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enchantedflameandflower · 15 days

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Gavin (Karl Urban) x reader! Part 5

Gavin gets wet and has to (teasingly) take his flannel and his jeans off, then he wants to get to know ALL of you better, plus tent make-out time.

(I know this isn’t rain wetness but pretend it’s rain wetness)

Summary: When you started working at the lumber mill, you couldn't help but instantly fall in lust with the strong, quiet younger brother. But you're determined to keep it professional, until one work trip suddenly changes it all.

co-written with CheshireCatSmile

@kus-babygirl @shirley-girly @jynx15 @everchar-of-the-shire @scraftsku35

@vavafaure1994 @deathlesun @sickforbillybutcher @butchers-girl @hippo2211

@bohemianblasphemy

karl urban masterlist

direct link to part 1

part 4

Part 5

You can’t remember a time when you’ve ever felt more taken care of and you find yourself missing him weirdly even though he just left and it will only be a few minutes. You change quickly from your jeans into your sweats then climb into your sleeping bag but stay sitting up waiting for him to come back.

You can hear the rain drip-dripping on the roof of the small tent and worry that he's getting soaked as he works. After a few minutes he's crawling into the tent, his damp hair tousled, plastered to his forehead and curling a bit at his nape. "It got heavier a little sooner than I anticipated. The weather pattern is a little off for the season." He shrugs out of his damp jacket. "Shoulda used my rain poncho."

You take his jacket from him and lay it off to the side where it’s out of the way and can hopefully dry a little. “It’s my fault for falling asleep. We sat by the fire too long. Are you going to be comfortable enough?” You chew on your lip.

"I'll be fine, sweetheart. I've weathered worse,” he grins at you. “Besides I have your company...that in itself is a warm pleasure. I need to get out of this wet shirt, though...I hope you don't mind."

You swallow and shake your head. “No, no of course not. I was hoping you would say you would take it off. I mean I was hoping you had something to change into, so your shirt…can dry…” Damn you know you’re blushing again. You’re usually not like this at all.

He looks at you, his dark eyes dancing with mischief as he unbuttons his damp flannel shirt, slowly revealing smooth skin and springy dark chest hair and muscles... Just then the heavens open up to release a downpour that drums steadily on the tent's slanted roof. He looks up toward the top of the tent checking the seam then looks back at you. "We may be stuck here a little while if this doesn't slack off by morning."

You mean to look away and busy yourself with your phone or something but the mischief in his dark eyes just captivates you and you end up just watching him as he unbuttons his shirt. “Well I have to admit I wouldn’t mind a long morning. With you.”

"Hmmmm...that sounds intriguing,” he smiles. He pulls a thermal shirt out and slides it over his head. It fits fairly snuggly over his muscled chest then he tugs his boots off and sets them aside. He pushes his jeans off quickly so he’s just in his knit boxers and slips into his sleeping bag, but not before you get a good long look at his muscled thighs. Propping himself on his elbow with his head leaning on his hand he lets his eyes travel over you then says, "So tell me about yourself. I'd like to get to know you better."

You smile a little then you lay down as well and try to snuggle down in the sleeping bag to get warm. It is a very good sleeping bag and there’s even a nice sleeping pad. “What kinds of things do you want to know?” you murmur. He looks so damn good in his thermal and you keep thinking of the image of him shimmying out of his jeans.

"Mmm....do you have family close by? Or did you travel from far away to come up here to the forest? You seem to like hiking and being outdoors so probably not a city girl...."

You smile. “I actually did grow up in a city but I hated it. We moved out of the city when I was older. My father left when I was young and he eventually just stopped calling. I don’t know where he is. My mom passed away when I was in college. I moved here last year to…get away from that bad relationship. Start over. Or try to.”

His eyes soften and warm as he listens to you. "I had no idea you were completely alone...I mean without family. I guess I used to take mine for granted a lot of the time. Then I almost lost them through my own hard-headedness. You must be really strong deep down to come through all that and be doing so well.” He reaches out and caresses your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter closed for a moment at the touch of his hand and you can’t help wishing for more. “I don’t know if I’m strong,” you murmur. “You know I overheard Jack once…he said he didn’t listen to you that night. That he didn’t believe you and he let you down. That if he had supported you the next day wouldn’t have happened. Maybe it wasn’t completely on you…”

"I don't know. I guess I'm always looking for some way to get ahead and sometimes I should stop and think about something longer before jumping in with both feet.... Maybe I just need someone smart and grounded to rein me in. I mean...without the whole big brother-little brother vibe." He looks at you thoughtfully and moves his hand to stroke your hair.

“Usually having someone that supports you unconditionally in your life can be quite a help,” you smile. “Mmmm Gavin, that feels really good…” you wish somehow you could lean into his touch more, feel more, soak up more of his warmth.

He scoots just a little closer and keeps stroking your hair slowly. "Y'know...your hair is beautiful. I couldn't help it. It feels like warm silk. I kept wondering if it was as soft as it looked. It's softer than I imagined.”

You laugh a little softly. Then you finally give in, reaching your hand out to touch his chest, just barely grazing your fingertips over his shirt. “I don’t think anyone has been this nice to me in years…”

"Oh sweetheart," he says then hesitates... You can see emotions swirling in the depths of his dark eyes. Then it's as though something shifts and settles in him. He reaches out his strong hands and gently pulls you closer, partway out of your sleeping bag and into his chest.

“Gavin,” you murmur breathlessly. You press and burrow into his chest and it feels warm and broad and safe, and your heart is beating just a little faster in that really good way. “You feel so good,” you whisper before you realize what your saying.

He tightens his hold on you. "And you feel perfect in my arms...like you were meant to be here." You can hear his steady heartbeat as he pulls you in closer.

He studies you a moment and then...very very slowly he tilts your face up to him and leans down to brush a tentative kiss over your lips.

His lips are warm and dry and he’s so gentle as he kisses you. You feel like a new warmth comes to life inside of you and a soft little noise escapes you as you slip your hands over his broad shoulders.

He gently coaxes until you let him in and his tongue slides over yours and tangles in a slow dance…possessive but caring.

You whimper softly as you open fully to him. How can this feel so good so quickly… you’ve never felt anything like it. His tongue plays against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck. A soft shiver goes through your whole body.

Gavin pulls you closer to him, tighter against him, willing his heat into you. He continues the surprisingly sensuous kiss, his large hand finding its way under your shirt to smooth over the skin of your lower back. His hands are warm and gentle but the callouses there are a delicious contrast, a sensuous texture that makes you shiver again. He finally lets you up to breath and you try to catch your breath.

“You’re so warm…” you murmur. “If only I could sleep here I wouldn’t worry about getting cold tonight.”

He smiles softly. "I have an idea. Let's zip the sleeping bags together to make a double. We can stay nice and toasty that way. I have a feeling the temperature out here is going to be a lot colder than we first figured.”

“I’m already getting cold so I think you’re right. But are you sure you wouldn’t mind…just sleeping tonight?” There’s still a part of you that’s nervous even though his touch has you imagining all sort of wanton things that you want very much.

"No, sweetheart that's fine with me. I think there could be something special here if we give it a chance. We don’t have to rush it. And that's unusual for me,” his voice goes a little lower, just a little husky. “I just want to hold you and know you're safe in my arms tonight."

~*~*~*~ Next up: waking up in his big strong arms against his big strong chest is an experience, and if there’s one man it’s impossible to go slow with it’s this one

Part 6

karl urban masterlist

#gavin magary #gavin magary x you #gavin magary x reader #karl urban #karl urban fanfiction #karl urban brainrot go brrr #karl urban fanfic #karl urban is the man of my fucking dreams

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stupidfuckingwindow · 10 months

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highkey wondering if you’d do any kind of smut where ken is actually a cowboy? 🤠

Campfire // Ken

Notes: Thanks, RDR2, for giving me slight help w the setting. I read too much Arthur Morgan porn. I loved writing this, thank you for requesting it.

Content/warnings: Technically public. Ken jerks off in the woods and has no idea you're watching.

Word count: 833

The morning of December 18th, 1899 was particularly freezing. Snow packed on top of roofs, so tightly pressed together that it became hard; almost so like ice. But the nights and mornings got harder and worse in the north- Way up in the mountains and stuck in some dead little abandoned mining town near a frozen-over lake. Run up here by the law for a robbery turned out to be a set-up was something you had regretted deeply, cold long having seeped past your skin, and powdery snow falling through small cracks in your wooden shelter. The move had brought chaos- Separated you from your gang until you were lost.

The only solace brought to you is the man who'd stumbled upon your camp. Neatly combed blond hair and a pretty, shaved face was Ken- Some little outlaw from some ways east, wanted alive for a few meager thefts and no gang of his own (or, so he'd told you, anyway). You'd seen a couple posters warning folk, his bounty a good 30ish dollars across one to two states. Ken is suspiciously too sweet and naive for an outlaw- Taking everything you told him as gospel. You force your worry down your throat and run with his all too trusting attitude, noting the gun on his hip. But if push comes to shove, you suppose you and Ken will shoot each other and bleed out in the cold if you have to.

He insisted on following you back to your gang in the following days, when the law's frenzy was beginning to die down and before bounty hunters would start prowling the roads in search of their next payload.

Ken is surprisingly quiet, as his horse trails a little ways back from yours. His curious nature draws his attention to every noise, focus darting all over the place between what few creatures are out and about. He doesn't ask you anything about all the new little things- Ken lets his eyes do all the prying and studying. He watches as the trees change along the way, forests going from the cold-resistant pines to leafless willows and oaks. He gets especially excited when the two of you pass any wild horses, and only then does he ramble on about all the pretty colors and different kinds of species. About how his favorite kinds of horse are the fast race horse species, so he can travel better and see everything.

Over the course of three days, you and Ken are forced to camp together. While you make the fire, Ken sets up the tent with practiced ease, like he'd done this a thousand times over. And he probably has, you think. The heavy storm clouds have you and he anxious, huddling in his small tent together with the heat of the campfire warming the both of you.

He gains confidence once the clouds roll past without rain, climbing out of the tent to better sit by the fire. He sticks a sliver of some big game animal's meat on the end of his knife, holding it close to the flames in order to cook it. Ken offers you a piece, and you take it. Still, despite his kindness, you're suspicious. Worried he might hurt you, and cautious he'll try if you sleep in the same tent as him. You don't say a word to Ken as you lay on your side, back facing him and revolver close by.

But your attention is caught and you're startled awake hours later, in the depths of midnight.

Ken's climbed out of his own sleeping bag, gone. Panic strikes you, seeing as his boots are gone from the tent entrance. Your worry is dampened only slightly by the sight of his horse still being here, but there are still worse dangers in these woods for him to just be alone. As you clamber out of the small sleeping space, you spot tracks in the dirt- Undeniably Ken's trail. The longer you follow his tracks, the more you hear it.

Groans that he probably thinks are quiet. Whines and moans that were probably supposed to be muted or muffled but aren't. And when you finally see him, he's lit by the soft golden glow of his lantern, eyes shut tightly and erection in hand. Ken's mouth hangs open, quietly panting. His strokes are slow and sweet- Methodical as his long fingers squeeze gently at his cock. Ken's bangs fall over his eyes as he hunches over himself. When his eyes do flutter open again, they're fixated on the way his hand moves.

His hips buck against his hand ever so often, palm curling further around his cock. His thumb rubs at the sensitive tip, swiping a bead of pre-cum from the slit to use it as lube. Again, he whines at the feeling. A shuttering breath leaves him, head falling back and hitting the tree he's propped himself up against.

You can't look him in the eye in the morning.

#ryan gosling #ryan gosling x reader #n.sfw.#ken #ken x reader #ken x reader smut #ken barbie #ken smut

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horseshoegirl · 8 months

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Set Me Alight - Part 4: One Way Or Another

📜Midge... Don't....Don't... Ugh, never mind. She's going to do it anyway.

I had to split the chapter again! I didn't want to overwhelm the word count, so the banner I posted before will be used for the next one! Which will be posted within the next few days!

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Verbal fights, bullying, description of injury (A bruised wrist), camping, and pranks.

#4.4k

Part 3 | Masterlist | Part 5

The first rays of sunlight shining through the canvas of your tent are what stir you awake the following morning.

It’s a struggle to open your eyes with the aftermath of how much you cried yourself to sleep last night. The skin under your eyes and your eyelids simply ache, and you want to sink yourself down into the ground, never to be seen nor heard from again.

However, each gentle breeze caressing the side of your tent and each chirp of a nearby bird is slowly coaxing you out of your sleep. It seems peaceful, serene even. Like all was right in the world.

Then the first sharp throb of your wrist pulsed up your arm, and you were dragged back to the harsh reality of what was this fucking mistake of a trip.

Right. The fall. Your wrist. The two she-devils.

Seresin.

You can’t help but cringe as you cradle your wrist to your chest, willing each aching pulse to fuck off and go away. There was no way you’d be able to paint today or tomorrow. Maybe even the rest of the week. The realization stung so sharply you wanted to cry - you'd miss out on all the prime spots, the best angles and outlooks, even the waterfall today, all because the fucking asshole decided to scream, “Look out, there’s a bear!”

If there were ever a time for you to swear at the universe for the cruel joke it was playing on you, taking away your only solace and leaving you with nothing but anger, frustration and one Jake Seresin to put up with, you'd find the tallest mountain in the park and scream, "Go to hell."

You opened your eyes to the thought, staring at the corner of the roof of your tent. While you might not be able to hold a paintbrush, there were other things you could do to pass the time.

Eagerly sitting up and sliding your legs out of your sleeping bag, you reached for your clothes and quickly got changed, hoping no one else was up. If you had any chance at getting back at Jake for your predicament, you couldn't be seen doing it.

It had to be a prank. Something classy and of the same calibre he started, but enough to drive home the fact two could play at this game. And that you wouldn't resort to his level by injuring him - not that you could.

To your surprise, when you finally opened your tent, hoping to take in the morning air, you were treated to the sight of the map in its clear plastic bag and the silver compass placed directly on top, sitting on the ground in front of you. You had forgotten them completely last night in your haste to escape the chaos and embarrassment, and for a moment, you stood there, wondering who had done such a thing.

It was a small act of kindness, one that quieted your anger towards Jake for a moment.

Your mind raced through every person who could have done such a thing - Nat with her concern from last night. Bob's quiet kindness, perhaps Grace or Cora, both of whom had shown moments of empathy and understanding. Even Maybe Mickey, or Javy or Rueben, to make up for their girlfriend's behaviour.

The thought that it might have been Jake briefly flickered through your mind, but you quickly dismissed it. He sought out every opportunity to tease, provoke, and hurl insults at you when he could, and you felt stupid for even entertaining such a thought.

With a mixture of curiosity and gratitude, you made a mental note to find out who was responsible and thank them for the kind gesture.

Lifting your head, you took in a deep breath, the crisp morning air filling your lungs and the earthy scent of the woods filling your nose. Light filtered through the trees, and their leaves seemed to rustle with the breeze. Along with the birds, you could have sworn you heard a squirrel or chipmunk, too.

Something had to be wrong. The campsite was too quiet.

Unlike yesterday, when Jake woke everyone up with his crazy-ass antics, everyone was still content to be tucked safely into their sleeping bags. You looked around, half expecting to see him lurking about somewhere or about to stir up trouble.

While his tent had been left open, he was nowhere to be found.

The metaphorical light bulb went off above your head with the realization you had your chance to set up and cause some shit without ruining it for anyone else.

The smile that crossed your face at that thought alone could have rivalled even that of the Jokers.

Approaching the firepit, the memory of last night still fresh in your mind, you noticed Jake had already taken down the food cooler from the nearby tree. It sat next to the little stone monument, waiting for Bradley or Nat to start handing out everyone's food packs.

You checked over your shoulder once, then twice to see if the coast was clear, before kneeling down and carefully flipping open the lid. You searched each one until you came across Jake's and your own, pulling them out and placing them side by side.

The little bottle of sugar Jake had brought with him for his coffee was at the top of the bag. You smirked in glee, knowing Jake would have no idea you messed with his bag, given its easy position. The man was so anal about things, his hair, his outfits, he'd notice if it had somehow fallen to the bottom of his bag.

Then, you found what you wanted out of yours.

Your container of salt.

It was the only thing you could think of right now. Fuck with his coffee, or at least something that he could put into his coffee. It was cheap. It was harmless. Probably even childish. But considering he actively went out of his way yesterday to prevent you from having yours, this was fair game.

Grabbing a spare container from your bag, you quickly unscrewed the lid, pouring Jake's sugar out into the safety of the container before reaching for the salt. You worked as fast as you could with your injured hand, grimacing as you tried to prevent any grains from spilling over as you refilled Jake's bottle.

After pouring his sugar into your own bottle, you quickly tidied up, making sure there was no evidence of your impromptu switch. You stood up, wondering what else you could do with the time you had or if something as simple as that would be enough, at least for today.

But the sight of Jake's tent, left wide and open, was another opportunity you had to take advantage of... Right?

It wasn't like Jake to leave his tent open. It either meant he intended to come back right away, or he forgot he had even left it open. You looked to the trailhead, then to the general direction of the area the group had chosen as 'the bathroom.' Jake still hadn't made his grand appearance.

"You shouldn't,' the angel on your shoulder screamed.

"Do it," the devil on the other murmured.

Your feet carried you forward, and you hesitantly approached his tent as if you were about to be arrested for murder. Resting at the entrance was his fishing bag, and you kneeled, undoing the zipper just enough to peer inside.

There was a tackle box full of hooks, lures, and other small items—a couple of bobbers and sinkers, snap connectors and an extra fish gripper. There was a knife and even a roll of fishing line; you gave into the urge to pull them out the second you saw them.

The lack of his fishing rod indicated he had definitely gone off and found a body of water or pond to go and attempt to catch something. It made you anxious, knowing you were working on borrowed time. Without really thinking, you unsheathed the knife from its case, letting out a painful yelp, only to spin out some of the wire and cut a sizeable length of it against the ground.

What for? You had no idea. But you had time to think about that later. The possibilities of what you could do with something like a piece of wire out here in the wilderness were endless.

Your heart rate spiked when you heard voices coming from one of the tents, and you quickly tried to put everything back where you found it. You shoved the wire into your back pocket and accidentally popped open the tackle box as you jammed the knife back inside.

Your hand screamed at you, already pushed to its max, as you scrambled to carefully pick up the fallen hooks from within Jake's bag, already knowing you probably missed a couple. One caught on your bandage, and you didn't bother removing it as you snapped the lid shut and zipped up his bag.

Racing back to your tent, the zipper of Bob and Grace's tent was being pulled up. You skidded to a stop and kneeled next to the map, swearing softly to yourself as you grabbed the stowe-away hook and shoved it into the front pocket of your pants.

You could only hope Bob thought you were getting up and emerging from your tent for the first time this morning.

Bob stepped out, having seen nothing of your hasty retreat back to your tent, and offered you a soft "good morning' accompanied by a smile.

"Morning, Bob," you greeted him with a smile of your own, trying to calm your breathing. "Do you know who did this? I want to thank them."

Bob looked down to where you were pointing and shook his head. "Sorry, Maeve. I didn't see who. It was there when Grace and I went to bed last night, though."

Not Bob. Or Grace. Hmm.

With nothing else better to do, you offered to help Bob start the campfire while Grace got ready. You arranged the kindling and small logs as Bob gathered some of the bigger ones Bradley had cut the day before. It was a few minutes before the two of you got a decent-sized setup, and in that time, Grace had joined you two, promising to get to the coffee first so you'd have a cup before venturing out for the day.

You always thought her name suited her - literally always a saving grace.

You held up one of the sticks as you were breaking up a few to add to the pile, twirling it as you inspected the top. "This would make for a good Marshmellow stick."

Bob dropped the log he'd picked up into the pit before settling himself down next to you. He reached out and took the stick from your hand, playing with the top of it like you would messing around with the sharp edge of a knife.

"This one?" Bob said, examining the stick closely. "Nah, it's too flimsy. It'd catch fire before you got that perfect char."

You quickly catch on to his meaning, and you gasped at him in horror. "Bobby, No.. that's just...a Marshmellow shouldn't be crunchy."

"I've always made them like that!" he exclaimed in protest.

"That is so wrong, so so wrong!" you cried out. Grace makes a gagging noise in agreement with you. "The burnt part is carcinogenic, Bob. Listen to Maeve," she tried to encourage him.

"You can always take the burnt stuff off," he pouts.

"That's not the point of a Marshmellow on a stick. You want them crispy, not fired to hell."

"Is that where you make yours?"

You turn your head towards him, shocked. Then, a bout of soft giggles racks your body as Bob starts to sport a grin. "Damn, you woke up snarky this morning."

"It's not my fault you two like eating fluffy clouds and chalk dust," he joked, knocking your shoulder playfully. You and Grace share a look and continue to giggle, shaking your heads.

It took a little bit for Bob and you to get the flames to catch. But eventually, after some poking, prodding and waving, the flames erupted and grew steadily, crackling happily.

You stood to high-five Bob, celebrating after your struggle. But just over Bob's shoulder, you see Jake walking down the path, fishing rod in hand, and it quiets you instantly. His gait was easy, and he appeared lost in his thoughts, watching each of the steps he took. He seemed tired, with bags under his eyes and his face weary.

You missed the way Grace and Bob shared a look at one another.

Once he reached the edge of the camp, Jake lifted his head, his eyes immediately meeting yours. You want to glance away, but you can't bring yourself to. There's a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you - curiosity, irritation, maybe something else you can't quite put your finger on.

Jake holds your gaze for all but two seconds before it's travelling down to the bandage on your wrist. He knits his brow, and a pained expression strikes his face. It's enough for you to instinctively tuck your arm behind your back and drop your chin to your chest in embarrassment.

Grace calls out that the coffee is ready, and you twist, reaching for the cup she's holding out to you. You grab it eagerly, offering a quiet 'thank you' and bringing it up to rest just before your nose, taking a deep breath.

The smell seems to calm you down but does nothing for the image of Jake's reaction to your wrist playing in your head.

Was that guilt you saw? Or lack of sleep? Did he lose sleep over it? Over what happened last night? He did try to call for you. But why? Why? The idea that Jake might actually feel remorse was unsettling, challenging even.

Despite yourself, you glanced back over your shoulder. Jake was already gone, off to greet Mickey good morning with a hug and slap on the back, and you felt ashamed for even having looked.

'No, it couldn't be,' you mused to yourself, 'Jake's not the type to feel guilty.'

You smiled into the rim of your coffee for a moment, thinking about what he might do or react when he tasted your salty surprise.

"What are you smiling about?"

You jumped as Mickey bumped your shoulder with his. "It's too quiet for the two of you this morning."

You shrugged, trying to suppress your grin. "Maybe he's feeling guilty for yesterday. I don't purposely start shit with him, Mickey. You know that."

Mickey didn't answer you. Rather, he reached for your hand, carefully lifting it up so he could inspect your wrist. "Can I take a look at it, Maeve? Please? I promise to be gentle."

You sighed. "I know, I did a shit job of wrapping it last night."

Mickey shook his head. "I only want to make sure there isn't any permanent damage."

You paused for a second before nodding. You let Mickey guide you over to his chair, allowing him to help you sit with a gentle hand on your elbow. He kneeled in front of you, placing your arm on your lap as he worked on undoing your bandage.

"How's the pain?" he asked as he started to unwrap it.

"It doesn't hurt as much as it did last night, though it's throbbing a bit."

"That's probably some swelling," he offered, not unkindly. Mickey made sure you kept your eyes on him as he unveiled the damage, hoping to provide you with some reassurance. You appreciated it, knowing you'd jump to conclusions before knowing how bad it truly was.

He had already unwrapped your arm when he lifted his head, about to ask you if you were ready to see the damage on your wrist, when his eyes tracked some movement behind you. The corner of his mouth wobbled, and he shook his head, immediately setting his back on to you. You went to look, hoping to change whatever caused him to frown when a quip from the other side of the campsite stopped you.

"Need someone to kiss your boo'-boos, Midge?"

Oh, that bitch!

Mickey stopped what he was doing in favour of placing a hand on your thigh, preventing you from leaping up out of your chair. You tense at the touch, and you are sure it's the only thing holding you back. But you wouldn't be you if you didn't offer some type of snarky reply in kind.

It was there, ready to be unleashed. That was until you heard Jake's voice boom from somewhere behind you, the man stepping forward as if he were on a mission.

"Oh, would you give it a fucking rest, Jessica? Unless you're a certified medic now," he points to Mickey, "I doubt your expertise extends to anything beyond Instagram filters and badly photoshopped pictures."

What. The. Fuck.

Your mouth drops. Your face flushes. And you can't help but stare up at Jake as he confronts them - On your behalf. There's even collective 'oohs' filling the camp, and Bradley's rapidly looking back and forth between you, Jake, and Jessica, wondering what the hell happened to warrant such a reaction.

It's the first time you've ever heard Jake speak to Jessica like that, let alone defend you. Are you not sure how you're supposed to feel about the response? Grateful? Happy? Appreciative? Angry he felt the need to defend you?

Why the hell did he defend you?

"She got hurt last night," he points out sharply. "So I don't understand what your point is in saying that. And honestly, it's just getting old and, frankly, pathetic."

Jessica's eyes widen and her face starts to turn red, her rounded cheeks almost looking like cherries. She jolted back, recoiling as if he had dealt her an invisible blow, and her gaze briefly darts to Rueben, then back to Jake.

Conflict is written all over her face.

"Come on, Jake, she didn't mean it like that?" Veronica counters, stepping forward to slide her arm under Jessica's in support.

And in a surprising turn of events, Jake starts to laugh. Mockingly.

To them.

"How does she mean it then?" he turns to Veronica, sarcasm laced into his tone. "What's the point? A Joke? Scarastic comment?"

Jake's face suddenly lights up, a look you are all too familiar with when going head-to-head against him. You cannot help but chant inside your head, Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

"Maybe throwing a peace sign up at the end of it as you do in your photos would have helped, but I can't say that's what I would have done when someone has been hurt."

You could swear your heart was beating out of your chest. This didn't make sense.

"Come on, Man, that's not right. Anyone who knows her should know she's not like that." It's Ruben, this time, standing up for his girlfriend, though you can detect a bit of nerves in his tone.

And Jake sneers. Sneers! "Some shakey moral high ground, if you ask me."

"Dude..."

Jake shakes his head, grabbing Rueben by the elbow and pulling him close. He whispers something into his ear, and Rueben's eyes widen. It makes you grip the armrest tighter, maybe in some mediocre attempt to assure yourself you didn't fall down a hole instead of your tent last night and wake up in an alternate dimension.

"It's just badly bruised. Nothing's broken, and the tendon is fine. I would try to keep it wrapped, though."

Mickey prodded at your bruise, and you hissed from the pain, immediately drawing your eyes away from the interaction, finally taking in the damage done to your wrist.

It's ugly, to say the least. It's somewhat ironic that you are already comparing it to smudges on a painter's palette rather than something real and painful marking your own body.

The centre of the bruise was a deep, angry purple, the colour rich and dark, indicating just exactly where you hit the ground. Surrounding it was a halo of different shades of blue, varying in intensity. Some looked like deep twilight, while others were lighter, reminiscent of faded denim. And there was an edge of yellow-green, giving the false impressing it was beginning to heal, though it was very much a fresh injury.

The sight only confirms what you thought this morning. There was no chance you'd be painting at any point while on this trip.

"I'm going to get Cora to wrap it again to relieve some of the swelling. She'd have our asses if we don't let her do it."

You shutter. "Don't I know it."

As Mickey left to find Cora, you tried to figure out what happened. While everyone else had finally woke up and was venturing around the camp, Jessica and Veronica were nowhere to be found. Neither was Rueben, for that matter. Jake, however, was extending his Yeti mug towards Grace with a grateful nod, who was going around filling cups of coffee after having watched the spectacle.

You knew what was coming next. Sitting on his chair was his food bag, and Jake kneeled next to it, placing the mug on the ground to rummage through it. To your surprise, the sight fills you with guilt, and you battle the urge to tell him what you did.

After all, he didn't need to call out Jessica for what she said. But the angel and devil on your shoulder are vying for your attention, and you don't know which one you should listen to.

Be the better person, Maeve. Tell him not to drink it.

Sit back and watch the show, Midge. He deserves it.

Your internal conflict of should or shouldn't is decided for you when Jake finally grabs onto the tiny bottle and dumps a little bit into his coffee. You scrunch your face as he closes the lid and lifts the Tumblr to his lips to take his first sip.

His reaction was immediate, sputtering out his coffee with the grace of an angry camel, and his mug fell to the ground with a loud clank. He stands, racing off towards the bush, coughing and gagging as if he were about to bring up whatever was in his stomach.

You wouldn't be surprised if he did.

But where you thought you'd be rolling in laughter and enjoying his little misery, you're wincing instead. Both elated he was getting a small ounce of karma and mad he had to be anything but kind this morning.

"Why is Jake gagging and throwing up his breakfast over in the bush?" Cora asked as she kneeled down in the same spot Mickey had been.

"Not too sure. Maybe he mistook the salt for sugar instead," you answered her, holding out your wrist for her to wrap.

Cora had already picked up your bandage from where Mickey had placed it in the cup holder when she regarded you for a moment.

She shook her head. "Midge, you didn't."

You eyed her as she started to wrap your arm. "You can't tell me he didn't deserve it after this?" you say, lifting your arm as she securely tightens your bandage around your thumb.

Cora bites her lip in concentration for a second, careful to mind your hand as she pulls the bandage tight, allowing for relief but mindful of how much it hurts. You let out a soft cry as she pulled the material over the most painful part of your wrist.

"I suppose it's a harmless prank," she remarked once the worst of it was over.

"Be glad it didn't do more."

Cora lifted her head, though she didn't stop wrapping your hand. "Did you do more?"

You shook your head. "I'm not saying anything."

And you didn't want to, even if you did or didn't. Jake was alarmingly kind this morning, and anything you said or did in addition to this would make you that bitch in all of this. Cora would be the last person on earth to judge you for pulling shit like this, but that didn't mean the rest of the group would.

It seems your point is nearly proven, too, when Nat pulls you aside in the breakfast line, glaring at you like a mother extremely disappointed in her kid.

"Is that it?" she asked you firmly, jerking her head over towards Jake. "With him?"

She stood with her arms crossed, her posture rigid, and you only offered her a small, toothy grin. "You can't tell me he doesn't deserve a little karma for this," you say, holding up your wrist.

Nat eyed your hand, her face still hard. "You got hurt last night, Maeve. If the two of you keep this up, it's going to escalate, and things are going to get worse."

You shrugged. "It's just a harmless prank, Nat. You know I'm capable of doing much worse."

She does know, having been your accomplice back in school. The two of you were in charge of the student union's annual April Fool's trick for three years in a row. To this day, you're pretty sure some of those crickets were still alive and pissing Dr. Flynn off in his lecture hall.

There was a moment of silence as Nat weighed your words, prompting you to say, "He woke all of us up yesterday morning by banging a pan, he wanted us to lug the cooler up that hill, and he screamed bear, resulting in this," you hold up your arm. "Salt in his coffee? That's minuscule in comparison."

"Alright," she finally said, her voice firm. "But it stops there. We don't need the drama."

"Alright, Mom," you joked, grabbing a bowl of oatmeal. Satisfied with your answer, she let you go, guiding you back to your spot in the line. After collecting your bowl and while she was getting hers, you leaned over, resting your shoulder against hers.

"You got to admit, though, the look on his face was worth it alone."

Nat couldn't help it when she sputtered out a laugh at the memory, and you giggled softly as you swayed back to your tent with your food.

You wondered if something as simple as switching out sugar for salt would be enough to fuck up his day. Or if the guilt building in the pit of your stomach would stop any time soon. After all, Velma Kelly in Chicago was right.

He definitely had it coming. Anyone would have done the same.

...Right?

Careful, Maeve - Nat's not happy.. Not at all...

Taglist:

@desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @kmc1989 @fanficfandomlove @hookslove1592 @dakotakazansky

@teacupsandtopgun @lynnevanss @dizzybee03 @keyrani

@shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @dempy @stargazer-88 @alldaysdreamer @the-dark-and-mystery @bookchik15

@atarmychick007 @tinytotontheoversizedpony @buckysteveloki-me @wretchedmo

@redbarn1995 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @yuckosworld @wren5650 @mrsevans90 @bellaireland1981 @tgmreader @halibshepherd @essie1876 @formulafun @memoriesat30

Part 5 - I can't go on without you - is being edited!

~ Lucky ☘️

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angelsanarchy · 10 months

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Tangerine Skies: Possum x Y/N Series CH 6

Tagging: @svgarcaine @icarus-star @romanroyapoligist @tempt-ress @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @liquidsmoothdomme @auggiethecreator @ethical-cain-vinnel @blacksoul-27

TW: Oral sex, deepthroating

Y/n woke up to Possum's hard on pressed into her back. Possum snored softly into her neck and she reached between them to stroke him.

"Mmm I like dreams like this." He groaned as he stirred.

"Yeah? How do dreams like this usually end for you?" Y/n had felt him grow harder in her hand as she turned around to face him, his grip on her body not allowing her to straddle him.

"Usually with me having to get some wetnaps from a gas station for my sleeping bag." He kept his eyes shut as he laughed and Y/n couldn't help but notice how young he looked like this.

"Well If I use my mouth, you won't have to use wetnaps." Y/n kissed his chest and he groaned. His grip on her loosened and she slithered down to his cock, placing little kisses below his bellybutton.

"I don't know that I will last very long. This is the most I've cum in a while...consecutively anyway." Possum sat up on his elbows watching Y/n closely.

"I just want to choke on you for a few seconds and you can cum whenever you want." Y/n smirked licking the tip. He hissed at the feeling and watched her spit on his length. She tried to push a bit of his pubes out of the way of her mouth as she started to bob her head slowly, letting his dick probe the side of her cheek. She suckled the sides, teasing him slowly before she took the majority of him in, gagging instantly.

"Fuccck. Fuck fuck fuck." His head fell back but he remained propped on his elbows. She could feel his hips trying to stay still but whenever he thursted just slightly she pulled off. She kept trying to keep her hair from falling into her face and Possum noticed, taking her hair into his hands and holding it as he watched her gagging.

"I'm about to blow." He moaned and Y/n could taste the salty spunk hit the roof of her mouth with force before sliding down her throat. He whined with every little pull as she milked his cock to semi-softness before crawling back on top of him.

"I'll never be able to wake up in this tent without a hard cock now." Possum breathed making Y/n laugh.

"Sorry not sorry." She shrugged. Possum smiled at her before glancing at his phone.

"Shit I'm late." He got up and started shuffling about his tent, paused and kissed Y/n with a smile.

"Thank you for the wake up call." He ran his thumb over her bottom lip.

"Anytime." She smirked putting her clothes back on. She watched him gather his things and she almost thought he was preparing to pack it in but he turned around and looked at her.

"I need to ask a huge favor." He took her hands into his and she shook her head.

"What's wrong?" She asked concerned.

"I need you to watch my little brother. I can't take him where I have to go today and I don't want him to worry. He just needs to eat a few times and he'll find the facilities on his own." Possum explained.

"Where are you going that you can't take him?" She asked curiously

"I'm doing a delivery for a guy and if I get caught up, I'm afraid of what they'll do to him." Now Y/n was worried.

"Possum...please don't do anything stupid." Y/n said making Possum freeze.

"It's all good. I can handle it. Will you please do this for me? I don't trust him with anyone else." Possum pleaded.

"Are you in some kind of trouble that maybe I can help with? You don't have to do something that could get you arrested." Y/n tried to talk him out of it.

"I'm always in a little bit of trouble but it's been nice to come back home and have something make it all worth it." He smiled sweetly at her.

"I'll watch him but I want you to stay in touch with me. I'll worry if you don't come back." Possum kissed her quickly and pulled her phone from the picnic table.

"I just put my number in your phone. Try to text me and not call. Calling could get me in some sticky situations. I promise to come back." Possum put his hands on her shoulder and she nodded.

"Hey, you can trust me. I've done this a million times." Possum grabbed his bag and handed the smaller one containing his brother in it to Y/n who took it.

"Please be careful." She said making him roll his eyes.

"Of course! I'll be late so you two don't wait up." Possum gave them both a kiss on the forehead before taking off towards the main road on foot. Y/n watched her phone like a hawk most of the day, keeping an eye on Opossum and trying not to worry.

She wished she had his location and not just his cellphone number but that seemed like a bigger request after only knowing someone for this long. She was startled by a text message and she opened it to see a photo of Possum standing next to a tent in what looked liked like a camping store. The picture was of him looking mischievous and the caption read:

"This tent just gave me a boner...I hope no one notices." Y/n smiled at the text.

"Never thought I'd be jealous of a tent." She replied getting a laughing crying emoji and an alien emoji back. She started to worry less knowing he was at least in a store where other people could keep tabs on him. Maybe he would be alright.

#Possum #Possum x Y/n #Welcome to Willits #One Shot Series #Tangerine Skies Series #Tangerine Skies #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult #6/9

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sqarletsworldlesswandering · 18 hours

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Silly thing but uhhhhh...

What do wanderer houses look like? Also starfolk furniture and stuff?

Oooohoo hm.... I need to think about this one.

Houses kinda depend more on climate and zone than on the species inhabiting it, although that has an effect to. Climate, available materials, and location are considered first and foremost to work out the basic structure, and then accommodations for the species factor in after the basics are figured out.

Here's a location breakdown:

Midnight Forest: Pretty standard hut structure for the surface. Down in the caverns they've got a lot more hanging architecture that just connects ceiling and floor. They've got the resources for a lot of wood-work, but also stone masonry, so there's a mix. The cavern dwelling usually use more stone.

Amethyst Bog: Raised structures - because of the water, pretty much everything is either off the ground on stilts, or hanging from the ceiling of a cavern or a mushroom stalk. Lighter abodes, like those of the Wanderers, get the aerial real estate, while any heavier and bigger structures are grounded. They tend to use a lot of stone in their structures, plus mushroom glass and shroom-stalk. In keeping with the zone's shape language, a lot of the houses have a shallow triangular structure - sort of tent shaped, but a lot heftier than just a tent.

Golden Spire: Uh... well, the whole zone is a giant tower. So housing in turn kinda looks like apartments? Little cubbies tucked away here or there, mini-communities of smaller homes, etc. The upper levels are usually reserved for the aerial folks so they have easy access to the sky. Lots of generally box-shaped housing stacked neatly together.

Overgrown Sanctuary: This one also has a lot of raised stuff near water-level, but less of it. The majority of the housing hangs down from the islands, or perches on top of it. You'll get little mini-villages, each on an island. Sometimes those lattices have houses on and around them as well. Pretty much everything is covered in garden, too. The gardens sorta have houses, not the other way around. Homes here are generally dome-shaped, some even resembling bubbles, and there's a lot of glass-work (much like the material of the lattices).

Scarlet Ravine: Similar to the Spire, the ravine has a lot of housing carved out of the walls, rather than constructed on top. Everything is very cave oriented. Those rock pillars all over the place also have smaller housing inside them, although that was more built with temporary housing for the miners in mind.

Silver Peaks: Here you get a return of aerial housing, although rather than hanging down below something, these are usually suspended between rock formations and settled on a web-like support structure. There's a lot of tent-like shaping here, often with a steepled roof, a floor, and then a crawlspace underneath that's a shallower, inverted "tent". That said, most structures are made out of sturdier, more permanent material than the average tent.

Now, as for Wanderer homes in general:

They've usually got smaller housing because they're pretty small compared to most Starfolk, and don't have any major peculiarities as far as mobility. They can sorta go wherever.

They're probably the most similar to our own, as a whole, and I imagine the types of furniture are roughly the same. However, I like to think that a lot of stuff is more... "nest" shaped, though. Bean-bags, semi-sphere chairs with pillows and blankets, other such stuff. Beds are basically just pillow and blanket nests, honestly, and will often have a canopy of some kind. The hardware is made mostly from local material - wood or stone depending on the zone, sometimes even a sturdy glass.

It's also distinctly possible that they don't divide off rooms the same way - because sleeping is more of a recreational thing than a necessity, it's much more likely that they don't each have a bedroom, but rather there's a single bedroom that they flop in when they get the yen. They would have personal workspaces though. ...Some houses might have a designated bathroom, which is for exclusively what it says on the tin - the bath. But it's also kinda... impractical, and not something they need to do as often as we do, so it's just as likely they have public showers and glass baths (especially the glass baths. Having a personal one is just... so much work). If, somehow, you've got a Darkfolk and a Lightfolk living together, and they have a bathroom that they both use, then they probably just have the tub, but you can bet they're adamant about that thing being thoroughly cleaned and dried whenever the other is done with it.

Kitchens also just... depend on the wanderer. Most houses will have one, but for some it's pretty minimal, for others it might have more tools (Edda and Aven, for example, have a larger kitchen because Aven enjoys cooking and Edda enjoys baking occasionally. Left to herself, Edda would probably have a much smaller kitchen, though.)

The big one for Wanderers, and starfolk in general, is the living room/shared space, cuz that's where 90% of things happen, and it's easily the coziest room in the house. In some houses, there might be a main area, then a smaller "parlor" type room for smaller or more private stuff.

They also usually have some sort of entry-room/mudroom for greetings, plus coats n' stuff to stay while people are inside.

The ideas are... coming kinda slowly right now. I've got a headache apropos of nothing. I'll probably have more intelligent thoughts on this later.

#sqarlettalks #ask box shenanigans #worldless au: eclipsed

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mindsmade · 10 months

Text

aeren doesn't have a tent; he just pulls up several slabs of earth to provide shelter. again: referring to toph in atla. the inside and exterior of it are flavoured with some personal items:

aerendyl usually situates himself along the periphery of the camp, on or very close to the edge. he wants his privacy once he's chosen to retreat from the main 'body' of the camp, and will prefer to find a spot that affords him a view of the surroundings – either as a calming view to wake up to, or a way to put his mind at ease and be certain he's aware of any incoming threats from that direction.

several rugs and pelts overlap each other on the floor inside his ... hut?

his bedroll is usually on the right ( pov: looking in from the outside ), with the pillow near the far wall. said bedroll is very thin, as he likes to be in contact with the earth whenever he can. he piles on various blankets when they're in the shadow-cursed lands; the earth there 'doesn't feel right' and keeps him from sleeping. ( will also offer to pile on several more blankets should someone come around for a cuddle. he knows his bedroll is otherwise dreadfully uncomfortable to most, lmao )

crystals. so many crystals – on the floor along in bundles along the corners, embedded into the walls, and potentially in the roof ( if closed ). honestly, it's like stepping into a geode sometimes. e.g.: yellow jasper close to his shelter's entrance, aragonite along the walls, aquamarine literally wherever he has space, black obsidian and malachite most likely by his bedroll, and sardonyx along the outside of his shelter.

tucked under his pillow: romance novels to read before sleeping. some are smutty; it can't be helped!

on the other side of his tent ( left side when looking in from outside ), he keeps his sling bag, various letters he's held on to over the years and the stonecutter’s diary.

outside his tent, there's a comfy pillow with a low table he uses when journaling, poring over his father's diary, and jewelcrafting. it's not uncommon to find his toolkit left there when he's gone from camp.

he'll druidcraft plants along the outer perimeter of his shelter – mostly whatever's native to the area. in the shadow-cursed lands, he very obviously fails at that, leaving the outward appearance of his space looking threadbare.

the top might have an opening on clear nights so he can look at the stars.

his armour ( once cleaned ) is hung out to dry outside of his tent.

honestly, he's not opposed to wildshaping into a cat or smth and just snuggling up to someone for a few hours either. if he feels it'd be a welcomed gesture, don't be surprised to find an off-white / sandy looking cat traipsing into your tent and taking up residence next to you!!!

#ooc.#❛ headcanon / aerendyl.#théo's hc about daemos' tent inspired this honestly. thank u pal #anyway. i'm off now to scarf down early dinner and hop into a dnd oneshot for a few hours 🏃🏻‍♂️

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beetlesau · 2 years

Text

Chapter 5, "I Will." Uhhh yup, here's another

An hour later, you had moved all your various collected camping gear to the roof of your building. This included two tents, a sleeping bag, firewood, a few pots and pans for coffee, and whatever canned food you had left. There was even still your small raised garden growing tomatoes close by.

Not being a fan of a strong chilled breeze you set up the small tent inside the larger tent. As ridiculous and difficult as it was to put together, it did help with insulation. At least, that's what you told yourself.

Any sane person would probably hightail it out of there by now, and find a new place to live entirely. But you were a bit stubborn when it came to your large collection of trinkets, unwilling to leave them behind just yet. You wanted to at least pack them away in the event you did have to move soon.

Which is how you ended up on the roof, barring the only door in or out. You couldn't leave your things behind. If you ever needed to get back to your room, you left a window unlocked and you could easily scale the walls for access thanks to your quirk.

Sure, it wasn't the most practical solution, but it would do for now. You just wanted to be out of reach of the Dead that had turned your world upside down.

Who was he? Who was he before all this that made him so different in death? You ponder if the answer to that could be found in his previous life. A little perturbed you would never know the answer.

What you did know is that he was dangerous. Despite the fluke of him not eating you after you got knocked out at the crate.... and when he followed you back to your home... and watched you sleep... and then attacked you but ran away at the last second. Yeah. He was dangerous.

But! He couldn't reach you from here. The barred door was made of sturdy metal, and you could easily get away in time if he did end up breaking it down.

"Point to me? Why yes, I think so. Point to the Dead? Zero." you smugly dusted your hands together as you sat around your cozy warm fire. "I've already seen his quirk, so at least I know he can't fly."

You watched as a pot above the fire boiled a few ripe tomatoes and water, expired but acceptable spices, and finally to top it off, a package of dried instant noodles. It wasn't much, but you considered yourself a real chef in the apocalypse. Nothing like a soup to warm yourself with.

You sat enjoying the fresh breeze when a small drop of rain hit your nose and then a few more nestled into your clothing.

"Ah, crumbs." you mumbled, "suppose that's the cue to retire for the evening."

By now, the sun was getting low and soon there would be nothing but your small fire to illuminate the rooftop. There were more shady clouds on the horizon, the impending promise of a storm soon to hit, but you hoped it would be mild enough that you wouldn't have to retreat back inside.

You headed inside your tents and crawled into your sleeping bag. With a full belly, warm blood, and, not to mention the absolutely traumatic day you'd just had, you'd fallen asleep faster than you ever thought possible.

Finally a well-overdue rest.

... Except not.

It started out slowly at first, the small pitter-patter on the roof of your tent. Not even loud enough to wake you, but eventually it turned into heavy rain. You were finally startled awake by the sound of thunder roaring all around you.

"Crap! no way!" you shrieked as lightning struck in the distance and the thunder followed directly after. You panicked, realizing this was not the safest place to be. But if you went back inside... he could show up, and he might not have as hard a time controlling his hunger as last time.

alright, let's not panic here. We'll just climb down to the window, and uh... figure out where to stay.

You got up from the warm comfort and made your way to a duffle bag in the outer layer of the tent. You ruffled around for a rain jacket or umbrella, groaning when you found neither. You had to make due and instead pulled out a large blue tarp and a bungee cord. You wrapped it around yourself a few times, trying to get it to stay in position without trapping your arms or blocking your vision. When you finally got it somewhat under control and held in place, at least at the waist, you peeked outside the tent. Some good news you noted as the barrels you'd set out some months ago were finally getting their use, already half full from the heavy rainfall. Apocolypse sink water at its best was tragically grainy.

Looking beyond the barrels in the distance, towards the bridge, for a fleeting moment, you wondered if your Dead chums would be alright. Nothing to shield them from the storm. Although, luckily no thoughts to make them fearful of it either.

Pulling you from your considerations was a sound that almost rang like thunder, but it followed after no lightning strike above. You walked outside your tent and towards the ledge of the building, holding your tarp in place. You wondered if the pelting of rain on the tarp would drown out any other noises. You looked down the wall of the building and could see your window. Wondering now if the rain would make it much harder to keep a solid grip as you'd scale down it.

You tested it by placing one hand on the wall, then another. Your quirk allowed you to practically stick to the wall, it didn't seem you'd lost any grip on the wet stone. Happy enough with this small test you leaned back over to remove your shoes.

Then another thunder, but not thunder sound rang out, this time it was closer and answered the question of hearing under a tarp. You looked down the wall where it seemed to have come from, but found nothing.

You definitely heard something. You hoisted yourself over the ledge and made sure all ten fingers were down flat against the building before taking your next movement. Cautions as you made small steady actions down the wall.

You'd only gotten maybe three full feet away from the ledge before the wall below you exploded out in glass and brick. The smoke that spewed out made you cough uncontrollably and your eyes burn.

He was there, in your apartment, apparently mad enough that when he couldn't find you, his plan of action was to blow a hole in your wall.

When the smoke departed you saw the Dead leaning out of his new window renovation, his stiffened neck straining to turn enough to see you hanging above him. If you didn't know any better you'd say he looked almost surprised to see you there. That supposed look turned into a scowl as he slowly reached out a grabbing hand towards you. He couldn't reach you, you were still a good floor and a half above him. But still, he reached, beckoned you to come down.

You shook your head at him, "ARE YOU NUTS? You tried to eat me yesterday! You just BLEW A HOLE in the side of my apartment! Go away! I don't want to be eaten anymore!" you were delirious with fear and anger that you WOULD have to find a new place to live. you turned to climb back to the roof, maybe against all odds he would listen and just go away.

You didn't look back when you heard more explosions, even as they passed right by your ears. Maybe he was trying to kill you. Trying to blow you up. When you reached the ledge again you threw yourself over and lay on the roof, panting. The rain had gotten under your tarp and you were soaked through.

How could anything possibly get worse? you cried.

Then you heard the shuffling. Coming towards you, on the roof, in the rain, in the dark, as you were soaked to the core.

Reluctant to open your eyes you just spoke out blindly. "Are you on the roof with me?"

...

A growl.

"Can you fly or something?"

another growl.

Sigh. "Alright."

You picked yourself up and sat leaning against the wall, head between your knees. Just... over it.

Then you felt a tickle of cloth lightly tapping against your arm. Finally looking up, a rag was being dangled in front of you.

"What's this?" you asked nonchalantly.

"Uhh."

"Ah, right. Cool, thanks." you took the rag and put your head back down.

An annoyed grunt followed by a soft thud landing in front of you, you checked on your stalker and saw that he'd now kneeled down in front of you, tense and childishly mad in appearance.

"I don't understand! What do you want from me!"

He reached out his hand clumsily and a bit too tightly around yours, pulling it and the rag up to his face.

"You.. want me to clean your face now? What about before...?"

"Herl" his voice was harsh but quieter.

"What?" you leaned in closer to hear him better, once again forgetting what he was.

"H-help."

"So you do need my help." you could feel your heart melt and the utter sadness of the situation. There was something inside this Dead, something that was still living.

He huffed and tried to look away, but you still held his cheek and turned it back to you. His eyes, still like rubies, looked as though they were wet, but surely it was only from the rain.

Forgetting about the cold and the rain, you wiped his face. He had clearly been caught out in the storm since some of the work had already been done for you. His hair was looking cleaner, and the muck in it had dripped down over his face. You wiped it away gently as he stared at you, unblinking. You cleaned the ash and soot that still clung to the divots under his eyes. Then the neck, following it up to the sharp curves of his jaw. When it was as clean as it could get, for now, you leaned back and admired the work.

"There we go... there was someone under all that, huh?" you smiled.

"Help." he repeated. "Help."

"I--"

There was someone there. Inside, pounding on this newly cleaned grey flesh that begged to be freed. Again, you wondered. Who was this person in their living life, to be filled with such determination in death? You felt a lump in your throat. The agony of humanity trapped within the Dead. You could find out. You would.

"I will."

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danny-pino-group-therapy · 1 year

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#Nick Amaro #svu #law and order svu #law & order: svu #danny pino #camping #poll #tent camping #rv camping

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seedsofagony · 2 years

Text

Tomcat (GK)

Series: Golden Kamuy

Characters: Hijikata Toshizou, Nagakura Shinpachi; in alphabetical order: Ienaga Kano, Kadokura Toshiyuki, Kirawus, Okuyama Kantarou, Toni Anji, Ushiyama Tatsuuma

Summary: I don’t want to let the Hiji-cat-a out of the bag: SFW, fluff, alternate timeline, spoiler free

Word Count: 1,945

Notes: Inspired by the ohiru neko (sleepy cat) prize figures and this comic by tyag53, along with my desire for everybody to be together under one roof. ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Image Credit: Alexander Possingham

Hijikata sat up slowly, blankets puddling in his lap, stretched and yawned. Light filtered in through the windows, cutting golden angles across the tatami mats and walls. He was surprised by the hour. Normally he would never sleep this late - it was a waste of daylight - but his futon was warm and soft, practically begging him to stay just a little while longer. His jaws cracked with another yawn and he rubbed bleary eyes.

No. He slapped his hands to his cheeks and shook his head to clear out the cobwebs. Hair falling over his face, he tucked it behind his ears. The long grey strands fell loose back into his face. Absently, he tucked them back again, but the strands fell into his face. Furrowing his brow, Hijikata swept back his hair a third time only to realize there was nothing to hold it back.

Not a man to panic, he reached up and carefully felt the sides of his head. No ears. That couldn’t be - he could hear the birds outside the window, chittering and singing in a way that suddenly seemed to draw all of his attention. Soft movement on the top of his head amplified the sound. Tentatively, Hijikata smoothed his hands over his hair to discover two triangular ears covered in sleek fur.

His tail bristled - tail?! It stuck out straight behind him, a slender exclamation point with every grey hair on end. Taking a deep breath, Hijikata felt it relax slightly. The fur was still fluffed, but the tail curled around and into his lap for closer inspection. Tentatively, he stroked the raised fur, surprised by the pleasant buzz - not unlike a comb run through your hair.

Frowning thoughtfully, he held the tail - his tail - in his hands. First, he wondered how something like this could happen. Was he dreaming? He pulled a few hairs from the tail and winced. If he wasn’t dreaming, then why had no one else noticed? It was unusual for him to sleep this late, so why hadn’t anyone woken him up? Rousing himself with great difficulty from the warmth of his bed and stretching with markedly feline languor, Hijikata slid open the screen.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

At the sound of the screen sliding open behind him, Nagakura couldn’t help but feel a certain degree of relief. If that old demon wanted to sleep in - if he’d found some woman to spend the night without him knowing - that was his business. But there was always a part of him that worried. Hijkata Toshizou might be a legend, but he wasn’t immune to the ravages of old age. A heart attack or a stroke might take him as easily as any bullet.

He half-turned as Ienaga ladled miso soup into his bowl, knitting his shaggy brows together to disguise his relief. “I trust you slept well?”

The whole lot of them were early risers. It went without saying that Nagakura himself was awake before dawn - he practiced his sword, but the older he got, the less he found he needed to sleep. Ushiyama always got himself up early to train, and Toni was never long after. Ienaga busied herself with cooking breakfast or gathering herbs, and Kantarou had wisely learned to keep to her schedule. Kirawus was up early to hunt or fish - it was only his layabout companion, Kadokura, who couldn’t be bothered to rise in a timely manner. Ogata, well, he came and went and was little more than a stray cat.

Cat. Nagakura didn’t even notice the hot soup spilling over into his lap - didn’t even notice that Ienaga had not stopped pouring, her eyes fixed on Hijikata standing in the open screen. They all stared - chopsticks halfway to open mouths, conversations left dangling in mid-air. It was Ushiyama who finally spoke first.

“Well,” he said, returning to his rice, “I saw that in a brothel once. I just didn’t expect you to go in for that sort of thing, Hijikata.”

Nagakura exploded to his feet, half-foaming with wordless sounds, soup bowl sloshing over in his white-knuckled grip. “Wh-”

Hijikata held up a hand, the triangular ears on top of his head flicking back mildly. “I know this must come as a shock,” he began.

“Shock?!” Nagakura spluttered. “I expect this kind of prank from them,” he jabbed his chopsticks at Kirawus and Kadokura - who echoed a soft and simultaneous, Hey! -”But, Hijikata… you?”

Hijikata pursed his lips in a patient smile and began again. “I know this must come as a shock - to no one more than myself - but this is the way of it until we can find a cure.”

Still clutching the pot, Ienaga crowded around him, squinting at his ears. “They’re real?”

“Apparently,” said Hijikata. “And there’s more.” He coughed softly into his hand, a sinuous grey tail suddenly curling into view.

For a fraction of a second, you could have heard a pin drop - then the room erupted. Nagakura’s eyes rolled back into his head and he hit the floor, soup spraying across the tatami mat. Ienaga wondered if, at some desperate point in time, Hijikata had ever eaten a cat. Kantarou squealed then immediately covered his mouth, eyes wide but sparkling. Kadokura could only stutter and flush bright red while Kirawus banged him on the back, convinced he must be choking.

Only Ushiyama and Toni failed to react. Wiggling a finger in his ear, Toni grimaced. “Can somebody tell me what the hell is going on?”

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Once the excitement died down and Nagakura had been revived, Hijikata tried to conduct business as usual. He went over the day’s plans, talked strategy, and doled out the necessary funds, but all the while, he couldn’t shake the heaviness of fatigue. All he wanted to do was crawl back into bed and take a little cat nap for, say, ten to twelve hours. After that? Something to eat and maybe a bath before going back to sleep. It was utterly unlike him, but he didn’t pay it any mind - it was instinctively feline hedonism.

The feeling only grew as the day progressed. His men came and went, while Hijikata found himself following the rays of the sun as they moved around the room. When the sun sank below the horizon, bathing the room in cool blue shadows, he nestled up to the brazier, nearly close enough to singe the fur on his ears and tail.

Stifling a yawn, neither seemed all that strange to him now. They weren’t entirely convenient - when Kadokura and Kirawus began to bicker like an old married couple, Hijikata’s ears flattened against his head, tail lashing in annoyance. That shut them up faster than his feline glare. It was becoming impossible to maintain his usual cool facade.

By the time dinner rolled around, the house was full again. Ienaga served up bowls of rice (which Hijikata mostly ignored) with grilled fish (which he devoured). Sake, while not quite as palatable as the fish, was still welcome, and deep into their cups, Hijikata’s new appendages became the center of attention again.

Kantarou sprawled out on the floor, face flushed, entranced by Hijikata’s lithe grey tail. “Can I touch it…?” he asked, words thick with drink.

Before Hijikata could answer, Kantarou circled his hand around the tail, gently stroking it from bottom to top, letting it fall from his loose grip. Hijikata sat bolt upright, struck by that pleasant buzz again, and a soft, deep Prrp! rumbled in his chest.

For the second time that day, you could have heard a pin drop. And for the second time, the room absolutely exploded, everyone crawling over the top of each other to pet ears and tail. Nagakura reacted better this time, emboldened by his sake. Swinging a broom like a katana - deadly if domestic - he chased them off or at least in circles. Hijikata slunk out of the room unnoticed. He’d had his share of the commotion and it was long past time for bed.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

In the morning, Hijikata found himself curled up on the blankets, tail wrapped snugly around his body and over his nose. It was dark still, but he could make out each sleeping shape as easily as if it were daylight. His ears swiveled toward the window, catching the chirping of birds - fascinating stuff. Rousing himself, he arched his back into a full-body stretch and padded toward the shades for a peek. Hands caught him up before he could even make it off the blanket.

“Hijikata?”

Nagakura peered at him, holding him under his arms. Hijikata flicked his tail in annoyance.

“Is that really you?”

Apart from his own name, the rest of Nagakura’s soft sounds were lost on Hijikata, totally unintelligible. He was more interested in those birds, and he’d just about enough of being held. But instead of putting him down, Nagakura hugged his small grey body to his chest, tucking his fuzzy head beneath his bristled chin. He tolerated it, and the longer Nagakura held him like this, the more pleasant it became. A deep purr emanated from his chest as Nagakura buried his nose into his fur.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

At breakfast, no one knew what to say. The old grey cat lay curled in Nagakura’s lap, dozing, purring in its sleep as he stroked its fur. Of one thing, however, they were certain. The Hijikata Toshizou they knew was gone, his nightclothes in a wrinkled heap on his futon, his sword untouched. He had been replaced, every whisker, by this feline and showed no signs of recognition. Although, now that he was a cat, it was hard to tell if he really didn’t know them or if he was just doing as cats are wont to do.

Kantarou was the first to speak. “So… now what?” He stared down at the cat, torn between heartbreak and desperately wanting to hold the little animal himself.

Kadokura rubbed his stubbled chin. “Do we continue the mission?”

“Can we?” Ushiyama frowned, arms folded across his chest. “Is there a mission without him?”

“The gold is still out there,” said Toni. “We have a copy of his tattoo. We could try.”

“Carry on his dream?” Ienaga tapped her finger on her lips. “I suppose there’s no reason why he couldn’t turn back someday…”

Kirawus took a drag on his pipe. “It’s worth a try.”

Nagakura cleared his throat, but his voice was rough with emotion. “If you all want to keep going, then have it. As for me… I'm staying with him.”

He looked down at the cat and scratched it behind the ears, tender in a way he could never have been before. The cat purred louder, stretched, toes splayed, then looked up at him, blinking slowly. Nagakura pursed his lips, whiskers bristling, as he held back tears.

“Then it’s decided,” said Ushiyama suddenly. He rubbed furiously at his nose and sniffed hard. “Kantarou, today you’re coming with me. Kadokura, Kirawus, you two are-”

Assignments and funds were given. Breakfast was cleaned up, the dishes washed and put away. The house emptied out save for Nagakura and the cat, who remained where they sat, bathed in warm rays of morning light.

“If you ever get well,” murmured Nagakura, “I hope you remember this day.” The cat did not stir, but sat in a loaf on the old man’s lap. “Alive or dead, Hijikata Toshizou still commands the hearts of men.”

At this, the cat opened one eye - its slitted pupil meeting Nagakura’s gaze - before closing it again. A deep purr rumbled through its chest, and Nagakura could not be sure that the demon vice commander was not still there, somewhere, in the soft body of a small grey cat.

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josiebelladonna · 2 years

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kinkmas | black moon | day twenty-five

chapter title: “eros”

pairing: alex skolnick x fem!oc

tags: voice kink

ao3 link | kinktober/sister piece “eclipse”

minors dni, and merry christmas!! ❄️💋❄️💋

“Chris... Christine...”

She opened her eyes only to see the gray morning light that washed over the ridge above the roof of their tent. They were still pitched out on the side of the mountain with the look out to the desert, and as far as she knew, a bit of snow had fallen over the top of the tent and all around the ground outside of there: she raised her head a bit, and she squinted her eyes to find a dusting of snow up on the ridge. She then turned her head again for a look at Alex and his deep eyes, as clear as the blue sky outside of there.

“Yes?” she asked him in a broken voice. He cleared his throat.

“You’re lying on my arm.”

Christine lifted herself up a bit so he could slide his arm from underneath her body: he tucked his arm closer to his chest, and then she lay back down again, and she brought herself even closer to his body. She put her arms around his hips, and all the while, she could feel something soft and plush in her hands.

“Hmm... you feel softer than normal,” she whispered into his ear.

“I am soft. Look at me.”

She looked down on the inside of the sleeping bag to see his body nestled up next to her. His waist seemed a bit fuller and rounder than before, even with the slender shape of his body still very much intact.

“Ooh, yeah... I'm looking.” She glanced up at him and puckered her lips at him. “And I like what I see.”

“You do?” he asked her with a little raise of his eyebrows.

“I do, yeah. You look so cute and so healthy.” She put her arms around his slightly full waist to feel his softness and his warmth. Christine nestled her head underneath his chin to better take in his warmth. So warm, and he smelled so good as well, as if he had just climbed out of the shower at some point right before she woke up. She ran her left hand down the shape of his ass, and then back up to the small of his back: it was only a few pounds, but his body stayed so slender, and yet he felt so plush.

He cleared his throat and pressed his lips to her forehead out of nourishment.

“This is so good,” he said in a slightly louder voice. “So very good.”

“How good are we talking?” she asked him with a raise of her head for a look into his face.

“Good as hell,” he replied as he closed his eyes and showed her a sweet smile. His cheekbones were full and round, like little apples. Christine gently pressed her lips onto his right one, as if she was kissing the ripest apple from the tree branch. He was so soft, so gentle, so boyish, and all he needed was a slight nudge.

“I don’t want this feeling to ever go away,” he confessed to her. “I don’t ever want to leave this spot here. I don’t ever want to leave your arms, Christine. I want to lie here forever.”

She reached up for another kiss on his soft lips, two little cherries from the next tree over. All the while, she ran her left hand over his hip and then onto his waist to feel his soft flesh some more.

“Could you say my name again?” she suggested to him as she ran her index fingertip around the rim of his belly button.

“Christine. In fact, you know what? I like saying your name, if I'm honest. Christine—Christine—sweet Christine. The sweetest angel who seduced me and loved every inch of me when it felt as though no one would ever do such a thing.”

She buried her head against his chest once again, that time to hear his heartbeat in there.

“Just when I believed that no one would ever love me...” His voice trailed off. She raised her head again, that time for a gentle kiss on the side of the neck.

“Just when I thought... that I was unlovable.” With his voice down low, Christine thought of the finest wine straight out of the best bottle from the highest shelf over her head. Indeed, she thought about the full, deep sound of his voice and the way he lowered it whenever he spoke to her: it was as if he was telling her about a secret for the ages, and right over the top of the pillow between the two of them. Like a fine wine, or the freshest, wildest honey straight out of the beehive: with the words of poetry included in there as well, it sounded as though he spoke with the feeling of velvet inside of him.

“Just when I thought that there was no way that my body, my heart, my everything... could be genuinely loved.”

She pressed her lips onto his own once again. “I love your voice,” she told him in a hushed voice. “God, I love your voice so much. I'm so madly in love with your voice.”

“Okay, that’s interesting,” he confessed.

“Interesting in a sense that—it's kind of turning you on a bit?” Indeed, she could feel him up against her thigh. The mere mention of it gave him a bit of something, something that she wondered if he had felt before in his life, in his life before she arrived.

“I guess you could say that that’s true, my snow bunny,” he replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders and a raise of his eyebrows.

“By the way, there’s something that's been on my mind lately,” she started.

“Go ahead.”

“What is it that you wanted to tell me at the start of all of this?”

He swallowed, and she raised her gaze to his face once again, and that time, he showed her a thoughtful, almost pensive expression plastered on his face. He looked almost on the brink of tears all the while as well.

It was eating away at him: it was one of those things that she couldn’t exactly look away from, and it was one of those things that she could feel in her bones as well.

“I think I'm in love with you,” he confessed to her in the huskiest voice by far. “I’m in love with you, Christine. I'm so in love with you. I don’t think I'll ever love again with you here with me.”

“Oh...” She clasped her hands to either side of his face, and she brought her lips to his for the biggest kiss by far. Her tongue slithered into his mouth for a taste of him, for a deep feeling of him, the deepest and softest feeling by far that came with Alex.

“I want you to always take good care of yourself,” she whispered to him. “I’m so glad that you’re away from her.”

“I’ve never felt better when I'm away from her,” he whispered back to her. “I don’t want her anymore. I don’t need her. I came to a point where I wanted to break it off with her and so—I did. I learned a little respect for myself.”

“Your silky, sexy voice definitely doesn’t need her,” she assured him. “Not another breath wasted on her gross, worthless ass.”

He kissed her again, and that time around, his hand slithered onto her chest for a fondle of her bare breasts.

“Feel the desire inside of you, Alex,” she whispered to him in between kisses. “Feel it. Don't ignore it. Don't you ever ignore your heart’s truest desires.”

His fingers caressed her nipples, which in turn made her gasp.

“You know what? Just for that—” Christine moved her hand down to his crotch for a good fondle for him. He parted his lips and let out a low whistle from the sensation.

“Hey, guess what?” he started again, that time with a little excited tone to his voice.

“What?”

“It’s Christmas.”

“Aw.” Another press of her lips onto his own and she showed him a little smile. “Merry Christmas, my baby. I love you.”

“I love you more than anything in the world,” he lowered his voice down to a whisper, and he brought his hand to the small of her back. To never let her go, and for to never let him go as well. She could help him heal, that is if he was more than willing to let her help him. The sweetest love that no one would ever have to know about, not even when asked about it.

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heroesofgaleia · 1 month

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Part X: It Should Have Hurt

Baonn is sitting on one of the tables when Aldora and Deorwine come back downstairs, arms full of books from the newly-discovered library. They set the books down next to him and sit on one of the couches to go through them.

"So, whatcha looking for?" He asks.

"Anything that could help us figure out what's going on here." Aldora says without looking up.

Deorwine makes a noise in agreement, opening a book titled 'The Primordials, The Gwadoù, And The Gods.'

He turns to look at Lawson on the other couch, fiddling with one of the sending stones as he lays with his head in Auden’s lap while he sketches on a piece of paper on the back of a book.

“Nuh-uh, no looking ‘til I’m done” Auden jokingly scolds Lawson, angling the book and paper upward so he can’t see the sketch anymore.

“Aw, c’mon, it looks really good already. I always really like how you draw me.”

“Not a chance, Princey.”

Baonn smiles to himself.

‘I think I’m going to enjoy traveling with these people.’

*******************

A few hours later, Baonn is woken up by the sound of quiet footsteps sneaking past where he was sleeping on one of the couches.

He opens one of his eyes to see Lawson pulling the cowl of a cloak over his head, new mask in hand. He doesn’t seem to realize that he’s awake, and he slips the mask into his bag as he slips out the door.

Baonn grabs his seal-skin cloak from where he was using it as a pillow, checks his bag for the new dagger, and follows him quietly.

He follows him across the castle lawn toward the gate, where Lawson stops and looks around.

Baonn flattens himself against one of the walls.

Apparently seeing nobody, he tentatively sticks his arm through the magic barrier, as if he expected it to stop him from leaving. When it doesn't, he steps through and starts toward the town.

He follows, stopping for just a moment to fish out the handkerchief Deorwine had given him to press to his nose and stem the trickle of blood.

When they reach the edge of the town, he can hear the sound of cheering and laughter from the streets.

He follows Lawson into an alley and sees him climbing a stack of crates against a wall to get on the rooftop of a building.

When Baonn gets to the top of the crates, he sees Lawson pointing a silver dagger at his face.

"I thought I saw a shadow following me, though I had half-convinced myself that it was just the moonlight playing tricks."

"What are you doing here?" Baonn asks.

"I could ask you the same question."

"You first."

"It's Candle Night."

"Candle Night?"

"It's a holiday that celebrates the overthrow of the Bloodstained Queen by her daughter."

He gives him a weird look, so he continues.

"The Bloodstained Queen was one of my Mam's ancestors, the Queen of Kadia. She went through several spouses and many of her citizens before her daughter could take the throne from her.

"We celebrate her daughter, the Dove Queen, with candles and parades." He gestures down to the street, where people holding candles line the sides as a parade passes through the center of them.

"I couldn’t be home to celebrate with my family, so I figured that I would come and watch their celebration."

"Why didn’t you tell anyone?"

"I didn't want to be a bother. But hey, you're here now. Want to celebrate with me? I know you’re not from this kingdom, so you probably don't care, but-"

He produces two candles from his bag and holds one out to him.

"Sure, I'll join you." He takes the candle and whistles a short tune at the wick, producing a small flame, which he offers to Lawson to light the remaining one.

"How'd you do that?"

"It's a trick I learned from a troupe of bards that I snuck off to travel with once." He says, sitting down on the edge of the roof.

He sits down beside him "You traveled with a troupe of bards? For how long?"

"A couple months when I was 15. My moms did not like it."

"Meanwhile, the year I was fifteen, I was the assistant to a baker in Almedra."

"Really? What about Auden, did he work with you?"

"Are you kidding?" He laughs, "Auden can't cook for the life of him! The boy can mend a broken arm in a matter of minutes, but every time he tries to make food it ends up as a lump of coal."

"So, what did he do?"

"The baker's spouse put him to work at the counter out front."

"Sounds boring."

"Yeah, but I don't think he minded too much. How about you? How were your months with the bards?"

"They were fun. I got to see most of Eigira before the lady my moms sent to track me down found us."

"Why didn’t you enchant her to leave so you could keep traveling with them?"

"I didn't learn how to do that until last year when I was made to work in one of our hospitals, otherwise I would have."

"Why was that a skill you learned in a hospital?"

"The healers used it as a way to calm down patients. I just… tweaked it a little bit."

"You have got to teach me how to do some of that sometime."

"Maybe. How much magic do you know right now?"

"I know how to make a fire and put it out."

"Oh, so you're at, like, basic basics. Okay, how about after the parade's over, we go somewhere, and I can teach you some basic stuff."

He looks down at the street in time to see the last performers rounding the corner. While they were talking, the entire parade had passed them by.

"Now," Lawson says, "We would use the candles to help light a bonfire, but we're not from this town, so I don't want to intrude."

He blows the candle out, and gestures for Baonn to do the same before wrapping them up in something and putting them back in his bag.

*******************

A few minutes later, they’re standing alone in one of the fields, where Baonn has Lawson light a small campfire.

"We have to start at the most basic level with the 7 elements: earth, aether, fire, water, wood, void, and sound. All magic can be achieved with at least one of these. You've obviously learned to summon fire, so that's a good start.

"Most people that use magic are better at using a couple different elements. I'm pretty good at sound magic, like the trick with the candle, and water magic. From what I've seen of Auden, I'd wager that he uses mostly aether magic, things like healing and illusions, and maybe the more physical aspects of void, like attack magic.

"From Deorwine’s staff, it's a pretty safe bet that they use wood and earth-based nature magic, things like controlling plants and animals."

"Auden told me about this stuff already. How do you know what kind of elements you're going to be best at using?"

"You've just got to try and see what sticks the best. How long did it take you to learn how to conjure fire?"

"About 10 minutes and a lot of concentration."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Fire usually takes a lot less time than that. It's a pretty responsive element. How about we try water?"

His palm glows white and a swirling ball of water appears.

"How was conjuring fire described to you?" He asks.

"Imagine it and then will it into being."

"Okay, I want you to do the same thing now." He watches Lawson close his eyes, "This time, don't worry about willing it into being at first. Just focus on imagining the water, how it feels, how it looks. You got it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, now make it real."

As he watches, Lawson’s hand glows a very dim white. A small sphere of water starts to form.

"Hey, good job. You did i-" He cuts off as Lawson opens his eyes, the dim light suddenly brightens, and the white changes to a dark orange color.

The ball of water also changes. First it grows larger, then it hardens into ice and shatters. The shards of ice shoot out of his hand and impale themselves in the ground around them.

Lawson looks terrified. His eyes, tinged with a crazed purple, are wide with fear.

"Baonn? Baonn, what's happening?"

He doesn't answer. He can't answer. He doesn't know what's going on.

The ice shards sprout, but they grow too fast for Baonn to run away. The spires of ice encase them, sealing them off from the outside world, save for a few small holes.

Baonn doesn't understand what's happening. All he knows is that he's scared.

He can see the ice bursting out of the ground, encircling them.

He can see Lawson freaking out, but he can’t do anything. It feels like he's a passenger in his own body. He can't move.

Lawson falls to his knees and the lights from his hands cut out as they meet the dirt.

As the spell ends, so does Baonn’s shock. He kneels in front of Lawson, and he puts his hands on his shoulders, but he can tell from his face that Lawson can barely hear him say his name, like he was listening through water in his ears.

"What was that??" He asks, eventually.

"I have no idea. Are you alright?"

“Yeah, I-I’m fine.” He tries to stand up, but Baonn has to catch him before he slams back into the ground.

“I don’t know that you are. We need to get you out of here.”

Baonn gently helps him sit against the ice, offering his sealskin cloak as a barrier between the cold and his clothing.

He presses his hand against the opposite side of the dome, and a strong vibration resonates through the whole structure.

The ice cracks, but nothing else.

He can hear distant running footsteps from outside the ice, and then the sound of dozens of voices speaking over one another.

From farther away, He can hear a voice shouting over the din of the others.

“Law?! Law, where are you?!” Auden yells.

From closer to them, Deorwine shouts “They’re in the ice!”

"Are you both okay?" Aldora asks.

"I'm fine,“ Baonn says, “but I don't think Lawson is."

"Law, we're gonna get you outta there, okay?" Auden’s voice says, as the dark shadows of vines creep around the ice and start to squeeze.

The cracks lengthen, but the vines aren’t strong enough.

The dome glows a dull orange from the outside, and it slowly starts to melt. The light grows brighter and brighter still until a large enough hole is melted that Auden can come in and pick Lawson up in his arms after he checks him over quickly.

Baonn drapes the cloak over him, and the group of them passes through the concerned crowd.

Some people follow them a few steps away, but they stop when they realize the direction they’re going.

He notices that the protective field of the castle lets them in without issue this time, but he’s too stressed to think too much about it.

Auden lays Lawson on the bed in their room in the inn, and then he shuts the door behind him.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Auden turns on him.

“What happened out there?”

“Auden…” Aldora puts her hand on his arm.

“No! I want to hear what he has to say.”

“Auden. It’s alright.” Deorwine says gently.

“No, it’s not! Lawson could have been seriously hurt.”

“Is he okay?” He asks quietly.

Lawson eases the door open behind Auden, and Baonn can see him wince at the movement.

“It wasn’t his fault.”

Everyone at the end of the hall looks back at him, stunned.

“Law, c’mon, you need to lie down.” Auden starts down the hallway toward him.

“He was just trying to help me learn something new.” He says, “I asked him to.“

“What happened?” Aldora asks.

“It was like what happened the night we left Almedra, like something… happened. Like something was fighting.”

“Fighting?” Baonn asks.

“It felt like my magic was boiling inside me... like when water boils?”

“Like it should have hurt, but it didn’t?”

“Yeah! How did you know?”

“Uh…” He clears his throat nervously, “just a guess.”

Nobody challenges it, but he can tell that Auden was filing it away for later.

#heroes of galeia #actually the story

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