot more then that, you introduced me to bedlam someone who can FINALLY truly be a sponge to my cursed and chaotic behavior, honestly I'd hope so considering he's the god of chaos."

"I only met him recently but I'd fuken fight his version of god for him ... seriously don't tempt me I will kick that old man's ass."

"I'm glad to have bedlam in my life and hope I know him for many years more."

@an-artist-place-for-extra-art

"you simp for the evil version of me I..."

"I have no words for you..."

"I just question... why?"

"though honestly? never change, I care for you just the way you are, your amazing."

"Alright, Alright enough of the mushy stuff and forth wall breaks it's messing with my circuits and servo's ahem..."

"The most important thing about this day is one..."

"I'm so fucking cool"

"two"

"I AM NEVER GOING ANYWHERE HATERS, FIVE MORE YEARS AND BEYOND OF ME!!!"

"and three... and most important lore wise"

"HAPPY 50TH ANNIVERSERY TO ROOMBA FUCKING FAZBENDERS!"

"50 YEARS THIS PLACE HAS BEEN OPEN WITHOUT ANY DEATHS JUST A FEW INJURIES AND I'LL TAKE THAT WITH STRIDE!"

"AS THE ULTIMATE FUCK YOU TO FREDBEAR'S AND FAZBENDER ENTERTAINMENT!"

"THE GUY WHO IS A LITERAL ELDRITCH HORROR AND EATS SHOES WITH HIS BOOTLEG RESTURANT LASTED LONGER THEN ALL OF YOU SUCK IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

"... thank you... genuinely out of pocket with full seriousness..."

"thank you everyone for sticking around none of this would be possible without you, and I HONEST AND TRUELY can't wait for another five amazing years."

Moderator Monnie: And happy anniversary to everyone from me to all of you!

Have a fantastic day! and thank ya'll for reading!

#charlie the phone guy #charlie the cursed phone guy #dsaf #dayshift at freddy's #mod monnie #mod post #important #very important post #Happy Fifth Birthday Charlie!#Happy 5th Anniversary Charlie!#Happy 50th Anniversary Roomba Fazbender's (Lore)#Happy Fiftieth Anniversary Roomba Fazbenders (Lore)#Long post #Very Long Post #forth wall break basically the entire post lol

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copperhawkthoughts · 3 months

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Dressed to the Neins 2 - Percy

Ah No Mercival Percival, my beloved…

Rambly design details below the cut!

As I said in the video, the design elements that drew me to this pattern for Percy were threefold:

1. The central four-pointed star motif just really looks like jewellery - something off of a crown or out of the vault of some kind of European royalty. In fact if anybody here reads Girl Genius, it reminds me strongly of the family emblems Gil, Tarvek and Agatha wear at their throats.

2. Paired with point 1, the fact that there is this thin, meandering row peeking out from behind the central motif was too good to pass up - it’s so easy to read that as curse smoke leaking out from collar and cuffs, from behind Percy’s veneer of embarrassed nobility.

3. The last big one is these “trees”, which I took to stand for Whitestone, and symbolize its ruin and recovery.

When it came to picking the colours, this palette was pretty straightforward. The sapphire blue was first - that’s Percy blue. I knew I also wanted to represent Vex in this square, so that’s the peacock teal.

After that we had to have black for Orthax (fun fact - the only other characters to get the true black in their squares are Vax, obviously, and through him Kiki and Vex), silver for wealth and nobility but also the polished gleam of a gun barrel, and white for Percy’s hair and also the sorts of things white usually represents in (western) art.

Last we have brown, for the dying Sun Tree and the ruin of Whitestone, and then that particular shade of green, which represents both the fresh hope of newly budding leaves and is also a little radioactive-looking, representing the residuum whose production and export eventually restore the wealth and power of Whitestone as a seat of innovation and industry.

When choosing the colour placement, I put Percy’s blue + white at the core to represent past & future Percy - the young lordling with the bright future and the fully-fledged Lord of Whitestone, recovered. Also, the alternating rings of colour look like a target :D

Silver borders that, both because it reinforces the visual of a piece of jewellery and also because that way it sort of looks like looking down the barrel of a gun, if that gun was a…four shooter? Look I know that’s not a thing and it’s a stretch but my brain made the association and now I can’t shake it.

The sneaky row is black, of course, and the row after that, which actually obscures a lot of the black stitches by design, is Vex “take off the mask, darling” ‘ahlia’s teal blue. The last two rows of the centre section are silver and Perce blue for the man himself, and the way he builds himself back up, wraps himself in his coat and his dignity and keeps going.

I said enough already on the brown and green rows, so the last two are black (can’t ever truly shake that darkness, Freddie) and white - for healing, for peace, for hair that’d have gone white by now anyway.

If you read all that, wow, thank you. Same bat time, same bat channel next week for Keyleth!

#critical role #dressed to the neins #crochet #cr fanart #vox machina #percy de rolo #granny square #fiber art

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melodramaschild · 2 years

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𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐍

Navigation || SFW

All the sweet forehead kisses, all the pinky holding, all the teasing and all the babying.

But before your relationship, he was so scared to talk to you and tell you he likes you.

He looked (and looks) so tough but you’re his sweet precious darling. One moment he was lecturing and scolding everyone and then you walked in the room, softly reached for his hand and placed it in your lap. Softly stroking his scarred palm and knuckles with your thumb. His hand smelled like red apples and cinnamon. It’s from the creme you bought him. He didn’t even dare to look at you and continued. And then, in the other moment, the tough lecturing Remus was letting his lover doodle on his hand. / “Wow! That’s so lovely, thank you so much, darling!” as he admired your work.

Waking you up right at midnight on your birthday.

“Sweetheart, wake up.” he whispered. “Baby it's your birthday, wake up-”

And then he made you blow out the candles and wish something while he was lullabying you back to sleep. Of course that you cursed him a few times.

Or he would start singing you a Happy birthday, not caring that he will wake up everyone else.

He tried his best to pretend he didn't care but, man, he noticed everything. From the smallest doodle in your notebook to the mark you drew on your school table.

And when you hugged him for the first time... he could explode.

So at the end of the day, he is always looking for your hugs. Just to wrap his arms around you and for your hands brushing through his hair every time before you wish him a good night and sweet dreams.

He loved laying his head on your lap and when you read him out loud. Even when you stuttered and mumbled every word and he had to help you, he loved it.

And he growled every time when you stopped playing with his hair and massaging his scalp.

He loved your hands against his scars. It felt so different from his touch. So tender and loving.

Baking! Definitely baking all the time with him! You were pouting that you can't bake and that you always end up with disaster in the kitchen but he just laughed. He is the real chef here. So you ended up sitting on the kitchen counter while he was making cinnamon rolls and let you talk about whatever was on your mind. He loved listening to you.

And then you were all together drawing into flour: some flowers, stars and hearts and it was a masterpiece. Just like his cinnamon rolls.

Showing each other your favourite music, books, poems, things etc and everything.

Once he found an encyclopedia, at your place, about space and dinosaurs and you were so embarrassed but he wasn't. He was amazed and he asked numerous questions about those topics and how you got into that.

And he let you talk and ramble about it because: it was you, he loved you, he loved how passionate you were about it, actually it was a topic he was also interested in.

So he bought you the Dino plushie from IKEA and you named it Remmy.

So caring that "I think it's your bedtime, darling." and who are you to deny another nap?

Removing your make-up when you were too tired. Putting your creams and oils on your skin, gently massaging it in and his mouth is ajar because he was concentrated.

Doing slow moves and whispering to make you more sleepy.

Brushing your hair and softly caressing your cheek.

Letting you sleep on his chest while holding you so tightly, occasionally giving a peck on your forehead.

Buying books to each other because “It reminds me of you!”

Trips with you by train.

Always here for each other to listen and talk.

Remus cared and loved you all the time, and he always understood you, but when you were on your period, he became a different type of soft person.

He always tucked you in immediately when your school was over. And he always hid you in his jumpers. Because he knew how much you loved them, and how much you were shy to ask for them.

He always so gently put a heating pad on your lower stomach and kissed your forehead.

Soothing you down in your mood swings.

Preparing warm baths and warm soft bathrobes or you.

Washing clothes and sheets that you bleed over, he doesn’t care about a few drops of blood.

Library dates, So so many. Always giggling between books just to be shushed by some old grumpy lady.

Being comfortable in silence with each other.

Taking naps together all the time, tangled in each other.

Getting him wolfsbane for him every month.

Putting him in a warm bath and cleaning his wounds. Washing his hair and body as he is fighting his sleep in the water.

Kissing his scars.

And he kissed yours.

Getting excited about something with each other. Like having a full fandom attack with him and he loved it. He loved how it lit up your eyes. And how your hands started to stim.

And he loved when you sat down in his lap and rambled about your thoughts. And how you get always so excited that you start fidgeting with his hair or with the hem of his T-shirt.

He won’t let you eat and drink anything made from milk, since he knew it always caused you a tummy ache.

And you won’t let him do the hard work, or over-work himself and always remind him to take his stick when he feels like it’s too much.

He just chuckled about it and said something about looking like grandpa. Well, he brought his stick anyway because you kept saying he looked like an old school gentleman.

And he loved when you leaned into his touch. It made him feel less of a monster. Like he’s able to be loved and to love someone.

And he loved when he was reading to himself late at night and you snored, curled yourself into his side and drooled into his T-shirt. It was just so peaceful and domestic. He never told you about it, though.

And he loved when he could read a bedtime story for you. Again, it made him feel needed.

"Y/n, you are my favourite book."

Dancing with you when you were feeling down.

And so damn protective. Hand over your back, over your head, over your hand.

AND REMUS PUTTING FLOWERS IN YOUR HAIR BECAUSE OF THE SONG IF YOU ARE GOING TO SAN FRANCISCO

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x you fluff #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x y/n fluff #remus lupin fluff

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whatislovevavy · 1 year

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I. Piña Coladas and NATOPS

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x afab!pilot!reader

Summary: Mustang and Hangman have had sexual tension since the night they met at the Hard Deck at the start of a high-risk assignment. Each interaction further solidifies your callsign in the best ways.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings:

First part: Sexual tension, smitten and sexually frustrated Hangman, swearing, initially shy reader

Future parts: Sexual tension, swearing, smitten and sexually frustrated Hangman, swearing, and mildly insecure and shy reader, smut; p in v, oral (fem + male) receiving, dirty talk, dom!Jake, hint of sub!Jake

Author’s note: This is the first real fanfiction piece I’ve published. Frankly, I’m not even surprised it's essentially build up for Hangman porn, I’m such a whore for that man it’s not even funny. Also, I’m a proud horse girl so there are some horse things dribbled into the plot. There will be multiple parts because it got hella long as just one fic, so let me know if any of y’all would be interested in reading more parts of this. I did my best to make Mustang’s physical attributes as ambiguous as possible when it came to descriptions to make it more inclusive to the reader. I want to get better at this so please feel free to leave constructive criticism or something you thought was strong or weak with the piece. Please be kind with criticisms. I'm sensitive. I’d like to thank @call-sign-jinx and @sebsxphia for betaing (?) each part of this fic, they’re both really sweet and write some good shit on their blogs, so be sure to check them out.

All of my writings will be added to my writing side blog @sophs-writing-nook

These characters, except for Mustang, are obviously not my own. This is an 18+ fanfic so minors scoot pls. You are responsible for the media you consume. Do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate this fic without my explicit permission as it is my own creation.

Happy reading :)

____

Play a few rounds of pool and darts with his teammates. Throw back a few beers. Find a beautiful woman to warm his bed before his assignment started. That was his ideal night and usually what he wanted, he got.

That was his only plan tonight and he intended to savor every minute checking off each box. He already had the first two accomplished.

A sweet smile and bright eyes paired with a honey-like voice pulled you from his periphery to the center of his attention. Your dress flared around your waist like falling blossom petals and left just enough to the imagination. It was cute and flirty; it sparked something deep in him as he let his eyes unashamedly wander the fabric marked by pink, purple and blue hues. You screamed new, he would definitely have remembered you if you had stepped foot in the navy bar before; you’d be an awfully pretty notch in his bedpost, he thought to himself.

Your quiet and reserved presence made you blend in within the cacophonous Friday night of the Hard Deck. Well, except for him. It was comical watching you try to place your order, struggling to speak up above everyone else at the bar top. Evidently, more of a wallflower, settling near the pool tables and jukebox, nursing a Piña Colada. He caught you observing his pool game with earnestness. Your unique choice of drink, considering that most ordered beers, whiskey neats, and rum and cokes, drew him in. You made eye contact with him at his place at the pool table as he was lining up his winning shot, sending a smirk with a wink as he sank it in with a resounding clank. Every pore in his body seeped charisma and confidence, your eyes darted away, studying your drink as a blush dusted your cheeks.

"Better luck next time, Harvard", Jake said smirking with an extended hand, keeping his eyes on where you were leaning against the wall, now close enough to see the hydrangea flowers gracing your dress that reminded him of his mother’s garden back home in Texas. A begrudged Harvard placed a 20 in his palm, cursing to himself. He was about to request a rematch, but Jake was already swaggering his way to your spot near the jukebox.

Harvard, Halo, Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote watched on with amusement; Jake had a reputation and it was always a source of entertainment for his fellow aviators when he crashed and burned. Bets were thrown around as he made his way to you.

You looked up from your drink and met his gorgeous ever-green forest eyes, panty-dropper smile, and frame that towered over your own. The typically unflattering, standard beige uniform only added to his sex appeal. The material clung to his thick thighs, broad shoulders, and toned biceps deliciously. You resisted your thighs clenching together at the sight of him. A small part of you wanted to caress the balloon of his ego, before popping it with a needle, but a bigger part wanted to succumb to him.

You knew that he was only looking for someone to warm his bed and that this wasn't his first time trying. You didn’t know how to handle this. Sure, you had been hit on in bars and bases before, but this felt different. He was exponentially sexier. Feeling your nerves skyrocket, you would be lucky if you could get a sentence out. Besides, you weren't a hook-up kinda person and he was obviously a cum-and-go kind of man, a being omnipotent in the ways of the man-whore.

"Well, what is a gorgeous woman like yourself doing all alone?" A smooth southern drawl caressing your ears, demanding your attention to his.

You looked at him with a shy gleam in your eye and a blush dusting your cheeks, admiring his eyes, perfect hair, and sharp jawline. "Just enjoying a drink at a new place... and your pool game", you spoke softly, giving him a shy smile, feeling the material of your dress with your free hand and a blush blooming on your cheeks. Sensing more eyes weighing on you, you quickly diverted your attention to his spying teammates. All quickly focused their attention away from the two as you met Jake's eyes once again.

"Well, I’m glad I had the privilege to entertain you,” he winked, “you got quite the drink there,” playfully gesturing to the contents in your glass.

"I guess I kind of stick out like a sore thumb huh?", ending with a nervous chuckle, feeling the heat rise to your face, focusing your attention on the pale yellow, nerve-numbing elixir for what felt like the 20th time this evening.

God, why'd you have to get like this?

It only happened when interacting with people and thankfully not when you were handling a multi-million-dollar F-18 Super Hornet at 8,000 feet or handling a wild mustang in a round pen back on your family's homestead. It was just something you couldn't shake and had always struggled with.

Despite this, you were an outgoing and competitive person, but it only showed in certain cases.

His mischievous smirk widened; you were cute. He'd give you that. You’d be perfect moaning his name under him.

"Do you have a name? Something I can call you by, Darlin'?"

You took a sip, "Mustang".

He admired your alcohol-glazed lips and thought about how your lips would taste, complemented by the sweet flavors of coconut and pineapple with the infusion of spiced rum.

"Mustang", he tried out a suggestive smile adorning his face. His seductive, smooth voice tinged with his southern drawl made your heart flutter a little. “Well, that's a name you don't hear very often. Your mom work with wild horses or somethin’?``His voice tinged with humor, leaning his elbow on the jukebox as he punched in a few numbers.

The early beats of a rock song resonating in the packed bar.

“It's not- It’s my call sign. I grew up on a mustang rescue, working with them and it stuck at the Naval Academy and Top Gun."

Top Gun? He looked a bit taken aback. You didn't really fit the type given how shy you appeared. What are the chances you were on the mission with him? He kept that to himself for the time being.

“You seem surprised to hear that”, you asked with a touch of humor, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, preparing to deal with the ever-present sexism of your job.

“No offense, just not used to seeing accomplished pilots being shy and sporting beautiful sundresses. Don’t get me wrong it’s an appreciated surprise.”

A self-assured smirk graced his carefree features paired with appreciative eyes roaming your exposed collarbones and a tasteful glimpse of your cleavage.

You let out a small laugh, facing your cup and turning back up to gaze into his spring grass green eyes. It was addicting having this effect, appearing one thing but being an entirely different animal underneath. “Well, what can I say, I’m full of surprises.”

"Well, I certainly don't mind that", Jake said with his sly smile as he inched closer to your side of the jukebox. If Jake Seresin had to have a weakness, it was sundresses and women who surprised him.

You felt yourself heat up, taking a drink to calm your nerves, trying to salvage your dignity.

"What about you, have a name? Callsign? Something I can call you by, Darlin'?" You asked, comically mimicking his drawl, testing the waters, feeling the rum easing your nerves. He was broken from his thoughts and felt a smile grow on his face.

"You're funny, sweetheart. Name's Hangman but you can call me Jake for later activities… If that’s what you prefer". His tone is low and sultry, leaning his body onto his strategically placed hand by your head with the same gorgeous smile and playful eyes.

Your eyes diverted from his and skimmed his nametag and badges at eye level; Lieutenant Seresin.

If he hadn't piqued your interest and set your nerves alight, the bare innuendo would have made you balk and slap his perfect face. But he’d probably enjoy that.

Jake waited with slightly raised eyebrows and awaiting eyes for your response, enjoying your flustered state. He could smell the soft lavender shampoo from where he stood. You could smell his cologne; a distinct soothing aroma of cedar wood, ginger, cloves, and bergamot. You resisted letting his scent and close proximity make you feel warm inside.

"That's fairly bold of you to assume that there will be later activities”. A hushed voice paired with a playful gleam flashed in your eyes.

"Well, what can I say? I got my favorite song playing and I'm a hopeful man, especially with that beautiful number on", as he skimmed you up and down appreciatively, eyes landing on your soft breasts, kissable lips, and your clothed hips he wanted to squeeze as he grazed your cheek with his smooth fingertip to push some hair behind your ear. Your eyebrows rose in interest.

“Wanna know why it's my favorite song?” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, tone rich with sensuality, smirking as he felt your breath hitch.

“I’ll give you a hint, it's called Slow Ride.”

Your stomach flipped, feeling your face heat up under his dark jade gaze.

He had you right where he wanted you.

You released a shaky breath, lifting your gaze to the fine features of his face, “That sounds awfully tempting….”

“Hangman”, he added confidently, the same want swimming under the crystal lattices of his emerald eyes.

He could practically feel the bed sheets around you both, hair splayed around you like a halo as he left marks on your perfect skin.

“Hangman,” you smiled coyly, morphing into a humorous smirk, “but I’ve been in the Navy long enough to know what you’re about and I’m not interested in being your conquest tonight... plus I think my friend just arrived,” feeling a swell of pride seeing the hope of a shared bed dissipating from his eyes as well as his smug smirk, internally wincing at your humbling choice of words.

“But on a side note,” you reached the back of his neck to toy with his short hair, soft like you imagined. His stomach fluttered at the feeling of your soft fingers grazing his skin.

“Why would you let yourself get such a stupid callsign? hmm?” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him with a closed-lip smile quirking around the edges.

He felt like he just got in a car wreck with how much whiplash he just experienced, his mind struggling to keep up.

You quirked your eyebrow, awaiting his response that never came.

“Nothing to say? Hmm? I’ll see you around, Hangover”, patting his cheek lightly, smirking, and shooting him a wink as you brushed against him to get to your feet. He was shocked. He couldn’t bring himself to correct you and it didn’t help that he felt his pants grow a bit tighter. Jake heard his teammates’ snickers, and the passing of cash to the respective collector, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t be mad either; it was like watching a fierce butterfly burst from its cocoon of coy glances and small smiles. He couldn’t get enough and hoped he would see you again as he watched your hips sway as you made your way into the arms of your friend: Phoenix.

—

Hangman was pleased to see you sitting in the front of the mission debrief space with an empty, inviting leather seat on your left, scrolling through your phone on top of the light blue NATOPS copy on your lap.

A soft sigh as he set himself down pulled you from your phone to meet the Nomex-clad pilot’s coltish gaze.

You were frankly a bit surprised; you assumed the killer blow to his ego the night before would have made him never want to speak a word to you again. But like you, he was full of surprises it seemed.

“You need something Hangover?” teasing him, raising your eyebrows inquisitively.

“No, Darlin, just enjoying your company,” he smirked, “and it's Hangman.”

You placed your phone on the table and turned to fully face him. He looked just as good as he did last night, much to your annoyance. You were secretly looking forward to seeing him in an outfit that didn’t flatter him entirely, just so you could have an excuse to not like him.

“Look, I may have been Darlin’ to you last night, but here, now that we know we’re both more than qualified pilots for this mission, I’m Mustang to you, and if you think flirting with me is somehow going to make me overlook your Texas-sized ego and obvious disregard for anyone but yourself, your horribly mistaken.” Your voice stern and eyes sharp, vividly remembering his narcissistic spiel the night before.

He felt his core stir.

His eyebrows furrowed, a hint of a smile developing on his pink lips, his toothpick settling into the corner of his mouth. You rolled your eyes. His smile growing.

“Your callsign suits you,” he said gazing at you with a foreign look in his eyes, continuing to move the slender piece of wood around his lips, flipping it over with his tongue.

It took every ounce of resolve in your body to avoid gazing down at his soft muscle, twirling the wood expertly.

You scowled, eyebrows furrowed, expecting some form of disrespect to your challenge. But alas, his behavior made you question his mental fitness as a naval aviator.

Interrupted from your thoughts by being called to attention, rising to your feet with the man next to you, admiring his over-compensated straight posture and broad shoulders from the corner of your eye; the best and worst three weeks of your life were beginning.

#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #glen powell #tgm #top gun maverick #hangman imagine #jake seresin #hangman smut #jake seresin smut

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frodo-cinnamonroll · 1 year

Note

Hi! I know this isn't one of your prompts, but would you mind doing a Frodo x human reader fic in which she's worried that she'll succumb to the Ring like Boromir did and Frodo will despise her for it, and Sam comforts her? Whether or not Frodo hears this is up to you (plus, I feel like how the ring would affect the reader isn't really talked about enough)

Torn in Two

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: none, a little angsty

A/N: This is my first ever request and I had a blast writing it! Thank you! ♥

_________________________________________

“You will destroy us all! Curse you! Curse you!”

The shout came not far away. That alone was worrying, but even more, it was a voice you knew and that was worse. Much worse.

You dashed through the forest, a panic rising in your chest. Your sword was drawn. You feared what lay ahead. You knew not what you might face. Even so, you ran. At last, you caught sight of a figure kneeling on the hill. He was mumbling to himself and seemed to be greatly distraught. You stopped and sheathed your sword.

“Boromir?” You stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Boromir? Brother, what is the matter? Where is Frodo?”

Boromir said nothing. He didn’t look up.

“Where is Frodo?”

You had almost never seen Boromir so troubled. Your brother was strong and fearless. You knew something terrible must have happened.

“He’s gone,” Boromir said, trembling, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s gone.”

“Where to? What happened?” You looked into your brother’s eyes but he did not keep your gaze. Guilt and pain you saw.

“I . . .” he started. “I do not know. He disappeared.”

Your eyes widened. “He used the—it?!”

Boromir nodded and clasped your hands, pressing them to his forehead. “Forgive me! Forgive me!”

“For what? What has happened? You must ell me!”

“I tried to… no!” Boromir shook. “I tried to take it from him! I do not know why. A trance came over me, stronger than any will! I could not resist it! It was as if nothing in the world was of value except that thing. Frodo ran away. He was not hurt. But I tried to take it from him, Y/N!” And with that he wept. You were stunned. Even as you pondered these words Boromir’s face changed and he managed a smirk. “But why not? Why shouldn’t I have taken it? After all, we are doomed if the Ring is in the hands of that…rat.”

“Boromir!”

“What?” Boromir’s face was dark and fell to look upon as he stood over you. “Would you too take us all to our death? Would you march the One Ring straight to Sauron and have us all destroyed? The quest is hopeless! Yet you would counsel that we give the Ring back to the Evil One! No! I will find it! I will have it! I must have it! It is mine!”

“Boromir, no!” You grabbed at his cloak as he started away.

Boromir drew his sword, his face filled with rage and darkened passion. He lifted it high above you, gleaming in a red fire that reflected his face. Then it came down. You screamed.

_________________________________________________

“Boromir!” You sat up with a jolt, your hand over your side where the sword had pierced you . . . or where you thought it had.

The night was dark around you and the world was mostly silent except for the invisible winds whistling quietly over the rocks and lonely clumps of grasses nearby. There was no wound and no Boromir. You sighed, laying your head in your hands. It was all a dream, well, partially. You, Y/N, a daughter of Gondor, Boromir and Faramir’s sister, was one of the Fellowship of the Ring. You had insisted on coming with your brother. Though many laughed at your attempts to fight for greater things because you were a woman and “not a warrior,” you kept on. Mainly that was because you were tired of the dreary, hopeless waiting in Gondor that grew as the days went on, but also you wanted to keep your brother in check. He was dear to you, yet you knew he could be too proud sometimes, and you were one of the only ones who could remind him and keep him steady. And you were one of the only ones he would tell his mind openly to. Yet most of those in Gondor still doubted you.

“One does not need to be a master of the sword to change the world,” you had told them, “one only needs wisdom, courage, and endurance.” Even then, you were very skilled in the ways of swordsmanship, but you did not like to show it unless the need arose. Your brothers had trained you well. Strong and mighty though they were, they still treated you with love and respect and you loved them for it.

But now you were far away from your brothers, though it had pained you to leave them. Faramir had stayed behind in Gondor under his father’s wishes. And Boromir . . . you did not know where he was. Aragorn had sent you to find Boromir since you were his sister and that you did, but Frodo had been nowhere to be found. After Boromir told you what had happened, he was too distraught to go anywhere for a while. You had gone in search of Frodo, and you had found him just before he had left. He couldn’t convince you to stay, and you, Sam, and Frodo had left the company. Now it was your second night since the Fellowship was broken.

You sat back against the cool ledge of rock under which the three of you had taken refuge for the night. Rest seemed far away, for you at least. You looked over at the two hobbits who were sleeping nearby. Sam was unmoved, snoring lightly. His sword was still on his side in case of an emergency and he needed to protect his master. Frodo slept less easily it seemed. His face looked worried, as if he were in a troubling dream. That you did not doubt. Often on your journey since Gandalf had fallen, Frodo had been disturbed by unhappy dreams. It hurt your heart but there was nothing that could be done about it. Even now he mumbled Gandalf’s name, tossing and turning slightly. You watched them, your heart ever filling with love for the small creatures. You could easily see, as you had when you first saw them, how Gandalf so loved hobbits. They were small yet had such courage as many men lacked. In fact, you believed what they lacked in size, hobbits made up for in character. You were thankful to be a part of the journey with them and the others of the Fellowship and to have gotten this far.

As you looked, Frodo turned on his back and you could barely see the cold silver of the chain that he wore, the chain that held the fate of Middle-earth. You flinched when you saw it. So easy it would be to take it and rid the hobbits of the torment and horror that might lay ahead. A valiant deed it would be. Yet, as you thought about these things, something seemed wrong about it all. If you were to take it, trust would be broken. How long could you resist the ever-growing pull of the Ring? How long until you, like Boromir, were driven mad with the desire of it and harmed the very ones you claimed you were helping? Maybe it would have been better if it had just been Sam and Frodo left to take the Ring. Maybe you weren’t meant to be here at all. Maybe . . .

“Worrying about what-ifs is not going to change anything,” you whispered to yourself. “You mustn’t despair now. They need you. It would be foolish to leave them.”

But is it just as foolish to stay? How long can you hold out? How long?

You shook your head. It was as if another voice was whispering into your ear, low and menacing yet almost sweet to hear.

Spare them the pain. Spare them. Take the Ring and spare them of what lies ahead. You know it is the only way. Maybe Boromir was right. Is there any hope with things going the way they are now? Spare them.

“No!” you said to the darkness, as if someone stood before you. “I will not. Indeed I would spare them if I could but it is not my choice to make.”

Think of Gondor. Its power is failing. Think of the deeds you could do to save your people. What honor you would receive!

“I heard what Gandalf said. Only the Dark Lord can use its power and I cannot. The Ring-bearer was chosen and it was not me for a reason. Leave me, you foul voice. Leave me in peace.”

Your head was silent once again. You felt weary in your spirit yet as if you had won a victory, though it seemed small whatever it was. You did not doubt that the temptation would come again. How long could you hold out?

You sighed and laid back down, watching the hobbits rhythmic breaths. Frodo moaned in his sleep, clutching his elven cloak. Sam was motionless and seemed peaceful. Slowly, sleep took over you and you drifted away into dreamless darkness.

________________________________________________

“Miss Y/N,” it was Sam’s voice that pulled you into the morning. “Miss, the sun’s up. I think we best get going as soon as we can.”

You opened your eyes and sat up. The day was dull and soundless but for the Great River roaring not far away. Sam had made a small fire and three small fish were cooking in one of Sam’s pans. Frodo was silent, watching the fire. He seemed deep in thought.

“How did you manage to catch fish?” you asked.

“I happened to find a net in my pack,” Sam said. “I don’t know what from but it’s a blessing for sure. It’s a shame I won’t be able to use it much, considering where we’re going and all, but I thought we should have a good meal before all we have is lembas. It’s not too risky to make a fire, is it?”

“If it smokes,” you looked up at the dreary sky, “but it isn’t. It might be the last fire we will get in a long while, so enjoy it. We should reach those barren hills today.”

Sam nodded and served the fish as best he could manage with the meager spices he had. The three of you ate as slow as time allowed, but you needed to be off soon. When you finished, you packed up what belongings you had and continued your journey once more. You led the way with Frodo behind you and Sam bringing up the rear, not that you knew much about these lands, for it was far away from Minas Tirith and was largely unfamiliar.

The vast terrain before you between the Great River and the Dead Marshes was lifeless and unfriendly. There seemed to be nothing but the brown-gray rock in many forms of jagged hills. You cautiously picked your way between the sheltered clefts, sheer drops, and rugged boulders. For now the Ring was forgotten to you and your mind was only focused on picking the right path, and the safest one at that. Every now and then, you would reach a dead end, some high wall that none could scale or some drop that led to an end that you could not see. However, you did not give up hope and the three of you worked your way backwards and came upon another route that seemed to have appeared only then which had hidden itself from you before. Thus, slowly, you worked towards the Land of Shadow.

But even as the day went on a fog began to grow in the deep crevices of the hills and worked its way slowly upward until it covered everything. You could not see much farther in front of you and it was only thickening. It was as if someone was building up the mist to stop you from going forward, and maybe someone was. It didn’t dampen your spirits entirely, only making the way harder and more troublesome.

Even so, the three of you spoke softly of your homelands far away. You were very interested in life in the Shire and Sam and Frodo told you of what things were like there. They told of the land, their heritage, and happenings of their childhood and whatever they could recall had happened before they left. They spoke lovingly of their home and as you looked at their faces you could see their longing to return to its comforts. Frodo especially seemed saddened and when he spoke of his home, you could see in his eyes that he feared he would never return.

Then you all fell silent for a while, walking in the ever-thickening fog. The end of the day was coming near and the light was beginning to fail. For some reason or another, your heart felt heavier as the day faded. A light rain began.

“We should find somewhere to rest for the night,” you said, peering around you in search of some form of shelter. “I don’t think we shall be able to see much further.”

“I don’t think I can walk much further either,” Frodo said. He swayed a little where he stood. Sam put a hand on his arm to steady him.

“Come, this way.”

You led them to a shallow cave-like opening in the rock and made yourselves at home to the best of your ability. After eating a little lembas, you settled into silence and laid down. Frodo was asleep almost instantly and Sam followed soon after, but you couldn’t shake a rising feeling of dread that seemed distant and near at the same time. An hour or two passed, and you looked out into the fog, waiting for something or someone dreadful to appear. Then suddenly you heard what sounded like the beating of wings coming nearer. The dread was so strong you couldn’t think at first. Forcing yourself to move, you shook Sam and Frodo awake.

“Frodo, Sam, wake up,” you whispered as quietly as you could manage. Your hands were shaking.

The hobbits started awake and the three of you crouched against the rock as far back as it would allow.

“They’ve come,” Frodo whispered.

“It’s only one,” you managed to say.

“But that’s more than we can handle,” Sam said, shaking.

Then out from the darkness there came a cry so piercing and full of hatred and evil power that the three of you covered your ears and lay on the ground in terror. Now you could hear the Nazgûl on whatever evil creature it rode not far above. It shrieked again and Frodo cried out, clutching where his old wound had been. He slowly reached for the Ring on its chain but Sam stopped him. You saw It now, right in front of you and not far from your grasp. Then, in some dream, your hand reached for the Ring under some will that was not your own. You felt the chain cold and heavy in your fingers against the warmth of Frodo’s body. Sam was staring at you with wide eyes but made no move.

Take it. Take it. The voice from the night before was back, luring you. Take it and have it for yourself. Put it on and you can run, invisible and mighty. You can escape the death that awaits. You can escape. Take it now.

Your fingers were inches away from the Ring. All you had to do was take it. But the image of Boromir in your dream flashed through your mind and another of him lying in one of the boats of Lothlorien still and unmoving, floating away to be swallowed up by the sea and stars. Then in an instant something awoke inside you and you reeled back and the voice and terror and evil will passed. The Nazgûl was gone.

You sat back against the wall, breathing heavily and staring out into the distance. Frodo sat up now and looked at you. You covered your mouth with your hand as tears welled in your eyes.

“Forgive me,” you whispered. “Forgive me.”

You stood and, without another word, walked out into the fog. You didn’t go very far, so as to not get lost, but you went as far as you dared. You sat down on a small boulder, heedless of the cold, and let tears fall down your face. You wrapped your elven cloak around you and cried softly to yourself, drawing your knees to your chest. What was the point of all this? The struggle? The pain? Why were you even here in this desolate land? Then your mind went back to the day you had left Gondor with Boromir.

“I’m still not sure about all this,” Boromir said, saddling his horse.

“There are many things we do not yet know, brother,” you answered. “I think we will learn much more in the days to come. Who knows? Maybe one day tales will be sung about us, whatever we are about to do.”

Boromir shook his head with a smile. “Ah, sister. Still dreaming of valor and tales? You may have your chance to be in one yet. But whether or not we are, we must do what is right, honor or no.”

“So you have learned a thing or two from me.”

“Indeed. I have a feeling that more than the lives of our people depend on this.”

“Then let us not forget. Let us not fail. Let us fight to the end.”

You looked back up into the fog, resting your chin on your knees. You breathed the night air deeply. Though it wasn’t fresh or pleasant, you felt a little lighter somehow.

“Miss?”

You turned around wiping the tears from your eyes. The hazy figure of a hobbit stood behind you. “Sam! What are you doing?”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Sam said. “It’s getting quite cold I think. Mr. Frodo’s already out. We should probably get the most sleep we can too.”

“I don’t know that I can,” you said, not looking at him.

Sam sighed and sat down next to you. “I . . . I know you think you . . . well, I know you feel bad for it.”

“For what?”

“What happened . . . with the Ring . . . when the Black Rider came by.”

You looked at Sam and then buried your face in your hands. You couldn’t stop the tears and you didn’t try.

“I’m so sorry!” you cried. “I don’t know what came over me. It was so . . . strong, whatever it was. My mind filled with thoughts of the Ring and some foreign desire made me want it! I do not want it, Sam! I do not! Yet ever since we left it’s tempted me. I understand now why Frodo told me not to come. He saw in me what I could not see in myself. I thought I could resist it, more so than Boromir, but I was wrong. I fear I may succumb to it and be taken by it and who knows what I will do then!” You could say no more and your words were buried in sobs.

You felt Sam’s hand on your arm. “Miss Y/N,” he said, “with all due respect, you seem to have missed something. I’ve noticed how it’s tempted you and made you torn in two. Mr. Frodo has too. But, Miss, you resisted it. When that Black Rider came by, you were drawn to it, sure, but you didn’t let it get a hold of you. You said no. When you did that—now don’t take me for a loon—but when you did that, I saw a light around you. It was as if you had finally overcome it’s call to you and you won, if you understand me. You don’t need to worry about it any more. And even if it does still draw you a little, you’ve got something stronger than it. I don’t know what, but it’s there. Mr. Boromir, he had strength, but he didn’t have all of what you do. It would be more than a shame if you left. I think we’ll be needing you down the road, so that’s why you’d better not leave.”

You looked at Sam in shock and admiration. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do. I may be a bit of a ninnyhammer sometimes but I’m no liar.”

“Oh, Sam!” you hugged the hobbit tightly. “Thank you! Thank you. Bless you, dear hobbit! Gandalf was right, there is more to halflings than meets the eye. Come, let us rest now.”

“Just a minute,” Sam said. “I just want to say, too, that Mr. Frodo, he doesn’t hate you, Miss. He told me just now that when you came back he was going to say something similar to what I just said now, but my poor master can hardly keep his eyes open whenever we stop for the night. He’s fond of you and I am too. Mr. Frodo and I would trust you with our lives, and everything else besides.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” you said softly. “I have never really had friends so close as I have you and Frodo. Thank you for that.”

“Of course, Miss, it’s a pleasure.”

The two of you went back up to the cave where Frodo was at rest. You felt at peace now, at least enough to get through the night. You laid down and closed your eyes, humming a song that you had learned many years before. Such a song had never been heard in those parts in many many years, if ever at all. And over the dreary hills it floated, a sign of hope sailing the wind.

____________________________________

The next day came quietly, and your small group got an early start when the light was still new. The fog still lay thick around the land, but it was thinner than the day before. The misty whisps curled around the shapeless rock forms like ghostly white snakes. Although the day was just about as dreary as the last, you felt more hopeful. You had hardly spoken to Frodo and Sam at all, as there was nothing much to say. You had wanted to say something to Frodo but you couldn’t find the words. You kept glancing at him and opening your mouth to speak but no words would follow.

Just before you thought you couldn’t bear it any longer, the three of you stopped to rest. You sat on a small rock with withering moss clinging to it and looked out into the dissipating fog. You could barely see a glimpse of the Dead Marshes far away. You could smell them too. Nearer by, you could hear what sounded like a trickle of water.

“If my ears aren’t mistaken,” Sam said, breaking the silence, “I think there’s a stream nearby.”

“I believe you are correct, Sam,” you said, glancing around.

“I’ll refill our bottles,” Sam said, grabbing the three flasks you had. Not waiting, he started off with a quick look in Frodo’s direction.

An awkward silence ensued.

“Frodo,” you said at last, forcing the words out.

“Yes?”

“Please . . . please forgive me for what happened last night with the Ring. Sam already spoke with me about it, but I need to tell you myself that I am sorry, terribly sorry, for what happened. I do not think it will happen again but . . .” Suddenly, everything Sam had said the night before was forgotten to you and the tears ran down your face again. “Oh that it should be I that is your worst enemy, and whom you have most cause to fear! It would be better if I stayed here while the two of you went ahead! It would be better if I rotted alone in this desolate place than brought any harm or trouble to you!”

Frodo’s face was filled with sadness when you said this. He squeezed your hand, looking into your eyes with empathy. “No,” he said. “That is . . . nonsense, Y/N. It is a shame to me to hear such a word. I would not hear it of you, and I shall not hear it from you. May Eru judge me by my deserts, and punish me with more bitter suffering than even this hour, if by any act or will of mine anything shall ever come between us!”

“But it is not your act, Frodo,” you said, looking away. “It is mine. It is all my doing.”

“No. No it is not. It is not your fault that we are here. It is not your fault that the Ring came to me. It is not Bilbo’s fault that it came to him. I do not believe it is Gollum’s fault that it came to him either. When we were in the mines of Moria, Gandalf told me this: he said it is not for us to decide the times we see or what we face, but all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. You are not succumbing to the Ring, Y/N. If any of us is, it is me. Last night you resisted and overcame the desire for it. I wish I had the strength to do the same. You have more to you than meets the eye, a hidden strength, I think. I trust you, Y/N, and I believe I always shall. Please don’t forget it.”

You said nothing. You couldn’t. You wrapped Frodo in a hug and cried. Frodo said nothing else and patiently returned the gesture, holding back tears himself.

“So there is hope for this journey after all,” you whispered. “We just might not see it yet.”

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yukidragon · 2 years

Note

Since its almost Halloween can we get some yandere werewolf Joseph head canons, please?!

Ho, hoooo~ That sounds like a fun little AU right there. I hope you don’t mind if I specifically use my version of sunshine, Alice, for this answer. It might help me get inspired to make another AU short fic for her and Jack... or rather Joseph. ;3

Hmm... lots of ways to take this. For example, I could go with a similar angle I used for my Vampire AU, in that everything is basically the same, just Joseph was a werewolf before he died, which now makes him a werewolf ghost(?) who was released from this cursed VHS prison by Alice.

Buuuut that would be Jack and not Joseph wouldn’t it? After all, he would be in the persona of the character of Sunny Day Jack, so let’s go with the college AU as our basis, shall we? I’m sure that version of Joseph would make a fine yandere werewolf.

BTW, for those of you who haven’t seen it, here’s a picture of Joseph in the College AU that Jambeebot/Sauce drew and posted publicly on their twitter.

A tired but handsome lad, perfect for some wolfy shenanigans, don’t you think?

Just as a quick reminder, please don’t repost any of the pictures posted privately on the Snaccpop Studios Patreon. For just $3, you can get a peek of the good stuff, and that’s cheaper than a cup of coffee like the one Jojo here is holding. You could also consider joining the Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack kickstarter. It recently hit $45,000, so the Nick route was just unlocked!

Oh, and while I’m plugging stuff, why not check out Sunshine in Hell or Sunshine in Another World, my Sunny Day Jack fanfics? I’d love it if you read them and let me know what you think.

Also, I want to remind everyone this series is an Adults Only game, and there’s probably going to be a smutty headcanon or two in the bunch. I mean, we are talking about a werewolf AU. I’m practically obligated to mention knotting at least once.

Oh, before I forget, here’s the obligatory tags for @channydraws and @earthgirlaesthetic.

Thanks for indulging my side-tangent, now back to the headcanons.

I haven’t really touched on the College AU before, but now’s as good of a time as any, just with a little supernatural twist to it. There’s not really any “canon” lore to this AU, just Joseph looking pretty stylish as a college student, so I’m just gonna go crazy and have fun with it. Okay? Okay!

First off, it’s modern day, with cell phones, super fancy coffee drink shops, and obscene student loan debts. Joseph’s family/school life has been shit like in the normal universe, with parents who don’t love him (and probably regret ever having him), but he didn’t run away from home (or if he did, he eventually went back). Instead, he doubled down on his education to get a college scholarship that’ll get him the hell away from his shitty home life and hometown.

Of course, being a student reliant on a scholarship for his funds, Joseph has to work his ass off to maintain high enough grades to keep it. This leads to a lot of late nights, dark circles under his eyes, and a rewards card at the local Sunbucks coffee shop that gets used more than his phone. He gets so much coffee there that the barista even learned how to spell his name right!

The college happens to be the same unnamed college that Alice(/MC), Shaun, and Ian attended. Joseph, being interested in acting, winds up in some of the same classes as the three.

Now, we could say things in this continuity are mostly the same as canon, with Alice and Ian dating at the start of college. This would be when Joseph gets to meet his sunshine while being an ordinary college student instead of a ghost(?) clown actor. Jealousy and love triangles ensue.

But, nah, let’s shake that timeline up little more with some of that werewolf spice, shall we? In fact, let’s rewind the timeline just a little to some events before college starts.

Joseph comes from a pack of werewolves. His parents are still unloving and don’t pay attention to him, but man does being a supernatural creature complicate matters even more. There’s the whole pack hierarchy with alphas and what not (which even Joseph knows is something real wolves don’t do, but then again real wolves don’t transform or have supernatural nonsense going on with them either). You have to be the biggest and strongest to get any power or attention, which is more reason for him to go through a rebellious stage... only this period of teenage angst involves fangs and claws instead of a pocket knife.

So why then, did Joseph not run away from home in this universe when things feel even more isolating for him? He did, but this time it was during a full moon after a particularly rough tumble with his pack. He made it to an area without local wolves of any variety, and on that moonlit night he found himself a ray of sunshine.

Alice’s childhood home has a large backyard that leads into a forest. Being familiar with these woods and with no dangerous wildlife to speak of in the area, it wasn’t at all out of the ordinary for her to take a late night stroll. When she heard a faint whimpering, she assumed it was one of the family dogs. What she found in the dim light of the moon and her cell phone’s flashlight app was a juvenile “dog” with dark chocolate colored fur that had a pretty blue shine where the light hit it.

The poor thing was all covered in cuts, and growled at the strange human approaching him when she got close. Alice felt sorry for it, but knew better than to get too close. Joseph wasn’t exactly happy about being found, and was relieved when she left, only to be surprised when she returned with a couple bowls, one filled with dogfood and the other water.

Joseph figured out her misunderstanding and found it kind of funny. This stranger was treating him as a dog more kindly than his parents or his teachers ever did, speaking soothingly and not getting too close. He snubbed the dogfood because he wasn’t that desperate yet, but he was thirsty after running away so far.

Alice smelled pretty nice to Joseph, really nice in fact. He got closer to her to get a better sniff of her scent underneath the artificial perfumes of her soap and deodorant. She knew better than to move when he got closer, lest she startle him, and he decided to be cheeky and lick her hand when he noticed some cookie crumbs still stuck to her fingers.

What Joseph didn’t expect was that Alice took that as a sign he wanted to be petted. It was startling, to say the least. No one had ever pet him before, not even his parents!

Then again, they didn’t hug him either.

It felt... nice. Far nicer than it had any right to feel, especially after he felt so shitty after getting roughed up by his shitty pack. Joseph melted under the touch and leaned into Alice as she used both hands to put him so gently, his tail wagging for the first time in forever.

Werewolves hid among humanity, but didn’t have much respect for them. Joseph didn’t see a reason to respect humans or werewolves, but this one... this one felt nice, really, really nice. Maybe it was just because of the full moon making him feel more wolf-like and instinctive, but he thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be this human’s pet... at least until he recovered from his injuries. He shouldn’t stay too long in case one of his pack decided to track him down to punish him for running away.

Alice felt so warm, and Joseph wanted more of her touch. He could’ve cried when she hugged him and called him a good boy.

Unfortunately, such a beautiful moment didn’t last long, as Alice started to cough and she backed from Joseph while covering her mouth and nose. “I guess your owner’s a smoker, huh?”

Joseph never batted an eye whenever a teacher caught him with cigarettes. Their detentions, wagging fingers, and warnings of the danger of teenage smoking never reached him. If anything, their obnoxious lectures just made him want to cut class to light up another joint. It was only when Alice, the first person to hug him in forever, had to put some distance between them so she could breathe did he regret ever picking up the habit.

Even still, Alice brought Joseph back to her house with the intention of taking him to the vet to get him treated in the morning. The family dogs were wary of him, as was expected since they had a better sense of the danger a werewolf posed, but her human family were welcoming. Fortunately, acting friendly enough convinced them that he simply was a very wolf-like breed rather than an actual wolf, let alone a werewolf.

Still, they kept a more careful distance from Joseph than Alice did. They looked him over, and he allowed a few pets, but none of them smelled as appealing as Alice, or cuddled him like she did. Unfortunately, being indoors made it harder to avoid the smell of smoke, so she was forced to keep her distance.

It made Joseph feel a little lonely.

During the night when everyone was asleep, Joseph raided the fridge in a form that actually had opposable thumbs and prowled around the house. He found Alice in her room, but he couldn’t stay long when she started coughing in her sleep. He did linger long enough to notice that she had some fantasy romance novels, a couple of which involved supernatural creatures like werewolves.

Joseph wanted to stay and get to know Alice, but he was a danger to her. Not only would the pack find him if he didn’t keep going, but something as stupidly mundane as a smoking habit was keeping him away from the first person to make him feel warm and cared for in his life.

That night, Joseph reconsidered what he really wanted. He wanted to find a new life, a better life, one with actual love in it. Before he didn’t know how to do it besides forcing his parents, teachers, peers... just someone to finally look at him like a person and not a burden. Now... now there was a chance. He found a ray of sunshine in his dark life. He had a goal to work towards.

Joseph returned to the pack, but not before getting some information he could use, like Alice’s home address and phone number. He would sneak back to watch her from a distance, waiting until it would be safe for him to see her again. He quit smoking, but it would be a while until he stopped smelling of smoke.

One time when Joseph snuck by to see Alice, he saw a scrawny human boy by her side. It wasn’t unexpected - humans spent time with humans, though it did make him feel lonely to see her spending time with someone else when he couldn’t. Worse, was how much fun they were having, laughing, playing around and joking together. They were close.

Then Joseph caught wind of the boy’s pheromones... and hers as well.

The two of them were attracted to each other.

It irritated Joseph, which wasn’t helped by his nicotine withdrawal. Yes, humans were meant to be with humans, and he was supposed to mate with another werewolf and all that bullshit, but fuck that! He hadn’t even gotten the chance to talk to Alice yet, and here was this little toad daring to hug and lust after the first person to show him just the smallest scrap of warmth.

Joseph couldn’t handle it.

Ian had some incidents coming home from Alice’s house where he was stalked by a wild dog or a wolf that chased after him, snapping teeth and growling. However, it would mysteriously only go after him when he was alone and somehow always avoided his attempts at snapping a photo on his phone. On those nights, he wasn’t even truly safe at home, as he would hear scratching at his windows, only to find nothing there, and he thought he heard whispers warning him to stay away from Alice. It made him paranoid and afraid to walk alone when visiting her, and his mom twisted his experiences as being demonic in nature, a warning that he better not have any sinful thoughts about his friend...

It created some distance between Ian and Alice. They were still friends and still close, but he visited her house less often and felt more anxious about his romantic and spicy feelings towards her. This made it even harder for him to gather the courage to ask her out and try to go from friends to something more.

Which suited Joseph perfectly.

It was at least a year after that first encounter that Joseph arranged an ‘accidental’ first encounter with Alice in his human form while she was out and about in the city. Although she kept a greater distance from him as a human than she did as a “dog,” he managed to act cheerful and friendly enough to get her to lower her guard.

The time waiting to see Alice wasn’t spent idly. Joseph had been preparing for that “first” meeting with her, studying more about how to act than he ever did at school, though he did pull his grades up. He stopped acting out, ironically now trying not to attract anyone’s attention in his hometown, so that no one would realize he was sneaking off.

His pack might have hid among humans, but they kept their distance and felt humans were beneath them. They would never accept Joseph’s obsession with one, not unless he became the leader of the pack and changed the rules, or could earn the right to leave the pack, both of which would require him to battle and defeat the alpha.

It was an exhausting balancing act, but worth it to Joseph. He got stronger, pulled up his grades in school, and visited Alice whenever he could. They became friends, and got close enough they exchanged cell phone numbers. He was elated, and the more time he got to know her, the deeper he fell for her.

Joseph did intend to just befriend Alice, he really did, but when she gave him a hug while he was in his human form, he didn’t want to let her go. He wanted more.

He wanted her to be his mate for life.

You know, sometimes werewolf romances have mystical mate bonds, so let’s go with that. It’d be fitting since it’s similar to the connection between Jack and his sunshine in the main universe. Werewolves have one mate for life when they make the mark and all sorts of perks and all those fun tropes.

Joseph did his best to appeal to Alice, and he was thrilled the first time he caught scent of her interest in him - not Ian or someone else, but him! He nearly acted on it right there, but he knew her better by this point. She was shy, took things slowly, and when sneakily prying about her thoughts on romance, he found out that she’d only want to date someone she was friends with first.

Fine, fine, Joseph could wait. He had to take care of his pack’s potential interference anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to secure a good future too if he was going to start a family. Alice did admit she wanted a big family with a bunch of kids in the future, and he was quite happy to imagine having a whole litter of pups with her.

Joseph managed to defeat the alpha by the time he graduated high school. He could have taken over for the pack, but screw them all. He was free, more or less. He had a scholarship, he made sure to enroll in the same college Alice was attending, and he even managed to arrange it so that they would be staying in the same dorm. He wanted to be roommates with her, but the damn school decided that students of the same gender couldn’t stay on the same floor, let alone share a room.

Now that Joseph finally was free, he asked Alice out on the first day of classes, and she shyly accepted.

The fact that Ian just happened to be in earshot at the time really was a total coincidence. Really.

One date led to more, then a relationship. Joseph was the ideal boyfriend, kind, considerate, and very loving. Alice was wonderful to him as well, so cuddly and affectionate. She made him feel so loved and appreciated in a way no one else could.

Joseph swapped out his nicotine addiction for a caffeine addiction, but that was fine. Alice liked the smell of coffee, and although she didn’t really care to drink it, she didn’t mind the taste of it when he kissed her. After a while the smell of coffee would remind her of him, especially when they kissed.

Now that they had gotten this far, Joseph had to gently warm Alice up to the idea of werewolves. She enjoyed horror movies as well as gothic romances, so he had something to work with, getting familiar with some werewolf romance media to show her and talk to her about. It was so romantic how a human and a werewolf could make a relationship work despite all odds, wasn’t it?

Joseph would feel insecure when Alice made friends besides him, especially if he caught wind of any sort of attraction they had towards her. Shaun also had the annoying stink of cat on him. Joseph was quick to make it clear early on after meeting him who Alice wanted to be with, much to her embarrassment.

After all, she hadn’t been expecting Joseph to (gently) bite her neck while she was introducing Shaun and Joseph to one another.

“Joey!” Alice hissed breathlessly as she pushed Joseph back, her face cherry red. “Not here!”

Joseph chuckled, unrepentant as he admired the new mark he left behind on her skin along with the others that made it clear to everyone that Alice was his. “Sorry, sunshine, I just couldn’t resist.”

During a full moon, a werewolf’s instincts are much stronger, which made it that much harder for Joseph to hold back his urge to mate with Alice. He had to take it slowly with her, mindful of her comfort, but oh how she drove him so crazy sometimes. It seemed to get harder and harder to stop when she signaled an end to their make out sessions, but he would never, ever do anything she didn’t want, even if it left him with blue balls and with the urge to tear something apart in the woods to burn off the extra energy.

But all the waiting in the world is worth it for Alice, as far as Joseph is concerned, especially the night she finally, finally tells him that she loves him. He gently pried for it, not as forward or as confident as he would as Jack in the game, but he was absolutely just as giddy and relieved to hear it.

Needless to say, when Joseph reveals the truth about his werewolf nature to Alice, she’s very skeptical, thinking it’s a prank at first. He offers to prove it and shocks her when he manages to actually transform into a wolf, and a rather sizable one at that. Although intimidating and world changing, she quickly accepts this side of him, much to his delight.

Wolfy cuddles, petting, and tail wags follow... then Joseph reveals his hybrid form, with a human physique and wolf features. (It’s not too much different than Bo’s “feed me” form.)

It happens to be a full moon, and Joseph, high off of her love and acceptance of every side of him, gets very affectionate. Though intimidated and very nervous, Alice consents to going all the way with him for the first time. She marvels at how a big and dangerous werewolf like Joseph can be so gentle... and how many times he can keep going.

It was quite the learning experience for Alice. First she learned that her boyfriend was a werewolf, then just how big he is, and finally that she can handle someone of his size without pain with enough loving preparation beforehand. Joseph made sure to shower her with praise through the experience, especially when she managed to take his knot.

Needless to say, the two of them skip classes the next day. Joseph is only too happy to carry Alice around until she can walk properly again, much to her embarrassment.

The mate marking happens either during their first time or afterwards, but, in any case, Alice is consenting to it. After all, it means she and Joseph can be together forever. She’s never felt so happy and accepted before. How can she say no when he’s such a wonderful guy who loves her so much?

Sure, Joseph gets a bit territorial, and Alice always has kiss and bite marks that she can never quite hide when out in public, but that just shows how crazy he is about her. How can she not find it flattering?

Although Joseph’s size and werewolf nature can be intimidating, Alice isn’t afraid of him. How could she? He’s the sweetest, most gentle, friendly, and loving person she’s ever known. The idea that he could hurt anyone is completely absurd!

Joseph is the happiest he’s ever been in his life. He finally has his sunshine, and, someday, they’re going to have a nice home and a bunch of happy pups to call their own. As long as no one tries to get between them, everything will end happily ever after.

If they do, well... this wolf knows how to hunt.

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #swwsdj #sdj #Werewolf AU #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask #Sauce-y Art

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hopelessrromantix · 2 years

Text

The Jackal and the Bird | 3

chapter summary: Harrow decides to make an unwanted appearance and Steven learns something new.

a/n: enjoy :)

(t/w): m/m, canon-typical violence

for m/nblm, no fem aligned

masterlist

The Hot Guy From Work Kicks Ass

When Steven described his ideal first date, he didn’t think he’d put ‘a deadly car chase with men he didn’t know’ anywhere on the list.

In fact, he’d put it under the Things I Don’t Want to Do column. But he still found himself driving a slow cupcake van, chased by random men who were shooting at him, alongside the hot guy from work.

You were focused on the men behind you. You lacked a gun, instead, you stood at the back of the truck, keeping the doors shut. You directed Steven as best you could, trying to keep him calm. It wasn't really working, but he appreciated the effort. At least you seemed to know what you were doing.

“C’mon, move your arse!” He huffed, slamming the wheel. The older woman in the other car moved aside. “Thank you! So sorry, thank you!” …only for her to flip him off a moment later.

“Charming.”

“Focus, Steven!” You reminded, gripping the door handle tighter when a loud thud sounded in the car. You muttered a curse under your breath, turning your attention to the doors. He didn't know how the hell you weren't getting shot, but he was thankful for whatever luck you were having.

In all honesty, you'd been hit several times by now, though it all healed faster than Steven could see.

You watched him take deep breaths, trying to focus on the road ahead. Confident that it would take a while for anyone to break through the doors, you moved toward the front of the truck.

Steven didn't even realize how much he'd been muttering until you put a hand on his shoulder. He jumped a bit, looking over to you for a second before switching back to the road.

You climbed into the passenger seat, looking at him sympathetically. "I know you're confused, Steven, but just focus on driving for me, okay? I'll worry about them," you assured.

He glanced over to you, hands gripping the wheel so tight he shook. Eventually, he nodded, giving his full attention to the road again.

Unfortunately, one of the men behind you managed to reach the car, shooting open the handles. He staggered his way to the front, attempting to grab onto Steven only to get a cupcake thrown in his face.

It gave you the chance to grab his arm, fully throwing him out of the van. Hopefully, Steven didn't have time to assess your strength.

"I'm sorry about the cupcake," he mumbled, as if the owner could still hear him.

He could hear the sound of you fighting other men, occasionally hearing one of the men yell. He resisted the urge to turn around, willing himself to focus on the road. Though it was tempting, he managed.

The gunshot was what finally made him turn around.

A brought on a strange sensation, though one he was familiar with. Like he was thrown out of his own body. His eyes shifted back, muscles tensing, and then everything went black.

He wasn't sure how long he was out, but when he woke up, things looked a bit different.

He whipped around, looking over his surroundings. The first thing that drew his attention was the gun in his hand. He fumbled with it, finally gripping it tightly.

You sat next to him, though he focused his eyes back on the road as fast as he could.

"Wake up Marc!" A loud voice boomed, nearly startling him out of his skin. “If he loses the scarab, I’ll kill you both!”

Frankly, the giant loud mystery voice was a bit terrifying, so (for now) he’d just go along with it.

“Good shot,” You chuckled, not concerned with the echoing shots from other cars behind you.

“Oh, bollocks, you’re bleeding,” Steven said, tearing his eyes from the road and looking over to your face. Bright red blood was dripping down your face, small drops seeping into your shirt. He barely managed to tear his eyes away, half focused on you and half on the road.

Your brows furrowed, tapping around your face until you felt warm blood. You looked perplexed before humming.

“No worries, it isn’t mine.”

Steven nodded slowly, unsure whether that made him feel better or worse.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Steven complained, half speaking to you and half to the mystery voice in his head.

“Truck, stupid!” The voice shouted.

“What?” He questioned, unsure what was even said.

“Truck!”

His eyes widened, skidding around a truck full of logs before the same feeling of panic took over his chest and his eyes shifted back.

When he woke up again, he was faced with a car driving toward him, several aggressive-looking men staring him in the eye.

“Huh?” He questioned, looking around him before putting the pieces together. “Oh god, I’m driving backwards.”

You were firing off a few shots at the cars in front of you through the broken windshield. He was concerned for your safety, but it seemed like you could handle yourself.

When another man peaked out of the truck, gun pointed at him, he launched the gun in his hand at the car, hoping it would at least crack the windshield.

“Did he just throw the gun?!” The voice questioned. He even heard a quiet sigh from your direction.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t his brightest idea, but in fairness, he had no idea what the hell was happening.

“I don’t know what I’m doing!” He shouted, trying to explain to you and the voice.

“Then leave us be, parasite!” The voice sounded annoyed, as if Steven was nothing more than an inconvenience.

“I know Steven, it’s okay.” You offered, your voice much calmer than the loud one in his head. It was calming to hear you talk, and you brought whatever comfort you could in the confusing mess he was in.

The engine let out a sputter before he felt his vision fade and the tight feeling return to his chest. He looked over at you, confused and afraid before everything faded out yet again.

Waking up was slightly better this time, but anything was better than driving backwards without a license. The engine was sputtering more now, before finally giving out.

“Oh come on, come on!” He yelled desperately, slapping the dashboard as if it would help.

“It’s not exactly made for high-speed chases,” You muttered. You were right of course, but he was hoping that it would start again, even for a little. Just enough to get out of sight.

It didn’t take long for the men to catch up, pulling behind the van.

“Stay here, Steven,” You said. Steven only nodded, completely unsure what to do.

But you barely had the chance to take a few steps before logs came barreling down from the ledge above, slamming into the cars and whoever was standing with them.

Steven let out a rather undignified yelp, “Oh shit!”

Before it all went black again.

Sun streamed through the window, hitting Steven’s side of the bed. He huffed, nearly turning to go back to sleep before he realized what the hell just happened.

He bolted up, wrinkled sheets falling down his chest, covered by a shirt that wasn’t his.

“Oh god,” He muttered, looking around the room.

It certainly wasn’t his flat. It was larger, much larger, and had a separate bedroom.

Glancing down at the bed next to him clued him in though. Your half-asleep form lay next to him, jolted from his sudden movement.

The reality of sitting in a bed, any bed, brought a rush of relief over him. He chuckled, soon fully laughing. Though he was lacking his usual leg harness, there was still a feeling of comfort in knowing he hadn’t woken up halfway across the room and gotten kicked out.

“Oh god,” He mumbled again, this time in relief.

He slumped back into the bed with another harsh movement, now fully waking you up.

“Bit early for you, love,” You said, your voice rough. Marc hadn’t really spoken last night. There was no explanation, no word, nothing. Just a simple good night before he slid into your bed. At least he was still sleeping in the same bed as you.

And that sentence alone almost sent Steven into cardiac arrest.

The way you said it. The gravelly sound of your voice early in the morning was one thing. How strangely domestic it was to hear was another. But what really did him in, was hearing the soft “love” you uttered, staring straight at him.

“You alright?” You questioned, brow lifted.

Steven snapped out of his thoughts, stuttering a bit.

All the while, you were rather confused. Marc wasn’t really a morning person (though he often didn’t have a choice in the matter), but right now he seemed more awake than he was the previous night.

He looked nervous, trying to stutter out a reply. It only took a moment for you to realize this was not, in fact, your husband.

It was somewhat disappointing, mostly because you had a million and one things to ask Marc, but Steven was also a welcome party.

“Steven.” You smiled at him as he nodded softly. His hair was messy, curls frizzy from sleeping on your pillows. You were sure your hair didn’t look much better, but it looked strangely good on him.

“You alright there?”

“Did I have off today?” He questioned under his breath, mostly to himself.

You shook your head. “I may have called us out of work, not like Donna could stop me.” You chuckled. His brow furrowed.

“Oh, it’s Friday. I’ve got off anyway, no need to trouble yourself for me,” He chuckled, looking away from you.

Oh. Right. That.

The main issue with that statement was that Steven still thought it was Friday. Considering that you and Marc had been… busy the past few days, it was most definitely Sunday.

You’d kept Steven out of work, saying the two of you had a family emergency (the look on Donna’s face when you told her you were married was something you’d savor for years).

“Um, Steven,” you said, cringing slightly. “It’s Sunday.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Last I checked, Friday still comes after Thursday,” he joked. You could hear the nervous tone of his voice.

“Sorry, love. Definitely Sunday.” You grabbed your phone, clicking open the screen and showing him the date.

He muttered something under his breath. “I’ve gotta go, yeah?” He hurriedly stood from the bed, nearly tripping over the shoes Marc had left beside the bed. His clothes weren’t nearby, leaving him to nervously look around the room. He let out a small curse, looking back toward you.

“Steven, you can stay, you know?” You reassured. “I like you being here.”

He seemed too nervous to listen to you, like a startled animal looking for a way out.

“No, I just,” He huffed, turning back to you after making sure his clothes weren’t anywhere visible. “I’ve gotta get home. Got a fish, and I’ve definitely gotta get back into work, I mean–”

“Steven. Don’t be so nervous, I want you here.” He still seemed stiff, but the tension stayed in his shoulders. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you, just let me grab you a change of clothes.”

You stood from the bed, clad in only your boxers. Steve froze a bit, but nodded. He didn’t really know where to look, first making clear eye contact before suddenly finding the wall far too interesting.

You chuckled, pulling out some of your ill-fitting clothing and tossing it to him. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but it would certainly do.

“I’ll return your clothes another time, alright?”

He left with a swift nod, barely avoiding hitting his shoulder on your door frame.

You sighed softly at how nervous he was. He was so different from Marc. Marc always held himself with confidence, Steven seemed afraid to just be in your presence.

For now, it was an adjustment you’d have to get used to.

``That’s not Gus, I know that’s not Gus,” Steven mumbled, hand on his chin.

The fish in question was swimming in the tank. The tank that most certainly did not belong to him (whatever that fish’s name was). The now missing Gus had completely disappeared, though Steven doubted he’d gotten up and walked away.

“If you’re Gus, then I’m the bloody queen of Shiba,” He huffed, walking toward his kitchen only to hit his foot against a desk.

He let out an instant hiss, glaring down at the wood as if that would help. But the closer he looked, the more he noticed the odd position.

“What’s this about?” He questioned.

What he hadn’t been expecting was some kind of secret cabinet in his walls.

The only notable item was a cell phone. It only contained two contacts, neither of which were very helpful.

The first titled “Layla”, the second simply labeled “Cariño”

“Alright…” He clicked on Layla, holding the phone up to his ear as it dialed.

“Oh my god, you’re alive!”

A woman immediately answered, surprising him.

“Yeah… alright.”

“That’s it?! I’ve been texting and calling you for months! You couldn’t give me any sign that you were okay? What about your husband?! Have you even talked to him since?!” She let out a heavy sigh, calming herself down. “I thought something happened to you two. Where are you? Where’ve you been? Are you with him now?”

Steven had no idea what to say. First off, this “Layla” seemed beyond upset with him, and next, she was the second person to tell him he had a husband. Apparently.

“Sorry, I just found this phone in my flat and I’m just trying to figure out whose it is.”

There was a beat of silence before “Layla” spoke, sounding even more confused. “What's with this accent?”

“What?”

“What's happening right now? Let me talk to him, okay?”

“Sorry, who? Who do you think I am?”

“What do you mean ‘who’, Marc? Is he not there?”

“What did you just call me? Why did you call me Marc, and who are you talking about?”

He waited for an answered only to hear the buzz of a disconnected line. He pulled the phone away from his ear, mumbling as he dialed again only to receive no answer.

He sighed, slumping in the chair before looking down at the phone again. One more contact, and hopefully this one would be more helpful.

Steven, stop.

A sudden voice made him jolt. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it, he knew that much. But there was no one else in his flat. There never was.

So, he assumed it was him. His head, most likely. Maybe he was just tired.

Steven, no.

He ignored it this time, dialing the next number.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Whatever the hell he was doing, it wasn’t funny.

You usually kept the burner phones Marc gave you in your bedside table. Since finding him again, you’d forgotten your usual routine of staring at the phone, hoping it would ring.

But now? He had to be mocking you.

“Sorry, what?”

You huffed, holding the phone tight against your ear, your grip squeezing the metal.

“Don’t break another one, my friend,” Anubis chuckled, lounging on the couch in your room. You only rolled your eyes at him, but lessened your grip.

“You heard me Marc, this isn’t funny. If you’re trying to make fun of me I don’t get the joke.” This was a call you’d waited so long for, and of course it only happens after you already find him.

“Why do you people keep calling me Marc? I found a phone in my flat, I’m trying to figure out what on Earth it’s doing there.”

“Steven?”

The fury faded out, but came back quickly. Marc told Steven absolutely nothing. Though you didn’t understand their situation, or their relationship, Steven was probably confused as hell.

“Y/n? Why are you a contact on the weird phone in my walls?”

A question you didn’t know how to answer.

“It’s a long story,” you said, internally sighing. “Did you call anyone else?”

“Just some lady named Layla. She called me Marc too. Kept yelling at me for being British. What am I supposed to do about that, change nationality?”

He laughed at his own joke, but you couldn’t bring yourself too.

If he called Layla, that meant she was almost undoubtedly tracking the phone. Which also meant that Marc would not be happy if she ended up in the middle of all this again.

“It’s alright Steven, I know her. She was probably just confused.”

There was a beat of silence, and you were certain you could hear Steven mumbling to himself (something about an annoying mirror).

“Alright then. If you’re sure."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Steven."

"Yeah, um, one quick question. What exactly does 'Cariño mean?"

"Cariño?" You paused a moment. It might overwhelm Steven slightly. You supposed it was more up to Marc than you, if there was a way for Marc to explain. "It's... just a term of endearment in Spanish."

You heard Steven hum. "Right, then. I'll see you tomorrow."

He hung up, the line going silent. You tossed the phone back into the drawer, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Sometimes I still wonder how you fell for a mortal.” Anubis’ voice echoed through the room along with a low-toned chuckle.

You sighed at the comment. Ever since marrying Marc, Anubis asked you that fairly constantly.

“Sometimes I do too,” you hummed in agreement. Marc had his moments, yes, and sometimes you did regret falling for a mortal.

But not because of who Marc is, only that your time with him was limited.

“It couldn’t be Ra?”

You sighed. This was a complaint you got… more often than you like to admit.

“He’s too absorbed with himself,” You waved Anubis off, settling down on the bed again. “And I hardly know what he’s saying half the time, he talks too fast.”

Anubis groaned slightly, that much you both could agree on. “Sekhmet?”

You chuckled, “I’m pretty sure she’d rip my head off before I suggested it. Have you seen her breathe fire?” She was nice enough when she wasn’t angry, but that was rare.

“Min! He was always nice,” Anubis lamented.

You rolled your eyes, “He can’t go a full conversation without flirting with someone. He’d cheat on me within the hour.”

Anubis at least had to agree with that. “Reshep then, he was quite a warrior.”

You raised a brow “Is he even around anymore? Besides, Qadesh would have a snake around my throat in seconds.” You shivered at the idea. Qadesh was always sweet, but that wasn’t someone you were up to testing.

Anubis huffed, the room falling silent for a moment. “I supposed the mortal will do.”

Steven.

He was alone in the flat, he knew that much. Unless he counted Fake Gus, which he wasn’t going to do.

“Hello?” Steven’s head whipped around, looking over his flat from his position.

Steven, you need to stop.

The voice was familiar. The kind of familiar that stings in the back of your mind, as if you aren’t quite sure where you know it from. Had he met them before? Maybe an old friend? A neighbor?

Neighbor, it had to be neighbor.

“Who said that?” He questioned, taking some weary steps toward the center of his flat. It wasn’t the cleanest, which made it hard to see if anyone was there.

You’re gonna get yourself in trouble. Don’t get him involved.

“Oh, no no no, mate,” Steven muttered, nervously chuckling. “Someone’s having a laugh.”

He looked into the mirror to his side, certain he saw his reflection glaring.

“Oh god, oh god.” When he focused, he could only see himself. No one else was there, no one else could be there.

Steven. Stop looking.

The voice was firm, as if speaking to an out of hand child. A pawn that had moved a step out of line.

He swung open the door, spotting nothing. He let out a heavy sigh, muttering ‘bloody hell’ under his breath.

The calm didn’t last long though.

It was taller than him. Much, much taller.

It stalked over him like a predator gazing at weak prey. As if it knew he was nothing more than an ant. And above all, it was fucking terrifying.

He could see through it’s skull, the large, cavernous eyes glaring through him. It looked surprisingly regal, even as it chased him down the halls, the overhead lights blinking rapidly.

It was a bird, that much was obvious. But it most certainly wasn’t alive.

The skin was completely missing, and it sported the body of a human being, a human much to tall to be… well, human.

He wanted to sob. He wanted to scream and run, and he found himself launching into the elevator, pinned to the back as it slowly stalked down the hall.

He made eye contact, or at least he thought he did. The empty sockets made it hard to tell where the creature was gazing.

He was preparing for whatever bony talons it had to come out and grab him when a woman appeared out of nowhere.

“Hold the door,” She said calmly. Thankfully she was close, because Steven had in no way processed her request.

“Thank you,” She offered, nodding at him nervously.

As his heart began to slow, he realized he was half on the ground, probably staring at the woman like she was mad.

“Hiya,” he said nervously, giving her a timid wave as he attempted to recompose himself.

“Hi,” she said, not looking at him for too long. “You alright?”

“Fine, thank you,” He reassured, trying not to let his voice crack. “Just… lost my contact lens.” He propped himself up, standing with the assistance of the rail behind him. Honestly, he was still dizzy from running with so much adrenaline pumping through him.

“Hope you find it.”

The ride was quiet and awkward, though Steven hoped the poor lady didn’t hate him despite how disheveled he was.

“Electrical problems in the building, innit?” He questioned, silently hoping someone besides him had seen everything earlier.

He was gather that the answer was no from how confused the woman looked. “Always the same, innit?” She nervously laughed, clearly uncomfortable. Unfortunately, Steven was just as uncomfortable, and he hardly noticed the way she shifted away from him.

“Are we back on the fifth floor?” Steven didn’t even remember going down. How long was he sitting in the elevator for?

“Yes the fifth,” The woman spoke as the doors opened. “My friend Claire lives here, I’m visiting her. She’s expecting me.”

She pounded on the door, waiting for someone to open it while repeatedly glancing at Steven as the elevator doors closed.

Steven would’ve felt worse it he was more focused. His heart was still beating fast, air still unable to stay in his lungs. As if he just couldn’t inhale enough.

The next day wasn’t much better.

He swore he spotted the skeletal bird again on his way to work. That and the man from his dream was following him.

He tried to brush it off, he really did. But even though he knew he sounded insane, he still asked J.B. not to let anyone in. Not that he agreed.

It wasn’t until he saw the man from the bus again that he truly freaked out.

Your day was less eventful so far. Donna had complimented another of your suits for the third time that day, Anubis was chatting about how he disliked Marc, and the museum was just as full as usual.

It wasn’t until you saw Harrow sneaking around that you thought anything was amiss.

You approached him without hesitation, hoping Steven wouldn’t spot him.

“Is this your brightest plan?” You questioned, looking over the odd group who seemed to linger by him, no doubt his followers. “You had to know I’d be here, or did I evade your sight?”

He looked slightly surprised, though you had to admit that he covered it well. If you were human you might’ve missed it. It seems he truly didn’t expect you there. Interesting.

“The half-god. Have I done something to upset you?” He questioned. Half was a techniq

“The half-god. Have I done something to upset you?” He questioned. Half was a technicality, but who was really keeping track at this point.

“Leave Steven out of this. He doesn’t have your scarab. Move on to whatever being you have murder next.”

Harrow only hummed at your words, opening his mouth to retort when another voice interrupted.

“Y/n…?” Steven’s meek voice drew your attention. He looked confused, as if he’d spent time gathering the courage just to say something. “Do… do you know him?”

You glared at Harrow, watching as he completely turned his back to you. A bold move.

“Not in a way that matters.”

“So you really do work here,” Harrow began, disrupting your conversation with Steven.

Steven mumbled something under his breath, nervously grasping at the strap of his bag.

“I assumed ‘Steven Grant’ was an alias. Imagine my surprise to find you here.” Part of you was pissed that Steven had to mention his actual name, though you knew Harrow would’ve found him either way.

“Ronnie!” Steven turned, trying to grab the attention of a nearby security guard. “This man right here has been following me, now, I don’t know if—”

Steven was cut off by the guard rolling up his sleeve, revealing a tattoo of balanced scales. “Praise Ammit.”

Steven looked surprisingly hurt, “Ronnie? You’re part of this?” He huffed at the lack of response, turning back to Harrow. “Mate, I don’t have your bloody beetle. I swear.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie, Steven didn’t have the beetle. The issue was that Marc did.

“Oh, no. The scarab doesn’t belong to me, it belongs to her.” Harrow gestured to a painted figure, the art chipping slightly. “Do you know Ammit?”

“Do I know Ammit? No, not personally,” Steven joked, growing increasingly uncomfortable when neither Harrow nor his men saw the humor. “Egyptian deity, right? World’s first bogerman.”

“She was only the ‘bogeyman’ for evildoers.” Harrow insisted.

“...right…” Steven mumbled, backing off a bit from the man in front of him.

“She grew weary of having to wait for sinners to commit their crime before punishing them. Would you wait to weed a garden until after the roses were dead?” Harrow took a threatening step forward, forcing Steven to take a step back.

He shook his head nervously, “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Ammit would wash the world with innocent blood and leave no one left,” You insisted. You didn’t know her well, you barely knew her at all, really. She was the second god to ever be condemned, right after your father.

“Until a person commits an evil act, they’re innocent,” You explained. “Besides, what about the guilty who have innocent children? Ammit would destroy innocent children and family lines without a second thought. Or do you believe those innocent children should be tortured simply for having an ‘evil’ parent?”

Harrow turned to you now, though he didn’t let his sight fully leave Steven.

“Of course not. Ammit only punishes those who deserve it.” His words were hardly true. “The justice of Ammit surveys the whole of our lives. Past, present, and future.”

He turned back to Steven, watching the man nervously nod in agreement, whispering a quiet “got it”.

“She knows what we’ve done,” Harrow insisted, his voice growing more firm. “What we will do.”

“Great, okay. Well, the books must’ve left that part out.” You admired Steven for joking, but with how frightened he looked, you weren’t sure he was joking.

“Consider this, had Ammit been free, she would’ve prevented Hitler and the destruction he wrought,” Harrow’s voice grew louder, gesturing out as he stepped forward. Steven stepped back, avoiding the man as best he could.

“Nero, the Armenian genocide, Pol Pot.”

“Not nice people.” At this point Steven was running on pure survival instinct, though you hoped he knew you wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Not until you were long dead.

“But she was betrayed.”

“Was she,” Steven questioned, looking around for a way out.

“By indolent fellow gods.” Harrow turned to you with aggression. You didn’t regret anything of course, Ammit was a danger. It was all a blur really, after Set was taken out of the Annead, Anubis took his place. He had done most of the heavy lifting. Ammit most likely blamed you too, though. “By her own avatar.”

Now that you remembered. Alexander the Great. Admittedly, he was pretty great.

“‘Avatar’, blue people. Love that film.” Steven clutched his bag closer, more frantic about leaving. You took a step closer, ready to jump in the second Harrow tried anything.

“By Avatar, what I mean—”

“You mean the anime?”

“Steven. Stop it.”

Steven froze, his voice fading before he spoke softly. “Are you going to kill me?”

“He won’t touch you,” You reassured, reminding Harrow of your presence.

“It’s maddening, isn’t it. The voice in your head. Relentless, forever unsatisfied.” Harrow likely meant Khonshu, but with Marc in his head, Steven was overwhelmed. “No matter how hard you try to please, it devours you until there’s nothing left but a hollow shell. And the more you ask for help, the more you begin to sound like the boy who cried wolf.”

Steven had calmed ever so slightly, though he still reminded you of a frightened cat preparing to run. “I can’t help you,” He shook his head rapidly, as if trying to convince Harrow.

“I am trying to help you.”

“Don’t pretend.” Your eyes narrowed, watching Harrow like a hawk stalking its prey.

“I saw you kill that woman in the Alps.” Steven said as firmly as he could manage, taking a small step toward you.

“I only told her what millions more will soon learn.”

“They don’t need to learn,” You argued back, your tone firm. If anything, you’d prefer Harrow to focus on you instead of Steven. But Marc was at the center of everything, and as far as Harrow knew, they were one and the same.

“Do you want to know the truth?” Harrow firmly grabbed Steven’s arm, bringing his forearms forward.

“Don’t you touch him Harrow,” You said, stepping closer.

Almost immediately, you were grabbed by two other people. They held onto your forearms, subtly, but firmly. It was enough for any outsiders to think you were just a weird group of friends. It was for the best really, the last thing you needed was civilians getting involved.

Harrow’s arms gripped Steven’s tightly, the dark scale tattoo shifting.

Steven was innocent, that much you knew. But by Ammit’s standards? Marc wasn’t. And you had no idea how she’d assess them.

“...there’s chaos in you.” Harrow’s words were quiet, you barely heard them from a few feet away.

“There’s what?” Steven questioned, expression turning serious.

You sighed, deciding you’d had enough. No, you didn’t feel like explaining magical powers to the police, but it was worth the risk.

Dark particles swirled around your hands, golden specks littered throughout them.

You sent out a pulse of energy, forcing your captor’s hands away from your wrists.

Harrowed turned around to face you, realizing you were a more prevalent threat. You nodded to Steven, who thankfully got your message and left.

You kept the energy covering your hands, a silent threat to everyone around you.

“You know I’m not one to anger gods,” Harrow began.

He was riding a thin line with you. Though a small percentage, you were still part human. But as the son of Set… well… people didn’t tend to mess with the son of evil incarnate.

The real question was how far Harrow was willing to go… how far he’d test the little protection Ammit offered.

None of the gods would defend her, and you doubted they’d defend him. But Harrow wasn’t known for being reasonable.

“You of all people should understand,” Harrow claimed. “Isn’t your title the ‘God of Balance’? With Set gone, they need a demigod to replace him.” Though, technically, he hadn’t said anything wrong, you felt defensive nonetheless. Bringing up your father wasn’t a good route for anyone to take.

“If you know me, then you know damn well I’m not a fan of Ammit.” You knew Ammit remembered you. She had to.

“Perhaps,” Harrow relented. “But I know you understand her.”

Harrow stepped back, waving off the rest of his followers. As much as you wanted to argue, you were happy to see him go.

The only thing that made you freeze up, was when you caught Steven’s eye in the doorway.

tags: @queenofthekill @bigdog310 @yumeillu @annoyingmarvelreader @flaminbread @howlingmoonaite @kr-mlk @zayisbored @sl33pyt1r3 @pshhbam @spicydonut25 @dilf-licker @what-the-heckin-heck @murdickdocked @some-times-funny @manlypinky @silvercrescentwolf @winxschester @vlktorheartssage @ravenqueen27

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cataztrophi · 6 months

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TAZ November Celebration 11: Wonder

One week left for @taznovembercelebration y'all! It's been so awesome seeing everyone's amazing work, I'm so impressed by everyone who's participating this year. The card I drew was "wonder," which of course immediately made me think of Wonderland. So this one's about the consequences of that arc, plus trying to gain a better understanding of the people you love. Spoilers for TAZ Balance, particularly The Suffering Game and the finale.

Kravitz sat down on the bed, watching Taako take his hair down at his vanity table. “It’s going to be different having Angus around,” he said.

“Mmhmm.” With a wave of his hand, Taako dispelled the glamour that he used with almost everyone, and his face changed subtly.

“It’ll be good, though,” Kravitz added. He saw Taako’s smile reflected in the vanity’s mirror.

“Yeah, he’s a good little dude.” He picked up a brush and began running it gently through his loose hair. “By the way, remind me to go to the store tomorrow, I need to pick up a few things.”

“Didn’t you just go yesterday?”

“That was before I watched Angus put away four bowls of stew at dinner tonight. He’s a growing boy, and he’s gonna need to keep his strength up for the training regimen I have planned for him.”

“I thought the poor kid was on vacation,” Kravitz said, smiling. He knew Taako wasn’t going to budge on this one.

“Absolutely not. I need to make sure none of Lucas’s little turds even come close to my boy next year.” He waved the brush around for emphasis.

There was a timid knock at the door, and Kravitz said “come in” before he could even think about it. He only realized his mistake as the door opened and Taako’s hands flew to his face.

“Um, excuse me, sirs,” Angus said quietly, “could I have another blanket? It’s a little cold in my-” he broke off when he caught sight of Taako. “Are you alright, sir?”

Taako sighed, the sort of bone-deep sigh that Kravitz only heard in the infrequent moments when he talked about the horrors of his–and their–past. Slowly, he lowered his hands.

“I guess you might as well know, Ango.”

Angus’s face betrayed only a moment of surprise before returning to his usual thoughtful expression. “So that’s why you use a glamour all the time!”

“You caught that, huh?” Taako said, and even now there was an unmistakable note of pride in his voice.

Angus puffed out his chest. “Yes, sir!” Then he continued in a more solemn tone. “If it’s okay with you, sir, I’d like to know what happened.”

Kravitz slid across the bed and took Taako’s hand, and Taako gave it a firm squeeze before he began.

“Well, Ango, you remember when we were with the B.O.B., and Merle, Magnus, and I had to go down to that Wonderland place?” His tone was carefully measured.

Angus nodded, his eyes wide.

“The liches that ran it made us make… sacrifices. They got their power from suffering, you see, so they wanted to make us as miserable as possible. And they did that by making us give up things that were important to us.”

“Like Mr. Highchurch’s eye!”

Taako nodded. “Exactly, Ango. One of the things I had to give up was, well, some of my looks.”

“Because they were important to you,” Angus said slowly.

“Yes, they were.” Kravitz wasn’t sure if Angus picked up on the slight unevenness to Taako’s voice now. He squeezed his hand gently.

Angus nodded. “Thank you for telling me, sir. I…” He hesitated. “I think you look very nice both ways.”

A gentle, tired smile crept over Taako’s face. “Thanks, Ango.”

Kravitz stood up, giving Taako’s hand one final squeeze before he dropped it. “Come on, Angus. I’ll get another blanket for you.”

“Hey, Ango?” Taako said just before they left the room.

“Yes, sir?”

“If you tell anyone I'll curse you to be four feet tall forever.”

“I'm… five foot six now, sir.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “And? I saved the planarverse, kid, you don't think I can shrink a little boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Angus said, more slowly, and he looked a little nervous now. Kravitz shook his head and led him out into the hallway, heading for the linen closet.

“Mr. Kravitz?” Angus asked after a moment.

“Yes?”

“What happened to those liches? The ones that ran Wonderland?”

Kravitz felt a sudden pain in his hand, and he looked down to find that he was gripping the closet’s door handle tight enough to dig into his skin. He took a deep breath and let it out, long and slow.

“We tracked them down,” he said finally. “Lup, Barry, and myself. We destroyed them, perhaps with more force than was strictly necessary. But they hurt Taako, and they used Barry’s relic to do it, so I believe Our Lady understood. Now what’s left of their souls is in the Stockade, where they can’t hurt anyone else.”

Angus nodded, wearing one of those expressions that looked far too old for him. “That’s good.”

“It is.” He opened the closet at last and pulled down a warm woolen blanket from the top shelf, then turned towards Angus’s room. Taako had called it “the guest room,” but Kravitz wasn’t sure why a general-purpose guest room would need an entire bookcase dedicated to books on early magical training. Taako ignored him when he pointed this out.

Kravitz helped Angus spread the blanket over his bed. He was very quiet the whole time, and as Kravitz turned to leave, he asked, “Mr. Kravitz?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think Taako’s upset? About me seeing him without his glamour?”

Kravitz looked down at him, into those big, bespectacled eyes that had seen so much more than a kid his age should have to. “Not with you, Angus. He trusts you, more than he trusts most people, honestly. He wouldn’t have talked to you about it otherwise.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “And I know he doesn't say it, but he cares about you a lot.”

Angus visibly relaxed, then smiled up at him. He looked over to the shelves stuffed with magic books. “He says it other ways, sir.”

Kravitz smiled. Taako was lucky he'd found a kid who was perceptive enough to see through him. “Good night, Angus.”

“Good night, sir!”

He closed the door behind him and headed back to his own room. He found Taako still seated at his vanity, staring down into his lap. He didn't look up when Kravitz entered.

Kravitz knelt beside Taako’s chair and took his hand, stroking the back of it gently with his thumb. He sat there patiently until Taako roused himself a little and looked down at him.

“Are you okay?” Kravitz asked, his voice sounding strange after the long silence. Taako didn't answer for a while, and when he opened his mouth Kravitz was sure he was going to deflect or flat-out deny there was anything wrong.

“I don't look like me anymore,” he said, in a voice strained from the effort of not breaking. “And I know, if most people saw me they'd still be able to say, ‘hey, that's Taako,’ but it's different when it's your own face. I know it's not the same. I mean, I don’t know, maybe I am just vain. But I liked being that guy, being Taako, the beautiful magical chef, and then suddenly the whole world decided to start carving pieces out of that.”

He was quiet for a moment, but Kravitz waited, still stroking his hand, letting Taako take his time.

“Did you know Lup and I were identical?”

Kravitz blinked, startled by the new direction of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I mean we both got into our own things as we got older, and then it was easier to tell us apart, but…. We always had the same face. I didn't… I didn't know that's what I was giving up. Maybe I would have tried harder if I did.” He laughed, dry and bitter, staring off into the distance behind Kravitz’s head. “Which is, oh boy, that's saying something, cause I really didn't want to. It was sort of… my last thing, you know? I wasn't a chef, I wasn't a celebrity, but hey, at least I was nice to look at!”

Kravitz saw the tension coiling in his shoulders, heard his voice fray at the edges as it was overwhelmed by anger and pain. “Then suddenly that’s gone, and when I finally get to remember who I was before I got half my fucking life stolen, I don’t even look like my fucking twin anymore.”

There were furious tears welling up in his eyes, and the silence seemed to stretch like hot tar between them before Kravitz found the words he needed to say. Hopefully they were the ones Taako needed to hear.

“It isn't fair,” he said gently, taking Taako’s hand in both of his. “And it isn’t small, or vain, or any of that. You’ve gone through so much, Taako. You’ve had so much taken from you. I know it’s hard to talk about, or, fuck, think about, but I want you to know I’m here. Whenever you need me. For whatever you need me. And…” He looked up at Taako’s face, holding his gaze. “There is no way your body could change that I wouldn’t still love you. Even if you looked like Merle.”

Taako laughed quietly, even as tears fell down onto Kravitz’s hands. “Wow, even then?”

Kravitz nodded solemnly. “Even then.” He pressed Taako’s hand to his lips. “And I know this might not help, but… no one could see you and Lup together and doubt you were twins, you’re the same in so many ways. You both get exactly the same look in your eyes when you’re about to do something stupid. And I have a lot of experience with that look, from both of you.” He grinned up at Taako and was happy to see him smiling back, albeit weakly.

Taako swiped a hand across his eyes, shaking away the tears. “Fuck,” he said. His voice still shook a little. He took a deep breath and started again. “Alright, no more sad Taako.”

Kravitz stood up, still holding Taako’s hand. “You can be sad Taako as long as you need to, babe.”

“Ugh, I’ve got too much shit going on to be sad Taako.” He swung Kravitz’s hand back and forth a little, then looked up into his face. “Thanks, Krav.”

“Any time.”

Taako yanked on Kravitz’s hand to pull him back down and drew him into a kiss, long and sweet. It left Kravitz’s face hot and his skin tingling, but he held back, not wanting to push. Even so, it was impossible to miss the flush in Taako’s cheeks, the increased pace of his breathing. He kissed Kravitz again, more insistently now, one arm curving over his shoulders. Kravitz straightened back up and this time Taako came with him, slipping his other arm around Kravitz’s waist.

Kravitz’s hand went to Taako’s cheek and he gently pulled away. Taako looked at him with questioning eyes.

Kravitz smiled reassuringly. “I just wanted to look at you again.” He dipped his head and kissed the curve of Taako’s neck. “My gorgeous….”

“Talented…” He moved down, slipping Taako’s robe from his shoulder to press a kiss there as well. Taako let out a quiet exhale of laughter.

“Clever…” He trailed kisses down one side of Taako’s chest, moving his robe aside as needed to bare warm, freckled skin. Above him he could hear Taako’s breathing turn uneven, then ragged, and then to soft whimpers as his mouth teased lower.

“Brave…” he undid the tie on Taako’s robe and spread kisses over the soft part of his stomach, savoring each gasp and moan he coaxed from Taako’s lips.

“Wait,” Taako panted, and Kravitz sat back on his heels to look at him.

“You alright?” He couldn’t keep a note of concern from entering his voice.

Taako laughed shakily. “Oh, I’m… fucking fantastic, my man. But we should probably lock the door.”

Kravitz nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “Right.” He hurried over to the door, locked it, and twisted the door knob to check, just in case. Then he turned back towards Taako and his breath caught in his throat. He was sitting on the edge of their bed, his robe discarded and his hair cascading over his shoulders in soft waves. There was a deep blush in his chest that made Kravitz want nothing more than to kiss every inch of his skin. He drank in the sight with a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, once he found his voice again.

Taako ducked his head in a moment of uncharacteristic self-consciousness. “Get over here.”

Kravitz was more than happy to oblige.

#to be clear im sure merle is a very handsome dwarf #taz november celebration #taz balance #taz balance spoilers #taako #taz kravitz #taakitz #troph writes #angus mcdonald

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booburry · 3 months

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Madison's Folly// Part 2 // a Gale Dekarios Fic // WC 4.2k // Part 1 / Part 3 / Series Complete

Series Summary: Madison did not have a life of substance nor a life that invoked jealousy of the passing mind, but the few good things she had, she held dear. So when the man she loved unequivocally was left heartbroken by a goddess and a magical curse within his body, Madi found herself searching for any means to rid him of his life threatening burden, no matter the personal cost. For all magic, no matter the greatness, comes with a cost to match.

AKA Madison does something foolish to prove her love for Gale without seeing the stark irony of the situation until it's far too late to step back.

A/N: this fic has an iron grip on my heart, finished this one and am already partially completed with part 3 - I hope to have that out within the next few days. ♥ thank you to all who have read so far! I hope you continue to enjoy it (I honestly have loved writing the party banter so much! haha).

Tags: Angsty, Emotions, Unrequited Love, Established Friendship/Connection, Dialogue Heavy/Driven, Gale is moody and desperately in love, so much so that the guy isn't entirely thinking straight

“I don’t suppose you are coming to sit with me just for the company?” Gale asked Elminster as the old man groaned into a seated position.

“You know me better than that, my boy.” Elminster softly advised, a small twist of his hand causing the flames to rise and roar before settling into a calmer state. The old man gave a soft reminiscent laugh. “There was a time when a simple trick like that would have you two stop fighting.”

“Yeah, well…I gather we have grown more complicated since we were nine.” Gale muttered as he watched the flames continue to dance while still stuck in his own personal misery.

“Mmm…yes.” Elminster agreed, mulling over something in his mind. “It is a wonder it worked back then, even, but I find one’s mind always does venture to thinking of the more pleasant times, hmn? Especially when one may be,” he drew out the ‘e’ long enough Gale’s ears rung, “mmm, looking at bleaker outcomes, hmn?”

“Yes, yes!” Gale groaned at the insistent way Elminster always followed a fact with ‘hmn?’ as if it was a question or a proposed view that was meant to be disputed. He also groaned at the fact he knew the topic couldn’t be avoided and despite Gale being aware he should be grateful to be able to speak to a person who understood the subject matter at hand as intimately as Gale did himself, it only made things worse.

All of this only continued to feel worse.

“She shouldn’t have been so stupid.” He had better words to choose from, better choices of what to say, yet these were the first to force themselves through his lips. He regretted them, as he regretted many things in his life—seemingly more every day—but he would be dishonest if he didn’t admit it was the thought constantly racing through his head.

“I fear it is the destiny of many mortals to lack the necessary foresight when it comes to matters of the heart—it is one of the many things that separates us from the gods.” Gale was growing impatient, not wanting to be lectured or chastised by yet another for his unconventional relationship with his goddess, nor on how he was stupidly blind to Madison’s affection until he was cursed with this orb and far too unstable, both body and mind, to be with her.

Nobody, except for Tara perhaps, understood the pain it brought him to hear Madi’s countless confessions of love, of the promises to care for him, to accept him as he was, to not wish for Gale of Waterdeep or some child prodigy of magic, nor Mystra’s Chosen, but just Gale Dekarios…the mortal man. Never had he thought anyone capable of seeking him without the whimsy and power he brought, for the resources he had and what he had to offer.

But even when he managed to feel worthy of such compassion and embrace, he was reminded by the sinister voice in his head that if he wasn’t good enough for a goddess, then how could he be good enough for anyone else?

“You don’t understand.” Gale finally grumbled, feeling more like his boy-self than he had in ages as he dragged one of his legs so his knee was raised, his hand resting on top to act as a cushion for his chin. All he needed was a stick to draw runes in the sand with and this would be reminiscent of every night he camped under the stars with Elminster and Madi in his childhood.

He only needed, desperately, one piece to make the image complete.

Someone he expected to never see again.

“You don’t get to my age without understanding a little,” Elminster grumbled, offended at Gale’s claim before humming and straining his voice in contemplation before continuing with his point. “It is not I who you need to discuss these things with Gale, and we both know this.”

“I can hardly talk to someone who silenced my very words.” Gale retorted, still stuck in his misery and defeat. Silence lingered between the men, the light cracking of wood mixed with the rustling of leaves as Elminster hummed over Gale’s response and attitude. None of this did anything to settle Gale’s temperament.

“I know she will not appreciate me sharing, but I hardly see how I cannot,” Elminster stated, harshly clearing his throat, and handing Gale a small piece of parchment before continuing. “Here is a spell, crafted by Addy and I for the time she was searching for you in the Under Dark and out of reach of my sending spell—”

“She went to the Under Dark?” Gale asked, his curiosity overpowering his anger and discontent as he unfolded the parchment to read an incantation meant for one to visit another in their dreams.

“She thought you were going to…well—”

“Blow myself up?” Gale concluded, feeling guilty that it was the very thing he had intended to do if he wasn’t able to keep the orb stabilized. Further guilt was added with the realization of how well Madi really knew him, recognizing the connection he had brutishly squandered.

“Well…yes, but she had travelled there prior to you leaving your tower as well, Gale. It’s where she made some very short-sighted promises that she cannot walk away from. It is best,” Elminster quickly continued, seeing Gale open his lips to ask a question he could not answer, “that you ask her what was done, but I would warn you with being so quick to judgment and anger, my boy, for if you look closely enough you will see she has only done what you did for another.”

Elminster dipped his head to look at Gale directly, knowingly, with a peaked brow to emphasize the obvious, and truthful, point he was making.

“The question is then: Will you also cast her aside, as was done to you, for this folly of hers?”

~X~

It had been three days and the bloody spell hadn’t worked. Three days!

Every night Gale would cast it and sit in a meditative state, or mindlessly pace as his anxiety rose, as he waited to enter Madison’s dream. He knew he cast the spell correctly, spoke the words the right way, there was no doubt about that—so why wasn’t it working?!

It didn’t help his growing frustrations that he hadn’t slept for three days either, his companion's constant nagging for him to rest starting to piss him off to no end.

“We could really use a fireball right about now!” Astarion called out while they faced off against some spider monstrosity of a man. Gale just glowered at him, annoyed that Astarion chose right now to pester him about not regaining his more potent spells from resting, ensuring to cast Fire Bolt to prove a point. Astarion just groaned before cloaking himself in shadow and reappearing elsewhere to shoot a goblin dead.

The height of Gale’s frustration came from watching all of his companions huddled by Shadowheart’s tent, whispering together while Karlach flashed worried and determined glances toward Gale—something was coming his way. He peered at the parchment resting on the ground in front of him, feeling miserable in this sudden sea of loneliness he found himself in. Not only had he been chasing to speak with Madi to no avail, but he had also felt the absence of Mystra since the day he attempted to reach out to Madi and he didn’t entirely understand why.

Yes, she was there for every spell cast. Still, it was minimal, never a lingering touch or caress as she would have before…and it pained him, angered him even, that she would be so spiteful towards him so shortly after having ordered him to blow himself up to gain her forgiveness.

He cast the spell once more, paying attention for Mystra’s presence yet it was so faint and fleeting that he almost missed it.

“Curse you…” Gale muttered through gritted teeth and clenched fists—was she really taunting him with his unworthiness right this moment? Was she the thing stopping this spell from working? Or was he just that inept without her favour?

“Look, Gale...” Tav broke Gale’s fixation on his misery to look up and realize all of his companions had walked up to him, Tav leading the pack holding a wooden club. “It’s for the best, okay?” Tav moved before Gale’s sleep-deprived mind could catch up, a swift swing to the head and he was out cold—finally asleep.

~X~

“About time!” Madi called out to Gale as they stood in the open glade of her dream state. “It’s like you don’t sleep or something.”

“What?” Gale muttered as he slowly became present, absently rubbing his head expecting it to be sore or bruised, even bleeding, yet it was nothing but his curled hair. Only a short moment until his eyes went wide as they fell to Madi and he lurched up to his feet. “It worked?!” He exclaimed, giddy as a schoolboy.

Madi laughed, watching him with amusement and disbelief as she realized he never went to sleep after casting the spell each night, which is why she felt his calling to meet but he never arrived—but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him of his mistake, not wishing to bruise his fragile ego or wanting to start the conversation on the wrong foot.

“I guess Elminster gave you the spell?” Madi softly inquired, staying still where she stood while watching Gale take in his surroundings.

“I feel like I have been here before.” He muttered, no longer paying attention to anything other than his racing mind as he tried to recall what was familiar about the fabricated space they stood. In truth he had been here before, it was a glade within a forest they frequented with Elminster when going on ‘field studies’. It had been the place where Madi had felt most at peace, and where she had grown to fall in love with Gale.

"It's a dream, Gale—none of this has a purpose.” She lied, a pain of guilt striking her chest as she watched Gale quickly accept her words as fact.

“It doesn’t matter.” He told her with a smile. “I’m just happy to be able to speak with you.” Madi knew her anxiousness at the prospect of what he wanted to speak of was visible in her reaction to his words, Gale immediately hesitating his step towards her. “That is…if you wish to speak.” He corrected with a small laugh. “For all I know, you only came here to tell me off. Rightfully so…” he muttered at the end, casting his gaze down to the luscious green grass beneath his feet.

“It would feel unfair to turn you away after such dedication to reach me.” Madi kindly offered, giving way to the softer part of her heart and mind, pushing away the fear that Gale would abandon her. He just scoffed at her words.

“Three days hardly compares.” He clarified, his expression immediately wracked with guilt and before Madi could tell him to stop he launched into everything he had been stirring over. “I am so sorry Madi, I never should have done anything that I did when you—” Gale stopped speaking as if silenced by a spell as he reached to stand in front of her, his arms outstretched to hover beside her arms, his eyes wide with grief and regret, his mouth open in shock.

“I was selfish for longer than I should have been, more foolish than I ever thought myself capable, to not see you.” He confessed, one of his hovered hands raising to cup Madi’s tear-stained cheek. “I hardly feel worthy of it, your feelings for me, past or present—if still standing, that is—but I want to be, and whatever mess you got yourself into—”

Madi huffed a laugh, breaking her silence at how understated the word ‘mess’ described her situation. Something Gale seemed to catch onto as he pulled at her face until she looked directly at his large, desperate, eyes.

“I love you Madi, for longer than I ever realized, and I refuse to lose you now. We will figure it out—I promise.” This would have been the perfect moment to kiss him, to laugh and smile in joy, if it weren’t for the fact that Madi burst into tears and crumpled against Gale’s chest. He held her tightly as she wailed against him, Gale feeling his robes becoming damp, feeling her muscles tremble and shake when her voice failed her, finding himself unable to do anything else than continuously whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

It was hard to tell how long they stood there, Gale holding Madi with the intensity only a lover could hold one with, but they remained like that until her tears stopped and her eyes dried.

“I, uh…I think I am waking up.” She managed to mutter, still tightly gripping onto Gale’s robes. “I don’t want to go.” She meekly added, her fingers curling into tighter fists.

“May I visit you tomorrow night?” Gale softly asked, Madi simply nodding against his chest.

“Just make sure to fall asleep this time, silly.” She teased him through a sniffle, finally pulling away to look at him through puffed eyes. He smiled at her, soft and sweet, as he brushed a hand against her cheek before cradling it.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He told her, hesitating for a moment before slowly leaning towards her but before their lips could connect, his eyes opened to look at the ceiling of his tent, letting out a long sigh yet finding himself feeling less burdened than before he was knocked unconscious by his friends.

A smile slowly spread across Gale’s lips as he thought of what tomorrow night could bring him.

~X~

“Do you understand the meaning of the word ‘irony’, Gale?” Astarion dryly asked a question everyone knew the answer to. “Because you’re doing it right now!” He wined, Gale’s head twisting in confusion.

“I’m doing irony? My, Astarion, for being as old as you are I would expect you to hold a basic understanding of the common tongue.” Gale chuckled, feeling himself in a much brighter mood than the past days he went sleepless, however, his companions weren’t quick to forget his refusal to sleep now that he was constantly asking them when they would take a break for the day.

“Let’s just put him to sleep already!” Astarion groaned to Tav, whose fingers already danced with pink light. “He’s becoming insufferable again and I hate it.” He continued but Gale only smiled and opened his arms wide.

“So long as you promise not to leave me laying out here in these cursed lands, I will gladly accept the assistance,” Gale advised, gleeful at the idea of being back with Madi. Even if she would not be asleep for some time, he would at least be waiting for her in a place where time would move quicker and he would be without this bickering.

“We’ll at least drag you out of the curse before dumping your body somewhere.” Tav encouraged with a toothy smile, Astarion belly laughing behind them.

“Reassuring, thank you.” Gale groaned, crossing his arms as he looked at the two chaotic lovers in front of him before turning to Karlach and Wyll who gave Gale a reassuring nod.

“Now that I won’t burn you to a crisp, I gotcha!” Karlach enthusiastically gave Gale a thumbs up to seal her promise to him.

“Let’s just…finish the task at hand then,” Gale concluded as he felt uneasy about trusting Karlach’s ability to embrace and hold another person without injuring them—not that she wasn’t trustworthy but rather the machine that was slowly killing her in her chest was untrustworthy, and Gale knew better than most to trust any unstable thing lodged in one's chest.

Astarion was the only one to dramatically groan at the change of action and Gale knew to just let him have his moment. Instead, he focused on the other matter that called his attention the moment he joked about not being left in it—the Shadow Curse.

The moment he stepped foot in these lands, his nose burnt from the smell of the magic that lingered and shaped their surroundings. At first, it felt threatening, and hungry, and how everyone else except Shadowheart described it: like invisible tendrils reaching out to grasp at you and drag you away. And it had continued to feel as such except for today—today was different.

He did not feel threatened or sense its hunger, nor did it try to grasp at him, yet he was still uncertain of what it was doing if it was doing anything at all. It was that thought that had Gale truly wonder if he was feeling the absence of the curse instead of an embrace or protection from it.

No matter what, it was strange, and Gale had no idea why it was happening. He only hoped it wasn’t because he fell from Mystra’s Grace that Shar’s magic now embraced him.

Shadow Weave. Gale thought to himself, his mind racing so fast he stopped in his tracks, his eyes fixated on an obsolete pebble on the path they walked as he leapt down a rabbit hole of thoughts that started with him recalling Madi’s confession, reliving the guilt of his reaction, jumping to last night and the happiness he felt, them reconnecting, and now the change in how the curse, powered by the same magic Madi called upon, reacted to him.

But…surely Madi did not have such powers or sway—this curse was old and powerful beyond even Gale’s comprehension or ability to cast; even at his prime. And for all of Madi’s magical prowess, she never bested Gale’s talents, so it was a preposterous notion…surely.

“Let’s keep it moving, soldier.” Karlach’s voice came from behind Gale who was then suddenly bear-hugged by large tiefling arms and lifted right off the ground. “We’re almost back at the inn, then you can have your little nap.” She told him, speaking to him like one would a baby.

“I am not a child!” Gale protested, pointlessly struggling against Karlach, who had more than double his strength.

“Says the man being carried by a tiefling that calls herself ‘Mama K’, ha!” Astarion chimed from the front, flashing a toothy and sarcastic grin at Gale, who just glowered as he fell limp within Karlach’s grip, surrendering himself to the moment. Instead, he took the moment to search within himself for a place of inner peace until they arrived back at the Last Light Inn.

“You put me down before the bridge,” Gale grumbled to Karlach.

“You got it, boss!”

~X~

Even though it was barely past supper, Gale could find no reason he wished to remain awake and promptly snuck away to where the party was to sleep, quickly taking a potion to ensure he found slumber quickly while placing a note along with a potion to wake him, should there be trouble, on the nightstand next to him.

Slowly Gale settled into bed with a deep sigh, feeling a mixture of excitement and longing for what was to come once his eyes fell shut. Something that, thankfully, arrived quickly.

“Eager to return, I see.” Madi greeted him with a playful tease, Gale waking to the sound with a weightless smile, wondering if he had ever heard anything sweeter.

“Truthfully, I wished to sleep the moment I woke but I also didn’t want to look completely desperate.” Gale laughed as he turned to look at Madi who was already a foot away from him, her inviting lips parted into a perfect smile, her eyes dancing with anticipation and desire.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing a bit of desperation from you,” Madi whispered to him as she found her way between his arms, her own sliding around Gale to hold him tightly.

“Oh, well…in that caseI have plenty, I assure you,” Gale announced all too enthusiastically, hesitating as he questioned if he should correct himself before he felt Madi lightly shake with a chuckle, his body immediately relaxing into equally embracing her. Once again the two of them stood in silence, holding the other and even though they may not physically be in the other's presence, it still felt real.

Gale was quickly reminded of what he had attempted to do the night before they were disconnected, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat forming at the idea of gathering the nerves to attempt it again, questioning if he should wait, or ask first, or if Madi even wanted such a thing. Surely she did by the way she held him and watched him with her beautiful and inviting expression.

Madi laughed, breaking Gale’s train of thought.

“How long are you going to think about kissing me before you actually do?” She teased him and Gale responded immediately by throwing all hesitations aside and diving into every desire he held for her. Tight was the grip his arms pinched her body with, a hand snatched to the back of her head, pressing her lips to his in such a heavenly moment Gale forgot it was in a dream.

Madi, with her own dire desires, did not need Gale’s encouragement or guidance as her tongue slipped between his lips, a soft moan escaping along with the motion that curled Gale’s insides into knots that would take a lifetime to untangle. It felt intoxicating to hold her, to feel her lips against his, more than any spell he had ever cast, more than any time in the Astral Plane—which was something far greater to contemplate than he could allow at this moment.

Something he very well intended to do, mind you…just not right now. Not while he held every object of his desires, not while he kissed her and soaked into her vast well of love.

Gale had never felt more lonesome than when her lips parted his.

“Did you mean it?” She asked him, her warm breath against his face as she asked him the vague question yet he immediately knew the subject of which she spoke of.

“I have been foolish in many ways, but never so foolish as to throw the l-word around without intention,” Gale informed her but he saw the flicker of doubt flash across her eyes. “I promise.” He pleaded with her, his visible and audible desperation making them both smile.

“I believe you now.” Madi half-heartedly teased but she wasn’t able to truly hide the lingering worry she felt.

“I want you to know that you could tell me anything. I promise not to react like the pompous idiot I was the last last time we spoke.” Madi chuckled, a brightness returning to her smile for a short moment before it faltered.

“Did…did Elminster tell you how this all came about?” Gale could sense her hesitation before she even pulled away from him, sitting down on the pillowy grass that covered the open glade. Gale took a deep breath before sitting next to her.

“No,” he paused, “I think he felt guilty enough giving me this incantation…besides, he said it was best I speak to you about it all.” Madi dipped her head at Gale’s words, her face twisting into an unreadable amusement.

“I betrayed him in worse ways, he could have told you the entire truth and I wouldn’t have held it against him.” He confessed after a breathy laugh.

“Will you tell me the whole truth?” Gale was quick to ask, immediately wanting to know what she was dealing with, wanting to begin devising a way to get her out of whatever and whoever she had promised, while also aware it was unfair of him to ask of such a confession. He was mostly aware of this fact when Madi hesitated before responding.

“Not yet.” She finally confessed. “I’m sorry,” she softly whispered, sorrow painted across her features, “I need you to wait a bit longer, but I am here in these lands Gale, and until we can be together in the flesh, it is not safe for me to speak of it.”

Gale leaned towards her the moment her face turned to look at him and he could see the tears welling in her eyes, immediately becoming weak and unable to resist the overwhelming desire to comfort her. Once again he embraced her, this time on his knees hunched over her as if to shield her from a world of pain.

Only when she seemed to settle did he pull away.

“I will not abandon you,” Gale promised her in all the seriousness he could muster. “I will find you and we will settle this,” he continued as he looked desperately at Madi, her eyes welling with tears once again as she listened to his words, “I will protect you and I will save you, I swear it!”

Gale watched as Madi smiled at his words, the tears falling fiercer than before, but the thing he noticed most was how she didn’t react, didn’t respond, to his promises. She nodded and smiled to appease Gale, but he could tell, to his deep horror and grief, that she didn’t believe a lick of it possible.

Tag list: @fangbangerghoul, @bearlytolerant, @endersnailz ♥ Hope you all enjoy!

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x oc #gale bg3 #gale romance #baldurs gate 3 #gale fanfic #gale dekarios fanfic #astarion ancunin #karlach cliffgate #elminster #my homies hate mystra #booburry writes

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sticktopia · 5 months

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Welcome to the Garden (Sanctuary AU)

The Garden. A pocket dimension that sits on the line between life and death. This little world is designed to house and heal broken souls. Those who have died under tragic circumstances, or have many regrets are called to this realm. Once they let go of their trauma and regrets, the soul can pass on to its next life. That is the role of The Garden.

Five (Chapter 3)

“Help me defeat him!!”

“We got him cornered! He can't escape now!”

“N-No! Please don't delete us!!!”

“Run!!!”

“Guys wait!!!”

The grey stick gasped as they woke up, immediately jolting into an upright position. They panted, looking around to see the forest they fell asleep in. The grey hollow head calmed their racing heart,shaking away the remaints of the nightmare they just had.

“Stupid nightmares.” The stick cursed. They sat there contemplating. These visions from their past pained them. Remembering their “friends”, the way they fought and the way they died. It was like agony to the poor soul. They gladly would have gone back to the days where they just simply existed as a ghost. Oblivious and ignorant about their past. But those days will never return. Their own face reminded them of their death. For two tar black streaks came from their eyes, never to be removed. It saddened the hollow head.

“Can't I just cease to exist?” They muttered to themself. The stick buried their face into their knees, trying to keep from crying more inky tears. They suddenly heard footsteps coming towards them. Instinctively, the hollowhead jumped to their feet and hid behind a tree. They took a shaky breath as the foot steps drew closer. Fear and anxiety gripped their heart, making his chest feel tight.

“Excuse me.” The hollowhead yelped and jumped back in fear. The stick fell to the floor, scooting away from the owner of the voice. But as they looked into the face of the voice, they felt calm. A beautiful nude pink stick stood before them.

“I appologize. I didn't mean to starttle you.” She said, holding a hand out to the fallen hollow head. They carefully took the stick’s hand, being hoisted to their feet.

“You arent hurt are you?” She asked, her voice was soft and smooth, it was comforting to the confused hollow head.

“N-No. I’m fine… Thank you for asking.” They said as they pulled their hand away. The stick chuckled as she pulled her hadn in as well.

“That’s good to hear. On, my name is Momo. It’s nice to meet you.” Momo said with a soft smile. The grey hollow head watched the pink stick. She didn't seem to want to harm her. Maybe she was nice? But that was too hard to tell with her calming demenor and motherly aura.

“Um, what’s your name?”Momo suddenly asked, getting the stick’s attention once again. They jumped a bit, taken aback by her question. Their name, it was a horrible name. They never wanted to say it ever again.

“I… I don't have one…” They lied. Momo tilted her head.

“No name? I've never heard of a stick that doesnt have a name.” Momo said. The hollow head looked away from her. They felt bad for lying to her. But letting someone know your name sounds like you can be easily manipulated isn't exactly the best. Another memory then popped into their head.

“Welcome to the team Five! Grab the ninja star and use it on the arrow thing there!”

“Yes sir!!!”

“Actually,” The grey hollow head looked back up at Momo. “I think I do have a name.”

“That’s great! Do you remember your name then?”

“Yes.. I do.”

“What would you like me to call you then?”

“You… Can call me Five…”

**********

“Welcome to the garden Five.” Five gasped as they saw the beautifully lush courtyard. They’ve never seen anything like it before. The vibrant colors were welcoming to the lost stick. They were so caught up in the scenery, they didn't notice that Momo was talking to another pastel yellow stick.

“Five.” Five’s attention was quickly directed to the end of the pathway, where they could see Momo waving them over. Five quickly made their way to the Momo and the new stick.

“Dandi, this is Five. They already remembers their death, but they seem to be struggling with it.” Momo said as Five approached them. The pastel stick bowed and introduced herself.

“Greeting lost soul. My name is Dandi, creator of the garden. I hope you will enjoy your stay here.” Dandi said formally.

“Um, thank you.” Five said awkwardly. Dandi then stood straight and smiled.

“We’re about to have lunch. Won't you please join us?” Dandi asked. Five stared at her blankly.

“Lunch…?” They asked. Momo and Dandi glanced at each other before turing their attention back to the hollow head before them.

“Have you never eaten before?” Momo then asked. Five shrugged.

“I-I don't know? I mean, I wasn't alive long enough to really… know anything.” Five stuttered. Dandi put her hand over her mouth. Her normally calm demenor faltering slightly.

“You're a created stick…” She gasped.

“I guess so, whatever that means.” Five said as they rubbed their arm.

“Oh my darling.” Dandi said as she held Five’s free hand.

“I am so sorry for what happened to you. Please, come. Allow us to make the garden your home.” Dandi said as she and Momo led Five up to the house.

**********

As Five stepped into the house, they were amazed by the bustling life within. There were many sticks like the ones they’ve seen in the city. But they all seemed different from those city sticks as well. Five then noticed that the white noise of children laughing and sticks talking had suddenly disappeared. As Five looked around, they realized that all attention was immediately on them. That scared them. Five simply wished to hide away from the sight of the crowd. Dandi then led Five to the front of the living room.

“Ladies, gentleman, and those who have no affiliation with gender, I’d like for all of you to welcome our latest arrival.” Dandi said as she stood slightly in front of Five. As she turned to face him, she could see that they were trembling. She took a step back and placed a hand on their shoulder. Fave’s head snapped in her direction. Dandi could see that he was terrified.

“Do you want to try introducing yourself?” She softly whispered to the terrified hollow head. Five shook thier head. They didn't want to be seen by so many. It made them feel vulnerable. Dandi nodded and turned to Momo. Momo nodded and took Five to the empty Family room. As Mmo led Five away, they could hear as Dandi spoke to the rest of the sticks.

“Appologies friends. Our newest recruit is not ready to speak just yet. So please be gentle with them if you do happen to run into them on their own.” Five was embarrassed. They froze up in front of all those people. They surely will hate them now.

“Five, please, calm down.” Momo said as she sat them down. Five looked up at her, terror and embarrassment lingered in his eyes.

“I-I made a fool of myself! I shouldnt be here! I need to get outta here!” Five was about to stand but Momo caught them by the shoulders.

“Hey, hey.” She softly said, making Five sit once more. Momo then kneeled and took Five’s hand.

“Look, look. Breathe with me Five. In and out.” Momo said. As she breathed in and ut, Five copied her. Once Five was calm, Momo spoke again.

“It’s ok Five. A lot of sticks weren't ready to speak at first either.” Momo said as she Looked up at them with a comforting smile.

“There’s nothing to be afraid or embarrassed of. Everyone here has some sort of past that they are ashamed of. So you're not alone, Love.” Momo explained as she stood and released Five’s hand.

“Are you feeling better now?” Momo asked. Five took a shaky breath.

“Y-Yeah. I think I'm ok now…” Five shakily replied. Momo chuckled and placed a hand on Five’s shoulder.

“You're gonna be just fine here.”

“Momo! Momo! Help, they're ambushing me!” A purple stick suddenly yelped from the other room. Momo giggled and stood straight, removing her hand from Five’s shoulder.

“I’ll be right back.” Momo said as she left the room. Leaving Five alone with his thoughts.

Chapter 2-(Chapter 3)-Chapter4

#sanctuary au #alan becker #ava #avm #ava victim #fanfic #Sticktopia’s Stories

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aikaterini-drag · 6 months

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Chapter 8 Caress

Kofi 🧡 AO3 🩷 ASK ME 🩵

Warnings (whole series): Violence, Non-Con Abduction, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual Tension, First Time, Emotional Sex, Protective Bucky, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soft Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Barnes Gets all the Love he deserves.

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Bucky grunted in his sleep, ragged breaths moving in and out of his lips at gasping intervals. Flashbacks clawed at his mind, tormenting him with chilling scenes of his past. He saw the things the Winter Soldier had done, a haunting playback of his own actions. He could hear the people he had killed, their screams, and he could see their poor eyes.

Every detail etched into his memory.

Blood.

Screams.

Innocence shattered.

Victims left in the wake of merciless brutality.

And then, amidst the turmoil, even Grace's face emerged.

In the delirium of his dreams, the Soldier was unable to stop the bloodthirst and the cursed programming that surged within him. His mechanical fingers formed a brutal vise around her delicate neck, a relentless pressure that suffocated her. She appeared so fragile in his grasp, trembling and tears streaming down her face, a haunting reflection of helplessness.

Stifled cries emerged from his lips, his mouth quivering with each gasp. He jolted awake, the shock so severe that it sent him lurching upright, his body falling off the couch where he had been sleeping. He landed on the floor with a thud, his chest heaving as if it were an overinflated balloon suddenly punctured by a needle. He was sweating with fear, his hands cold and clammy.

With trembling hands, he rubbed away the remnants of tears that clung to his eyes, his gaze darting toward the nearby clock. Nearly 6 a.m. ticked the hands, a merciless reminder that his mind refused to grant him even an hour of peaceful sleep. Sighing, he dragged his feet into a sitting position and right at that moment, a soft gentle voice caught his attention.

"James?"

Then he saw her. His stare wasn't supposed to be so focused on her, but there was a magnetic pull, an undeniable sense of safety that drew him to her. She was so alluring, bathed in the pale light of dawn, her loose waves cascading around her face. She was holding a glass of water in her palm and she was a sight for sore eyes.

"Are you alright?" She stepped closer, drawing nearer with a gentleness, closer still, until she was within arm's reach. His cries had pierced the silence and she couldn't help but worry.

"I woke you up... I'm sorry," he said softly and bent his head so she couldn't see his pathetic state.

"No, you didn't. I couldn't sleep." She could tell that he was still hazy and all she wanted to do was reach out and hug him. "Breathe. It's over."

A knot of gratitude formed in his chest. "I..."

"Here, have some water," she said, offering him the glass of water.

"Thank you," he said after he downed its contents in a few gulps. He rubbed his temples as if trying to dispel the previous horrid images from his mind.

"I'll stay with you," she said, her voice a whisper that held unwavering support. "Until you find your way back to sleep."

"I'm not going back to sleep," he said. "But you should go back. Don't worry. I'm fine."

"That's okay. I'll keep you company."

He tried to summon a reassuring smile, despite the fatigue that clung to him. "You should go back. I'll be fine."

"You're still pale."

"Why do you care about me?" he replied, his sudden question catching her unprepared.

Her response was tender, honest. "I don't know. It just feels right."

"You're already aware of this, Grace, but I think it's important to remind you. I've done terrible things. Horrible things. I am a horrible person. And that is an understatement."

"You're not talking about yourself right now. You're talking about the Winter Soldier. And that's not who you are."

His doubt lingered, self-damnation threatening to engulf him. "No. I am one of the worst men you'll encounter. I've manipulated and killed people in cold blood."

"You were being controlled. You were a victim and everything was committed against your will."

"My hands..." He clenched his fists and said, "My hands did all those things."

She gave him a compassionate smile. "But those hands also helped me and comforted me. They saved my life."

He stood speechless at that and she continued.

"You're constantly at war with yourself when you clearly want to change."

"Change into what?"

"Into yourself. You're Sergeant Barnes, and that's the person you should embrace and accept." She sent him a tender look and that made his heart clench.

"I don't deserve this."

"Alright then, no more talking about stuff that will make you feel worse. We need to loosen up."

A wry chuckle escaped him. "What exactly can we do at 6 am? Dance?"

Her eyes sparkled. "That's a fantastic idea! Dancing can banish those haunting dreams from our minds."

He laughed. "You can't be serious."

"I'm very serious."

"I haven't danced since... well, since 1943!"

"Then we should remedy that immediately," she said, rising gracefully from her seat. "Come on, let's dance those worries away."

He blinked, not moving at all. "What— no! I don't even remember— and there's no music!"

"Stop complaining," she countered and motioned him to join her. "I can sing. I'll pick a song that you'll definitely like. Stop being so grumpy and let's dance, Sergeant Barnes."

Hearing her call him by his rank, melted his heart. Oh... she had done it. Unable to deny her request, he stood and closed the distance between them. Since he was too shy to touch her, she reached for his metal arm and looped it around her waist. The other interlocked with hers and rested over his chest. With a trembling breath, he drew her close, their bodies pressing together.

"Close your eyes and erase every single thought. Right now, you're Sergeant Barnes enjoying a dance. Just that," she whispered, her warm brown eyes taken in by his intense blue ones.

"I'm Sergeant Barnes."

She leaned her head against his chest. "Now, let the music take over."

With a soft hum, she began to sing.

Kiss me once Then, kiss me twice Then, kiss me once again It's been a long, long time Haven't felt like this, my dear Since can't remember when It's been a long, long time You'll never know How many dreams I dream about you Or just how empty they all seem without you So, kiss me once Then, kiss me twice Kiss me once again It's been a long, long time...

"This song..." he muttered, affected beyond imagination. The tune carried him back to a bygone era, a time when he was a soldier heading into the fray. Her voice, tender and melodious, seemed to caress his tormented soul, stitching together his raw edges and soothing his aching wounds.

"I know a few vintage songs," she shared as they swayed in each other's arms.

He chuckled. "Vintage songs for a vintage man."

"I had this notion that Sergeant Barnes would be quite the charmer with the ladies. You're ruining my fantasies."

A small smile came over his face. "I'm terribly sorry. As it appears, I've misplaced my charm."

He grinned remained as he made a graceful turn, their bodies moving in perfect sync. He was lulled by their dance, their connection. He wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss her senseless or keep dancing with her forever.

"Dancing is nice indeed," he whispered, his voice deep and husky.

"See? You're already feeling better," she said, her head tilting to meet his gaze. "I'm feeling rather relaxed myself."

His eyes crinkled at the sight of her unstoppable smile. His heart felt warm all of a sudden, a gentle fluttering sensation coiling in the pit of his stomach. No other woman had dragged these sorts of emotions from him. No one. Her soft features seemed to beckon him, a silent invitation he felt compelled to answer.

For the first time in his life, he listened to his premonition and... kissed her.

Grace yielded to the kiss and arched against him, the sensation of his lips against hers sending tingles racing down her spine. Her eyes fluttered shut, while his remained half-open. His lips were velvety soft, warm and tantalizingly moist. With every gentle press of his mouth against hers, her heart surged, blood coursing through her veins at an electrifying pace.

"James?" she breathed in his mouth and playfully brushed her nose against his.

"What did I just do?" Shocked at what he had done, he reeled back. His eyes raked over her and it was a dire mistake; she was flushed, her lips still glistening from their shared kiss.

She smiled. "You gave me a kiss. A rather hurried one though..."

"Hurried?"

"Hmm.... but I understand. You haven't had much practice."

"I-I... I'm sorry..." he said and heard his own voice shake. What the hell?! This had never happened in the past. He never stuttered and he certainly did not feel that hot and bothered.

"Don't be. I liked it. A lot. Although, it did end rather abruptly..."

"In that case..." He cleared his throat, his eyes piercing through her. "I-I would be more than willing to give it another try."

"Please do so."

And with her encouragement, he leaned in once more, a soft sigh escaping him as he reclaimed her lips. His arms wrapped securely around her waist, and she reciprocated by tangling her fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss and savoring the sensations. They shared the same breaths, their bodies molding incredibly close.

Cupping his unshaven cheeks, she tilted her head to one side so she could fully savor the sultry kiss. Their moans echoed in the room that encased them, eventually leading them to collapse onto the nearby sofa. Her body pressed him into the cushions as he settled atop him, her legs straddling his thighs. Never straying from his mouth, she tightened her arms around his neck and squealed in delight when she felt the hardness of his arousal, firm and throbbing, vibrating against her core.

Their touches burned and he groaned, unable to take the need throbbing in his pants. They broke apart, their chests rising and falling with rapid breaths. His hand, warm against her skin, tenderly cupped her face, his thumb grazing her cheek. His eyes traced her kiss-swollen mouth, the evidence of their shared intimacy, and he couldn't help but admire the blush that adorned her cheeks.

"How's that for a kiss?" he drawled, a thumb rubbing circles into her cheeks.

"I will never underestimate you again, Sergeant Barnes," she said, giving him a lopsided smile.

They remained locked in a tight embrace, their bodies molded together as if they were always meant to fit perfectly. As the minutes stretched on, their eyes began to feel heavy, soothing fatigue tugging at their senses. They slept in the warmth of each other, no nightmares daring to intrude upon their precious moment.

▪️▪️▪️

Bucky's eyes fluttered open, and met with the delightful sensation of a soft, warm body pressing him down. Their positions had shifted during their slumber, and now he lay stretched out on the couch, while she rested comfortably on top of him. Her head found solace in the crook of his shoulder, and her right hand rested over his heart. She was breathing rhythmically, her half-open lips almost touching his neck.

A jolt of both surprise and arousal coursed through him, sensations he had programmed to forget resurfacing. The kiss they had shared played vividly in his mind, so tantalizing and exhilarating. Somehow, miraculously, he had slept soundly beside her, without interruptions and horrible dreams. And as it appeared she was equally cosy, no bad memories hunting her.

He willed himself to remain still, to enjoy the intimate connection between them. But the guy hiding beneath his pants chose to say hi, rising to full mast. He had never sported such a raging erection, never before so affected. His heart beat erratically as his thoughts ran toward forbidden territory. A mini freak-out consumed him and no matter how much he tried to control it, it became worse.

Decades of suppression and isolation had left him unfamiliar with the demands of the female body. He hadn't touched himself or craved a woman for so long, and with her tempting him, his body was practically going into shock. Suppressing a groan, he attempted to gently flip her over, but she woke up and snuggled even closer. Her eyes fluttered open for a brief moment before drifting shut once more.

"Uhm... Grace?" He suppressed a moan, his hands gently anchoring her hips to still her restless movements. "Moving like that isn't exactly helping."

"Oh..." Was the most eloquent word she could muster, too hazy from sleep and the undeniable pressure that pulsed between her legs. Before matters could escalate further, he tenderly lifted her and settled her beside him on the couch. She sighed when she lost the feel of his body and sat against an arrangement of cushions.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked shyly.

"Yes..." He shifted, crossing a leg over his knee. "I've never slept so peacefully in my whole life."

"Me too."

"Do you regret this? The kiss, I mean," he said, the tremor in his words betraying his uncertainty.

"Regret? Never." He leaned in, their foreheads almost touching. "I'd kiss you again. Would you?"

He brushed their mouths together in a featherlight kiss. "Does that answer your question?"

"Hmm... I am very pleased with you, Sergeant."

"You keep calling me that and I can't have enough."

"I'm glad you like it," she said, latching onto the hem of his shirt, her touch a gentle affirmation of their newfound closeness.

"You shouted my name back at the compound, remember? You helped me, Grace. You have no idea how much."

"And I hope I can keep helping you if you'll let me."

"You're so willing to risk your life," he said, a shadow of melancholy gathering in his eyes.

"For both of us and for the greater good. We've both been victims, but we can save the future."

"You are right..."

"Now," she said and cupped his shoulders, "where were we?"

James suppressed a growl when her fingers threaded through his hair, tenderly caressing the nape of his neck. Their world seemed to tilt, ever so slightly, as he mouthed at her lips, softly grazing his facial hair against her smooth skin. His tongue licked over her bottom lip, tasting her again, getting his head filled with her taste.

"I suggest we sleep together from now on," she sighed, moving her lips against his. "It's for the best."

"You are an incurable tease," he whispered on her skin, one calloused finger rubbing at her chin.

"Perhaps I am. But you seem to enjoy it, Sergeant."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #sebastianstan #sebastian stan edit #fanfic by aikaterini #fading scars #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #tfatws

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lifeofkaze · 1 year

Text

Post-It Notes

A/N: This story was written for the February prompt of the @hp-12monthsofmagic challenge.

“Come on, Charlie. Focus!”

The words of the young witch rang through the library, making several heads rise from the heavy tomes scattered across every available surface with irritated frowns. Realising the commotion she was causing, Ava reduced her voice to an urgent whisper.

“Your Care of Magical Creatures exam is soon - very soon - and you’re still only on chapter seven. The N.E.W.T.s are no joke.”

“I know, you don’t have to remind me every few minutes,” Charlie responded wryly, tapping the page on Redcaps and Hinkypunks with his finger. “And I’m on chapter seven on my third revision round, to be precise.”

“Shame you still can’t get your facts straight, then.”

“Says the one who never took Care of Magical Creatures in the first place.”

“And still you asked me to help you with revising.”

“That I did,” Charlie sighed. His eyes fell on the book lying in front of Ava. With a frown on his and a quiet cry of protest on her part, he pulled it toward him and ran his finger over its side. “What are these?”

Ava smacked his hand away as he attempted to remove one of the brightly coloured pieces of paper sticking out from between the pages. “They’re called post-it notes. Tulip got them from her Muggle Studies class.”

“What are they for?”

“They make it easier to organise your information.” Ava flicked open the heavy time. “You stick them onto anything you wish to remember. The important things, you know? See, you can even colour-code them.” Her eyes flashed with excitement as she pointed out the various notes stuck to the page. “Green is for important historical dates, orange for key events in each time period, blue for notorious exam questions, and red for everything I still need to revise.”

Charlie made a contemplative noise and pointed at the bigger pieces of pale yellow paper stuck, which were onto almost every page and covered in Ava’s small, neat writing. “And those?”

“Just some additional information.”

“And you can remember all of this?”

Ava paused and raised an eyebrow. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Charlie whistled quietly. “You’re going to teach the examiners something by the end of the day.”

His words had been meant to be encouraging, but all he drew from Ava was a tight-lipped smile.

“I doubt it.”

“I don’t. You’ll do great, you’ll see.”

“Thanks,” Ava sighed, a crease appearing between her brows as Charlie rose to his feet a moment later. “Where are you going? We’re not done.”

“Just remembered there’s something I need to take care of.”

He leaned in, supporting his weight on the table with his hand. The sleeve of his robes swished over Ava’s notes, but her protest was stifled when Charlie bowed his head and kissed her.

“See you later,” he smiled, giving her a second short kiss on the mouth. “Don’t study for too long.”

The corners of Ava’s mouth twitched. “No promises.”

“Of course not.”

***

The light filtering through the high windows had grown dark, and the library had emptied. The darkness was only broken by the light of a single candle, in front of which Ava was resting her head on a dusty tome, her eyes firmly closed and her breathing calm and even.

A sudden sound made her jerk upright. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around in confusion, a curse leaving her lips when she realised the time; she must have missed both dinner and her Prefect meeting.

Looking around for Madam Pince, Ava hastily gathered her things and stuffed them into her bag. When she picked up her battered copy of A History of Magic, she paused. Setting down the heavy book again, she flicked through its pages. Not finding what she had been looking for, she did the same with her stack of notes, continuing her search underneath the table and her chair, but there was no mistake - her post-it notes had disappeared.

Her brows drawn together in confusion, Ava turned her head as the soft sound of rustling paper reached her ear, the same one that had woken her from her involuntary nap. Her frown dissolved into an expression of wonder as the source of the noise presented itself to her - a little bird figurine, folded from a very familiar-looking, pale yellow piece of paper.

The paper bird hovered in front of her face, but when Ava reached for it, it shot forward, unfolded itself and stuck itself to the middle of her forehead. Pulling the sticky note away from her face, Ava’s lips curled into a smile as she recognised Charlie’s hand on it.

Stop studying.

A second rustling sound drew Ava’s attention to a second origami bird, which had appeared right on the edge of the candlelight. Like the first one, it evaded her grasp when she reached for it, flitting away and into the darkness instead. A few feet from her, it stopped and waited as if expecting her to follow it. Her curiosity piqued, Ava shouldered her bag, extinguished her candle and followed the bird into the corridor outside.

Her paper guide led her away from the library and down various corridors and flights of steps. On every other corner, Ava could spot another one of her missing post-it notes - some with arrows drawn on them, others with small doodles of dragons - her wonder growing with every step. When the origami bird fluttered out a barely lit side entrance, Ava had to accelerate her steps to match the pace of her enchanted guide, which was now shooting down the path leading to the shore of the Black Lake. When she saw the figure leaning against an upturned tree trunk by the waterfront, her face split into a smile.

“Knew you’d still be in the library,” Charlie greeted her. “You’re as predictable as clockwork.”

“Actually, I fell asleep,” Ava chuckled in response. She held up the stack of notes she had gathered on her way. “Any words on wasting my perfectly good post-it notes?”

“I didn’t waste them at all.”

“Pretty sure I disagree.”

“Disagree all you like,” Charlie grinned, producing Ava’s now considerably diminished pad of sticky notes, “and I’m not even done yet.”

“What -” Ava began, but before she had the chance to finish, Charlie had taken off another post-it note and stuck it onto her forehead once again.

“What are you doing this for?” she snapped, more than a little irritated at being continuously assaulted with her own stationery.

“Only doing what you told me.”

“I very highly doubt that.”

“You did.” Charlie’s mouth curved into a smile. “Stick them onto the important things. Remember?”

“Would you mind stopping it, then?” Ava muttered, but her annoyance had faded, replaced by warmth rising to her cheeks.

“Sure. I’m done now, anyway.”

Giving him a look, Ava pulled the last note off her face. Another message was written on it, which read,

Stop worrying. You’ll do fine. You’re amazing.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, raising her eyes to Charlie’s face, who smiled in return.

“No need. But now it’s time for the most important thing.” He turned sideways and held his arm out for Ava to take. “Are you ready?”

“Not quite.”

Producing a quill from her bag, Ava pulled off one of the remaining post-it notes and scribbled something onto it. Ignoring the rapid beating of her heart, she pushed Charlie’s ginger hair to the side and - as he had done with her - stuck the note onto the middle of his forehead.

“The important things,” she mumbled, looking at the tips of her shoes in the grass rather than Charlie as he took the note to read it. She looked up at his prolonged silence, momentarily regretting what she had written, until she saw the stunned expression on Charlie’s face.

“Ava…” he said with a voice that sounded rough. “Ava, I…”

“It’s fine,” she shook her head, stepping closer and placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. Feeling his hand in the small of her back as he pulled her closer and his lips found hers properly was answer enough.

“Right,” Charlie said after a few blissful moments in which the world had seemed to stop, just for them. He cleared his throat. “Are you ready for our walk now, m’lady?”

With a smile, Ava looped her arm through his and let him guide her along the starlit path before them.

“Whenever you are.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley #ava campbell #hp12mom #twelve months of magic

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kimbap-r0ll · 2 years

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Demon Slayer characters of your choice react to going on a mission for a demon that suddenly appeared and disappeared as quickly as it came, meeting a depressed child who was secretly harboring the demon in their house and feeding it small critters. The demon is actually their dad who ate their mom, and the kid knew that their dad isn’t human anymore but at the same time didn’t want to lose what’s left of their only family they have left, so they locked them up instead.

Wait this is so sad 😭. Reminds me a bit of Okuyasu and his dad for some reason (JJBA part 4 fans anyone?), maybe it's the father becoming something nonhuman and the children taking care of them? Anyways thank you for the ask! I'm mixing it up between demons and demon slayers for this! There's no romantic connection, just a scenario btw There isn't a lot of depression mentioned in these but I'm putting a warning just in case

Rengoku, Giyuu, Muzan react to a child taking care of a demon!father

tw: depression

Rengoku

He was able to catch up to the demon really quickly, just beyond a hill and into the forest. There was a small house in the woods, and there was light within the house. He hoped that the demon hadn't already killed the inhabitants

Opening the door wide and fast, he drew his sword from the scabbard and expected the demon to lunge at him from whatever corpse it was eating. However, what he saw was a human child cooking some bamboo shoots. They looked up at him, eyes tired. "Are you a thief?" they asked.

"It's not safe in here, kid," Rengoku's smile didn't falter once. He was concerned for the kid, but the last thing he wanted was the child to also be terrified, so an assuring face would hopefully be enough was what he was thinking. That was until the child picked up one of the bamboo shoots and carried it towards a corner where something was whimpering

It was the demon. Rengoku shouted at the kid to stay away, pointing the sword at it but the child threw themselves on the demon. "No! You're mistaken, this is my father! I don't...don't know what happened to him but he's innocent!" they cried. Rengoku was confused, this was clearly some form of manipulation. He didn't stop, he kept walking closer to the two, but the child kept begging to not kill the demon while the demon was growling at the flame pillar

Was this demon safe? No, there was no way the demon would keep the child alive to keep them safe forever. It would eat the kid and continue to kill more innocent lives. Rengoku picked the child up, out of the demon's arms and placed them far away. Without another word, as the demon lunged at the demon slayer, Rengoku's blade was swift. With one swing, it was all over.

The child was screaming, crying and cursing at Rengoku for what he did. Though Rengoku tried to calm the child down and eventually helped them come to terms with the situation, the image of the child protecting their father never left his mind. This scene would replay in his head when he saw Tanjiro for the first time.

Giyuu

He was cold. He knew that. There was no other demon slayer as swift and calculated as he was, at least from what was whispered among the other members of the corps. Yet this time, chasing after the demon and stumbling into a house in the woods he felt his heart twinge.

A child was in there, not at all afraid of the demon that sat right behind them. The child was nibbling on some senbei and the demon looked like it was eating some kind of lizard. It was a bizarre scene.

"Child, get away from here, now," Giyuu drew his sword and pointed it at the monster sitting behind the child. But the kid looked up, a tired gaze in their eyes but they didn't budge. They only continued to eat. "What do you want, I don't have money," the kid said. Giyuu was starting to lose his patience.

"You do not see the demon sitting behind you?" Giyuu asked. There was no answer, but when Giyuu quickly strode to take the child to safety suddenly the kid's eyes lit up and they quickly stood up and clung to the monster behind them. Giyuu paused, was this kid also a demon? Something wasn't right though, the child clearly seemed human

"W-wait, are you accusing my father?!" the child looked frightened. It was the first genuine reaction Giyuu got from the child since he first entered the house. Giyuu didn't answer, and instead took the child's arm and yanked them off of the demon. "Wait, WAIT! No! That's my father! He's done nothing wrong!"

Giyuu didn't listen to the child as the demon lunged at him. The child screamed, shouting at the two men to stop but Giyuu was faster. With a single swing he cut the head off. Everything went silent, the demon finally made a sound, something that sounded like the child's name.

The child ran towards the head as Giyuu left the scene, not bothering with the aftermath. But from the tidbits he heard, he could hear words of love and sadness, clearly showing that the child's father had been the demon. Though his heart was cold, perhaps this was a crack. Perhaps this was what helped Giyuu understand Tanjiro a little bit better.

Muzan

To start, he knew that a lowly demon wasn't going to make it out alive against a demon slayer. He had placed a simple task of getting stronger by the next month, basically eating as many people as the demon could but this lower class couldn't do that for some reason.

Muzan happened to make a visit to the demon but when he was about to enter the house, the demon stopped him at the entrance. "No, you can't come in here, this is my home." "My, it seems you're worse at following directions than I anticipated," Muzan replied, thinking this would make the demon yield. But the monster didn't budge, he held his ground.

"There's nothing in here for you to see my lord," the demon continued. "Did I give you permission to speak?" Muzan quickly cut in, approaching the demon closer and grabbing his head with his hand. The demon made gurgled protests as his skull was being crushed. "You didn't even manage to finish an easy task. 'Drink as much blood and eat as much flesh as you can until the next moon,' is that so hard for you?" Muzan asked, not expecting an answer.

A child was sitting inside, playing with their clothes as they waited patiently for their father to come back inside. Though they knew they could be killed, the father was the only connection they had left to their family. Yet, the child couldn't hear the father's voice anymore. Curious, the child rose from the ragged tatami floor and looked at the door. "Father?"

What blew open the door wasn't the father but the father's head disintegrating each second. The child looked at the head, shocked, eyes wide but no sound coming out of their mouth. "Oh, a human was the thing keeping that idiot behind? Pathetic." The child turned around to see a figure standing in the moonlight. Red eyes bore into theirs.

"W-what are you?" The child asked. Was this it? Was this how the child was going to end? Well, it wasn't what they were planning for, but maybe it was better if everything ended like this. But the man didn't say anything, instead approached the child calmly. "You might do, that is if you can take the amount of blood I give you," the man said and before the child could ask anything, they felt a searing pain on their neck and the world faded to black.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny pillars #kny rengoku #rengoku headcanons #kny giyuu #giyuu headcanons #kny muzan #muzan headcanons #kyojuro rengoku #giyuu tomioka #muzan kibutsuji #angst

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windwheeler-aster · 2 years

Note

hello there!! may i please order a black tea with milk art in a crimson red (arguments) teacup with some candy? and could it also be hurt/comfort? thank you so so much and congrats on the milestone!! ♥️

someone better

summary: it isn’t often that you and your old friend, kaeya, hang out. and while you do miss his presence in your day to day life, you knew it would be better if he wasn’t there. but, surely, just one night walk with him wouldn’t hurt? would it?

masterlist | event

customer’s order: a black tea (kaeya) with milk art (one shot) in a crimson red teacupt (arguements) with some candy (childhood freinds) on the side. extra: customer requested it to be hurt/comfort.

pairing: kayea x reader

reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them), has been friends with kaeya since childhood, reader has been seeing a man for a while but it’s not official or anything (and he has no intention to), and reader is not the traveler

word count: 1,410 words (7~ min)

genre: romance, hurt/comfort, confession

format: one shot

warnings: reader being strung along/used, mean/meaner friendship dynamic, arguing, things escalating, reader shutting kaeya up with a kiss, and kaeya being slightly possessive

a/n: this kinda just fell out of me in one afternoon (which i’m so grateful for, ofc) so this might seem a little weird from what i usually do? regardless, i still hope you enjoy💖

The walk from Mondstadt’s gates to the Whispering Woods was short. Although at the pace you walked, one would think it was a treacherous hike across Mondstadt instead.

You followed the trail to the Whispering Woods. You dragged your feet with each step, the sound like nails on a chalkboard to your ears. If it were not for the nearby snoring hilichurls and unbothered slimes, you would have kept your gaze to the trail alone. But instead, you gazed around at the scenery before pulling your eye over to the Whispering Woods.

Kaeya Alberich, a man with whom you had been good friends since childhood, stood by the woods opening. A bored expression rested on his face, although he looked quite frustrated to any stranger. He flicked a coin over and over again between his fingers on his right hand. Each time it flipped through the air, he snatched it without even looking.

As you drew nearer, your footsteps quickly alerted Kaeya.

A delighted expression bloomed on his face and he broke out into a wide grin. He beckoned you over while he took great strides to meet you.

“Hey,” you said breathlessly.

“Hey,” he exclaimed. “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Kaeya’s single eye rolled around before he pulled you into a tight hug. “You better not. I missed you, y’know.”

“We live in the same city,” you reminded him.

“Then how come we haven’t hung out?”

You frowned and pulled away from the hug to look at him. “You know I’ve been—”

“Busy, yeah, yeah, I know. You know I’m kidding, though. Right?” Kaeya asked. “Archons, have you always been so uptight?”

You scowled at him. “Have you always been so—”

“Insufferable?”

You turned your head away from him to hide your smile. “Yeah.”

Kaeya chuckled as he slipped his hand around your waist. Gently, he guided you to begin walking into the woods with him. His fingers gently drummed against your skin, an old habit he had whenever he was nervous.

You cursed at the butterflies that soared in your stomach, previously confident that they no longer existed. You were so sure you had moved on from your feelings; that was the only reason you accepted Kaeya’s offer in the first place. So, you thought, why do I feel like a teenager again?

“Woah, watch your step.” Kaeya’s hand disappeared from your waist and slowly trailed over to your hand. He helped you hop off a large twisted root with a gentle step.

“Feels just like we’re kids again,” he murmured as he let go of your hand. “Me, guiding you through all the trails of Mondstadt. And you, bumbling and fumbling around until I helped.”

You chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I was the one who helped you across the harder trails, Kaeya.”

“Yeah? You’re sure?” he asked playfully. “Name one time you helped me when we explored.”

“Well, there was that time across the river in Windrise,” you began to count off your fingers, “the cliff at Falcon Coast, the other cliff at Falcon Coast, the abandoned Thosand’s Winds Temple, the—”

“Alright, alright,” Kaeya waved his hand dismissively as a smirk formed on your lips. “I said one, not all of them.”

You laughed as he shook his head in defeat. “Admit it, Alberich: between the two of us, you are the bumbling and fumbling idiot.”

He winced. “Idiot? I didn’t call you an idiot! That’s harsh, y’know.”

“Well, if I don’t humble you, then who will?” you teased. “Archons know how many adoring suitors are lined up for you, ready to agree no matter what.”

He turned to look you in the eye. “They’re not suitors… just some admirers, that’s all.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” you muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing!”

Kaeya shook his head in disbelief and looked ahead, setting a slower pace to talk with you. You forced yourself to look away from him, or else you’ll fall in love with how the moonlight hits his face at just the right angle.

“But what about you?”

“What about me?” you asked.

“Suitors,” he clarified. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve been single all this time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being single,” you defended.

“So you are?”

You chuckled nervously, “It’s… it’s, uh, complicated.”

Kaeya glanced over to see your crestfallen expression. He felt a pang of guilt strike his heart. He didn’t mean to sadden you; it had been his last intention. The least he could do was to relieve your stress. And what better way than to talk it out.

“Tell me about it,” he said.

“You’re sure?”

He nodded. “Of course, I want to help.”

“So, I’ve been seeing this guy for a while now,” you explain, “we’ve been on… I want to say something like eight dates now. We have some good chemistry, and I think I like him and want to be with him but… but he doesn’t seem to want a relationship.”

What? Is this guy for real? Playing around with your feelings and dragging you along? Unbelievable, if I get my hands on this guy, I’ll—

Kaeya inhaled deeply. Stay calm, and be a supportive friend.

“How are you so sure?” he asked through a stiffened jaw.

“I did try to talk about it with him,” you replied, “on our fourth date. But he… he said he needed some time, and he wasn’t ready for a relationship yet.”

“So, what? He’s been… just using you for a good time?”

Your cheeks warmed up at the thought, and you glared at your friend. “No! No, of course not. We haven’t even gotten that far yet. Outside of the taverns, we hardly even see each other.”

Kaeya furrowed his brow. “So, not only is he toying with your feelings, but he’s also wasting your time? Hey, quick question, what’s his name?”

“Kaeya—”

“I just want to talk!”

You sighed and brought a hand up to your temple. Of course, Kaeya wouldn’t have understood.

“Look, I know that you’re concerned, but just drop it,” you snapped. “I get that you’re my friend, but you don’t need to care so much.”

“I—ugh.” Kaeya turned on his heel to look at you. With his one eye, he appeared to stare into your soul. “But that’s exactly why I care so much! That guy that you’ve been seeing? He doesn’t even deserve a shred of your time. He doesn’t deserve you.”

You felt your right eye twitch. “Deserve— how in all of Teyvat do you know what I deserve?”

“Because I, of all people, know who you deserve!”

“Then who?” you yelled. “Who do I ‘deserve’ then, Kaeya? Because I have looked left and right, up and down, for someone who—”

“Well, you haven’t looked hard enough!” Kaeya retorted. “Because I’m right here.”

You flinched. “What?”

He opened his mouth but then promptly shut it. Kaeya turned away from you as he felt his cheeks warm and his heart picks up the pace.

“Kaeya…?” you took a tentative step towards him. “D-did you just say—”

“Just forget it, alright?” he blurted out. “Just pretend I didn’t say anything at all— hmph!”

You had turned Kaeya to you and kissed him, effectively shutting him up. He was quick to return your affection, matching how much pressure he put on your lips. His hands found their way to your waist again. Although this time, his fingers didn’t drum against you. Instead, he played with the hem of your tunic and idly rubbed the fabric between two fingers.

Mutually, you broke away from each other for air. A large closed-mouth smile spread across Kaeya’s now swollen lips, his teeth peeking through slightly. His eye was full of love-struck gaze, as though his pupil had transformed into a small black heart. You reached out to brush out some stray hairs that fell into his face.

“Sorry,” you murmured.

“For what?”

“For not realizing sooner,” you clarified, “that you liked me so much.”

He scowled playfully. “Well, it’s not my fault that you’re dense.”

You glared at him.

“Kidding, kidding,” he murmured as he leaned over to kiss you again. “I’m glad you know now; that’s all that matters. Right?”

“Of course,” you giggled. “But how will I break the news to that guy?”

“Just tell him there’s not enough of you to go around,” he murmured against your lips as he kissed you repeatedly. “Tell him you’re mine, and I’m sure he’ll understand.”

thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖

#wheeler's works #from the lovely anon #wheeler's 250 #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #wheeler's events #romance #hurt/comfort #confession

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