#we're completely comfortable sending them back to their deaths
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Merlin as Arthur's familiar/Arthur's shapeshifter falcon AU
LINK TO THE OTHER PARTS: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 (You're here) , PART 6
After the third day Merlin doesn't come back from his visit to Claws' partner, Arthur gets worried and send search parties to look for him. Merlin said he'd be back soon. He wouldn't just leave and abandon him. Something wasn't right. Something bad must have happened. The prince is now in the middle of the Woods shouting his bird's name while other knights keep searching their surroundings.
Arthur: Merlin!
Knight 1: Sire, it's getting late. Maybe we should-
Arthur: No! We're not leaving until we find him!
Knight 2: (approaches running) Sire! I think I found something.
They follow the knight and they find the corpse of a dead merlin and a torn red neckerchief in the grass beside it. There's other corpse of a bigger falcon, obviously not a merlin. The crime scene is clear to Arthur. Both birds died fighting each other.
Arthur:...
Knight 2: I'm really sorry for...uh... your loss, your highness. I know he was very dear to you.
Knight 1: Yeah, he was a.. a really good hunter and... died with dignity! Like a warrior! He was-
Arthur: That's not Merlin.
Knight 2: (surprised) But, sire, the neckerchief is there. It must be him!
Knight 1: And that’s clearly a merlin.
Arthur: Yes, that's the neckerchief and that's a merlin, but it's not MY Merlin. Because THAT merlin is a female.
Arthur can't really blame his knights for not noticing. Even merlins confused Merlin for a female most of the time. But he knew the patern of his feathers well enough. Arthur doesn't know how the neckerchief ended there, but if it is there Merlin can't be far. Soon enough, he hears a familiar chirp.
Merlin: (chirps loudly from a tree)
Arthur: Merlin! (Turns to the sound and, as soon as he lays his eyes on Merlin, he's filled with joy and relief) Thank the gods! What are you doing there? Come down!
Merlin: (shakes his head and chirps in sorrow)
Arthur: (concerned) You can't? Why? Are you hurt?
Knight 1: (whispers to other knight) he's talking to the bird?
Knight 2: Get use to it (looks more carefully the branch Merlin is in) Sire! There's something under the bird.
Knight 1: Wait! Is that a... nest?
Arthur: (in realization, looks at Merlin and then looks at the dead merlin at his feet) Brownie?
Later in Arthur's chambers. Arthur and Morgana comfort a very distraught Merlin who is in his human form holding a nest with 5 eggs as close and as carefully as he can. The three are sitting on the bed.
Merlin: (sad but with no tears left to share) I was too late. I couldn’t save her. And the eggs were alone and needed incubation so I couldn’t leave either. I'm sorry I worried you.
Morgana: (with a hand on his shoulder) We completely understand, Merlin. Don't worry.
Arthur: (with an arm wrap around Merlin) I wish I had come sooner. You shouldn't have grieved Brownie alone. (Confused) Why couldn't you just use magic to transport yourself and the eggs here if you didn't want to leave them? You've done that before.
Merlin: (looks at the nest) Eggs are so fragile, I didn't want to risk them breaking in the way. Besides... (cuts himself and blushes a little)
Arthur: What?
Merlin: (smiles at Arthur) I knew you would come for me.
Arthur: (looks at him lovinly) wait (sudden realization) you didn't leave the nest at all? How did you eat?
Merlin: ...
Arthur: (sighs) I'll bring you some food. Want something in particular?
Merlin: Larks, please 🥺
Arthur: (doubts for a second but then kisses him quickly on the cheek before leaving)
Merlin:... 😳😊☺️
Morgana: Are you going to put those little ones somewhere?
Merlin: (looks around) I think Arthur's window is a good place. Do you think he'll mind?
Morgana: I'll make sure he won’t.
Later. Arthur and Morgana at Claws' grave now also Brownie's grave.
Arthur: At least now they are together.
Morgana: Well done, Arthur. Now you left 5 merlin chicks orphan.
Arthur: (ofended) Hey! Brownie's death wasn't my fault!
Morgana: But if you hadn't killed Claws, he would've been able to protect Brownie and his eggs!
Arthur: Oh, come on! That falcon was more than twice his size. He wouldn't have had a chance.
Morgana: Well, now we'll never know. (Sighs) How did Uther react when you told him you brought a nest with 5 merlin eggs with you?
Arthur:...
Morgana: You haven't told him?! 😨
Arthur: You know how much I had to fight for him to let me keep Merlin! You think he's going to let me keep 5 more?
Morgana: So what are you planning to do?
Arthur: Well, merlin eggs hatch in days time. We can hide them until then. Once they are out of their shell I can leave them in the wood-
Morgana: Oh, no. You're not abandoning those merlins! You killed their parents so now you are going to take responsibility!
Arthur: But-
Morgana: Responsability I said! Now if you excuse me, I'm going to make five more neckerchiefs (she leaves)
Arthur: ...
Arthur: What just happened? 😧
#merlin bbc#bbc merlin#merlin#merthur#merlin fanfic#merlin fic#merlin prompt#merthur fic#arthur and merlin#merlin and arthur#merthur prompt#Merlin as Arthur's familiar/Arthur's shapeshifter falcon AU
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A Friend in Death
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing: Tony Stark & Male!Reader
Summary: Death is something to fear and yet Tony sees him as if he's an old friend
Word Count: 1,766
"Have you ever met death?"
Tony looked up from his tinkering to look at Peter, who had stopped doing his homework to ask such a dark question. Peter was naturally curious about everything and that's why Tony liked the boy, but sometimes his curiosity could be so morbid.
"Oh, yeah, we're like good friends."
"That's...." Peter trails off before meeting Tony's eyes, "Not comforting."
Peter looked somewhat worried, Tony would go back to his tinkering, but he knows the boy's tendency to keep the conversation going. He waited for Peter to gather his thoughts, he watched Peter straighten his back before leaning his arms against the worktable.
"But, didn't Thor tell us about his sister Hela? Isn't she the goddess of death?"
"Yes, for them and anyone who worships them. But, the death I met, is, let's say, universal. This is the death that is waiting for you, picking you up to take you to the afterlife. Death comes to those who don't believe, half believe and anything in between."
"And you've met him?"
"More than I would like, and he could probably say the same."
"What's he like?"
"You know you're not supposed to be here."
Tony gasped awake and was met with (e/c) eyes. They were inviting but at the same time cold. Tony slowly sits up, his eyes focusing on the figure in front of him, who was crouched next to him
"Who are you?"
"I don't think you'd like the answer."
"Oh, god," Tony shudders, his mind racing and if this is what he is thinking, then it was justified reason to start panicking, "I'm dead, aren't I?"
"Yes and no."
"What?" Tony was confused, tilting his head to the side with furrowed eyebrows, "You're death."
"That I am, but you're in limbo as you humans call it - You're dead but not fully if you get me," You say softly, holding a hand out to him, "And call me (y/n), I found that humans feel more at ease being around me when they don't call me death."
"(Y/n)?" Tony was very confused by this whole situation, you drop the hand knowing Tony would not take it, "Also, you look like one of us."
"Eh, I picked it out from the handful of human names and animal names I've encountered and thought it suited me. Trust me, I've been through so wild names, but I like (Y/n)," You shrugged your shoulders then continue to answer his questions, "Also, human form puts you, funny little humans, at ease. I'm not completely heartless. But, if you prefer my other form-"
"No!" Tony exclaimed, you raised an eyebrow at him, "No, this is somewhat....comforting?"
"Well, that's good."
There was silence between the two of you. Tony looks at you, and you looked back expectantly and again, a hand stretched out, waiting for more questions - after all, you are one of the only beings who had answers.
"So, what do you mean I'm not fully dead?"
You sighed, knowing Tony wouldn't take your hand as you stand up, stretching your back - as if it did anything for you. Tony stayed on the floor, his eyes staying on you.
"I mean that you're not to supposed to die yet," You explained, giving him a pointed look, "It's not your time yet, you have a few more years to go."
"A few!?"
"Poor choice of words, few can be ten, fifteen, twenty years from now."
"Right."
"So, I'm sending you back, no hard feelings alright? I'll see you in a few."
"Did you miss me?"
Once again, Tony gasped awake, this time looking around him, last time he was here he didn't take notice of his surrounding. He noticed that he could see his body, and-
"Don't pay attention to that," You say, drawing his attention to you, "You've made quite a mess in New York, haven't you?"
"You speak to me as if I'm a child."
"Well, in comparison, you are."
Tony huffs, taking his eyes away from you. He swears this is his fourth, maybe fifth time meeting you. After almost dying to his godfather and a palladium poisoning. He doesn't really want to acknowledge you yet as he can see Thor, Steve and Hulk towering over him. He sees the wreckage that Loki had brought upon New York.
"Did it work?"
"Huh? Oh, flying the missile up to the wormhole, yeah, it worked."
"So, I'm dead."
You chuckled, crossing your arms over your chest, "No."
"But-" You give him a pointed look, "Right, limbo, not my time yet, gotcha."
You nodded before placing a hand on his shoulder, "You're an interesting being I do have to say, Tony."
"I think I should be flattered?"
"I see too many people walk through limbo, ready to accept their fate in their afterlife. It's rare to see someone come here and not be accepted by the afterlife, not once but multiple times."
"Perhaps, there's a reason."
"It's not ready for you, Tony," You softly soothe him, even in your presence he seemed to relax, "Trust in me, Tony, for I am death and I know when I will be taking you. You still have to show the world that you're Tony Stark, you still have a lot of growing to do before you come to me."
"Are you sending me back?"
"I can't hold you here any longer, so yeah."
"Uh, I think I'm ready, I wasn't ready last time."
You smirked at him, placing your fingers on his forehead. Pushing it back to the land of the living.
"I'm starting to think you like me."
"I promise you I am not doing it on purpose."
You chuckled, this time upon meeting, you had your scythe. It was exactly what he imagined it to be and more. It stood up by itself, and he could see black smoke swirling up the scythe. He looks at you, and you stared at him sincerely, your arms crossed over your chest and leaning against your scythe.
"I'm starting not to believe you."
"Well, I guess I have to visit a friend every so often," Tony shrugs as you rolled your eyes, "We are friends right?"
"I guess, you've seen me more than I like."
"So, what's my cause of death this time?"
"You're horrible, you know that?" You say in amusement before standing straight and grabbing your scythe, "You really need to learn who to trust, Tony."
"Steve?"
"Used your father's shield and smashed it into your arc reactor," You say in distaste, it was the first Tony heard you talk like that, even your facial expression was showing disgust.
"Are you allowed to have an opinion?"
"Hey, I'm death, I can be as caring or terrifying as I want to be. I know everyone's life history. Trust me, having an opinion makes this transition easy."
"So, I'm done now?"
You laughed, a little more than Tony would have liked, "I think you know the answer to that."
Tony sighed, "I don't like this, coming back to life really takes it out on the human body."
"I figured as much, maybe make a better decision?"
"You're hilarious," Tony replied dryly.
You grinned, tilting your head to the side, "Tony, from the greatness of my unexisting heart - your time will come and you will know when. I will always be there to greet you like an old friend."
"I guess that's comforting."
"I guess it is comforting to know that my parents and uncle Ben got to the afterlife safely," Peter hums before looking back down at his homework, "Thanks, Tony!"
"No worries, kid."
Tony did miss you, even though each interaction was a few minutes long. There was something about you that was so welcoming to him, but then he thinks to himself - you are death, after all. You are supposed to be caring for those who deserve it.
Perhaps, it was his reason to keep going on in life, you have shown him nothing but kindness and care, deep down he knows that he's a good person to receive such treatment. He tries not to think about death, but he can't help but find comfort.
Knowing you're on the other side with a smile on your face.
He had no fear of dying anymore, the fear of the unknown after this life was non-existent. He was sucked back into reality when Peter threw a paper aeroplane at his head. He looked at the teenager and smiled, Tony relaxed his shoulders - life was looking up now.
"Hello, old friend."
Tony, for the first time, did not gasp awake. He felt peaceful and he could lie in his spot all day. He slowly opens his eyes and is met with the sight of a clear blue sky. He slowly sat up and saw he was in a field of flowers, a fresh scent of grass and off to the distance, he could see trees.
"So, this is it?"
"I don't think you'll like the answer."
Tony hummed, looking over at you. Your scythe standing next to you as you were crouched down next to him with your cloak draped over you, the hood resting nicely on your head.
"You're awfully quiet, Tony," You pointed out, poking his cheek, "You know most people beg to go back once they know they're dead."
"I've prepared myself."
"No doubt about that," You mumbled, before clearing your throat, "Welcome to the afterlife!"
"It's not much."
"I can't seem to please you can I?" You teased, before sighing as Tony seemed fixated on something else, "Tony, this is your afterlife, you're little paradise. I am not supposed to tell you things that happen here because it's yours, and in a few years your family will return to you."
"Like Pepper?" Tony questioned, hopefulness in his voice, "Happy? Rhodey?"
"And Peter and Morgan," You finished, tilting your head to the side as your gentle stare bore into Tony's eyes, "It'll be a few years for them, but, for you? It'll be like yesterday you just died."
"Will they be okay? You know, without me?"
You softly smile at him, "They will struggle with their grief, but they'll be okay."
"You know, (y/n), thank you. You've made coming to terms with this so easy."
"It's not common I find someone returning to me before their time, multiple times if I must add. But, I treasure friends and they will receive the best from what death can offer.
You stand up, giving a hand out to him.
"Now, Tony, will you finally take my hand?
#tony stark imagine#tony stark x male!reader#tony stark#x male reader#platonic#avengers x male reader#avenger imagines#personal favourite
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Bb, I know you're Garreth's girl now, but please do your girl a solid and write an angsty Seb × MC for #5. Please and thank you! ♡
Open arms
Sebastian Sallow x gn!reader
Tags: angst | mention of death
500 words
"oh, shit. I'm in love with you??" prompt:
5. them running into your arms
A/n: Oh okay fine we're having a Sebby day today are we? Understandable, he's been rotting my brain lately, too. Actually ended up being Sebastian pov because no reason, and metaphorical running...sorry I went off-piste didn't I. I am the woooorst.
Sebastian's second kill came at a price; his sanity slowly unravelling as he headed back in a daze. This hadn't been like the first, he told himself, though the similarities were stark. It had been self defence, and completely justified. Nobody could blame an Auror for severing an artery with a well-timed Diffindo when his life was on the line.
He was drawing glances from every angle even at the late hour, though the onlookers appeared too peturbed to approach. He must have looked a state; a bloody maniac with tears pooling in his eyes and his wand gripped tightly at his side. He should report in, but his feet took him to where he needed to go; perhaps not where he should have gone had the logical side of him still been intact.
Why did he run to you after all this time? Was it really just the need for an old friend, or was it something more?
He could have asked Ominis; he'd likely have some practical advice for him, knowing as much as anyone how it is to deal with the trauma of hurting another. His best friend. He even could have sought Poppy, who's inherent sweetness would have been a balm on his emotional wounds. Yet, he found himself clutching you tightly in your living room as if the world were ending. Perhaps it was.
His skin tingled where your hands roamed, the gentle clasp on the back of his neck sending shivers down his spine. He felt his breath steady, his eyes close as held you, and you held him back. The horrors he'd witnessed suddenly out of reach, kept behind a veil of comfort. There was another entirely different reason his heart was racing now, and as he tentatively pulled away to look down at you, it became painfully obvious.
You met his gaze; your eyes burrowing into his mind. It was almost like legilimency, the way you appeared to know what ailed him just by looking at him. You didn't need to ask what atrocities he'd committed; you knew him.
"You did what you had to do."
That had been one reason he'd found you, amongst all others. You would never judge him, for you would have done the same. The other, less obvious reason lay in the flutter of his heart as he brushed your wayward strands of hair from your face. Your sweet scent filled his nostrils and dizzied his head, masking the smell of blood and decay that splattered his clothing.
"I didn't mean to..."
"I know. But I'm here for you. You don't have to be alone if you don't want to be."
Of course you would be, because what had been a murky uncertainty was now glaringly obvious. Sebastian ran a finger down your cheek, waiting for you to flinch away or tell him to stop, but it never came. Your breath hitched and your eyes flickered across his face, yet you still let him brush your soft lips with his thumb.
"Why did you come here, Sebastian?" you whispered.
A good question not ten minutes before.
"Because I love you. And I think you love me too."
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Do you need…anything? The last 24 hours back. I'm afraid I don't have that power. A hug. Yeah. Come here. It's okay.
| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION
4.01 - Life and Death
One of my favourite moment… There's something so intimate with this scene, like we're intruding.
It's how Tim is particularly attentive and thoughtful, immediately inviting Lucy to stay at his place, so she doesn't end up at her apartment where she would only be reminded of Jackson's death. He's right that she should not be alone and honestly, I don't think he wanted to be by himself either.
It's how, for a little moment, they're back to their usual bickering, fighting over who sleeps on the coach and Lucy not caving in… But there's also this uncertainty between them : Tim wants to help but doesn't know how and Lucy looks completely lost. Her little comment about wanting the 24 hours back is so reminiscent of her wish for a time machine back in Now and Then… Her request for a hug is so bold and so hesitant at the same time, as if she blurted it before realising what she just said. Only he doesnt let her take it back because this is something he can do for her. If he can give her some comfort, he's absolutely going to do it. I sometimes feel like this moment is a window into what he might have wanted to do back after Day of Death. But they weren't as close then.
It's how this hug is so soft, between the little come here, the way he seems to envelop her, his hand in her hair… It doesn't last very long but it's enough to send them into a spiral. The moment they pull away and are just staring into each other's eyes… It's full of tension. Tim looks almost breathless. They're this close to share a kiss before he turns away completely. The pining after that… Both in their bed, fidgeting and looking towards the other's direction, itching to go there… Lucy getting up before hearing Tim on the phone and sitting right back down…
It's how this was a moment full of possibilities, at the wrong time. And to me, this is really where it all began for them. When they started realising that there might be more to their bond than mere friendship. That longing just hit them in the face and they suddenly didn't know what was happening. But once Tim got that phone call, this realisation took a backseat. Maybe it was because none of them were in the right emotional space… Maybe they were scared to risk losing the other right after losing a friend… Maybe they thought it was unrequited… Maybe a little bit of all the above. Whatever it was, they got back to their old dynamic. Or at least, tried to. But the shift was still there. Even after Lucy became Tim's aide and once again, his direct subordinate. They still became much closer. Lucy no longer had Jackson and Angela was busy with her family. They did things outside work, much more personal than paintballing, like fixing a childhood home or going on a double date…
It's how this hug planted the seed that blossomed for a season… before a kiss turned everything upside down.
#the rookie#chenford#chenfordedit#chenford edit#lucy chen#tim bradford#4.01#Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition
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Now that we're entering into 2024, I'm asking some artists and writers that I follow:
1) What is the one piece you're most proud of from this past year?
2) What are some pieces that you would have liked more people to see? If you can include links, I'd love to go check them out!
3) What were your top three favorite pieces (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?
(As always, no pressure to respond! Feel free to just ignore, or let me know if you'd rather I not send you these kinds of asks in the future.)
This is such a sweet and fun ask!! Thanks so much! I enjoyed seeing other authors answering this it’s so hype to get it myself.
1. This is hard to answer, because this year I tried to do something different with every fic I posted. When I got a concept I very pointedly didn’t shy away from it because it seemed difficult, or I thought I might be bad at it, so there’s something that makes me proud with each one. IF I HAD TO CHOOSE THOUGH I’m going to cheat and pick two.
What it Will Be I’m proud of this because it fell out of me SO EASY. I felt like the process of writing it was a testament to how hard I’ve been working at improving all year, and it came together very quickly and very well. I’m also proud because I incorporated @heckitall ‘s comic page to base it off of, and I’d never tried writing fic for a visual media like that. It was super fun!
On the OTHER end of the spectrum is Case of the Hidden City vs Lou Jitsu because it is VERY technically and narratively complicated and is by far the most ambitious thing I’ve ever written. It’s very hard, but I am VERY proud because I haven’t QUIT it. It’s not complete yet, but it is a good amount of the way there and I’m excited to finish it. Probably once I’ve recovered from surgery lol.
2. This sounds insincere maybe, but I really am happy with the engagement I get on my fic. I really do write my fic for me, and while I love to make sure as many people who want to read it can find it, at the end of the day I don’t like assigning people homework! I went through my whole works list and scratched my head and really tried to think of there was anything I wanted to plug, and I don’t think there is!
I guess I’ll post my lowest viewed, my Swanatello fic! @tangledinink ‘s AU I’m sure everyone’s familiar with lol. I knew that one would be lower when I posted it, if only because it has prior required reading (Swanatello). But I wrote it mainly because the AU was starting to reach a critical point and I REALLY wanted to write fanfiction of how I fantasized an ending might be, so I could go back and read it for comfort. I love Odette and the lore Kayson made for his AU, so I’ll plug this only because I think some people may have missed it!
3. Three works!! JUST THREE?? AUGH.
little kid with a big death wish
By @remedyturtles ! This made me leak tears the whole way through, so huge CW’s obviously. Not only was it one of the best fics I’ve ever read, but I got the privilege of seeing how talented Rem is behind the scenes a little and saw how they write and work and I really want to emulate them going forward. One of many all timer fics for me, for sure, I’d love to read any original fiction they put out.
The Whispering Forest and Other Tales
By @sroloc--elbisivni and @kithnkin ! I love love LOVE the feudal Japan fusion, the research, and the perfect blend of Usagi Yojimbo’s universe with what the Riseverse would have been like in this era. Even the little segues into what they’re wearing and eating is endlessly fascinating to me. Every single character is written to be the best and most interesting version of that character I could imagine. Theres Leosagi, there’s a PB&J murder mystery, there’s spookiness- AND Raphael Hamato gets wifed up!! WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT? I love people that write a fully fleshed story that could be a standalone universe, without losing ANY of the flavor or humor or narrative of the original source material.
And last is I’m Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now
@tangledinink has such a good grasp of family and writing, and realistic portrayals of what would HONESTLY HAPPEN if you discovered literally any aspect of the ROTTMNT narrative. Not even taking into ACCOUNT the turtle nonsense, how do you unpack a family that’s been devoted to destroying a magic monster and sacrificing themselves, or a Dad that fought in a death match battle royale for over a decade, or a RIVAL CLAN OF NINJA? All the characters are written SO WELL, and Kayson does a fantastic job of never letting the characters or story fall into cliche tropes. Their characters are always super detailed, to the point where I really feel it if they’re hungry or hurt or itchy. Which is a weird thing to point out but they make sure you really FEEL the situation. Also like, turtles in highschool? Body dysphoria? My CO-CEO of Hamato Yoshi???
What a great year!! I had so much fun in fandom this year and made a lot of friends.
#rottmnt#tmnt#ask#friendlyneighborhoodterrapin#there’s so many others i want to mention#fic#fic rec#my fic
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We're So Wonderfully Pretty(Love In The Lab)
It was the journalist's day off so he decided to spend it with reading and drinking coffee..or at least that's what he had planned for himself until he saw his husband look worn out and exhausted beyond belief. The mad doctor looked like he was either about to scream into the void, fist fight the old ones or do an odd mix of both so it was with no other option that Hob had decided to send a text in the private group-chat that he had made with Desire and the rest of the Endlesstein siblings (the name of it was 'Desire To The Rescue').
The text was a cry for help and Desire's immediate reply was 'Leave it to me, sweet Hobsie' with a little winky-face emoji at the end (if he could strangle them through a screen he would just for the nickname alone, including the emoji). The plan crafted by them was this : Bring Morpheus along for a nice relaxing spa date, completed with a facial mask to help with his pores because 'goodness knows he needs it, eeek' and a nice little manicure accompanied by music. After all of that was done, the rest would involve bringing the relaxed doctor over to Destiny's place for a pajama/movie get together with a special guest.
The difficult part however had yet to come : Hob had to convince his sweetheart to accept Desire's plan so it was agreed that Death would come with them to make him feel more comfortable. When told that his favorite sibling would be there Morpheus was delighted..until Desire's name was brought up "Absolutely not, Robert Gadling" He scowled as he gripped his mug of coffee, to him it felt like he was locked in a room were the only way out was to play chess with that one creature from Pan's Labyrinth "C'mon, love..You could use the rest and you don't have to worry about thing, I'm going to be there every step of the way. Besides you'd look so cute with a towel on your head" Hob cooed as he kissed his jaw, his stubble brushing against his cheek.
So that's how the angry doctor found himself in a car with his husband, his lovely sister and his insufferable sibling on the way to the spa carefully selected by the expert themself. The minute they all got out off the car, the beautiful dark skinned woman hugged her little brother for what felt like the tenth time for the day, almost twirling him off the ground "C'mon little brother, let's go inside!" Death beamed excitedly, her curly dark brown hair bouncing as she dragged Morpheus inside while Hob and Desire followed along, both chuckling. The hours went on in a blur and despite it all, the brooding goth found himself having fun : the place was quiet, there wasn't much stressful noise (instead there was music by The Cure, wish really made him happy) and he managed to get himself cute black gel polish for his nails..He even found himself laughing with Desire, like how they used to when they were kids. It was then that he realized just how much he had missed everyone of them, missed hearing their voice. Soon they went back in the car and head off to Destiny's place, who greeted them with his usual neutral expression but it was clear that despite it all, he was quite delighted to see them. The minute they put away their shoes, their ever so full of energy sister Delirium tackled them for a big hug "Morphiiiiieeee!!! Deeee!!! Des!!!" She exclaimed happily, skipping around them happily "Look at who just came!!!" Before any of them could say anything, the young woman with the colorful hair grabbed Morpheus by the hand and dragged him to the living room, were he was greeted by the sight of someone that he never thought he'd ever see again
"Hey brother, it's been a while" Destruction said with a smile, the same one that he always had seen in his memories. He chuckled as his elder brother hugged him tightly, almost crying "Missed you too, bud..missed you too" The red headed gentle giant patted the doctor's back, nodding to his sister Despair who had decided to show up "It's good to see you both again" She said, her lips almost smiling but not lifting up. Soon the pair broke the hug and the rest of the evening was spent with laughter, stories exchanged. As soon as everyone got in their pajamas, they all sat down with hot cocoa to watch Mary Poppins.
"Thank you, for all of this" Morpheus muttered as he snuggled against his lover, lifting his head up to gaze in those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes, so full of warmth and love. "Anytime, my love" He hummed happily as his forehead was kissed, making him sink deeper into his lover's chest. The siblings were all reunited, and this time nothing could ever tear them apart
#dreamling#the sandman#dream of the endless#hob gadling#journalist! hob x mad doctor! dream au#the sandman fanfiction#dream x hob#MorpheusLittleSheep#have some sibling sweetness#n o i did not almost cry while writing the hug part nu huh#love in the lab au
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╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮
Mizi & Sua
╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
{Round 1}
In round 1, it looks like Mizi and Sua had a plan where they would sing a duet to get the same score so both of them would survive. Sua realized that this would not work out, and tried to smile for Sua, to reassure her one last time, to tell her to move on and live without her.
When Mizi talks about humanity's past beliefs of God, we're shown that Mizi brings out a happier side in Sua, and allows her to be herself and have fun. While Mizi brings out Sua's personality, Sua inspires Mizi to sing.
"But if belief in god is human...if all I can do as a human is to believe...My God, My Universe," We can assume that Mizi is saying that to her, Sua is her god/idol. She probably never understood humanity's religious past until she met Sua, and realized why anyone would worship someone.
Their duet is also Sua reciprocating, and due to her feelings for Mizi, allows herself to die so her love can live on.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
{MIZISUA}
MIZISUA begins with Sua staring ahead with dead eyes, cold and lifeless like a doll. An alien hand aggressively grabs her head, pushing her to keep moving. We can assume based on that, that the aliens who were taking care of Sua did not see her as more than a doll, something pretty and entertaining to play with. They depart quickly, leaving Sua with nothing to play with or use to entertain herself on the journey to wherever she is going, probably to be trained for Alien stage.
While it seems every action Sua takes is controlled, Mizi seems much more free. She moves on her own, and makes decisions herself. Mizi's caretakers instead stay back to talk with her for a while, sending her off with many gifts and toys, even if it seems they are poorer than Sua, who is wearing an expensive looking dress. Mizi even gets homesick on their departure, crying before she catches sight of Sua.
Mizi's eyes are full of light, while Sua's are still cold and lifeless. The container surrounding them even looks like a glass display case to keep dolls.
At first, it seems like only Mizi is interested in interacting. Sua barely moves her head, likely not used to making her own decisions and not following orders. But Mizi is mesmerized by how beautiful Sua is, the fact that there may be someone who understands how she feels.
When the little bell tune (?) version of My Clematis starts playing, it shows how that was when their worlds collided, they became Mizi and Sua.
Mizi hasn't been handling Sua's death well. She was Mizi's everything, loving her was as easy as breathing. But suddenly her reason for singing, for living, was gone. Even though she was saved by the rebellion, Mizi has a lot of healing left to do.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
{All-In}
All-In shows that the rebellion has offered a good place for Mizi to heal, and re-learn to have fun. Ahe cuts her hair, gets a new wardrobe, and even starts taking part in the rebellion herself. Her and Hyuna also seem to get along well, and act as partners in some missions.
It seems like Hyuna is trying to show Mizi that Sua wanted her to live because she loved her, and feeling guilty for living isnnot what she would have wanted. Sua made the choice for Mizi to live, and dying would be wasting her sacrifice. While in the beginning, Mizi seemed awkward around the other humans in the rebellion she seems much more comfortable and familiar with them by the end.
I still think Mizi is not completely over Sua's death, but she's healing very well. Hyuna looks like she's having a very positive influence on Mizi.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
#alien stage#alien stage mizi#alien stage sua#vivinos#this is just me rambling#yapping#just yappin#professional yapper
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Hi, I’d like to order a 32 please: A kiss while someone watches 😙
Coming right up! How about 2500 words of heart trouble that leads up to a heart-racing finish with a LOT of someones watching? Chicago retirement universe, football, sappy soft old men. This is unedited and scrappy, so please forgive glaring errors and halfway correct medical nonsense - I used to work in a coumadin clinic and with a cardiologist so I have some (probably outdated and definitely sketchy at this point) knowledge and that's about where we sit here. Forgive me for errors, I tried to remember things without trying to dive too far into research just to get them to kiss. We're in the CM universe, this is probably still closer to accurate than most of the show was. LOL (I'll put this on AO3 tomorrow. I have to go clean my house and get ready for a football game filled weekend of my own now.)
Warning ⚠️: heart problems & procedures, mention of death/implied abusive household (hotch's father)
(Send me a kiss (or LOTS of them) and I'll write you some hotchgan!)
**
Hotch hadn’t been to work in months. Summer vacation provided a clever cover for his ailing health, he thought. Usually he would pick up a summer course or two, just to keep busy, but it wasn’t required and this year he didn’t even consider it. His heart had begun to act funny sometime around spring break – nothing he hadn’t experienced before. Since Foyet, he’d had random periods of erratic heartbeats. Too fast, sometimes alarmingly so, but always over quickly. A few scary minutes accompanied by a seasick feeling and then back to normal. He would think about it for an hour after, sitting and waiting for the next one, for the Big One.
His father, riddled with cancer though he were, died of a heart attack right there in front of his eyes. One minute he was sitting on the couch talking, complaining about how dry his sandwich was (his mother made it without mayo, just meat and bread, because his body couldn’t tolerate the fat anymore) and then...everything stopped. His eyes went wide, his jaw went slack and he was gone. His heart just stopped, at least that’s the way Hotch remembered it. It was possible it didn’t go quite that way, he was young enough and filled with enough teenage vitriol that if he compared notes with his mother, it might look completely different. He didn’t care to find out, though. The idea that his father’s ticker just ceased to function one minute had always brought him some kind of strange comfort, scared as he was of it happening to him too. Like no matter how terrible a person he was, his clock had run out. His time was up. (Sean asked if his heart exploded, later, after the funeral. The image became ingrained in him, even now as an adult – a heart attack meant that your heart exploded gore in your chest, meat and blood everywhere. In relation to most people he hated the thought, but in relation to his father...well it seemed a fitting end.)
It came and went over the years, sometimes for days at a time, but his doctors assured him that it wasn’t anything to worry about. There were medications and treatments if it became persistent, if it didn’t reset on its own. It always did. He would worry his time was up, and then his heart would say no, not yet. You get another day, another week, another year. Just making sure you remember I’m here and I’m in charge.
But he was older now, and just before spring break as he taught a class on Criminal Law to his to his grad students, he felt his heart begin hammering in his chest faster than it ever had before. He put his hand on his chest and swallowed hard, that had always worked before somehow (maybe only by coincidence) but it only served to make him feel faint. Stubbornly, he pressed on and turning toward the white board, he looked up, squinted to read the words he’d written and grabbed for the red marker he intended to use.
The next thing he knew he was waking up on the floor with a sea of concerned faces staring down at him.
Most people could go a whole lifetime without collapsing in the middle of a presentation, yet he’d done it twice now. Where was the justice in that? The only silver lining was that this time he happened to wake back up before he was in an ambulance with an oxygen mask obscuring his face. (Just barely. The EMTs arrived just a few minutes later and he was alert enough to insist on standing with their help and walking to the ambulance rather than ride on the stretcher through the hallway of his university.)
This time, it didn’t reset on its own, not for hours.
This time Derek was called out of his classes, leaving his baseball team to the assistant coach so he could rush over and sit with Hotch while they attempted to get his heart back into a normal sinus rhythm. Even then, it was precarious. They didn’t expect it to last, not with the onslaught of concerning symptoms that brought him here in the first place. He went home with a pile of new prescriptions to try and treat it medically, all of which failed spectacularly in everything except making him feel like garbage. His least favorite was the re-introduction of blood thinners into his life. The last time he’d taken them was the months after Foyet when they feared that he was at risk of stroke due to the severity and location of his injuries, and the lasting effects those same injuries had on George Foyet himself. Hotch had argued that Foyet had stabbed himself more times, that he’d practiced, that nine was a lot less than what Foyet wore but he had taken the blood thinners dutifully then and he did now too. He suffered through weekly appointments to check his INR, make sure that everything was looking like it should, and because he had Jack and Hank and Derek looking at him like that...wondering if he was going to have a stroke...he never missed or rescheduled a single appointment even if it meant throwing his entire day into disarray. He limped himself along to the end of the year on sheer determination, refusal to cut and run before his students were finished with the courses they’d all begun together. He’d seen them this far, and if his last couple of lectures were given while he leaned heavily on the podium (or sat at his desk on one particularly bad afternoon) then so be it. They always forgave him.
As soon as school was out, he scheduled himself in for an ablation – a procedure to try and go at it from the inside. They assured him that he might feel bad for a while after while he healed, but it was likely to be the ticket. The way to get him back to feeling like himself. The way to get him off of the blood thinners.
The whole time he just felt tired. Not necessarily sick, just unable to do much of anything. His normally active lifestyle had become difficult and sometimes impossible. He and Derek would ride bikes on the weekends or run in the morning and he tried to maintain it, his doctors told him it was in his best interest to be as active as he could be, but some days were just too hard and he couldn’t keep up. No one in his family made him feel bad about it, he did that plenty on his own.
He was miserable, watching summer slip by without getting to do much more than lie in a lounge chair in the backyard and soak up whatever sun Chicago provided him with. He missed out on their usual big summer trips to wherever Savannah was working, he’d said goodbye to Derek and Hank and Jack as they flew to southern Mexico to spend two weeks with her at the ocean. He wasn’t up for the flight and knew they’d all just spend the whole time worrying about him if he went at all. He was better off at home, spending afternoons playing cards with Anthony and Fran while Cindi was at work or going to movies with Desiree and Sarah. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t enjoy himself, he just had to stay close to home because when the exhaustion hit him it hit hard.
Once he had the procedure, things would be better. He was certain. At least after the healing period which would probably make him seem worse, and for the most part, he was right. He’d still decided not to work for a while, to take the first semester of the year off. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the time built up. He probably could have worked, but he didn’t need to and he wasn’t in the habit of killing himself for his job anymore. Things were already looking up a few weeks after the procedure. His energy was slowly returning along with his appetite and his desire to get out and be part of the world. The ever present fear that he would collapse again in public started to slip back into the recesses of his mind. He wasn’t feeling good, necessarily, but he was feeling better. There was hope that he was on the upswing finally.
Occasionally he overdid it and there were setbacks, but he was being good. Taking his medication on time every day, not missing appointments, things his younger self would have deemed impossible. A luxury he didn’t have. Well, now he had it in abundance. He’d spent the day before in the backyard, getting it ready for winter while he had the energy to do it. Derek had started the job but he had no love for these tasks and would avoid them as long as he could – Hotch wanted to do it, he wanted to push his hands into the cold soil and prepare it to sleep. But being outside all day had come with an evening of exhaustion like he hadn’t had in weeks, and the next morning he could barely pull himself out of bed. His body was scolding him again. “Rest today,” Derek said, kissing him on the top of the head. “Please. For the love of everything holy, rest.”
“Yes sir.”
He did. He didn’t exactly stay in bed all day but he did take it easy. He was motivated to take it easy, he had a reason. And when Derek came out of the bedroom and saw Hotch standing near the door dressed in the highschool’s colors, bundled up with Derek’s beat up old ball cap on, he couldn’t really understand it. Not after the way he looked that morning. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Hotch asked, checking the time. Derek frowned.
“It looks like you think you’re coming to the game. BOYS HURRY UP!” The last part was shouted as Derek turned back toward the hallway, a hallmark of dad-mode. Being able to carry on two simultaneous conversations, in different pitches and intensity, without skipping a beat. Jack shouted something back and something crashed against the floor, but Derek had already turned back to Hotch.
“I am coming to your game.”
“Like hell you are. You’ve been sick all day.”
“If I can sit at home then I can sit in the stands at a football game. It’s the state championship, Derek. You guys worked your tails off to get here, I’ve hardly seen you in months. How long has it been since your school has won?”
“Thirty years. We won when I was a senior.”
“Thirty years and I’m going to miss it because I’m tired?”
“Aaron…”
“Don’t Aaron me. I’m coming to watch you coach your team to a championship.”
“DAD!” Jack called, rushing down the hallway with Hank dangling upside down from his arms giggling. He was wearing his football jersey, minus the pads, and a pair of jeans that looked about two sizes smaller than Hotch would have preferred but he supposed that was the style these days. “You’re coming?!”
“Yes, I’m coming.”
“DADDY COMES!” Hank shouted, wiggling almost to the point of Jack dropping him.
“See? It’s settled.”
Derek gave him an unconvinced, almost exasperated look but he didn’t have the time to argue, he just took the whistle that Hotch extended to him with a smile and ushered them all out to the car in the cold October evening. They were playing on the Northwestern field, and some part of Hotch was a little worried – he’d taken the semester off to recover, to try anyway, and hadn’t seen his colleagues in months. He hoped they wouldn’t pay him too much attention.
The game moved fast – the crunch of shoulder pads, the shouting of gruff coaches and screaming of fans, the bright lights catching the freezing rain as it fell to the field and whipped around in the wind. The announcer called out name after name, and he watched Jack on the sidelines in his uniform cheering his friends on, holding a towel and wiping off game balls for the referees, helping keep the team hydrated. He was hoping to make Varsity next year, but his entire Junior Varsity team was there to cheer on the big guys and Jack was working a little extra hard to make sure his contribution was noticed. He couldn’t get onto Varsity by slacking, not with his dad coaching. He had to work twice as hard. It looked to Hotch, as he squinted at the full university stadium, that the whole city of Chicago had turned out to watch these boys from the south side bring home the title.
And when it came down to a field goal, when the whole stadium held its breath and watched that ball soar through the uprights, and when Derek was jumping around like a mad man amid shoulder pads and helmets and shouting crying teenagers, Hotch stood and cheered just as loud as anyone. His heart beat faster, thumped intensely in his chest, but it felt normal. The good fast. The kind that reminded him that he was alive and his body was built for a lot more than he gave it credit for sometimes. That he might be tired tomorrow but he would never get tonight back.
Being alive sometimes meant being uncomfortable, he realized as Derek bounded up the metal stairs taking two and three at a time, as he launched himself through the bleachers until he reached Hotch at his comfortable perch and practically threw himself at the man. “WE DID IT! WE DID IT! THEY DID IT!” He was beside himself with excitement, the pride of knowing what his kids had achieved, the memory of achieving it once himself so long ago he thought he’d forgotten but it felt the same now as it did then. It made his skin prickle, shock waves that made his bones jump, his head screaming for joy. The stadium had erupted in so much noise, but Hotch even with his bad hearing managed to hear him loud and clear, and when Derek wrapped him up and kissed him hard right there he didn’t put up a fight. He found his arms sliding around Derek’s waist, pinning them both in place, and the air sucked from his lungs, the beat in his heart all but stopping now. The stadium got quiet around them, the sound sucked into a vacuum, and then slowly a new sound erupted, a different kind of cheer, led by the football players on the field hooting and hollering. Hotch peeked one eye open to see the two of them kissing on the big screen right above the scoreboard, right above the score proclaiming their victory. He smiled into the kiss and closed his eyes again as fireworks began, and he let himself believe just for a moment that those fireworks were for them.
Being alive never felt so good. “Congratulations,” he whispered against Derek’s lips. “I love you.”
“Hot damn! I love you too baby! WE WON!”
#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#hotchgan#criminal minds#jack hotchner#hank morgan#chicago times universe
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After years and years in the roleplay community, I'll be frank:
My female muses are not just here for shipping, anymore than my male muses are. Several of the muses I write here, I will not, in fact, ship at all.
[ On that topic: Raphael is one who is completely exclusive to my friend on discord and @hopeteased because they are old friends and we have plotted extensively. I have no problems with unrequited and Raphael will absolutely be the Most Charming to get what he wants, but that isn't romance from any muses who are not those two specific takes on Haarlep.
For that matter, chances are, if we're not friends or at least chatting a fair amount, none of my muses will be shippable, because what makes me invest in a ship is really digging into the characters with the other writer, seeing how they met, what their interactions might be, how knowing each other and caring for each other affects them. I like to explore the character development side of things and get an idea of them before I ever fully commit to a ship. What's more, I want to be comfortable talking with the other writer before running a ship with them because, ideally, you won't want to invest in something like that with someone you either can't get along with or who isn't as invested in the thing as you are. ]
Furthermore, though, I also have a certain aversion to writing with anyone who won't take the time or interest to write with any except my male muses, because I'm well over a decade into the roleplay fandom in tumblr, and I've seen this game too much not to notice it, directed at me and at others.
This isn't a callout of anyone. This was just on my mind and so this is a blanket statement that I want to put out here, because I am old and I am tired and I'm here to write and have fun. Not to have the old writing anxiety creep back up about Well, maybe I don't write them as well as I think, and what if they're Mary Sues and that's the problem?
If this seems blunt, my apologies. I'm usually very chill, but I get unapologetically invested in every single one of my muses. I love them to death. I could give whole lectures on pretty much every single one of them about their backstories, their quirks, their motivations, etc.
I say that to say this:
I try my hardest to show interest in every muse that I know someone has—whether that's likes on headcanon posts if I can't figure out a way for our muses to interact or because I'm a bit slow to approach because anxiety, or if it's by starting threads and sending memes—because I do find all of them interesting and I love all the effort and the thought and the passion and the love that goes into each and every one of the muses I follow.
As a result, on the flipside, if a writer gives equal time or at least interest to more than just my male muses, I am far more likely to plot and to write with them, because then I feel like they care about all of my muses, too, rather than feeling like my male muses are being used and the female ones ignored. It's not really a good feeling on either side of that equation when it's any other way.
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Luke's POV x F! Reader - Part 2
Warning: Dark Content!
Including but not limited to references to prostitution, child neglect and abuse, war and death, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, suicidal ideation, and historically accurate ages for relations. The dark content is almost entirely drawn from/same as Luke's route.
Themes: protection, hurt and comfort, mutual healing, learning to trust, letting yourself feel, and eventually giving into love. Everything is written from Luke's POV.
Part 1
Still sleepin’ eh? Must be tired from all she's been through these last few days. Guess I'll work on the chemise ‘til she wakes up…
Laying the fresh bread aside and spreading the newly bought fabric across the table, you begin patterning out a simple shift — front, back, two sleeves and two gussets — all from a single length of linen. A trifle given that you've been sewing your own garments since you were a child.
As you begin to absentmindedly stitch the bodice together, your thoughts drift back to last night. By the time you had managed to stem her tears there were only a few hours left until daybreak. Too riled up to fall asleep and too little time to bother forcing it with medicine, you instead sat by the crackling logs and contemplated what you'd gotten yourself into.
I already saw men from the brothel skulkin’ ‘round the neighbourhood this mornin’, just waitin’ for her to come out alone. I could scare ‘em off easy enough, but if I let her go back out there now, her old man’ll probably just sell her again. That's if the bastard found her first. When his moneylender hears she's been freed, no doubt he'll be after her too.
Yet you know you can't keep her here long. The second you complete your mission you'll finally be free from this empty shell of a body.
But there ain't nowhere she could go right now that could guarantee her safety except a nunnery, but those institutions are no better than the tyrannical nobles and royals we're forced to obey. The only difference is they make you swear a life of poverty along with unquestionin’ obedience. I didn't free her from prostitution just to send her to a religious prison. There's gotta be somethin’ else…
An hour or more passes while you're lost in thought until the gentle rustle of sheets draws your eyes from the seam between your fingers to the huddle of blankets she sits curled up under.
“Mornin’ sleepyhead,” you coax gently, noting the fear lingering in her gaze and posture. “Y’ hungry?”
She nods once, cautious and timid.
“Lemme just finish this up so y’ve somethin’ decent to wear and I'll fix breakfast.”
While you stitch the gussets into the sleeves her eyes trail cautiously around the unfamiliar room. From the fireplace in the corner and the cauldron hung there to the dresser behind her and the single item that sits atop it.
Her gaze lingers on the scruffy purple teddy bear, threadbare and patched, but she says nothing. To your relief, neither does she attempt to touch it. By the time you've finished up one arm, her attention has waned, now shifted to her feet. Again, she doesn't dare speak; she simply stares down at the socks hiding numerous bandages.
“Here y’ are,” you tell her in a hushed tone trying not to startle her from her daze. “I won't look while y’ change. I'll be over there cookin' breakfast, eh?”
A frantic nod is her only reply.
You busy yourself throwing leftover bits of smoked ham, cheese, milk, and eggs into the ceramic pot before placing it over the coals of last night's fire. With only one spoon and one fork you'll have to wait for the custard to thicken enough to use either utensil.
“Thank you… Luke,” you just barely hear a strained whisper over the fire.
As you turn around you see her wince when her feet touch the floor.
“Oh. Stay there a sec’.”
Shoving the table towards the bed you arrange it in front of her so she need not stand. Most of the cuts seemed shallow last night, but you'll have to watch for infection when you redress them. Heaven only knows what's on the floor of that brothel.
“Better?”
She nods, the look she wears not a smile by any stretch of the imagination, but not nearly as fearful as when she woke up.
“The chemise fit y’ alright?” you ask over your shoulder as you move back to the hearth.
“Yes. I'm sorry.”
“Hm? What for?”
“You had to go to so much trouble because of me. I'm not good for much other than cooking and looking after livestock… but I promise I'll try to pay you back somehow…”
Grabbing your only bowl, you fill it with your favourite pick-me-up. “I told y’, y’ don't have to earn y’r keep here, Honey,” you frown and hand her the drink.
“But…”
“Listen. I'm not a good guy, but that doesn't mean I'm some creep who wants to use y’ either. Nobody belongs in a place like that, but not many can be helped once they're in the thick of it… There was no reason to let y’ get dragged into that living hell…”
Not when y're so young and innocent like she was… Not when it could’ve been prevented…
With a reluctant nod she takes a cautious sip of your offering and the tension in her brow melts with the warmth.
“Good?” you query with satisfaction.
“Yes. What is it?”
“Warm milk and wild honey. It's good for calming the nerves. I've never met a problem honey can't fix.”
While you set the custard on the table and slice the bread thick to use in place of plates, she asks nervously, “So… what are you going to do with me if you don't actually want me…”
“Dunno yet. Y’ can't stay here forever, but if y’ try to start workin’ somewhere in town sometime soon I'm sure y'll end up back where y’ were last night. What with y’r old man owin’ as much as he does he'll no doubt haul y’ off and sell y’ again.”
By the time you look up from the cutting board you're too late to stop the tears that have pooled in her empty eyes from rolling down her cheeks. Hurriedly taking a seat on the bed next to her, you grab the milk from her shakey hands before it ends up on the floor and pull her into your arms right after.
You don't know what it's like to be sold by your own family, but the mere thought reminds you too much of growing up despised, losing the only thing you held dear in an instant, being hauled off half dead to an orphanage in another country, and learning quickly that you would only be as valued as you proved useful.
“Hey, hey. It's okay. Y're safe here. Y're never goin’ back there. It must’ve been terrifyin’, I know. I know,” you coo and stroke her back.
Beneath the thin chemise you can feel the welts where she was beaten and you remember the rope burn around her wrists.
“Y've been through a lot. It's okay to cry, but y’ don't have to be scared.”
From under your chin she slurs with a sob, “But where will I go? I'll never be safe! I promise I'll work hard! Please don't kick me out!”
“I'm not gonna throw y’ out, Honey. Look at me.”
Prying her up by the chin you make her meet your stern gaze.
“I'm not gonna do nothin’ that would put y’ back in danger. I'm gonna protect y’ ‘cause that's my responsibility after bringing y’ here last night. I chose this. Y’ don't have to trust me, and y're free to leave whenever y’ want. But ‘til we find y’ a new life where y’ can be safe I'm not abandonin’ y’, okay?”
Bottom lip trembling she looks anything but convinced, but in her riled up state nobody would hear reason. Who knows when the last time she ate was. So you keep one arm around her and reach for the spoon.
“C’mon. Let's get some breakfast into y’ ‘fore it gets cold,” you coax and bring a bite to her mouth.
When she meekly accepts the offer you're quick to reward her with praise. “Good girl. Think y’ can eat by y’rself?”
Though she takes the spoon, you stay at her side and keep her in your embrace until you've both polished off your bread and eggs. With a warm meal inside her she certainly looks less gaunt. When you rise to clear the table you hear her ask timidly if she could wash the dishes.
“Maybe when y’r feet’ve healed and y’ can stand without pain, hm?”
Wrapping your patchwork quilt around her once more and curling her knees into her chest again she watches you tidy up.
“What's all that?” she queries so quietly you almost can't hear her over the rustle of the fabric you're busy spreading out over the floor.
“Wool for y’r dress,” you answer over your shoulder as you begin patterning out the pieces with chalk.
“Hope y’ don't mind the colour. I got yellow ‘cause I figured the bright colour might cheer y’ up.”
“I've… never had new clothes…”
“It won't be nothin’ fancy, but it'll at least be comfortable.”
“Thank… you…”
She sits in silence after that, looking on while you cut out the pieces from the yards of fabric. Only when you start backstitching the bodice together does she speak again.
“How did you learn to sew so well?”
“When y’ live on y’r own y’ learn how to do everythin’. I make all my own clothes. This little guy too,” you answer and nudge the tiny bear tied to your holster.
You catch a glimmer of light in her eyes for the first time as she stares at the creature dangling from your chest.
“Did you make the one over there too?” she asks and looks at the worn out teddy sitting on your dresser.
“Yeah,” you answer quickly and immediately change course. “Can y’ sew?”
“Um… Sort of... I've never patterned, but I can patch.”
“Can y’ baste the skirt?”
She nods hesitantly and you pass her the length of vibrant colour.
The morning ebbs into noon quietly, words only exchanged as needed, yet with every passing hour you notice she seems more at ease than the last. Her features soften as her focus shifts from internal anxieties to keeping her stitches even.
“There's still some fabric left. You want a bonnet to match or somethin’?” you ask when you finish attaching the skirt to the bodice.
“Actually… could I have a little bear?” she replies, her knees once again up in her chest.
“You don't want somethin’ to match the dress?”
Apprehensively balling herself up tighter, like you might lash out at her for wanting something else, she mumbles, “Um... A little bear would be much nicer to hold at night.”
Comfort and protection…
That was the story Leyla told you of the bear who helped the lost girl in the woods…
That was all she ever asked for… and you couldn't even manage that in the end…
“Sure, I'll make it after lunch?” you offer, a mix of emotions hazing over your eyes.
A sheepish smile from behind her knees is her single reply.
Part 3
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen luke#ikemen prince luke randolph#luke randolph#ikemen prince luke#ikepri luke#fanfiction#ikepri fanfiction#ikemen prince fanfiction#ikepri fanfic
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So you mentioned fuckboi Anthony and Kate in Tuscany for holiday and getting kind of kicked out for being too handsy… can we see a snippet of this????
Ahh fuckboi Anthony getting a bit carried away because he's never seen his girl in a bikini before, and he's struggling
Anthony Bridgerton, was going to die young. He was absolutely fucking certain of it. At the ripe age of 21, he was going to die. Cause of death: Kate Sharma.
They'd been so warm and soft and comfortable with their legs intertwined in bed, his lips ghosting over her neck, the taste of her skin on his tongue when he'd said it.
"Come away with me this weekend."
Kate had let out a satisfied little hum, tilting him chin up to meet his lips properly, her tongue tangling with his. "Are you going to Kent?"
His heart had been pounding in his chest at the feel of her skin against his. "I had somewhere a little further afield in mind."
She'd groaned as his fingers had skated up her legs, "How far afield?"
He'd wrinkled his nose grinning at her with his glasses sliding down his nose as her breath caught in her chest with the soft motions of his fingers, "Why don't you stop thinking about it, and just tell me if your passport is in date?"
"It's-oh god- Yes!"
"I'm holding you to that yes, Babe."
Kate had stood in front of him two days later, her head tilting curiously "Were you serious about going away this weekend?"
His head had shot up, glasses nearly flying off his face. "Yeah-Yes- absolutely-Yes! I actually already booked us tickets aaaaaand I think you're going to like it."
And she'd seemed to realise there wasn't much good fighting it when she'd sighed, kissing the top of his head before she'd relaxed against him. "Just tell me what to pack."
"Oh something absolutely fucking tiny, surely."
And wasn't he paying for that now.
The sun was beating down on them, laying on a single sun bed by the pool in a resort just outside Florence, Kate's bare legs intertwined with his, her chin resting on his shoulder, breath fanning against his neck as she read her book.
A lazy afternoon. He'd been the one to suggest it after spending all day touring around the city, Kate on his back, her giggle in his ear setting his heart skittering happily when he said David looks like a bit of a pussy actually. I think I'm hotter for sure. Desperately, stupidly, in love with her.
But the minute Kate had emerged from the bathroom, Anthony had regretted it.
He'd been laying in the bed, his swim shorts already on, sunglasses on, towel slung over his shoulder and the second he'd seen her, his mouth had dropped open.
Kate had miles of skin of display, her legs stretching on forever, the green fabric stretched tight against her, breasts straining a little against it.
"Where the fuck-?! Kate you can't wear that!"
She'd looked at him a little perplexed, sliding her sunglasses on. "It's a swimsuit, babe, I absolutely can wear it."
"It's indecent, actually and um-" He'd stammered, heat already rising in his cheeks but Kate had turned towards him with that fucking smirk on her face that would send him straight to hell as she tossed her towel at him.
"Well, you told me to wear something tiny, looks like you got your wish."
And he hadn't been able to breathe since she'd looked around at the one vacant chair and nuzzled against his neck Looks like we're sharing babe.
Her fingers were trailing lightly over his chest hair absentmindedly, humming contentedly, her lips brushing his cheek.
"I really love you." Her voice was so gentle, stealing something from his chest. Trying not to think about the ring he'd already settled on that would settle on her finger forever when they graduated.
Anthony couldn't help himself, his hand tilting her chin up so their lips met softly, slanting lazily over one another as heat rose in his stomach.
Kate let out a soft sigh, her eyes shining at him as she pulled back, completely unaware of Anthony's heart pounding in his chest.
"I love you too."
She chased his lips with hers, lips clashing again a little more hotly this time, her fingers slipping into his hair, pulling him closer than they already were, her tongue tangling with his.
Anthony let out a sharp groan, his entire body on fire as his hands settled on her hips, tugging her to straddle him, completely unaware of her book sliding to the ground as his hands tangled in her hair.
Kate's hips started a slow grind against him, setting him on fire from the inside out, his heart pounding in his ears, his swim shorts starting to tighten and-
"Lord Bridgerton?"
A nervous voice nearby interrupted them, Anthony's attention snapping away from Kate with a slightly irritated.
"Yes?!"
A mortified looking hotel employee was staring down at them, taking a shuddering breath. "Sir, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to... keep your activities... family friendly, or remove yourself from the pool area. This is a family friendly environment."
Kate let out a nervous giggle, her face hidden in the crook of Anthony's neck.
Anthony let his eyes wander around the pool deck to several scandalised looking parents before he let out a sigh, "Won't be a problem! Sorry about us!"
And with that, he hauled Kate over his shoulder and sprinted back to their room, giggling the entire way.
#if the shoe fits walk in it#kathony#anthony x kate#kate sharma#kate sheffield#anthony bridgerton#molly’s asks and answers
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A quick and dirty RP policy guide
Bold all that apply to you and your blog. Italics if you’re on the fence about something. Either reblog or repost. Feel free to add anything I may have missed in the appropriate category, or recategorize something that is in the wrong place!
My blog is ______
Open to all
Semi-selective
Selective
Moderately Selective
Highly selective
Exclusive ( ^ idc for any of these labels for myself tbh whats below is more important🏃♂️ )
Only going to RP with mutuals
Mostly going to RP with mutuals ( if you have a sideblog that's fine! )
Indie
Affiliated with a group
Spoilers free (it's a 30 year old series nobody pays attn to anymore though??? dark's been dead for over 10 slutty slutty years 😭 laksjlkdjg)
Spoilers tagged
Spoilers mostly tagged
I will RP with ______
Any fandom
Most fandoms (there are a few i'm uncomfortable with!)
Only fandoms I know
Mostly fandoms I know
Only people in my fandom (aslkdjf all five of them?? 🥺)
OCs
OCs with no fandom ties
OCs who are related to/know my character in their backstory
Only one version of any particular character
People who have the same muse as me
People who do not have a rules page
Multimuse blogs
People in RP groups
Indie RPers
When RPing, I like to use _______
Paragraphs
Shorter forms of text (i get very bored of single one-liner exchanges very fast!)
*Action* (dark will text like this. errybody watch out for teh glompz XD sorry)
Icons
Gifs
Gif icons
Formatted text
Whatever my partner is using
My own style regardless of my partner’s reply ( i'll usually match paragraph structure + text size of my partner but very rarely i can't be bothered alsdkjlg. )
I will ship with _______
No one
Anyone
Chemistry
Select ships
OCs
Others of my own muse (this goes for dark x daisuke, not just dai x dai (or dark+dark) too. i don't do any of that romantically ever ❌)
Crossovers with characters from different fandoms
Only one version of a particular character
One person in my main verse
Multiship, all ships independent of each other & main ship
One main/canon ship within my main verse
My blog WILL contain ______ in its content
Fluff
Light fluff
Angst
Gore
Violence
Smut
Blood
Torture
Shipping
Death
Dark humor
Cheating
Assault
I will follow ______ back
Everyone
Only some people
Most people
Only people in my fandom
Every RP blog
Only people I actively wish to RP with
People who do not post a lot of OOC (i love ppl who can't stop talking ooc abt their muses actually, but i don't like too much random irrelevant content, esp if it's untagged)
People whose posts I am comfortable with on my dashboard
To RP with me, you should _______
Follow back
Answer an open
Message me OOC (i'm very very spotty and slow/negligent with ooc messages due to my bad eye health/short free time timeframes so it helps to skip small talk if you message me specifically through ims or discord!)
Message me IC (i try to at least get my inbox completely free and clean asap, so asks are always your best bet if u want the fastest response to something!)
Make a starter (as long as we're mutuals, random starters are completely ok! tag me in whatever whenever. )
Answer my starter
Send in a meme
Like a starter call (i don't usually reblog memes or make starter calls! i do try to like others' calls though and sometimes send in memes or random unprompted asks! i often respond IC-ly a lot to replies on my posts! if you reply to a reply i make on your post IC-ly, (or otherwise tbh) i will probably turn it into a proper interaction thread!)
Plot with me
Other:
I practice reblog karma with memes
I expect reblog karma with memes
I expect my rules/about to be read
I always read the rules/about before following/interacting
If you follow me, I would like my triggers tagged
I expect all smut to be beneath a read-more
I am multi-muse (i kind of am, kind of am not, but i don't reaaaally consider myself one due to the bizarre way dark and daisuke.... well. work. 'i don't get it' appearances and superficials aside they're genuinely the same character, have the same motivations, conflicts and inner feelings about themselves, bonding with one is bonding with the other, relationships or dynamics can potentially end up repeating if you treat them separately as a duo instead of a whole single unit, which is ehhh to me. if that makes sense!)
I do not wish for my OOC posts to be reblogged
I do not wish for my threads to be reblogged by those not involved
I expect post length effort to be matched
I expect icons/gifs to be used in a reply if I have used them
I don’t expect post length to be matched, but I will try to match your own.
I am patient when waiting for replies and expect the same courtesy. (you can also just drop stuff whenever forever! i dont mind at all. alternatively if there's something you want to see moved along, feel free to tell me you're dying to continue a certain thread/scenario and i'll push it to the top of my priorities✨)
#tagmeme.#GOOD MORNING. HAPPY VDAY EVERYBODY.#ill be around for my inbox as soon uhhh as i can#which might not be soon at all dkjgk#but like every day i will Try
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I Love You So
Pairing: Diluc x reader
A/n: just a heads up, I haven't watched the show where the phrases comes from but I plan to watch it soon!
Inspired by a TikTok brainrot of Diluc ✨
✧ this a Fu Hua theme blog✧
You and Diluc spent everyday with each other, even when you two grew up and joined the knights, you always made time for each other. That was until the death of his father, he drifted away and you completely understand it but the way he kept pushing everyone way despite them trying to help him grief Crepus.
"Diluc!" You shout after him, "please, don't go!" He continues to walk away, Adelinde and the rest of the staff watch without a word after all, they too were grieving for Crepus. You grab ahold of his coat, the rain soaking both of you yet you didn't care. "Don't leave, we still need you here."
You feel yourself being pushed onto the ground, the dress you wore being stained with mud yet you continued to look at Diluc but all he did was stare down at you before walking away, the horse carriage waiting for him.
Your quiet cries was the only sound heard as the carriage left and the arms of comfort that wrapped around you as you watched it leave, taking Diluc.
Adelinde hugs you close to her, her face filled with sadness as she hears your sobs and your weak calls for Diluc to come back.
Time after that, you made sure to handle the winery work with the help of the staff and still kept your position in the knights but it was slowly exhausting. A couple years went by after Diluc's leave, you mature into a responsible person and had the title of the 3rd strongest knight by the citizens of Mondstadt.
"Y/n," you look up from your papers that needed to be signed to see Adelinde standing at the doorway, "you look more tired as the days go on, I'm worried for your health. Take a break, will you?" She plead but you shook your head.
"I can't, not yet. Jean needs these papers by tomorrow and I have to go in patrol in a few hours."
The head of the maids frowns at this but she knew talking it out with you would end with no results so she did what she should have done a long time ago.
Write a letter to Diluc.
Another year goes by, "Y/n!" You turn around to see Jean walking towards you as you were standing in of the statue of the seven in windrise. "You requested for some time off?"
You smile at her but it was a tired one, the bags under your eyes was enough for anyone to see how overworked you were. She sighs but smiles, "take off the time you need, you deserve it."
Your time off was scheduled at the end of the month and you already made up your mind where you wanted to spend that time. You had remember an old friend that left for Inazuma to deliver some Dandelion wine to his dad a couple years ago.
That same night you went to the tavern and saw your small group of friends already drinking, Kaeya, Rosaria, Venti and Eula. You all spent the night drinking away and the next day, you work up with a headache and the days continued on.
You didn't know Diluc was coming back soon since you went on with your usual patrol for days.
The maids have already packed your things and all you waited for was the end of the month. "Master Y/n! We're going to miss you a lot! Please come back soon!"
You smile at them, patting their heads as you turn to Adelinde to give her a hug, "thank you for being here with me, sorry for leaving as well." She just smiles, "you deserve it, it's time you grieve properly, enjoy your vacation and don't forget to send letters or else we'll be worried about you."
You laugh at this, before nodding your head, "of course, you guys are my family."
The sound of a carriage was heard outside with the sound of heavy footsteps.
"Oh! That must be my ride to Liyue Harbor, I better get ready to go." The maids grabbed you things and you open the door to find someone you didn't think you'll see after all this time.
"Diluc?" You breath out in surprise and disbelief, there he was, standing in front of you out of breathe. Your eyes widen as you take a step back.
Adelinde smiles at this, "girls, put Y/n things outside in the mean while." You look at her before letting out a small 'oof' as Diluc brought you into a hug.
He doesn't say anything but you see how messy his hair is and how bruised up his skin was and you frown. Yet, you don't say anything and return the hug. He was a lot taller than the last time you saw him so you only reached up to his shoulders.
"I got Adelinde's letter, she said you were leaving Mondstadt." He mutter loud enough for you to hear, everyone had left to give you two some privacy. You nod your head, "yes, I'll be leaving for my vacation, it seems like I overworked myself too hard."
He pulls back and studies your face, his gloved hands hold your face gently
"I'll be leaving for Inazuma." You tell him and his brows furrow at this. "You're leaving just when I come back to you?" You frown.
"Diluc, I waited long enough for you. I'm tired, I really am. You made your decision to leave all those years ago despite how much I said not to leave, you still did."
He lets go of your face and takes a step back, "Stay."
"No, I need a break from this." You tell him.
"Then I'll go with you-"
You stop him there, now you felt angry at the fact that he was willing to leave the winery to the staff once again. "No, your place is here. The winey almost didn't make it since you decided to leave it to us, now you want to come with me and put it at this again? This is what your father left behind and you're throwing it away for someone like me."
"Anywhere with you is fine."
You grit your teeth, "don't be stubborn, I will go to Inazuma and you will stay here, taking care of Dawn Winery."
"No matter how far you go, I will continue to pursue you because I love you."
Your eyes widen as you felt your face heat up, "don't go saying those things so normally, I already decided to leave today. Jean already approved of my vacation for some time now, so don't stop me, please." You tell him, caressing his face before spotting Adelinde outside, she was gesturing to the carriage that arrived for you.
Letting him go, you take a step away to head outside but Diluc grabs ahold of your wrist. You glance back to see the determination on his face.
"Fine, I'll stay but I'll wait for you to come back." You smile at this and he lets you go.
"Thank you." He smiles before he walks you to the carriage and he grabs ahold of your hands, pressing a gently kiss on them.
Your face flushes red at his next words, "you are the bane of all of my existence and the object of all my desire, I mean it."
You press your forehead against his, "Save those words when I come back." He chuckles, "whatever you say, you always deny my feelings for you."
He waves at you before you're out of his eye sight. He turns around and he's bombarded with hugs from the staff, "Master Diluc! You came back, we missed you!"
He sighs at this but he smiles, he would wait forever for you to come back to him.
2 years later
The sound of heels echoed throughout the streets of Mondstadt and it stops in front of Angel Share. Opening the door to the tavern, a familiar voice is heard to greet them. "Welcome, what can I get you to drink?"
The figure smiles, "grape juice." Diluc stops wiping the glass cup and turns around, almost dropping it.
A/n: ehhhh, I didn't like this either but it's alright.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin x reader#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc x y/n#diluc x you#diluc imagines
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What I find common in people who are angry and salty that people felt bitter at how Keiwa was abandoned by his supposed allies is they use the "not a friend", "trying to protect his sister", and "wants to be a Rider" arguments and then deflect the criticisms people have over both character onto Keiwa so their faves could remain clean and be on a pedestal as one the paragons of goodness.
They cite how Keiwa believing Daichi as being Keiwa being a bad friend to both Ace and Neon because of who the sparrow was allied to, completely forgetting the notion of "believing in good faith".
Their analyses of Keiwa are done in bad faith that they connect things in bad faith completely discarding the notion of doing things in good faith.
Keiwa believed Daichi because his default was believing the information presented in good faith. Keiwa learns this lesson later and cast some doubt into Daichi's information about the ID cores later on.
It helps that the information he believed that he assumed was presented in good faith was backed up by the person he trusts the most at the time.
Regardless of whether Daichi was allied with Beroba, as he believed that the information was done in good faith.
People also forget that Keiwa was also investigating things on his own. He analysed and the information he got from Kekera and the information he overheard from the conversation between Niram and Ace which was then hammered in by the information Daichi revealed. So no, Keiwa did his due diligence and investigated things on his own.
An absurd argument to make is to turn things around and make everything be about Neon. Making the argument that it should be Keiwa comforting Neon because she lost a friend.
Keiwa proved himself to be a good friend when he tended to Neon and gave her the boost buckle when she was bitten by a zombie.
If Keiwa wasn't locked behind bars, he would have rushed to Neon after that reveal. And he tried to do that, making sure nothing changed between them despite the information that was revealed after he was freed but Neon rebuffed his approach, but no one's focusing on that.
Another absurd argument to make is to blame Keiwa for Beroba's actions. Yes he's supposed to be "allies" with her, but you're just focused on that instead of focusing on the full picture.
How about checking the context and the surroundings behind each action before making such bold claims? How do you think things would have progressed if he rebuked the two poweful nonRiders? But we're only talking about Keiwa being a very bad friend right?
How about you teach Ace how to communicate why he thinks his mother is innocent? It was up to Ace to prove his mother's innocence when evidence of the matter was that she was complicit in the death of his entire family?
Jury: We find the defendant guilty of multiple counts of murder and manslaughter, beyond reasonable doubt.
Defendant: But your honor! i'm innocent.
Defendant's son: My mom is innocent! My mom is innocent! Why won't you listen to me?! My mom is innocent!
Defendant's son: My mom is innocent!
Or how about the fact that Keiwa did not even know that Tsumuri was a goddess candidate? Did we just forget about that little tidbit of information?
Fact of the matter is that you all chose to make bad faith conclusions to the character you hate. This fake 'I do not hate him" is really annoying, let's not forget that you laughed at an anon who was simply sending scenarios at a random blog where Keiwa won a game because Ace somehow should win any and all games.
You laughed at an anon because he was a fan of Keiwa's and telling them they're so bad at analysis for merely sending a scenario where Keiwa wins in a game.
You and your ilk are as disingenuous as anyone could get.
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Is it ok if you could do Jack O Bonnie x reader comfort vore? Like the reader feels cold and lonely on Halloween night, so Jack O Bonnie noms the reader the warm them up.
Im mainly only comfortable writing size difference vore so I took the liberty of making reader a borrower that lives in the corn maze. Hope you like it~
Jack 0 Bonnie x Reader (Safe Vore warning)
You'd been wandering around the corn maze all night, the cold of the halloween season biting at your small frame. You'd wandered out of the nearby farmhouse in search of food. If you'd realized it would lead to you getting utterly lost you wouldn't have chanced it. Now here you are on the virge of freezing to death with no way forward. Or so you thought.
A certain flaming purple bunny had been watching you all night. He spotted you when you first entered the maze, in awe of your small size and curious about you. He decided to leave you be though, knowing full well what you'd think of him. The humans see him as this horrible monster and seeing as you seem human too, he didn't exactly have high hopes for you. Then something catches his eye. You sit down against one of the cut out picture attractions, shaking all over and clearly freezing your little butt off. The bunny stops in his tracks, fighting himself on whether to help you or not. After all he has a thought on how to but he knows how much that would scare you.
After thinking about it for what feels like ages the flaming bunny walks up to you, prompting you to jump up, ready to run and hide. Before you can even consider where to go however, the flaming bunny has you in his grasp. You scream, causing him to flinch in response.
"Calm down. Im just trying to help you." He explains, earning a terrified look from the little borrower in his grasp. After a moment your worst nightmare comes true. The bunny lifts you to his maw, revealing a dark pit of a throat ahead of you. Your heart begins to race and you desperately grab onto his hand as you're lowered in. His jaws snap closed behind you, causing you to flinch and the reality of your situation to hit you. You're going to die here.
Bonnie can feel your fear and completely understands it but he hopes you can forgive him. After all he simply wants to keep you from freezing. After a few moments he swallows, sending you down a dark tube like structure and into a huge open space.....his stomach. You immediately begin to panic, running over to the sides and beating on the walls. The bunny flinces, feeling your pounding. Hes not sure if talking to you will help but its something.
"Please stop......I'm not going to hurt you. You were cold and I figured I could warm you up. I can't hold you to me because of the fire but everything is warm in there." He explains, earning more beating from the terrified borrower within. "Its okay! Nothings going to happen to you! I'm a robot I can't digest things." He says, causing you to stop and think. He is right after all. Theres not really any way for him to do that and theres literally nothing in there with you. "You we're freezing and I just wanted to help." You back away from the walls, looking around as they begin to light up.
"Th-Thank you."
#my writing#g/t community#g/t fluff#g/t#size difference#g/t writing#fnaf#giant/tiny#fnaf au#fnaf fandom#jack o bonnie#fnaf vr#fnaf Halloween
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AN ALLIANCE FORMS
in which the cat teams up with the fruits
chapter : five
character : tangerine
fandom : bullet train
song : tangerine , led zepplin
date : 22nd june 2023
pushing the anxiety down to its smallest ingot, black cat stepped into carriage three. yes, the chances of them shooting her head off were utterly through the roof, for she would be admitting that she had been the one who'd stolen their case, and then promptly lost it. so she would completely understand any harsh feelings or rash decisions not entirely in her favour.
when she set eyes on them, they were messing about with the third man, the one she assumed was the russian. he sat limply in his chair, brown hood pulled over his head.
in his hands lemon held a set of plastic pink glasses and pressed them onto the man's face, who made no effort to remove them. not suspicious at all.
and, when she approached the four-seater, tangerine was leaned over the table, hands on the russian's jaw, and lemon was carefully laying his head against the window.
they both sat back in their seats, exhaling deeply as if they'd just completed a strenuous task, which putting momonga glasses on someone didn't appear to be – but, hey, how should we know?
their eyes trailed from one another over to black cat.
"you know, it's rude to stare," tangerine stated, eyes narrowing as he looked the woman up and down. dark curls pulled back into a ponytail, two ringlets sitting comfortably at the front to frame her face. an oversized black blazer, buttoned together to cover her white button-up and black tie, and short black skirt.
black cat let out a small huff at his wandering eyes. "could say the same to you, too."
eyebrows furrowed, she gestured for tangerine to move up, and once he did so she sat down beside him.
"who the fuck are you?" lemon asked, his voice low as he gazed at black cat in confusion.
black cat tucked one of her ringlets out of her face. "call me estela," was the first thing she said as she tried to think of the words. "uh... it seems like we're all in deep shit." she looked between lemon and tangerine.
she brought her hands onto the table, still quite unsure how to behave, and what to say. "i'll just be honest. i took your briefcase." she looked between the men once again with an awkward smile, a combination of guilt and uncertainty.
"you what!?" tangerine almost roared, rising in his seat to probably wring her throat, but lemon leaned across the table to push him back down into place.
with tangerine seething all the while beside her, lemon looked seriously over at black cat – or estela, as he now knew her. he leaned forward in his seat, eyebrows upturning in worry. "why would you risk telling us? what's happened?"
estela's eyebrows furrowed and her lips tugged into a straight line. "i don't exactly know where it is." she shrugged again. "but there's a decoy, which this guy with big glasses has, but he probably thinks it's the real one. but that doesn't tell us where the real one is."
when she glanced over at tangerine, he was practically sizzling with rage like a strip of bacon in a frying pan.
"so, what do you want us to do?" lemon asked again, concern in his voice. it was clear to estela who was the kinder fruit; she'd always liked lemons much more than oranges. you know, there was sherbet lemons – she liked those – and lemon meringue pie – she made a mean lemon meringue pie.
"you see, i know we're on differing sides in this scenario – you being hired by the white death, and me hired by some guy who isn't the white death – but i think we should help each other."
"help each other?" tangerine rang in. "are you fuckin' dumb, help each other? you're fuckin' tapped if you think—"
"shut it!" lemon groaned, sending his brother a sharp kick in his shin, to which tangerine reacted much like a toddler not taught how to behave yet; by kicking back and grumbling to himself with his arms crossed. the fruit opposite estela rolled his eyes but continued. "how do you know about us working for the white death, anyway?"
estela chuckled, a genuine smile breaking through the tension. "i was sitting right behind you guys, and you're not exactly quiet, mr thomas the tank engine."
at this small comment, lemon cracked a smile. "oh, you 'eard all that, yeah? i've still yet to decide what you are. but, trust, i will; i've got my stickers on me and i'll give you yours once i figure you out."
"enough thomas, alright?" tangerine whined, running a hand over his face. he turned in his seat to look at estela. "can you get to the fuckin' point already? so far, you've taken our case and lost it, and now you come over 'ere when we've got just enough on our fuckin' plate, to tell us that you've lost our god damn case, and then you ask to fucking help us?"
both estela and lemon stared over at tangerine, jaws slack in awe at his outburst. "uh..."
black cat swallowed her awe and nodded. "basically yeah."
"well, fan-fucking-tastic," the moustached man grumbled as he swivelled back in his chair to face the momonga-faced russian.
a silence occupied the trio for a moment, before estela raised a hand to point at the russian. "what– what happened to him?" she asked, filling in the awkward gap.
"no fuckin' clue," lemon replied with a tight-lipped sigh. "we went away from our seats for, what, two minutes, and when we came back he had all this blood shit running from his eyes. what a piss-take. we're all gonna lose our arms."
he leaned back in his chair, bringing his great hands to cover his face as he let out an even greater groan, earning a couple annoyed glances from some passengers.
"no, but–" estela grimaced, crossing one of her legs over the other as she tried to think of a plan. "if we work together, you know, like join forces and shit, then we can find this briefcase. when we find it, it just depends on who keeps it, you know?"
the woman looked between the two fruits expectantly, who shared their own look, as if communicating telepathically.
then tangerine looked over at her. "alright then, love, we'll make a deal with you," he began, tone much softer than before, but one that still left estela's ears ringing. "we work together to find this briefcase that rightfully belongs to us, and when we find it we get it back, but we give you a little bit of the credit."
estela let out a scoff before the man could even finish his sentence. "well, no," she replied almost immediately. "i need to get that case back to my contractor."
"and we need to get that case back to the white death."
just so much as hearing his name caused estela's mouth to run dry, and she swallowed thickly.
sensing the tension in the air, lemon decided he would try to dissolve it. "who did you say has the decoy again? lad with thick glasses, yeah?"
black cat nodded in response.
"well, if we think about it, we've got two enemies here. one is you, miss estela," lemon pointed a finger in her direction, "and the other is mister big glasses. mister big glasses, however, has at least one of the cases, and if we have one case, that's good enough, right?"
"what are you tryna imply 'ere, lemon?" tangerine asked, raising an eyebrow as he crosses his arms.
lemon shrugged, glancing out the window as if to get his plan straight. "if we find this specky git, we get the case, even if it's a fake, and take it to kyoto." he tugged his lips into a straight line. he knew how dumb he sounded.
"you wanna give the white death – and i mean the white fucking death – the fake briefcase?" tangerine repeated, slamming a hand against the table. he craned his head over to estela. "what's in your cunting decoy briefcase, anyway?"
"well..." estela mumbled, bringing a manicured finger to rub at the aching of her temple, where she'd been pressed into the glass. "pictures of cats... as you do."
the man opposite her puffed his cheeks out in a stifled laugh, bringing a hand up to hide his giggle – and when i tell you he giggled at the image of the white death opening his briefcase to find a bunch of cat pictures.
"and why the fuck is that, then?" tangerine replied, scrunching his nose at the thought.
"have you heard of the black cat?"
the two brothers shared a glance and nodded. "well, of course we fucking have," tangerine confirmed for both of them. "she was the one who pulled off that hit on that peter piper kid, init?"
estela nodded, and stared at the two expectantly. she glanced between them, waiting for them to connect the dots and fill in the blanks.
after a few long beats of silence, the lightbulb finally went off behind lemon's eyes. "oh! are you..?" he asked, gesturing to her, to which estela nodded in return. "so there's your fuckin' answer, tangerine."
"what, you're..?" tangerine started, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted as he looked at the woman beside him. "nah. no fuckin' way with that."
"why the fuck would i be lying?" estela grunted, shaking her head.
"she's got a point, why would she lie?" lemon joined in, cocking his head towards his brother.
tangerine scoffed, rolling his eyes. "alright. why tell us, then?"
"because you fucking asked," the woman responded, a slightly chuckle in her tone.
"right..." the male trailed off. he sniffed and rubbed his nose with the back of hid index finger as he thought of what to say. "right, so, say we go along with this plan. what do we do if we find the real case?"
lemon shrugged, his eyes landing on the dead russian beside him, a reminder of how important the money in the case was if he wanted to keep his arms.
"i suppose we just..." lemon shrugged again, letting out a sigh. "fight it out." the man let out a chuckle, which dissipated at the lack of shared reaction.
another round of silence filled the trio, and the dead russian continued to stay silent.
over the speakers, a muffled japanese voice announced their prompt arrival to the next station, shin-yokohama.
"alright, we need to think of something quick," lemon said, leaning forward in his seat, hands placed on the table before him.
both tangerine and black cat followed suit, leaning forward to prepare for serious game plan discussion.
black cat placed a finger on the table, tapping it against the surface to emphasise every point as she spoke. "what i think we should do is, when we reach station, wait outside the doors and look for anybody with the case, which will be big black glasses guy."
the two fruits looked over at each other from the girl and shared a nod.
with this mutual, unspoken agreement, tangerine moved out from his seat next to black cat, and paused in the aisle to look down at his two (one of them temporary) partners.
"we gotta make sure he doesn't step a foot off this train," he spoke with authority, pointing his finger between the two. "you see the case, deal with whoever has it."
"alright, how do we do that?" lemon asked, voice low. "do we talk to em, or, like, talk to em?"
for a moment, the stood man didn't respond, only glaring down at lemon with his icy blue eyes. that stare alone was enough to give lemon his answer. but when he did speak, it was filled with sarcasm.
"i don't know, why don't you tell them about the story about how gordon met percy and how percy's now bleeding from his fucking eye sockets!"
one of the veins in his forehead popped as he seethed the last few words, jaw and fists clenching in unison.
without another word, the man in the blue suit halved his glare to send it to both seated assassins and strutted off down the aisle.
lemon's dark eyes fell from where they followed tangerine out of the carriage, and onto estela opposite him. "he means kill him."
"yeah, i gathered that, thanks."
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