#he wasn’t a starter villager

[dumvivimus-vivamus-please]

I lost my island a few days ago and finally up the courage to restart. But everything is okay once I realized Zucker was going to be apart of this new journey. 💚

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the breakfast

lilac, chapter two

a/n: when my love, @chvoswxtch, asked me to bring the horny energy of miss patty from gilmore girls, of course I fucking did it, I'm not a criminal, that's what we all deserve

summary: “well, hello stranger.” 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, wholesome villagers being adorable

word count: 2373

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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The Lilac Inn wasn’t just an inn to the citizens of Dunbrook. It was its beating heart, a hub for the small community to gather. 

As the town’s only culinary establishment, the residents had always made a habit of eating a fair amount of their meals in the inn’s dining room, the door to the kitchen often staying wide open so that Harvey wouldn’t have to leave the stove in order to catch all of the juicy small-town gossip that had people blabbering. 

“Dad, did you turn off my alarm?” you snapped as soon as your scurrying feet carried you into the bustling kitchen.

Not lifting his eyes from the loaf of bread he was currently slicing, your dad simply countered with a jovial, “well, good morning to you too, sleeping beauty!”

“Dad,” you sighed, jaw clenching at his usual demeanour, the paralysing dream you’d just roused from not setting you up to be in the right mood for such a level of positivity. 

“You just looked like you could use the extra hour or two,” a smile still warm on his lips, the middle-aged man defensively raised his hands.

“But I’m supposed to help you out,” your eyes followed his movements as he trotted towards the stove, “I can’t do that if I’m asleep.”

“Exactly,” your dad passed by a hook full of tangled textiles and tossed you an apron, “that’s why I let you go a little longer so that you wouldn’t doze off on me before lunchtime arrives.” 

“I wouldn’t have dozed off…” you mumbled pettily as you tied the linen around your waist. Exhaling lowly as you watched him crack two eggs into a sizzling skillet, you asked, “what can I do?”

“Well for starters,” he tossed the shells into a small scrap bowl to his side, “these were the last eggs, so if you could go get some more out by the front desk, that would be superb.”

“Why do you have eggs on the front desk?”

“Because Otto’s chickens are laying a lot right now and so he told me he’d give me some today when he swung by for breakfast.” 

“Wait, Sheriff Nilsen has chickens now?”

“Yeah, has for a long time,” the decade of you not living here grew palpable, “he usually just drops the extra ones off here, so they should already be there because I just took his order two minutes ago.”

“Alright,” you disappeared through the back door and snaked down the narrow corridor, ending up behind the messy reception area. 

Your eyes didn’t have to search for long before you noticed the petite basket, brimming with beige eggs, resting on the top of the counter right beside the small rolodex that displayed what date it was. Grasping it in your hand, your vision momentarily drifted down to the small, framed photo nuzzled behind the ever-open logbook. Sitting on the swing that still hung from one of the sturdy trees out back, head adorably posed in a tiny palm, there a 7-year-old version of you sat, forever frozen in that singular moment, beaming up at the camera. 

“Ah!” a sharp voice boomed as you heard the front door swing shut, “oh my goodness, oh my god! Y/n!”

Raising your chin, your eyes grew wide at the rotund woman beaming at you from the doormat, “miss Rays!” you hurried around the front desk, “oh my god, it’s been so long!” 

Capturing you in a hug, she pressed your form into her bosom, “darling, we’re not in bed together, call me Donna.”

Pulling back with a light chuckle, your eyes fluttered over her features, “you haven’t changed one bit,” her lipstick still a fiery shade red and hair still short and feathery framing her plump cheeks.

“You however have,” she clasped your free hand in hers, guiding your figure to give her a good view, “oh, do a little spin for me,” you bashfully obliged with a giggle, “yes! Honey, who is this woman, what have you done with the adorable little girl I used to tutor?”

To your knowledge, Dunbrook never really had a proper school, but for as long as you could recall Donna had always operated as a teacher to the handful of children that called the reclusive mountain village their home. Even though it was just run out of her living room, she had still been the best teacher you’d ever had, her patient way rivalling any of the professors you had to endure when you went off for college. As a matter of fact, she had been the person who’d pushed you to send in the application, praising that you were too clever not to go out and change the world. 

“Oh, stop it,” you sighed light-heartedly, a chuckle still bubbling out of your chest as you shifted the subject away from your own appearance, “so, you still come here for breakfast?”

“Of course, I do, you’ve tasted your father’s cooking,” readjusting her purse, she hooked her arm in yours, “a real shame that he’s never accepted any of my offers of becoming your stepmom,” she leaned in to add as you crossed over the threshold into the dinner room, “I could have been served all my meals in bed like some Egyptian queen!” 

“I’m sure you can easily find another fellow that can handle himself in the kitchen,” the click-clack of her heels came to a stop by one of the small round tables, her eyes briefly taking in the other patrons before a slight crease appeared betwixt her polished brows. 

“Oh, darn it,” her vision stayed glued to the table in the corner as she lowered herself onto her seat, “he’s not sitting at his usual table…”

“Who?”

“The eye candy over there,” she tilted her chin in the direction of the broad, muted flannel-clad back of the man sitting by the window furthest down at the bottom of the room, “you see, I asked your dear father to always reserve this spot for me just so that I can have a great view, if you know what I mean…” gulping down the rest of his coffee, the man’s head tilted enough for you to recognise whom the rugged looking visage belonged to, “oh boy, I tell you, if I was 30 years younger…”

Haven assumed that you’d never again run into the stranger who’d helped you just the day before, a warm flutter suddenly trickled down your spine, “like that’s ever stopped you before,” you pointed out, snapping your eyes out of their trance, “so, uh, do you know what you want to eat or do you just want some coffee or something while you think on it?” you took two steps towards the oblong table where mismatched teacups where stacked and the steam of a few thermoses, all containing a different hot beverage then the next, billowed out.

“Some coffee would be lovely,” she smiled as you with one hand snatched up a mug and the decanter labelled as such, “and some oatmeal if you don’t mind, sweetie.”

Promptly pouring her a cup, you then signed off with a wink, “you got it,” before your vision landed upon the latest of Donna’s abundant infatuations once more. 

Attempting to make the short journey seem spontaneous and effortless, you bounced from table to table, topping off people's cups, before reaching the final one. 

Drawing in a deep breath, your embarrassingly giddy voice then found his ears, “well, hello stranger.” 

Eyes flickering away from the newspaper sprawled out before him, a look of shock washed over his gruff features as he glanced up at you, “oh, hi.”

“Pete–, it is Pete, right?” you checked, slight mortification beginning to brew within your belly. 

“Yes, ma'am,” his head nodded ever so slightly.

“Do you want a refill, Pete?” you savoured the taste of his name on your tongue. 

“Sorry?” his brows furrowed at your offer. 

“Your coffee,” you pointed with the hand that clutched the handle of the thermos, “do you want some more?”

“Oh,” he breathed, though the puzzled look didn’t seem to fade, “yes, always.” 

Leaning in slightly over the newspaper, you filled up the drained mug, only a murky ring at the bottom indicating what it had previously contained, “and can I get you something to eat as well?” 

Eyes narrowing, he stared up at you, “is your vacation really already so boring that you got a job here or what?”

“Oh,” you couldn’t help but breathe out a light chuckle as you answered, “I’m not on vacation and I guess, kinda,” staring back into his eyes as you attempted to repeat your question, “so, do you want any–,” though before you could finish the sentence, out pranced your father, a plate of food balanced in his palm. 

“2 eggs sunny side up and some sourdough toast, as per usual,” he sang as his long arm came down to slice the air between your forms, placing the dish upon the table. 

Briefly catching his eye, Pete then offered a polite nod of gratitude, “thank you,” folding the paper up and scooting the meal closer. 

Feeling the small basket of eggs disappear from your grip, you blinked back at your father as he softly requested in your ear, “honey, could you give me a hand in the back when you’re done out here?”

“Sure, dad,” you flashed him a smile before watching him disappear once more. 

Feet still glued to the floorboards right by Pete’s table, your vision then returned to him as his deep voice washed over you, “so, you’re Harvey’s kid, then?”

“Yep, that’s my dad,” your balance briefly shifted as you rocked on the balls of your feet, “thank you, by the way, for yesterday.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” his fork punctured one of the golden yokes, “how’s your car looking?” 

“I don’t really know yet. The local mechanic is taking a look today, so fingers crossed it’s not anything too catastrophic,” you felt your palms begin to sweat as he simply stared up at you in silence, “anyhow,” you averted your gaze nervously, “I’ll stop bothering you, let eat in peace,” you nearly bumped into the chair behind you as you backed up towards the kitchen, the near accident not managing to draw any words out of him, only the hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips, “see you around, I guess…” 

“Hey, dad?” 

Briefly raising his eyes from the logbook cracked open on the wooden counter, he glanced up at you as you bounced down the wide staircase, “yeah, pumpkin?”

Hand tracing the railing, with the aid of the grip, you swung your form around the last post as you ascended the final step, “did you know that the hot water doesn’t work? Like at all.”

“Yeah, that and about a million other things around here,” he sighed, vision returning to the ledger as you rested your folded-up arms upon the top of the reception, “this is a beautiful historic building… and what I mean by that is that there are too many things that either don’t work the way they should or at all. I am not a millionaire, honey. If I was, then the issues wouldn’t be piling up the way that they are…”

Bottom lip snug between your teeth, your mind raced a moment before you quietly theorised, “exactly how long is that list?”

Eyes racing to find your eyes, your father joked, “why? Did you become a contractor while living in New York or something?”

“No, but I was always the handy one out of the two of us,” you noted before your shoulders raised in an innocent shrug, “how hard could it be?”

“Let me get this right,” he raised a palm up between you as his eyes crinkled even further, “you’re telling me you wanna try and patch this place up?”

“Well, it couldn’t hurt the business side of things. When was the last time you booked out more than two rooms at a time here?”

“Oh, no, no,” the moustachioed man then began to shake his head, “you’re not turning this place into some fake, glossy tourist attraction.”

Swinging around to his side of the counter, you assured him, “hey, I’m not saying let's flood this place with tourists, but maybe just a handful more?” tilting your head in an attempt to catch his gaze that had now returned to the open book, “just enough to make ends meet, perhaps also enough to at some point hire someone else so that you won’t work yourself to death…” 

Eyes frozen on the page before him, a long exhale then flowed from his lungs as he deliberated. 

“Alright, fine, yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be that bad…” he tried to downplay the smile that blossomed upon his lips.

Spine pressed against the edge of the front desk, you then braced with your palms and hauled yourself up onto the spot that was just clear enough for you to sit there without knocking any knickknacks over. 

“So,” you drew out, searching for a new topic to explore, “Donna seems to be quite set on that guy Pete to be her new husband, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harvey chortled, “but you know her, she’s like a dog spotting a pheasant every time she sees a new man. I think genuinely I might be the only person in town who isn’t either terrified of him or has some desire to sleep with him.”

“How long has he been here anyway?”

“Eh,” he glanced up at the stained glass adorning the front door as he thought, “maybe a year or two? He mostly keeps to himself, lives up in a cabin in the woods and only really comes down here to either provide some firewood to whoever needs it or have some coffee,” vision landing on you, he then noted, “you however seemed to have broken through to him quite quickly. Took me like 5 months to get anything more than a grunt of recognition out of him.”

“Oh,” you couldn’t stop your eyebrows as they promptly rose up, “well, he kinda helped me the day that I got here. He was the guy I caught a ride with…”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[hephaestn]

It’s been a long time since Steve left Hawkins behind, since he left the summer of 1985 tightly locked in a corner of his mind.

He was happy in New York City, loved his apartment with Robin, loved the friends he had made here, breathed and exhaled warmth for this city which had so caringly taken him in. But, he felt hollow some days, especially the days where that lock would loosen and the memories would come back.

They were happy memories, for the most part. He cherished those ones, the ones which still made him smile to himself in the middle of the street. Though, when the bad ones hit, it was still unbearable.

He couldn’t think of Billy, of the way he could still remember the taste of his lips, the shape of his waist underneath his hand. He couldn’t think of how Billy left him one night with only a note to remember him by.

I had to. I’m sorry.

Those five words were still imprinted in Steve’s mind, forever echoing even after being torn apart and thrown into the trash that very morning.

Steve doesn’t really know why today his thoughts have traveled back in time to sunny days and endless love making nights. He needs a distraction, whichever it might be.

That’s why he accepts to join Robin and her coworkers for dinner. They’ve chosen a tiny place which had just recently opened in Greenwich Village. It’s cozy; wooden furniture and fairy lights, black leather chairs and artsy painted walls. Steve likes it, feels calm in it.

All of Robin’s coworkers are nice, they keep up the conversation, always making sure Steve feels included, which he greatly appreciates. Dinner is incredible, probably one of the most tasteful meals he’s had in… years.

As a starter the waiter brings out an assortment of bruchette, each one topped by ingredients from all the parts of the world; Italy, Greece, Mexico, Thailand, Morocco. Steve can’t help but lick his fingers after each bite.

Main course is hearty; a fresh sea urchin pasta. It tastes like the sea, like the infinite summers he’d spend as a child in Positano with his parents.

They get asked if they’d like a second course which everyone at the table is quick to deny since they’re all full and ready to leave some room for dessert. The waiter tells them the last course and liquors will be presented to them by the chef which lifts whispers of curiosity amongst them all.

Steve is enjoying himself, laughing with Robin as she goes into extreme detail about her last failed date night. The thoughts have gone away, he’s free of them again, for a while at least. Until he sees him—white chef jacket, tight around his arms, his hair is tightly pulled back, leaving his face to shine under the warm light of the restaurant.

Steve’s vision goes blurry for a second, disconcerted by the shock, by the confusion of if this is really happening or not.

“Robin,” Billy says, and there’s a long pause. “Steve.”

He can feel Robin’s eyes on him, Billy’s eyes on him, but he can’t look at either of them, instead he buries his face in the glass of wine in front of him. The world seems to be crumbling around him, every person becoming faceless, every light in the room becoming distorted. His heart is pounding incessantly, looking for a way out of his chest.

Steve doesn’t really know how or why he does it but he looks up and meets Billy’s gaze. And, there’s something in his eyes, a mix of sorrow and longing Steve wasn’t prepared to face.

“So, uh.” Billy clears his throat. “Here we have, the Sailing Lovers. Eclair filled with a rose and elderberry crème pat with a glaze of Madagascar vanilla bean, accompanied by an Amaretto liqueur.”

Steve is entranced as Billy explains dessert, too in his own mind to notice the glisten in Billy’s eyes as he makes his way back into the kitchen.

[belovedluc]

I love your works so much if you could can you do a full dad bod!diluc with a breeding kink fic only if you please 😽❤️

Ahhh I try!!

Also I started it nsfw immediately cause I’ve been stuck with a starter thing

Warnings: breeding duh

Muffled moans and creaking sounded throughout the mansion as Diluc pounded into your roughly. Your not even sure what made him so rough, maybe it was kaeya who ticked him off? No no maybe if was the drunks? Hmm, oh that’s it! One of the villagers in springvile that asked to watch her newborn for a second while she ran to grab some supplies, that must be it!

Was he jealous? No this wasn’t jealousy, with how harsh his thrust were and how groans and grunts nearly out did yours was a clear sign. But you still couldn’t help but tease him.

“D-Diluc.. ah! Ah! What’s this fr-from!” You lifted yourself up so your elbows were now stretched and your back arched perfectly, Dilucs big hands held down your hips as he continued to thrust up into you. When he glanced up after your remark and saw your smirk it pissed him off just a tiny bit.

The red heads thrust slowed but they went in deep and hard, hitting all the right places inside, it quickly became difficult to hold yourself up on your arms. “Gon-Gonna stuff you so full of cum…!! You’ll be carry my..babies won’t you…Y-Y/n..?! Guh!” His grunts we’re such a turn on, their were deep and gruff, it was such a match for a lean man like him. Your beloved husband Diluc (hehe get it?)

“Yea! Yea right there baby! Mak-make me a mommy! Oh Diluc please..!” Your arms finally gave out beneath you as you fell into the pillows, His mean thrusts never faltering, oh how he could imagine having little yous running around the mansion and how cute you’d look so full of his babies, oh big your tits would grow, at that thought he hit a particular spot inside you that had your eyes rolling back into your skull, your release was not easy for you, thighs trembling and body shaking.

Diluc gave a few more thrusts before releasing himself, his mouth hung open and his hands gave a slight tremble. “Don’t- don’t let any out my dear, take it all baby.” His hands rubbed up and down your shaky body, relaxing your muscles, “you ok my love,” he leaned over to whisper, you nodded slowly, head feeling heavy as it rested on the pillow.

“Need to hear ya baby,” “mmkay.. just tired,” he smiled lightly kissed the side of your face, letting his lips linger before resting his head on yours.

Now I’m going to write a bsd smut on my main account byyyyeee

[cookierunauprompts]

AU Ficlet #2

woah, my fiftieth written for this blog... Thank you all for sticking around by the way! Without further ado, it's all under the cut.

CONTENT WARNINGS : Allusions to cannibalism, cults, religious imagery.

“ Don’t you ever feel like you’re… trapped here?” It was an odd question coming from Calla Lily Cookie, one that caused Blueberry Milkshake to immediately turn his attention to his work partner for the day. “ Hmmm…. Nope! But what do you mean by that, Calla Lily Cookie?” He asked, tilting his head as he pondered Calla Lily’s question. Trapped here? In Meringue Village? No, he could never be trapped in a place that was his home. “ O-Oh, it’s just that…” She turned her head away, back to the jelly bush she was tending to. “ Have you ever wondered what’s beyond our little village? I mean… I know we live on a continent called ‘Beast Yeast’ but surely it can’t all be monsters, right?” “ Who knows,” He chirped, going back to his own place picking apple jellies from the trees. “ But there’s probably still a lot of monsters, we’re only safe from them because of the prophet’s barrier around the village.” He replied, briefly contemplating taking a bite out of one of the apple jellies he was holding… But he decided not to, he wasn’t feeling all that hungry anyways. He looked back over to Calla Lily, she still seemed troubled by something. “ Still thinking about what’s outside, hm?” He asked, leaning on the tree branch. He only spoke again after getting Calla Lily’s nod of conformation. “ Well, you should probably go talk to Mystery Cookie then. They go outside all the time! Well, other than our leader and the prophet.” She turned away. “ I’ll… keep that in mind.” She replied as she went back to tending to the jellies. Meanwhile Blueberry Milkshake turned back to look into the apple jelly in his hand. Should he eat it after all? I mean, it’s just one apple jelly, what’s the harm that could be done? And yet he still pauses, would the leader approve of him taking a bite of this apple? Sure, it was one of many, but she knew about almost everything that went on in the village. He wouldn’t get any closer to the promised land if he took a bite out of this apple. And yet, it was so tempting to do so. But why? Why was it so tempting to attempt to fall out of line? To just… take a bite? He wanted to know, and yet he couldn’t.

 _ - - _

Maybe he should have taken a bite of that apple back there, witches know that it would be better than his current situation. Here he stood, right in front of the prophet’s door. His heart was pounding from both anxiety and a mix of something else… Because who wouldn’t when you have to go face to face with someone like Marshmallow Fluff Cookie? She was, well, for starters she was a lot bigger than the other cookies, and that was pretty intimidating. And not only that but she was blessed with holy knowledge from the witches. There was also the fact that she was, in Blueberry Milkshake’s opinion, rather pretty. So, having to interact with a tall, scary yet pretty woman was rather reasonably, a heart-pounding experience. “ You may come in,” He could hear her from beyond the door, so, with only a moment of hesitation, he opened the door and stepped inside. There were few times that Blueberry Milkshake ever saw the prophet outside of her room, and that was usually during meal times, or the occasional day where she left her room to wander around near the forest. The latter were the more, well, carefree times he’d been around her, and dare he say that they got a bit close during then. Though sometimes… it feels like they’ve interacted more than they have. He looked up at her, noticing the white roots of her fluffy pink hair were showing. He’d noticed that she tended to, well, chew on her hair sometimes. And whenever she got healed whatever amount she’d chewed off would grow back white. She turned to him, brown eyes like chocolate scanning him before signaling him to come in further and shut the door behind him. “ How have you been, Blue?” She asked, twisting in her seat, a cushion on the floor, to lay on her stomach. Her smile, unlike the practiced, melancholic one she had around the other members of the village except for Mystery Cookie and himself, was rather genuine. He considered it a rather nice smile. “ I’ve been… good actually!” he chirped out the lie, or well, the half-lie. If he were to be honest then, well, everything had been rather monotonous. Rather… boring, if you asked him. But how could he starve off his boredom if Meringue Cookie’s watchful eye followed him almost everywhere? He watched the smile on her face drop into melancholy for a moment, the mood around them turning more serious. Marshmallow Fluff then held out something in her hands, revealing it to be a small, blue colored apple jelly. “ I want you to take this, and eat it when you’re ready. I know it’s not much, and that it’s your decision… But I…” She trailed off, like a book that never got finished. “ … Nevermind, just take it.” And so, he listened, he took the apple from her hand. He was almost tempted to take a bite right now, almost. But the time wasn’t right, or maybe he was just afraid? Afraid of the unknown? Who knows…

 _ - - _

It was supposedly, a normal day within Meringue Village. A perfectly normal day where Blueberry Milkshake didn’t have any tasks to do for the village. Which meant that he could pretty much do whatever he wanted for the day. Most of the time, he spent these days at home or near the forest surrounding the village. It had been seven days since Marshy(his nickname for Marshmallow Fluff Cookie) had given him the blue apple jelly, seven… quite odd days. For instance, he began to… notice a lot more things. For instance, when he was working with the foraging crew and watching one of them get patched up, he swore he could see two, thin scars on one of their backs. When he asked about it… well, they apparently didn’t know those scars even existed. Even thinking that he was playing a prank on them. There was also the fact that his nightmares got… worse? Well, he was having them more frequently. These nightmares involved some strange jester that looked like him, who always, always looked at him with disappointment. And yet, somehow he could tell that the jester aimed its disappointment at itself as well. It was always just them, together in a black void. That was, however, until the apple jelly began to appear in them. The apple jelly always appeared in the jester’s hand, and the jester always offered it to him. “ Come on,” The jester would say, a grin blooming on its face “ Aren’t you tired of being trapped in this… pathetic, powerless, unknowing form?”  He’d never respond directly to the jester, either flinching away or, more recently, hesitating to take the apple jelly before he woke up with it in his hands. He’d always consider eating it after waking up, but never did. In fact, he kept it hidden on his person at all times, not even telling Meringue Cookie about the apple jelly. He feared that it’d be taken away from him if he did tell her. He sat on a fallen tree trunk, staring at the apple jelly in his hand. It seemed to glow in the dim light of the forest. Should he eat it? Should he not? He didn’t know and that bugged him. Would he know if he took a bite of the apple jelly? Would he still be left in the dark? Would he- “ Blue?” “ GYAH!” He shrieked in surprise, jumping in his seat. He turned around to face Marshmallow Fluff Cookie, who stood behind him with a mildly concerned expression. “ Witches sake- You scared me halfway to death!” He briefly scolded her, listening to her amused giggle put him at ease though. Silently, he invited her to sit, which she did. “ So… You still haven’t eaten it yet?” She asked, a mixture of curiosity and something else that Blueberry Milkshake couldn’t recognize on her face. The look in her eyes was expectant, as if she’d predicted that he’d eventually give in and eat the apple jelly no matter how long he resisted. And she was right, had she not interrupted him then he would have taken a bite. “ I mean…” He attempted to come up with an excuse, even though what he was about to say wasn’t really one. “ It’s a gift from you, right? I don’t want to just eat it and be done with it…” He said, staring down at the blue apple jelly in his hands. “ I know that you told me to eat it… and I think that I might be ready to… yet.” He trailed off, looking to her for support. A gentle smile graced her face. “ I think you should eat it,” she encouraged him as she gently pushed up his hands to raise the apple jelly. He stared at it for a moment, considering her suggestion. It wouldn’t hurt, right? So ever so slowly, he takes a bite. And afterwards? Everything hurts. 

He yelps with pain, dropping the rest of the apple jelly and clutching his head. He could feel the knowledge that the fruit contained worming its way inside. There were names, faces, events that had all been taken from his head to create the shell that was himself, Blueberry Milkshake Cookie. Who was originally just an identity played and changed for the sole purpose of worming his way into high societies just to see them crumble with a few lies told here and a few truths told there. He could feel traces of his former magic rushing back into him, the essence of his soul jam. It burned under his dough and yet it felt all too right for it to be there. The burning sensation was soon replaced by a more cold, yet not chilling sensation. Like escaping from the heat by taking shelter in the shade. He drops to the ground, onto his knees.  “ Blue! Are you alright?” He can hear Marshmallow Fluff call out, with her racing to his side. He can see the apple, he’s so close to knowledge, to understanding. He reaches for it yet Marshmallow Fluff takes it from his reach. “ Hey, hey, take it slow, understand what you know right now before jumping in further.”  It was good advice, advice he couldn’t help but listen to. So he took a moment to breathe, to try and process the information that was flooding into his mind. His name, his real name, was Shadow Milk Cookie. One of the former heroes of Cookie kind that fell from grace due to the corruption that came with his forbidden use of dark magic and his unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Formerly, he embodied knowledge, but now he embodies deceit. He was a member of the formerly named five heroes, now named the five beasts. And, he was currently incredibly small compared to his true height. And another thing, he was currently sealed into this form. This… tiny, weak and pathetic form. God he can understand why the mental him looked at him with such disappointment, he was just an empty shell that had none of the greatness he did. He could feel a reassuring pat on the back, oh right, Marshmallow Fluff Cookie was still here. He looked up to her, remembering their real first meeting. He’d found her near the border of the village, and she was rather… interesting to him. Mainly due to the fact that there was some kind of strange power nestled within her. Over time, they’d surprisingly gotten closer. Close enough for Shadow Milk to sometimes forget his original goal of finding out what that power in her was. Though, maybe he should have listened to her when she said to never come to her village, no matter what. Maybe then he would have never gotten his magic and soul jam stripped from him in the first place… but how did that happen?

She let him finish the apple now, and the increase of knowledge didn’t hurt like it did the first time. His mind filled in the blanks in his memory once he finished chewing. Oh, oh. That’s why his instincts told him to be afraid of Meringue Cookie, not only was she, to quote Marshmallow Fluff herself, batshit insane, but she was also the one who sealed him in the first place! There was also the fact that she was basically a power and adoration hungry beast placed in the dough of a cookie. He’d probably respect that if it weren’t for the fact that she went after him and was just a monster in general. He may call himself a beast but that doesn’t compare to the shit that Meringue Cookie does to people. For example, him! She literally almost wiped out his entire identity and took his power for herself! And that’s not even mentioning the fact that she steals the wings of Fairy Cookies whenever they find themselves unlucky enough to be near the village. Though he didn’t know the details, he knew that it had to be painful. “ You’re… okay, right?” Marshmallow Fluff asked, ah, he remembered that he used to be scared of her for some reason as well. But she was pretty much harmless… towards him. She wouldn’t harm him if she had the choice to.  “ … Physically? Yes.” He began, getting back on his feet. “ Mentally? Well, I’m a bit peeved you didn’t do this sooner. But I suppose that it’s better than before.” “ That's good then.” She smiled. “ And I’m sorry, but Meringue Cookie doesn’t leave her office unattended all that much. I only had enough time to get your memories from your soul jam.” She explained, her smile turning more apologetic. “ Ah well, win some, you lose some.” He shrugged, though he was already formulating a plan to get back at their twisted cult leader. All he needed was his soul jam and then he could get straight to his revenge! He’d work out the details later, mainly because he’s still adjusting.

He could see Marshmallow Fluff tense up, crap, Meringue Cookie must be looking for her. Of course, you could imagine his surprise when she pulled him close, close enough to hug him maybe? Who knew, but why did she do that? He soon heard footsteps on the grass and- Oh, that’s how she wanted to play this. Very clever, he supposed. Well, he wouldn’t be one of the world’s greatest actors if he didn’t play into his role. And all it took was a few thoughts to make his face turn a bright blue, nothing too indecent, mind you. It wasn’t long until you caught onto what he was doing, making sure to catch him when his footing went light. “ Ah, dearest prophet…” He could hear Meringue Cookie say, that sickly sweet smile upon her face as she laced her words with honey. “ While I do trust that you are checking up on the barrier, don’t you think that it’s been a bit too long- Hm?” Ah, looks like she noticed him. He could sense the slightest irritation leak into Meringue Cookie’s voice, most people wouldn’t even notice that her tone had changed. “ Ah, Blueberry Milkshake Cookie… Whatever are you doing out here? I suppose that it is one of your free days, yet to spend one near the barrier is quite foolish when it’s on one of its scheduled check up days… And may I ask what you’re doing with our prophet?” She asked, tilting her head a bit to the side. “ Oh!- Um… Ah, how do I explain this…?” He fumbled, though it was merely all acting on his part. But of course, Marshmallow Fluff’s acting helped him sell the bit… and by acting, I mean being bluntly ‘honest’.

“ We were hanging out together while I checked on the barrier, that’s all.” She stated, staring down almost blankly at Meringue Cookie. He had to give it to her, she knew how to keep a cool head. He looked at Meringue Cookie, it was clear that she had had a few doubts about what Marshmallow Fluff had said… But it appeared that she couldn’t call them out. She straightened her posture. “ Very well then.” She simply said, before casting a much less warm glare to Shadow Milk Cookie. “ Oh, but if you’re doing anything to taint our prophet… I will have you kicked out of the village, Blueberry Milkshake Cookie.” She said sternly, one might think that she actually cared for Marshmallow Fluff had they not known what to look for… or what she was really like. Her tone returned to its warm, chipper manner that she had before. “ Be sure to be back by sundown in time for meal time! I’m sure that neither of you would want to miss out.” She hummed before turning on her heel and walking off. Marshmallow Fluff let out a muted sigh of relief, meanwhile Shadow Milk looked up at her. “ You know, you really wouldn’t assume that she’s… well, who she really is under all that. I’ve got to hand that to her at least.” He mused, which earned him a pout from Marshmallow Fluff. “ What? A good actor has to respect another good actor.” “ I… guess you’re right.” She hummed, turning away. There’s a beat of silence before Shadow Milk thinks of a question that he never got answers to. “ Hey, Marshy?” He asked, calling her attention to him with a hum. “ I never got to ask this before, but what exactly is the promised land? I can’t imagine that it’s actually something good since you guys supposedly worship the witches.”

The witches, quite the bitter memory if you asked him. Sure, they, as in the five beasts, had been created by one that was more… morally sound. But there was a small group that actually ate the living cookies that were baked, and not the ones baked for consumption. He hoped that the witches that the cult worshiped were on the less cannibalism-acquainted side… But judging by Marshmallow Fluff Cookie’s rather nervous expression, it was likely that that’s the case. But that doesn’t exactly explain why people are selected for the promised land one by one, if they were getting served up to the witches then wouldn’t it be in batches?  There is, however, a more disturbing thought that comes to mind. And yet, he decides not to chase it just yet. The time for it will come eventually… But he hopes that the traces of that very theory are incorrect. If they were, it would explain a lot about Marshmallow Fluff Cookie… But, would he be able to look at her the same way if it was true? He's seen her lips stained with what he believed to be strawberry jam before though... Yet he doesn't want to believe the possibility. Even though many factors pointed to it being possible. The undeniable, inescapable guilt that he could sense inside her, the way everyone chosen to go to the promised land goes through her first. He doesn't want to believe it, and yet hasn't he done things just as bad? And that's if she's doing it... willingly.

[reddawnmultimuse]

. starter for @musesofchaos | kaia

“I’m sorry, Ame. We’ll be home soon, I promise, hn.” Deidara whispers to his baby boy he snuggles him to his chest. All he got was a weak grunt as Ame hugs the blue stuffed dog he got during his hospital stay.

Ame had caught the flu which developed into pneumonia, and he had to spend the last three weeks on oxygen in a children’s hospital. It was the scariest moment of Deidara’s life. Thankfully, Ame recovered, and they’d finally been discharged.

However, before leaving back to their home village, Deidara wanted to buy a few things since his son still wasn’t at one-hundred percent. Stuff like orange juice and snacks. This is so he didn’t have to do it once home and Ame could rest.

So, that’s what they were doing, shopping in a supermarket. Thankfully, since it was so early, it was quiet with not many people and Deidara wasn't to worried about being recognized. Or so he thought.

[onewmin]

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 10 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, Yugyeom is being the voice of reason, the reader and Chan are insufferable (mostly the reader), description of a poor relationship with the parents, mentions of a sexual assault, cursing, the appearance of an ex-girlfriend, an airport cliché, some typos. The narration jumping from the past to the present tense is intentional

Gaeul means ‘autumn’ (just in case :))

Author’s note: hey! I’ve been absent for quite a long time, and couldn’t give you anything better thank this, sorry </3. I wasn’t kidding when I said it was going to get worse, lol. This part is quite long, btw. I’m trying my best to finish this series, that’s why it’s taking me longer than usual to post. I’ll try my best to post a new part either once in two weeks or once a month. Hope you’re still interested in the series. Let me know what you think and thank you for reading <3

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Part 9 | Part 11

You hated the countryside. Or the idea of staying there with your parents. You didn’t figure that out yet.

To begin with, you absolutely despised the long hours it took you to get to the place. When your parents abruptly decided to change their place of living, moving from their apartment to the semi-detached house in the village four hours away from Seoul (the house that was used solely for summer vacation previously), you were definitely not pleased. With your forever unfinished psychological separation from the family, you knew better than anybody else that you’d have no choice but to come and see them, at least, once a month at the weekend — especially when it happened in summer.

Moreover? Honestly, there were too many things to add to this. For starters, you hated you father’s guts. Despite having been raised as someone who was supposed to respect their elders without a question, you couldn’t but roll your eyes every time he opened his mouth. And when you’d vent to your mom, she… She would be defending her husband’s actions, always. Even when he was in the wrong.

Sitting at the dinner table with them, you silently chewed on your salad, another weird show about politics running as a background. Your parents would throw in the most obscure of their opinions, the ones that made you sick to your stomach — but you wouldn’t dare to say anything. ‘Cause you outgrew the phase of arguing with them, trying to prove them wrong, trying to get through their hatred and prejudices. You were too grown to try and change two almost senior citizens so that they wouldn’t hate everyone who differed from them in any capacity.

Your cat meowed, stretching her paws on the armchair beside you. Whenever you thought about a family, she would be the only creature who came to mind.

“Do you feel like you’ve separated?” You therapist asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Sometimes it feels like it. But”, you gulped, “sometimes I would find myself being too engrossed in the family drama”.

She hummed. “That’s what they want from you. To continue being involved. To continue being the only thing that unites them”.

“I’m pretty sure they’d be fine without me”. You huffed. “My mom loves her husband too much to even think about how miserable he makes her life to be”.

“Would you remind me, please, how long they were dating before getting married?”

“Two months”.

“How long had they been living together, just the two of them?”

You scratched your chin. “Ummm… Never, I guess. My grandma lives with them now.”

“Something always unites your parents, and it never seems to be the love they have for each other. It’s either you or your grandmother”. Your therapist took her glasses off and looked you in the eyes. “When one of the elements disappears, or both of them do, they’ll have nothing in common anymore”.

You shook your head back then, and you were shaking it now too. Your parents might have been the worst example of a healthy relationship, however, they both held onto the toxicity. You father did it for the sake of comfort, as you mother had always been the breadwinner of the family — the matriarch, if you will. She provided him with a home, paid for his higher education, paid all the bills while he was not, in fact, bringing home the bacon, quite the opposite, actually; and she never noticed his utterly shitty behavior. Or she chose to ignore his vile habits of breaking your heart, your will, your love for him as a father.

Your mother never cared about it. Ignorance is a blessing, after all.

“We’ll have guests tonight”, your mother said when you were helping her with the dishes. “Don’t lock yourself in your room, please”.

“Who’s going to come?”

A playful smile was shining on her lips. “It’s a surprise”.

You’re let out a deep sigh, not expecting anything good to come out of it. It was either your annoying aunt, who’d preach about you not being married when her daughter, who was your age, was divorced twice and heading towards her third marriage; or it was someone else from your relatives — maybe your father’s creepy elder brother, who used to touch you inappropriately when you were a kid. No, no way it was him — your mother hated his guts too. Too bad she didn’t hate her husband who never cut off his older brother for groping both his child and wife. Too bad.

As you were done with the dishes you left your mom to play with your cat, and went to the back door, to seclude yourself in the patio your parents never used until there were guests. All you wanted was some peace and quiet in this mad house.

You didn’t even have a minute to start another crochet project when your phone buzzed.

“Oh god, Yugyeom, another cat meme?” You mumbled as you opened the app. Fortunately, it wasn’t a meme.

“A little bird told me we’re coming to your family’s country house. Wasn’t my idea”.

You chuckled. “Right. They definitely want to play matchmakers”.

“Great”. He responded. A couple of seconds later another message popped up. “It’s exactly how I wanted to spend my weekend”.

You smiled. “Yeah, me too”.

A couple of weeks passed after Youngjae’s birthday, and since then you and Yugyeom were speaking regularly. Followed each other on the social media again, exchanged your numbers. Although you did regret adding him on Instagram, as he kept on constantly sending you animal videos. Not that it was annoying, it was just… Unusual. You were not used to male attention after Chan.

Oh no, not again. Shut up.

You didn’t allow yourself to drown in the memories of him. It got better, day by day, but it was still an open wound. Even though it wasn’t bleeding anymore. At one point you decided that all the bleeding turned into the infinite pool of tears you cried throughout the whole relationship. Nevertheless, the mere mentioning of him still brought you pain; you thought about talking it out with your therapist but it felt like even she was tired of all this Chan talk.

When you were together, the tiniest thought of him with someone else made your heart ache, as you laid on the floor of your bedroom, tears clouding your vision. The paparazzi taking pictures of him with the singers he worked with, his backup dancers, his acquaintances — all of that, as you scrolled through those photos, almost forced you to break through your rib cage with your fingers with so much ferocity, that you could rip your heart out. Just not to feel any of that pain anymore.

Because he never went out with you publicly. It was only in a group with friends, or you had to wait till the paps took all of the candid photos of him before you could walk out, or you were supposed to pretend to be a stranger, walking past him. You were not interesting to the paparazzi as much as Chan’s idol and actress friends were. You were bland, grey, a simple background noise. Who would ever even consider you dating Chan?

Yeah, right. That would be you in your delusional state of mind.

Time passed quickly and in mere moments the Kims were at the door. Yugyeom was beaming at your parents, bowing to them as you did the same to his. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen each other for years — you’d greet his parents whenever you met them in the village, and your parents certainly saw Yugyeom in his rare visits. The four of them were still friends — or they appeared to be like that for the sake of the families’ images — only you and Yugyeom were estranged. As you sat down the table, you realized it was the first time in years when both of your families gathered. And it was the first time in years you and Yugyeom were sitting opposite, and not beside each other.

Holding hands under the table, fingers intertwined as your palms were sweating with every gentle touch of his. You had never experienced so much love after Yugyeom. Whatever love Chan had for you was never expressed — it was hidden, as if he were ashamed of those feelings all along. But wasn’t it the truth? Wasn’t it what he said to you?

You shook your head again, earning a concerned look from Yugyeom. You didn’t think he’d understand this crap, shit, no one would. Eunjoo was the first one to tell you the relationship you shared was unhealthy, but, despite you agreeing with her, you never had the strength to leave him. Except for that one time several months ago, that launched all of the vicious bullshit circle that had happened recently.

As all of the dinner went on as a blur, when you answered Yugyeom’s parents’ questions about your job and life almost mechanically, unlike Mr. Kim Yugyeom, who seemed actually delighted to share his news with your parents.

“I can never escape him, right?” The thought leaped through your head. “But do I really want to?”

Your parents conversation swiftly moved to the living room, for them to go on and watch yet another favourite film of theirs; you and Yugyeom were left to do the dishes alone. In silence. Not a word uttered while he was washing the dishes and you were wiping them up.

“D’you wanna go on a bike ride?” He suddenly uttered.

“Yeah”.

Having jumped on your old pink bike, you made your way to the Kim’s house, when Yugyeom rushed to get his one too. Several minutes later you rode through the empty country road; inhaling the smell of freshly-cut yellowish grass and cool autumn wind, you did your best to outrace the man in front of you. And every time you looked at him, slightly turning his head to you to say you were slow, you were reminded of a dark-haired boy whom you’d know since you were ten. He had that smile that felt like a warm summer evening filled with the honey smell of a linden tree. He was funny, his innocent curiosity and love for the world were the first things that made you fall for him long before you knew what love was.

Do you know it now? After all these years, do you know what love is? Is it that gut-wrenching feeling that arose inside whenever you thought of Chan? Is it crying almost every day because you knew he could never love you? Is it going through his ex’s accounts to find something within yourself to alter — only for him to never notice your efforts? Is this love?

Or is it riding your bikes through the night to your place? Is it this lingering feeling whenever he looked your way? Is it feeling comfort whenever he wrapped his arms around you?

Is Chan the love you’ve been craving? Or did you give up on Yugyeom too quick and lost your chance for love forever?

You pulled yourself from the thoughts as the two of you reached the destination — your place, that meadow where you always used to spend time during your relationship. Now the place was forgotten by the two of you, abandoned by the love that used to be in a full bloom.

Yugyeom plopped on the blanket and you carefully sat beside him, pulling your knees to your chest, hugging them and laying your chin down on your knees.

“There are no stars tonight”, he mumbled. A corner of your mouth lifted, but you didn’t respond. To be frank, you had no idea what to say.

Yugyeom sighed. “D’you think I’m boring?”

“What?” You brows knitted.

“Am I boring? Do I give off boring vibes?” He put his hands behind his head and stretched a little.

“Why are you askin’ me?”

“‘Cause you’re the only girl I talk to”, he began, “not romantically, I mean”.

Ouch. Ouch? Bitch, ouch? You’re slightly hurt you’re not romantically linked with your childhood sweetheart?

“So you need advice?”

“Sort of”. He nodded. “I went out with this girl from work a couple of times but she says I’m too boring”.

“Stop talking to her”.

“I like her too much to do it”.

You gave a tight-lipped smile in response, feeling your blood boil for some reason. Why a possibility of Yugyeom having a relationship makes you… dissatisfied? Why does it even bother you?

He, on the other hand, seemed to notice your slight change of demeanor. “You’re okay?”

Having nodded, you kept on staring at the sky. What were you supposed to say? It wasn’t a Minho situation where he’d ask you about Eunjoo and what she liked; it was different. It was Yugyeom, the golden boy who seemed to come down from Heaven, the sweet boy who’d wipe your tears every time your parents made you feel miserable, the perfect boy who slipped through your fingers. Were you really holding onto him after all those years? Was Chan actually right?

“I dunno what to say”, you uttered. “Maybe you should take her to the movies or something”.

“She’s a not a fan of mainstream cinema”, he responded right away.

“Coffee then”.

“She hates it”.

“A walk in the park?”

“She’s allergic to grass”.

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “Is she even real?”

Yugyeom chuckled. “She certainly is”.

“Then I don’t know what to tell you”. You changed your position so that your back would be flat against the blanket. Watching the sky, you continued. “I’m not the person to give you dating advice”.

“Why are you so angry suddenly?”

You sighed. “I’m not”.

Yugyeom hummed. “I just thought”, he resumed, “that we’re sharing our love-life problems with each other. Guess we’re not”.

Of course.

In the past couple of weeks only the dead didn’t hear you moaning about Chan and his sudden departure to Australia. Yugyeom fell a victim to your oversharing as well, and he actually tried to give you some solid advice — like to reconcile with Chris, for example. Reconciliation? Nope.

Yugyeom also suggested you be the first one to apologize, as, in his eyes, that would help both of you to throw the weight off your shoulders. A reasonable idea, right? It never stood a chance, though.

Because, despite you accusing Chan of selfishness and having too much pride to even consider saying a tiny ‘sorry’, you possessed absolutely the same qualities. Same brazen arrogance, same pride boiling your brain every time you wanted to run back to him and make the first move. You would never do that, never in a million years. No matter how much you loved him, Chan was supposed to be the first one to apologize.

“Are you trying to guilt-trip me or something?” You sat on the blanket. “I won’t tell you anything ever again then”.

You got up abruptly and clumsily stumbled on your feet, almost falling down. When Yugyeom tried to help you, you brushed his hands off. “Don’t help me if I bother you that much”.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” You barked. “First you barge into my life which already was a fuckin’ mess, and now you tell me about your love-life? For what? For what exact reason, Yugyeom?”

“You need to know”. He answered calmly.

“Why? What for?”

“‘Cause you need to”. He assured. “You live in delusions, you build your life around them. You live off the idea of a prince who’d come and save you. You need to stop that and live in the reality for once”.

“I don’t-“ You shook your head.

“You do”, Yugyeom insisted. He took a deep breath. “You had the same idea when we were kids, and I was happy to be the one to come and save you. Because I loved you more than anything in this world”. You could feel your eyes getting heavy. “I still do, believe it or not. But I’m not willing to be your savior again. I don’t want to be Chan’s rebound either. I’m trying to move on from… Whatever you and I have. I want the same for you.”

You licked your lips and turned your head away. “That’s why you told me about your little girlfriend?” You muttered in a shaky voice.

You couldn’t see it but Yugyeom clenched his jaw, as he always used to when being extremely annoyed.

“I told you ‘cause you need to see it. You need to realize you have to move on too. ‘Cause Chan won’t magically come back and beg for your forgiveness and you’ll live happily ever after. That’s not how it works”. He drew in a breath again. “And I won’t either. I do love you, still, and I always will, and the fact that”, he gulped, “the fact that you’re still wearing this necklace gives me hope, it does, but… I can’t be both your boyfriend and therapist, like I used to. You have to work on yourself on your own. Neither I, nor Chan will fix it for you. You need to realize you have to take the first step. Not him or me. You”.

Maybe what you needed was brutal honesty. Perhaps Yugyeom chose the right tactic — to befriend you and then put your face in the mud. Because you needed that. Because, no matter how much therapy sessions you had, the main issue still wasn’t fixed. You were keen on waiting for someone to come and help you, when you should’ve been the one to help yourself. Yes, you have always been a people pleaser, but can’t people pleasers be selfish too? Can’t they have their little pride bloom inside their chests?

“Guess you’re right”.

“I always am”.

You let out a deep sigh and sat back on the blanket, your head resting on Yugyeom’s shoulder. “I’m sorry”.

“Don’t be”, he answered softly, “I get it”.

“I just…” A sudden choking feeling seemed to squeeze your throat. “I don’t know what to do”. Your last words came out as a whisper.

“You do”, he said, “I just gave you a manual”. You let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m being serious, Yugyeom”.

“Me too”. He turned his head to face yours, as you rested your head on your knees now. In the dark of the night his angelic features seemed to have a slight addition of devilishness to them. And then it hit you like a sudden snowball thrown at someone does. You don’t know him. You know the boy you grew up with, the guy you used to love. You have no idea who the man that’s sitting right in front of you is. He seems nice, has a way with words, and he does resemble somebody you would call the ‘love of your life’. He isn’t the same boy anymore. As well as you are not the same girl. As well as Chan is not the guy your brain thought him to be.

He’s imperfect, stupid. He has no clue of what love is, he’s never had a sweet affection shown to him because he never stayed to get it. It’s not the responsibility that he runs away from, it’s affection. It’s pure adoration that makes him fall out of love with every person that ever experienced those feelings towards him. You can’t change him. And you don’t need to.

The only thing you need to do is make the first step. Push your pride far up your ass, collect yourself, forget the cruel words he ever said to you. Perhaps, then you won’t have to hate him to fall out of love. Perhaps, the two of you will have a chance to start over. But it’s you who needs to make the first move, you, who has to save whatever’s left between the two of you. You, because Chan’s too scared to do it.

“Can you get me out of here?”

Yugyeom smiled. “Of course”.

Chan’s plane was about to take off in six hours. “Maybe I’ll convince him to stay”, you thought, while pressing your bike’s pedals as fast as you could. Yugyeom has always had a way with your parents so he’ll convince them he has to take you back to the city. Your cat will stay with them when you’re gone, and, while kissing her between her big ears, you promised to come back tomorrow afternoon.

“Where’s your car?” Yugyeom asked when the two of you settled in your seats.

“Parking lot”, you mumbled, “mom and dad insisted on picking me and Gaeul”.

Yugyeom chuckled. “They really like your cat”.

You responded with a smile. “Is there a story behind her name?”

“Do you wanna talk to me that bad?”

“I have to drive to the airport for four hours to help the girl that I love get back with her ex, do you really-“

“Jeez, chill!” You raised your hands. “What about that work crush of yours?”

“That’s the whole point”, he crooned, “I help you, you help me”.

“I thought you were doing this out of the kindness of your heart”.

“Oh no, quoting Mr. Martins now? Do you know how far up my ass he got when he came back to Columbia University?” Yugyeom whined. “Literature wasn’t even my major, I only took it because of you”.

“Stop, I get it”, you flipped your hair, “I’m irresistible”.

Yugyeom laughed and you followed his lead. That’s what felt like home, like a safe space. Someplace where you didn’t need to prove the worthiness of yourself. Someplace where you were loved just ‘cause you existed. The purest form of love it was, the feeling you had never felt after him.

“See”, he continued, “we can be friends”.

“We’re not friends”.

Yugyeom raised an eyebrow as a response to your sentence. “I don’t know you yet, and you don’t know me. We need to get to know each other”.

He smiled again and nodded, a sudden rosy colour creeping up his ears. “Guess you’re right”.

“I always am”.

“So then”, Yugyeom didn’t seem to stop talking at all, “tell me the story behind your cat’s name”.

“They’re not much to tell”, you affirmed him, “it’s as easy as it seems. I found her on the street on a cool, rainy evening. It happened in autumn, so that’s the whole idea to her name. Oh, and she was the dirtiest kitten I’ve ever seen”.

Yugyeom hummed. “I thought, as a writer, you had better imagination”.

“Oh my god”, you cursed, “shut up!”

The road to the airport went on without a moment of silence, as you and Yugyeom kept on talking about everything. He told you about his job in New York, his past relationships, new friends and a golden retriever he adopted with his ex-girlfriend.

“So she took the custody of the dog?” You couldn’t believe your ears.

“She was quite adamant about the dog staying with her”, Yugyeom took a turn, as the two of you were twenty minutes away from the airport. “I couldn’t do anything about it”.

“Sometimes I feel like everyone around me is too smart”, you mumbled. A line appeared between his brows as you continued. “Why say ‘adamant’ when you can just say… Something like, ‘She was a bitch’ or whatever?”

Yugyeom chortled at your words. “Don’t act like an idiot. The fact that you gave up writing doesn’t give you the right to play dumb”.

You hesitated to respond. On the one hand, you didn’t play dumb, you just didn’t enjoy overcomplicating your speech. On the other hand, though… Yugyeom could be right. You used not to care about using simple words in your every day conversation when your dream still sounded like a possible reality. To be fair, you hadn’t noticed such small details about yourself before Yugyeom pointed them out.

“Stop lecturing me”. You murmured.

“Don’t think I can”, he continued. “You can lecture me too, y’know”.

“Oh, just give me a reason”.

The last ten minutes were blessed by the long-awaited silence, while you scratched your neck and kept on biting your nails. The relatively fresh manicure was ripped off from some of your nails, making them look like a shit show. You could’ve sworn Yugyeom heard the hopeless thumping of your heart.

“You didn’t have to drive here”, you said quietly when he stopped at the airport’s parking lot. “You didn’t have to do this for me”.

“I think I had to”, he answered and turned his head to face you. “I want you to be happy, that’s all”.

You sighed. Your leg was shaking violently as you watched the entrance and checked the time. “Maybe I should wait inside”. Yugyeom nodded. Before you opened the car door, something prompted you to look at him again. “Thanks for driving me here. I got it now”.

Yugyeom shook his head. “I’m not leaving until this…whole thing is resolved. Don’t even start with me”, he stopped you before you could chime in with your piece of mind, “I’ll wait for you here. Don’t wanna go home anyways”.

“Thank you, Yugyeom”.

Five minutes later you were in the waiting lounge. You took the phone from your pocket — it was almost 2 A.M. — and texted Minho, while your fingers were shaking. “He won’t like me being here”, you thought as the message was sent, “I promised him and Eunjoo I wouldn’t do anything like that”.

Minho didn’t tell you about Chan much: you assured you didn’t need to know his whereabouts. However, you did know that Lee Know would come and say goodbye to his best friend before his departure. “No, he’ll kill me. I swore I wouldn’t, shit, why am I even here? What’s the point? What if Chan doesn’t want to see me? Shit, shit, shit”. You were pacing around the waiting room with the few people were waiting for their respective flights there. Everyone was quiet but you.

A flight to Melbourne was about to take off at 4 o’clock in the morning.

Lee Know wasn’t responding. You pressed the phone to you chest as you leg was shaking uncontrollably again. “He’ll be here, right? Or did he change his mind? What if decided to stay? God, I hope he did”.

As the check-in for the flight was announced, the previously quiet hall got filled with camera clicks and loud voices. Paparazzi. A group of girls almost swooped you off of your feet as they sprinted towards the source of noise. You noticed the posters and pictures, and your heartbeat became so loud you could hear it inside your head. Chan was here.

You could see his bodyguards, Han, who was telling the paparazzi off for invading Chan’s privacy, and… You caught the glimpse of him. His curly hair was fuzzy due to the probable lack of care for it, but his dimples were at a full display. And before you could break through the photographers and a few of his fangirls, you saw somebody else. Someone with a long blonde hair, mesmerizing hazel eyes — as he sang in some of his songs — a tight grey tracksuit and a hand, intertwined with his. Kang Micha. Chan’s ex-girlfriend.

They both exchanged a couple of words with each other before Chan confirmed their relationship to one of the paparazzi. Your poor heart found it too horrifying to handle as it fell to your feet and scattered to even smaller pieces. Now it was impossible to fix. Your worst fear, the one that had been following you since the moment you and Chan started your mistakenship, came true. This play you watched from afar was a legitimate proof that Micha was the only woman on his mind. You were right. You were right. She was the only woman he had ever loved, she was the only woman he thought about while making love to you. It was always her. Her, her and only her.

You fought back the tears with as much effort as you could. Now you didn’t want him to notice you; and as Chan moved to the check-in desk, you ran to the exit, just to cry it out, just to leave before he saw you. You didn’t need to feel even more humiliated than at the moment.

As you got outside, somebody suddenly grabbed your hand. And before you could even shake the stranger’s grip off, you heard, “What the hell are you doing here?”

One look at Minho’s displeased face gave it off — he wasn’t quite happy about it either. “I-I-“, you stuttered. “I don’t really know now. I thought I could… We could… But it doesn’t matter now, right?” You gave him a half-smile, and it took everything from you not to let it turn into a full-blown howling.

Minho shook his head and pulled you in for a quick hug. “I told you not to come”, he whispered when he let you out of his grip. “Wait for me here and I’ll drive you home-“

“No need to”, you stated, “I already have a driver. See you later, Minho”. Before he could utter another word, you moved to Yugyeom’s car; he was already outside, waiting at the passenger’s door. Good he didn’t leave.

A cool autumn morning turned into a freezing one in a spin of a moment. The hope you carefully kept in your heart disappeared, having packed her bags in mere seconds. There was no more hope left in you, no love, nothing. The only thing you wanted was to curl up beside your cat and drown yourself in the flood of tears. And Yugyeom seemed to understand your desire, as he started the car and drove from the parking lot without asking any questions.

Minho watched as the car left his sight, and having taken a deep breath, came back inside the building. Chan had just finished his flight registration and was ready to go to the departures.

“Where you’ve been?” He asked when Lee Know approached him. “We’re ready to go”.

Minho nodded and gave his best friend a tight hug; the first time they would be apart for the longest time finally approached them. Minho truly loved Chan, no matter how dumb he was sometimes. However, the love drama he got himself dragged into left him uneasy — so he couldn’t not fuck with Chan’s conscience (or whatever was left of it) one last time before he left.

“She was here”, he said quietly while Micha was busy talking on the phone. Chan’s eyes widened, and his whole face seemed to lit up at the mere mention of her name.

“Where’s she?” His eyes were scanning the airport in desperate attempts to land on her face.

“Was here”. Minho responded firmly. “She saw you and Micha and left”. Chan let out a deep breath. “Don’t regret… Don’t come to regret whatever this is, Chan. I’m not an expert in love, but”, Lee Know tapped his best friend’s shoulder, “but I think that it’ll come back to both of you if it’s meant to be”.

Chris sniffed and rubbed his slightly red eyes. “Don’t lecture me, I get it”.

“Don’t think you do”. Minho detected. “It’s good if you let each other go, even for a while. ‘Cause I’m honestly tired of all this drama, man”.

Chan plastered a smile of his face. “Say ‘hi’ to Eunjoo from me”.

“I’ll say it to both of them”.

Taglist:

@heylookwhoitis @amaranth-writing @itstorimf @tenshimara @whyyougottadothatbro

The story’s masterlist <3

[futureslaps]

The Captive - Chapter 15

Chapter 14     Chapter 16

Enjoy 💙

Since he’d woken up, Jake had been watching the rain pouring around their marui. The strong ocean-born storms that hit Awa’atlu put the storms he’d experienced back in the jungle to shame. With weather this bad, there was little that could be done outside. The Metkayina called it Speng-txantompa. A restoring rainstorm. Meant by Eywa to provide time to rest and spend time with family.

Family.

He held his head in his hands. He was trying everything in his power to keep his family whole, but it felt like things were falling apart around him.

Especially when it came to Kiri.

His daughter had been treating him like a stranger for days now, and he was at a loss for what to do. He had tried to comfort her, talk with her about what was going on. But it seemed no matter what he did, things just got worse.

Kiri was barely even on speaking terms with him anymore.

Jake sighed again as he glumly looked over to Kiri’s sleeping spot. It had been empty when he woke up, and there was no sign of Kiri. Did she really prefer being out in the pouring rain over being close to him now? Had he really upset her this much?

Jake knew that Kiri was concerned for Spider, but she just didn’t understand. His attempt to talk with Spider had only confirmed what he already knew: Spider needed space to himself, he didn’t need to be pushed and prodded right now.

Jake frowned when he thought about Spider again. The poor kid probably went through hell the past few months. But Jake had made no progress with Spider, and confronting Quaritch about it had predictably been a non-starter.

What else could he do?

Time. Jake reminded himself.

I just need to be patient.

Jake straightened his face as he saw a figure approaching through the rain. It wasn’t Omatikaya, they had a thin tail…

Kiri

Jake tried to put a smile on his face as his daughter approached. She was absolutely soaked from the rain and bore a thoughtful look on her face.

“Kiri.” He spoke quietly, careful not to wake Neytiri and Tuk, still sleeping next to him. “Where have you been?”

Kiri looked down for a moment before responding.

“Around. Just around the village.”

“In this weather? Thought you’d take a shower?” Jake smiled slightly, trying to see if he could get a smile back. But Kiri’s face remained unchanged.

“It…helps clear my head. That’s all”

Jake nodded, disappointed.

But Kiri lingered in front of him, clearly wanting to say something.

“Everything alright, Kiri?” Jake asked, looking back up at her.

Her face briefly flashed a look of anger, a clear no, but she quickly hid it.

“I was…just thinking.” Kiri started; her words carefully spoken. “I could… bring food and water to Quaritch today. I mean…I’m already soaking from the rain. I wouldn’t want you to have to get wet to.”

Jake was slightly stunned at the request. It was odd, to say the least.

“Kiri, don’t worry about me getting wet. You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to help, dad. Every time you see him, you come back looking exhausted and upset.” Kiri said, a hint of urgency in her voice. “It’s speng-txantompa, you should be able to take a break from it one day.”

Jake was more confused than before. Kiri was being insistent with this. Concern grew in his mind. Quaritch was hardly a threat in his current state, but the strangeness of the request unnerved him slightly. Did something happen?

“Kiri, is everything okay?” Jake repeated his earlier question.

Kiri nodded, smiling a little.

“Yes, dad! Nothing’s wrong. I just want to do something for you.” She thought for a moment before adding: “I think it might help clear my head more if I saw he was there. You know, still caught and all.”

That’s it.

Jake nodded. He understood now. Kiri wanted confirmation that the demon was still there. He couldn’t blame her. He almost couldn’t believe it himself the first time he’d made a visit.

He let out a small sigh.

“If you really want to do this…”

Kiri went for the two bowls he used to bring the food and water. But as she was leaving, he grabbed her hand, and his voice was stern.

“Listen, Kiri. I still want you to be careful. He’s tied up and behind bars, but he’s still Quaritch. Don’t try to talk to him. If he tries to talk to you ignore him. Just leave the bowls, pick up the old ones, and go. Believe me, he has nothing good to say.”

Kiri nodded.

“I’ll be fine, dad. I’ll be in and out.”

With that, she headed back into the rain.

Jake stared after her for a moment. She could take him off guard with how strong she could be sometimes. Kiri was truly one of the strongest, and kindest people he knew when it came to those she cared about. It was almost like it was her natural instinct to help. It remined him of Grace.

He smirked to himself. She’d never been afraid of Quaritch’s B.S. either.

(…)

Kiri felt her chest grow tighter as she walked through the rain towards the communal fire.

She was really doing this.

She passed by the nook where she’d left Spider sleeping. He’d told her he was okay, but she still promised to return as soon as she finished a few…chores.

Her heart ached leaving him, now that she knew just how much he was hurting, but she had to do this. She had to understand. She needed to know for certain that Spider wasn’t being hurt.  

She approached the cookfire, maintained by only two Metkayina sheltered under a canvas roof. She scooped up a bowl of stew, nodded to them, and proceeded on her way.

As she walked through the rain, the hut slowly came into view. The same hut she’d seen Spider sneak into the night before.

The closer she got, the more she felt the weight of what she was about to do.

She’d barely been around the Colonel during their brief encounters in the jungle and on the ship, but she felt she’d seen enough of him. Cruel, soulless, evil, these were the words that came to her mind when she thought of the man. She couldn’t imagine him being anything else. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t scared. Quaritch was a scary man, backed with endless stories to prove it.

But Spider’s confession, spoken through sobs, came back to her mind. It had seemed so emotional, heartfelt, honest in a way Kiri could almost feel.

It made her head hurt. She couldn’t find a way to explain it. She took a deep breath as she looked at the hut, now only a few feet in front of her.

She had to know.

And the only place she could find out was here.

She played through some possibilities in her head. Quaritch could ignore her. He could just resort to threats and insults, the way he did with her father. He might just laugh her out of the prison as soon as she asked him anything.

She would do her best to stay serious and composed, but what would she actually do?

What would she even say?

How could she ever hope to make Quaritch answer, if even her dad apparently couldn’t?

Her mind went back to Spider. If what Spider had told her was true…

Kiri formed a plan in her mind. She would get the answers she was looking for, one way or another. She had to, for Spider.

She approached the guards, trying not to betray her nerves.

“I’m here to bring the prisoner his food. Let me through.”

The guards looked slightly confused, but they were also tired, and soaking wet.

“You…aren’t Toruk Makto.”

“I am his daughter. Today I have come in his place, with his approval.”

The guards looked at each other for a moment, then one of them nodded. They stood aside to let her in.

“Very well, be careful.”

Kiri nodded.

There was no going back now.

She took another deep breath, then pushed past the canvas flap and into the prison.

It’s happening!

Next chapter is almost done already, I’ve been writing like crazy the past hours. It should be out no later than tomorrow. I hope you’re excited to see how the meeting goes...

@onlyreadz @buzzing-honeybee

[jellymellydraws]

Masterlist ~ <<Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter >>

Astarion x Dark Urge Chapter 14 Rating: E Tags: Angst, Fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, two guarded people fall in love so hard it makes them stupid

Chapter Summary:

Shadowheart takes her job as medic very seriously, despite their leader's stubborn protests. Rose makes a concerning announcement during their strategy meeting. She reflects on the growing trust between her companions and wonders how many more secrets are lingering between them. Gale is acting strange, and the devious smile on Astarion's face might hint as to why.

Jewelry softly jingled as rings rolled at the bottom of their crates. Bottles of aged wine clinked together, cushioned by little more than loose fabrics. Each set of arms cradled an open crate of goods from the village, ranging from magical to mundane. The camp would be alerted well in advance of their arrival, if not because of their heavy footfalls then it would be because of Alfira’s humming on the way back. Gleefully, Wyll would change his gait from even steps to long graceful strides along the melody that surrounded them. He circled them with a bow, extending a hand towards Alfira to join him. His antics were enough to disrupt the bard’s humming with a fit of giggles. The neck of a bottle leaned dangerously over the edge of his crate. 

“Careful!” Alfira gasped.

Rose skid to her knees, catching their precious cargo in her free arm before it could hit the ground.

Her shoulder did not appreciate this stunt. But the wine was saved!

They collectively breathed a sigh of relief, immediately followed by laughter.

“Sorry,” the Blade chuckled, taking back the bottle and gently laying it in his crate, “I got carried away by the spirit of the ballroom!”

“You were going to be carried away by the spirit of the river if this broke,” Rose teased. Pain shot through her arm as she pushed herself to her feet. Even with helpful hands extended to help her, she waved them off quietly.

“I’ll take another look at that shoulder,” Shadowheart commented as they continued their trek to camp, “and whatever it is that you’ve been nervous about, stop it. You aren’t doing yourself any favors leaving your wounds untreated.”

The assassin averted her gaze. The hidden presence of her scars stretched over her body, just by the mere thought. But the throbbing in her shoulder couldn’t care less about how much attention the hidden wounds were about to receive.

“Fine, but only the shoulder. Nothing more.”

“You shouldn’t have said that. Now I have to make sure nothing else is wrong.”

“Everything else is fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes, dropping the matter for the rest of their travel.

If it wasn’t the disappearance of Rose’s tent that made camp feel off, it was definitely the way Astarion and Gale relaxed at their tents. They both held books in their hands but with varying facial expressions that hinted how intensely they were concentrated on their reading material. For starters, Astarion didn’t seem to be reading his book, but used it as an excuse to lounge outside and pretend he wasn’t trying to hear what else was going on in camp. There was a smirk across his face, and a devious glint in his eye when he glanced over at the returning party. The wizard had set up a stool as a makeshift table where he scribbled a quill into parchment, refusing to look up from his work. His cheeks looked redder than usual but Rose couldn’t make out if it was due to anger or some other expression. When Gale chanced a look up from his work, his face flushed at the sight of the group, and quickly returned to his writing.

Huh, that was…odd.

Lae’zel approached and stood at the ready like the trained warrior she was.

“I rested, as instructed,” she announced to Rose, “and completed the task you assigned to me.”

“Did you slaughter an ant hill while we were away?” Shadowheart teased, “I know they can be vicious in large numbers.”

“I do not know what this ‘ant hill’ is but your tone is clear that this is not a worthy enemy. I wouldn’t waste my time on such things.”

Lae’zel’s snarl gave the cleric her achievement, and a satisfied smirk stretched over her lips. Rose jabbed an elbow into Shadowheart’s side, shooting her a warning look.

”Where’d you move my tent to?” She asked, realizing her tent could be literally anywhere at that point. She didn’t think to give Lae’zel specific instructions on the where, just the what. The gith extended an arm towards the bushes, where the top of a tent could be seen just over them. From the looks of it, her new sleeping arrangement was just off the path to the river, but still in sight of the others. She sighed with relief. “Perfect.”

The gith nodded, pleased to have finished her assignment to satisfaction. Unprompted, she began taking the crates out of everyone’s hands, stacking them carefully on the ground before hoisting them into her arms. It was always astounding that Lae’zel, despite her slim and sleek stature, was one of the strongest among them. 

“The scouts returned some time ago.” Lae’zel explained as she adjusted her hold for more stability, “I would suggest speaking to them urgently. The wizard in particular seemed flustered upon return. I asked what happened but he wouldn’t say…which is odd for him.”

Great .

“I wonder what they got up to,” Shadowheart smirked towards Astarion. 

The Elf’s head rested casually in his hand, looking past Shadowheart to their increasingly cautious leader. His smirk grew ever slightly, and he wiggled his fingers in her direction, as if innocently greeting her back from a long morning. 

Gods, what did you do?

Her good arm was firmly tugged towards him. Shadowheart’s hold did not ease, but somehow she managed to swipe one of the wine bottles from the crates before the gith made off with them. The cleric was going to make good on her promise to examine that arm, whether Rose protested or not.

“Ah, my favorite traveling companions!” Astarion greeted them, though made no move to make room for them. “How was the village? Kill anything interesting?”

“Giant spiders,” Shadowheart answered, giving Rose’s arm another tug closer, “ this one had the bright idea to act as bait for the Queen and almost lost her arm.”

“Seems to be firmly attached. Though give it another tug, maybe it’ll come loose.”

“Other arm.”

Astarion tutted teasingly. Seeming to have his entry fee paid for by way of quips and gossip, he closed the red-covered book and adjusted the few pillows he stole from the grove. The cleric wasted no time pushing Rose down to them. At least she had the courtesy to let the assassin doff her own armor while the elves gossiped.

“Didn’t the goblins get a good stab into her arm at the grove?”

“At this rate, maybe she doesn’t want her arms?” Shadowheart uncorked the bottle of wine and poured it into a set of brass cups. “It’d be easier for her to ask Lae’zel to chop them off.”

“HA! What a shame, they’re lovely arms, too.” He held out his cup to tap her’s. “I’m still thinking about how they wrapped around—“

She pulled her drink back right before their cups touched.

“Ugh, stop. I didn’t bring her here for you to ogle at.”

Their words didn’t match the sounds they spoke. After more back and forth between her pointy-eared friends, she realized the tongue they conversed in was not the common one. 

“I’m surprised the Blade of Frontiers was nowhere to be found while a Damsel was in Distress.”

“The damned Matriarch hatched half of its nest and surrounded us.”

When did they shift to speaking in Elven?

“You know, maybe scouting with Gale wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.”

Wait, how did she know they were speaking Elven?

“I wonder if Gale would say the same about you.”

She understands Elven?!

“Did you miss me that much, darling?” Astarion smirked, addressing Rose in the Common tongue.

She was staring. Hand frozen over the armor that now rested in her lap.

Could she speak Elven?

Did she want to try?-- No, no. Not yet. Keeping this info to herself could be…useful.

“Did you break our wizard?” she blurted out, taking the conversation by the horns and steering it as far from her sudden discovery as plausible.

“In what way?” He leaned towards her, pulling the armor from her lap and pushing it aside, “don’t tell me you’re the jealous type?”

He began to crawl closer, but a hand jutted out, holding him at its length. The cleric eyed him sternly, “I don’t want to be confined to camp the rest of the day, so how about you take a few steps back and let me work?”

He pouted, but settled for sitting cross-legged in front of them.

“I need you to take this off, I can’t really see what I need to.” The cleric gave her shirt a few light tugs, but made no attempt to remove the garment herself.

She looked over the campsite. Wyll and Alfira were chatting next to Gale, and Lae’zel was walking a crate of items over to his tent. 

“Fine.” Rose tugged on her sleeve, hoping to limit how much of her shirt she’d be stripping. The pain in her shoulder disagreed. Greatly.

Shadowheart put a hand on Rose’s, stopping her from agitating the joint any further. “I’ll handle it.”

Astarion shifted how he was seated, managing his way closer to the two of them. The cleric didn’t stop him. She wondered if he did it on purpose, because she could tell that the rest of camp would have trouble seeing her bare front as Shadowheart pulled the shirt over her head.

”Oh hells,” she gasped, “well, that explains some things.”

Reflexively, Rose brought an arm over her stomach, hiding the scars. They looked worse in broad daylight. They weren’t faded, and stood out nastily against her flesh. Similar to the scars on her face and neck, these seemed to be new. Well, new er .

“Don’t make a fuss about it.” What she wanted to sound like a warning came out more as a plea. Her eyes narrowed, disappointed with herself. She grabbed the shirt from the cleric’s hands and covered her torso with it as Shadowheart abided by her wishes and focused on examining her injured shoulder.

“I presume you’ve already seen the scars?” the half-elf reverted back to Elven, briefly turning her look towards the other elf.

He didn’t answer. The cleric didn’t seem to mind as she scooted towards her back, following the marks in her shoulder left by the matriarch. The elvish muttering began, mentioning infection and a forming bruise.

“I still didn’t get an answer about how I supposedly broke the wizard,” Astarion spoke in Common, ignoring Shadowheart’s question entirely. But Rose wasn’t supposed to show she knew that, and forced back her smile.

“He’s all red in the face and isn’t making eye contact with anyone.”

“Mmmh, he seems to be just fine looking at Wyll. Although maybe he doesn’t think a stone eye counts as eye contact.”

“Astarion.”

“We were just having a casual conversation— you know, like anyone would when stuck alone for hours!”

“What did you say? ” She asked, slowly.

No answer, but his smirk screamed mischief.

“Nothing broken, but it’s going to be sore,” Shadowheart interrupted, “we’ll need to clean it in the river before doing anything else.” The cleric rose to her feet, handing the untouched wine cup to Astarion. 

Rose narrowed her eyes one last time to the elf, who continued to revel in getting away with… something. Before Shadowheart could complain, she was on her feet and following after.

Everyone took a few moments to rest, eat some fish, and relax after the long morning. Except Rose, who couldn’t be afforded such luxuries. She sat in the command tent, updating her journal in the light that streamed in from the open flaps. Various thoughts tangled together in the mess of her mind, slowly making sense as they were transferred to the page. 

A village that was long abandoned, now home to a horde of goblins. How long had they been there? It had to be recent, considering the grove’s concern. If the goblins had always been this close, they would’ve been more prepared to protect themselves and the refugees. 

Shadowheart’s worship of Shar, a confession holding immense weight on their cleric’s shoulders. The goddess’s name was vaguely familiar as she wrote it, but nothing else bubbled to the surface. Perhaps she was familiar with the goddess in a similar sense as any other commoner would be. She wouldn’t linger on it, not now. With a shake of her head, she continued her musings.

Earlier, entering the village and testing their True Soul theory— what was that she felt earlier in her head? The tadpole bit her, didn’t it? Was she the only one who felt it? Did anyone else feel it but were too fearful to share such a detail? Her eyes wandered to the rest of the camp outside.

Secrets were the core of each person in that camp— perfectly understandable, considering they were total strangers. Well, not total strangers at this point. 

Astarion and Shadowheart leaned against each other, snickering and gossiping behind their cups. Likely speaking in Elven as Rose had witnessed earlier. Gale sat with Alfira and Wyll as he examined the magical items from the village. Every so often, he looked to the bard and blade to add to whatever conversation they were having. Laughter filled the air of the camp. He didn’t seem to have issues with eye contact anymore, which was a relief.

How much were they still hiding from each other? 

”Something troubles you,” Lae’zel’s voice snapped her back to reality. Her form partially blocked the light in the command tent as she stood at its entrance. Despite the sternness in her eyes, there was a hint of concern in her tone. Rose couldn’t help but smile. Not a tenday ago it seemed the gith couldn’t care less about the human’s troubles.

“Something always troubles me, isn’t that the nature of leadership? To be troubled?”

“Is that why you asked for your tent to be isolated from the rest?”

The smile disappeared. “Somewhat. Do you think it was an overreaction?”

“No. It was smart. If your nightly terrors continue, our position would be given away or you’d impede the camp’s rest. It was necessary. You’re thinking of the group, as a commander should.”

“I knew you’d understand,” Rose sighed, “gather the others, we need to plan our next move.”

With a nod, Lae’zel disappeared from the tent and made her rounds. She walked from tent to tent, announcing that the party had been summoned. Astarion and Shadowheart didn’t drop their playful demeanors, which irritated the gith enough to quicken her steps to Gale’s tent. The way that she became frustrated with the camp elves was as fascinating as it was amusing. Gale, Alfira, and Wyll gave her the opposite reaction. She was more relaxed upon returning.

”They’ve been summoned.”

Within moments, the party gathered in the cramped space around the map. Shadowheart per usual, pulled out her own map and handed an extra piece of charcoal to Rose. Gale gingerly placed the crate of magical items on the ground, lingering for a moment as his eyes fell to the boots she wore. Ah, she forgot to remove them when they got back. He didn’t say a word about it as he rounded the stone and stood across from her. A rolled piece of parchment stuck out from the crate. His notes, probably. She plucked it from the crate to examine briefly.

As Rose scanned the writing, everyone else in the tent shushed their conversations. With a nod, the parchment was folded and tucked between the pages of her journal. She looked to the faces of her team, straightening her own posture as she addressed them.

“The village had been destroyed long before the goblins had arrived,” she began, looking at Lae’zel, Gale, and Astarion as she filled them in, “acting as True Souls, the guards let us in and walk around as we pleased. However this Absolute worship works, the tadpoles are definitely connected. Which brings me to my first question to all of you. Did anyone else feel a bite from their tadpoles earlier today?”

“A what!?” Lae’zel hissed.

‘I’ll take that as a no.’

“When I used the tadpole to assert our place as True Souls, I felt a twinge in my head. Nothing has happened since, but those of us considering the tadpole’s potential need to be aware of the risk involved.” She looked to the gith, who was controlling her breathing, “Lae’zel, I want you to stick with me the rest of the day. Keep an eye for any symptoms that we should be concerned about.”

Lae’zel nodded. Still not relaxing, but her arms changed from seeking weapons to crossing in front of her breastplate. Rose continued.

”The goblins sent their forces up north to raid Waukeen’s Rest. I would hope this means the temple has weakened defenses. Gale, Astarion: what did you see?”

”Not much,” Astarion waved a flippant hand, “you couldn’t find a better vantage point, Lae’zel?”

The gith ignored him.

Rose looked directly at Gale. His face flushed, instantly. Gods damn it. Her eyes narrowed, side eyeing the elf who suddenly became interested in the meeting.

The Wizard cleared his throat, shaking through his flustered expression and doing his best to recite their findings as expected of him.

”We saw outside the walls of the temple grounds, but hardly any view into the courtyard. Although, I didn’t see a lot of goblins roaming about either. No signs of Sazza, but I did see Brynna and her brother help move some crates about the place. Along with an ogre. Which, might I remind, is the first we’re becoming aware of them— up to this point it was just goblins and Drow. If there is one ogre, there are likely to be more. I advise that we choose our moment of attack wisely.”

“Are we going to strike while their forces are thinned?” Lae’zel asked, eyeing the map, “did you two find another way into the temple besides the bridge?”

“Well,” Astarion chimed in, “there was a way over the river, littered with traps. Good thing someone was there to disarm them.” He smiled cheekily, waiting for praise. The silence was met with a pout. The elf leaned over the map, pointing to where he made this discovery. He was quick to move his hand away when Rose pressed charcoal to parchment. “There are some trenches to jump over but it goes around their guardpost. We could sneak right in, leave them none the wiser.”

“That’s one idea…what else?” Rose looked to the others surrounding the map.

Shadowheart’s eyes were trained on where the temple had been marked. “I would wager the temple has been abandoned just as long as the village. There could be structural wear and tear over the years. If we go inside we should be careful to not cause any collapse. Unless it suits our needs, of course.”

“It could be perfect to find another way into the temple that isn’t the front gates,” Wyll pointed out, “a weakened wall, maybe? And a temple— well those are built tall and with rafters. If those haven’t fallen, we’d be able to position ourselves advantageously to strike from above.”

Notes were added to the journal as the ideas began to flow— much smoother than their last strategy meeting. Shadowheart and Wyll went back and forth on temple architecture and the best spots for stealthy movements. Gale reminded them of the storm they weathered, which would affect the surrounding terrain and make sneaking into the territory tricky for a group of their size. Lae’zel  suggested that this same storm could slow their army’s travel, buying them slightly more time before their forces returned.

“I want to know the layout of the temple before we do anything else,” Rose concluded. “I’m worried about what Sazza told them when she got back, what forces they have left to deploy, and we still haven’t come across a drow among the goblins. Not to mention: Master Halsin could be in there and have more answers about the tadpoles. Let’s gear up and head out. From what we know, they’ll let a True Soul waltz right in— and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

While the party was donning armor and packing supplies, Rose distributed the magical wares. Gale’s notes on the items were messily scribbled, but came with suggestions of who would gain the most use of certain items. Some of their magical properties were straightforward, like the weapons which were enchanted with more strength. She kept the boots on herself, and claimed the enchanted dagger. Lae’zel accepted the enchanted sword and a magical helm that Gale noted would boost speed. Specifically, he wrote ‘suitable for a front-line warrior, such as Lae’zel.’ Others were a little more involved, like a pair of bracers that could offer protection similar to a shield or armor, but only if the wearer didn’t have armor themselves. 

Apparently, magical items had standards.

“Gale, I’ve got something for you,” Rose announced as she approached the closed tent with the bracers tucked under her arm. A mage hand peeled one of the flaps open.

Gale was adjusting the strap to his book holster, with a practiced gesture testing how practical the new length was in terms of reach. He had the fastest preparation of the whole camp, needing only his robes before they departed. Some days he spent the rest of the time studying their scrolls or writing in his tome. Seems like she arrived just at the tail end of his prep.

“Ah, I’ll be right with you,” he answered with a wave. He avoided eye contact, decidedly fiddling with the book holster more than necessary, “erm, you said you had something for me?”

Her eyes narrowed.

”What happened this morning? You haven’t been able to look at me plainly since we got back.”

His cheeks flushed, “Ah sorry it—” he cut himself off, pausing. “It’s nothing. Astarion managed to get under my skin, is all.”

“Does he know about your condition?”

“No! No, he— I don’t think he does.” The redness spread over the rest of his face, “not based on what he was saying, at least. He has quite the imagination, that Astarion. But imagination is all it is, nothing further.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. Whatever he ‘ imagined’ left Gale… in whatever the hells state this was.

“Fine. I’m giving you the bracers,” she held the bracers up by her face, forcing him to tilt his head to look at her properly.

“Really?” Awe washed over his face as his eyes shifted between the bracers and her face.

“Your notes were clear: anyone with armor wouldn't benefit from these. Seeing as you’re the only one without armor, they’re perfectly suited for you.”

He swallowed, reaching for the bracers with a hungry look in his eyes. Once in his hand, he examined the leather detailing. “You mean it, I can have this…? For—”

She placed her hand over his, further securing his hold on them, “for whatever you need. They’re yours now.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled the bracers to his chest, holding them closely with a heavy sigh. Rose nodded towards him, before turning on her heel to leave. Bright purple lights illuminated the inside of the tent, as the air vibrated around her. She whipped around suddenly, finding that it was Gale who was the source. The bracers briefly glowed, as did the marks on his skin that spiraled away from his chest.

“That hit the spot.”

Rose blinked at him, unsure if she should look at the wizard or the bracers that he was now sliding onto his arms.

“Well,” she did little to hide her surprise and confusion, “I’m glad I found something so soon.”

“Me too, I hope we continue to be fortunate this way.” he smiled, with more life reflecting in his eyes than earlier that day. “Sincerely though: I understand I’m asking a lot without many answers in return. I promise, in due time, all will be told.”

In due time. Maybe she should consider the same.

Next Chapter >>

[wouldyoustilllovemeifiwasawyrm]

Little Knights

Linktober 2023 Day 31: Free For All Azu’s eyes lit up with excitement. “You’ll really teach us to be real knights?!” “I’ll teach you how to fight.” Link clarified. “There’s a lot more to being a knight than just sword fighting.”

Symin brushed the day’s lesson from the chalkboard. Zelda set the books back onto the shelves, checking for any leaves that the kids liked to leave between the pages. Another day of teaching the young people of Hateno Village had come to an end, and Link was eager to spend some time in the forests that afternoon. He’d heard rumors of a few monsters that moved into the Cliffs of Quince, and he intended to clear them out as soon as possible.

When Link stepped out of the schoolhouse to begin shuttering the windows, preparing for the storm that loomed in gray clouds to the east, he heard the tell-tale THWACK of wood on wood. He peered around the corner, surprised to find two young boys swinging snapped branches at the trunk of a wide tree just behind the school.

“Take that, monster!” Azu cried as he swung his branch, hitting the tree with such force that it sent shocks back up through the boy’s arms.

“We’ve got you cornered now!” Sefaro laughed, striking the other side of the tree with quick, random swings, knocking loose chunks of bark.

Link watched them for a moment, an amused smile on his face. “What are you two up to back here?”

The boys jumped backward in surprise.

“Mr. Link!” Azu exclaimed, waving to him. “We’re training to be knights like you!”

“Yeah!” Sefaro grinned broadly, swinging his branch with such a flourish that he might be better suited for a stage than a battlefield. “We’re gonna defend the village and serve in the Princess’s army!”

While Link wasn’t aware that the Princess had any such army, or intended to muster one any time soon, he had to give merit to their enthusiasm. “Who’s been teaching you?”

The boys exchanged confused looks. “No one?” Sefaro frowned. “We just practice our swings against this tree.”

Link raised a brow. “Is the tree a good opponent?”

“I mean, it’s a big target.” Azu kicked at a stone, deliberately avoiding meeting Link’s gaze.

Sefaro had no such trepidation. He pointed the tip of his branch at Link. “How hard could it be? We’ve seen you fight monsters! You just swing your sword around and hit them!”

A laugh escaped Link’s lips despite his best efforts. “Yep, that’s me. Swinging randomly at monsters.” Link knelt down and grabbed a similarly sized branch. “They call me the legendary swordsman just because the sword is legendary. Nothing about technique.”

“Sefaro…” Azu warned, his eyes darting toward his hapless friend.

The less timid boy, undeterred at all, ran at Link. He let out a high-pitched battle cry, holding his sword like a battering ram at Link’s stomach. Link stepped to the side, raised his branch, disarmed his smaller opponent, and gave the kid a light whack on the back of his legs as Sefaro stumbled and fell forward.

“Ack!” Sefaro let out a cry of surprise just before face-planting into the grass. The boy laid there a moment, stunned, before lifting his head. Tears sprung to his eyes, his face red. Besides the smudge of dirt on his forehead, the boy’s only injury was to his pride.

Link grabbed Sefaro’s branch, offering it back to the boy. “So, do you boys want to learn some proper sword fighting?”

Azu’s eyes lit up with excitement. “You’ll really teach us to be real knights?!”

“I’ll teach you how to fight.” Link clarified. “There’s a lot more to being a knight than just sword fighting.”

Sefaro, his ego severely wounded, sniffled miserably as he took his weapon back. “Like what?”

Link started listing skills on his fingers. “Horseback riding, polearms, axes, scouting, chivalry, equipment maintenance, battle strategy, and archery, for starters.”

“What’s chivalry?” Azu asked, tilting his head to the side.

“It’s a fancy word for being nice to the Princess.” Sefaro explained.

Link pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s more than that, but sure. Point is, there’s a lot of work and training that goes into being a knight. You have to be willing to put in that work. Diligently. Are you willing?”

“I am!” Sefaro declared, raising his branch high.

“Me too!” Azu hopped up and down, eager to begin training. “Whatever you tell us to do, we’ll do it!”

“Good.” Link nodded. “Practicing improperly could get both you and your friend hurt. So, first things first.” He gestured for both boys to stand in front of him, facing each other. They quickly complied. “We’ll start with your stances. Left foot in front of the right, knees bent, hips forward.”

The boys mimicked him, though Link quickly corrected Azu’s reversed foot stance by tapping his ankle with his branch. When the boys had the basic stance down, Link continued.

“Bring your sword down to your right hip. Left hand at the base of your sword, right up toward the crossguard.” He paused. “Well, you don’t have one.” He showed them the correct placement, about a hand and a half away from the pommel. “Tip of the blade pointed right between your opponent’s eyes.”

“And then we hit him?!” Sefaro asked, already bringing his branch up to strike Azu in the face.

“No.” Link pushed Sefaro’s branch back down. “This is a guard stance. It’s defensive, not offensive. This is the most important position you can take in swordfighting. From here, you can block most strikes.”

Sefaro frowned, obviously displeased with being delayed from swinging his sword with wild abandon, but he didn’t verbally complain.

Link held his own branch out, taking an offensive stance. “When I bring my sword down, you bring yours up and forward to catch mine. Twist your hands so you catch my sword with a good grip.”

Sefaro nodded, adjusting his grip on his weapon and watching Link carefully. When Link brought his branch down in a diagonal strike, slow enough to let Sefaro track it easily, the boy raised his branch, caught Link’s strike, and pushed the tip of Link’s wooden blade up and out of the way.

Link nodded. “Good. Azu, your turn.”

Sefaro’s eyes glittered with excitement, a wide smile bursting across his face. Link briefly wondered how often that boy was praised.

Following the same motion, Azu raised his branch in defense, knocking against Link’s weapon. With the gap left by the defensive maneuver, Azu brought his branch down onto Link’s wrist. “Bonk.”

Link laughed, stepping back from between the boys. “That’s exactly right. Once your opponent has been deflected, you can counterstrike on their right side. The shoulder, arm, and wrist are all good targets.”

Azu beamed up at him. “What’s next, Mr. Link?”

Link thought for a moment, his hand to his chin. “I’ll teach you one offensive strike. The one I was doing a moment ago.” He faced them, demonstrating the movement as he spoke. “Start with your sword at shoulder level. Bring the blade forward to close the line between yourself and your opponent. This will keep you on guard for any counter-attacks. Take a step forward and to the right. This brings you out of their line of attack. Bring your blade down diagonally, striking your opponent on the shoulder. By dodging as you move, you’re protecting your head.” When he’d demonstrated this technique several times, pausing to make sure they saw the small turns of his wrists, he bid them to face each other. “Azu, you first. Sefaro, take the guard stance, but don’t swing up and deflect. Let him tap you.”

The boys obeyed. Sefaro watched Link carefully as he adjusted Azu’s grip and downward swing, taking in every word and correction with rapt attention. When Azu tapped Sefaro’s shoulder three times, they switched. Sefaro stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth, concentrating as he brought his sword down, tapping it against Azu’s shoulder. Link did not need to correct Sefaro’s form, nodding as the boy practiced two more swings.

“Good work. Let’s put it together. Azu, you strike. Sefaro, you deflect. Then we’ll switch.”

With determined nods, the boys locked their sights on each other. Azu swung his branch down at Sefaro, who twisted and deflected his opponent’s strike away. With a bright smile, Sefaro fell back into the ready stance, bringing his sword up to his shoulder to strike at Azu. Azu fumbled with his grip. Link stepped in, guiding the boy’s wrists to the correct position to deflect. When he backed out of the way, Sefaro’s branch came down. Azu accidentally twisted to the right side, getting smacked on his shoulder.

“Ouch!” Azu whined, glaring at his friend. “You didn’t have to swing that hard!”

“You shouldn’t have gone the wrong way!” Sefaro sneered. “It’s not my fault you’re a bad swordsman!”

“Sefaro.” Link warned. “Knights do not mock each other. They help each other succeed. If you want to be a knight, you have to encourage your friends, not make them feel worse.”

Sefaro’s face reddened, and he looked away, mumbling an apology. “Sorry, Mr. Link.”

“I’m not the one you wounded.” Link reminded him.

Wincing, Sefaro glanced back up at his friend. “I’m sorry for calling you a bad swordsman, Azu. And for hitting you too hard.”

Azu sniffled, not physically hurt so much as startled and embarrassed. “It’s okay. I’ll block it next time.” Azu looked up at Link. “Can I try again?”

“Please do.” Link nodded, watching carefully as they set back up. This time, Azu twisted to his left, caught Sefaro’s branch on the upswing, and tapped Sefaro’s arm. The boys practiced this move, attacking and deflecting, getting faster with the swings and parries each time, until the sun started to dye the sky pink and gold.

Bells rung five times.

The boys lowered their weapons, looking up at Link. “Will you teach us more tomorrow?”

“I will.” Link promised.

A bright, tired smile spread across Sefaro’s face. “I can’t wait to tell Dad I’ll be a real knight!” He hugged Link’s legs. “Thank you, Mr. Link!”

A bit awkwardly, Link patted his head. “Er, yeah. My pleasure. You two had better run home before your parents start to worry, okay?”

“Yes, sir!” Azu chimed, giving Link a lop-sided salute before running to set his branch down by the tree. “Come on, Sefaro!”

Link watched the boys run off, back down the hill and into town, as fast as their tired legs could carry them. He smiled, taking the Master Sword out of the sheath on his back. He ran through a few forms, trying to decide what to teach them next. Nothing too difficult.

“Well, Mr. Link,” Zelda's teasing voice cut through his concentration, making him almost drop the hilt of his sword. His Princess emerged from the other side of the schoolhouse, her hands folded neatly behind her back. “And here you said you didn’t know how to handle kids.”

Link blushed, re-sheathing his sword. “I just didn’t want them to hurt themselves. How…er, how long were you watching that?”

“Not long.” Zelda admitted with a shrug. “Amira said her son didn’t come home at the usual time. I thought I’d check back here first.” She quickly closed the gap between them, resting her arms over his shoulders. “I didn’t expect to find you back here too, though I am quite pleased.” She laughed lightly, brushing her nose against his. “I had no idea you had an interest in training in the next generation of Hyrule’s knights.”

Link left his hands fall to her waist, holding her gently, a shy smile on his lips. “Yeah, well, someone has to.”

Her soft lips on his sent his heart soaring. “And I’m very glad that someone is you, Link.”

[webslingerx]

Starter for @blxxditout

New York. New York to some, was a land of opportunity and to the other “some” people, it was the world’s business trade center. New York offered a lot for its people and tourists to see and view, such as St. Patrick’s Cathedral, West Village and one of Peter’s personal favorite, The Empire State Building.

Peter shook his head softly clearing his mind and thoughts as he weaved through the crowds of people. He was late for work. Again. The woman he spoke with on the phone earlier said if he was an hour late for the fourth time he’d be fired swiftly. Lucky for him he was only 47 minutes late. Still too close for his liking but… what can he do? It was hard being a hero and working a normal job and living a normal life. Somedays.. it seemed impossible to live a normal lifestyle. He loved his life and his secret identity but with all the pros, it does come with some cons.

As he was in his thoughts, he bumps into someone. This caused his briefcase to pop open, sending all his domestic and papers everywhere. He quickly grabs a few that linger in the air and then squats down to scoop up the rest. Without looking up, he apologizes purposefully.

“I’m so sorry! This was my fault… I wasn’t paying attention.. in my thoughts as always.. are.. are you okay?”

[heisenberg-simp257]

We always make Heisenberg jealous, but what if we did the opposite and made the reader jealous when she found out that there was a girl from the village flirting with him? 😩

Good idea anon!😂 It's just so easy to make him jealous 💖

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Favorites

Before you came along, Heisenberg had his favorites.

“Who is she?” Was the first thing you said when Heisenberg came back into the factory. 

Well, let’s recap real quick.

You’ve seen Heisenberg go down to the village a number of times, which was odd to you, considering he liked to keep to himself. Other than gathering bodies and scrape, you didn’t know what else he would need there. So, one day you decided to follow him, and that’s when you saw it.

There was a woman, flirting with him.

You knew it was flirting because she had her hand on his arm, rubbing it up and down in a rather peculiar manner. Also, he wasn’t pushing her away. They were also talking like they knew each other.

The sight alone was enough to get your blood boiling.

However, instead of confronting them here and now, you decided to wait till he got home. For starters, you didn’t want to make a scene. Second, if you were wrong, you didn’t want to look like a fool.

Back to what was happening now.

“Who is what?” He said back to you, but that just caused your glare to deepen. It took a while, but your anger seemed to dawn on him as he slowly nodded at you.

“Right...that girl.” He said, moving to rub the back of his neck before saying, “Y/N, let me explain-”

“No. I don’t know if I should let you.” You said bitterly to him, folding your arms and never breaking your stare from his. That’s when Heisenberg narrowed his own eyes.

“Don’t be so jealous. It’s not what you think.” He said, and you scoffed.

“Jealous? Of some tramp? Hardly.” You said while turning away from, face getting all flustered after he started to laugh.

“Y/N, that woman means nothing to me.” He said while gesturing his arms wildly, raising his voice in order to get his point across. You slowly moved to hug yourself as you looked over your shoulder.

“Then...explain...” You said cautiously, and he took a deep breath. Whatever he was about to tell you must not be easy because you’ve never seen him look so nervous before.

“Y/N, before I met you I had my...favorites...from the village.” The way he said that word made you shiver and nearly want to vomit. You shot him a glare, but he raised a hand to stop you from saying anything.

“Obviously not anymore...but she was one of them. Apparently hasn’t got the fucking message yet either.” Heisenberg said with a scoff, and you slowly relaxed your stance. However, one question still remained for you.

“Then why do you go there so often?” You asked.

“Because I need fucking scrape for my projects. That bitch hunts me down like a shark whenever I go there.” He said while wincing, and you nearly laughed. However, he beat you to it all while wearing that charming ass smile on his face.

He wrapped you into a hug.

“There’s no need for you to get jealous. I’m all for you, darling.” He said to you, and you couldn’t stop the relief that came. You moved to hug him back, taking in his scent.

“I know...but let me get your scrape from now.” You told him, anger creeping back into your veins at the thought of seeing that scene again. You could hear him chuckle.

“Are you going to put me on lockdown?” He asked you, and you smiled.

“Until she’s dead.” You stated, and while you thought he’d throw a fit, he simply started to laugh again.

“Anything to make you stay by my side.”

[smallestapplin]

Just had the cutest idea

So what if both Ingo and his wife had Amnesia when they first arrive at hisui. However when they first meet each other both instantly fell in love. Which leads to them both courting each other and little later getting married in hisui.

And whenever they return to modern times and regain their memories. They get all blush and bashful cause they realized that they loved each other so much they ended up getting married a second time in ancient hisui.

Bonus that in A museum exhibit on ancient hisui there is a photo of them on their wedding day surrounded by their friends and Pokémon . 

I hope your month is good, both pillow sides cool, and crops watered.

I kept reader neutral.

3,000 words, OOPS

-

-

You couldn’t remember anything aside from your name. You panicked when you realized that waking up to a man towering over you.

Laventon had comforted you best he could, trying to calm your frantic self, and while it worked he could see you were still afraid, nervous, and confused.

After you helped him with catching his run away starters he took you in. The village wasn’t as welcoming but you had him, Rei, and later Cyllene.

You did everything that was asked if you, what else were you to do? The strange arcphone and the commander’s orders were all you had to go by.

This world is new and terrifying but you managed. Filling up the pokedex came with risks and those nobles were no laughing matter.

Yet at night you still tried to remember anything about yourself, but all you were left with was questions.

Where did you come from?

What was your original home?

Did you have family?

Why is there a ring on your finger?

Why did you feel attached to it?

Why does you bed feel off?

Why do you feel like someone is missing?

You had no answer to any of them, and the lost kept growing.

You kept yourself busy as to distract yourself from your thoughts.

You walked out of your home like you have been for months now only to be stopped by a stranger.

He looks tired all hunched over like that but he seems so…familiar, tattered black and rust colored coat with a hat to match,a pearl clan tunic, and black pants and shoes, his expression looked more stern, frown settled onto his face. You feel like that goatee wasn’t there before, but you can’t place why.

His pale silver eyes locked with yours and you felt that air leave your body.

He looks so rugged and handsome, you felt the urge to run into his arms and confess your love for him.

Your own thoughts scared you, he is a stranger for crying out loud.

You didn’t know he felt that same that moment.

Look at your beautiful eyes, your surprise expression is so cute, sleep having left you, he could just coo at how cute you look half dazed in your survey outfit.

“Good morning, person from the sky! I apologize for almost running into you like that, the commander has informed me he wants you in his office.”

You struggle to keep standing. His voice sounds like home, it fills you with so much joy.

His voice is so lovely, you could listen to him talk for hours.

And deep down you feel like you have.

“Oh! Thank you.” You nod and left for the commanders office.

You can feel your face burning.

Ingo watches you leave, his heart yearning for you to come back. He feels light headed, his heart is beating so quickly.

He made his way to the training grounds per Irida’s orders and waited.

His heart goes right back to pounding against his rib cage when he sees you waking towards him with his clan leader.

“This is Ingo, he is Lady Sneasler’s warden, he is much like you! A stranger without his memory aside him his name.”

Ingo tilts his hat down in a slight bow, but also trying to cover his blushing face.

“Pleased to properly meet you. I apologize for the abrupt how-do-you-do before. I am the warden Ingo. I understand you’ll need a hand from Sneasler in order to meet Electrode Whether she’ll see fit to help you, however, we can only find out by making the journey. Now, let’s have a safe journey to Mount Coronet! All aboard!"

His face burns at the sound of your cute laughter. He is quick to leave to calm his beating heart once more.

“Hm that’s odd, I’ve never seen him act like that before.” The leader ponders before taking her leave.

Seeing him pose like that and say things like that makes you feel a faint memory bubble up but it’s quickly forgotten when Rei comes up to you.

“You got everything for your trip to Coronet Highlands?” The boy hands you a few extra items.

“I should, don’t worry, I’ll be back sometime.”

You knew he worries for you since he and the professor took you in.

At the highlands you met up with Ingo who rambled most of the way.

Some of the things he spoke about sounded familiar to you too! Being with him makes you feel like you’re on the verge of remembering something.

Even battling made you faintly remember being in a moving metal room with him across from you. But that’s all you could remember.

He was the first one to rush up to you after you quelled Lord Electrode. Fretting over you and asking if you were okay several times.

You spent as much time as you could with him.

Both of you loved being around the other. Having been doing this for a few months before you two caved.

That night you two were out by the fabled spring, laying in the grass staring at the stars. You were pressed against his side, an action he didn’t seem to mind.

“You feel like home.”

Ingo was caught off guard by your soft admission, but he couldn’t help but move closer to you.

“As do you, I feel like I found my place with you.”

He sits up and looks at you, grabbing your hand to pull you up to him.

“If I may, I wish to court you, my heart feels complete when I’m with you, I love you so much, I want historians to read the letters I’ve written you and see my undying love for you.”

Ingo cups your hands in his own “if you’d allow me, that is.”

You didn’t respond, only giving him a tender kiss that he melts into. Pulling away you rest your forehead against his.

“I would love nothing more, I’m just so happy you feel the same.”

You two laid back in the grass, whispering your love for each other in between kisses.

After that you two were seen almost everywhere together, especially after your banishment when you moved in with him.

He was approved of by your family, Cyllene was happy you picked the most respectful person she could think of.

Laventon was just happy you were happy.

And your three little siblings gave him the talk before approving.

You spent a year with Ingo. He was your rock and the light of your life, he helped you through Volo’s betrayal and helping you fill the pokedex if you were having trouble.

Ingo was as much as your support system as you were his.

Your loving hold made him long for more.

Ingo had asked Palina for a little guidance and she was more than happy to help.

He proposed to you in the same spot you two confessed with a beautiful black pearl, as custom for the pearl clan.

“I love you, I wish to spend the rest of my life with you by my side, you mean everything to me, please, would you make me the happiest man in Hisui and be my betrothed?”

“Yes! I love you so much! My sweet man!” You both held each other crying so happily.

News was spread and a wedding happened months later.

A traditional Hisuian wedding with hints of Galarian.

It was the greatest day of your life, Cyllene comforting a sobbing Laventon.

Lian, Rei, and Sabi kept everyone in line for the most part, happy to be at your side for this.

After Irida deemed you both married cheers could be heard all across the region.

Laventon was determined to take as many photos as possible, constantly refilling his camera throughout the night.

Between a massive group picture, sectioned off smaller group photos, and so many of just guests having fun.

Laventon truly caught the love you two shared with how many pictures he had of you and Ingo looking at the other so lovingly.

It took you so much longer to complete the pokedex with how often you procrastinated finishing it. You spent so much time with your now husband and family.

When you did and Arceus called upon you to face it Ingo stopped you.

“What if you get hurt?”

“Ingo, I’ve done this plenty of times before, I have packed extra items just for this and everyone is in tip top shape.”

“My dear please, I can’t risk losing you.” He pleaded, but you stood your ground.

He finally relented, with you kissing his tear stained face.

“I’ll be back for dinner, don’t you worry.”

With that same warm smile he fell in love with you were off to the temple ruins.

When you finally beat Arceus it stood there, not having broken a sweat, while you stood panting and covered in bruises, burns and a few cuts.

“Wend to thy betrothed, and th're thee shall findeth home.”

When you came to you were still standing in the temple. Gazing at the sky you realized it was closing in on supper time, Ingo will be relived to see you.

“Honey I’m home!” You jest, only to find yourself wrapped in his arms, the smell of dinner wafting through the air.

“I’m so glad you’re back, I was so worried.” For a loud man he sounded so small right then.

You kiss his cheek “I told you I’d be back, nothing will ever keep me from you.”

With his broken laugh, he pulls away wiping away a few tears “you make it sound so ominous.”

You look at yourself in the mirror from the open doors of the bedroom, all the injuries Arceus gave you were gone, that would explain why he didn’t freak out.

“Everything alright, dear?”

“Oh! Yeah I’m fine, man do I got a story for you! Arceus truly is a pain to fight-“

“My dearest, I would love to hear your tale of battling a deity, but at this very moment I’m sure I will die from a heart attack if you do.”

“Okay that’s fair, but I gotta tell you soon!”

You both ate dinner, surrounded by your respective Pokémon, Ingo lightly scolding you for trying to feed his Gliscor a part of your portion.

It was nice to be home.

You both sat outside your shared cabin watching the sunset.

Until a new rift appeared, you and Ingo held onto each other for dear life, trying to fight the suction of the rift, your Pokémon fighting to help, last you heard was Sneasler’s loud cry.

Before you both found yourself in a tunnel? You’re light headed, you can’t stand.

“Ingo..?” You blindly try to find him but couldn’t.

You hear your name being called a few times when a man’s face blearily comes into view.

Why does he have Ingo’s face? A poor illusion you’d say. He looks frantic and talking to someone else but you black out before you could tell what.

You wake up alone in a white room and weird contraptions beeping.

“Oh good you’re awake, the doctor said you and Ingo were pretty beat up and that it could take a while.”

You look towards the voice and see the same man.

“They let a Zoroark in? Your illusion is poorly made.”

He looks shocked “you think I’m a Zoroark? Those can’t even speak!”

Now it’s your turn to be confused “where do you live where they can’t?”

“Unova! This is Unova! Y/n please you have to tell me what all of this is about, where even were you two? You disappear for years and come back in odd clothes.”

“…what? How do you know my name?”

“No no no not this again, I was hoping you’d at least remember something!”

Now that you look at him, it seems like he has been crying, his appearance is messy and exhausted.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember much but my own name and Hisui.”

You watched the man, you later came to know and remembered as Emmet, sob before he left the room.

A few days and you and Ingo let back home with Emmet.

A few memories resurfaced when time spent with him but it was a slow process. But Emmet was just happy to have you two back.

You both learned so many walking into that house, it looked untouched. Pictures lining the walls telling a story of love and family. You blushed when you saw photos of a modern wedding between you and Ingo, but kept quiet.

Memories came in short bursts and at random moments, but tears were shed nonetheless. And your old team was happy to have you back.

Though a few months into being back, and begin to you expressed your sorrows of leaving behind your Hisuian team and family there.

“I’m sorry, I just keep thinking back to Hisui, i finished the pokedex there and everything, Laventon was so happy and there was a party….I wonder how they all faired.” You sighed at dinner.

Ingo nods with you “I wish to know their fates as well, I hope they weren’t too hurt about our disappearance.”

You snort sadly “Are you kidding? Cyllene and Lian probably rioted.”

During your take with Ingo neither of you noticed Emmet typing away on his phone.

“I’ll be back you two, I have to make a phone call.” And the younger twin rushes out.

You and Ingo share a look before going back to eating a talking.

Emmet has been nothing but kind and patient with you two, which feels odd to you, you feel like he was never like that. You’re grateful though, he has been paying for everything after your disappearance and now while Ingo and you get use to Unova.

It’s probably the only reason the house was left as it was.

Emmet slide around the corner, happy as ever. “Okay! I got a week off work next week, and I booked tickets and a hotel, we are off to Sinnoh this weekend!”

You and Ingo choke “you WHAT!?”

And that week flew by.

Emmet walked you two through the airport and boarding process and keeping you two calm for the flight.

“Unlike this metal thing I could control Lord Braviary!”

“My fairest in law, I swear to whatever Sinnoh thingy you always swear to I will tape you to that seat if you don’t sit still.”

“Here.” Ingo places his coat over you and holds your hand.

“….was that SERIOUSLY all it took!?”

When you three got to the hotel Emmet laughed at your awed expressions.

Emmet took you both to see landmarks, trails, and ruins of Hisui’s history, happily listening to you and Ingo talk about it all and explaining everything to him.

“Oh! This is where me, Laventon, Rei, and eventually Cyllene would have family night, cook a big dinner so we didn’t have to go to the wallflower.”

“Oh? Why not the wallflower?”

Emmet jumps and hides behind Ingo with how fast you turned to glare.

“Beni isn’t the best, and I refuse…refused to eat anymore of his cooking.”

Next was the museum and seeing all the extinct Pokémon before the rest.

“Lady Sneasler and her kits are deeply missed, they were good company and amazing companions.”

“That’s the one you were the warden of, right?”

“Yes, she would carry me like a kit to her den after she grew to like me.” The stoic twin nods.

“That’s how he developed slight poison resistance!” You boast, holding onto his shoulders.

Emmet sighs contently watching you two walk around and talk about the many Pokémon, a few tearful ‘thank you’s to an extinct Pokémon he could only assume was your starter there.

It’s at times like these the smiling twin is glad it picked the least busiest time and least busiest day.

Especially for the tears that were shed when you three found Laventon’s journal.

The professor spoke highly of you from the beginning till the very end, you and Rei were family to him and he was glad he had gotten to know such a wonderful hero.

Cyllene’s journal was more professional but words wavering between that and casual when writing about her wild child that gave her heart attacks. That wild child being you.

You and Ingo cried seeing pictures, you got to see photos of everyone getting older, some slowly missing from the pictures as they were met by fate.

Emmet was leaving you two alone, he stuck near by but he wanted to give you two space to grieve for friends of old.

But this? He couldn’t help but laugh at this.

He gave it five minutes before calling you two over.

“Can you two explain to me this?”

You and Ingo looked at what he was talking about and instantly went flushed.

“Did you two seriously get married a second time in Hisui?” He teases.

Ingo hides his face behind his hat.

“Hey, we didn’t know! We both didn’t have our memories.” You pout.

But looking back at those photos fills you with such joy, seeing how happy everyone was.

“Man you two are so sickeningly sweet for each other, and that’s coming from me!” The younger twin laughs.

You and Emmet go back and forth until an employee stops you two.

“Oh I see you three like this exhibit, I’m glad! We had the hardest time putting it together, and everyone kept swooning at the couples love, if you see here we found a bunch of their letters and journal entries about their love for the other, and that picture of their wedding solidified it!”

You laugh along with Emmet. But you’re more embarrassed than anything at having other read your things.

“You guys look awfully similar though, that’s so cool! Anyways, if you need anything I’m happy to help!”

The second the employee left Emmet doubled over wheezing.

“Saps! The both of ya!”

You just hide your face in Ingo’s chest.

The rest of the trip is going to be similar to this you can feel it.

[theirmockingjay]

@snowalwayslandsontop ♥d the starter call and promised to be gentle which means kat be like (ง'̀-'́)ง once again.

‘He doesn't know they’ve done to twelve. If he could’ve seen what was on the ground—’

Sitting in the hovercraft she repeated her speech like a mantra, not believing her own luck. Or the other’s stupidity. So far her plan had worked. They believed her when she said they had to find a way to show Peeta how they turned his district to ashes. They were excited, even, about filming another propo, about getting her on board with the rebel propaganda.

They believed her lie.

“I’m going to my home to get some stuff for my mother”, she said after her filming was done, the sentence coming out a little stiff for her liking because after all, she had never been a good actress. Cressida was luckily focused on Gale’s next shot, so she just smiled at her and Katniss made her way to the Victor Village, where the most important part of her plan had to take place. Soon she found her house and rushed inside, anxious steps taking her upstairs to her room. The white flower was still there. Unnatural and beautiful.

Katniss did what she had planned from the moment her mind wrapped around her situation and she repeated her speech word by word, exactly as she had practiced countless times inside her head.

“I know you’re monitoring this place. I know you can see and hear me, President Snow. I need to speak to you.”

She repeated this sentence five times, like she had planned. It was a random number, but logically it should be enough time for someone to reach him and also to keep her rebel crew from suspecting she was doing anything else but grabbing stuff for the medical wing.

The next part of her speech wasn’t planned. She had the basic idea, but the words flowed like a river before she could control them.

“You don’t want Peeta. You never thought he had anything to do with this. You want me. I’m the one that pulled the berries. I’m the one that shot an arrow at your force field. I’m the one that the districts follow. I’m the spark you want to quench with your first, I’m the songbird you want to drown in your poison. It’s me they are waiting to see crumble, not him. I’m the one that you need. The one that you want. The mockingjay you can’t silence.”

With a deep breath, she spoke her next words almost in a whisper.

“And you can have it all. You can have me”, a pause, “Let Peeta go without harm and you can take me. Release Peeta, president Snow, and I’m yours”

All that was left was waiting. And she hated it.

[cubic-watermelon]

My Shining Pearl Artlocke Nuzlocke challenge

I did this when the games came out. I was trying to make the game hard because I already knew it was going to be too easy.

Here are my rules:

-Catch only the first Pokémon in each area; -Name them; (naming theme - villagers from animal crossing) -draw them; -fainting = death; -draw how they died; -no items in battle; -no legendaries; -level cap = to next leader’s ace; -game mode = set; -no in-game trades; -dupes clause, for the sake of variety.

Starter: Turtwig Name: Flora Nature: Rash Ability: Overgrow

Route 201: Starly Name: Apollo Nature: Naughty Ability: Keen eye

Route 202: nothing... a kricketot fainted to a crit by Apollo.

Route 204: Bidoof Name: Chip Nature: Gentle Ability: Simple

Route 218: Magikarp Name: Hopkins Nature: Gentle Ability: Swift swim

Route 203: Kricketot Name: Piper Nature: Hasty Ability: Shed skin

First Death: Chip I was grinding near Oreburgh Gate. Chip as already in the red and I wanted to go back to heal. ran into a starly and it didn't let me run. I was looking forward to using Chip more. His abiliti was good NGL. RIP

Oreburgh gate: Zubat Name: Celeste Nature: Sassy Ability: Inner focus

Route 207: Geodude Name: Renée Nature: Sassy Ability: Rock head

Oreburgh mine: Onix Name: Spike Nature: Quiet Ability: Sturdy

Piper evolved into DELELELEWOOOOOOOOP. Her ability is now Swarm.

going into the first Gym, this is my team. I have a flawless strategy, don't worry. (spam the "do grass damage" button)

I ended up just using Piper. She’s holding a metronome so I just spammed rock smash for an easy win.

Apollo Evolved and gained the ability intimidate.

Valley Windworks: Buizel Name: Marina Nature: Bold Ability: Swift Swim

Flora evolved.

Route 205: Pachirisu Name: Tasha Nature: Lax Ability: Pickup

This is my team for the grass Gym. I didn't catch anything on route 211 because Celeste decided to kill a meditite encounter, so, no new mon and no fire type...

Celeste and Piper had a little trouble with Roserade but we did it with my BIG BRAIN tactics! who needs fire types? then Celeste evolved... and a level later she evolved again! Now that I have a Crobat I can safely say this run is in the bag!

Hopkins evolved and now I have a killing machine with intimidate!

btw, I didn't catch anything on route 211 and 206 because Celeste likes crits.

Wayward cave: Bronzor (Gible spawns here btw...) Name: Clay Nature: Naughty Ability: Levitate

Renée evolved and I'm very surprised, I never used geodude before, she's quite good.

then, I remembered the old Chateau and went back to get me a mon.

Old Chateau: Gastly Name: Lucky Nature: Adamant Ability: Levitate

Mount Coronet: Meditite Name: Poncho Nature: Serious Ability: Pure power

route 208 - Psyduck died to a crit. route 209 - didn't find a new mon yes. Dupes Clause.

Route 210: Ponyta Name: Victoria Nature: Careful Ability: Flash fire

I went into the 3rd gym with this team but a bit weaker. Beat it with Apollo, Hopkins and Celeste but it wasn’t easy.

death 2 - Lucky. He died to a Mime Jr. of all things... I was leveling him up and I thought he could take on a shitty Mime Jr. RIP

A guy gave an egg to me in hearthome, it hatched:

Hearthome city: Happiny Name: Merengue Nature: Quirky Ability: Serene grace

Route 209: Bonsly Name: Coco Nature: Careful Ability: Rock head

Finally found a fossil undergrownd: Oreburg City: Shieldon Name: Rhonda Nature: Timid Ability: Sturdy

Happiny shoved a rock into her cooch and evolved.

And that's the end of part one! To be continued!

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/cubic-watermelon/724830775856513024/my-trash-dump

[daybreakmusings]

The scene where Nesta and Cassian return back to her old home in the village is important in her story for various reasons. 

As she said herself:

“I think I just needed to see this place. One last time. To know we got out. That there’s nothing left here except dust and bad memories.”

But despite the necessity of this scene, I believe it fails to establish key points.

After exploring her now rundown old home, Nesta reminisces over how difficult it was to live in such poor conditions while also reflecting on her relationship with her father. 

SJM never goes into detail about the origins of Nesta and Papa Archeron’s broken relationship, but it was generally understood that time and circumstance was the cause.

But what bothers me about Nesta’s reflective period was how in the process of understanding her father, she undermines and ignores her own valid feelings. 

Like Cassian rightfully said:

“You’d had your life overturned. You were allowed to be angry.”

Funny how the narrative (and even Cassian) paints her in the wrong regardless. I would have appreciated this scene more if Nesta embraced her feelings and validated her inner child because no matter how this story tries to paint it, Nesta was not the adult during those years and shouldn’t have been expected to be one.

But it is what Nesta says about her father, and the subsequent new revelations about the source of their poverty and his lack of support all those years, that anger me more:

“I never once considered what it was like for him. To go from this man who had made his own fortune, become known as the Prince of Merchants, and then lose everything. I don’t think losing my mother broke him the same way as losing his fleet. He’d been so sure the venture would gain him even more wealth—an obscene amount of wealth. People told him he was mad, but he refused to listen. When they were proved right … I think that humiliation broke him as much as the financial loss.”

Papa Archeron could be summed up in three words: Greed, Pride, Passiveness. 

Papa Archeron was a man who had already established himself in society as a wealthy and capable individual. He was a self-starter and built his legacy with his own hands. 

But he was materialistic and self-serving. He wasn’t satisfied with what he had and coveted more. At the expense of his own children and livelihood. 

It wasn’t losing his wife that made him give up on himself and his children. He was able to carry on in the aftermath. It was losing his title, and admitting defeat that did him in. It was the realization that he reached to far, too fast and didn’t heed the warnings of others that made him quit.

His own ego was his downfall. And his daughters paid the price. 

What surprises me is the fact that he was not always a rich and successful man. If he made his own fortune, then he was all too familiar with a life of moderation and restraint. The same man who was able to pull himself out of that life couldn't muster the same fortitude to do it again for his daughters?

It all comes down to willpower. If he wanted to, he could have found a way. Yet the narrative paints him as the victim. It wants us to pity this adult figure for losing a battle he picked himself.

Instead, we should shame a youthful Nesta for her rightful anger and praise the man who only grew a backbone when money re-entered his life. 

What Papa Archeron needed to do was take more active control in his own household. He was their father, yet his presence was almost apologetic. They needed him just as much as he needed them but instead of being their emotional support, he was just a passive observer.

In the glimpses we are given about him and his actions in the old house, its clear that he could have done more:

“He could find work if he wasn’t so ashamed”

“But at least Nesta didn’t fill our heads with useless talk of regaining our wealth, like my father.”

“What I really wanted to say was: You don’t even bother to attempt to leave the house most days. Were it not for me, we would starve. Were it not for me, we’d be dead.”

All that being said, does this mean that Papa Archeron didn’t love his daughters? No. 

He did care for them in a way Nesta was ready to appreciate:

“She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood...He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“It never occurred to me that he wanted us to have the bed, to keep warm and be as comfortable as we could.”

As Cassian told Nesta:

“Love is complicated.”

But love alone isn’t always enough.