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waynes-multiverse · 1 month

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Kinky request? 🤔 I don't know if you got this one already but how about Beau loving the risk of getting caught fucking in his office? Maybe turning it into a Blowjob under his desk befor they actually get caught by Popcorn or Jenny?🤭

A/N: Yup, I haven't forgotten about Dirty Drabbles. My inbox is still full of these, so here's another one. Enjoy some naughty alone time with our favorite Sheriff! 🤍🤠

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSFW, shameless flirting, semi-public smut, office blowjob, some fluff as well

Word Count: 1.4k

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles Masterlist

Jurisdiction

A few hasty knocks on his office door drew the Sheriff’s attention away from his files and to the intruder. He told Jenny and Poppernak he needed some peace and quiet this afternoon to catch up on the piling paperwork on his desk.

God, he hated paperwork. It was his least favorite part of the job.

“Popcorn, I told you I don’t wanna be disturbed,” Beau barked a little rougher than usual, the tension headache making him slightly cranky.

“Yes, sir, I know.” Poppernak swallowed and blinked at him insecurely, forcing a deep sigh from the Sheriff’s lips. “But, uhm, you have a visitor.”

Beau’s features lightened at that. Maybe Emily decided to surprise him with lunch. “Who?”

“FBI, sir.”

Once more, Beau sighed heavily, the crease in his brow reappearing. “Alright, what do they want?”

“She wants to see an old friend,” said a female voice, Beau’s head tilting at the familiarity before a smile spread on his freckled face.

“Sorry, couldn’t keep her out any longer,” Jenny apologized as she rushed in behind the agent.

“It’s alright,” Beau told his deputy, his grin only growing. Soon his sunny smile reached from ear to ear. “Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N, I’ll be damned… What brings you into my little corner of the world, huh?”

Y/N chuckled, her smile competing with his. “Heard you had a serial killer on your hands. Thought I check it out, offer my help…”

“Ah.” Beau nodded and got up from his creaking swivel chair, sauntering closer to her. He leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms in front of his chest, the shirt tightly stretching over his muscles. “Of course, the FBI’s snooping around. I believe that ain’t your jurisdiction, sweetheart.”

“C’mon, we’ve had fun last time we’ve worked together,” Y/N said and winked.

Beau laughed, his cheeks flushing red, the change of color luckily hidden by his beard. “That we did. And here I thought you just came here to see me.”

“Who says I didn’t?” Y/N smirked.

“You guys know each other?” Jenny asked curiously, catching some of the flirtatious air in the room. Beau guessed that if the blonde didn’t make the connection, she wouldn’t be such a good detective but still hoped she wouldn’t tease him about it once their shift was over.

“Worked a case together down in Texas. Cartel business,” Y/N explained without taking her eyes off the Sheriff. It was as if the others in the small office didn’t even exist.

“Yup, Special Agent Y/L/N is one of the best in the narcotics game,” Beau added.

“Major Crimes now, actually,” Y/N corrected him.

“Look at you!” Beau nodded, impressed, sending her a smile before he turned to his two subordinates. “Guys, how about you let me catch up with Agent Y/L/N, see if we need the FBI’s help with this one, alright?”

“Sure, boss,” Jenny said and shot him a knowing smirk. The blonde then grabbed a confused Poppernak and dragged him out of the office, closing the door behind them.

“Good to see you, Y/N,” Beau said with a warm smile as soon as the two of them were alone.

“You, too, Arlen. That Sheriff title suits you,” she replied flirtatiously. “So, you’re back with the ex?”

“Why are you asking?” he fired back immediately.

Y/N shrugged innocently. “Just assumed since you moved up here.”

“Nah, just did that for the kid,” he explained and could’ve sworn she looked relieved. “What about you? Still seeing that spunky DA?”

“Ted?” Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “God, no. Dumped that guy months ago.”

“Good, I never liked that guy,” Beau admitted with a small smile that probably gave away too much. But if Y/N caught it, she surely didn’t care.

“Yeah, I never liked your bitch of an ex-wife either,” Y/N said bluntly and grinned at him unapologetically.

“Still got a mouth on you, huh?” Beau’s gaze wandered down her body, feeling his dick harden and strain his pants. Her hips, ass, and thighs were clad in tight denim, her breasts close to spilling out of her white blouse and bra as he bit back a lustful smirk.

“You betcha. You always loved that about me,” Y/N retorted, wiggling her eyebrows. Stalking closer to him, she stopped directly in front of him, so close their breaths mingled as her fingers played with the collar of his shirt. Chewing seductively on her lower lip, she asked, “Still into living and loving dangerously?”

Beau didn’t respond to that question. Instead, he grabbed her and pulled her closer in one swift motion, crashing his lips against hers and sliding his tongue inside her mouth.

“Lock the door,” he ordered her in a deep growl, the need for her painfully pushing against his zipper.

With the door locked, Y/N was back in his arms only seconds later. He devoured her mouth, tasted every drop of her as she moaned and palmed his rock-hard cock through the fabric.

“God, I forget every time how fucking big you are,” Y/N breathed devilishly into his ear and unbuckeled his belt.

“Shit,” Beau panted as her hand crawled inside his boxers.

Not a minute later, she was on her knees in front of him, his pants and underwear pooling around his cowboy boots and his hands caught in her hair, guiding her where he wanted her the most. As her amble lips finally enveloped his thick length, he almost blew his load right then and there. She giggled at his restraint and taunted him even further by brushing her tongue along his throbbing cock, her hand cupping and rolling his balls just the way he liked it.

Goddamn, he had forgotten how good she was at this and how much he truly had missed it.

He decided right there he wouldn’t let another opportunity pass him by. There had been too many over the years, and he knew, soon enough, there would be none left. Y/N was a catch, and he needed to be the guy who caught her before someone else – someone like fucking Ted – got to it.

“Fuck, darlin', don’t stop,” he groaned and closed his eyes as her lips sucked his dick empty.

But Y/N would’ve never dared to stop, loving the way the Sheriff jittered above her and fought tooth and nail to hold out for as long as possible. She loved how much control she had over him, how he bit his lower lip almost bloody, and how his knuckles turned white around the edge of the desk.

“If I let you come down my throat, are you gonna let me in on the case?” Y/N asked and looked up at him, her tongue mischievously teasing his swollen and leaking tip as their gazes met.

“Fuck, yeah…” Beau grunted, having a hard time getting the words out as his nerve endings were electrified. “Already made that decision when you strolled in here, sweetheart.”

“Really?” Surprised, Y/N raised a brow at him, her lips molding around his cockhead before she teasingly retreated again, repeating the torturous action a few more times.

“Shit, yeah… I want you to stay this time,” Beau pressed out through his teeth and harshly squinted his eyes closed.

“Alright,” Y/N replied nonchalantly and smirked up at him. “Thought you’d never ask, Sheriff.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Beau exclaimed louder than he wanted to when her head bobbed up and down his aching length with vigor.

A few more strokes of her sinful tongue, and he spilled hot white ropes of cum down her throat and pantingly watched her swallow every last drop.

Still catching his breath, he helped her back onto her feet like the gentleman he was before the supposedly locked door suddenly burst wide open and a shocked Poppernak blinked at him with even wider eyes, not knowing where to look.

“Uh, sorry, sir! I thought you called!”

Sheriff Arlen then turned the deepest shade of red of his life, this time even visible through his thick beard, hearing Y/N’s amused laugh reverberate in his ringing ears. He was literally caught with his pants down.

And now, Beau was certain he’d never hear the end of it from his deputy.

Hope you enjoyed this one, ladies ✌️

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @akshi8278 @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373

#dirty drabbles #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen x you #beau arlen smut #big sky #big sky fanfic #beau arlen fanfic #beau arlen #jensen ackles

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54625 · 4 months

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With the upcoming Fit lore later today, I figured it may be useful to transcribe his earlier lore drops for those of you who may not have been there, or want a refresher. These were attempts to contact the contractor to relay information, and happened before the dreams.

-First attempt-

(Text appears on screen.

CONNECTING...

BYPASSING FEDERATION FIREWALL

ATTEMPT FAILED

ERROR)

Fit- Hello, it's me.

Fit- Sorry I've been taking my sweet time.

Fit- I've been busy...

Fit- We need to pivot from our original plan.

Fit- I've adopted a son, and I've been caring for him.

Fit- I've grown attached to him, so he's been my priority.

Fit- Being a single dad is a challenge at times.

Fit- But it's much easier than the nomadic lifestyle.

Fit- Life here is very different from the wasteland.

Fit- But I haven't forgotten our agreement.

Fit- I will fullfil my contractual obligations.

Fit- They're still falling for the whole "vacation" thing.

Fit- I ask that you be patient though, as we have a problem.

Fit- Something called "The Federation" controls this entire island.

Fit- They've been keeping us here.

Fit- As long as they are in the way, I can't access what you are looking for.

Fit- And the anti-cheat on the island is strong.

Fit- I haven't been able to use my abilities.

Fit- The Federation must be eliminated for this to succeed.

Fit- I've gained everyone's trust and made friends...

Fit- I've been helping their fight against the Federation in order to advance our plan.

Fit- Still... It hurts me to see everyone suffering...

Fit- Some have lost things they cared about...

Fit- But this struggle is an unfortunate necessity...

Fit- The conflict is increasing the value of what you seek...

Fit- I know you're paying me...

Fit- But have you considered......

...the true cost?

Fit- regardless of my personal feelings, I'll slowly move the plan forward.

Fit- I hope you find what you're looking for.*

Fit- It's getting late...*

MESSAGE FAILED TO SEND

Disconnecting....

*(it is worth noting that these are messages Fit had previously sent in the Minecraft global chat in that odd font.)

-Second attempt-

(Text appears on screen.

CONNECTING...

BYPASSING FEDERATION FIREWALL)

Fit- Checking in.

Fit- I am messaging you again to keep you updated on my progress.

Fit- The Federation still has full control of the island.

Fit- They've been putting on some strange election....

Fit- I'm assuming to keep everyone occupied.

Fit- However, it seems they've let a vulnerability slip.

Fit- Player data and statistics are being tracked.

Fit- The Federation must have this data stored somewhere on the island.

Fit- If I had to guess, it's likely the computer system of the Federation offices.

Fit- If I tried to break in and access the data, they would likely capture me...

Fit- It would not end well.

Fit- However, whoever wins this election will likely have open access.

Fit- Perhaps they could be persuaded... Or tricked into giving us access.

Fit- I will fullfil the contract.

Fit- And yet... I'm starting to wonder....

Fit- What are you actually trying to achieve?

Fit- Even if I can access the data, what good would it do?

Fit- I'm skeptical, but I hope to hear from you soon........

(This island...... Is worse than I thought....)

(Text appears on screen.

Windows XP

Task failed successfully.

[OK] )

(A cinematic showing various scenes from QSMP and 2B2T play. All the images from the former are in full colour, while all the images from the latter are in black and white. A video of a capybara eating grass plays. It is in black and white.)

If I left anything particularly important out, let me know!

#qsmp #qsmp fitmc #fitmc #qsmp ramon #qsmp fit #qsmp lore

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cloudcountry · 4 months

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i have too many mutuals to tag so yk. i cant tag all of you guys, all i can do is hope that you all see this and know how much i care about you.

when i arrived here on tumblr i wasn't expecting much, it seemed to me like everyone had their friend groups already, and i felt like the odd one out. even though i spent those first few days posting my writing and figuring out how to format things, i still felt like an outsider looking in. it didn't feel like i was really participating.

and honestly, i'm not sure when it started. i'm not sure when being here began to feel like a home away from home, like a space on the internet that was my own and that i could shape however i wanted. i'm not sure when it occurred to me that you guys had a hand in shaping it, too. you showed me the characters you loved and the things that reminded you of me, you placed them on my blog like paintings in a museum, for me to look back on whenever the nostalgic urge hit me. you actively tried to get to know me and form connections with me, even if i scared some of you (which im 100% certain i did.) thank you for taking courage to talk to me, i'm thankful for all of you.

there was a point when i was scared too. it was really hard for me to reach out to people myself but i ended up doing so anyway. (raptor, rinna, and sippy, thank you for welcoming me so warmly. i haven't forgotten it.) i know my blog blew up really quickly, given how much content i was posting at the time, but at the end of the day i still don't like thinking of myself as someone famous or a super recognizable blog in the twst fandom. because at the end of the day, i was just someone doing what they loved.

i'm glad i was given the opportunity to start writing when i was young. i'm glad i kept at it, and i'm glad i shared so many stories with my friends on the playground. i'm glad i honed my writing all throughout school, and i'm glad i still practice today. because if i hadn't picked up the pencil to write that first fanfiction of mine, none of this ever would have happened. and i hated writing as a child, so that could have happened. there's probably another timeline where that did, but we aren't here to talk about that hypothetical auburn.

we're here to talk about me and you guys, because you've given me the precious gift of your time. you've invited me into your lives and let me be a part of them, even if it is only through the screen. you've thought about me while going about your day, and i have thought about all of you. we are connected, in this universe where there was every possibility that we never would have met, and i think that's beautiful. i will forever be grateful that my love for writing can make people smile, that it can make them laugh and cry and scream. i will forever be grateful for the gift to make others feel, and for you all for sharing that with me.

thank you. even if you aren't a mutual, your support has touched me. thank you for reading what i create, thank you for commenting your thoughts, thank you for talking to me and engaging in the fandom community. i hope every single one of you has a wonderful 2024, and that we can make each other happier and keep pushing towards our individual goals with each passing day.

#auburn's rambles <3 #if there's any typos please ignore them i word vomited #i got. a little emotional my chest feels tight HELPPP #i dont know if i conveyed how i feel well enough but #i'm so lucky to be able to write and share that with others. so so lucky.#im so lucky to be in a position where i can help people with my stories #happy new year you guys. <3

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atomicengineerdetective · 1 year

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THIS SCENE

Warning: Spoilers and a LOT of feelings

Okay, I know I've been talking about pokemon a lot more than usual today But I HAVE to mention this Whole scene because it's just SO good (I think maybe one of the best). It made me so emotional and reminded me of why I love the franchise

First How it STARTS

A Silent battlefield where all you can hear is pikachu's Labored Breathing. You know He is tired and he probably won't win this one. Everything about this part is Intense. Then, The camera pans To everyone looking just as worried for pikachu.

And when I say Everyone I mean EVERY SINGLE PERSON Ash and Him met during Their adventure.

Everyone is here to support them. From Misty and Brock their very first friends, To Goh Who is in the middle of a mission! (okay, it was obvious that Goh Would be watching Ash Compete but still).

Regardless of their relevance in the story or how long it's been since we've seen them on screen Everyone is here watching Because they all care about Pikachu and Ash So much. It's touching end even in such a tense moment, having all of them here gives you a feeling of hope.

And then pikachu falls. And you Hear ash's VOICE as the screen goes dark.

My chest hurt and I honestly thought that Was it you know? Just another Loss that Ash and Pikachu Would take and learn from.

But then, you see THEM. The OG team. Ash's First Companions, Pikachu's First Friends EVER.

THIS is where I cried. Seeing all 6 of them together like old times. Surrounding pikachu with warm smiles it genuinely Brought tears to my eyes.

And it Wasn't JUST them But ALL of Ash's pokemon

And This is where I BAWLED. Just seeing them made me emotional. Each of them reminding me of so many good memories of amazing moments I witnessed over the years. BUT in this context it hits even harder.

In his Toughest Moments Pikachu is thinking back to them, HIS FAMILY. each and everyone of them there, present, supporting him and cheering him on. He KNOWS that even though they are not ther physically they are with him in spirit and they believe in him. And Ultimately THAT's what Gives him the strength to stand Back up

AND THEN COMES ASH, HIS TRAINER, THE PERSON THAT'S BEEN BY HIS SIDE ALL HIS LIFE

And he says the words that I think best describe why this scene is so powerful

"Everyone's at our side" and That's it isn't it? That's the beauty of this scene and pokemon as a whole. The bonds you make.

Pokemon as a Whole is no stranger to showing the importance of Connections and friendships, and this scene in particular demonstrates it beautifly. It shows a bond so strong that keeps you standing in your toughest moments (Interestingly you can also see it in the games throught the affection stat "Your pokemon Though it out because it didn't want to make you sad" I cry everytime).

This scene shows multiple bonds between friends that surpasses the test of time. Friends that even though they are miles apart and havent seen each other in years havent forgotten each other. Every character pokemon and Human is there. They haven't forgotten Ash and Pikachu. And Ash and pikachu still remember them too. Ash even mentions IN the fight How This Victory Is thanjs to all the lessons He learned and all the pokemon He trained. All the bonds He made

Its truly so wonderful to see How Everyone came back at some point and How when they did, It was as if they never left. Thanks To scenes like this The show and the franchise Feels so homey and warm. THIS is what Honestly Keeps me coming Back to it. Hell, look at me, I've been a fan since I was 12 and I am still Here enjoying the show and its all because of moments like this

What a great anniversary indeed

#pokeani #anipoke #pokeani spoilers #Anipoke spoilers #Spoilers JN #pokemon Journeys #pokemon #pikachu #Ash Ketchum #pokemon Journeys 132 #JN132

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ineffableinnkeepers · 2 months

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so in an effort to cheer me up, my sister gave chatGPT a prompt which resulted in the following ineffable husbands x reader imagine. spoiler alert it’s so OOC but made me sob with LAUGHTER.

The winter wind bit through London, nipping at Jess's nose as she hurried down Baker Street. She clutched the bag holding her latest find – a rare first edition of Milton's Paradise Lost – closer, wishing she hadn't forgotten her gloves. As she rounded a corner, she nearly bumped into a tall figure shrouded in black.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry!" she exclaimed, startled.

The figure chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate in her chest. "No harm done, dear mortal. Though I must say, you nearly startled the devil himself right out of his skin."

A glint of amusement lit up his crimson eyes as he removed his sunglasses, revealing a handsome face with a playful smirk. Beside him stood another man, his silver hair perfectly coiffed even under a beanie, a flustered expression on his face.

"Crowley, must you tease?" scolded the silver-haired man, his voice like warm honey. "And you haven't introduced yourself, dear."

"Forgive my lapse," the first man said, extending a hand towards Jess. "Crowley, at your service, though please, call me Crawly today. And this fine fellow here," he gestured towards the other man, "is Aziraphale."

Aziraphale smiled warmly, his blue eyes twinkling. "Charmed, I'm sure."

Jess found herself strangely drawn to them both. There was an undeniable connection between them, a comfortable ease that made her feel instantly at ease in the biting cold.

"I'm Jess," she replied, shaking both their hands. "I was just heading home after finding a wonderful book."

Curiosity sparked in their eyes. "What might this magnificent tome be?" asked Aziraphale, his voice filled with genuine interest.

Jess proudly showed them the Milton, explaining its significance and rarity. To her surprise, they both gasped in genuine awe.

"Good heavens," murmured Aziraphale, his fingers tracing the worn leather cover. "A true treasure!"

Suddenly, Crowley shivered, rubbing his hands together. "Dreadful weather for an angel, wouldn't you say?"

Aziraphale's cheeks flushed slightly. "Indeed," he agreed. "Perhaps... a warm beverage would be in order?"

Jess's heart leaped. Her flat was just above the bookshop, and the thought of sharing the evening with these fascinating strangers was irresistible. "I just happen to have the makings for some hot chocolate," she offered, a hopeful smile spreading across her face.

They both grinned, accepting her invitation with enthusiasm. Soon, the three of them were nestled in Jess's cozy flat, sipping steaming mugs and discussing everything from ancient literature to the merits of different chocolate brands. The conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and comfortable silences.

Aziraphale regaled them with stories of his time amongst humans, while Crowley offered witty retorts and playful jabs. Jess found herself captivated by their dynamic, the unspoken affection simmering between them as clear as the steam from their drinks.

As the fire crackled and the night deepened, Jess watched them steal glances and share knowing smiles. It was clear their affection transcended labels, a love story unique and timeless like the book they had admired together.

Finally, it was time for her guests to leave. Standing at the door, Jess felt a pang of sadness. This unexpected encounter had warmed her more than any hot chocolate ever could.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," she said, her voice sincere.

Aziraphale bowed slightly. "The pleasure was ours, dear Jess. And do remember," he added, his gaze lingering on hers, "books are just the start of great adventures."

Crowley winked, his smirk playful yet genuine. "Perhaps we shall continue this adventure another time, mortal."

Before leaving, he leaned in and whispered, "And keep an eye on that Milton. He tends to get into mischief."

Jess chuckled, warmth spreading through her chest. As she watched them disappear into the night, she knew this wouldn't be the last chapter in their unique and heartwarming story. And perhaps, somewhere in the future, her own path would intertwine with theirs once more, creating a chapter all its own.

#anthony j crowley #good omens #aziraphale #a z fell #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands x reader

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humanitieswalkingredflag · 3 months

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homecoming part 1 - h. potter

notes: finally getting back to writing <3 requests are back open, of course, will get to them in due time. honestly i'm a bit burnt out and i hope creativity will get my energy back up again. here's something with our favorite gryffindor!! tags: they're just friends in this [but not for long], homecoming, harry potter x reader, muggle!reader, sixth-year harry, very long exposition at the start, feel free to skip that, mention of growing one's hair, reader goes to a british boarding school w. uniform, word count: 1.1k

Harry Potter. Your childhood bestfriend. The two of you had met at his first year at St. Grogory's primary school, where he'd shown up shuffling behind a large boy with an ugly disposition, in too-big rags, and taped up glasses. You'd been popular enough. A pretty girl, happy and easy to talk to. Your parents loved you, your teachers adored you, you never caused trouble.

But when you saw Harry Potter, something clicked in you and persuaded you to go up to him, say hello. So you did.

The two of you hit it off wonderfully. Everyone wondered, because of course they did, how you could be friends with the boy with the too-big rags, and the taped up glasses. With the boy who turned his teachers' hair blue, or made things disappear, or suddenly showed up on the roof.

If there was one thing you didn't do, it was care.

Over the years, the two of you grew tighter and tighter. He was your best friend, you were his, and although Petunia and Vernon hated you with all their might, your parents absolutely adored Harry, and frequently invited him for dinner and the like.

Everything changed the summer of year 6. One day you were spending time with Harry like you always did, and the next, his insane aunt and uncle had moved him and dudley away to the countryside, to a lighthouse on the roudy ocean, utterly untouched by civilization.

You recieved no word from him for the rest of the summer. You worried terribly of course. What if his aunt and uncle had finally snapped? Thrown him into the ocean? Left him on the side of the road? Your 11 year old mind conjured up terrible things, all of which could have been happening to your friend at that very moment.

Your fears only grew worse when you walked into St. Grogory's that year, only to find that Harry wasn't there. You sent letter after letter to him, but recieved no reply. The Dursleys neglected to answer any questions about his whereabouts.

It was at this point that your parents broke the news to you that they were going to send you to boarding school in the country, so as to further your education. Without Harry to hold you back, you went without a fuss, and that is where you spent the next six years.

SIX YEARS LATER - PRESENT DAY

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you consider whether or not you should knock on the door of the Dursleys and congratulate them for Vernon's promotion like your mother asks that you do. For that, you'd have to take the tube from your home in London to king's cross, then the train down to Little Whinging. It would be a hassle, but maybe you'd be able to ask about harry.

You haven't forgotten him. Of course you haven't. God, it's tough and embarassing to admit, but he was your best friend, and perhaps the best friend you've ever had, because you've yet to find someone anywhere close to him at your current school. The girls are plenty nice, the boys are plenty fanciable, but you lack the connection with them that you did with Harry. Its not an open wound anymore, you're sixteen, you've gotten over it, but you remember, of course. And you still miss the friendship.

You sigh, fiddling with your school uniform, and elect to change into something else. If you're going to go, you might as well be comfortable.

The tube to King's Cross from your neighbourhood takes twenty minutes, and you pass the time on it by listening to music and working on your homework. It's at Victoria, about halfway through your journey, that someone sits beside you. You move your books slightly to accomadate the man, and when you look up, you're struck with an uncanny sense of deja vu.

You take one airpod out, "Do I know you?"

He laughs, not looking at you, and says: "You know, I get that a lot."

"Sorry," you pause, looking at him. His hair's swept over his forehead, but he brushes it out of his face as he glances at you, and recognition sweeps over you at the sight of the scar on his forehead.

"Oh my goodness," you pause, "It's you!"

His eyes narrow as he looks at you, but then something seems to click and he gives you a beaming smile.

"Harry Potter. God, it's been a while," you grin from ear to ear, overjoyed. You want to hug him, but as you look him up and down, you can hardly recognize the scraggly boy you once knew. He's fulled out, grown. He looks athletic, intelligent, most of all: grown up. Independent.

"You've grown up," he says, looking at you, "I barely recognized you."

You pause, thinking of something to say then muster up a dull: "I grew my hair."

"I can see that," he laughs.

"I... I really missed you. I mean, where did you go?" There, you asked it. Maybe the incessant pressure on your chest, begging you to say something, has a role to play in that.

"Boarding school," the words slip off of his tongue, a lie. You can't tell.

"Oh my god, me too! Where?"

"Scotland," he pauses, then adds: "Its a bit secretive. Private school and all that."

"Did the Dursleys really pay for that?" You ask, furrowing your brows.

He shakes his head, "No. Uh... my parents did. It was in their will I go there, I mean, they attended too."

A soft smile falls over your lips and you nod, "That's... sweet."

The two of you chat for the entire way to King's Cross, at what point it occurs to you that going to the Dursleys makes little to no sense.

"Could you uh, pass on a message. To your aunt and uncle?" He nods, and you smile, "Thanks. My parents just want to congratulate them on your uncle's new promotion. I mean my dad and him work together now, so..."

"Will do," he pauses, and something like apprehension flows over his features for a moment before he pushes out: "Can I get your number? Maybe we can meet up for coffee at some point."

"Oh, sure," you type it into his held out phone, "I'm free anytime."

"Really?"

"No boyfriend, no friends that live here, so..."

"That's great," Harry says, then realizing his mistake amends, "Well, not great, but..."

"I get what you mean."

You smile, and he smiles, and you remember what its like to be friends with someone like this, to really be tight.

"Text me," you say, as you get into the tube.

"I will," he replies, and you think you're finally happy again.

#harry potter x reader #gryffindor x reader #hp x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter #friends to lovers #homecoming #muggle reader

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parmmykitty · 4 months

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Just so yall know our man isn't gonna have that much change in the end. He's still going to be regular Wesker, but with a s/o that he celebrates Christmas with. The ghosts are good but they ain't miracle workers.

The R.P.D. Christmas Carol pt.2

Scrooge!Wesker x Secretary!Reader

The Birkins were dead to begin with. Dead as a doornail. A freak accident in Nest leaving the couple decomposing six feet under and Sherry to live with her grandparents. With the death of his partners that had helped create the T-virus with him; Wesker was forced to finish the project on his own in his spare time.

Wesker's drive back to his house couldn't be described as interesting. Not even the radio was playing anything with their constant Christmas music that it seemed every station played. The quiet didn't bother Wesker in the slightest and even allowed his migraine to abate the slightest bit. Truly, all he wanted to do was go home to have this dreadful day over with.

The thought that his own secretary who was usually in tuned with his mood had chosen to worsen his day weighed on his mind. The two had been friends since his time in the Army. Their friendship being the driving force of their employment as his secretary.

Pulling into his driveway and turning off the engine Wesker got out of the car. The cold winter air which often felt uninviting to him on a good day had a cruel feel to it. Feeling as if it hoped he would succumb to the cold before he made it into his home. His front stairs were covered in snow and ice making a small hazard.

As he reached the top of his stairs and reached to put his key into the lock the wood grains on the door twisted and turned into the vague image of a face. When he reached his hand forward to feel the grains against his fingers the face came to life and lurched at him, "WESKER!" Immediately he pulled his hand back and took a step back. His foot connected with nothing and his whole body fell backwards. In panick he grabbed the handrail to stop his fall.

Calming he steadied himself back on the stairs. He then wearily continued to open his door and quickly went inside.

To say Wesker wasn't startled by the odd occurrence at his front door would be a lie. The sheer shock of a strange apparition coming out of his door making his heart race. The sream that came from his door was loud enough to be heard for miles, but not a soul came out to investigate. He chose then to assume the stress of his long days at work were to blame and put the whole ordeal behind him.

Entering his home and taking off his coat at the front door revealed a chill to the air in the room. The room was pitch back as usual with the heat on low. The uncomfortable feeling followed him as he went to relax upstairs in the living room. Settling down Wesker got comfortable in front of his fireplace with a research report he had to read before he went to bed for the night.

Suddenly the fire went out in one fell sweep and the few lights he had bothered to turn on gave a pop and faded out. A faint strange sound came from down the stairs with what sounded to be groaning. Wesker stood up as fast as he could and reached for the gun which had rested in his holster. The groaning grew closer along with the other sound which seemed to be heavy chains dragging across the hardwood. A eerie light grew with the increasing proximity of the sounds revealing that whatever the sounds are coming from was coming right towards him. Over the railings to the staircase arose the ghostly form of a person that appeared to be wrapped in the heavy chains.

"Well if it isn't Albert, my old friend," the ghost groaned out the best it could.

"Who are you?" Wesker said firmly before aiming his gun.

"Forgotten me already have you? Though, I guess you haven't expected to see your old research partner ever again."

The ghost hovered up the stairs without touching the ground. "Are you supposed to be Birkin?" Wesker asked.

"Of course."

"And what are you doing here in my house instead of your home with your neighbors, the Worms?" Wesker lowered his gun; still wary but not feeling inherently threatened.

The ghost let out a pathetic laugh before becoming serious, "To warn you, Albert. To warn you away from my own fate."

"And what, pray tell, are you to warn me about, Birkin?"

The doubt in Wesker's voice seemed to anger the ghost, "To warn you about the chains that await you in death!" The ghost lifted its arm revealing more chains than when it first appeared. "These chains that I forged through my evil actions in life! The same chains that are a mere fraction of the ones you have accrued through your own actions!"

The chains around the ghost dragged across the floor as he approached Wesker. The weight of them forming slight scratches on the polished floor.

"And why should I believe you. I doubt you're even real. You could be a hallucination from overworking or even some food poisoning I could have gotten. Yes, there's more gravy than a grave about you, old friend."

The ghost laughed wholeheartedly once again, "You always chose the strangest times to make puns; however, if you don't heed my warning you will become even worse than me. I died before my chains could grow longer, but you, Albert, have all the time you can spare to grow yours. From how you've treated test subjects to causing pain to those around you." The chains around him grew and grew drawing the ghost to the ground under the pressure. "Your own chains are eager to meet you!" Quickly chains emerged from Birkin's own and wrapped around Wesker. The chains forced him to fall to a knee and they pulled him down. Birkin was no better as he could barely be seen other than his face with the cluster of chains around him. "These are only the chains you have forged so far! The only way to escape them is to change!"

Another noise came from below the staircase and Birkin was pulled across the ground. He clawed at the floor and he continued to speak, "Expect the first ghost at one o'clock, Albert! Except their help! Or face the forges in hell!" The shackles and chains around Wesker got pulled away with Birkin and slowly the two were pulled out of his sight.

The fireplace flickered back to life along with the lightbulbs. The soft light that now resonated in the room brought a type of peace from the ghost that had just plagued him. He slowed got back to his feet and leaned against his chair.

"I must be hallucinating. It's impossible for Birkin to have been here. He's dead and has been for years."

Wesker chose to go to bed then in hopes of recovering his sanity. The happenings of the day weighing on him. No ghosts would be coming to his home tonight, nor would he talk to another one.

~~~~~~

@aoi-targaryen (if anyone else wants tagged lmk)

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #wesker x reader

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scifrey · 1 year

Text

Cling Fast: Prologue

Read below, or read the updated/edited version over on AO3.

by Loysark

The Sandman (Netflix with some sprinkling of comics canon and Gaimanverse)

Dreamling (Hob Gadling x Dream of the Endless | Morpheus)

Unfinished

PG-13 (for now)

Unbeta'd

Hob Gadling is a clingy bastard, and he's not ashamed to admit it. He clings to life. He clings to hope. He clings to his love of humanity. He clings to his Stranger. He also, unfortunately, has a habit of clinging to his name.

Which means, when the BBC is looking for a new pet history expert to appear in their educational docudrama series "Elizabethan Manor," they're overjoyed to find a professor of domestic history who, according to their meticulous research, is actually descended from the Master of the National Trust building they're filming in - Gadlen House.

Only Hob knows how right they are.

Picks up a few hours after the end of Episode 6.

Author's Note: I don't know what I'm doing. New to this fandom, new to this ship, and this is the first fanfic I've written in over a year. I am just coming back from a creative burnout so bad that I ended up leaving my literary agent. I haven't written anything that isn't loosely connected drabbles in literally years. So, I don't know what's going to happen with this fic. It may get written, it may fizzle. I have the idea plotted out, but I'm trying to approach it cautiously, with my eyes averted, in case it spooks and bolts.

That's why I'm posting this here instead of AO3, I guess. I want to see if it's something that resonates with people, and me, before I commit to posting it there.

"One hundred years, then?" Hob's Stranger asks, hours later, when Hob's talked himself hoarse and his business partner is flipping chairs onto tables to mop. Hob's marking has been jammed unceremoniously into his briefcase and completely forgotten, and there are three empty pint glasses at his elbow. The wine glass in front of his Stranger is still full.

"2089 or 2122?" Hob asks, through disappointment like broken glass on his tongue. Hob's stomach sinks when his Stranger rises from his chair.

Hob's Stranger seems to mull this over. "'89," he says at length. "I believe it is customary for friends to meet more frequently than a century."

"Then why wait even that long?" Hob asks, both startled and completely unsurprised with how desperate he sounds. "Or is that some sort of… of supernatural law? That the terms of our bargain have to be adhered to and we can't… I don't know," he confesses helplessly. "Renegotiate?"

Helpless.

Yes, that's how he feels.

Helpless and desperate for his Stranger to stay, to not abandon him again, to not leave Hob wondering if he may miss another meeting on a whim. If his Stranger was getting tired of playing with his little mortal toy and Hob would be left to eternity with no friend, no through-line, no continuity, no foundation—

Unavoidably detained, what does that even mean? Hob thinks viciously, brain spinning in circles between despair and hurt, elation and greed. Is it an excuse? Did he even want to—

His Stranger frowns, a fearsome, dark expression that Hob's never seen on the man's face before. Hob flinches when his Stranger makes an abrupt flicking motion at Hob's shoulders, as if shooing off a housefly. All at once Hob's breathing eases, the panic and surging loneliness retreating.

"What?" Hob asks weakly, when he realizes that… that somehow that single gesture from his Stranger has banished decades worth of crushing loneliness and anxiety. Hob had grown so used to bearing the ever-grinding worry that he'd forgotten what it felt like to be without it.

"A waking nightmare," his Stranger says. "And a bold one, too, to cling to you so persistently in the face of its king's displeasure."

King.

Well.

Hob had always figured that his Stranger had to be some sort of nobility. It was in the way he dressed at the peak of fashion each century, the softness of his skin and hands, the cleanliness of his hair, the way he spoke and held himself as if he'd never been denied anything his entire life. And the giant ruby of course, which, Hob had noticed a few hours ago, was nowhere to be seen this time around.

But a King.

"My friend," Hob whispers, mindful of the staff closing the New Inn around them. He swallows hard enough that his throat clicks. "Forgive my boldness, but… what are you? Who are you?"

"It… it is not important," his Stranger hedges, hesitating for the first time since Hob's known him.

That's unusual.

That's a crack Hob can get his fingers into.

"It is, though," Hob says, rising to his own feet. He dares to reach out, to pinch the fabric of his Stranger's coat cuff between his fingers in an old-fashioned, petitioning plea. The way you would kiss a queen's hem, or a king's ring, Hob pinches the cuff and hopes his Stranger understands. "It is to me. You are important to me."

"Hob," his Stranger says, but it's not a rebuke or a dismissal. It sounds awed, and humbled. Mercury shimmers along his bottom lashes, mouth pulled tight, a display of emotion that Hob never thought to garner from his Stranger, and not one he's sure he knows how to read, just yet.

What has him so upset?

"When you didn't come, I waited," Hob whispers, daring to press closer, so the words are little more than a puff of air between them. "I waited hours. Days. I returned every day for weeks. Where were you?"

"Rest assured, I did not want to miss our appointment."

"Then why?" The Stranger hesitates again. "Please. Please, if you're really my friend, please don't…" Hob trails off, not sure what he's really trying to say here. Don't shut me out. Don't treat me like a servant who only needs to do as he's told. Don't run away from me all the time. "Please don't go without telling me how to reach you, at least. I couldn't bare it if you…"

Without his meaning it, Hob's grip on his Stranger's cuff slips, and his fingers brush the cool, smooth back of his Stranger's hand. The Stranger hisses as if he's been burned.

"Sorry, sorry," Hob says, jerking his hand away. "I'm—"

"That is the first kind touch I've had in…" his Stranger's eyes drop to where their hands meet. Slowly, he reaches out with one shaking finger to stroke it along Hob's knuckles.

Understanding and rage flash through Hob like a lightning strike. The little hints that his Stranger probably hadn't realized he was even dropping come together, all at once, into a horrible picture.

You can be hurt. Or captured.

Hob seizes his Stranger's hand in his own, enraged further when his Stranger gasps, cheeks flushing pink and lips parting in a soft 'oh' that might have sounded lewd if it wasn't so obviously overwhelmed.

"Who did this to you?" Hob growls, low and dangerous. "Where are they now? I'm going to kill them for—"

The Stranger jerks his head up so fast that one of the quicksilver tears shakes free and rolls down his gaunt cheek.

"Hob," his Stranger chokes, and Hob is sure he would have said more, maybe even leaned closer, except that Dennis at the bar shouts:

"Fuck's sake, Gadlen. Take your booty call upstairs. I wanna close!"

"Sorry!" Hob calls back, leaning to the side and modulating his volume so he doesn't shout in his Stranger's ear. "Sorry Dennis, right. We're going."

Hob tugs on his Stranger's hand, and is absurdly grateful when the man allows himself to be led toward the back of the bar. Hob snags his briefcase from the banquette as they pass, and heads straight for the door marked "Staff Only." He punches in the keycode and within a few quick moments, he's gently pulling his stranger over the threshold and into his flat.

"You live above the pub?" his Stranger asks, looking around with curiosity as Hob toes off his shoes and drops his briefcase by the door. The Stranger has neither released his hand, nor wiped the moisture from his own face. When Hob looks down to see if his Stranger has taken his boots off, Hob is startled to be met with a pair of bare, moon-pale and delicately arched bare feet.

Okay.

Well.

Hob knew he wasn't human.

Apparently that includes vanishing clothing at will. Which probably means making it, too. Which definitely explains why his Stranger has always been in the pits of fashion.

Absolutely 100% not a Vampire, Hob adds to his mental List Of Things I Know About The Stranger. It's a very short list.

"Live above it, own it, built it," Hob says, pulling his Stranger gently into the living room and toward the sofa. "When I heard they were going to tear down the White Horse, I did some financial juggling, dug up a few treasure caches, and bought it. The building, the land… I mean, really, the whole area. I own most of this side of the river, all the green bits at least. I couldn't stand the thought of losing all the parks and the trees and… I wanted to save the White Horse itself, but the… well, the restoration is tricky. Time-consuming and costly. Cheaper to knock it down and start over but…" he shrugs as he encourages his Stranger to sit. "I'm not into bulldozing the past because it's cost efficient. Is it okay if I let go of your hand?"

His Stranger looks down at their entwined fingers and blinks as if he hadn't realized he was still holding onto Hob. "My apologies," he says softly, and lets go.

"Don't apologize," Hob says, even as he retrieves his arm. Touch starved, his brain screams, adding it to the list of sins that his Stranger's… captors must have perpetrated. "I'm making tea. Do you drink tea?"

"I could… I could drink tea, yes," his Stranger ventures, as if he's unsure if he actually can.

"I'll be right back."

You can still be hurt. Or captured, his Stranger in his memory says again, and Hob waits until he's turned away and headed to the kitchen before he lets his face transform into a scowl.

Behind him on the sofa, the real-life Stranger makes a wounded little noise, as if he'd heard the memory.

As he fills and sets the kettle to boil, Hob tries to dissipate the frisson of tenseness hanging between them with nonsense.

"The National Trust is both amazing and a huge pain in my arse," he laughs, but it sounds strained even to him. "It's half the reason I'm a history professor now. I wanted to preserve the White Horse right, you know? I spent so much time in historical architecture lectures, buried up to my eyebrows in library books and research grants and… well, when it came time to establish this identity I thought, why not? Fudged up an undergrad degree in Medieval History, breezed into University of York for a Masters and spent it focussing on the lives of the common folk, you know, hearth and home kind of archeology. Wattle-and-daub construction, wooden nails and cooking fires, sellswords and home remedies, the beautiful mundanity of the everyday. And now here I am. Professor Bob Gadlen, with a PhD in my own bloody life."

The kettle whistles and Hob leaps to pull it off the hob when his Stranger flinches at the sound.

I'm going to stab them through the earhole, Hob snarls to himself. When he tells me who they are, I'm going to—

"Justice has already been delivered, Hob Gadling," his Stranger says softly, as Hob pours the water into a teapot. There's not a lot of modern conveniences that Hob eschews—humanity invented new and exciting things all the time for a reason, and that reason is usually that it's better—but he has never managed to get on board with tea bags. Looseleaf all the way. "And revenge has been, as they say, dished out."

Hob sets up a tray with two mugs, some biscuits, and the teapot under its hand-knitted cozy from the 50s. He's done this so often over the last few hundred years that muscle memory takes over, even as his brain stutters to a fizzy halt as he registers what his Stranger has said.

And what it means.

"Oh," Hob says, setting down the tea tray on his coffee table. He drops into his armchair beside the sofa with a thud. "Uh. Can you... Can you read my mind?"

"Only your daydreams," his Stranger confesses. "And only those on the surface of your thoughts. You dream of doing violence to people who, I assure you, are already dead."

"My daydreams. And my waking nightmares," Hob echoes, feeling like his brain is slogging through molasses. There's a… there's a confession in there, somewhere. A truth that his Stranger is trusting him with, if he could only work it out.

And then he remembers, suddenly, what he had been daydreaming about in 1789 when he'd caught sight of his Stranger's extremely shapely calves in his silk hose, and Dear Lord above. Hob has a sudden and humiliating urge to be swallowed up by the ground. A glance at his Stranger makes it very clear, by the smug little microexpression around his eyes, that his Stranger also remembers Hob's fantasies from that particular evening.

Hell.

"You're a King," Hob says slowly, pouring out a measure of tea for each of them to hide his blush.

"Yes."

Hob dollops milk into his own, and invites his Stranger to doctor his own to his liking with the sugar and milk he'd left on the tray. His Stranger only holds the mug between elegant pale hands, and simply inhales the steam instead.

"A King of… Dreams and Nightmares?" Hob ventures.

"Yes," his Stranger says.

"So you're a, a what… a god?" Hob asks, feeling both giddy and foolish to be saying it out loud. But then, he's been alive for six hundred and seventy-two years. That's a long time. He knows for certain that while his Stranger is not the Devil by his own admission, there are more things that walk the earth than are dreamt of in anyone's philosophies.

Hob scowls at himself for letting Shaxbeard's drivel cross his mind, and hides his pout in his mug.

"No," his Stranger says slowly. "And yes." He pauses.

Hob leans back, and lets his Stranger work through what he's trying to say. His Stranger sips his tea and seems to find it lacking, because he pauses to dump four cubes of sugar into it.

Sweet tooth, Hob files away, right under the entry on the list that says God.

"I am a being beyond gods," his Stranger goes on once he's tasted his tea again and found it satisfactory. "I am older. I am more powerful. I am… simply more. I have existed since the moment the first sentient being closed its eyes and sought its rest, and I will continue to exist until the final one slips away to the Sunless Lands in its sleep. And yet, the version of myself that you see before you was once worshiped as a god."

"That explains a lot," Hob says, redirecting the buzzing adrenaline from his lingering, now futile rage into sarcasm.

The Stranger blinks again, as if unused to being teased. Being a… whatever he is, he probably is.

"Endless," his Stranger corrects. "I am Dream of the Endless. I am…" he gestures in an elegant arc with his free hand. "Limitless. Everywhere. Unchanging and ever present. I am every Dream of every creature, across all of space and time. I am both master of all dreams, and I am the dreams themselves."

"Bit like a TARDIS," Hob says, trying to wrap his head around what his Stranger, Dream of the Endless, is saying.

Dream blinks, head tilting like a corvid, a far-away look in his pale eyes as if he's shuffling through a mental rolodex. His lips curl up into, what is for him, a very wide, expressive grin when he seems to hit on the right entry. His face brightens with mirth.

"Yes, Hob Gadling. I am indeed bigger on the inside."

Hob laughs, if maybe only to contain the slow creep of existential horror. He has some sort of cosmic entity sitting on his squashed, unhygienic sofa that he hasn't cleaned properly since the day he moved in thirty years ago. Yeah. Hob's totally fine.

What's the bigger leap of understanding, anyway? Illiterate peasant sellsword in 1389 to university professor who taught the last two years through Zoom in 2022, or normal boring human with a bit of an Immortality thing to God's teeth there is a celestial creature in my apartment, and he is my friend.

"But that is the… the whole of me," Dream goes on, seemingly amused by Hob's quiet panic. "And the facet that sits before you, this particular anthropomorphic personification, is the one born of a worship and naming on this world, several eras ago."

"Oookaaay…" Hob says slowly, not entirely sure what Dream is getting at.

"Humans create gods," Dream says, filching a biscuit and crunching on it delicately. "Not the other way around."

Even spilling crumbs across his black teeshirt like stardust looks deliberate and elegant when he does it. Hob shoves down a new daydream, as far as it will go. If Dream catches it, he doesn't let on.

"Didn't God create mankind and all the world in seven days, though?" Hob asks, dragging his treacherous brain back on topic.

"In one story," Dream allows. "And in others, Zeus sculpted humanity from clay, and sundered the pieces to create soulmates. In yet another, Skywoman fell through a hole she dug through the world, and landed upon the back of a turtle. There are as many origin stories as there are gods, and there are as many gods as there are humans to imagine them. This—" Deam gestures to himself, and only then seems to see the crumbs on his shirt. He whisks them away with a flick of his wrist. "This embodiment was thought into being by what you would call the Bronze age cultures of the Mediterranean. To them, I was the God of Sleep. I have other names, but the most appropriate and widely remembered in this day and age is Morpheus."

"Morpheus," replies flatly.

"Yes," the creature on the sofa says, preening. "I desire that you call me that, Hob Gadling."

"Not Dream of the Endless?"

"Dream of the Endless is… Dream belongs to all sentient beings, of all kinds, on every planet and plane of existence. That creature has as many names, and faces, and physical embodiments as there are species to sleep. But here, the man who sits before you, whose form and face you know—"

Thank god he said 'know' and not 'desire', Hob thinks frantically.

"--this is Morpheus."

"The God of Sleep," Hob repeats, because is bears repeating.

"And you built me a temple."

"I… what?" Morpheus flicks a look around the room. "The New Inn? No, I built it for you so you could find me." Hob clocks what he just said. Then he thinks about the libations, the singing on karaoke night, the offerings and toasts, the way everyone totters away to pass out after last call. "Fuck me, I built the god of sleep a temple."

"If that unsettles you, you may alternately call me The Prince of Stories. The Shaper of Forms. The King of Nightmares. The Sandman. The—"

"Okay, okay!" Hob laughs. "I ask for one name and I get a hundred. Careful what you wish for, eh?" Hob scratches his fingers through his stubble and heaves a sigh as Morpheus helps himself to another biscuit, munching peevishly. "So if I'm understanding this right, Dream is… is like a diamond. And Morpheus is just one facet. And there are hundreds of facets of you."

"Millions of millions," Morpheus agrees.

"And it's Morpheus I have my agreement with? And my… friendship?"

"Yes, Hob Gadling," Morpheus says fondly. "Though I can assure you that the whole of all I am considers you a friend, not just this facet."

Something in his posture that changes then, something that relaxes a little. Relief, that's what it is. Did he think Hob would be scared of him?

Overwhelmed, maybe. Confused, a little. Intrigued, definitely. Attracted to? Hob's mind shies away from that one. But scared? Never. Except for when he was worried he may have condemned his soul to Hell, Hob has never been frightened of Morpheus. And even that fear was of purgatory itself, not of the man-shaped thing that may end up dragging him there.

"Then it's Morpheus I'd like to… see more of," Hob decides on, tripping over confessing something maybe a little bit too intense for just now, and sidestepping it as politically as possible. "More than once a century. If that's okay."

"Why?"

Hob blanches. "Are you not allowed to? Or… or do you not want to?" Hob asks, wondering if he's completely misunderstood the point of Morpheus' confession.

"I did not say I was opposed to it," Morpheus says gently. "I simply wonder why my company is that which you would… choose."

Hob wonders, in turn, who it was that made Morpheus feel like his company was a burden, as he clearly thinks it is. He carefully does not daydream of doing them any violence. He wants to, though.

"Listen, I…" Hob says, and stops to lick his lips, wet his throat with tea, and choose his words carefully. "Before I explain, I want to make it clear that I don't regret, or rue, or am bitter about this… this gift you've given me."

"My sister gave you," Morpheus corrects him gently.

"Sister?" Hob asks, derailed. "It wasn't you who… made me like this?"

"You and I have but an agreement to meet every hundred years. No more, no less," Morpheus explains. "My sister is the one who granted your request to never die, and traded a boon with our father to ensure you that you and I could keep our appointments."

"Uh. And who is this sister of yours I need to thank, then?" Hob asks.

"The woman who accompanied me at the White Horse that first night, do you recall her?" Hob nods. "She is Death."

"Death," Hob warbles, heart kicking in his chest. "Oh. Okay. Yeah. Makes sense. Death. I called her stupid to her face."

"She thought it charming."

"Fuck. And… your father?"

"Time."

"Time," Hob squeaks. The mug in his hand trembles and Hob sets it down before he sloshes on himself.

Morpheus frowns. "My sister did not think that the terms of the agreement between you and I would be fair if you continued to age, but did not die."

"No, no, makes sense," Hob says, heaving in a breath and trying not to freak out at the idea that Death and Time know who he is, and granted him his greatest wish simply because he was a loudmouth braggart in the right pub, on the right night.

"But you were speaking of the terms of our friendship," Morpheus prompts him.

It's a kindness, and Morpheus must know it, to be distracted from the existential crisis that is creeping up on Hob. Maybe Morpheus can see the waking nightmare hovering behind him, who knows.

"Yes, as I was saying, I don't regret being, uh, like this," Hob starts again, pointing at his own heart. "But it gets… well, it's hard. Maybe you know what I mean, being you know, Endless. Maybe you don't notice the passage of time, or maybe mortal lives are so fleeting that you don't care—"

"I care. And I notice."

Hob swallows hard again, and plows on, because if he stops to unpack the utter misery with which Morpheus just said that, he thinks he's going to have to get up right now, race out into the early morning dawn, and dig up whoever did this to his friend and kill them all over again.

"Right. Okay. Yes, you care, so you understand that… you have to let go. Do you know what I mean? You have to walk away. You have to… let things, let people, slip through your fingers. It doesn't matter how tightly you hang on to someone or something, change is inevitable. Time… ah, your father… has its… his way with us all. Except me. And you."

Morpheus watches him carefully, intensely, and Hob can't read what that expression means, hasn't seen it before. But if it was on a human, he'd call it intense and focussed affection.

"And I love life. I love humanity. I love the weird shit we come up with, and the ways we change, and grow, and at the same time stay exactly the same. I love people. I love love. But it can be…" he spreads his arms wide, clutching at the empty air, wishing he was better at putting thoughts into poetry. Then maybe he could explain himself better to the Prince of Stories.

Oh, so that's why that bitchy little twink Shaxbeard—no, focus, Gadling. Not right now.

Morpheus smirks at Hob's line of thought, but otherwise doesn't interrupt.

"The point of what I'm saying is that…" Hob takes a deep breath and plunges in. "You're my anchor. And you pull me through the years, and I follow along the tow line and… no, no, that sounds like you're dragging me down." Hob scrubs a hand through his hair, the beer and the adrenaline and the late hour catching up with him. He feels giddy and tongue-tied and stupid. "Maybe, you're a kite, then? And our meetings is the string, and when it's wound around my wrist, when I know what direction my life is being pulled by you and the wind, then it… it's full. It's taught. It's exciting. But when that string was… was slack… when you didn't come, when I thought I'd driven you away, I… I couldn't… there was no direction, and there was no point, and I—" Hob laughs flatly, false. "I had to build myself a fan, I guess. An Inn to fill the sail of the kite, and just hope that my breeze would come back and—"

And he doesn't talk about the years in the middle. The years between when he bought the White Horse, and before he threw himself into his schooling. The years when the misery of being forced to shut down the one place he needed more than air and food and water, because it tied him to his Stranger, the years when the White Horse continued to deteriorate and there was nothing he could do, except maybe sleep until 2089 and hope. The years when he put anything and everything down his throat, into his veins, up his nose just so that he didn't have to feel it, the wretched passage of time, the despair, the isolation and loneliness, the—

Morpheus' hand on his knee brings Hob back to himself. He huffs and wipes the moisture away from the corner of his eyes.

"What I'm saying is… I lost who I am, without you," he says slowly, covering that moon-pale hand with his own sun-browned and sword-calloused one. "And I'm not saying that you have to spend time with me. But I thought I ruined everything. And learning that instead you were captured and suffering, and I had no way of knowing and no way of helping, that's just so much worse. I need you, Morpheus. And more than that, I like you. These last few decades were awful without you, and I… I don't want to force you to spend time with me to keep me sane, that's not what I'm saying. I don't want to drown you in order to keep my own head above water."

Mixing metaphors again, Gadling. Get to the point.

"I guess what I'm saying is that I want to spend time with you. More than once a century. I want to be your friend, and I want to know when you're hurt, or in trouble. I want to be there for you, the way that you're there for me. I want to be the solution to your loneliness, the kind that only people like you and me know. The people who go on, and on, and on, when everything around you is always changing or withering away. Because you are the solution to mine. You're…" Hob decides that six hundred and seventy-two is too old to speak in euphemisms. "You're all that I get to keep. So, please. Can I keep you?"

"I too find that I thrive when I am seen," Morpheus says, summing up Hob's rambling with eloquence and sincerity. "And I am more than satisfied with your explanation. I find that I… share your sentiments. So yes, I shall give you a way to contact me, and a way to know if I am in distress. And I will be happy to meet with you more often."

"Once a week too much?" Hob asks, sniffling with pent up emotion and swift relief. "God's bones, I sound like such a clingy bastard. I guess I am. I won't be ashamed of it."

"If that is the case, then I find I am one as well. Will every Tuesday evening be acceptable?"

Hob didn't teach Tuesday afternoons, but Morpheous probably already knew that. "More than."

"Excellent. It is done."

Hob huffs out a weak laugh, flopping back into his chair and feeling like he's just gone a hundred rounds with a heavyweight champ. Or sold his soul to Morpheus all over again. Morpheus releases his hand and pours them both more tea, though when Hob takes a drink, he finds it's become a sweet, cool wine, the kind he'd once had in Greece, centuries ago.

After they sip for a few moments, Hob screws up his courage, and asks, "And was it Morpheus who was… 'unavoidably detained'," Hob says, putting the finger-quotes around the phrase.

Morpheus goes silent for long enough that Hob worries again that he's offended his friend again.

"We don't have to talk about it," Hob assures him. He reaches out his hand for Morpheus, offering support and understanding, just as his friend had offered it to Hob. He is relieved and flattered when Morpheus takes it again, without a moment's doubt.

"I… do not think I could bring myself to speak of this again, if I were not to unburden myself now. You have confessed so much this evening, and I feel I must honor your truth with my own, no matter how… infuriatingly painful and humiliating the confession may be. I was, as you surmised, captured."

"How can someone capture a… a concept?" Hob asks softly. "A literal, actual force of nature?"

"How indeed," Morpheus says, rueful and bitter. "While most magic is insubstantial nonsense," Morpheus begins slowly. He lifts his free hand and spreads his fingers wide, and on his palm a whirlwind of golden sand swirls into the shape of a small glass cage, with a tiny, prone man trapped inside. Hob's heart clenches when he realizes what he's looking at. "There are some immutable laws of existence that can be harnessed and twisted to entrap even one such as I. But it was not Dream of the Endless that Rodrick Burgess sought to enslave, nor even Morpheus the God of Sleep, but Death her very self…"

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dream-meister-translations · 19 days

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PERSONA 5 : THE PHANTOM X

PERSONA 5 : THE PHANTOM X BETA - PART 4

━

After a long day, Wonder lays down to go to bed for the night, only to wake up in the Velvet Room again.

MEROPE : Good evening...

WONDER : Merope..?

MEROPE : Yes, that is my name. You are currently at home. Asleep. I apologize for disturbing your rest, however, Master has an important message to convey to you...

IGOR : I have more advice I'd like to share with you.

WONDER : Advice...?

IGOR : However, I would first like to express my gratitude that you are still safe and sound. I told you that I wanted to see you again, and you have fulfilled that wish for me.

IGOR : Not only that, you have revealed to me another possible path forward...

WONDER : Another path forward...?

IGOR : Ah, are you "curious" to know? Hehehe...Very well. I believe you have the power to make others aware of the "desires" they have forgotten.

IGOR : This new development makes our inevitable parting even more unfortunate...

MEROPE : In the end, your fate is "Destruction."

WONDER : Destruction...?

IGOR : This is why I wish to give you another piece of advice. That power you possess might lead you down another path...

IGOR : Those who awaken to their desires, can build connections with each other...Helping to nurture said desires in each other's hearts. That is what you must do.

WONDER : Nurturing each other's desires...?

IGOR : Hehehe...You need not understand now. In time it will all become clear. All you need to know is that if you resist your inevitable "destruction," and seek out those like you with desires hidden in their hearts, you can hone your own desire.

IGOR : Merope will assist you in this process. I have responsibilities of my own, you understand, right?

MEROPE : I am at your service. We can continue this at a later time. You should rest for tonight.

IGOR : I really do hope to see you again. Hehehe...

WONDER : (...Something's touching my forehead...?)

RUFERU : Good morning...

Wonder's eyes snap open and he sits up in bed, realizing that it is Ruferu who has been tapping his forehead with his beak in hopes of waking him up.

WONDER : Good morning...

RUFERU : Sorry to disturb you so early, but there's something important I need to report.

RUFERU : I know that I told you I would explain everything, but there is something I must investigate first. Once I figure out what's going on, I promise to tell you everything I know.

RUFERU : I'll stop by your school during lunch break to find you. I just wanted to let you know that I haven't forgotten our agreement.

RUFERU : After all, we are partners now. It's important to keep each other informed through meetings like this.

WONDER : You mentioned something about assignments before...?

RUFERU : Right! Your performance yesterday in the Metaverse really impressed me. Which means we will be working on cases together from here on out!

WONDER : (Working together with Ruferu...It feels like something is changing inside of me at the news...My relationship with Ruferu seems to be growing...)

"With this, thou attains a brand new oath, Swear to sail desire's distant waves together, Riding the blessed currents, Wandering hearts, adding to your strength..."

RUFERU : This room of yours is pretty boring...If it's gonna be our base, you should really spruce it up and add some color. Anyway, I'm gonna get outta here. See you later...

WONDER : (To resist destruction I must seek out those with desires hidden in their hearts and hone my own desire...What did he mean by that? I have no idea...)

WONDER : (Did Ruferu just say this is "our base?" Ugh...I have no time to think about this stuff, if I don't leave now I'll be late for school!)

He gets out of bed and heads out of the room, stopped midway through the hallway by the sound of a text message from his mother. Checking it, he finds she has texted a few times.

MOM : We reached the airport.

MOM : It's been years since your dad and I traveled alone.

MOM : Look forward to tons of souvenirs!

MOM : I left you some Yen on the table, don't spend it too recklessly.

MOM : Oh, and remember to stay safe and lock the door. I'll message when we get there.

WONDER : (Oh yeah, I totally forgot mom and dad are going on vacation...They said it would be a couple of weeks before they come back...On the note of locking the door, mom always does, so Ruferu must have got through my window...I better make sure to shut it properly...Anyway! I'm gonna be late for school!)

With that, Wonder heads out the front door. Before he can rush to school, a woman comes over to speak with him.

INNOVATIVE WOMAN : Ah~ If it isn't little Wonder?

WONDER : Yeah, I'm Wonder...

INNOVATIVE WOMAN : Oh my~ It really is you! It's been such a long time. You went and grew into a handsome young man~! You haven't forgotten me, have you? It's me, Kayo Tohyama.

KAYO TOHYAMA : I'm your next door neighbor. You kids grow up so fast~ I talk to your mom from time to time~ Oh dear, I'm so sorry, you must be heading to school, right?

KAYO TOHYAMA : This school uniform...You must be attending Kokatsu Academy?

WONDER : That's right. You really know your stuff.

KAYO TOHYAMA : Why of course I do~ The collar and number of pockets on the uniform are quite distinctive. It hasn't changed since I was your age~

KAYO TOHYAMA : Speaking of school, when my son went to school this morning he said he would be partaking in a tournament held at Kokatsu Academy~ I even told him I would go to Kokatsu Academy to bring him food and cheer him on~

KAYO TOHYAMA : First you have to head to Shibuya, then take the Inishi Line to Shimokitazawa, right~? Oh dear, I almost forgot! I have to make food for my boy! Well, until next time~

WONDER : (I'm so gonna be late for school...)

#persona 5 #p5x #persona 5 phantom x #p5x translation #persona 5 phantom x translation #persona 5 x #persona 5 x translation #p5px #p5px translation #p5xpart4

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genshinfanboy · 1 year

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His Magic

|Hello everyone. I got this idea from several artist I follow posting non-genshin art. It got me thinking about this. This will be an au that involves witches and familiars. Modern technology does exist but is ran by magic instead of electricity. If you want more from this au feel free to send in an ask for hcs with certain characters or for me to write for a character in this au, or just more information in general. As I always say feel free to change the pronouns to match your own. I hope you enjoy and have a lovely day or or night.

Scenario: In a world of magic there are witches beings with the ability to possess magic. Witches tend to have a familiar a life long companion who is there to help and protect them. Familiars have two forms a human form and an animal form. They have a soulmate connection with the witch they are supposed to be with. When a familiar pact is formed with a witch the familiar, if the witch is their destined one the familiar will be able to feel the witches heart beat.

Cyno, Kazuha, and Tighnari(Separately) x a Gender Neutral Reader.

Warnings: mild angst, minor spoiler(?) and super long.|

Cyno (familiar):

Cyno had grown up with a witch they were his best friend and one of the most important people in his life. He was a familiar and had hoped for awhile that (Name) would make a pact with him. They had already been together for a long time what is the rest of their life. The day came where (Name) was being pressured by their parents to find a familiar. The two were barely adults. Their magic was growing out of control. Cyno approached them with and saw they seemed stressed out.

"Is everything ok?" He asked. They looked at him before shaking their head no. "My magic is becoming too much to be stored in my body. I'm constantly getting pestered by my parents to find a familiar. I don't want to find a familiar and find out I'm not their soulmate. I'd get too attached and wouldn't want to leave me for another witch. As you know our connections are special. We are ment to take care and protect each other." They rambled with their face in their hands.

In truth they really didn't even want to make a pact. It's what they were told to do. Over the years they knew cyno they seemed to of forgotten the fact he was a familiar. They were too busy hiding their face to notice their friend come and look at their spell book. It was open to a familiar summon page. The spell is typically used by witches who need a familiar fast. It summons a temporary familiar who isn't bound to anyone and is happy to work with the witch.

Cyno had to repress a growl that wanted to come out when he saw the page. He shut the spell book making them uncover their face. They looked at him surprised. "Cyno Why'd you close it? It took me ages to find that spell!" They said with a frown. "Make a pact with me instead. I haven't ever bonded with a witch before but I'd rather be your familiar than some temporary one." He stated in such a matter of fact way it seemed to make their eyes widen.

Cyno always liked the color of their eyes. He just liked them in general. They always treated him nice too. When they were young the other kids tended to be afraid of him. They claimed jackal familiars were violent and savage. He never hurt anyone who didn't do something wrong to begin with. He worked with the high magic counsel to protect both witches and familiars from harm and deadly situations.

However (Name) was always kind to him. They always sought him out when others would quiver in fear at him glancing their way. He has always been a man of few words. In middle school when he met his other witch friend Tighnari and was told his jokes weren't funny. They still laughed and smiled at some of them. Even when Tighnari told (Name) not to encourage his jokes.

"I could never do that to you cyno. I don't want to trap you and take you away from your work. I'm still an apprentice witch at the akademiya after all....." They were about to continue going but were quieted by him. "I want to know if you're my destined one. Please allow me to be selfish this once and make a pact with me." He said gently taking their hand into his. Cyno saw their thought through a series of expressions they were making. It made him frown. Had he been in his jackal form his tail and ears would've dropped.

After what felt like forever in them making their choice they gave a sigh. "How mad would you be if I tried choosing someone else?" They asked. Cyno tried and failed to repress the growl he felt this time. They stood up and pat his head. "Fine but promise me you'll break the contract if I'm not your soulmate. I'd rather you be able to find them." They said giving him a smile. Cyno quickly nodded.

The familiar contract was quickly cast. (Name) seemed hesitant and unsure but followed through. After they cast the contract cyno could hear a rapid thumping sound. He looked around confused at first. He was in his jackal form because of how the contract is casted. He felt some of their magic in his body. His tail started moving uncontrollably when he realized the sound. They sat on the ground casting the spell for the first time must've made them tired. He walked over placing his upper body on their lap.

Their parents rushed in and saw them with Cyno on their lap in his jackal form. "(Name) you finally made a familiar contract? With a Jackal familiar too." Their father said not recognizing their childhood friend. His tail was still swaying happily. He figured they were his destined one even if they weren't he wouldn't tell them but he could hear their heart beat perfectly. "Well this is only if I'm Cyno's soulmate." They quickly explained to their parents. Who were now staring wide eyed at the two.

That was years ago now. He was their familiar and they were his soulmate. They had graduated from the akademiya. They worked on sevrral projects at a time. Cyno walked into their study and saw they hadn't taken a break. They had been working on a new healing potions for those who got injured. He still had his job with the magic counsel but worked less hours. He crossed his arms and walked over.

"Love it's time to take a break. You've been there since I left this morning. I know you haven't taken a break cause the honeyed dates and water I brought you before I left haven't been touched." He said placing a hand on their shoulder. They seemed so absorbed in the project they didn't realize he was back. Because they jumped startled when his hand met their shoulder.

Cyno frowned as he heard their heart beat become fast and rapid. He saw they were about to protest and picked them up effortlessly. "Cyno put me down I'm so close." They whined but to him they just looked exhausted and no closer than they did earlier. He held them close and took them to their bed. "Rest first finish it later. " He said setting them down. It seemed they fell asleep the moment their head hit the pillow. He gave a sigh. He has such a careless witch. He was glad there was no other familiar meant for them.

The next day (Name) woke up confused. They didn't remember much after Cyno picked them up. Speaking of Cyno they didn't feel him anywhere. They jolted out of bed concerned. He was always near when they woke up and felt panicked he was gone. Then they noticed a letter on their night stand. They quickly glanced over it and found out Cyno had to leave earlier. They frowned at the thought of not seeing his beautiful sunset like eyes first thing.

They looked at the time and realized it was noon the next day. They gave a yawn and was slightly glad Cyno made them take a break. They stretched and got up to get ready for the day. They missed the message Cyno sent them asking if everything was on. He always seemed to know when their heart speeds up. They quickly responded before they heard him opening the door.

They quickly went to greet him. Their eyes widened as they saw the exhaustion in his eyes. They rushed over. "Cyno are you alright?" They asked worried. He nodded remaining quiet. They patted his head and pulled him into a hug. "I'll make us some food and we can just relax ok?" They said with a soft smile. He nodded. This was a common routine between them.

Kazuha(witch) :

Kazuha was out walking through the forest to return to his home when he found a little creature that seemed injured. He picked it up and noticed it was cold to the touch. He was definitely worried for the little one. He gently and carefully took them back to his home. He wrapped the little (hair color) cat up in a blanket after he took care of any injuries with his magic.

Kazuha could sense they were different than regular cats. This person must be a familiar. He waited for them to wake up for he could find out more about them and what happened. He pulled out a note book and started composing some poems. He was just going to do nothing while waiting for them to wake up. After a few hours he heard movement and looked over to the small cat watching their movements. They seemed confused and disoriented.

"Are you ok little cat? I found you a bit roughed up and was worried you had gotten into some kind of fight. Please don't be afraid I have no intentions of harming you." Kazuha said in a steady tone. His crimson eyes watching their movements carefully. The cat seem to relax from his words. It helped he casted a calming spell as well. They seemed hesitant to do anything still. "If you're a familiar and able to tell me what happened I'd be happy to make us come food and listen." He gave a kind reassuring smile.

The cat contemplated for a moment. "How do I know this isn't a trap?" They asked. "I'm not rather fond of traps. I am just a traveling witch. I go to and fro place to place. I happened to find you while coming back to my current residence. My name is Kaedehara Kazuha. I can't make you believe my words but I mean no ill intent." He said keeping his distance. He wanted to give them a chance to leave if they so desired.

(Name) watched the witch with narrowed eyes. They were very hesitant to trust witches. After a group of their kind were the reason not that long ago they had collapsed. It was because they refused to make a familiar contract with one person of the group. The worst part was they knew the witches forever. They watched as Kazuha made no movements. Their instincts were telling them he was fine but they were still hesitant.

"I'm going to get up and go make some tea would you like some? I'd prefer it if you didn't leave as I couldn't heal all of your injuries fully but I won't stop you if that is what you wish." Kazuha stated. They watched him stand. They raised an eye brow at the way he went the to the kitchen. His movements were nearly silent. (Name) decided to get up and follow him into the kitchen. He was very soft spoken and seemed kind. "So why are you being so kind of me? Won't your familiar get upset I'm here?" They asked as they followed him in the kitchen.

Kazuha shook his head no. "You had no signs of being malicious or anything. There is nothing wrong with aiding a being in need. I don't have a familiar as of this moment but I'm not pressed to get one either. As time progresses if I am meant to have one I will. You're welcome to travel with me or go back to wherever you need to. I just wish to make sure you're healed before I send you off." He answered boiling some water.

(Name) decided to stay with Kazuha for now. He was strange but still charming. They were curious about him. As time progressed with them by his side they didn't wish to leave it. He never pushed them away or anything and was rather kind to them even in their human form. He was musically talented as well as poetic. He was quite handsome and charming too. Before either of them knew it they spent a year together. They traveled place to place and gained new experiences.

One day while Kazuha was writing a poem he had (Name) on his lap in their cat form. "Hey Kazuha." They started. He put his full attention on them. "Yes (Name)? He answered with a smile. "Would you consider making a familiar contract with me? Most witches I know are terrible but you're different I wish to stay by your side." They mumbled quietly hoping he wouldn't hear. He gave a small laugh their attempt was rather endearing. "If that is what you wish I'd be happy to comply and make you my familiar." He stated giving their head a pat. He cast the familiar contract spell.

Kazuha smiled gently when they turned to their human form. He preferred this form a lot. As he had grown rather fond of them. He noticed a faint red dusting their delicate face. He leaned closer with a smile. "Oh do I happen to be your soulmate as well as your witch no? What is it like? Familiars tend to not share with witches how they know who their soulmate is. I'd love to find out." There was slight teasing tone in his voice. They stammered out something as an excuse but it was rather incoherent. They covered their reddening face to hide it from his view. He gave a small frown at their action.

"Well if I'm not your soulmate we can break the contract and search for your soulmate on our next travel." He stated teasing ever so slightly. The way their hands moved from covering their face to holding his hands made him feel regretful for teasing. "I'm sorry (Name) I was just joking. I don't want to give up someone who as nice and lovely as you." He said holding their hands in his. He seemed amused to see their face darken with their blush.

(Name) looked away from Kazuha and at the ground. To think the witch that protected them and saved them was their destined one. His heart beat was a steady and smooth as his voice. "You are my soulmate but telling you how I know is extremely embarrassing I'd rather not." They mumbled quietly. He gave a patient and happy smile. "Then take your time and tell me when and if you wish." He said tilting their chin up to look at him.

After the contract was made (Name) noticed Kazuha had become more flirtatious and silvered tongue around them it made their mind and heart race. However with his actions whenever they made some physical contact they were able to hear his heart raced. They two had a fairly standard routine for how they travel and spend the days and nights. Their lives had become entangled with each other.

The one day Kazuha didn't wake up with you by his side he nearly lost his mind. They could feel his heart speeding up. They hope he calms down when he finds their note they didn't want him to panic. They wanted to surprise him with a gift for everything he had done for them. They had to wait until a night he had gotten drunk and fallen asleep to not wake him up after all.

As they made their way back home they still felt his heart racing in panic. (Name) hoped Kazuha was still at their shared home. They heard his voice calling their name with concern. They saw him up ahead on the path. With his keen sense of hearing he seemed to of hear their footsteps. He rushed over to them and hugged them tightly. "I was so worried when I awoken and you were no where to be found. Why didn't you leave me a note or something?" He asked pulling away and looking into their eyes. They gave an apologetic smile. "I wanted to surprise you with a gift for everything." They answered pulling out a lyre. "There is no need for that. Merely being with you and being able to wake up by my side is all I could ask for." He said kissing their forehead.

Tighnari (Witch):

Tighnari was a very diligent person. He lived in the forest taking care of the various flora and fauna. Recently he had taken on a familiar apprentice after they had brought an adventurer to him. The adventurer was passed out because they consumed an inedible mushroom. After they wanted to learn about taking care of different plants and species. At first they were a stranger to him.

Tighnari was reluctant at first but found they were a diligent worker. They were also as passionate as him when it came to plants. In their animal form they were a small fennec fox with a (hair color) coat. When they told him their name some old memories had clicked for him. The two had met as little kids but he was positive that (Name) didn't remember him. It made him a bit irritated to think about but never let them know. After all they had made a silly little promise back then too. It was if they got taller than him he'd have to marry them.

He didn't mind the company and they could relate with his fox features when they were in their animal form. It was a toss up if he was going to be a familiar or a witch because of his parents. He turned out to be a witch with permanent familiar features. Not that he minded but it was quite a rare occurance. He found teasing (Name) was quite fun on occasions as well.

Tighnari also admittedly had liked (Name) for a long time. A really long time he wanted their promise to remain in the past cause while they were small in their animal form they were quite a bit taller than him. He was outside making some observations on the conditions of the local wildlife. He noticed a large infestation of a non-native flower recently. He made notes on the spread and what would be the best way to deal with the infestation.

"Hey Tighnari you should take a break and come eat some lunch you've been at this all morning." (Name) called from his home. He looked over at them and noticed a look in their eyes. It was as if they had something to tell him. He gathered up his notebook and stuff. "I'll be there in one moment. Go ahead and start eating without me" He called back. He gathered a quick sample from the flowers before heading in. He saw them waiting for him. He could smell the scent of mushroom stew. There was definitely something they wanted to tell him. They only made him this stew on special occasions or when there was something they wanted to tell him and it wasn't a special occasion.

"So out with it. You're clearly have something to say to me. It's better to address it before we share a meal." He stated crossing his arms. He did not expect their surprised expression. "Don't tell me you forgotten about what day it is?" They asked with their (eye color) eyes wide. Tighnari looked confused expression. He couldn't remember anything special about today. Though he was having to concentrate more on suppressing his excess magic.

He was about to go look at their calendar but was stopped by his apprentice/ friend. "Tighnari it's your birthday." They said with a laugh. He felt his face heat up and he looked away. "My mind has been preoccupied with other things as of recently. Plus at a certain point it just becomes another day." He saw their smile drop to a look of concern. "Are you ok? Are you getting sick? You're rather good with remembering dates and events." They said.

Tighnari jumped back when he had felt their hand on his forehead. His heart was racing so fast in his chest. It made him glad he didn't have a familiar contract with the familiar destined for him. "What on earth are you doing? You've been my apprentice for awhile now. Checking someone's temperature with your hand can be ineffective. We have a thermometer use that first to check temperatures. I'm also just fine and not running a fever." Tighnari scolded. His face was completely red. He had grabbed onto his tail in order to stop it's movement. He looked away from them embarrassed.

"I'm glad you're ok. Also happy birthday. I'll also be heading to the desert for a few days. Cyno offered to take me to see something." They said seeming less concerned. Tighnari felt his ears drop but couldn't care much. He was saddened to think about them leaving. He couldn't join them because he can't stand heat very well. They seemed to of noticed the minor drop in his mood.

"Hey Tighnari it's ok. I'll be back in hopefully a week or less. Plus I still plan on eating lunch with you. It's your special day after all. I want to spend time with you but the gift I wanna get you is in the desert. Wait for me to get back?" They said with a smile. Tighnari now wasn't in much of a mood to eat. He couldn't convince them to stay. He knew better since they are extremely stubborn. He got some of the soup and the two ate in silence. Was he being petty? Perhaps but what does that matter. He'd happily just take their company as a gift.

After they had been gone for 5 days there was a really bad storm that occurred. He must have the worst luck as he managed to get struck by lightning during the storm. Tighnari was now forced rest. He had managed to keep his mind off them leaving him for a bit by keeping himself busy from when he woke up until he went to bed. His tail flicked in irritation. He decided he was going to ask them to be his familiar so he won't be left alone again. It'd also help to have a contract to control his magic.

Tighnari managed to fall asleep while resting he was unaware that (Name) came home. They were in their animal form to make less noise. They were carrying a golden rose as Tighnari always talked about them when the two were kids. They didn't see him outside nor hear him. As they made their way through the house they heard light snores. They quickly transformed to their human form and rushed to his room. Tighnari was rarely sick and took naps even less. They knocked on his door.

He didn't respond so they opened the door and saw him all bandaged up. They felt their heart pick up in pace. They rushed over long forgetting the rose they dropped. "Tighnari wake up." They said gently shaking him. When his bi colored eyes opened and saw them they seemed less panicked. Since he seemed as if he wasn't in pain or at least he wasn't until he jumped up hugging them. "Tighnari what happened?" They asked trying not to freak out.

"I was struck by lightning during a storm. I'm ok. What matters is you're back. I was worried sick about you." Tighnari was about to go off on a lecture but they beat him too it. "You need to get a familiar. Your magic has been acting up for awhile. Had you got one you would've been able to heal yourself easily by now. I'll happily take the role if you'll allow it." They said worried.

"I'm fine calm down...." Tighnari started before he processed what they said at the end. "Well if you are that insistent on becoming my familiar you'll need to turn into your little fox form and I can cast the contract." He said. This was a wonderful way to wake up from his nap. They seemed a little embarrassed realizing what they just declared. "Don't force yourself though if you didn't mean it" He said before they transformed. "I want to do it so long as you promise me it won't harm you cause I can wait. After all we have plenty of time you promised to marry me if I grew taller than you." They said with a worried look.

"Oh so you did remember me and just haven't said anything up until now? I don't know if I want a familiar that hides the truth from me." Tighnari said watching their ears drop and their head lowered. He stood up with seemed to bring back their concern. He kneeled down and picked them up. "Calm down I'm joking" he said before casting the contract spell. He noticed a shift in their demeanor. Their ears were straight up and their tail wagging uncontrollably. "Oh I must be your soulmate from that reaction I'll have to learn to control my heart beat." Tighnari said holding them in his arms.

"So what did you have to go all the way to the desert to go get?" Tighnari said. He watched their eyes widened in realization. "I was so worried about you I dropped the golden rose." They said trying to wiggle out of his arms. He just held them closer. He walked towards the door to go look for the flower. He looked surprised when finding it. He picked up with a smile. "Can't believe you went to find me one because I was obsessed with a story about it as a child. That was reckless." Tighnari stated shaking his head in disbelief. Looks like there's no getting rid of him for them.

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