#camping somewhere in a cave away from everything

[tacticaldiary]

I just recently found your blog and am in love with everything about it You are a very talented writer and I look forward to your post so I was wondering what you think it would be like sharing a bed with ghost

I Swear I Asked For Two

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Fluff; The Classic 'One-Bed' Trope

She freezes when he turns with her, a strong arm banding around her middle, holding her in place. "You gonna make me hold you in place?"

Bless whoever's up there for the dark because her face is burning.

"Would love that, actually." She mutters to herself before she can reign the impulsiveness in.

Masterlist

"Don't hurt me." Raises her hands in surrender, taking an exaggerated step away from him as the door to their room clicks shut behind them. "I swear I asked for two."

Ghost, bloody and dirty and exhausted, runs a hand down his balaclava-covered face, dropping his bag somewhere near the wall behind him. "Better than the floor." Is all he manages.

Once she's sure she's not in any mortal danger, she shoves back her bag next to him and kneels down, rifling through it. "Wash up first, L.T. I'll go after." There's no response but he must agree because he goes off wordlessly, a testament to how he must be just as exhausted as she was.

12 days. 12 days they had been trekking through this rural town trying to track down a target. The man had infiltrated their chain of command and had been feeding crucial information to the enemy for over a month, information that had led to quite a few of their operations being compromised. Needless to say, once he was found out he had ran in the middle of the night.

A slippery bastard.

Long stretches of land, a lot of camping out and surveying the area. Days and days of hunting this man until he was finally caught. Secured with the unit that had been traveling with them, they'd relinquished their target and been ordered to wait for exfil the next day.

Until then...well, this shady motel would have to do for the night.

They're lucky they were near a town and not in one of the long stretches between them, that much she's grateful for. Even if she didn't completely trust the room's ceiling to cave in while they were sleeping.

Stains on the walls she doesn't want to think about, cracks in the ceiling, and of course, the one queen sized bed pushed back to the far wall.

The bed.

Truthfully she doesn't know how she managed to keep her voice steady before. Her stomach was rolling at the thought of having to share a bed with him. With Ghost. With Simon.

He was...well, she thought he was extraordinary. Capable, brave, and funny in his own way. It hadn't taken long for her to develop some sort of a crush on him.

And now she was supposed to bunk down for a night with him? On that bed? Alone?

She shakes her head, focusing on rifling through her pack to find a spare set of clothes. They'd slept in worse conditions before, this was no big deal.

No big deal at all.

She curses as she finds her other pair of clothes filthy, mud staining the fabric. She'd forgotten about how she had to use them already after an unsavoury encounter with one of the locals.

"Something wrong?" She jumps at the deep voice, head snapping up to see him.

His hands are stripped of his gloves, his tactical vest off and away. A soft t-shirt takes its place, along with sweatpants that she has to make a conscious effort to tear her gaze away from.

This simply wasn't fair. It's like he's making this whole situation ten times harder for her on purpose.

"Negative." She says instead, standing up. "I'll have to make do with these clothes, forgot my spares were filthy." He studies her in that silent way for a beat, before he leans down and rummages through his pack.

Leaving him to do whatever, she pushes open the bathroom door while wondering how quickly her clothes would dry if she ran them under the tap-

"Here."

Ghost holds out a spare shirt to her. Plain black.

His.

"What?" It takes a second for her mind to catch up.

He cocks an eyebrow. "You're filthy. I'd rather not sleep next to someone who smells like shit."

The insult draws an indignant bark of a laugh from her, "I don't stink." She exclaims, snatching the shirt from his grip. "Not as bad as you do."

"Tell yourself that." He deadpans, but she swears she can see a hint of an amused smirk beneath his mask when she slams the door in his face.

Muttering to herself, she cleans up before slipping the shirt on. It's obviously large on her, just skimming the bottom of her thighs. It smells like him, something so distinct and familiar it makes her relax on instinct.

It's a wonder what good a hot shower can do for you.

Ghost is already stretched out on the mattress when she emerges from the room. He spares her a glance, and she visibly sees something like muted interest snap into his eyes even despite his lack of words.

She'd be lying if something in her doesn't preen at the way his eyes subtly follow her across the room.

Neither of them exchange a word as she slips into the covers next to him. Both of them barely fit on the mattress, but neither having the energy to complain. They don't brush against each other but if she shifted they'd definitely touch.

The room was secure, they'd done a thorough sweep and checked the doors and window, all the locks and for cameras. Nothing of interest, so they allowed themselves to let their guard down.

"Sharp 05:00 tomorrow, Sergeant." He says into the dark.

"Copy." She stifles a yawn and they fall into silence.

His heat is unbearable. She can't push the thought out of his mind, the knowledge that he's right there, a fingertip's distance away. She can hear his steady, quiet breath, almost taunting her.

Despite her exhaustion, she stays awake, turning onto her side away from him hoping that the movement would dislodge the thought from her mind. She needed sleep, needed to relax but isn't that impossible with how all she needs to do is lean back a little to touch him-

She huffs silently, turns onto her back again, rustling the sheets.

No, this was bad. Her body's tired but her mind and heart are racing. Traitors.

She shifts onto her side again-

"Fucking hell, will you stay still?" He rumbles, startling her. The gravelly, tired voice shoots straight to her head and if she were standing she's sure she'd have to grab onto something to stay upright.

She mumbles out an apology. "Can't sleep. Little chilly, isn't it?" She bluffs.

When he stays silent, she thinks he may have just accepted the answer. Letting out a shaky exhale, she turns again-

She freezes when he turns with her, a strong arm banding around her middle, holding her in place. "You gonna make me hold you in place?"

Bless whoever's up there for the dark because her face is burning.

"Would love that, actually." She mutters to herself before she can reign the impulsiveness in. Her body stiffens when she hears her own voice, and she's ready to spring up and apologise, tell him she didn't mean to make him uncomfortable, ready to banish herself to sleep on the floor.

But then Ghost hums.

His hand starts to drift. She swallows as he traces a slow path down to where his shirt's hem is, toying with the fabric between his fingers.

Dream, this must be a dream-

He tugs her backward into him, into his warmth and his soothing scent and something about it has her going completely boneless. It felt...comforting. Felt nice to be held. Ghost takes to tracing small circles into her skin, soothing and repetitive. "Relax." He orders, albeit with less of a push.

A shiver runs down her spine as she feels his breath fan over the back of his neck. The bastard notices too, if for the way his chest rumbles with a chuckle.

There's no way Ghost doesn't feel her heart pounding against him.

Maybe it was the comfort of the dark that makes the both of them so bold, but she takes in a shaky breath and reaches for his hand, stilling it in place with her own. They stay like that for a moment, and suddenly the silence isn't as unbearable.

Eventually, her breathing evens out, her eyes become heavy and she finds the tension draining out of her. Nothing would happen to her here, she didn't have to worry about anything right now. Just sleep. Just sleep and the warmth that enveloped her, and why the hell was he so warm and why does she want more of it?

Right before she lets the lull of sleep pull her under, she mumbles a whisper of thanks to him.

She doesn't think she imagines the content sound he lets out in response.

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(2/09/2023)

[luimagines]

You Give Him a Massage Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Hyrule, Legend and Sky

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

It was a long day. One that everyone nearly collapsing over themselves at the end of it. You were thankful that there wasn’t a lot battle that you had to do but that didn’t make it any harder to keep awake at the end of the day.

The group finally settled down to break camp but you couldn’t muster up the energy to help them sat anything up.

Looking around, it looked to be the general consensus of the rest of the group. No was willing to do anything. Wild takes out a flaming sword and makes the camp fire by striking a bunch of wood and calls it good.

He makes kabobs and that your meal for the night. 

You’re tired enough to find that you don’t really care for the lack of everything.

You sit by a tree, watching everyone half hazzardly throw round their bed rolls and flop into them for the night. You plan on staying up a little bit longer. At least until it finally becomes the hour your normally sleep at. You don’t plan on tossing away your sleep schedule that way. It would take weeks to get it back on track if you did. 

Wild goes to bed. Wind was the first to fall asleep. Sky follows his example within minutes. Warrior and Time struggle to decide which one of them goes to bed first since someone still has to take the first watch. Legend offers to do it just so they both shut up but he’s ignored.

Hyrule throws his bed roll close to you and flops down just like the others. It’s a little funny how similar they all are even if they don’t to do it. It makes you giggle

Hyrule looks up at the sound with a cross face. “What?”

“Nothing. Good night, Link.”

His face softens and he scoots closer to you. He places his head on your lap, making himself comfortable. You snort. “Better?”

“Yes.” He grins.

With an affectionate roll of your eyes, you put your hand sin his hair, carding through his locks gently before you start massing his scalp. You can see the way the stress of the day melts off of his with every pass of your hand. “...That’s nice...”

“Good night, Link.” You repeat yourself. Distantly, you think that you’re also going to have to sleep soon and you’re going to have to figure out how to get the boy off of you without waking him up- but that’s a problem for future you.

You keep massaging his scalp, taking quiet wonder at how soft his hair is despite the lack of up keep.

Your subtle, minute motions lulls you into a deep calm as well. You think you see Four awake still, even though he’s lying down. Twilight is also up against a tree on the other side of the camp but he’s huddled into himself. That’s going to be a horrible position to wake up if he stays asleep like that. You don’t want the same thing to happen to you.

You can feel yourself nodding off despite yourself.

You have to move Hyrule. You have to lay down before you also fall asleep against the tree. How do you move Hyrule without waking him up in the process?

You fall asleep with Hyrule still in your lap.

Legend

Legend growls somewhere off to your right.

You look over to him curiously.

Legend’s been rubbing the side of his head for a while now. His face is twisted in pain and his hair has been mused up in the process. His cheeks are pink and his hat is about to half off of his head from everything he’s doing.

You frown. “Legend, are you ok?”

He hisses but looks to you. In an instant his gaze softens when his eyes land on you. He had looked borderline angry before, but you’re thankful to know that it has nothing to do with you. “...I have a headache... hurts...”

You’re heart hurts for him. “How bad it is?”

“Bad.” He says. “I feel like someone is trying to cave in my skull with a hammer.”

You open your mouth.

“Not that anyone’s tried to do that before.” Legend eyes you tiredly before you can speak.

You press your lips into a thin line. Now’s not the time for poorly judged jokes. “I can help.”

Legend gets almost a pleading look on his face. “Really?”

“I can try.” You amend. Walking towards him, you take off his hat and urge him to sit down nearby. “Just let me know if you want me to stop, ok?”

“...ok..” He says, clearly willing to do anything if it means relief from his headache.

You start by gently running your hands through his hair. It takes a minute or two but Legend’s shoulder eventually fall from their hunched position. From there you start to rub small circles into his scalp, now that you’ve cleared away more of the tangles from his hair.

You start small, a little worried about the pressure you’d put on his already sore head but with time you gradually get firmer. You try to keep the pressure slow and steady, going in circles around his head.

It doesn’t take too long before you seem to find the area that’s been bugging him the most and focus in on it.

A small sound leaves Legend and you pause. “All good?”

“Mm-hm.” He hums and slowly moves his head this way and that. A beat passes and you see his face contort again.

You take that as your queue to start up again since the pain had returned. “Have you had any water today, Vet?”

You didn’t think he heard you until he finally makes a noise of acknowledgment. “...I think...”

“Hm.” You’re not impressed. “I’m going to go get you something to drink and if this happened because you were dehydrated then I’m going to yell at you.”

“Please don’t.”

“I make no promises.”

Sky

“Ow.”

You ignored it the first time.

“Ow.”

You ignored it the second time.

“Ow.” He hissed for the third time.

You sighed and looked over. “Sky? What on earth are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He bit his lip, trying to whittle a piece a wood into submission. You’re not entirely sure what it is he’s trying to make but he looks like he’s struggling with it. His hand makes a move and he hisses again. “Ow- by the three-!”

He drops the knife to his lap and cradles his hand. He seems to be pressing his thumb into the palm of his hand.

You move over to his side and take his hand. “You’re learning their figures of speech.”

“Completely on accident on assure you.” He growls, pouting as he watches your movements.

You bring his hand closer to you, tucking it close and slowly kneading into the palm of his hand. You can already see the problem. There’s a muscle out of place. Whether it’s twisted or stretched, you’re not sure. But it looks painful.

“How did you manage to do this?” You whisper to yourself, bordering on horrified.

Sky hears you anyway. “I’m not entirely sure. I just woke up this morning and it was like that. It doesn’t bother me too much, only when I move it a certain way.”

You grunt and keep up with kneading into his hand. Sky bites on his lip when you go particularly deep and squirms in his seat. You look up and tilt you head. “Hurt?”

“That time. Yes.” He keeps his hand limp in your hand at least, trying to not make it harder for you. “You don’t have to do this.”

“If someone doesn’t help you fix it, you’re going to make it worse.” You don’t leave room for argument. “What on earth are you thinking? Why would you be whittling? Clearly your hand needs to rest instead so that it can get better from whatever the hack happened to it.”

Sky at least has the decency to appear a little sheepish. “...I’m bored.”

“And dumb.” You flick his forehead.

“Hey now...”

“Hush.” You grin, not letting him defend himself. “It’s out of love and you know it.”

“Yes, I feel very loved right now.” Sky rolls his eyes, relaxing a little more as time goes by. Little by little, you’re moving the muscle in his hand back into place and it’s hurting him less and less. “...Thank you...”

You snort. “You’re very welcome.”

[diaconicon]

Could you write a connor stoll x daughter of Athena reader. Where connor watches the reader and another person do romantic kareoke and he gets jelous because he think the reader likes that person.

⬆️This was an anonymous ask, which I unfortunately lost because I accidently deleted it😭 I'm so sorry to whoever requested this, I hope you still find it in some way!

All my Loving

connor stoll x daughterofathena! reader

Summary: basically what the request says, made it a bit christmassy because its in less than a week (2 days now), and i miss the spirit

Warnings: none (I think), probs ooc everyone. We're just gonna ignore the fact that the Camp has the barrier that stops it from raining inside okay? I kind of forgot don't hate me love you guys xoxo. English isn't my first language, so there could be some errors

22nd of December. It was almost Christmas, and Camp Half-Blood was in a fuss between Christmas decorations, some of the campers packing to go back to their families the day after for the Holiday, and the preparations for the 24th and 25th for the other campers who would stay, everyone had something to do and somewhere to be, not leaving a lot of free time to wish everyone goodbye and a Merry Christmas.

Here came the Hermes Cabin, as always, to 'save the day' - as said by its residents. They decided to host a karaoke night on the 22nd as a sort of pre-Christmas celebration, so everyone could also enjoy it with their friends who would go away the next day.

Of course, everyone was invited - although it was still a mystery how the Hermes Cabin was always capable of pulling out all these big parties without getting in trouble - but you were still debating on whether to go or not, not being the most social type, and definitely not very inclined to be singing, but after contemplating for some minutes, you decided to cave in and go. Most of your half-brothers and sisters wouldn't be there, but, after all, Connor did ask you personally to come, saying that 'you would really do him a favour' because 'everyone was just so boring and no fun to be around', and you just couldn't say no to him, you were, besides, quite fond of both him and his brother and it would be rude to just not go.

I mean, you wouldn't have to sing anyways if you didn't want to, right? You could just go, have fun with your friends, have a few drinks, watch other people sing and, most importantly, spend a bit of time with Connor before you went back home to your family for the holiday's.

Well, you were wrong. Almost everything was going perfectly. You arrived at the cabin, said hello to some of your friends, poured yourself a drink, and then, as planned, you went to search for Connor, who you found in a corner next to his brother, who scattered away (not without tripping at least a few times) almost immediately after greeting you with a quick "Oh hello there, how are you? Everything okay? Hope you're enjoying yourself. Oh, just a minute, will you? I think someone's calling me - and then turning to his brother - catch you later, Con."

And that left just you and Connor alone, in an awkward silence. Although you were usually so talkative with him, it really wasn't so hard to open up when he was around. He always let you feel so comfortable without even trying, you guessed it was in his demeanour, the way he walked, the way he acted, you didn't know exactly, but he definitely wasn't much of an awkward person as you were, quite confident of himself, but quieter than his brother, calmer, which made him more likable in your opinion. He was fun to be around, very animated, but when needed, he could also be very sensible and almost a shoulder to cry on. He was just so.. warm, almost like the sun, or an oven! You weren't sure how to put it, but he did really remind you of freshly baked cookies, who were still warm ones out of the oven, but that you had to wait for to cool down before eating, otherwise it would be 'bad' for your stomach (at least according to your dad).

But maybe it was something in the air that night, the music was really loud and you already could barely hear yourself over the others singing, maybe it was Travis' abrupt disappearance, but neither of you said a word, not even a 'hello' or a 'how are you?' After some seconds, what must have felt like minutes, you decided to be the first one to break the silence, then you saw that he too wanted to say something, and opting to let him take the word instead, you leaned in to hear him better. But just then, some of your other friends called you, wanting you to come sing with them and even after making it pretty clear that you had no intention whatsoever of participating, they still dragged you out to the karaoke section, pretty much forcing you to sing at this point. Maybe you were exaggerating - well, you were definitely exaggerating - but at that moment, it felt like being processed to death, tragically waiting for a guillotine to cut your head off.

You didn't know how it happened, but you ended up having to sing a duet with some Apollo boy you didn't even know well, although quite cute in your opinion, you couldn't even seem to recall his name.

Not quite as bad as you thought it would be, the song went by really fast, and you could even say you had fun. After chatting a bit with the Apollo kid, finally remembering his name, and him suggesting to spend more time together once in a while, having enjoyed himself, you bid goodbye and immediately went back to find Connor, still a bit embarrassed by the public scene, which you still wished to have avoided.

Though, not being able to find Connor anywhere, you decided to ask his brother if he had seen him.

"Connor? I think I saw him going outside just a few minutes ago. If you see him, tell him to come inside quickly, will you? It's like freezing out there, and I don't even think he took his coat with him"

You thanked Travis, grabbed Connor's coat, which he left in the cabin (by demand of his older brother), and went outside as well, hoping to catch up with the latter, wherever he went to.

Travis was right. It was indeed freezing, and in the time you spent in the Hermes Cabin, it also had begun to snow. Realising this, your heart couldn't help but to warm up a little. You absolutely loved snow, especially in this time of the year, only adding more to the Christmas spirit already strong around the Camp.

You eventually found Connor after a while near the beach, the sand now mixing with the snow that was falling, secretly thanking the Gods that he didn't go into the forest or it would've been probably impossible to find him.

He was sitting on a random trench, with his back to you, looking out in the distance, to the stars or the sea you didn't know which, still not having noticed your presence behind him.

So, you carefully went up to him, anxious of approaching, like reaching out for a baby deer who would otherwise get scared if you were too loud. Not only that, but you were also anxious about what to say. He looked upset, and you didn't know why. For how much you tried, you just couldn't think of what could've made him so distressed. Was it something you said? Well, you didn't exactly say anything... was that it? Did he expect you to have said something? Had he wanted to tell you something before you were dragged away by your friends? Maybe it was just the change in the weather that affected him so much. It was always pretty warm at Camp anyway. Maybe it was something that had been going on all day, and you just didn't know. You only first saw him this evening, and he already looked pretty off.

Whatever it could've been, you decided to just go and rip the band-aid off. You would've to ask him directly what was wrong, so you could try and help and comfort him.

You were now not even a few steps behind him, but he was still oblivious of you being there (sometimes you asked yourself how he was still alive with how bad his hearing and reflexes were), so you extended your hand towards him, the one with which you were holding his coat, and poked him on his shoulder, finally capturing his attention.

'Here, put it on, your brother is going to kill us both if you don't', you said, referring to the jacket, trying to relieve some of the tension around the air.

He didn't protest and grabbed the jacket, but he still didn't say anything and turned away immediately, his face impassable.

You set next to him, and for a while, just looked at him, not saying anything. Anxiety filled your stomach up to the point you thought you were going to feel sick. He didn't look only upset anymore but actually mad. Angry. And you were so scared it had to do with something you did. In the fraction of time you used to contemplate on what to say and how to start the conversation you were clearly about to have, he beat you to it and started first.

'Well, thanks for the coat. You can go back now if you'd like', he said, irritated, not once looking at your direction but keeping his eyes fixed on a vanishing point which you still couldn't figure out.

'Is something wrong? You know if something happened you can just tell me, I'm here to help you you know. Just.. please, I don't like to see you like this. You know if it's something I did, I'm sorry, I didn't realise. But just tell me, okay? I'm so sorry if I hurt you in any way.' You were desperate at this point, just hoping this would end soon. You'd never seen Connor this upset, and it quite frankly scared you a bit.

But just then, his gaze softened. He just couldn't stay mad at you, not like this, not seeing how much stress this caused you. He wasn't even mad at you. He could never be mad at you, not even if his life depended on it, he thought.

'No, I'm sorry, okay. Really. Just forget about it, I'm overreacting. It's nothing'. Although his voice was sincere, he felt like he needed to say more than that, much more, if he wanted to make it better. 'Look.. it's just that.. well. Just give me a moment, will you? I need to think of how to say this right.' It was now his turn to feel anxious, and he started picking at everything he could find to keep calm. His nails, the wood on the trench you two were sitting on, the zipper of his jacket, and so on.

You weren't doing much better, shaking your legs up and down, picking at the skin of your lips, and basically dying of anxiety. If you were exaggerating before, now you definitely weren't. You would've preferred the guillotine over this at any moment.

'Yes, of course, take all the time that you need. I'm here for you.'

And after that, it fell silent. The only sound you could hear were the waves of the sea and the snow falling on the both of you, and in the distance, a bit of the long forgotten party going on in the Hermes Cabin. You were now only waiting for Connor to start speaking. You wanted to say patiently, but it was eating you up inside.

A few minutes went by, and you couldn't take it anymore. You were about to say something before he beat you to it again.

'Okay, so this isn't going to be easy to say, but I want you to listen to me until I'm done. Please. I know I'm not the best speaker in the world, and I really did want to make this more worthy of you, more meaningful, but I'm probably gonna mess things up, so I'm sorry in advance, but just try and listen, okay?' He began, carefully, and you just nodded, following his instruction and waiting for him to continue.

'Okay so, well, I thought this was honestly kind of obvious already - he said this with a smile - but I really like you, and I mean really, since at least a few years I think already. And seeing you with that Apollo kid, I don't know it just made me mad, I thought I couldn't stand a chance against someone like that, so much more talented and what not than me. And not only him, I mean everyone. You're just so perfect in every sense, and I know you could do so much better than me, so I got a bit self-conscious, but that's it. I'm so sorry for worrying you. It really wasn't my intention to be such a dick, but my emotions got the better of me.'

You were left speechless. You really didn't know what to say. Not even a sound could come out of your mouth at that point. Luckily, it didn't have to because Connor went on before you could even think of anything to say.

'No, wait, don't say anything yet. I'm not finished. I want to say it better. This is definitely not how I imagined this. You know I made up so many speeches in my head, practising on what I would tell you if ever came the right moment. But I forgot all of them now, so I'll just have to figure something out,

'I am every second more infatuated by your presence, by your kindness, your beauty. You leave me without breath every time that I see you, and every time, just a bit more than the day before. Every time I look up at the stars, I'm reminded of you, perplexed on how the Gods didn't take you as the inspiration of such creations. Every time I look up at the moon, I can't think of anything else other than how your beauty surpasses even hers, how the reflection of the moonlight on the water isn't just an allegory of you. Because it's something so beautiful that you just can't take your eyes off it. How honey isn't scraped directly from your voice because it's even more sweet and warm than a cup of tea. You fill me with joy of which I've never experienced before, which I didn't even know was real. I'm at every second more and more confused on how all of nature doesn't revolve around you, on how it wasn't created for you and because of you, for at every thing I look at I am every constant reminded of you. If I ever was to meet Aphrodite, I know she would take your appearance and, although I can't dare say you are more beautiful than her or you know what would happen, I can say that in this world and all the universe you are one of the Gods' most beautiful creations. That if it weren't for Prometheus, I would steal the fire just for you, and you only, to keep you warm from days like this one. To keep you warm like you do constantly to me, by just your mere presence, by just an insignificant conversation you could have with me, which I hold dear forever and never forget. What I'm trying to say is that I don't only like you, no... no. I would hold up the sky full of stars and galaxies for you, I would go up to the moon to retrieve your lost items for you, even just to see your smile, to see you happy, to know that you are content. For you have already stolen my soul and hold my heart, I couldn't sell it to the devil, but I would, just to let him promise me to always keep you safe, that nothing could ever touch or hurt you. For you only I think and plan, for you only I ever want to live on. I love you, I really do, and I only hope for you to love me back at your own pace and time. But I could never force you to do anything. If you don't reciprocate my feelings, let's forget about this. Just go on with our daily lives. A simple no, or just a shake of your head, will silence me forever, I won't ever bother you again, I promise. But if there's even just one chance, a little bit of hope that you could give me a try, please don't let me wait for too long. Because how I am to take even one second longer of this I do not know.'

And with this, he stopped talking. He went completely mute, now only waiting for your answer, for a little hope.

But you didn't know what to say, how could after such a speech, such a confession? Anything you would say, even if meaningful, would never compete to something such beautiful and utterly captivating as this.

So you opted for saying exactly that.

'Connor.. I.. I'm really speechless, I don't know what to say, no, everything I would say could never compete with what you just did. I'm so sorry, but I really don't know how to own up to that.' You said with the biggest smile you ever had, which started growing since Connor began to speak.

'No, don't worry about that, just tell me, please. A yes or a no would be sufficient enough.' The poor boy was so stressed, but you couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't you mocking him or anything like that. It was a genuinely happy laugh, like you've never had before. He also started laughing at this, being influenced by you.

'Stop laughing, I'm serious. You're making me sweat cold here.' He said, finally lighting up from his serious stance.

'I'm so sorry, but I just really can't see how you could've become this worked up only because I was singing Last Christmas with some guy. Like, really, from all the songs Last Christmas, that's not even classifiable as a real love song.' At this point, you just couldn't stop laughing, completely captivated, almost not being able to breathe anymore.

'Hey! That's not true. It's one of the greatest love songs ever written. And I'm honestly quite offended you didn't sing it with me, okay. You know how much I love Wham!' Saying this, he also kicked your leg playfully. Finally, the mood was completely lightened up. Now, the interaction being like one of the many you had every day.

'Okay, now on a serious note', you began, and you could see Connor tensing up again, 'yes. And a million times, yes. I really like you, Connor, and I've had probably since I came to this camp. I could even say that I love you too.. but maybe for that, I do need a bit of time. But I do want to give it a try, and more than one if need to. Just don't make anything like that up anymore. Otherwise, I'd just look like a bad girlfriend, okay? I can't even come up with a good speech to convince my dad to let me adopt a cat, even think of confessing my undying love for you. I just think I need a little bit more time than you, but I'll get there eventually, I promise. Just wait until you'll get a Jane Austen type letter under your pillow.' You finally said, as sincere as you could. You were truly so happy, and you think you've never been this happy ever in your life (at least not until your dad would finally cave in and let you get a cat).

Connor, too, was happy. Oh, so happy, he thought he could break out in some type of dance right there and walk up to the sky to get a handful of stars to gift to you. But that was impossible, so he opted to wrap an arm around you and let you rest your head on his shoulder.

And like that, you stayed for a while, just you two together under the snow looking up at the stars and into the horizon.

'Don't worry, if we ever move in together, we're gonna adopt not one cat, but at least twenty, be sure of that.' He said.

Okayy this is it! I really hope you like this. omg, it came out so much longer than I was expecting. Also im so sorry it took so long to write but I was really busy with school! Also im honestly very happy about the ending. Hope you guys like it!

[codenamesazanka]

They wouldn't tell him what happened to Shigaraki. Spinner asked, and asked, and asked. No one would tell him.

The room they put him in had no windows. When it wasn't time for medication or a check-up, he was strapped to the bed. Handcuffs jingled when he ate his meals.

The doctors and nurses were brisk and professional and completely silent when not giving orders or informing him how he was alive. If Spinner had ran over any of their colleagues, they never showed any hint of it.

But no one would tell him what happened to Shigaraki.

Dabi got defeated. Spinner remembered that. (Or so the Heroes said.) But he was fighting his own family. Toga had Twice's blood - an army ready to go. And Shigaraki...

He told Kurogiri to save them.

They're fine, Spinner thought. The fight is still going. (This became harder to believe with every three meal that came to him.)

They escaped, Spinner thought. They retreated. (They left him but that's fine. As long as they're far, far away, from the Heroes.) (From All For One.)

They've been captured—But they're alive. Dabi had his family. Toga was only 17. And Shigaraki...

Shigaraki took on an army and won the horizon. Shigaraki had eyes like a boy chasing after his dreams. Shigaraki smiled like nothing in the world will ever stop him.

(Shigaraki, burnt and bloody in his arms, refusing to wake up. Shigaraki, twisting on rocky ground off the cave, bruises and scratches healing as soon as they form. Shigaraki, looking at him and not seeing, but All For One said he was still himself.)

Shigaraki, Spinner thought. You're alive. You're still alive. As long as you're still alive, I...

(He begged Kurogiri to save him.)

17 meals after he first woke up, the doctors put Spinner in a wheelchair to push him somewhere. Down one hallway, then another, and that's when he heard the TV.

"...of Shigaraki Tomura...."

There was no force in the world that could stop Spinner in that moment. This time he might have ran over someone for real. He wasn't sure.

The TV cracked in his hands, fuzzy rainbow lines rippling all across screen, [WARNING SOME VIEWERS MAY FIND THIS VIDEO DISTURBING], but Spinner could still see everything. Shigaraki-Not-Shigaraki, hand back on his face, but not the right one, not The Hand. The plain boy Hero, from the Stain video, from the camp raid, the one he told Magne to spare.

("That's just something personal for Shigaraki," Spinner had said. He hadn't cared, back then.)

Shigaraki-Not-Shigaraki, but it was still his body. Half gone, speared a hundred spikes, but his hair—still his hair, long and feathery in the wind. Where was Kurogiri? Spinner had begged. Shigaraki, breaking into pieces, but still moving, (twisting and screaming, Spinner's touch completely useless, All For One peering down at them, help him, gotta help him)

Help him. Stain•Hero•Boy•Hero•Real•True. Save him. Just save him, save Shigaraki, save my—

The boy punched.

Shigaraki shattered.

Spinner threw up until he was empty.

[fallenclan]

RAVENSTAR’S APOLOGY

A fic by buttercup-unlimited :3

Author’s note: Here’s me drabbling for a while. Sorry if I get any lore/pronouns wrong, I’m trying my hardest but I am very tired 😭

The cave was vast and looming, the cracked rock face seeming to climb endlessly into the inky blackness above. A single word could echo dozens of times around these walls, spreading like a whispered rumour into the ear of another. The air hung heavy with bitter cold and silence, spare the eerie rustling of shrubbery from the clearing and the occasional warning call of a nearby bird.

Leaders of Fallenclan’s past only ever tended to use part of the intimidating space as a sleeping den, preferring to make their nests in a smaller corner and keep warmth in for as long as they could. Goldenstar infamously allowed kits to play in the space he left unused, simply stating that whatever was his, was the clan’s. Even Maplestar picked merely a decent chasm to curl up into, never needing anything more. Every leader that had come before, in fact, hadn’t dared to flaunt such a cathedral all for themselves.

But Ravenstar was nothing like the leaders that had come before. No, he was stronger. Smarter. Shrewder. Grander. The day that he had received his nine lives, Ravenstar had returned to camp to make a very deliberate show of slowly building his nest, twig by twig, in the very centre of the den. A statement, if you will, the marking of what was very clearly now his territory. His eyes had glowed in a strange sort of way that day. Forebodingly. If you looked close enough, you just might have seen the rush of power going straight to Ravenstar’s head. Leadership had that effect on some cats.

Littleleaf had been there. Every day, since they were born, Littleleaf had been by Ravenstar’s side. He had watched him through his apprenticeship, arguing with his mentor at even the most trivial of things. Older cats would often say that he was a strong-willed fellow, well suited for a powerful position one day. If only they had known who he would become.

Ravenstar had lost everything except Littleleaf. The two brothers were the only thing tying one another to reality, saving each other from fluttering away in the breeze—like a leaf under a rock, safe…and yet stifled.

“Ravenstar?”

Even the name bore a sense of importance, of tension. Littleleaf regretted the call as soon as he had uttered it, not helped by the constant repeat of his word as it travelled up the gossiping walls of the cave. He felt so small, so insignificant, in this place. Something about its legacy was an all-too-cruel reminder of the fleeting nature of existence—Littleleaf almost felt as if he could drop dead right there, on the ground, and it would only be a flashing moment in time.

He took a few tentative steps forward, careful not too make too much noise on the cold stone floor. Most of the den was hidden in shadow, daring any cat who wasn’t Ravenstar to even attempt to venture further.

“Do you have any time to talk? I have some news…” Littleleaf tried again, cringing at how easy it was to boom in these chambers.

“News? This should be interesting.” A voice drawled from behind him, causing Littleleaf to flinch as he turned. Ravenstar had perched himself on a jutted-out rock somewhere high up the wall, his tail tucked neatly over his paws as he observed.

“Oh, hello. You frightened me, brother.” Littleleaf chuckled nervously. Something about their relationship, usually so close and easy, had felt strained as of recently. It was no longer so easy to approach Ravenstar.

The Fallenclan leader smiled, eyes glinting maliciously. His black pelt blended in perfectly with the shadows of the rock face, almost like they had belonged here all along. This was Ravenstar’s home now, and there could be no dispute about that.

“Sincerest apologies. I’m waiting…?” The leader mewed coolly. It was clear that he had no time for small talk, not even with his kin.

“Right. Of course. Well, we weren’t sure when to tell you, but…here we go.” Littleleaf took a deep breath. It was awkward, trying to give news to someone several feet above you. “Moorthistle is expecting kits. You’re going to be an uncle.”

Boom.

A million thoughts seemed to rush through Ravenstar’s head all at once. The coolly composed tomcat, usually so calm and purposeful in his mannerisms, seemed to struggle to maintain his balance from his vantage point as he took in the news. His facade flickered, just enough for Littleleaf to notice, and for a second or two Ravenstar was just a confused young tom again.

“Kits.” Ravenstar repeated, bright eyes darting to just about every corner of the den. “Kits, belonging to you and to Moorthistle. In Fallenclan.”

Littleleaf nodded distractedly, craning his neck to get a better look at his brother. “Yes, I…are you alright, Ravenstar? You look rather shocked.”

Ravenstar seemed to snap back to attention all of a sudden, jolted back to life by the attention of his brother, momentary crisis over as soon as it had began. He straightened his neck, focused his gaze and gave his chest a few calming licks, whispering something inaudible to himself.

“Yes.” Ravenstar eventually replied, keeping his answers concise and dry—he was back to normal, indeed. “I’m fine thank you, brother. I was taken by surprise, is all.”

Littleleaf nodded. “Alright, then.”

There seemed to be eons of silence between the brothers, both unsure of what to say next. When did it become so hard to conversate?

It was only when Littleleaf seemed to be on the verge of turning and leaving that Ravenstar spoke again, blurting words in a hurry as if in an attempt to make him stay.

“This is very good news, Littleleaf.” He mewed loudly. “More kin for you and I. More kits for Fallenclan. I’m sure…I’m sure that they will grow up to be fine warriors. May Starclan bless you.”

Littleleaf knew the words were intended for comfort, but all he could find within himself to feel was hurt. Why was his brother, so high and mighty now on his pretentious throne of rock, speaking to him as if he were any other old aquaintance?

“Why do you hold me so far from your heart, brother?” Littleleaf asked before he could stop himself. He wished that he had stayed silent, seeing Ravenstar’s false smile drop. The last thing he needed for himself and Moorthistle was tension with the leader of their clan.

Ravenstar narrowed his glowing eyes, looking bemused at best. “What exactly do you mean?”

Littleleaf shook his head, suddenly feeling very warm under the roasting heat of Ravenstar’s gaze. “I didn’t mean anything. I was just thinking out loud, really, don’t listen to me…”

Ravenstar did not look convinced. As if deciding something to himself, the sleek black tom began to leap nimbly down to meet his brother on the cave floor. Was he going to berate him? Banish him? …Hug him? Littleleaf wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

They stood face to face for the first time in what felt like moons. Equal, it appeared, if only for a moment in time. Littleleaf often forgot that he was larger than his brother—because, in so many other ways, he was not.

“I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Littleleaf apologised, trying to back out of the hole he had dug himself into. He had never believed Ravenstar guilty of the crimes some suggested he had committed, but he didn’t intend on finding out if the accusations were truthful tonight.

“No. I’m the one who should apologise.” Ravenstar insisted suddenly, taking Littleleaf by surprise. “I… am sorry, brother. “

Littleleaf practically sputtered. This was the first time he had ever been apologised to by his brother, and most probably the last. He felt that the occasion should become an annual celebration.

“I know I have been distant, as of late. Partly because of my new duties, but also…” Ravenstar let out a laboured sigh, full of tension and grief that Littleleaf didn’t even know he possessed. “I care very much for you. More than you know. But it’s difficult for me. I see so much of them…in you.”

Littleleaf didn’t need to ask who his brother was referring to. “I see them, too. Everywhere.” He half-whispered.

Ravenstar held up a tail to silence his brother—an old leader tactic used to indicate that he was not yet finished saying his peace.

“I wanted to protect you. Show you how strong I could be on my own. I wanted to be the best I could be for you, Littleleaf. I am sorry if this meant sacrificing the time we used to spend together.” Ravenstar confessed. It was clearly difficult for the leader to talk about his feelings for such a prolonged period of time.

Littleleaf stroked his tail along his brother’s back comfortingly, the way he had when they were kits. “Thank you.” He murmured.

Ravenstar inclined his head. “I am happy for you, Littleleaf. You will make a great father. And perhaps…perhaps I will make a great uncle.”

Littleleaf wasn’t sure what to say. Was there anything he could say?

Perhaps, in this fleeting moment in time, all Ravenstar needed was a shoulder to lean on.

(Beetle note: THIS IS SO GOOD!!!! i love the exploration of Raven and Little's relationship,,, its so awesome)

[ranchracoon]

Blood and Shadows

Dimitrescu Sisters x Fem Character

requested by: Sereniiiiiii

Lila blows into her gloved hands to try and warm her nose as she squats down by a nearby tree with a view of the entire village. She removes one glove, carefully fishing out the note with written instructions and a drawn picture of the village before her. This isn't the first time she's been hired by a secretive person; she's learned the hard way that most of her 'secret' cliental are usually people of great power. Hence why they can afford the secrecy. This contract was unlike any she had been given before; the contract itself included a ticket to Romania, instructions for finding a mountain pass, and the drawing with a note stating she would be given further instructions. At first she didn't want to do it, but the pay was too good to turn down, and her own curiosity won over her logic. 

She shoves the note back into her pocket and reunites her glove and hand all while shifting on her feet slightly. It's going to be dark soon, she should make camp or find somewhere to shelter from the snow. As she stands a crow overhead startles her when it caws up above, and with in another letter slowly floats down toward her feet. She scoops it up and rips it open, looking around briefly to see if she could find anyone. How did they know she was here? Specifically in this location? She shakes her head and reads the note, there's one drawing of the castle, another of a dagger, and what looks to be a map of sorts to where the dagger is. On the back of the picture is some poorly written words that are hard to make out.

"Bring me the dagger."

How specific. 

Lila huffs and shoves the new orders with the old and hugs herself as she examines the castle from a distance. It's getting too late now, so she'll have to examine the castle in the morning when she can approach without being seen. She would prefer to do this quietly, but if she has a good enough layout of the castle, it should be plausible. As the sun lowers she hears the monsters of the woods stir, beasts that she's never seen before and can only be described as 'werewolves.' She did notice the closer she got the village, the less she encountered but she'll take no chances and decides to camp out up in the nearby tree. 

Her sleeping bag provides little relief from the cold, especially once night falls and she shivers violently. She has to find somewhere warmer otherwise she'll die of hypothermia before she even reaches the castle. She sleeps very little, waking every time she hears a growl or footprints in the snow below but she knows better than to engage. 

*          *          *

Lila spends all day searching the castle grounds, it took her half a day just to get to the castle undetected. Scaling a rock wall while cold, sore, and tired did not help any. Just as she was about to give up she finds a caved in hole in the ground leading downward. Better than nothing. She climbs down the rumble carefully, cursing every time a rockslides loose and knocks downward, loosening other rocks in its path. Once she's on solid ground she scurries away from the pile as fast as she can only to be met with complete darkness. Great. She kneels and scrounges through her bag until she finds some matches, striking one to light her path until she finds an old torch. Talk about medieval. The torch illuminates her path but now she regrets doing such as she finds herself in the middle of a torcher chamber. 

Rows upon rows of cell doors each with their own little horror; stretching machines, chains, iron chairs with spikes, everything one can imagine. All of them have distinct brown splattering, and some red meaning these were used recently. Fuck. What has she gotten herself into? She takes a few steps forward only to stop again when she hears metal scraping on the stone flooring. She lifts the torch up further before a skeletal figure appears with its sword raised. Lila yelps and dodges the attack, groaning softly. Now she really wishes she wasn't so cold and tired. Her reflexes aren't as fast, but she's faster than this creature at least. 

She hightails it in the opposite direction toward the rumble pile seeing a set of stairs faintly in the back. As she climbs the staircase, she pauses upon hearing a droning sound getting progressively louder. She quickly douses the torch and runs down taking a sharp turn into one of the cells where she tucks herself into one of the little crevices. As she sits there listening to the droning get closer, she sees one of those creatures lying face down in front of her. When the droning stops it's replaced by hurried footsteps and the sound of something hitting another followed by a thud and clanging. It must have been the creature from earlier, but now the other creature in front of her stirs awake. Growling and snarling as it slowly rises to its feet.

"Ugh just the moroaica acting up again" it's a female voice. 

The footsteps fade down the corridor then back toward the cell where Lila holds her breath as the footsteps stop. She stares at the creature, the moroaica? Now it's on its feet, staggering and snarling with a sword dragging behind it. 

"Wait a minute"

There's a long deep breath in. 

"Hmm smells like there might be a morsel down here that isn't supposed to be."

There's a few more steps toward her cell. Lila's eyes dart to the edge of the cell door and back to the creature as the woman approaches. The woman is just outside the cell door and Lila can see the edge of a curved weapon clang against the bars. The moroaica is now limping its way toward her direction, snarling louder and heaving the sword clearly too big for it to hold. 

"Bela!" A booming voice loud enough to be heard even through the concrete walls. 

"Argh! I never get to have any fun" the woman whines. 

Lila listens to the droning pick up again and just as the creature is about to slam its sword down she ducks and rolls out of the way. That woman could smell her, and hear her. She'll have to take other precautions if she wants to move about undetected. She tackles the creature from behind and easily disarms it, taking the sword and cutting the creature in half leaving it laying there lifelessly. Before her very eyes the creature dissolves into a pile of ash but the cloak it wore remains which was her main goal. She tosses the sword aside and removes her pack, then she strips her outer layer and stuffs it into the pack before stashing it. She decides to travel light with only her hunting knife, the map, and backup knife before adorning the creature's cloak to hide her scent.

She climbs the stairs and finds herself in a pantry leading to a kitchen where she quickly goes back around the corner to hide. There's people working in the kitchen meaning she's not going to get anywhere quickly. So she waits. 

*          *          *

After she deemed the staff went to bed for the night, Lila climbs out of her hiding place and continues to follow the instructions on the map. She cuts through the kitchen, the dining room, takes a right, and goes straight forward. She found the door where the dagger is supposed to be, but of course it's locked. This means she'll have to search for a key and most likely whomever that booming voice came from. Lila checks every door she can, only finding one that's unlocked and leading to a long hallway. As she walks down it, she hears that low droning again getting louder, and fast. She looks around quickly for anywhere to hide but it's useless, so she twists on her heels and runs back out the door into the main hallway. The droning turns out to be hundreds, if not thousands of insects all swarming into one black mass. She shivers and watches as the mass takes shape into a person. A woman to be specific. The woman wields a sickle in one hand, and judging from the blood stained on her face she is NOT friendly. 

"Well well well, looks like someone is out past curfew." The woman chuckles. 

The woman swarms her direction with her sickle raised, Lila dodges and rolls to the side, the sickle barely missing her. The woman swings her sickle again violently, this time narrowly avoiding Lila's head. The insects cloud her vision, many of them nip and bite her skin making her slap where she feels a sudden sting. 

"Ouch that hurts" the woman whines sarcastically. 

As Lila gets to her feet the woman grabs her and pins her up onto a nearby wall, getting a better look at who defied the rules.

"Wait-you're not a maid!"

While the woman looks at Lila, she takes the opportunity to take out her hunting knife and slam the butt into the oil lantern above her head. The woman releases her and shields her face from the fiery sparks, giving Lila the perfect opening of escape. She runs down the stairwell, through the double doors, and tries the door to the courtyard. Locked of course. Kitchen it is. Lila returns to the kitchen but is cut off once more by the woman. Lila shoves the table between them in her direction but the woman swarms to avoid it, chasing Lila now into the pantry way where she blocks the exit again. Lila strikes with her knife but the woman easily blocks it with her sickle, throwing Lila back. With her loss of footing, the woman advances and shoves her onto a nearby table in front of the windows.

"I like it when they fight back." The woman chuckles. 

Lila cannot help the rush of heat to her cheeks. Why is she getting flustered now? She shakes her head and she eyes the window. An escape? Lila holds her knife up to keep the woman's sickle at bay while her other hand pulls at the woman's hand around her throat. She has to think of something quick. She tries to kick with her legs but they just go right through the woman's form. The table shakes from the weight and gives her an idea. Lila jolts her body violently, sending the woman off balance and giving her enough time to reach up and unlatch the window. With one firm shove she gets the window open. Behind her the woman screams loudly but Lila doesn't look back as she tries to jump through the window, only to be forcibly yanked back and thrown across the room. Lila coughs and grunts as a searing pain runs up her back from slamming into the shelving, as she looks up she sees the woman in a solid form.

The woman yells and her eyes lock onto Lila, now filled with more murderous rage if possible. Lila pats the ground beside her, searching for her knife or anything at this point and only finding a can of food. The woman is weakened by the cold. Lila throws the can with all her might; the woman easily dodges which is exactly what Lila planned as the can crashes through another window. Now the woman screams again and this time she charges Lila, grabbing her by the neck and raising her sickle ready to strike. The woman is solid now, Lila rears up and kicks with both feet the woman in the chest, making her drop Lila. 

She goes for the sickle; her and the woman struggle back and forth until the woman lunges forward and bites Lila on the shoulder. Lila screams and elbows the woman, the two of them going back and forth in a dangerous tango, another hot searing pain rips through her back leg as she screams and falls to her knees. She looks over to see another woman, a carbon copy of the first only with blond hair instead of black. She too has a sickle now buried deeply into Lila's thigh. Lila whimpers and lays on the cold stone floor, watching the two women slowly circle her before she gives into the exhaustion and pain.

*          *          *

When Lila wakes the first thing she notices is the intense pain in her leg, she reaches down and grimaces when her fingers brush against the wound. However, she finds it bandaged which is a good sign. The second thing she notices is she's not in the torture chambers, rather she's in a large room with ornate decorations and intricate designs. The roaring fire heats her aching body but now she shifts uncomfortably from how sweaty she is. When she tries to stand she instantly falls due to the weakness in her leg, so she decides to scoot away from the fire to get some relief. The door across the room opens with a loud thud, Lila startles and looks over to see an extremely tall woman crouching through before standing to her full height. 

"Nice of you to finally join us."

Us?

Lila leans over to see three women following her, all of them dressed similarly and now she recognizes one of them as the dark haired woman she fought. That woman locks eyes with Lila and flashes her teeth in the form of a grimace. Obviously there's still some hard feelings. The tall woman walks around and sits in a chair built for her size, in her hand is Lila's pack which looks humorously small in her hand. She tosses the pack at Lila who catches it with a grunt then looks back up at the woman. 

"I'm rather impressed you managed to sneak in undetected, because of that I will give you two choices: answer my questions honestly and I'll consider letting you leave, or I'll have my daughters pry the answers out of you."

"I have nothing to hide" Lila answers honestly. All of this isn't worth all the money in the world. 

"What's your name?"

"Lila Stromerst."

"Good. Starting on the right foot already. Why are you here?"

"I was given orders to obtain a dagger located in this castle."

"By who?"

"I don't know. I have the orders with me. You can look for yourself, there's no name or anything associated with them."

"I know."

There's a pregnant pause. The three women in cloaks shift restlessly as the woman crosses her legs and looks Lila over. 

"So you take orders by the highest bidder, does that seem accurate?"

"I have to survive somehow."

"That's not what I asked."

"I suppose so, yes."

The woman tilts her head slightly, "so if I paid you to tell me everything you know about this castle and the dagger, would you?"

"If I'm to be honest it would be wasted money. It seems you've already gone through my belongings, so you have all the information I do. I don't know anything. I'm not paid to ask questions."

"Like a true mercenary. Then tell me, did your orders include harming myself and my daughters?"

"No. I wasn't instructed to kill anyone. I usually try to avoid conflict. What's the point of these questions? You already have everything" Lile motions with her head to her pack sitting by the woman's feet.

"Yes, I wanted to see if you would be honest or not. Your honesty might have saved you this time."

The woman stands and walks past the three women, "very well. Introduce yourselves girls and show her where the staff quarters are."

"Wait-you said I could leave!" Lila attempts to stand, failing once more.

"I said I would consider it. I considered, and decided that someone with your experience would be better suited under my watchful eye. Play nice daughters."

*          *          *

Months pass. At least, she thinks they have. Lila lost count after about 27 days, or maybe 28 days, she can't remember. The moment her leg healed she was put to work but not in the same capacity as the other workers. The girls, whom she learned to be Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, watch her every moment of the day. Bela studies her like a lab rat; asking her questions about the outside world, her work, missions she's been on. Cassandra puts her to work on meaningless tasks: sharpen her weapons, clean them, organize her things, organize them again. Daniela lets her just exist, she's hard to follow most days because her mood changes so rapidly but Lila has learned she's very easy to sway one way or the other. They rotate who watches her and she's slowly learned what pisses them off, and how to suck up to them. Bela hates attitude, and if she suspects any kind of attitude then she makes Lila do exercises just like when Lila was in school. 

Daniela is emotionally motived. Her mood is dependent on how she's interacted with her sisters, or her current read. Usually when she's in a bad mood Lila can tell her the plot of a movie which captivates her attention instantly. She especially loves the romance movies that Lila can recite which is not many, most of them she makes up as she goes. Cassandra is fun to mess with. Lila knows exactly how to get under her skin. Lila and her often get into screaming matches about who actually won the fight which landed her in her current mess; a rematch. Cassandra swings her sickle, slashing the air to warm herself up while Lila opted for a small sword. She hasn't dueled since she did fencing in junior high, but she's scrappy and prefers to move quickly. Cassandra agreed to do the duel outside where she can't swarm to make it neutral ground. Bela is of course the judge, and Daniela is the lookout for their mother. 

Cassandra is the first to strike of course, she's impulsive but fast even while unable to swarm. She also has supernatural strength which Lila will have to use to her advantage. Lila dodges and swings her sword toward Cassandra's legs, but she dodges the attack then swings her own weapon. Lila blocks. The clash of metal on metal ignites a few sparks, Cassandra struck so hard it left a chip in Lila's sword. She has to disarm her somehow. Cassandra is pushing her further down, Lila braces on her back and kicks her legs up, pushing and throwing Cassandra over her. Cassandra lands with a hard thud on her back, but her and Lila spring to their feet simultaneously. Cassandra chases after Lila who runs for cover in the gazebo, using the large blocks of stone to hide behind. 

"Stop hiding coward! This is supposed to be a fight! Fight back!"

Lila steps out and sees Cassandra raise her sickle up above her head, she waits for her to swing it downward before dodging. The sickle lands firmly in the stone pillar, and even Cassandra is unable to pull it out. Lila brings her sword up and slices upward, Cassandra barely has time to react, the sword grazing her as she pulls back. Leaving her sickle stuck in the pillar. Cassandra can still fight. She goes for the tackle, taking Lila down and knocking the sword out of her hand making them on the same terms. Cassandra uses her claw like nails to scratch but Lila blocks with her arms before she bucks her hips and rolls them over. She slams her fist down, hitting Cassandra square in the face.

"Enough!"

Lady Dimitrescu, the very tall lady, approaches with hurried steps, grabbing Lila by the waist and tossing her aside. She coughs loudly as she lands hard on the concrete, Cassandra stands up and growls looking over her shoulder. 

"Daniela! You were supposed to signal us!"

"I know, I'm sorry! The fight was just too interesting not to watch."

"Honestly, wasn't sure if you two were gonna fight or fuck for a minute" quips Bela.

"She wishes" spits Lila.

"Don't think this is over" screams Cassandra.

"This is over! Cassandra my office now! Bela, take the pest down to the dungeon."

It's not the first time Lady Dimitrescu has sent her down to the cells, and certainly won't be the last either. However, Lila stashed her hunting knife, some flint, and a piece of soft wood from the last few times she got sent down there. So, at least now while she waits she has something to do. She works the wood in the dim firelight until she hears a humming drone from outside, she looks over to see Daniela opening the gate to the cell. In her arms is a first aid kit and some food, she kneels in front of Lila and smiles brightly. Lila smiles back and chuckles softly as Daniela examines her for any injuries, as she's done every time Lila has been sent down to the dungeon. 

"I'm fine Daniela. Cassandra didn't get me this time."

"Still, I gotta look. I also brought you some food. Who know how long mother will keep you down here this time. She's pretty angry with Cassandra."

"Well, mind keeping me company for now?"

"Anytime."

Daniela scoots next to her, using her radiant body heat to keep herself warm as she watches Lila carve the soft wood. Eventually Bela comes to release Lila, finding her and Daniela snuggled together for warmth in the cold, dark cell.

*          *          *

She hates to admit it, but she's grown kind of fond of Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. Maybe it's Stockholm, but she finds she enjoys their company. Sometimes. Cassandra no longer tries to kill her or challenge her, but she does frequently use her as a sparing partner. Daniela loves hearing stories about Lila's adventures, and the many, many movies she knows by heart. Bela is the coldest. She's analytical, factual, and she still views Lila as what she is: a threat. Even Lady Dimitrescu warmed up faster than her oldest daughter. She doesn't yell at Lila as much which she considers a win, and she's starting calling her by her name rather than 'pest,' 'intruder,' or her favorite 'stupid thing.

 The staff give her a wide berth, many of them mumbling under their breath about how she can freely roam. If any of them even thought about talking back to the ladies, they would find themselves on the business end of a sickle. Lila on the other hand, has nothing to lose considering she's stuck here so she pokes and prods as much as she can. Bela is with her today, keeping a close eye and to make sure she doesn't cause anymore issues. She's a tough nut to crack, but Lila's determined to find her soft spot. 

"So...what do you like to do for fun?" Lila asks. 

"Shut up" Bela snaps. 

Lila scoffs and rolls her eyes. She's been here for how long and Bela still won't engage in conversation. Lila pauses upon seeing a passageway she hadn't seen before, she's pretty much scouted this entire castle by now but she's never been down here before. Lila tilts her head and starts walking before she's forcibly grabbed by the arm and tossed onto the ground. 

"Hey! What the hell was that for?" Lila snaps. 

Bela simply narrows her eyes down at her, indicating she won't give any information. Lila has all but forgotten about obtaining the dagger, but Bela is still suspicious. The second an opportunity opens Lila will dart, like a house cat wanting to be outside. Bela continues walking but pauses before looking down the hallway again, Lila climbs to her feet and listens as well. Bela takes her sickle out as a nearby window bursts open and a dark figure stomps on the ground. He pulls out a gun and aims but Bela is quicker even with the rushing cold air. She slices up, her blade going clean through his arm, he screams out as hot blood gushes from the wound. 

Numerous others break through the glass, Lila looks between the intruders and Bela then the broken glass. She could easily slip through and climb down via the rope they swung in on. Lila watches Bela move slower and slower as the cold freezes her body, if she doesn't act Bela will die. Lila groans loudly and grabs the fallen gun from the dismembered arm, she aims and shoots. She hates guns. She prefers quieter weapons and the recoil makes her miss the first shot but captures the attention of a few intruders. Lila shoots more, dodging one of them who swings at her. She manages to injure enough of them for Bela to finish the job, the last one shoots and grazes Bela, making a large hole appear in her side. Lila aims again and pulls the trigger to find the gun empty. 

Bela falls to her knees, unable to move much more as the intruder approaches. Lila throws the gun with all her might, hitting the assailant square in the head giving Bela enough time to swing and hit their leg. Lila runs up and straddles the intruder, slamming her hunting knife through the eye, the blood bursts and splatters across Lila's face. She pants heavily and slowly removes the hood from the intruder. She gasps and stares down at the familiar face, as she looks over the body she sees a note sticking out of the side pocket; addressed to her. 

Lila takes the note and reads it, 'join us and we'll let you go.' Lila knows this handwriting, it's the same writing as the orders she was given to first obtain the dagger. She crumples the note and stands on shaky legs before she's, once again, grabbed and pinned to a nearby wall. Bela holds her sickle up to Lila's throat, hard enough the sharp edge cuts the soft tissue lightly. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Bela growls. 

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice."

"Why did you help me? Why didn't you run? Did you have anything to do with this?"

"No! I swear. I-" Lila hesitates, her mind spinning a million miles a minute but Bela didn't like the hesitation. 

Bela drops Lila to the ground, growling lowly as she holds her side in pain. She looks toward the unhooded figure then back at Lila. 

"You know them" she states matter of factly. 

"I do."

"Who are they?"

"Family."

*          *          *

Lila twiddles her fingers as she sits in the office of Lady Dimitrescu, she looks downward at her missing pinkie finger as she sighs heavily. The doors open to reveal Lady Dimitrescu with her daughters in tow. Daniela, sweet, caring Daniela who Lila considers a close friend now comes swarming over to her. She cups her face and examines you to make sure she is okay before Cassandra starts bombarding Lila with questions about the fight. Bela is the last to enter, moving slowly but looking better than before as she takes a seat beside her mother, not looking in Lila's direction. 

"You have some explaining to do, and if I sense even a hint of lying" Lady Dimitrescu flexes her fingers as long sharp claws elongate, Lila flinches back having never seen those before.

Lila nods her head quickly in understanding. 

"Who are these intruders? Bela says you know them. Did you bring them here?"

"No I didn't. To be honest I didn't think they'd find me out here."

"Tell me everything. Now."

"I was orphaned from a young age. I got involved in the wrong crowd and found myself in some hefty debts that needed to be paid. I started taking odd jobs which landed me a slurry of enemies, and I ended up betrayed by those closest to me. Those I considered family. Now I'm being hunted by them because they think I'm the one in the wrong. I thought I lost them long ago but it seems they've found me. Again."

"I need to inform Mother Miranda of this. As for you, you will tell me everything you know about them when I return. Cassandra, search the castle for any others that might have gotten through and for any weak spots. Daniela I need you to interrogate the staff, one of them must know something."

Daniela gives Lila a quick kiss on the cheek before swarming off. Cassandra narrows her eyes at Lila before she too swarms away, leaving Lila and Bela alone. Bela shifts uncomfortably as she looks toward the fire then sighs. 

"You never answered my questions from before."

"Hm?"

"Why did you help me? You could have easily ran off, escaped, but you didn't."

Lila looks at her hand once more, "I guess I'm just tired of running. I'm supposed to be a prisoner here yet, I feel oddly welcomed. I consider Daniela a friend, Cassandra an equal, and you, well, I don't know you enough to label you as anything. I've grown fond of you three. I guess...I didn't want to make the same mistake twice."

"Did they do that?" She asks, motioning to Lila's hand.

"No. I did. I planted it after my last job that went wrong, hoping they would think I was injured or died. It bought me at least five years of solitude until now. I don't know how they found me."

"Can I ask what happened? Why are they hunting you?"

Tears start to form in Lila's eyes, "I had a little sister, not a biological one, but she was orphaned around the same time as me. I did these jobs, earned all this money to try and pay back my debts. Worked myself to death so she wouldn't ever have to experience what I did. Then this rich tycoon fucker found her and -" Lila sniffles and sobs quietly, "be said he would release her if I betrayed the mercenary group I called family. He promised."

Lila covers her eyes until she feels a presence next to her, when she looks up through blurry, tear stained eyes, she sees Bela sitting beside her. She has one arm around Lila's shoulders, pulling her closely to her uninjured side. Lila couldn't help but lean into her and sob into her shoulder as the fire crackled in the background.

*          *          *

Daniela discovered one of the maids was communicating with someone outside the castle, and somehow word of Lila got to outside sources. That maid was quickly dispatched of, and no word has been heard from this Mother Miranda that Lady Dimitrescu keeps talking about. Cassandra preps her weapons for when the rest of the mercenary group attacks, which according to the maid, will be in a few days. Lila and Bela spend time reenforcing the windows to make sure no one can break through them again. At night, Daniela sneaks into Lila's room claiming that her room is 'too cold' even with the fire and wants to use Lila's heat instead. Cassandra has also been hovering closely when Lila is working alone.

The day arrives when the attack is supposed to happen, Lila waits in the main hallway with all three Dimitrescus and Lady Dimitrescu in the room adjacent to them. There's only silence. Lila hates silence, it makes her nervous and fidgety. Just as expected the group bursts through the hallway door, half of them in the room with Lady Dimitrescu, and the other half with Lila and the girls. Cassandra cackles loudly as she swarms in for the attack, followed by Daniela and Bela. 

Lila opted for a short sword and crossbow, using the bow to knock guns out of hands but the bullets did nothing for the daughters. The fight was brutal. Blood stained the wooden flooring and it looked as though they were winning. Lady Dimitrescu could cut through three intruders at a time while her daughters took down one after another. In the time it would take Lila to take down one, they would take down 8 or 9 total. Lila disarmed one of the intruders, slamming their hand with their gun against the railing of the stairs. She pulls out her short sword and shoves it clean through the gut before kicking the body and pulling the sword out.

Cassandra nearby gives Lila a wink of approval before she too returns to slicing bodies in half. Lila looks over to see another figure headed straight for the double doors on the other side. Before she can react, they place a glowing orb on the doors and run back, she knows that blinking anywhere. 

"Bomb!" Lila screams.

Lila ducks for cover behind the stairs as the bomb goes off, sending shards of wood everywhere and the freezing air inside the room. The girls scream from the cold as the bullets cutting through their forms now take out sections of them. Lady Dimitrescu cuts her way to her daughters, shielding them from the icy blast as she continues to cut down those attacking. Lila steps out and watches as the smoke clears and the figure appears, holding the dagger she was originally supposed to obtain. The figure removes their mask, making Lila gasp and her eyes widen.

"Mick?!"

"Hello Lila. Long time no see."

"What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" He holds the dagger up, "you didn't think you were the only one after this did you? You being here is just icing on the cake. If I bring this, and your head, well, I'd be a god damn hero."

Lila sneers and charges Mick, he reacts faster, taking a gun from his hip and hitting Lila straight in the thigh. She screams and drops to her knees, gripping the bullet wound to try and stop the bleeding. Mick approaches her, his gun inches from her face with her staring up the barrel. 

"You know, you should have taken my deal."

Lila's eyes widen. Mick was the one who sent the note. The orders. How did he even know she was alive? How did he find her in the first place. Mick only smirks and cocks the gun. Lila closes her eyes, ready to accept her fate but it seems fate is not ready to accept her. She hears a wet schlop followed by a thud, and when she opens her eyes she sees a half frozen Cassandra standing there. A headless Mick lays on the ground beside her. 

"Consider us even" Cassandra snickers. 

*          *          *

Daniela kissed Lila first, and Lila kissed her back. While her bullet wound healed, she visited every day, bringing a new book to read with Lila. On this particular day she brought her favorite romance book, and she couldn't help it. Lila looked at her just the right way, her lips looked so plump and welcoming that she had to kiss her. To say she was ecstatic is an understatement, she practically tackled Lila when she kissed back. When she ran off to tell her sisters Cassandra snuck in to confess her feelings too but in her own Cassandra way. 

"You're a good fighter. I guess, and I enjoy sparing with you. I guess-what I mean is-I would like to keep sparing with you. As a partner."

"Um-"

But before Lila could respond to her, Cassandra swarmed off in a flurry of embarrassment only to be replaced by Bela. Bela sat on the bed with her, held hand and spoke softly. 

"Thank you for helping us. Again. Mother has called Mother Miranda and, should everything go well, I do hope you'll choose to stay. I've grown rather fond of your company."

Shit. 

Eventually Daniela returned with Cassandra in tow, Cassandra growling the entire time and Daniela on the verge of tears. Apparently all three of them did not communicate with each other beforehand. Lila slunk into her bed, wishing the mattress would open up and swallow her to avoid this. How can she choose? Daniela is so sweet and kind to her, but a bit sensitive and extreme when she doesn't get her way. Cassandra always gets what she wants, one way or another. Bela has given Lila the cold shoulder since day one, but ever since her admission she's been treating Lila differently. 

"You have to choose one" Cassandra threatened. 

"I can't! I love all three of you" Lila admits, covering her mouth when the words leave her. 

"You love us?" Daniela asks shyly. 

Cassandra's anger turns into a coy smirk, as she snickers, "wow you love us?" She teases. 

"Yes. I love you."

The three of them look at each other before sighing softly, "we love you too" Bela admits.

She shoves the note back into her pocket and reunites her glove and hand all while shifting on her feet slightly. It's going to be dark soon, she should make camp or find somewhere to shelter from the snow. As she stands a crow overhead startles her when it caws up above, and with in another letter slowly floats down toward her feet. She scoops it up and rips it open, looking around briefly to see if she could find anyone. How did they know she was here? Specifically in this location? She shakes her head and reads the note, there's one drawing of the castle, another of a dagger, and what looks to be a map of sorts to where the dagger is. On the back of the picture is some poorly written words that are hard to make out.

"Bring me the dagger."

How specific. 

Lila huffs and shoves the new orders with the old and hugs herself as she examines the castle from a distance. It's getting too late now, so she'll have to examine the castle in the morning when she can approach without being seen. She would prefer to do this quietly, but if she has a good enough layout of the castle, it should be plausible. As the sun lowers she hears the monsters of the woods stir, beasts that she's never seen before and can only be described as 'werewolves.' She did notice the closer she got the village, the less she encountered but she'll take no chances and decides to camp out up in the nearby tree. 

Her sleeping bag provides little relief from the cold, especially once night falls and she shivers violently. She has to find somewhere warmer otherwise she'll die of hypothermia before she even reaches the castle. She sleeps very little, waking every time she hears a growl or footprints in the snow below but she knows better than to engage. 

*          *          *

Lila spends all day searching the castle grounds, it took her half a day just to get to the castle undetected. Scaling a rock wall while cold, sore, and tired did not help any. Just as she was about to give up she finds a caved in hole in the ground leading downward. Better than nothing. She climbs down the rumble carefully, cursing every time a rockslides loose and knocks downward, loosening other rocks in its path. Once she's on solid ground she scurries away from the pile as fast as she can only to be met with complete darkness. Great. She kneels and scrounges through her bag until she finds some matches, striking one to light her path until she finds an old torch. Talk about medieval. The torch illuminates her path but now she regrets doing such as she finds herself in the middle of a torcher chamber. 

Rows upon rows of cell doors each with their own little horror; stretching machines, chains, iron chairs with spikes, everything one can imagine. All of them have distinct brown splattering, and some red meaning these were used recently. Fuck. What has she gotten herself into? She takes a few steps forward only to stop again when she hears metal scraping on the stone flooring. She lifts the torch up further before a skeletal figure appears with its sword raised. Lila yelps and dodges the attack, groaning softly. Now she really wishes she wasn't so cold and tired. Her reflexes aren't as fast, but she's faster than this creature at least. 

She hightails it in the opposite direction toward the rumble pile seeing a set of stairs faintly in the back. As she climbs the staircase, she pauses upon hearing a droning sound getting progressively louder. She quickly douses the torch and runs down taking a sharp turn into one of the cells where she tucks herself into one of the little crevices. As she sits there listening to the droning get closer, she sees one of those creatures lying face down in front of her. When the droning stops it's replaced by hurried footsteps and the sound of something hitting another followed by a thud and clanging. It must have been the creature from earlier, but now the other creature in front of her stirs awake. Growling and snarling as it slowly rises to its feet.

"Ugh just the moroaica acting up again" it's a female voice. 

The footsteps fade down the corridor then back toward the cell where Lila holds her breath as the footsteps stop. She stares at the creature, the moroaica? Now it's on its feet, staggering and snarling with a sword dragging behind it. 

"Wait a minute"

There's a long deep breath in. 

"Hmm smells like there might be a morsel down here that isn't supposed to be."

There's a few more steps toward her cell. Lila's eyes dart to the edge of the cell door and back to the creature as the woman approaches. The woman is just outside the cell door and Lila can see the edge of a curved weapon clang against the bars. The moroaica is now limping its way toward her direction, snarling louder and heaving the sword clearly too big for it to hold. 

"Bela!" A booming voice loud enough to be heard even through the concrete walls. 

"Argh! I never get to have any fun" the woman whines. 

Lila listens to the droning pick up again and just as the creature is about to slam its sword down she ducks and rolls out of the way. That woman could smell her, and hear her. She'll have to take other precautions if she wants to move about undetected. She tackles the creature from behind and easily disarms it, taking the sword and cutting the creature in half leaving it laying there lifelessly. Before her very eyes the creature dissolves into a pile of ash but the cloak it wore remains which was her main goal. She tosses the sword aside and removes her pack, then she strips her outer layer and stuffs it into the pack before stashing it. She decides to travel light with only her hunting knife, the map, and backup knife before adorning the creature's cloak to hide her scent.

She climbs the stairs and finds herself in a pantry leading to a kitchen where she quickly goes back around the corner to hide. There's people working in the kitchen meaning she's not going to get anywhere quickly. So she waits. 

*          *          *

After she deemed the staff went to bed for the night, Lila climbs out of her hiding place and continues to follow the instructions on the map. She cuts through the kitchen, the dining room, takes a right, and goes straight forward. She found the door where the dagger is supposed to be, but of course it's locked. This means she'll have to search for a key and most likely whomever that booming voice came from. Lila checks every door she can, only finding one that's unlocked and leading to a long hallway. As she walks down it, she hears that low droning again getting louder, and fast. She looks around quickly for anywhere to hide but it's useless, so she twists on her heels and runs back out the door into the main hallway. The droning turns out to be hundreds, if not thousands of insects all swarming into one black mass. She shivers and watches as the mass takes shape into a person. A woman to be specific. The woman wields a sickle in one hand, and judging from the blood stained on her face she is NOT friendly. 

"Well well well, looks like someone is out past curfew." The woman chuckles. 

The woman swarms her direction with her sickle raised, Lila dodges and rolls to the side, the sickle barely missing her. The woman swings her sickle again violently, this time narrowly avoiding Lila's head. The insects cloud her vision, many of them nip and bite her skin making her slap where she feels a sudden sting. 

"Ouch that hurts" the woman whines sarcastically. 

As Lila gets to her feet the woman grabs her and pins her up onto a nearby wall, getting a better look at who defied the rules.

"Wait-you're not a maid!"

While the woman looks at Lila, she takes the opportunity to take out her hunting knife and slam the butt into the oil lantern above her head. The woman releases her and shields her face from the fiery sparks, giving Lila the perfect opening of escape. She runs down the stairwell, through the double doors, and tries the door to the courtyard. Locked of course. Kitchen it is. Lila returns to the kitchen but is cut off once more by the woman. Lila shoves the table between them in her direction but the woman swarms to avoid it, chasing Lila now into the pantry way where she blocks the exit again. Lila strikes with her knife but the woman easily blocks it with her sickle, throwing Lila back. With her loss of footing, the woman advances and shoves her onto a nearby table in front of the windows.

"I like it when they fight back." The woman chuckles. 

Lila cannot help the rush of heat to her cheeks. Why is she getting flustered now? She shakes her head and she eyes the window. An escape? Lila holds her knife up to keep the woman's sickle at bay while her other hand pulls at the woman's hand around her throat. She has to think of something quick. She tries to kick with her legs but they just go right through the woman's form. The table shakes from the weight and gives her an idea. Lila jolts her body violently, sending the woman off balance and giving her enough time to reach up and unlatch the window. With one firm shove she gets the window open. Behind her the woman screams loudly but Lila doesn't look back as she tries to jump through the window, only to be forcibly yanked back and thrown across the room. Lila coughs and grunts as a searing pain runs up her back from slamming into the shelving, as she looks up she sees the woman in a solid form.

The woman yells and her eyes lock onto Lila, now filled with more murderous rage if possible. Lila pats the ground beside her, searching for her knife or anything at this point and only finding a can of food. The woman is weakened by the cold. Lila throws the can with all her might; the woman easily dodges which is exactly what Lila planned as the can crashes through another window. Now the woman screams again and this time she charges Lila, grabbing her by the neck and raising her sickle ready to strike. The woman is solid now, Lila rears up and kicks with both feet the woman in the chest, making her drop Lila. 

She goes for the sickle; her and the woman struggle back and forth until the woman lunges forward and bites Lila on the shoulder. Lila screams and elbows the woman, the two of them going back and forth in a dangerous tango, another hot searing pain rips through her back leg as she screams and falls to her knees. She looks over to see another woman, a carbon copy of the first only with blond hair instead of black. She too has a sickle now buried deeply into Lila's thigh. Lila whimpers and lays on the cold stone floor, watching the two women slowly circle her before she gives into the exhaustion and pain.

*          *          *

When Lila wakes the first thing she notices is the intense pain in her leg, she reaches down and grimaces when her fingers brush against the wound. However, she finds it bandaged which is a good sign. The second thing she notices is she's not in the torture chambers, rather she's in a large room with ornate decorations and intricate designs. The roaring fire heats her aching body but now she shifts uncomfortably from how sweaty she is. When she tries to stand she instantly falls due to the weakness in her leg, so she decides to scoot away from the fire to get some relief. The door across the room opens with a loud thud, Lila startles and looks over to see an extremely tall woman crouching through before standing to her full height. 

"Nice of you to finally join us."

Us?

Lila leans over to see three women following her, all of them dressed similarly and now she recognizes one of them as the dark haired woman she fought. That woman locks eyes with Lila and flashes her teeth in the form of a grimace. Obviously there's still some hard feelings. The tall woman walks around and sits in a chair built for her size, in her hand is Lila's pack which looks humorously small in her hand. She tosses the pack at Lila who catches it with a grunt then looks back up at the woman. 

"I'm rather impressed you managed to sneak in undetected, because of that I will give you two choices: answer my questions honestly and I'll consider letting you leave, or I'll have my daughters pry the answers out of you."

"I have nothing to hide" Lila answers honestly. All of this isn't worth all the money in the world. 

"What's your name?"

"Lila Stromerst."

"Good. Starting on the right foot already. Why are you here?"

"I was given orders to obtain a dagger located in this castle."

"By who?"

"I don't know. I have the orders with me. You can look for yourself, there's no name or anything associated with them."

"I know."

There's a pregnant pause. The three women in cloaks shift restlessly as the woman crosses her legs and looks Lila over. 

"So you take orders by the highest bidder, does that seem accurate?"

"I have to survive somehow."

"That's not what I asked."

"I suppose so, yes."

The woman tilts her head slightly, "so if I paid you to tell me everything you know about this castle and the dagger, would you?"

"If I'm to be honest it would be wasted money. It seems you've already gone through my belongings, so you have all the information I do. I don't know anything. I'm not paid to ask questions."

"Like a true mercenary. Then tell me, did your orders include harming myself and my daughters?"

"No. I wasn't instructed to kill anyone. I usually try to avoid conflict. What's the point of these questions? You already have everything" Lile motions with her head to her pack sitting by the woman's feet.

"Yes, I wanted to see if you would be honest or not. Your honesty might have saved you this time."

The woman stands and walks past the three women, "very well. Introduce yourselves girls and show her where the staff quarters are."

"Wait-you said I could leave!" Lila attempts to stand, failing once more.

"I said I would consider it. I considered, and decided that someone with your experience would be better suited under my watchful eye. Play nice daughters."

*          *          *

Months pass. At least, she thinks they have. Lila lost count after about 27 days, or maybe 28 days, she can't remember. The moment her leg healed she was put to work but not in the same capacity as the other workers. The girls, whom she learned to be Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, watch her every moment of the day. Bela studies her like a lab rat; asking her questions about the outside world, her work, missions she's been on. Cassandra puts her to work on meaningless tasks: sharpen her weapons, clean them, organize her things, organize them again. Daniela lets her just exist, she's hard to follow most days because her mood changes so rapidly but Lila has learned she's very easy to sway one way or the other. They rotate who watches her and she's slowly learned what pisses them off, and how to suck up to them. Bela hates attitude, and if she suspects any kind of attitude then she makes Lila do exercises just like when Lila was in school. 

Daniela is emotionally motived. Her mood is dependent on how she's interacted with her sisters, or her current read. Usually when she's in a bad mood Lila can tell her the plot of a movie which captivates her attention instantly. She especially loves the romance movies that Lila can recite which is not many, most of them she makes up as she goes. Cassandra is fun to mess with. Lila knows exactly how to get under her skin. Lila and her often get into screaming matches about who actually won the fight which landed her in her current mess; a rematch. Cassandra swings her sickle, slashing the air to warm herself up while Lila opted for a small sword. She hasn't dueled since she did fencing in junior high, but she's scrappy and prefers to move quickly. Cassandra agreed to do the duel outside where she can't swarm to make it neutral ground. Bela is of course the judge, and Daniela is the lookout for their mother. 

Cassandra is the first to strike of course, she's impulsive but fast even while unable to swarm. She also has supernatural strength which Lila will have to use to her advantage. Lila dodges and swings her sword toward Cassandra's legs, but she dodges the attack then swings her own weapon. Lila blocks. The clash of metal on metal ignites a few sparks, Cassandra struck so hard it left a chip in Lila's sword. She has to disarm her somehow. Cassandra is pushing her further down, Lila braces on her back and kicks her legs up, pushing and throwing Cassandra over her. Cassandra lands with a hard thud on her back, but her and Lila spring to their feet simultaneously. Cassandra chases after Lila who runs for cover in the gazebo, using the large blocks of stone to hide behind. 

"Stop hiding coward! This is supposed to be a fight! Fight back!"

Lila steps out and sees Cassandra raise her sickle up above her head, she waits for her to swing it downward before dodging. The sickle lands firmly in the stone pillar, and even Cassandra is unable to pull it out. Lila brings her sword up and slices upward, Cassandra barely has time to react, the sword grazing her as she pulls back. Leaving her sickle stuck in the pillar. Cassandra can still fight. She goes for the tackle, taking Lila down and knocking the sword out of her hand making them on the same terms. Cassandra uses her claw like nails to scratch but Lila blocks with her arms before she bucks her hips and rolls them over. She slams her fist down, hitting Cassandra square in the face.

"Enough!"

Lady Dimitrescu, the very tall lady, approaches with hurried steps, grabbing Lila by the waist and tossing her aside. She coughs loudly as she lands hard on the concrete, Cassandra stands up and growls looking over her shoulder. 

"Daniela! You were supposed to signal us!"

"I know, I'm sorry! The fight was just too interesting not to watch."

"Honestly, wasn't sure if you two were gonna fight or fuck for a minute" quips Bela.

"She wishes" spits Lila.

"Don't think this is over" screams Cassandra.

"This is over! Cassandra my office now! Bela, take the pest down to the dungeon."

It's not the first time Lady Dimitrescu has sent her down to the cells, and certainly won't be the last either. However, Lila stashed her hunting knife, some flint, and a piece of soft wood from the last few times she got sent down there. So, at least now while she waits she has something to do. She works the wood in the dim firelight until she hears a humming drone from outside, she looks over to see Daniela opening the gate to the cell. In her arms is a first aid kit and some food, she kneels in front of Lila and smiles brightly. Lila smiles back and chuckles softly as Daniela examines her for any injuries, as she's done every time Lila has been sent down to the dungeon. 

"I'm fine Daniela. Cassandra didn't get me this time."

"Still, I gotta look. I also brought you some food. Who know how long mother will keep you down here this time. She's pretty angry with Cassandra."

"Well, mind keeping me company for now?"

"Anytime."

Daniela scoots next to you, using your radiant body heat to keep herself warm as she watches you carve the soft wood. Eventually Bela comes to release you, finding you and Daniela snuggled together for warmth in the cold, dark cell.

*          *          *

She hates to admit it, but she's grown kind of fond of Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. Maybe it's Stockholm, but she finds she enjoys their company. Sometimes. Cassandra no longer tries to kill her or challenge her, but she does frequently use her as a sparing partner. Daniela loves hearing stories about Lila's adventures, and the many, many movies she knows by heart. Bela is the coldest. She's analytical, factual, and she still views Lila as what she is: a threat. Even Lady Dimitrescu warmed up faster than her oldest daughter. She doesn't yell at Lila as much which she considers a win, and she's starting calling her by her name rather than 'pest,' 'intruder,' or her favorite 'stupid thing.

 The staff give her a wide berth, many of them mumbling under their breath about how she can freely roam. If any of them even thought about talking back to the ladies, they would find themselves on the business end of a sickle. Lila on the other hand, has nothing to lose considering she's stuck here so she pokes and prods as much as she can. Bela is with you today, keeping a close eye on you and to make sure you don't cause anymore issues. She's a tough nut to crack, but you're determined to find her soft spot. 

"So...what do you like to do for fun?" Lila asks. 

"Shut up" Bela snaps. 

Lila scoffs and rolls her eyes. She's been here for how long and Bela still won't engage in conversation. Lila pauses upon seeing a passageway she hadn't seen before, she's pretty much scouted this entire castle by now but she's never been down here before. Lila tilts her head and starts walking before she's forcibly grabbed by the arm and tossed onto the ground. 

"Hey! What the hell was that for?" Lila snaps. 

Bela simply narrows her eyes down at her, indicating she won't give any information. Lila has all but forgotten about obtaining the dagger, but Bela is still suspicious. The second an opportunity opens Lila will dart, like a house cat wanting to be outside. Bela continues walking but pauses before looking down the hallway again, Lila climbs to her feet and listens as well. Bela takes her sickle out as a nearby window bursts open and a dark figure stomps on the ground. He pulls out a gun and aims but Bela is quicker even with the rushing cold air. She slices up, her blade going clean through his arm, he screams out as hot blood gushes from the wound. 

Numerous others break through the glass, Lila looks between the intruders and Bela then the broken glass. She could easily slip through and climb down via the rope they swung in on. Lila watches Bela move slower and slower as the cold freezes her body, if she doesn't act Bela will die. Lila groans loudly and grabs the fallen gun from the dismembered arm, she aims and shoots. She hates guns. She prefers quieter weapons and the recoil makes her miss the first shot but captures the attention of a few intruders. Lila shoots more, dodging one of them who swings at her. She manages to injure enough of them for Bela to finish the job, the last one shoots and grazes Bela, making a large hole appear in her side. Lila aims again and pulls the trigger to find the gun empty. 

Bela falls to her knees, unable to move much more as the intruder approaches. Lila throws the gun with all her might, hitting the assailant square in the head giving Bela enough time to swing and hit their leg. Lila runs up and straddles the intruder, slamming her hunting knife through the eye, the blood bursts and splatters across Lila's face. She pants heavily and slowly removes the hood from the intruder. She gasps and stares down at the familiar face, as she looks over the body she sees a note sticking out of the side pocket; addressed to her. 

Lila takes the note and reads it, 'join us and we'll let you go.' Lila knows this handwriting, it's the same writing as the orders she was given to first obtain the dagger. She crumples the note and stands on shaky legs before she's, once again, grabbed and pinned to a nearby wall. Bela holds her sickle up to Lila's throat, hard enough the sharp edge cuts the soft tissue lightly. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Bela growls. 

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice."

"Why did you help me? Why didn't you run? Did you have anything to do with this?"

"No! I swear. I-" Lila hesitates, her mind spinning a million miles a minute but Bela didn't like the hesitation. 

Bela drops Lila to the ground, growling lowly as she holds her side in pain. She looks toward the unhooded figure then back at Lila. 

"You know them" she states matter of factly. 

"I do."

"Who are they?"

"Family."

*          *          *

Lila twiddles her fingers as she sits in the office of Lady Dimitrescu, she looks downward at her missing pinkie finger as she sighs heavily. The doors open to reveal Lady Dimitrescu with her daughters in tow. Daniela, sweet, caring Daniela who you consider a close friend now comes swarming over to you. She cups your face and examines you to make sure you're okay before Cassandra starts bombarding you with questions about the fight. Bela is the last to enter, moving slowly but looking better than before as she takes a seat beside her mother, not looking in Lila's direction. 

"You have some explaining to do, and if I sense even a hint of lying" Lady Dimitrescu flexes her fingers as long sharp claws elongate, Lila flinches back having never seen those before.

Lila nods her head quickly in understanding. 

"Who are these intruders? Bela says you know them. Did you bring them here?"

"No I didn't. To be honest I didn't think they'd find me out here."

"Tell me everything. Now."

"I was orphaned from a young age. I got involved in the wrong crowd and found myself in some hefty debts that needed to be paid. I started taking odd jobs which landed me a slurry of enemies, and I ended up betrayed by those closest to me. Those I considered family. Now I'm being hunted by them because they think I'm the one in the wrong. I thought I lost them long ago but it seems they've found me. Again."

"I need to inform Mother Miranda of this. As for you, you will tell me everything you know about them when I return. Cassandra, search the castle for any others that might have gotten through and for any weak spots. Daniela I need you to interrogate the staff, one of them must know something."

Daniela gives Lila a quick kiss on the cheek before swarming off. Cassandra narrows her eyes at Lila before she too swarms away, leaving Lila and Bela alone. Bela shifts uncomfortably as she looks toward the fire then sighs. 

"You never answered my questions from before."

"Hm?"

"Why did you help me? You could have easily ran off, escaped, but you didn't."

Lila looks at her hand once more, "I guess I'm just tired of running. I'm supposed to be a prisoner here yet, I feel oddly welcomed. I consider Daniela a friend, Cassandra an equal, and you, well, I don't know you enough to label you as anything. I've grown fond of you three. I guess...I didn't want to make the same mistake twice."

"Did they do that?" She asks, motioning to Lila's hand.

"No. I did. I planted it after my last job that went wrong, hoping they would think I was injured or died. It bought me at least five years of solitude until now. I don't know how they found me."

"Can I ask what happened? Why are they hunting you?"

Tears start to form in Lila's eyes, "I had a little sister, not a biological one, but she was orphaned around the same time as me. I did these jobs, earned all this money to try and pay back my debts. Worked myself to death so she wouldn't ever have to experience what I did. Then this rich tycoon fucker found her and -" Lila sniffles and sobs quietly, "be said he would release her if I betrayed the mercenary group I called family. He promised."

Lila covers her eyes until she feels a presence next to her, when she looks up through blurry, tear stained eyes, she sees Bela sitting beside her. She has one arm around Lila's shoulders, pulling her closely to her uninjured side. Lila couldn't help but lean into her and sob into her shoulder as the fire crackled in the background.

*          *          *

Daniela discovered one of the maids was communicating with someone outside the castle, and somehow word of Lila got to outside sources. That maid was quickly dispatched of, and no word has been heard from this Mother Miranda that Lady Dimitrescu keeps talking about. Cassandra preps her weapons for when the rest of the mercenary group attacks, which according to the maid, will be in a few days. Lila and Bela spend time reenforcing the windows to make sure no one can break through them again. At night, Daniela sneaks into Lila's room claiming that her room is 'too cold' even with the fire and wants to use Lila's heat instead. Cassandra has also been hovering closely when Lila is working alone.

The day arrives when the attack is supposed to happen, Lila waits in the main hallway with all three Dimitrescus and Lady Dimitrescu in the room adjacent to them. There's only silence. Lila hates silence, it makes her nervous and fidgety. Just as expected the group bursts through the hallway door, half of them in the room with Lady Dimitrescu, and the other half with Lila and the girls. Cassandra cackles loudly as she swarms in for the attack, followed by Daniela and Bela. 

Lila opted for a short sword and crossbow, using the bow to knock guns out of hands but the bullets did nothing for the daughters. The fight was brutal. Blood stained the wooden flooring and it looked as though they were winning. Lady Dimitrescu could cut through three intruders at a time while her daughters took down one after another. In the time it would take Lila to take down one, they would take down 8 or 9 total. Lila disarmed one of the intruders, slamming their hand with their gun against the railing of the stairs. She pulls out her short sword and shoves it clean through the gut before kicking the body and pulling the sword out.

Cassandra nearby gives Lila a wink of approval before she too returns to slicing bodies in half. Lila looks over to see another figure headed straight for the double doors on the other side. Before she can react, they place a glowing orb on the doors and run back, she knows that blinking anywhere. 

"Bomb!" Lila screams.

Lila ducks for cover behind the stairs as the bomb goes off, sending shards of wood everywhere and the freezing air inside the room. The girls scream from the cold as the bullets cutting through their forms now take out sections of them. Lady Dimitrescu cuts her way to her daughters, shielding them from the icy blast as she continues to cut down those attacking. Lila steps out and watches as the smoke clears and the figure appears, holding the dagger she was originally supposed to obtain. The figure removes their mask, making Lila gasp and her eyes widen.

"Mick?!"

"Hello Lila. Long time no see."

"What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" He holds the dagger up, "you didn't think you were the only one after this did you? You being here is just icing on the cake. If I bring this, and your head, well, I'd be a god damn hero."

Lila sneers and charges Mick, he reacts faster, taking a gun from his hip and hitting Lila straight in the thigh. She screams and drops to her knees, gripping the bullet wound to try and stop the bleeding. Mick approaches her, his gun inches from her face with her staring up the barrel. 

"You know, you should have taken my deal."

Lila's eyes widen. Mick was the one who sent the note. The orders. How did he even know she was alive? How did he find her in the first place. Mick only smirks and cocks the gun. Lila closes her eyes, ready to accept her fate but it seems fate is not ready to accept her. She hears a wet schlop followed by a thud, and when she opens her eyes she sees a half frozen Cassandra standing there. A headless Mick lays on the ground beside her. 

"Consider us even" Cassandra snickers. 

*          *          *

Daniela kissed Lila first, and Lila kissed her back. While her bullet wound healed, she visited every day, bringing a new book to read with Lila. On this particular day she brought her favorite romance book, and she couldn't help it. Lila looked at her just the right way, her lips looked so plump and welcoming that she had to kiss her. To say she was ecstatic is an understatement, she practically tackled Lila when she kissed back. When she ran off to tell her sisters Cassandra snuck in to confess her feelings too but in her own Cassandra way. 

"You're a good fighter. I guess, and I enjoy sparing with you. I guess-what I mean is-I would like to keep sparing with you. As a partner."

"Um-"

But before Lila could respond to her, Cassandra swarmed off in a flurry of embarrassment only to be replaced by Bela. Bela sat on the bed with her, held hand and spoke softly. 

"Thank you for helping us. Again. Mother has called Mother Miranda and, should everything go well, I do hope you'll choose to stay. I've grown rather fond of your company."

Shit. 

Eventually Daniela returned with Cassandra in tow, Cassandra growling the entire time and Daniela on the verge of tears. Apparently all three of them did not communicate with each other beforehand. Lila slunk into her bed, wishing the mattress would open up and swallow her to avoid this. How can she choose? Daniela is so sweet and kind to her, but a bit sensitive and extreme when she doesn't get her way. Cassandra always gets what she wants, one way or another. Bela has given Lila the cold shoulder since day one, but ever since her admission she's been treating Lila differently. 

"You have to choose one" Cassandra threatened. 

"I can't! I love all three of you" Lila admits, covering her mouth when the words leave her. 

"You love us?" Daniela asks shyly. 

Cassandra's anger turns into a coy smirk, as she snickers, "wow you love us?" She teases. 

"Yes. I love you."

The three of them look at each other before sighing softly, "we love you too" Bela admits.

[oops-all-concrete]

I'm doing another BG3 companions headcanons dump, since I enjoyed the last one a lot! So please enjoy;

BG3 COMPANIONS REACT TO; TAV IS SCARED!

(For further context, companions reacting to Tav having to be around something they don't like, eg; water, small spaces, fire, undead etc, or they're just jumpy in general. Also, romance is not established, but implied!)

Wall of fluff below, enjoy

Lae'zel -

It depends on the fear. If it's something like a cave that's barely holding up or the group is sneaking past a hoard, she'll agree the situation is critical, but encourage focus. "I'd also like for this to be over. But it won't be if we hesitate and dally" but if it's something like heights or rivers, she doesn't understand...but she will become a githyanki barrier between Tav and whatever is causing them stress.

Shadowheart -

She's pretty understanding of most fears. She freezes at the mere howl of a distant wolf, so if Tav flinches at the crackle of fire or the smell of blood, so be it. She keeps an eye out and tries to find work arounds if the group is about to enter somewhere Tav is going to hate. If it's unavoidable, she's as gentle as possible. "We've got this. It'll be over before you know it, I promise you. Then we'll never have to do this again."

Wyll -

He'll make it as tolerable as possible, but will encourage Tav to face their fears head on. "I'm not scared. I have no reason to be and neither do you, because I won't let anything happen to you" he'll promise. Won't push, won't complain. Just keeps Tav in arms reach and stays calm. He's proudly Tavs dedicated rock. And sheild. And blade. He sasses anybody has anything to say about it.

Karlach -

"Don't worry. Mama K is the best teifling sheild around, from here to Avernus! Stick close" She smiles, confident as ever. Even if she is scared too, she'll pretty much forget about that while Tav is scared. Tav is her main priority, and she let's them know proudly. Anyone else says anything? She's reaching for the greataxe.

Gale -

Doesn't want you to be embarrassed, so he tells you about a silly fear he has. Has a knack for rambling Tav into distraction, so he takes advantage as best he can of their attention. Of course in a moment of panic he'll drop the 'I did something stupid' fake laughter and immediately stop everything. "We can go, right now. I'm sure we can find another way to do this, we always do. I don't care if it takes longer, it's got to be better than watching you shake like that"

Astarion -

He pretends not to notice. Not because he doesn't care, but comfort has never been his strong suit. He worries he's going to make it all worse if he addresses Tav about it. Instead he occupies himself with laughing about whatever situation they're in. If he knows anything, its how to be disarming, and laughter works like a charm...but if it doesn't and nobody else steps in to comfort Tav, he'll do it- granted the words are coming out before he can think too hard; "Look at me. You have survived a goblin camp of cultists, an entire githyanki creche- we met after crashing from a nautaloid ship with illithid worms in our heads. This is nothing. You're stronger than this."

Bonus! (the elders)

Halsin -

He can tell they're nervous before Tav can. He checks in regularly and asks repeatedly if there's anything else he can do to make it all easier. Once it gets to be too much, he calls it for Tav. "I understand if you'd rather myself and a few others handle this. While I'm proud of you for staying, I can promise you no disappointment if you wish to leave. Your wellbeing isn't worth sacrificing for this"

Jaheira -

Similar to Halsin, she's very quick to pick up on when something upsets Tav even if they don't say anything. She subtly keeps an ear out for how well they're holding up, and will make excuses for Tav to take breaks and get further away from the thing they're scared of. "Apologies, but this old druid needs to rest her old lady hips. Tav, it would be safer if we both went to that safe spot there, come on." Jaheira won't bring it up, but its easy to figure out what she's doing.

Minsc -

He doesn't notice for a while, even if its obvious, but once it occurs to him, he draws an obnoxious amount of attention to it. Granted he's also asking people to get between you and the source of discomfort and will tell anyone who so much as sighs to politely shut the fuck up. If he thinks it will help, he will put Boo on Tavs shoulder. "Boo is a war criminal! Everything fears Boo. He'll protect you from all the nasties, won't you Boo?"

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you guys have any prompt ideas, I'd LOVE to write more ^^

[vibratingskull]

What would you think of maybe Thrawn x Reader on a camping trip to somewhere scenic and isolated? Maybe on vacation, away from the stresses of work? I'm definitely imagining Thrawn shirtless and chopping firewood, for some eye candy. Maybe like, half fluff/half spicy?

🥺 pretty please?

(my love as a gift, regardless of if you write this!)

Of course, anything for you my sweet ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

ThrawnxF!reader

Tags: Winter vacation, fluff, fingering

“Ch’acah, we have arrived.” Thrawn pats your thigh to wake you up.

You rise up in a jolt, still half asleep. You were so comfortable pressed against Thrawn's back, holding him tight on the speeder, his body's higher warmth still spreading to you past the thick leather jacket he wears. 

You rub your eyes and wipe a bit of drool off your mouth and discover a wooden cabin under a thick layer of snow. Thrawn already jumped off the bike to get the luggages as you hug yourself to shield yourself from the biting cold. He was so warm…

“You are shivering, Vir. Let’s get inside.” He invites gallantly.

You jump on the ground, leafing through the bunch of keys you have. You haven't come here in decades, you almost forgot your grand aunt bought that cabin in the middle of nowhere.

You would have come in summer under a blazing sun but you saw how Thrawn's eyes were shining when you told him everything froze in winter in the region. You hoped for a resort near a beach for those vacation, but seeing him getting excited by the prospect of living through a cold climate for some weeks made you cave in, for your Chiss…

As much as Thrawn shows excitement of course, which is always in moderation. 

But enduring the cold and wind is worth it if Thrawn gets something reminding him of his homeworlds.

You enter the key in the door and push the heavy block of wood to enter the modest abode. It is completely dark and cold. You search for a lightswitch on the wall until you find it and flip it.

Nothing.

You flip it again.

Still dark.

“We may have an electricity problem.” You annonce.

Thrawn puts the luggages down in the largest room, consisting of a kitchenette, a sofa, a double bed and a fireplace.

Real small cabin, you see.

You mingle with a heater mounted on the wall, to no avail.

“Let’s start the chimney.” Thrawn says. “Let’s get some light and warmth.”

You go around the cabin in search of the wood reserve, finding the ax in the meantime. You find back Thrawn securing the bike in the nightfall against a tree. You don’t know who would come lost themself in this forest to steal a speeder bike, but security first you suppose.

“No cutted logs, but I found the ax.” 

He nods, standing up. He is only wearing his leather jacket while you're wrapped in the puffiest winter coat you ever saw, a heavy lana scarf and some gloves. 

“I will see the wood, go collect some ice.” He instructs

“Why?” you tilt your head, blowing hot air on your hands.

“For the bath.” He says with a thin smile.

You take a hammer from the top case and a very large bucket. You wave at Thrawn as you go, looking at him chopping wood with application and venture a little bit deeper in the forest. If your memory serves you right there must be a lake not too far away…

You break the ice with the hammer and collect enough to fill the bucket. It is a really, really large bucket and it gets really, really heavy. You have all the pain in the world carrying it back to the cabin, especially with this hindering coat. You take double the time it took you to reach the lake to come back.

But you’re not disappointed, far from it.

Because when you finally reach the cabin, you raise your eyes from the heavy bucket to discover Thrawn, still cutting logs, bare chested and muscles glistening with a thin layer of sweat shining under the rising stars. 

You are so surprised and enthralled you stop dead in your tracks, completely hypnotized by that scene. You cannot help but admire his form, his powerful muscles flexing so wonderfully under the new moonlight. 

You remained silent, eyes wide open, arms holding on desperately on the heavy bucket that started trembling in your hands. He catches a glimpse of you mid swift, sliding a log in too with such force and power the two parts fly on the side. He lays down the ax to turn to you, gasping for air, his breath forming steamy clouds at his mouth. You see his large chest rising up and down rapidly and you imagine his heart beat racing in his rib cage. 

You close your agape mouth with a gulp, shaking your head back to reality. 

“I found ice.” You inform gingerly, trying to keep your eyes to his ember eyes and not his mouth watering chest and abdominals.

Maker… He is such an athlete! He has been carved by the gods in pure marble!

“Good.” He nods, already getting back his breath under control, “Put it in the chimney, we are going to melt it for the bath.”

You greet your teeth as you carry the bucket inside. Right behind you Thrawn gathered the wood he cut and places them in the fireplace. He starts the fire as you get rid of your heavy coat. You take one of the furry plaid and lay it on his naked shoulders, he raises his head to meet your gaze, a silent ‘thank you’ in his eyes.

“You’re going to catch a cold in this outfit.” You smile gently.

You just see a drop of sweat rolling from his pac to roll on his muscular stomach, making you gulp again. He doesn’t close the plaid over him, only holding the sides with the tip of his fingers, letting you appreciate his whole carved bust as he rises back on his feet. The red and yellow flames bounce beautifully on his deep blue skin, creating delightful tones and shades dancing on his skin. You breathe deeply through your nose, trying your best not to drool at that sight.

He turns his head to you, completely lost in your admiration of his body, and smiles thinly before booping the tip of your nose with his knuckle. You wince and wrinkle your nose in reaction, almost sneezing.

“I think we still have some hot cocoa in the thermos. You are shivering, Ch’acah.”

He invites you to sit on the sofa in front of the burning fire and brings the two cups and the thermos bottle, pouring you a cup of the fuming drink. As you blow on the steaming cup in your hand he sits beside you, throwing the side of the plaid over your own shoulders. You smile and snuggle against his warmer body with a sigh of contentment.

“I know you wished to go to the beach for those vacations.” Thrawn says after a very long moment of comfortable silence, “I am sorry, Ch’acah.”

You kiss his shoulder before laying your head on it.

“No need Thrawn. I saw how happy and interested you were in this location.”

“And I am thankful to you for accepting.” He brushes his cheek against the top of your head.

“If you are happy, it is good enough for me.” You assure, sighing contented as you finally started to warm up.

“We will go to that resort you saw, cheo vir, I promise you.”

“And we could come back here each winter, if you wish!” You propose.

“Thank you, love.” He kisses your hair tenderly.

You press yourself against his warm body, feeling his arm circling your shoulders, pressing you tighter against himself. You deeply inhale the natural musk of your Chiss with glee, letting it invade your lungs with great pleasure.

He is so, so warm…

And smells so, so good.

His thumb comes caressing the plump of your cheek softly.

“I love you, Thrawn.” You let escape in the softness and intimacy of the moment.

“I love you too, Ch’acah.” He responds with a melodious tone.

You sip your cups, letting the heavy and thick chunks of ice slowly melt in the bucket over the fire. He keeps caressing your cheek with his thumb, softly, lightly, tenderly…

You hear him purring lowly, feeling the waves through the skin of your cheek. You close your eyes, comfortable and relaxed.

“Do you like it here?” You ask.

“It is quite rudimentary, but yes. It brings back some soft memories.” He admits.

“Good, that’s what I wanted for you.” you press your cheek on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Ch’acah. You take such good care of me.”

You raise your head to look him in the eyes. His so beautiful crimson eyes.

“Because you do it too…” You whisper.

His fingers travel from your cheek to your chin, tilting it to give him a better access to your lips. He leans forward and captures them delicately, pressing sweet kisses on your lips, purring deeply at the sensual contact. In place of purring you moan for his ears, mewling alluringly for his pleasure.

He parts from you with a satisfied sigh, looking into your eyes. His face is stern and unreadable but his eyes are spilling love and adoration. He gently puts a strand of your hair behind your ear before taking your cheek in his palm. You mewl and snuggle against his warm palm.

“I could drown in your eyes.” He murmurs with his deep baritone voice.

“Your eyes set fire to my soul.” You respond.

He kisses your forehead lovingly.

“We should take the water off the fire before it boils.” He simply says, leaving your embrace.

He lets the plaid fall off his large shoulders like a cap in a regal movement, letting you admire his magnificently sculpted back and well defined shoulder blades. You feel your throat drying at that simple sight.

“Will it be sufficient?” You ask tilting your head.

“It is plenty.”

You hardly see how it is enough to fill a bathtub…

He seizes the heavy bucket, flexing his powerful biceps just for you and easily carry it to the ridiculously small bathroom.

This room is hilariously small.

There is no bathtub, not even a shower. There is only a larger than usual metallic barrel next to a crude, but serviceable toilet. Thrawn easily lift the bucket and pour the fuming water in the barrel, filling it up.

“Oh this is really, really rudimentary.” You concede.

“We will be a bit squeezed in here, but it will be quite… pleasant.” He turns to you.

Your gaze travel between the barrel to Thrawn, eyes round.

“You want us to take our bath together, in… this?”

“Will it be a problem?” He asks, opening his pants.

You purse your lips.

You hardly see how Thrawn could squeeze his large and tall body in this barrel, so your two bodies at the same time…

“Hum…”

“I thought it would be agreeable to bathe together, in each other's arms.” He presents his argument.

“I mean…” You hesitate.

You turn back to him to see him naked in all his glory and immediately avert your eyes, suddenly shy.

Which is quite weird, you've been seen naked more than once. And you always loved it, a lot!

You feel him come to press his naked form against your body, gently opening the buttons of your thick lana cardigan.

“Come bath with me, Ch’acah.” He whispers in your ear, making you shudder instantly.

You gulp, feeling your body temperature skyrocketing by the second. He pulls the cardigan off your shoulders  gently, nibbling at your ear. You gasp at the touch of his breath on the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine and pussy. You bite your lips and take your shirt off while he unbutton your pants before pulling them down, letting you in your bra and tights. You fill his warm hands snaking their way back up your legs, caressing and squeezing the flesh as they rise. 

This is not an alluring stocking but lana tights with extravagant colors and patterns as they tend to be. You hear a low chuckle behind you.

“I am sorry, you may have hoped for a thin shaded stocking.” You mumble. “I am sorry.”

“Not at all, Ch’acah. I know you cannot endure cold climates as well as I. These eccentric patterns and colors are also pleasant to see.”

“I was so cold on the ship.” You admit. “I needed a new layer.”

“I will make sure you remain warm during our stay.” He says lowly, darkly, seductively…

You feel his lips on your lower back brushing the thin sensitive skin like a butterfly, making you shiver again. He stands back to his full height and opens your bra expertly, with a snap of the hooks and his warm hands come forth and grabs your tits delicately. You breathe through your nose, mouth agape as he gently kneads the round mounds of flesh, before making your nipples roll between his master fingers, tugging on them softly.

“I love unclothing you.” He whispers again, “I know really well what I will found, but it is like I am rediscovering our body each time, like a new first time.” and he bites down your ear.

You yelp, to his pleasure.

“Come in with me, sweet thing.” He kisses your shoulder and leave you to enter the barrel.

Somehow, someway he does enter the barrel entirely, sitting down in the warm water, his legs wide apart to leave you space. He extends his hand to you invitingly.

You get rid off your tights and panties quickly and enter the fuming, hot water. Miraculously you manage to both fit in the barrel, squeezed against the other, but surprisingly comfortable nonetheless. Your back is pressed against his chest as you sit between his legs. 

“How is it?” He asks.

“Hot.”

“Too hot?” He worries.

‘Against a body such as yours? It is scorching hot’ you think.

“It is agreeable.” You correct, getting comfortable against his chest.

You sigh of comfort, slowly relaxing in the fuming water.

“See? We could fit without any difficulties.”

“I wouldn’t have bet on it!” You retort.

He kisses the top of your head, pecking your hair, hugging your body tightly in his arms. He crosses his legs before yours, imprisoning you between his embrace completely.

“Lay on me, Ch’acah, I am warmer.” He invites.

You let your head fall back on his shoulder with a moan. One of his hands starts drawing circles on your arm while the other one sneakily traces its way on your stomach and goes south. He keep kissing your ear and temples as his hand keeps going until it scoops your sex in his palm. Air gets stuck in your throat as you feel him dressing down your cunt with his large hand. One single finger curls up, trailing your slit until it flicks your clit at the top. You immediately jolt back, and in doing so compress his cock between your two bodies. He hisses in return in pain and pleasure.

“I’m sorry!” You immediately present your excuses.

“Do.not.move.an.inch.” He orders. “Remain here.”

“O-Ok…”

He trails your slit once again, before going at it seriously, pushing past your folds and massaging your entrance with the pad of his finger.

“You are already gaping, I can feel you pulsing against my finger.” He notes satisfied.

“You are teasing me, of course I am going to react!” You defend yourself.

He adds a second finger at the circles he traces around your entrance, applying sweet pressures here and there, titillating your cunny from time to time. His fingers rise to your pearl and knead it thoroughly, adding pressure, making it roll, flicking it repeatedly. Your legs start trembling and you try to close them, but it only imprison his hand in place.

He licks your ear with his warm, wet tongue and a guttural growl. His second hand leaves  your arm to caress and grope your breast, kneading it lovingly, weighting them in his hand, appreciating their roundness and fullness with a hum of approval.

His fingers go back south and one enters you, gently, letting your entrance time to embrace the girth of his digit. He pushes it further, knuckles deep and immediately grazes at your gummy spot, caressing it and crossing it without missing a beat.

You can feel all your south muscles contracting at the shockwaves of pleasure currently spreading in your body, squeezing his finger inside.

“That is the kind of reaction I enjoy…” He says amused and pleased.

To prove his point a second finger enters you deeply, stretching you wide open. His fingers are like his hands: large and long, and a trial to take in, but they give you so much pleasure they are worth any struggle. He spreads his fingers wide to stretch you more and more until your cunny muscles are at their maximum. Shuddering terribly, you hold on his arms for support.

“Can you take a third one, Cheo vir? For me…” He purrs deeply, enjoying himself tremendously.

Mouth agape, gasping, only a strangled moan escape you as an answer. He kisses your cheek and decide for you.

“Yes you can, sweet thing.”

And he pushes the third in. This time you are at your maximum. You are fully stuffed and feel your pussy compressing his three fingers tight, threatening to cut the blood flow in them.

“I love how your tight pussy always struggles to take what I offer you. Even fingers are too much… Somedays I wonder how you can take my cock in your sweet little cunt. But you always do. To my utmost pleasure.” He praises, licking your neck all the way up. “You are so good for me, Ch’acah, always pushing your limits to please me.”

He thoroughly massages your pussy as he speaks, caressing and stroking any hidden spots inside your pussy, sending powerful waves of pleasure in your core.

“I am so stuffed!” You manage to let out in a gasp.

“Are you?” He muses, “Already?” And he pushes his finger deeper until their whole length is inside.

You pant terribly, digging your nails in his arms. You are so stretched! So full! So filled! You cannot take anything more, it is impossible, you would explode in a million pieces!

“You are strangling my fingers so much, sweet thing.” He breathes lowly, “This is so… delectable.” You feel his hips moving behind you, his big, lengthy cock brushing your lower back from side to side, getting as much friction as he can.

He circles your G spot, scratching the itch and resumes the flicking of your clit, he is not one to neglect such an important aspect of womanly pleasure, quite the contrary.

You moan and mewl uncontrollably under his caress as he deep massage your pussy while licking and kissing your neck and shoulder.

“Maker!” You cry out.

You feel your pussy clenching and convulsing furiously around his large fingers while your nervous clit pulsates powerfully.

“Come for me, Ch’acah. Come hard for me...” He whispers seductively in your ear.

You come in a jolt, the pleasure suddenly exploding in your sex like fireworks forcing you to curl over yourself, but Thrawn holds you down with his mighty arm. Your eyes roll inside your skull and your toes curl deliciously as the fire spreads in your veins slowly to your nerves ending.

You tremble, but not of cold, but of pure, raw shock. The aftermath of your climax slowly subsiding, you relax bit by bit, relaxing easily in his arms with a sigh, slouching in his embrace.

“Thank you, Cheo vir.” Thrawn praises you, “You came hard and good. Just as I wanted.” He kisses your cheek again, purring loudly, so much you feel vibrations in your back.

As much as a hard, long warm shaft in your back…

Oh.

Oh…

He rolls his hips again, brushing his erection against your back gently with a hum. You slide your hand between your two bodies to stroke and caress him but he stops you.

“No. Leave it.”

“Are you sure?” You ask nicely. “You made me cum, I should reciprocate.”

“Not now.” He decides, pressing you tighter against him, “It is so nervous and sensitive like that, it is really pleasant.” He moves his hips back and forth gently, “I quite like it. Let me appreciate it a bit longer…”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay, @obbicrystaleo, @germie2037

[reddeaddamnation]

RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2 PREFERENCE: Their reaction to your death

Arthur Morgan

"Get me a doctor, come on!" Arthur yelled, galloping into camp with you in front of him, seemingly barely hanging on on the saddle. The gang immediately gathered around, shocked and worried about your condition. "What happened?" Dutch asked. "O'Driscoll boys." Arthur sneered "Ran into us on the way back. Got them to back off but not without trouble."

Miss Grimshaw carefully took you down from the saddle, grimacing at the gushing wound on the side of your belly from a gunshot. "Miss Grimshaw. Put her to lay down somewhere. John, go into town and get a doctor. Quick!" Dutch started barking orders around "Mr. Pearson, give her something for the pain. Arthur..." he looked at the man with a look of sadness and muttered quietly "I'm sorry, son."

"I don't think she's gonna make it." Micah said indifferently, watching Susan carry you away, as you slipped in and out of consciousness while stumbling on your way. "You shut the hell up!" Arthur yelled, jumping down from his horse and grabbing Micah by the shirt "What do you know?" Micah scoffed "I know enough that if there's an exit wound, she's lucky enough to make it here alive enough to say goodbye."

John Marston

Someone ratted you out. This was a trap. The stagecoach was a setup, because as soon as you, Arthur, John and Sadie stopped it, you were overrun by Pinkertons, who chased you into the woods to a cave where you hoped to hide. Except that they cornered you inside and were nearing your hiding spot while Arthur was cursing and looking for a way out discreetly behind some stalagmites. There was a tight opening near them, but you would be too slow to escape in time. You looked at John, heart pounding in your chest as the voices neared. Arthur was urging Sadie to go in the opening and beckoning you to follow her. You squeezed John's hand. "I got this." You got up, ignoring the hushed scolding "Are you insane?", "What are you doing?"

"Sirs." You walked out of the hiding spot slowly, hands up "Agent Milton." You nodded at the Pinkerton. There were at least 15 people aiming at you. "It seems... you caught me. It was a fun chase." You scoffed. "Surrender your weapon, miss L/N." Milton ordered "This doesn't need to get bloody." You slowly dropped your gun to the ground, side eyeing the others, who watched you from behind the rocks. "Where are your associates?" Milton interrogated. "It seems we got split up. I'm lost and they left me behind." You answered, walking closer to them so their attention is only on you.

"This one could be a valuable asset to lure Van Der Linde out of hiding, sir." Agent Ross mumbled to his colleague "With her, we don't even need to look for the others. They will come to us." Until the end, you were sure nobody would shoot. You knew they know how close your gang is. Surely even if you were captured, they would come to save you and the agents knew it. Milton was thinking silently. "You know what, Ross?" He thought "I don't think so." Gunshot. You gasped and hunched over, leaning on one of the rocks, holding your chest, where blood quickly painted your shirt red. "It's easier picking them out one by one."

John wanted to scream. He wanted to jump out and massacre them all. You slid down the stalagmite until you were sat. Your eyes briefly met his before the life drained from them and he was left, locking eyes with a corpse. He was ready to jump out and start shooting, before Arthur grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back roughly. "We'll come back. We'll avenge her. I swear. Let's go."

Charles Smith

How many more people was he going to bury? Lenny, Hosea, Arthur... now... the unthinkable. Saint Denis wasn't a place for you and he was cursing himself for bringing you here ever since you settled in. You always told him how much you hate the big city and how would love to have a homestead somewhere in the countryside... he knew everything about you. How depressed you feel in this grey, corrupt city, how it made you feel chained and small. He swore you will buy a homestead soon when you have money.

But that day never came. Today, tuberculosis finally got the better of you. And Charles blamed everything on himself. From where you contracted the illness, he didn't know. All he knew was that he despised this disease ridden society. He couldn't listen to your painful hacks and coughs day and night without his heart wretching in pain. You were such a shining and bubbly person before the illness dimmed your flame.

After the burial, he sat at your grave all day. Neither crying nor smiling, not thinking or moving. He felt empty. For all he cared from now on he could die too for bringing this upon you. He knew he shouldn't have moved you here... he would blame himself for the rest of his life.

Dutch van der Linde

Guns blazing in the distance. The O'Driscolls scattered, panicked, reaching for their guns. You watched them with a smirk. Dutch was coming. You heard him. "Face me, you scum!" He yelled, mercilessly shooting anyone in his way, his gang behind him. "He's gonna get you now, Colm." You teased your captor "And he won't be as gentle as you were." You sneered menacingly, spitting blood on the ground, which had been drenched in your blood from five days of torture and malnutrition. "Shut your mouth, harlot." Colm was panicking. "I told you but you didn't listen." You laughed "What do you know, huh? We've been through this before, me and Dutch. And I'd do it again." Colm grabbed you by the throat "You're just a disposable toy to him. I bet in a month from now I'd be doing this with another wench I don't even know the name of." You spit in his face, making him back off.

"I'd think you're in love with him more than me, Colm. You're obsessed. You wanna be next in line, huh?" You mocked, laughing loudly to let Dutch know where you are. "Why you..." he grabbed you by the hair and aimed his gun at your neck. "Colm!" Dutch kicked the door in, aiming his gun at Colm's head, along with Arthur and Bill.

The house you were kept in was in a remote place in the mountains near the Grizzlies. Dutch must have rode for days without rest for him to find you so fast. "Here we are again, Dutch." Colm smirked "Too bad I don't have a brother for you to kill nearby."

Dutch growled "It will not happen again. I guarantee it." Silence. Colm thought for a moment before raising his hands "Alright." He cut the ropes holding you up "You win, Dutch. You outnumbered me. I won't be the one to kill her." You fell to the ground, wrists sore from the days of being hung up. Colm backed away towards a window. "My darling Y/N." Dutch held out his hand, but not leaving Colm out of sight "Let's get out of here."

You were about to stand up when a gunshot pierced your side and Colm disappeared through the window, broken by the bullet. "No!" Dutch screamed falling to his knees to hold you. He didn't have any words left to describe his hatred for Colm. No punishment would be enough for him. Arthur ran to the window but quickly ducked before the sniper could shoot him. "Y/N.." Dutch caressed your cheek "I'm here." History was repeating itself. "Dutch..." you whispered before passing out. If he didn't have a reason to live before, Dutch was now determined to destroy Colm O'Driscoll's life and give him the most painful death.

[arvensimp]

After Graduation

Just a lil arven x fem!reader insert fic of them confessing their feelings for one another after leaving the academy. Nothing crazy. uwu

...

"Hey..."

"Hey! Where are you? I've been searching all over. Did you leave already?"

"Uh. Yeah." You hear him swallow. "I did. There were just a lot of people, and..."

"Arven! C'mon! We only graduate once!" Your tone isn't really chastising, barely a mockery of teasing. "My mom wanted to get pictures of us in our cap and gowns."

"Oh! Uh, well, I-... I hadn't thought about that."

With your meteoric rise at the academy, plus Arven needing to take a bit of extra time to process everything that had happened in the aftermath of the professor's actions, it wasn't exactly surprising that the two of you were graduating together, but it definitely made you happy to be able to sit on the stage together. They don't really prepare you for how boring an actual commencement ceremony is, but it helped to have your best friend sitting by your side.

Nenoma had, of course, graduated early, and Penny chose to skip out of the ceremony entirely, choosing to get started on work with Geeta at the League at the earliest opportunity. In hindsight, maybe she had the right idea, since the ceremony itself was such a bore.

Still, you were glad to have had Arven there.

"Well, where are you now? Just come get some pictures with us. Then we can go somewhere quiet and away from all the crowds."

"Oh. Well, uh... I'm already kinda...waiting for you away from all that. I was hoping you'd meet me here when you were done?"

"Oh. Uh." Your tummy flutters just a bit. "Sure? Let me just tell Mom. Can you drop me a pin? I'll be right over."

"Can do, little buddy." You think you hear a smile on his lips before the click of the call ending.

After a rushed goodbye to your mom with promises to be back to take pictures later, you hop on your dragon, your graduation cap tucked safely into your bag, and set your course for...what looks like the middle of the lake? If memory serves, that's where you fought the last titan to save Mabosstiff.

It takes very little time to get there on the back of such a fast pokemon, and judging by what seems to be a lamp's glow, it looks like Arven has set up camp for himself in the very same cave you'd found yourselves in not terribly long ago.

You dismount your pokemon and return him to his ball before dusting off your graduation gown.

"Arven?" You call, venturing into the mouth of the cave.

"Over here!" He replies, drawing you to him with the sound of his voice and a wave. His graduation gown is already undone, revealing a tidy dress shirt and vest beneath. You also see Mabosstiff at his side give a great big boof in greeting.

In no time you've made it over to him and are wrapped up in a massive ursaring hug.

"Hey, little buddy," He says warmly, his soft hair brushing against your cheek. He smells like firewood and baking bread, and you have to take a moment to prevent yourself from getting lost in him.

"Hi! I'm sad you didn't stick around! What do you have going on here though?" You disengage from the hug and prop your fists up on your waist with a nod to the set table decked out with all sorts of tapas as well as some beautifully made sandwiches.

Arven chuckles a bit and runs a hand through his hair, pushing a tuft from his eye before it falls back. "I, uh... Well, we wanted to thank you. For getting us this far." At his side, Mabosstiff barks. You can tell now he's wearing a sweet little bow tie.

"He wouldn't... I don't know if I... I mean. I would. I just... Well, if you hadn't helped us back then...? Ugh, I'm just trying to say that we-- I'm. I'm really grateful to have you. You're really special." He sounds more flustered than choked up, but the emotion is definitely there.

"Hey," you reply, placing a hand on his upper arm. It's warm even through all the fabric. "Thanks. You're really special, too. You know that?" The words feel so cheesy coming out of your mouth, but they're in the open air before you can stop them. At the very least, the dim lighting of the cave means he shouldn't notice your face heating up.

"A-anyway," He chokes, "I just... I wanted to make you something special...and take you back to where it all really...ya know...came together. F...for us."

For us? Did he mean you and him? Or him and Mabosstiff? This was the place where the poor pokemon finally seemed to fully snap back to reality, but it was also where the two of you really started to click well... Nah, it had to be him and Mabosstiff. Those two were thick as thieves... And just...

"Oh, yes! Look at him! And his tie!" You lean down to hug the dog and give him some good rubs. "I'm happy every day that we got you all sorted, buddy boy!"

Arven stays quiet, and when you look back up at him through your eyelashes, he's breathtaking in his soft sweetness and in the way he's looking so gently at you and his partner pokemon. It almost makes you want to curl up and hide.

Before you can react, he kneels down to get on yours and Mabosstiff's level. "I think we both thank our lucky stars every day to have met you, ya know?" He very deliberately makes sure to look at you when he says it, but as soon as the words are out in the open he bites his lip and looks away. One of his hands is clinging to the dog's fur, running purposefully and slowly through the thick strands.

"I-..." You choke a bit.

"You're... You're important to us. To me." The hand on Mabosstiff deliberately finds yours and entwines your fingers.

"Me too..." You find yourself saying, squeezing his fingers in return. God, you hope your mouth isn't gaping open like a Magikarp as you look at him. He's just...so pretty... And you like him so much, it hurts. God, you like him so much. And oh my God he's looking at you?

"I've liked you for so long." Arven finally admits. "I can't pin down an exact moment, but our time in this cave was as good a moment as any. You... You helped make me a whole man again. You--"

You move before you can even think of it, tackling Arven to the mossy floor of the cave, pressing your mouth to his in an elated kiss.

"I like you too!" You reply softly but excitedly as you pull away just a bit, maintaining your straddle overtop of him. "I don't know exactly when it started either, but... But I have! For a while now!" You kiss him again, this time he eagerly meets you in it, one hand threading through your hair while the other rests gently at your waist.

"I'm...I'm so glad," he mumbles into your lips between kisses.

You take the opportunity to dust his cheeks with soft smooches as his hands nervously flit about your form, never straying terribly far from your waist. You absolutely don't mind. It's nice just feeling his warmth, experiencing this newness that you purposefully didn't allow yourself to agonize over imagining for ages.

Eventually you come to a resting place with your cheek on his chest, his hands at the small of your back. The silence is comfortable.

"I...I feel like 'little buddy' doesn't quite work as a nickname for you now?" Arven finally says, making you snort. "I-I mean...if we wanted to, uh...make this official?"

"Yeah, no, I guess it wouldn't work as a nickname." You nuzzle into his chest. "Any other ideas? Cute names for a girlfriend?" You tease.

"Hm..." A hand of his drifts to scratch lovingly at the back of your neck, making you groan happily. "Little lady?"

"Hmm... Maybe? That's not bad."

"We'll workshop it?"

"We'll workshop it " You agree.

[spacesquidlings]

If You Need To, Darling, Lean Your Weight On Me: Revelations

Summary: Their tadpoles long ago destroyed, Astarion and Aspen spend their days travelling through Faerûn, searching for a way for Astarion to again walk in the light. But there is not much light to be had now, not even as dawn approaches, as they trek through an unending storm. Eager not to cause trouble for her lover, Aspen ignores her waning strength, and when Astarion finally does find out, he's keen to show her just how much trouble he's willing to go to for her.

Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (OC Aspen)

Warnings: Suggestive comments

A request from the wonderful @spacebarbarianweird !!!!! Thank you so much <3

Table of Contents

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The slate grey of storm clouds choked out the burgeoning gold of the rising sun. Mist hung heavy in the air, painting the forest they traveled through in quicksilver, making it all the harder to stumble across the waterlogged earth. Rain clung to everything, soaking their travelling cloaks, freezing on their skin, dripping from limp, olive green leaves.

It had rained all the day before, and the storm had continued into the night. They had only paused a handful of times, curling up beneath cliffs where the rain couldn’t quite reach them or in caves too shallow for any manner of beast to make a home in it.

Now the night was waning, although Aspen couldn’t really tell. She supposed the iron grey of the stormy night was softening to a wispy dove-grey, but shadows still stretched long, cloaking much of the world in darkness.

Even so, it was probably best that they found somewhere to rest. She did not anticipate the heavy clouds drifting away before the moon rose, but knowing the sun lurked beyond the storm set her on edge. Astarion could slip through the world at dawn and dusk, when the sun’s light was softer, kinder, and he had passed through towns and forests before even when the sun was no longer benevolent so long as his cloak was drawn low. Still, she did not want to risk him coming to harm, the sunlight burning him away.

Blinking raindrops that had gathered in her lashes, Aspen looked around, seeing nothing but misty forest and the blurred outlines of trees surrounding them. Perhaps they could find another cave, something big enough for the two of them, but small enough that forest creatures would not bother with it.

A shiver wracked through her, and her whole body spasmed in response. Fingers trembling, teeth clacking together, shoulders twitching. Rain water slipped down her back, cold as ice. She really did not want to spend the day in a cave, or camped out somewhere outside. She wanted to be inside, wanted soft blankets and warm food and a tub she could soak in for hours until the chill of the night went away.

“This is miserable.” Beside her, Astarion voiced her innermost thoughts, his mouth turned down in a frown. “It’s been raining all night, I’m freezing, and I’m covered in mud.”

He gave a dissatisfied grunt as he shook one foot, flecks of mud spraying in an arc. He winced as he settled his foot back down, the squelch of a mud puddle sounding beneath him. “Now that is just repulsive.”

She managed a weak giggle, wrapping her arms around her middle. Her heavy woolen cloak offered no protection against the rain any longer, and again she shivered. It had been thoroughly soaked through, and now it clung to her awkwardly, scratching at her throat and back.

Astarion opened his mouth, clearly on the verge of complaining further. His eyes flicked to hers, a brilliant crimson, stark against the pallid landscape. The rain had leached the world of its colour, even the most vibrant of wildflowers dulled to an echo of their former life. But his eyes remained bright, sharp as the blades sheathed at his hip.

Even exhausted and cold as he was, he was quick, and she must not have been hiding her own fatigue particularly well. Lines creased his brow, pale hands sliding from the folds of his cloak to find hers.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured, the lines in his brow deepening. It reminded her of a statue, a sculpture by a renowned artisan, the lines etched into the granite of his face.

But granite was not soft as her Astarion was, too hard and unyielding. He liked to pretend otherwise, but there was a soft, warm-hearted person behind his devilish veneer. He was a villain, to be sure, but there was a gentleness hidden beneath that rough exterior, and she could feel it now as he held her hands so carefully, as he circled his thumbs over the backs of her wrists.

His gaze snapped up to hers, ire making his eyes flare like rubies in sunlight. His brow arched, and she could tell there was very little patience left in his waterlogged heart. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have stopped for longer. We could have looked for an inn or somewhere to rest.”

She shook her head, trying to will her teeth to stop chattering so she could speak. “We needed to keep moving. We can’t travel much during the day, and we still have far to go.”

He rolled his eyes, groaning in exasperation. “Darling, I love you, but sometimes I fear you are not intellectually gifted.”

“Are you insulting me right now?” She did not want to pull away from his hold, the friction of his hands rubbing hers the first spark of warmth she had felt in hours. But she could not help the frigid tone, annoyed with him for implying she was stupid.

The corners of his lips twitched, and he quickly brought her hands to his lips, blowing warmth onto them. “I would never dream of such a thing, my dear. But I would rather take a few extra days to travel than have you keel over from hypothermia.”

Now she was the one rolling her eyes. “I’m not going to die from hypothermia.”

He clicked his tongue. “Darling, your lips are blue.”

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth immediately, nervously biting in the hopes that he was only teasing her. “No they’re not.”

“I am many things, love, but I am not colourblind.”

“I’m okay, really!” She insisted, although her defense was undercut by how she did not yank herself from his grip. How she in fact leaned closer, relishing the warmth of his breath against her skin.

“Liar.” He was smirking, but it didn’t reach his eyes. In contrast, they seemed sharp enough to draw blood. It was all so at odds with his usual laid-back, mischievous air. He sounded far too solemn, and it set her on edge.

“I’m not a liar,” she whined. “I really am fine. I just want us to cover as much ground as we can before the sun comes up.”

He sighed, eyes closing for a moment. She felt her body slumping forward, freed from the iron-strong hold of his gaze. Her fingers were tingling, sharp pin-pricks piercing at her skin now that they were being warmed. It hurt, and tired as she was, she couldn’t stifle the whimper in her throat, needing to move her hands to bring feeling back into them as the discomfort grew.

Astarion’s eyes snapped open at once, his hands tightening on hers. His annoyance was gone, concern etched across his face. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

She winced, wiggling her fingers. “I need to move my hands. They’re hurting.”

Eyes widening, he nodded, releasing them at once. He remained silent as she shook her hands out, clenching them into fists and flexing them out again over and over until the worst of the pain had subsided.

“Does it feel better?” His voice was whisper soft, and with the dull boom of thunder in the distance she might not have known he’d spoken at all were it not for the cloud of breath that hung in the air.

She nodded, tucking her hands against her body. “A little. It’s not great though.”

A twitching of his brow, like the shiver of a tree branch in the wind. “So you admit you’re not fine.”

“Well I never said that.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Darling, it’s implied. If your hands hurt so much from the cold that you cried then you are most certainly not fine.”

“I didn’t cry!” Well she might have cried, just a little. But it hadn’t been intentional, and it had only been one small whimper. Surely she couldn’t be faulted for that.

From the look of incredulity he fixed on her, it was clear that he could fault her for it. And that in fact he would fault her for it, quite gleefully, if only to press his point.

“You did cry a little, my dear.” He pinched her side, smirking as she yelped. “And while normally I adore your cries, considering the circumstances I don’t think they’re from pleasure.”

A gust of wind tore at them, rattling through the trees, tearing at their clothes, their cloaks and hair fluttering in the air. Her teeth chattered, her hands trembling against her sides.

He chuckled, although there was little mirth in the sound. He stepped closer, pressing his brow to hers, his breath curling against her lips. “You’re doing nothing, but proving my point.”

“I’m fine, I’m really fine!” She didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to be a dead weight, didn’t want to hold him down. He needed freedom, he needed someone who was not weak.

“Even your voice is trembling.” He was speaking in a sing-song cadence, reminding her of all the nights where he had teased her, using only his words to make her needy for his touch. “And while I do so love when you shake, you’re not shaking for me.”

“Well…” She slid her hands free from the confines of her cloak, pressing her palms to his chest. “Maybe there’s a way you can warm me up? Then I would be shaking just for you.”

“A tempting offer.”

Aspen did her best to smile, her muscles rigid as death from the unforgiving elements. She wanted to appear coy, and yet she feared the only thing she looked was pained. “Tempting enough to think of a way to warm me?”

She’d been certain he would at the very least respond with a teasing innuendo, perhaps a suggestive touch, even a darkening of his eyes. But Astarion did not respond in any way she had anticipated, no smirk, no titillating little comments. He did not even touch her, instead pulling away until there was a chasm between them, his brow furrowed in dismay.

“As enticing a suggestion that is,” he said, his voice so dry she could have used his words for kindling to actually warm her. “I will have to pass this time. I find our current circumstances are not suited for any manner of lovemaking.” He kept his gaze fixed on hers the entire time he spoke. She felt frozen, her body pulled taut, and she doubted she’d be able to move even if she’d tried.

“Because of the weather?” She tried, wishing he would touch her again.

“No.” His response was sharp, harsh as the icy wind. “I’m simply not in the mood, not when I feel borderline furious.”

That seemed a bit of an over-exaggeration, but Astarion seemed to feel things five times as intensely as she did, and she was not about to stifle his emotions. He was upset, and he was upset at her.

She opened her mouth to say something, to apologize, to ask what she had done to provoke his ire, but he waved a hand in the air, silencing her.

“Don’t.” He sighed, so loud the branches shook. “I don’t want you to apologize.”

Her teeth clicked as she closed her mouth, another shiver going through her.

Astarion looked away, and it made Aspen squirm. She didn’t want him to be upset, she didn’t want to hurt him, she didn’t want to be the cause of his hurt.

For a moment there was silence, but for the sighs and huffs Astarion made as he mulled whatever he was thinking over. Finally, after an eternity, he looked back at her, his brow still furrowed, his mouth a crescent-moon frown.

“I would have liked it if you’d told me you were feeling poorly. We could have looked for somewhere to stay until the storm passed.”

She kicked at a rock, looking away before he could pin her with that ruby-bright stare. “I didn’t want to be a burden. I can handle a little cold.”

A disgruntled noise burbled from the back of his throat, and she snorted, used to his sounds of discontent. “You’re not a burden.”

She huffed now, arms tensing around herself as she glared down at the soggy ground. The unending storm and the exhaustion weighing her down had spread her patience thin, and she could feel the last of it snapping. “Well I don’t want to ever be one. I don’t want to hold us up. I don’t want to be weak.”

The last thing she’d expected in response was laughter, and yet that’s exactly what she heard. Astarion chuckled softly, his hands slipping beneath her cloak to find her hips.

It took her by surprise, and she looked up quickly, only to find that his gaze had softened, lines no longer marring his brow, his lips no longer pinched into a frown.

“What is it?” Suspicion coiled in her belly, an oily snake ready to strike, making her squirm. “Why are you laughing?”

Her bewilderment only made him laugh harder, eyes crinkling. “My darling, you know I find you terribly adorable, right?”

“What did I do?!” Her voice cracked, trembling as she tried to figure out why he was laughing at her.

He shook his head. “Nothing, darling. But you don’t need to worry about being a burden, or about being weak.”

“But I-”

He tapped her lips with his index finger, quieting her. He was no longer laughing, but he was still smirking at her, his mischief returned, and she supposed she could be content with that. “Do you trust me?”

She nodded, wrinkling her nose as a snake of anxiety coiled around her belly. “I do. Why?”

Another tap to her lips, his smile widening. “Don’t look so suspicious, dearest. I’m not planning anything villainous.”

“That expression begs to differ.”

He pulled his lips into a pout, giving her puppy-dog eyes. “What’s wrong with my expression?”

Another shiver wracked through her body, and the desire to curl against him nearly overwhelmed her. But she sensed he was on the verge of teasing her terribly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to give him the satisfaction of falling for his charms.

“Oh darling, don’t frown.” He sighed, shaking his head as he gently ran the pad of his thumb over her brow, smoothing away the lines of her frown. “There are much prettier expressions you can make for me.”

A flicker of heat bloomed in her cheeks, although it was far from welcome despite the cold. She looked away, huffing, trying to ignore how nice it felt to have his fingers tracing over her face with such gentleness. “What was your point? I trust you, although you are trying my patience.”

He stepped closer, not bothering to cringe at the squelch of mud beneath his boots. “I want you to look at me, darling.”

She did not, instead ducking her head to sulk further. Why shouldn’t she, anyways? He’d gotten mad at her because she’d been cold, and now he was going to tease her.

Much to her chagrin, Astarion did not allow her long to brood. His fingers slid down her jaw, curling beneath her chin. He was gentle at first, trying to turn her face up, but when she resisted he clicked his tongue, gripping her more firmly.

“Don’t be such a brat, darling,” he said, lowering his head, eyes bright as they searched for hers.

“I’m not a brat!” Her head snapped up before she could think anything through.

And once she had thought it through, she realized she’d been had. Astarion was smirking broadly, far too pleased with how easily he’d provoked her.

“Well,” he said, brows arching high. He still had his hand on her chin, and he seemed unwilling to let her go. “Now that I can finally see your face, darling, we can talk.”

She rolled her eyes, but all that did was earn a bubble of laughter as he cupped her cheek with his other hand.

“Do you know how precious you are to me?” He said, laughter in his voice.

“I-” She stammered, struggling to understand what he was talking about. “What?”

He hummed, his smile smug. “Evidently not.”

“What does this have to do with you being mad at me over being cold?” Her words were not as crisp as she’d hoped, more reminiscent of wilting flowers than icicle sharp. She was tired, she wanted to curl up in his arms, she wanted to be warm.

“Because…” He trailed off, eyes bright with devilish delight. He let his words linger in the air, drawing closer to her, softening his hold on her chin.

His expression morphed after a moment, and he looked at her with such gentleness she thought she might collapse and melt into the mud. It was so entirely at odds with his chilly look from earlier, the frosty annoyance when he’d realized the extent of her discomfort.

“Because?” She wished he would close the distance between them. He was not particularly warm, but he was warmer than she was right now, and she wanted his lips on hers, she wanted to be tangled in his arms. She wanted him to get to the point.

“I always knew patience was never one of your virtues, darling,” he mused, brushing away droplets of rain as he stroked her cheeks. “But can you not at least try? For me?”

Whatever he saw in her face must have delighted him greatly, because he laughed again. His hand slid to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pressed his forehead to hers, holding her there against him.

“Were it not so miserable out here I would prolong this a while longer,” he murmured, his words a breath on her lips. “I do so love to watch you squirm.”

“Maybe I really will get hypothermia and die,” she grumbled. Her heart wasn’t truly in it, but she felt the need to put up a petulant front, so he wouldn’t think this was working on her.

Undeterred by her act, Astarion pressed on, pinching her cheek sharply. “Don’t go talking like that, darling. Who would read to me at night if you went and died? Who would tell me how beautiful I am every day? Who would cry my name as prettily as you?”

At that she really did make an attempt to disentangle herself from his hold, although it was of little use. The cold had made her body stiff, slow, and he was already much faster and stronger than she. His arms tensed, and any attempt she made to escape was met with a snort and a sharp tug as he drew her close again.

He was too close for her to make out his expression, but she could feel his lips pulling into a pout, could feel the creases in his brow. “Don’t be like that, my love. I’m only telling you how dear you are to me.”

“Astarion.”

He sniffed. “I like it more when you call me pretty things. Like your lover, beloved, my sweet, most handsome creature you’ve ever seen, most skilled lover in the world. Really anything.”

She groaned, slumping forward. If he wasn’t going to release her then she was going to collapse into his arms and make him carry her.

“Woah, don’t fall over yet, darling.” His mouth grazed the side of her cheek, the feel of his smile hot against her skin. “You’ll have plenty of time to swoon for me later.”

“I thought you said you weren’t in the mood for anything,” she said, acid in her tone.

With a sigh, Astarion righted her once more, his smooth hands cupping her cheeks again as he drew back, studying her face. “Alright,” he said, finally conceding. “I won’t tease you any longer.”

He sighed again, brushing away raindrops as they spilled onto her face, his expression softening, gazing at her with such tenderness her knees felt weak. He was quiet a moment, only the sound of the rain as it pattered over the ground. When he finally did speak, his voice was feather soft, grazing against her cheeks in a rush of warmth. 

“There is nothing more important to me than what I’m holding now in my hands. I couldn’t care less about how long it takes us to get somewhere.”

He leaned close again, until his eyes were nothing more than a blur of crimson. Yet even though she could not make out his expression any longer, there was no mistaking the earnestness in his words, a part of himself that he only ever revealed to her.

“What I do care about is you.” His voice dropped, low and warm and insistent. “And I care about whether you’re okay. You are so precious to me, and I want to take care of you if there’s something wrong. I want to take care of you even if there’s nothing wrong, just because I want to.”

His grip tightened on her, his words determined. “So be a burden, be slow, be weak. I’ll be here with you, I’ll take care of you, always. Forever.”

Aspen hadn’t expected to cry, and yet her eyes burned nonetheless. So rarely was he so solemn, so sincere. He always showed his love for her ardently, his hand searching for hers as they travelled, his chin resting on her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist, little kisses when she was least expecting it, dragging her into his lap any chance he got. He would tuck her against him while she slept, his eyes would brighten whenever she laughed at one of his awful little jokes, he always passed healing potions to her before he tended to himself, much to her own chagrin.

But words such as this made her heart ache, made her feel like she was falling apart as a worn stuffed toy, much loved, came undone. He used his words to tease and trick and enact all manner of his melodramatics. But he was using them now to tell her such sweet things she felt like she was made of spun sugar, light and near-formless and melting with every drop of rain that fell on her.

She shivered again, before she could find the words to respond. The wind was beginning to pick up, and the drizzle of rain was growing stronger once more, returning to the deluge they had endured overnight.

She was cold, she was so terribly cold, and she was growing colder with every passing moment. Her mind slowed, unable to summon the right words. Her body grew heavy, leaden. She felt like she would fall over into the mud and dissolve into nothing.

“Oh my poor pet,” Astarion cooed. He wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking her as close as he could. “You can’t stop shivering.”

She whined, the last dredges of her ire blown away like pollen in the wind. She couldn’t stop shivering, not when her clothes were soaked through and her hair was practically glued to her skin and the wind was as sharp as knives slicing clean through her bones.

“That’s enough of this,” he said, sounding resolute. “We’re finding somewhere to rest, and to wait out this storm. An inn, a boarding house. Somewhere decidedly not outdoors.”

She couldn’t help the weak way she whined, her head falling against his shoulder. “Where? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

He patted her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “There’s always an inn somewhere, even in the middle of nowhere.”

“That doesn’t sound real,” she grumbled.

“Come on,” he murmured, peeling away to find her eyes. “Let’s get moving. If we stay here any longer you really will freeze to death.”

His brow creased, and he smoothed back her hair, readjusting her hood to protect her face, not that it was of much use anymore. “And we absolutely cannot have that.”

[willsimpforanyone]

If this isn't much, could you do a annabeth chase x any gender reader

Where the reader can sometimes look creepy (for example: they sometimes widen the mouth or just have creepy eyes) and how she handles it when that happens

interesting, some uncanny valley stuff, what a unique request

i'm gonna make the reader a child of moros, the greek god of doom, just for flavour

-------------------------------------

you have a Vibe about you

some people do not like the Vibe

annabeth loves the Vibe

being the child of the god of doom makes for some strange happenings around you

your mother used to put it down to you just having bad luck until you were older and it became less about your bikes being stolen and more about that kid that bullied you falling out a window every time he did it

before camp halfblood you were convinced you were doomed in everything you tried

you didn't even have a cabin initially so were allowed to stay in the hades cabin just because that would cause the least offence to anyone

chiron actually asked annabeth to ask you about your cabin and how you'd like it

he trusted her to be faithful to your vision and not offend the gods beyond reason

you were moping on the bottom of a bunk bed when she knocked on the door

'hey! i'm annabeth, i'm here to help you design the moros cabin-'

you simply moved away from her

'nope, back away now, i'm gonna curse you or something'

you didn't see her roll her eyes but you did feel her drag the blankets until you rolled onto the floor

you sat up and glared

'okay now i'm gonna curse you on purpose'

she shrugged

'i doubt it'll do anything, i've had to deal with much worse than moody doom demigods'

she sat down on the floor opposite you with a notebook and pen

'now, cabin, whatcha got'

slowly she got you to open up a little, asking about what kind of cabin you'd like to stay in, any caveats that should be put in place to counter the small accidents you'd get into on a daily basis

you ended up forgetting to blink for minutes on end, staring at the notebook with a strange intensity

annabeth noticed this and gave you the notebook for a moment, popping back to her cabin to get something

she returned with a spray bottle of eyedrops and spritzed you right in the face

you sputtered but realised your eyes were so dry and begrudgingly thanked her

you were more attached to her than you wanted to admit, she really didn't seem scared that you were doomed and would doom those around you

it was nice to have someone that wasn't reluctant to be near you

annabeth worked with you a lot to build the cabin and learnt your weird habits that made other people freak out a bit

she kept the eyedrops on her for when you forgot to blink

she'd gently exaggerate her breathing when you seemed to forget how to breathe or when you started breathing in a weird oracle-in-a-cave way

when she caught you staring at people she'd direct your attention somewhere else, mostly back to her

occasionally she'd visit your cabin to find you standing in the middle of the room, eyes completely white, black smoke emitting from your mouth and filling the room

this only happened when you'd had a nightmare or forgotten there was a whole world outside your door thinking you were totally alone

she'd cover her mouth from the smoke and take your hand, guiding you gently outside to the sun or the rain and remind you that you were not powerful enough to kill the whole world

you were safe, everyone was safe, she wouldn't let you hurt anyone ever again

she'd stay with you until you blinked back to yourself, ignoring all the stares from the other campers

you were always very apologetic but she made a joke of it, saying she liked having a partner that looked so dangerous but was really a softie

-------------------------------------

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoyed!

[mommyhelgayanderelover]

You're just on a research expedition on another planet, but something goes wrong

Pairing: yandere! planet! Primus x human! reader

You're sent on an expedition, and you don't understand why you're the one. There are far more deserving people on Earth. Still, you're going to get paid decently, so so be it

The planet, named Metal Titan by Earth scientists, is a boring place. Almost. A large metallic rock, several times the size of Earth, with a strange feature: suspiciously flat ravines going… Where to? Miles down? Or straight to the planet's core?

The planet is completely uninhabitable for human life. No oxygen, no food, no water. Nothing but unidentifiable metal

And yet you love the planet's sky. Dark purple, dark blue. And two moons that take up a lot of space in the sky.

But something's not right. You swear you've seen the trees on this planet several times with your own eyes. Soil. Fruit? But the minute you call in the other scientists, it all disappears. You seem to go mad in the wilds of space.

People fly away, leaving you alone; you're almost ready to beg to take yourself with them. You're alone on the planet - the only living thing… And that's not scary. What is scary is that you somehow know: you're not alone here

You're being watched. While you're sitting in your spaceship, when you get out of it… Someone's looking right at you, you feel a burning stare in your back. But there's no one behind you

One day you leave on a research mission deep into the planet, and when you get back to your camp, you notice there's nothing. No camp, no ship. Just the yawn of a dark, metallic ravine that has opened up right underneath everything that kept you alive. You're terrified

You count the amount of oxygen in your tank. An hour. You have an hour to live. Even better, you won't have to suffer a three-day death from dehydration.

… but when it's time to die, you decide to take off your spacesuit. Maybe a sip of poisoned atmosphere will kill you faster.

It didn't. You breathed like you would on Earth. Oxygen. There's oxygen on this planet? Impossible! The studies said otherwise

The wonders never cease. You see - you see it with your own eyes! - as the planet literally evolves before your eyes. Rivers appearing, trees, nature. Food growing on them. Exotic, but food. I think you even saw organic animals. But it's still a metal planet. You can still feel the metal beneath your feet

A crazy thought comes to you out of the blue. You think about the fact that it's not the planet that's intelligent…. It's the planet itself that's intelligent. The planet that didn't want to let you go, but still made it possible for you to live. You find nothing better to do than to ask in the silence of the whole world.

The planet is silent.

You almost exhale, and then you go to sleep. Only to wake up not on the surface of the planet, but somewhere very far beneath the layer of metal, where the dark ravines lead.

You get hysterical. You're running around in a weird-light cave, bashing metal walls, wiping your hands bloody. You don't want to die like this. You don't want to die at all

When it gets easier, you explore the caves. You don't explore for long. Soon enough, you find your ship and your camp. Safe and sound. However, on the suspiciously plain wall opposite the camp, in calligraphic handwriting in English, is written clearly: “Hello. I am Primus.”

You lose consciousness, and come to your senses in the camp on your soft (though not like a bed on Earth) bunk. There are strange metal tentacles looming next to you. Ribbed. Cold. You're ready to pass out one more time

This is insane. You're communicating with an intelligent planet. A planet. A huge cosmic body. The planet - no, Primus - says it studied, uh. Studied humans, and then stole your ship and camp from you so it could use the information and finally learn to communicate like a human. Couldn't, of course. The planet couldn't speak, but it could write on its own metal flesh with the ubiquitous plugs

Primus writes that he wishes no harm to humans or to you. But he was strangely lonely, and he's glad you decided to stay with him. You don't correct him, because it wasn't you who stayed voluntarily, but you were forced to stay. You think about how to correctly ask the planet to return your camp and your ship to the surface

Primus turns out to be very talkative. He talks, he asks, he wants to know everything about you. You want to know a little more about the intelligent planet, too, because you feel a Nobel Prize coming on. And a lot of money

As it turns out, Primus is indeed an intelligent planet, formed millions of years ago. But the term “planet” isn't quite right. It's not a planet, it's a giant robot, a computer. A mechanical life form. A planet is just a form. A form that at any moment can create another life form… and transform itself

When the information becomes enough and you start to get tired of living in the bowels of a living organism, you ask to let yourself out to the surface. It's time to go to Earth

Primus ignores that request

For the thousandth time.

You kick the nearest metal wall. Then Primus writes that he will never let you go.

You're hysterical again. You don't understand the planet's motivation, and the planet is slow to explain.

At some point, Primus opens a passage for you, but it doesn't lead up, it leads down. So you go, because you have no choice. And you come to-- To the core of the planet

The core of Primus is not like Earth's core. The core of Primus, he claims, is his soul, his spark. You're comparing that core to some super-computer powered by a spherical sphere.

Primus first asks you to come to the core, and then, when you refuse, he drags you to it by force, through the tight grip of the plugs. You can't resist the superior force of an entire planet.

When you're almost thrown into the arms of white light, everything disappears. When you open what you think are your eyes, you find yourself in a bizarre world of ones and zeros.

Is that what an intelligent planet thinks? You don't know. You don't know anything anymore because you don't even have a body. You're absorbed into the planet's interior, into the core. And there's no way of getting out

All signs of the organic life that Primus created for you are disappearing from the planet's surface. It no longer makes sense: his little organic man is now forever with him, in him, dissolved in the fields of his Spark.

Perhaps in billions of years another planet will crash into the planet, hitting the core. And perhaps one smaller organic moon will form next to Primus, instead of two moons, which will be his companion forever.

[ehlnofay]

Summerfest Day 3 - HUNGRY

It’s almost embarrassing, really, how utterly Arabella fails to realise what she’s going to do until she’s already halfway to doing it. (It certainly wouldn’t be the first time; she is less aware of herself, a lot of the time, than she would prefer to believe. Just think of how desperately she clung to the deep forest roads of Valenwood until her metaphorical fingers were dislocated with the force it took to rip her away; just think of the College, and how spectacularly that all went. Just think about nearly dying, her body almost left to deform with foreign rot into a foreign tomb’s dead dirt.)

It is after she and the two other Nightingales – still, the title wears strange in her head, as pretty as it is pompous – have dragged themselves, gagging and spitting, half-frozen, from the waterlogged cave, what little is left of their luggage soaked nearly through and their clothes almost iced; after they have set up some ratty little camp across the lake with what’s left, been spelled blisteringly dry, a hasty campfire lit with all the set-jawed, dogged ferocity of the sun. The sky is shaded dark, moons cut down to slivers. They’d sorted through what remained of their belongings, the spoils of their fight in the cave handled precious as blown glass; found an unreadable map and set of ruined playing cards, among other things, though Brynjolf’s prized ivory dice seem by some miracle to have made it unscathed; found little in the way of eatables besides a jar of dribbling-thin honey, cracked, seeping over everything else in the canvas pack, and a bag of soggy nuts. There isn’t so much as a wedge of cheese or some wet salted meat. Brynjolf and Karliah divvied the nuts up and ate them. Arabella lit the fire, then crouched down on her haunches in the snow and hissed breath through her teeth until she stopped seeing stars. Something a little too watery-thin to be blood started leaking from somewhere on her left hand; the creases that run through her palm and bisect the bends of her fingers have worn thin enough to glow. That used to only happen over the fascia of her palm. Probably a bad sign. But they got the bastard – and at the time, that was all that mattered. Arabella has never been very good at planning ahead.

Brynjolf has gone off in search of something more substantial to eat, though they all knew he’d be the worst pick for it – a city man through and through, that one. Arabella is of the Valenwood, so she’s as comfortable with hunting as she is with barter, and Karliah has spent the better part of the last decade in the wilderness on her own, but Arabella was preoccupied with swearing under her breath as the fire crackled itself properly to life and Karliah is searching through the damp dregs of their supplies for anything approaching medicine. She’s having precious little luck, even after Brynjolf’s tramped inauspiciously off into the snow; not much is left, and what is there is all of the sort she used after Arabella was stabbed in the belly of the tomb. The salve that stinks, grassy and green; the flaxen sutures she’d cut out of her own neck one by one. She expresses more consternation over this than Arabella does; Arabella just nudges the broken jar with the back of a knuckle (even that bloody stings) and tells her to just make a honey dressing. It’s the best thing they’re going to scrounge up.

She asks, after a moment’s silence, to see the Key; woodsmoke curls luxurious from the campfire (dead sticks, wet in the snow, doesn’t count when it’s unavoidable); Karliah puts it, gentle, into her hands. It’s cold against the blurry brilliance of her burns. Lavishly painful. Arabella bites down on her tongue until the rich copper-tang of blood – bright and meaty as bone marrow, and fuck, she’s hungry – distracts her. She looks at the Skeleton Key, hard-earned, personally meaningless but said to hold such great power, and she thinks, what now?

And then she thinks, oh.

(Arabella has never been very good at planning ahead, but she always has ideas running for what comes next – and next – and next. She didn’t mean to stay in the Guild as long as she did – but she’d been embroiled in a conspiracy, which caught her interest, and then she’d been cut open and left for decaying dead in an empty Nord tomb, which gave her something of a personal stake in this fight. And she’d been caught up in it; distracted by the present; because she so rarely plans ahead, and because she is less aware of herself, a lot of the time, than she would like to believe. But now the mystery is unravelled and her debt is paid, and there is nothing left to keep her here. Nothing substantial.)

(And if the Key is all it’s said to be –)

(Unlocks doors – throws open the blinds – looses the restraints and makes every possibility tangible, in the literal and unliteral sense – if it can do away with the limitations of a person, make them anything they want to be – good enough to do anything –)

(Well, then, she already knows what she’s going to do, doesn’t she. She has known since the beginning.)

A pit like a peach’s settles in her stomach as she turns the midnight-cold metal in her hands. She tells herself it’s anticipation, because she doesn’t know why it would be anything else

Karliah is tipping everything back into their overstuffed pack with sodden irritation. Arabella remarks, “It doesn’t look so special.”

“Powerful things rarely do,” Karliah says, sounding vaguely, smugly satisfied, and Arabella thinks, again, untapped abilities - thinks not just physical barriers – thinks limitless.

Arabella twists it again in her hands, frostbite-sharp against the worn, inflamed skin of them; there is still blood gushing into her mouth. She is still hungry. Lightly, she says, “It’s a shame we have to take it back.”

Karliah’s reaction to that is more understated than the feared it might be; she just exhales, mist-bright in the cold, and heaves their wreck of a pack nearer to the campfire. “You have no idea,” she replies – her tone surprisingly wry – and she holds the broken honey jar to the light. “It would be – incredibly useful for the Guild, for a little while. But the Mistress of Shadows has barely forgiven our last failure – she’d never let the Guild forget if we broke our oath again.”

Arabella twists the key again; watches stars spark and fizzle in its bow. “What we?” she asks, glib. “I wasn’t even here.” It shines, so very darkly, like the whole expanse of a sky; like an aurora, or an absence of it. It feels colder than metal usually does, smoother, too perfect to be the fruit of any forge or put to shape by any key-cutter. It winks with reflected firelight. “And what oath, I ask? I’ve still never had my end of the bargain.”

An exhale, short and sharp and almost-laughing. “Not until it’s returned.” With a faint noise of triumph, Karliah produces a bent metal spoon.

“She’s sharped me,” Arabella says with mock indignation; she licks her bloody tongue over the points of her teeth. Bluish light flickers over the key’s end, flashes bright in the crooks of its teeth. “Why, at this point – my due so recanted – I’d say our bargain doesn’t even count.”

The fire flickers, spitting charred wood embers; Karliah snorts. “You sold your soul,” she tells her, flat-voiced, sets the jar down, leaking, in the snow. She licks the honey off her fingers and pulls a face at its sweetness, looks, firelit, over her shoulder. “Mercer tried to outsmart Nocturnal, and you saw how it went for him. You can’t nitpick your way out of a contract – hell, even if we wanted to, even if we succeeded, she would exact the price and all accrued interest from it when we were dead, all the same.”

The Key glints. There is blood like mutton marrow in her throat. Arabella thinks limitless and Arabella thinks potential and Arabella is so desperately, ravenously fucking hungry.

She hums and says, slippery as her own oil-slick blood in the cave’s freezing water, “I’m not dead yet.”

(She didn’t think about what she would do next, because she never thinks about what comes next, because that would ruin it all; but she is always thinking about what came before, no matter how much she turns her head away. She can’t look away from it completely, the past pressed into the curls and creases of her palms, marked behind the lopsided rows of her teeth, braided into her hair. She hasn’t gone home in going on ten years and home is the bloody mess and meat of her heart; she craves it like sunlight, like air, like space to run. She misses it like a limb. She’s never full. She stayed as long as she could, and then longer still; stayed well past the point where it became glaringly inadvisable, because as Mercer learned tonight she is stubborn and she is vengeful and she is a child of the Valenwood who pays her fucking debts, but she conceded, in the end. Left, still owed and owing. And she’s never been able to escape it.)

(She didn’t want to leave, but she had to; she’d torn her gums to shreds and no matter how desperately she tried, how she remade herself and remade herself again, it all ended at the bounds of her own skin. She tried to make herself brave but skittish cowardice still pooled in the soles of her feet and valour lay just out of reach. She couldn’t contort herself enough to be a saviour. She was feral-fierce and runagate and all she could ever manage to do was watch it all as it burned, but if the Key works like they said – if she can turn it on herself, crowbar open the doors and tear out of her skin singing – make herself an ocean instead of a dish, spin herself any story she wants, be what she couldn’t when she realised she couldn’t stay – then there’s no choice, is there?)

(She has never wanted anything else. If it’s even on the table, then nothing she has now matters.)

She’s not quite glib enough, perhaps, because Karliah turns, her face sharply shaded under the edge of her ever-present hood, and she says with half a smile, “You’re not serious,” and Arabella doesn’t say anything at all.

The Key shines with all the glowing dark of nighttide; Karliah’s smile drops from her lips, languid as dripping syrup. “Arabella,” she says, quiet, breath misting in the frozen dark, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing.” The fire crackles. Something clearer than blood is beginning to dribble down the inside of Arabella’s wrist, into her sleeve. Her teeth click, arrowhead sharp. “I’m not doing anything at all.”

Karliah’s face goes cautious-blank as a clay mask in a theatre.

Then – and this is unexpected – she lunges, low, like a pouncing cat, and Arabella takes a hasty and instinctive step back, closes her hands around the cold line of the Key even as Karliah grasps for it, tearing with narrow fingers –

The snow is shocking cold against Arabella’s back; she snaps her teeth with little effect, Karliah prises her hands open, and then fucking ow ow ow it’s burning – rips the Key out of her grip, and, it feels like, half her blistered skin with it. In the very edge of her peripherals, Brynjolf reappears from the little thicket. Karliah reels back as if Arabella might try to follow; Arabella stays in the snow, unsticks her jaw and lets out a high, sodden whine. (Wearing pain so openly is not her instinct. But this way, Brynjolf sees it. And it really does hurt.)

Brynjolf comes running, asks what on earth is happening – “She scratched my hands,” Arabella snarls, on the heels of a sharp, fluting curse, and shoves herself up, clasping them, red and weeping, to her chest. “Of all the thankless – I lit them on your hearth –”

Karliah’s clay-flat face falters, for a moment, but all she says is, “I don’t want her holding the Key.”

“Well, congratulations!” Arabella snips. “I’m not! Will someone please give me the honey? I’m bleeding again.” She is; though it’s perhaps closer to pus, skin raked up and inflamed in neat nail-lines. It’s an interesting contrast to the blooming curls and swirls of the base scars. Hurts like nothing else. She’s still keening, breath ragged; Karliah tucks the Key silently into a pocket inside her jacket, and Arabella marks its placement through squinting-shut eyes.

“I left for fifteen minutes,” Brynjolf says, one brow raised and hair still damp; “how did you have time to fight? I couldn’t find anything for you,” he adds, with something like sympathy. “Sorry.”

Fire crackles, bright on the snow. Arabella says tightly, “It’s fine. And we’re masterfully gifted at squabbling, I suppose – I certainly am. Help me with my hands.”

Brynjolf lathers them, ineptly, in honey mixed with river-water, an inelegant sort of poultice, and does a much better job of binding them with the cut-up ends of a woven wool tunic. Green-dyed; but she can only afford to be so picky. And she won’t have to keep making concessions, soon enough. He’s happy enough to start talking, changing the subject, and Arabella is very good at pretending things never happened (she does it all the time) (she’s beginning to do it now) so Karliah is the only one who stays reticent and watchful. Arabella catches her imparting, in low tones, that she’d been acting strange, but Brynjolf doesn’t put too much stock in it and Arabella spends the rest of the night being very, very careful not to give the assertion credence. Brynjolf has brought back a heaping pocketful of berries that Karliah says are safe to eat and nothing else; Arabella licks what’s left of the honey jar clean. It tastes wet and swampy. They all turn in early, then, snow kicked onto the fire to smother it into something more safely self-contained. Karliah doesn’t stop looking at her. Arabella doesn’t meet her eyes.

By morning, it will have burnt down completely, and Arabella will be gone. There’s no other way it could go. This is a singular chance; and she would burn all the flesh clear off her carpal bones before she can let it slip through her fingers.

[ominoose]

𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐒𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭

Characters: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley x Reader Blurb: What each of the Moon Knight men would be like playing Minecraft.

☽ 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩 - The Builder

× Expect your Minecraft world to be 100% vegan. No animals are allowed to be harmed in this world because "There's enough of that in the real world!". When you first spawn in Steven will be off destroying all the grass in sight for seeds, leaving you to start breaking trees. If you gather any dropped saplings and apples to give to him he'll be endeared, promising to plant several trees at your future base in your honour.

× Building an actual base will take ages. Steven will be extremely picky about where you settle down and will force you to wander several biomes for several days to find somewhere worthy, somewhere with a view. His favourite place to set up camp would be next to a pyramid or sand village, but you'll have to force him to move on on account of there being no actual resources or places to grow the farm he's insistent on.

× When Steven's finally found somewhere worthy of a base, he'll get to building without asking, silently expecting you to go take care of everything else. If you've managed to convince him not to play on peaceful, your first port of call should be mining for coal to make torches to keep mobs away at night, then craft sheers because, again, no animals are allowed to be harmed ever (he will know and you will be hearing a loud "Oi!" down the mic).

× If he so much as clocks any sort of non animal or villager mob at any distance he'll be startled and shutting himself inside, shouting at you to "Kill it, bloody kill it!", his pacifist streak temporarily gone. When he's not under threat of zombies sitting under trees 70 blocks away in another biome, he'll be decorating your base with all the flowers he can find, covering every single block ("No, it's not a mess, it's art. You know the Egyptians believed-").

× He will not go into any caves, ever. You managed to coax him once, piquing his interest with the prospect of glowstone that he could decorate your shared home with, but the moment he heard a cave sound he got such a fright the headset fell off. Steven has never went back.

× When you're out doing literally everything else to keep both of you going, Steven has secretly moved your Minecraft bed next to his and adopted ten dogs and seven cats.

"What? What- No love your bed was always next to mine, remember? Yeah! Yeah, totally- totally always been there. Why are the beds dyed red and blue? Well... Well it's British, innit?"

☽ 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙘 𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧 - The Fighter

× Minecraft with Marc is serious. It's tactical. His aim is to have the Ender Dragon gone within five minecraft business days. That goal has never been obtained in that time frame but he's insistent that it's possible. When you first spawn in you're expected to be gathering wood and killing any sheep in sight, he want's a basic base of dirt created before night down and if you haven't at least got a set of stone tools, beds and torches he'll be brooding, "If you actually took things seriously, we could've been in The End right now.".

× If you don't like fighting mobs like zombies or skeletons Marc will be teasing you for it, for a good while at that. However, the moment you get hit by even a baby zombie he is charging over with an enchanted sword, full armor set, jumping and swinging at the enemy mob. From that moment on he will demand you to put on a full armour set if you haven't already, "I don't care about your stupid skin, put on the helmet now."

× Tries to be a red stone engineer every now and again, making automatic farms and tries to calculate how to properly take advantage of the villager economy but fails every time without fail, sending him into a huff. The only thing he can truly manage is carts, so if you can sort out some red stone contraptions for him he will be genuinely impressed, maybe even leaving some cool loot in your chests when you aren't looking.

× Marc complains when you bring a single dog home, and only further complains when you bring home a whole pack, "I'm not feeding them or looking out for them when you get yourself blown up!". However, given some time, he will feed them and die for them. Marc is the first to name them, giving them cliche names like Buster, Lucky, Oreo, coupled with a few Star Wars themed ones like Chewy. If you draw too much attention to it he will deny it, but if you don't, and you're traveling together, you might hear him mutter a "Good boy." when he makes the dogs sit. What you won't hear is him speaking for a good ten minutes if one of the dogs die, and trying to get him to talk will only get you snippy responses.

"No. I'm not sad. No, I don't miss Woof2D2. Drop it."

☽ 𝙅𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙮 - The Miner

× Jake is the most casual Minecraft player. Nothing scares him, nothing startles him, it's almost uncanny how relaxed he is with the game. When you spawn in he's just ambling around, whistling as he breaks some trees, maybe even picking a few flowers, "Do a twirl amigo." as he throws them at you like he's at a strip club. When he passes some mobs he'll casually mutter greetings, "Hola vaca, hola oveja, hola enredadera," before he starts attacking them, still whistling. He'll be perfectly happy to build a 6x6 dirt base and live in it permanently, so you will have to take over base building.

× Whatever you want to do, Jake will go with it. You want to follow a treasure map? He's stocking on food. You want to fight the Ender Dragon? He's crafting arrows. You want to go fishing? He's overjoyed, already at the nearest body of water and singing a little tune. When you don't have a particular to-do list ready and you're both just hanging around, he'll be in the mines, and he will stay in the mines until you need anything. Unless you call him out, asking for supplies or wanting to go somewhere, he will be in there for days on end, crafting chests to empty his ever growing inventory. Cave sounds and creepers don't scare him at all, if you ever join him in the caves and get a fright he'll be letting out a full belly laugh at you, and every now and again will creep up on you shouting "Boo!" to spook you, giggling mischievously to himself.

× The plus side to him constantly yearning for the mines is your endless supplies of ingots, diamonds, obsidian, etc. By the fifth day in you are fully decked out in armour, compasses, shears and could power a working, life-sized, red stone television. It seems to sooth him, just being able to mind his own business wandering the caverns while hacking at stone with his pickaxe, so if you ever need a single thing from the caves he will be chomping at the bit to do it.

× Jake only has beef with one group of mobs, and it's the Pillagers. The first time he saw them scouting nearby with a flag he was confused, "¿Qué? Why are the ugly squid men here?", thinking they're stray villagers as he goes to trade some emeralds. For the first time ever he is startled when they attack him, thinking they are out to avenge all the Villagers he secretly bullied when you both found a village. Jake fights back viciously, for the first time in some sort of huff as he plays and cusses out the screen when he dies.

× It will take a bit for him to get back into his relaxed mood after the ordeal, if he comes back to the game at all. Coax him with some foods other than meat, like a cake, cookies, baked potato, etc and he'll cheer up as if you've actually baked something for him in real life,

"Oh? Gracias. I will use this as fuel when I go back to murder the rest of those calamares bastardos."

[dyns33]

Fucking fate - ending 1

Vaas x soulmate Y/N 

I had two ending in mind, so this is Y/N’s ending 

Everything had happened very quickly.

One day Vaas was the king of Rook Island, or at least the part that Hoyt let him control. The next day Carlos was leading Y/N quickly away from camp because Snow White was attacking and it was too dangerous to stay here.

Vaas' order.

Vaas, whose death was announced a few hours later throughout the island.

This news came as a shock to Y/N. She had imagined that people felt something when their soulmate died. A vibe. The breaking heart. Anything. But no, a pirate had given the news, which had echoed in the cave where the small group was hiding, and panic had gripped everyone.

Always calm and loyal, Carlos stayed close to her, awkwardly patting her on the back. Then, when the others had been too busy wondering what they were going to do, not paying attention to them, he had led her to the square, asking Benny to follow him.

Of all the pirates, Carlos and Benny respected their boss the most. Even dead, they weren't going to stop.

They went to a small port that the Rakyats had not taken yet, where a boat was waiting for them.

     "Well, you go in with her and take her to the embassy of her nearest country. Then, you do what you want." Carlos announced with a straight face.

     "But... And you ?!"

     "Relax, princessa. I'm staying here, trying to kill Snow White and regain control of the camps. You're leaving. You're going to live your life somewhere else, safe. That's what the boss would have wanted. Benny, you don't leave her until you're sure she's safe."

     "Of course not. I remember the time she met a tiger. The boss broke my nose and three ribs. I'll follow her like her shadow."

     "Good. Go, now !"

This was the last time Y/N saw Carlos, and Rook Island.

As promised, Benny stayed with her until she found herself in front of an office surrounded by soldiers, bureaucrats and doctors, who asked her many questions, checked on her and called her relatives to tell them that she was alive.

That was the last time she saw Benny. Before letting her into the embassy, he had wished her good luck, telling her that he was going back to Rook. He couldn't leave his hermanos like a coward.

Her family and friends were all very happy to find her. They took her in their arms, kissed her and repeated to her that they had missed her very much, crying.

Y/N cried too, realizing that she hadn't thought of them at all during the time she had spent on Rook, focused on Vaas, her soulmate, who was dead. She hadn't had time to mourn him before, in shock.

She didn't tell anyone about him. For ten years, everyone around her thought that she had been captured by pirates who had treated her well, that she had managed to escape, and that she could now resume a normal life, with the hope of meet her soulmate one day.

It was torture.

Every night she dreamed of the times they had spent together. Of the last time she had seen him.

     "Fucking Jason is coming, nena. He's crazy, worse than me. I don't want... As soon as the alarm goes off, you go with Carlos, okay ? You go with Carlos and you stay with him until let me come to get you."

     "Why don't you come with me ?" she asked, as if at that moment she knew very well that he wouldn't come back.

     "I have to face him. It's crazy, I must be as crazy as him, I've killed him four times and he's still here. We won't be safe until he's completely dead. I have no choice, mi corazon. But don't be afraid, I won't let anyone hurt you."

He had kissed her forehead and he had hurt her forever by losing his stupid fight. He could have just come with her, they would have left this cursed island and they would have been happy.

Unable to lead a normal life after what she had been through, Y/N traveled extensively. She didn't go back to Rook, there was nothing for her there, and besides she avoided most of the islands, but she couldn't stay in one place for too long.

That was how she found herself near the border of Yara.

It was out of the question to go to Yara of course, too dangerous. It was totally a coincidence that Y/N happened to be in this bar near the beach.

 A coincidence, if it was a place frequented by the smugglers. A coincidence, if that day, two of them were right next to her at the counter, speaking Spanish.

Coincidence, or fate.

The voice of one of the men sounded familiar. Turning her head, she saw his back, but she could see his Mohawk, his scars, and the tennis ball with a face sticking out of his pocket.

His colleague noticed her watching them, waving at the man, who turned his green eyes in her direction. They stared at each other for an eternity.

He had aged. Normal, after ten years. He looked tired, even more tired than when she had met him. Maybe darker too, less crazy, even if the tennis ball showed he wasn't in his right mind.

     "... Vaas ?" she managed to say, not trusting her voice, nor her eyes.

As on the island, everything happened very quickly. One moment her soulmate was dead, the other Vaas lifted her off the ground, spinning her around the bar, not listening to her cries of panic, before kissing her again and again.

     "Nena ! Y/N, mi Y/N ! You're alive ? Are you really here ?! Pedro, she's really here ?!"

     "I don't know who's this girl, but yes, she's here." sighed his colleague. "We shouldn't attract attention, remember ?"

     "Shit, shut the fuck up, that's my mate and I thought she was dead. Fucking Carlos, he wasn't in the cave anymore when I managed to drag myself in. No trace of you left ! Then I found his body. That asshole got killed by the Rakyats. I was sure... Oh, mi amor ! You're alive ! The world was so bland without you ! I feel like to be reborn !"

     "You really can't do this anywhere else ?" the other smuggler begged, as everyone in the bar looked at them.

They walked to the beach, Vaas refusing to let go of her hand, as if she would disappear if he didn't touch her. He had often had visions of her, he wasn't sure it wasn't a dream.

     "Carlos and Benny sent me away from the island when they found out... Everyone thought you were dead." Y/N whispered, letting him rub his head against her neck like a big cat.

     "I thought I was dead too, but Brody's not good with a knife. I almost died, but it wasn't the first time I got stabbed. Did they really make you leave ? Shit, I should have buried Carlos instead of spitting on him. I was pissed. He could have left a note to tell me !"

     "You were dead."

     "Still !" Vaas said indignantly, finally calming down a bit, resting his head on her shoulder. "It was hard, nena. I lost everything that day. My island, my men, and you. I wanted to kill Jason, but my sister was faster. It was over. I thought about jumping off a cliff, but it wasn't a nice ending. I thought you wouldn't be happy. So I left. I wanted to visit your hometown, but I couldn't. Hurt too much. Shit, hermosa, you're here ! You're really here ! Hey... No, don't cry, querida, don't cry."

Y/N didn't listen to him, hugging him while sobbing. It was hard to know if it was joy, stress, or a bit of both.

Like when they were on the island, the first few nights when she cried a lot, Vaas massaged her back, kissing her neck and repeating reassuring words, singing a lullaby in Spanish, until she calmed down. 

     "Are you... Are you staying with me this time ?" she asked shyly.

     "Of course. You're coming to Yara ? I have a small house near a lake. I built it myself. It's quiet, not far from the village and the sea. Little Vaas and I go there often."

     "Little Vaas ?"

     "Yes, I'll introduce him to you. I've told him a lot about you, he'll be happy to meet you. And I'm Vaas the nice smuggler, I help people. Well, I still sell drugs and drugs. weapons, and I transport humans, but because they ask me to, I don't sell them ! No more piracy, I'm clean. Almost."

     "... And if I don't want to go to Yara ?"

They had this discussion about Rook Island. Vaas refused to leave, he loved his kingdom too much. Now they were very far away, they had changed. He looked at her intensely, before nodding, cupping her face in his hands with a very serious expression.

      “We'll go where you want, mi reina."

     "Well... I want to see your house. And meet little Vaas."

     "Nena, if this is a dream, please don't let me wake up."

He then pressed his forehead against hers, before kissing her and pressing his head against his chest again, to listen to her heart, with the sound of the waves in the background, and Y/N also hoped that she was not not dreaming.

She imagined them in Vaas' cabin, which was probably not very well built, with little Vaas, who must have been a dog or a tiger. Heaven.

     "Well, that's cute, but we're going to be late !" shouted the other smuggler who was standing near the bar, to give them some privacy.

     "Pedro is boring." said a small voice. "He's not as cool as Carlos."

     "That's right, little Vaas." replied Vaas, resuming his normal voice. "Too bad he died, he was nice and he protected my nena. It's not fair."

     "... The tennis ball in your pocket is little Vaas, right ? You don't have a tiger." "You want a tiger, nena ?"

     "No. I want to go home." she whispered, even though she had already been there since he had jumped on her in front of everyone.