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asimplearchivist · 10 months

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𝑪𝑯. 𝑰 — 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑶𝑵 𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑻𝒀.

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary 🕷️ ⤏ spider-woman of earth 928c is introduced to some unexpected visitors. pairing 🕷️ miguel o’hara/spider!reader word count 🕷️ 3.1k a/n 🕷️ ⤏ don't mind me, I'm just chasing a plot bunny. ⤏ this version of the rhino is from the spectacular spider-man universe because I’m self-indulgent and that’s still one of my favorite iterations of the character. I am also adlibbing this version of the 2099-verse because I only know what the wiki told me…and it wasn’t a whole lot. 🕷️ MASTERPOST 🕷️ 🕷️ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER 🕷️

Let’s review all this one last time, shall we?

“Hey, Rhino! You’ll have to try a bit harder than that to catch me!”

My name is—well, you already know that, don’t you?

A furious bellow set every hair on your body on edge. You hooked your feet on the lamppost and curled around it just in time to avoid the crushed taxi launched at your direction. The loan office it embedded itself into had been vacated when the scuffle started, thank God, as had the rest of the street’s occupants. You could hear police sirens several blocks over, trying to navigate the destruction the brute beast had left in his wake. You’d been trying to tire him out in the harsh summer sunlight—just as you had a couple of years prior.

I got bitten by an enhanced radioactive spider, and for the last five years, I’ve been the one—and only—Spider-Woman.

“You’ve really got to work on your aim, O’Hirn, I don’t know what to tell you,” you chided lightly, webbing the taxi and jumping down to swing it back at him. The metal husk caught him right in the chest, managing to knock him flat on his armored ass. “You’ve gotten a bit rusty since I last saw you.”

I’m sure you know the rest—I’ve saved countless people in Nueva York and have kept it intact. (Mostly.)

“I—don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!” he snarled, peeling himself out of the vehicle. “I never seen you before—d’you replace Spider-Man or somethin’?”

I lost my husband in a freak accident, I barely manage to keep my small business open, and sometimes I want for nothing more than to burn this suit and walk away from it all.

You raised a brow under your mask. “I’m afraid I’m the only resident web-slinger in this neck of the woods. Did you get your head bashed a little too hard while in the slammer?”

But I’ve learned that no matter how many times I get knocked down, shot at, blown up, stabbed, punched, kicked—you name it—I have to get up. Always.

The Rhino roared instead of opting to give a comprehensive answer to further the conversation, and you narrowly avoided getting impaled on his horn when he lunged. Latching onto the awning of the hotel across the street, you swung wide and squinted down at the mercenary as his momentum carried him directly into the rubble of the obliterated loan office.

I genuinely thought that I had seen it all: science experiments gone horribly wrong, villains of the week that would give horror writers a run for their money...weird-ass situations all around, and I’m weird.

Something…wasn’t right. Your spider sense had been ringing off the chart since he’d first galloped through the wall of your pharmacy demanding a fight—it was persistent and loud enough that it had given you a splitting headache by now. It hadn’t reacted this badly in several years, and you’d care not to think about the circumstances surrounding the last occasion.

But this…certainly took the cake.

This guy…wasn’t the Rhino you’d fought. You hadn’t even heard anything about the prison he’d been sent to being destroyed, or any of the inmates having made a miraculous escape, for that matter. He sounded different, acted different, looked different…not to mention the fact that this…imposter, or whoever he was, had a far more rudimentary armor than that of the first. It looked like a solid compound of some sort bound to his skin, rather than faulty nano-particles that had malfunctioned and locked themselves out of control at the time of its first reckless experimentation.

You’d know that better than anyone. Alchemax had been nothing but a source of perpetual pains in your ass ever since your husband died, the higher-ups far too hungry for imitation superhumans from a century prior to exercise caution or reason. They’d stop at nothing to get what they wanted, the common people they inevitably harmed be damned.

As the crumbling cinderblocks settled, you slipped down and landed lightly on the cracked sidewalk. You lamented the property damage of the entire block just as much as the fact that you were going to have to use your preferred pharmacy’s sister branch, all the way on the other side of the Hudson, and they always took days to refill your prescriptions even after you received the automated alert.

Computers. Damned with them, damned without them.

“Hey, O’Hirn?” you called into the cloud of dust slowly clearing in the mild breeze. “I don’t suppose you did my job for me and knocked yourself out, huh?”

This time, he charged without a sound. You tried to jump away with a yelp, your instincts screeching like a banshee, but his massive fist caught your ankle and slammed you down into the asphalt hard enough to crater around your frame. Winded, you only just caught his heel with both hands before he drove it directly into your chest cavity—you groaned with the strain of keeping his weight at bay, arms trembling with effort. You gasped for breath, eyes searching out his face despite the tears welling in your eyes (because damn that hurt), and twisted your wrist just enough to utilize the spinneret on the top of your wrist instead of in the bottom. The sickly sweet-smelling web nailed him right in the eye.

He stumbled back with a muffled shout, the silk having netted his entire head from the impact. You rolled out of the asphalt angel memorializing your clumsiness and away from his stomping feet, coughing and doing your best to ignore the pain lingering in your back and ribs.

“Got me there,” you wheezed, struggling to your feet. “Now I’m not going to play nice.”

“The hell is this stuff?” he shouted, finally tearing the object of offense free. “It reeks!”

“Something to help put you down for a nap,” you sighed, already threading the nearest dislodged fire hydrant. You waited in a tense crouch until he whirled on you and lowered his head to clock him in the knee.

He shook the ground when he dropped, howling while clutching the dislocated joint. Letting the hydrant loop over your head, you brought it harshly down on the opposite shoulder to incapacitate him further.

The ground swayed abruptly, and you staggered sidewise to keep from stumbling. The Rhino, despite his obvious agony, flashed you a shit-eating grin.

“Didn’t think about that, did’ya?” he goaded, before rearing his good fist back and driving it into the gaping crack in the concrete.

That entire section of the street caved into the sewer system below, and O’Hirn grabbed your ankle once more to drag you with him.

Rubble and unstable brickwork separated the pair of you, and you struggled to get your bearings even as it pinned you in place under running water (rather than actual sewage, thank God—it had taken months for the smell to leave your suit, even if the UMF had decontamination processes preprogrammed) like the odd little bug you really were.

Heart pounding, you clenched your jaw and shoved at the boulders blocking you in, fruitlessly at first—finally, finally they gave, and you surfaced with a ragged inhale.

Your entire body ached. You were going to have to deal with Alchemax soon, you really were, because your health insurance was definitely not going to cover a visit to the ER—your improved healing would still take a while to fix it, even if you were to gorge yourself like usual.

“Just be glad for no broken bones,” you muttered, peering up into the hazy sunlight streaming into the chasm Rhino had created. “Those hurt like a bitch.”

“I think I can help with that.”

You whipped around. “Oh, for the love of—”

Rhino’s fist nearly took your jaw clean off your skull with a dizzying roundhouse that sent you flying into what remained of the sewer’s wall. You collapsed on the service walk, biting your lip fiercely to keep the bubbling whimper firmly lodged in your chest. “Fuck, man, you couldn’t stand to be a gentleman, could you? That’s my good si—”

He cut off your tirade by clamping his fist around the back of your neck, dragging you into open air and glaring down his crooked nose at you.

Were you imagining things or was he…shaped differently than a normal person? Not even being a supervillain, he just…looked weird. Like, really weird.

Or…maybe it had to do with the fact that his fingers easily reached around to the front of your throat and were now squeezing hard enough to block your airway.

“I’ve about had enough of you,” he growled, grimacing as you grappled his arm in an attempt to release his grip. “You superheroes and your smart mouths. If the Big Man ever caught wind of another Spider hangin’ around, he’d blow a gasket.”

You had enough wherewithal to utilize your specialized webs once again, but even though you managed to cover his face again, he snatched your wrists and twisted them to the side to cut off the flow. He snarled and squeezed harder, though a small trickle of relief bypassed the growing panic of suffocating when he stumbled a little. His eyes were going crossed, it was working…

…but not quickly enough. You were fading fast, losing feeling in your fingers and toes, your hands and feet, your arms and legs…your heartbeat thrummed in your ears like a torn war drum, the only sound that followed the dizziness creeping into your consciousness.

Well…you supposed this was it. Definitely not the way you’d imagined going, but…your aunt would feed your cat. There were worse ways to go, certainly—you’d witnessed them firsthand. You just wish that you didn’t feel like such a failure, despite all your countless accomplishments and victories. None of it felt substantial. Not when you had failed to protect those most important to you.

Not when you’d lost your husband. Not when it should have been you.

Your body fell limp. You made one last effort to turn your head and bite the heel of the Rhino’s palm, but he only knocked the back of your head against the wall. You hardly felt it, really, only hearing your tapering pulse and the wailing ring of your spider sense.

“Fuck you,” you tried to rasp, but with no air to speak you only mouthed the words.

The Rhino had the audacity to laugh at that, glittering dark eyes eagerly watching yours steadily glaze over. He reached towards your chin, where he would find the seam of your mask.

Through darkening, blurry vision, you watched a maelstrom of crimson and gold bloom like an aurora over the Rhino’s massive shoulder, illuminating the damp maze of broken rock like neon on a rainy night. Your eyes drifted shut of their own accord as a shape sprinted forth from the vortex at breakneck speed. You hadn’t figured the afterlife would herald a six-foot bodybuilder in blue spandex, but, hey—who were you to complain about witnessing the epitome of masculinity at the time of death?

Listless, you barely recognized being dropped. You didn’t even realize the pressure had been released from your windpipe until your instincts kicked into overdrive. You inhaled so suddenly and so harshly, the burn was what startled you back into lucidity.

Sucking in precious oxygen, you propped your arms beneath your chest and lifted your impossibly heavy, throbbing head to stare in utter rapture as you witnessed what you’d accepted as a hallucination of the peak male figure proceed to kick Alexander O’Hirn’s ass into next week.

“What the hell?” you croaked, sagging into the floor.

The stranger was…lethal, really. Every punch and kick was delivered with frightening force and deadly accuracy. It wasn’t until he backflipped to avoid impalement into the sunlight that you saw the cross between a spider and skull motif caressing his rippling physique. Him then twisting his hands down and launching luminescent red threads to trip the beast mid-lunge only confused you further.

“You ready for the containment field?” called a second stranger—a woman this time—standing propped against an honest-to-God motorcycle in the mouth of the vortex.

The Rhino grabbed the webs and yanked hard. The man, to his credit, didn’t yelp as he was pulled off his feet and towards O’Hirn’s brandished horn.

You reacted before you could think.

Your web coiled around his midsection, and your braking pull slowed his momentum just enough to give him time to lift his foot and dig his heel into the Rhino’s left eye. They both careened into the heap of rubble and under the water.

You scrambled onto your feet, limping to the edge of the walk to peer into the murky depths. You were about to speak to the woman on the opposite side because you wanted to know exactly what in the actual hell that thing was, who they were, and why the hell were they both copying your design when the surface broke into a shower of droplets that speckled your suit. The man tumbled into a heap at your feet, dripping and coughing.

“I’d thank you for your help,” you panted in spite of your sore throat, “but I don’t think he’s down for the count quite yet.”

His head snapped towards you, and you saw the crimson frames surrounding the lenses of his own mask widen. He lurched upright, taking a full step away from you as though you’d tried to bite him. He towered over you easily, well over six foot (even past half?), and his musculature more than emphasized it.

“Hey, no hard feelings or anything, I appreciate the hand,” you said, raising placating palms to him. “I almost kicked the bucket back there, so I owe you—”

He whirled just as the Rhino surfaced from the deep, roaring in fury. His nose was bleeding profusely, but not from his nostrils—was that a bite mark across the bridge?

“Get back and let us handle it!” the man in the midnight suit snarled suddenly, and your heart stuttered.

Your mouth fell open as he launched himself forward, leaving gauges in the concrete where his feet had been planted. You watched, frozen and speechless, as he latched onto O’Hirn’s shoulders and spun him into a glowing red shibari presentation in less than ten seconds. The Rhino lost his footing and collapsed back into the water, though into the shallows. The woman tossed the man a device, and it bloomed into a forcefield that swallowed their fallen prey in a humming yellow cocoon.

“Oh.” You blinked, shut your mouth, and swallowed. “Wow. I need one of those.”

The stranger ignored you, stooping down and hefting the Rhino over his shoulder like he weighed a sack of potatoes.

You blinked rapidly before following his sloshing lumber across the canal. “Wait, wait a second, aren’t you going to—”

“We’ll take it from here, baby,” said the woman lightly, gesturing to the beast who had, oddly enough, fallen into a stiff stasis. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worried about it,” you responded tersely, “because that is definitely not the Rhino of my world, you two are just as out of place as he is, and that looks an awful lot like a wormhole that is somehow not causing the known universe to collapse in on itself. Can I please get an explanation, since you both seem perfectly calm?”

The man growled under his breath, shaking his head, while the woman arched an appraising brow at him.

“That’s classified,” he ground out through gritted teeth, and your heart squeezed once more.

“Do either of you work for Alchemax?” you demanded hotly, skin pricking with agitation. “Because if this is another one of their freakshow experiments gone wrong, I am going to blow that place sky high, I swear—”

“We don’t work for Alchemax,” she soothed. She cast another glance at her cohort, eyes narrowing, before she refocused on you with a much kinder expression. “And we definitely have no other intention than getting this big guy back to where he belongs. We’re not your enemies.”

“Just leave it alone, Jess,” hissed the man in blue, resuming his steady pace towards the glowing, shifting maw of raw power. “We need to get back before the toxin wheres off.”

You couldn’t take that nagging feeling anymore.

“Tell me what the hell is going on!” you snapped, hoping the indignation in your voice disguised the fact that your throat was unbearably tight and a persistent sting blurred your sight. “You can’t just—”

He didn’t stop moving, didn’t even turn to face you—not really—just tilted his head to the side enough to regard you with disdain from the edge of his peripheral. You couldn’t see it, of course, nor his expression, but the disapproving drawl of his single-worded reply was enough—more than enough, and you realized that it sounded familiar. “No.”

“Wait, please!” you tried, (begged, more like, much to your chagrin—you hated it when your voice cracked), taking a step forward and trying to decide whether it was worth the risk to web him immobile after his rather impressive (and aggressive) display. “Miguel?”

The imposing figure went stock-still mid-step.

Your breath caught, your suddenly buoyant heart lodging itself firmly in the pit of your throat. He sagged in on himself for a moment, a deep, shaky inhale emphasizing the sheer mass of him—easily thrice your mass—and his ragged exhale was the only indication of weariness you’d observed thus far.

“It would be best,” he enunciated thickly, almost garbled, as though he spoke around a mouthful of gravel, “if you forgot about this encounter altogether, in the long run.”

All you were able to absorb in that split second before he stepped through the contorting portal and disappeared were the splashes of golden light accenting the sharp angle of his cheek and jawline, as well as the subtlest suggestion of a deeply furrowed brow beneath the glimmering material comprising his mask and suit alike—just like yours.

The other woman regarded you for a long moment, something like sympathy clear on her unguarded, unconcealed face. You opened your mouth to entreat her, likewise, desperate for answers when the former stranger had so blatantly refused explanation, but she merely shook her head slowly, reminding you of a gentle, maternal refusal. She, too, wheeled her bike into the portal and flickered out of view.

Then, inevitably, the portal itself dissipated into nothingness within the blink of an eye, as though you’d been hallucinating the entire thing. The tunnel was plunged into total darkness, save the wall of sunlight behind you.

You dropped to your knees, your chin sank into your sternum, and the particles of your mask receded so you could cradle your face in your hands. Hot, embittered tears dripped from your nose and splattered against the concrete, only the faintest suggestions of discoloration in your distorted vision.

Just like that, he was gone.

Again.

#fanfiction #reader insert #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara/reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse #fisara's codices #miguel o'hara x reader #mine #across the spiderverse #spider verse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spider man: across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #atsv

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cloudcountry · 1 year

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music notes of the heart

Genre/Tropes: Study dates but its unestablished relationship? Floyd is flirting with you LMAO + Slow Dancing!!

Summary: Your tutor for musicology may not be other people's first choice, but he's yours.

Author's Comments: inspired by this tumblr post!! we truly do need more intelligent floyd content and i've already written for jade's dorky goofy silly side so many times sigh. also seriously, do not ask about the slow dancing merpeople rituals. you can infer. LMAO (@tinyletterz i hope you dont mind me tagging you but i was thinking of you when i wrote this bc yk. Floyd Leech. C:)

~~~~~

You set your books down on the table tucked in the corner of the library and sit down, shifting anxiously as you await your tutor. The smell of old papers and the sound of scratching pens from a few bookshelves away does nothing to dispel your nerves. If Ace and Deuce could see just who you’d asked for help, they surely would have yelled at you for hours and wrung out your neck in frustration.

It’s not like anyone else held the same passion for musicology, though. Besides, Floyd Leech wasn’t that bad once you got to know him.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, you think as he waltzes into the library, a lazy smirk on his face and his hands shoved into his pockets. His back is hunched slightly as he looks around the library, eyes scanning over each face with an almost predatory grin. You raise your arms and wave him over, trying not to make much noise to avoid being yelled at by the crabby librarian.

Floyd does not share that sentiment.

“Shrimpy!” he yells (honestly you don’t think he’s capable of yelling any louder) and bounces over to you.

He sweeps you into his arms in the blink of an eye, cackling madly as he nuzzles you. The librarian shoots the two of you a glare, and you shrink into his chest with shame. You’ll have to apologize to him later.

“Were ya trying to hide from me?” he breathes, sharp teeth on display as he grins down at your bundled-up form, “You know I’d sniff you out, right?”

“I wasn’t.” you protest, but it falls on deaf ears and Floyd squeezes you closer. His nose brushes against your cheek and he borderline snuggles you and you’re glad you’ve picked a table in the corner because if you were any closer to the center everyone would be staring.

“Alright Shrimpy,” he murmurs, setting you down in your chair with two quick taps on your head, “Ya said you needed my help with musicology?”

“I didn’t know who else to ask.” you say, sliding your textbook over to him with a furrowed brow, “You’re the best in that class and I can’t seem to grasp any of it.”

Floyd sits down next to you and leans in close, so close that you can smell the cologne on his clothing. You let him read through the notes you made on the sheet of lined paper you used to mark your page, gnawing at your lower lip self-consciously. You know you aren’t the best at this subject but it’s Floyd’s best, and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid.

He seems to be able to read minds because Floyd looks over at you with a pout.

“Shrimpy, I’d tell ya if you were stupid. So quit worrying.” Floyd scolds, snatching your hand up and squeezing it as he intertwines your fingers, “The fun thing about musicology is that you can analyze and learn from any angle ya want!”

“Freer subjects are harder to work with, though.” you confess, “I’m not sure how to go about...figuring something out when it doesn’t have structure.”

Floyd sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry as if to say “Boo, Shrimpy. Now you do sound stupid.” You can almost hear his voice.

“Just pick something and we can start from there. What kind of music do ya like?” he bumps you with his shoulder, a huge grin on his face, “Ya gotta have something.”

You answer him, and he makes an “ah-ha!” noise. He mumbles a page number and flicks through the textbook before coming to a stop at a chapter that goes into that exact type of music. There are music scores printed on the right page and some kind of tree diagram on the left one. You stare at the words incredulously, already lost.

“Come on now, Shrimpy. Work that tiny little brain of yours.” Floyd teases, jabbing your temple with a giggle, “I know you can do it.”

You swat his hand away and wiggle your hand out of his hold, feeling a foreign heat creep up on your cheeks. Floyd giggles again as if he knows, and leans in even closer to you.

“Hey Shrimpy.” he whispers, eyes gleaming in the corner of your vision, “I changed my mind, let’s ditch the reading. I’m getting bored. What are ya gonna do about that, huh?”

You’re not sure you can do anything honestly, but you expected him to leave pretty early on in your study session anyway. It’s a miracle you got him to agree in the first place.

“Oh, you can leave.” you offer him a quick smile and turn back to your textbook, pouring over the words, “I didn’t expect you to stay the whole time- Woah!”

You’re swept out of your chair but the second time that day, and your body thumps against Floyd’s. He stares at you with a cheerful grin as he takes your hands and places them on his arms. You jump a bit when his lanky arms wrap around your waist, but when he starts swaying slowly you get the idea.

“Let’s try something else, yeah?” he snickers, “Can you tell me why people slow dance?”

“Um...to feel emotional closeness?” you say, eyes glued to his rumpled purple shirt so you don’t have to look him in the eye.

“Bingo.” he chuckles, “Merpeople also have dances like this.”

You’re tempted to ask what those dances are for, but you don’t. Floyd sweeps you around and your feet lift off the floor for a second, but you don’t feel like you’re going to fall. Floyd squeezes you a bit tighter as he guides you, somehow avoiding any tables and chairs and bookcases with master precision.

“I didn’t know you could slow dance.” you whisper, “I thought you were more of a fast paced dancer.”

“Meh. Normally.” he shrugs, “But I like dancing like this with ya. It’s fun.”

Your heart flutters.

“Can ya tell me anything else about it?” he hums, lifting his arm and spinning you around. Your breath catches in your throat as he dips you, the arm carefully holding up your waist your only support.

“Um...” you stumble over your words, grasping for any thoughts as you stare into his eyes, “Uh, it’s- um, slow dancing brings people physically closer too? Because you can feel their movement and everything-”

“Good little Shrimpy.” he giggles, hoisting you back up and resuming his more soothing swaying, “See? You’re doing good. I told ya you’d figure it out.”

Did he? You don’t even remember.

“I think I need more instruction.” you mumble, eyes darting away once again.

Floyd laughs loudly at that, but this time you don’t care when the librarian shushes you.

#auburn's fics <3 #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd fluff #floyd leech is a silly guy #floyd x reader #floyd leech fluff #uhhh i dont rlly know if this counts as intelligent floyd?#I HOPE IT DOES.....#I GOT SIDETRACKED #uhhhh its fluffy and thats what matters #BYE NOW LMAO

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semisutopia · 1 year

Text

pairings: douxie x fem!reader

warnings: 5.1k word count, smut, name calling (baby, darling, love, pretty boy), making out, straddling, fingering, groping, saliva, hickeys, handjob, eating out, penetration (p in the v), thigh riding, cock riding,

as a writer, writing a romance novel, it's quite common to have a chapter that is completely devoted to sex. smut chapters are actually quite expected in romance books, especially when the main love interests are over 18.

so you sat on your bed, one leg crossed, one knee up, chin rested above it, and stared at the blank page on your laptop. make no mistake of course, you had plenty of, shall we say, unholy thoughts, but for whatever reason, you couldn't find inspiration. almost as if on cue, you heard a knock on your window.

normally, living on the second floor would deter people from climbing up to your roof, but here, you must remember that hisirdoux was far from normal. you sighed and opened the window to let him in, "you know we have a door, right?".

as he climbed through the open window he responded, "i didn't want zoe to see me. your roommate doesn't exactly approve of me". you snickered, "yes i know, i told her not to. anyways, what do you want?". he leaned on the windowsill, "i felt like coming here. should i not have?".

any other time, you would've tried kicking him out immediately, but seeing as you couldn't get any work done, you decided letting him stay wasn't the worst idea, and decided to watch a movie together as there wasn't much else to do.

"corpse bride?". "yeah sure", you loaded the movie on your tv and walked to your bed. douxie sat at the head of the bed and motioned for you to come near him. you sat next to him but turns out that's not what he meant. he patted the space in between his legs and you gave him an 'are you serious' look. "please?".

damn it he's cute. you placed yourself in between his legs and his arms snaked themselves around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. you relaxed into his touch as the movie started, intertwining your hands with his. the butterflies in your stomach rising as he melted into your touch.

you looked down at your linked hands, "wait why are you wearing a suit?", you turned to look at him. "ah well, there was this ceremony at school so we had to dress up" "remind me again why you keep going to school events when it's just your alias?".

he chuckled, "there's not much else to do". "no of course not. it's not like you work two part-time jobs and are a full-time wizard or anything", you said, giggling a bit.

"well, if we're talking about dress codes, how come you're wearing the same skirt you wore last week to the party?". if you were being honest, you wore some lingerie underneath your short skirt and long t-shirt to try and spark something in your writing.

"why can't i wear it?" "c'mon just tell me", he hugged you tighter. the butterflies came back. "i...i just wanted to spark up some inspiration for my writing" "and what exactly are you writing about?", you could tell he already knew the answer. and he knew exactly what he was doing. "you're really enjoying this, aren't you?" "absolutely".

"something similar to what happened at the party...in this skirt", flashbacks of last saturday flooded your mind as you closed your legs tightly, placing a hand above your skirt. "may i help with that?", he said, dangerously close to your ear.

"just watch the movie", you tried focusing back on victor and his skeleton bride on the screen, but failed after a few minutes as you felt soft fingertips tracing along your thigh. you decided to ignore it...or try to, at least until he started softly kissing up your neck.

he placed soft, long kisses along your nape, drawing small circles along your inner thigh, slowly rising higher. "what are you doing...doux?".

he heard you. oh, he definitely heard you, so he kissed you harder, sucking on your skin, and his hand groping your thigh more, other hand on your waist, traveling to your hip.

both of you were clearly not paying attention to the movie anymore but it didn't matter.

your hand traveled up to his hair and tugged on it slightly. he hummed in response. soon enough, his fingers reached under your skirt and started touching the lace of your panties.

you sucked in a sharp breath as his index finger circled your folds. you pulled harder on his hair to stop yourself from being vocal, but that only made him let out a moan, himself.

fuck that was hot. soon enough, his second finger reached your clit. then his third, and you finally gave in, vocalizing your appreciation. you didn't want him to stop. actually, no, that was incorrect. you wanted more.

you removed your hand from his hair and brought it down to his chin, lifting his head up from your neck and brought his lips to your own. his right hand came up to your ribcage under your shirt and you shivered at his cold touch. his left hand still playing with you under your skirt.

you moaned softly into his mouth, eliciting him to bite your bottom lip. this whole thing felt like a positive feedback loop; one of you moans only for the other to react in the same way, and over again.

"doux..", you seperated for air and leaned your forehead against his. he removed his hand from under your skirt and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. his hand not leaving your face, and making its way down to your neck. "hm?" "please could we⏤", he kissed you abruptly. you responded immediately. you parted and opened your eyes only to see him looking back at you, eyes glossy with desperation.

you smirked and turned around to face him. you connected your lips again and placed your knee between his legs, making him groan. you placed your hands on his chest to support yourself and he held you by the waist. "turn the tv off, please", he broke the kiss and went back down to your neck. you took the remote from the bedside table and switched the tv off.

you were getting more light headed as he kept kissing you, his hand travelled down to your thigh, gripping it tightly. you rocked your hips back and forth slightly as you hummed into his ear the more he nipped at your soft skin. you were driving him crazy and he wanted so much more of you. he wanted all of you. "pl..please y/n you're driving me mad" "what do you think you're doing to me?".

you pulled away from him, "give me your tie". normally, he would have asked why but he simply complied and started loosening his necktie, in the most attractive way possible. he removed it and gave it to you. you took it and smashed your lips into his. "fuck", he mumbled into your mouth. "you're really something, yknow that", he asked, rhetorically, when you broke away.

you smiled again and got off his lap, walking to your door and placing the tie on the door handle. "what's that supposed to do?", he asked, walking up behind you now. you faced him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "it tells zoe not to bother us", you said and pulled him back into a kiss. "smart girl", he murmured.

he guided you towards the foot of the bed and sat you down. "can i touch you?", he pleaded, not taking his lips off yours, "please?".

you remembered how he touched you before and rubbed your thighs together at the thought of him doing it again. you hummed into his mouth and mumbled, "yes please". his hand moved down to your thigh and rose up slowly, reaching the hem of your skirt, and tugging on it slightly.

you removed your skirt for him, leaving your legs cold and barren, only wearing your panty. your pretty, lace, black panty. to be frank, the day after last saturday's party, you and zoe went shopping and stopped at the lingerie store. you bought a set of black lingerie specifically for him, not that you'd ever admit it.

his lips parted from yours as he looked down at the pool he created between your legs, and smirked as you tried rubbbing your thighs again to create friction. "do you really want me to touch you, darling?", he whispered in your ear.

you gasped as he bit down on your neck, forming a purple mark, similar to what he did last week. his index finger hooked the string of your panty and slowly pulled down. you shivered at the cold air hitting your folds. his lips were still attached to your neck, but his fingers found your opening and rubbed around your clit. "doux..hurry u..up", you breathed.

he went back up to your ear and whispered, huskily, "patience, sweetheart". your titled your head back a bit and breathed out. without any more hesitation, he inserted his first digit into you, getting a loud gasp from you. soon, his second, and then his third, just like before.

your moans were melodious to him. you pulled his head back up and kissed him as his other hand roamed under your shirt. he pumped faster, his long fingers hitting just the right spot. "doux fuck~", you moaned as you threw your head back in pleasure. he loved seeing you like this. moaning his name, his fingers in you. he was the one giving you pleasure. fuck, it was turning him on. though, to be fair, almost anything you did turned him on.

he tried surpressing his own moans to not drown yours out, that he loved hearing.

a heat started filling your lower stomach. the kind that was going to flush out of you soon, very soon. he dipped down to kiss and suck on your collarbones, sliding the loose shirt off your shoulders. "doux i'm- fuck. d-doux", you started growing light headed as his pace increased.

he knew you were going to climax, and he wanted you to. but not with his fingers. he removed his fingers quickly, robbing you of an orgasm. "hisirdoux, i swear to god, if you don't let me come", he attached his lips to yours quickly, and started moving down.

kissing your neck, your collarbones, lifting your shirt up to kiss the place right under your boobs, and he kept going down. kissing lower and lower until he reached your clit again. you sucked in a breath and carded your hand through his dyed locks.

he held both of your thighs tightly, like he was trying to keep you from running away, not that you ever would. and started kissing the spot right above your knee, going up slowly. the higher he got, the sloppier his kisses became.

he placed open mouthed kisses up your inner thighs. "doux...", you whined. he didn't raise his head but you could practically hear his smirk. finally, he reached your folds. he kissed around your clit and you moaned, tugging his hair as a result. "pl..please doux", you wanted him. you wanted him to eat you out so bad. and he complied, inserting his tongue in your folds. licking and kissing you, the sounds of wet skin became louder.

not as loud as you were moaning though. you knew that this was horrible for his ego but you couldn't help it. he had a way of making you feel so damn good.

"fuck baby", his words vibrated in your pussy, sending you even higher. you arched your back as he gripped your thighs even harder. you moans became higher in pitch as you were nearing your climax again.

"you better let me come this time, casperan", you said. he chuckled, deeply and kissed you harder, in the perfect spot. "aah! d..do that again. please", you pleaded. and he did, and again. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, moaning in ecstasy.

"i'm cl-close..", you said, pulling on his hair harder now. "cum for me, darling. please", he mumbled against your lips. you let out a final moan as you hit your limit. you exhaled a shuddered breath as you opened your eyes to see him wiping his lips, smirking.

it just hit you what happened and you quickly covered your vagina with your shirt, trying to not make eye-contact with him. he rose, slowly, and leaned in close to you, lifting your chin up with his finger. "was that not good for you, love?", he asked, fully knowing the answer. you had a hard time focusing on him and your legs were quivering. he leaned in close to your ear and said, "i think you liked it", sending a shiver up your spine.

he placed his right hand in between your thighs and carressed it slightly. he knew he was in control here, but not for long. you pulled him back into a kiss and slid your hand down his shirt, slowly. you reached his belt and went even lower to place your palm on his erection. you could feel his dick twitch inside his pants and you smirked into the kiss.

you started rubbing his bulge, eliciting him to groan into your mouth. you bit down on his lower lip and slid your tongue into his mouth. he couldn't have asked for anything better, but he got it anyways.

you started unbuckling his belt and took it off slowly. undoing his pants, you parted from the kiss. you looked at him, eyes closed, he bit his lip slightly to keep from moaning. you went to the shell of his ear and kissed it once, "sit down". he did as told.

you placed yourself on his thigh and locked eyes. now, this wasn't a competition but neither of you wanted to look away. his eyes were filled with longing. he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him a few minutes ago. he was the first one to break as you started palming him over his boxers. "fuck", he mumbled, barely over a whisper. you slid down his underwear and he broke free.

you had assumed that he would be an average length but no, a solid nine inches of slender, throbbing, cock sprung free. you leaned in and kissed him again. his hands went up to your waist, under your shirt and he slipped his tongue into your mouth. you moaned as he sucked on your tongue with his own. you delicately touched the tip of his cock, smiling at how he twitched at that.

"so sensitive...", you mumbled into the kiss. you traced your fingers softly over his length. he knew why you were teasing him, the same way he did to you. but fuck, he wanted you. he needed you to touch him.

"pl..ease y/n", he breathed. you stroked him along his length, circling his tip at times. he threw his head back as you pumped him faster. you couldn't help but smile at how good you were making him feel.

you decided to buck your hips back and forth on his thigh to drive him over the edge. and it worked. you were driving him crazy. his mind started to fog as you were grinding against his thigh. to add insult to injury, you started moaning too, being stimulated in a lovely way by riding his thigh. the friction against your clit was perfect.

he honestly didn't know how much more of this he could take. but he didn't want to come. not just yet. he wanted the feeling of your warm hand on his cock. he wanted the feeling of your wet pussy grinding against his thigh. he wanted to hear your moans as you pleasured not only him, but yourself too.

unfortunately, his body couldn't take it anymore as his dick started twitching more, signaling his soon release. "i think i...i'm cumming- fuck-", he was a stuttering mess. and you loved it.

"go on, pretty boy", you said out loud and leaned in close to his ear. "cum for me", you whispered into his ear and kissed it. that was truly it for him. he groaned and felt his release coming in a few seconds. with a final touch to his tip, he reached his release and came in your hand. with that, he layed down on the bed, exhaling hard.

with your newfound confidence, you took off your shirt and wiped the white liquid on it, before throwing it your floor. you leaned forward and placed your hands on his abdomen to support yourself, "douxie?".

he opened his eyes and they widened in surprise, seeing you on top on him, in a lacy, black bralette, so loose that the strap was coming down your shoulder, that innocent look in your eyes. you weren't innocent, not by a long shot. and he knew that. but he wanted to corrupt you. he threw his head back as your hands started tracing up his shirt, undoing his buttons.

when you reached the top most button, you leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "can you fuck me?", you kissed his ear, "please?", and again, moving down to his collarbones. he was stunned. you were just covering your wet pussy with your t-shirt a while ago, and now you've asked him such a bold request. not that he was going to decline.

he grabbed your hip with one hand and your face with the other. he turned your face towards him and he crashed your lips into his, getting a moan out of you. he was getting hard already, and you were probably wetter than ever. you did mean it. you wanted him to fuck you. and he did too. his other hand went down to your thigh and started trailing back up.

it was these moments when he touched you that reminded you how you were feeling. and right now, you were still a bit embarressed. you had barely rode him and you were still so wet. throbbing and pulsing, he inserted one finger into you again. you gasped into the kiss.

he was done being teased and was ready to be in control again. he flipped you over so he was on top, and inserted his second finger into you. you tried rubbing your thighs together but he put his hand in between your legs. "now now, darling. i thought you wanted me to fuck you". his hand trailed up to stop right under your bra. he leaned in and kissed the spot. then bit it softly, sucking on the spot to leave it dark red.

you were in a frenzy. his slender fingers were still pumping in and out of you, he was still giving you hickeys along your rib cage and stomach. you arched your back and threw your head back.

"pl...please fuck me- doux..". he chuckled again, inserting his third finger, trying to drive you to the edge. "st-stop playing with me", you stuttered, completely a mess.

"cum for me, lovely", he said, and kissed you up your stomach until he reached your bralet lace. "f-fuck~", you were close. you wanted to climax. and his fingers were working their magic on you.

you had to finish. you had to cum. so you did. you gripped the bedsheet as you released, your back lowering from an arched position as your legs started shaking slightly.

he stared at your cum on his fingers before licking it off with his tongue. god, his tongue can do wonders. "you still want me to fuck you, y/n?", he asked, staring at your shaking legs.

"please", you pleaded. you were the desperate one now. and fuck, it turned him on. seeing you under him, legs shaking, covered in hickeys, and still gripping the bedsheet. all because of him.

it took you by surprise when he took out a condom from his pocket and opened it with his mouth. "you brought a fucking condom?", you asked, partially rhetorically. "i didn't bring it. adam slipped it in my pocket when i told him i was coming here", you laughed a bit. adam was always rooting for the two of you. now that you thought about it, it was adam's idea to have the both of you parttake in seven minutes in heaven at the party. goddammit. well, in this case, you were sort of glad he medled.

"do you not want me to use it?", he asked, he stopped putting it on halfway. "no no. use it", he smiled and put it on fully. you sat up slightly to kiss him, to which he gladly returned. you peeled off his shirt and then took off your own bralette.

you were completely naked in front of him. fuck, if it was even possible, he got even harder. before even touching you, he threw his head back and bit his lip. "fuck" "what?", you thought you did something wrong. he went down to your chest and kissed you around your nipple, his hands pulling you closer by your waist, "you're gonna be the fucking death of me, y/n". you rolled your eyes. partly because of his comment, but mainly because his kisses felt so good.

you held his shoulders and layed back down, pulling you with him to the point where he was hovering over you. you took him by the chin and connected you lips into a very sloppy kiss.

"can i?", he asked into the kiss. you mumbled a verification, not breaking away and gasped when he started inserting himself into you. "fuck- doux!", you moaned as he inserted his full length. "you okay?", he asked after giving you a minute to adjust to him. "fuck..", that was the only thing to could say. without moving at all, he was already hitting your g-spot. "y-yeah, i'm good..", he leaned into you and kissed you again.

your tongues moved in sync, just as your bodies did. after a few minutes, you needed air and broke apart from him, a string of saliva connects your lips. you cried out as his hand reached your clit, rubbing it slightly. as if his dick wasn't enough, you were in a state of pure euphoria. "f-fuck, does this feel good, love?" you wanted to ride him. you wanted to be on top. so you placed your hands on his shoulder blades and flipped him over.

to say he was surprised would be an understatement. his eyes widened as they came back into focus. he always thought you were beautiful. gorgeous. but god, you were so pretty like this. he threw his head back, gripping your sides with his hands as you rode him. he loved this. no, that was an understatement. he never wanted this to end. you riding him, he loved seeing the marks he left on you, your boobs bouncing slightly as you picked up the pace. fuck he loved this.

you ghosted your fingertips over his v-line , he sucked in a sharp breath. "i love when you touch me, sweetheart" "is that so?", you asked as you lowered yourself to kiss him along his lean figure. he was extremely thin, but toned. you placed kisses along the valley of his abs and it drove him mad.

he groaned and moaned your name the more you did it, occasionally biting him and licking over the spot immediately after. you asked him to sit up and he did so, moaning as you both were reaching your climax.

you pulled him into a kiss and he recirpocated, before going lower and kissing down your boobs again. your head rolled back as he sucked on your breast. "i-i'm close" "can i..", he looked at you now, "..inside you?". you smiled and kissed him again, "of course.", you whispered in his ear, "i'm all yours, baby". he threw his head back for the hundreth time tonight at your voice. it was angelic to him. and when you moaned, he felt like he would die right then and there.

you felt his dick twitch inside you, knowing he was close. "can you cum doux. inside me. please?", you asked, kissing his neck. he did as told and came inside you. you followed suit a few minutes later, arching your back as you hit your orgasm.

you removed yourself from him and sat on his thighs, he was still holding you up. "that was...something", he mumbled as he rested your foreheads together. "yeah..". you couldn't verbalize how great that was. were you selfish if you wanted more? maybe his tongue again. you had forgotten how good his tongue made you feel. but you knew you couldn't do anything for the next few minutes. your pussy was still wet, but swollen from everything you had done. besides, you couldn't just ask him, right?

you both sat in silence for a few minutes, still hugging each other and covered in a thin layer of sweat, even though the ac was on. he abruptly gave you a quick peck on the lips and said, "i'm gonna go to the bathroom okay?", you nodded and got off his lap. he put his pants back on and walked to the bathroom.

you threw yourself back on your head, facing the ceiling. you sighed heavily and closed your eyes, thinking about everything that took place, eyes shooting open when you recalled his tongue. that felt so good. the way he gripped your thighs tightly. the way his tongue circled in and around your clit. the way he parted your folds with his mouth. you didn't think you could get so wet this quickly, but you wanted it. you wanted him.

you reached down your stomach, grazing your hips, and your inner thighs. you sucked in a breath as your fingers reached your clit. you rubbed on your bud, whimpering a bit as you rubbed your thighs together. you were so wet that you could insert a finger with no problems, but that wasn't enough. you gripped the bedsheet above your head as you put in two more fingers, gasping slightly. your eyes closed, tightly as you arched your back again.

you pumped your fingers in and out the same way douxie had done and circled inside your pussy. you wanted to moan, so bad, but you didn't want him to hear you. you bit down on your lips, eyes rolling to the back of your hand as you touched yourself more. you were in a trance and moaned out, "fuck- doux.. mmh j..just like that..please". you were so close to your climax that you didn't even hear the bathroom door opening between your moans.

your eyes remained close and your toes curled as you were going to come again. "aah! mm-fuck!", you cried out as you hit your release. your knees started shaking as you lowered them. "fuck", you exhaled, opening your eyes. "thanks for the show, darling", you neck snapped in the direction of his voice. he was standing against your wall, leaning with his arms crossed. fuck he was hot. he was standing shirtless, in his suit pants.

your lowered your arms to cover your swollen pussy, dripping with your juices. "h-how long were you standing there?", he started walking towards you, "long enough". he stood at the foot of the bed again and dragged you close to him by your legs, leaning down to kiss the shell of your ear. "do you want me to touch you again?", he asked. you wanted to tell him off for staring at you, touching yourself. but fuck, you wanted him to touch you again. "y-yes please", you stuttered as he placed open mouthed kisses along your neck, going down to your collarbones.

"hm, how?", his voice rang through your ears as he kissed your breast, biting it slightly, going down to your rib cage. he made you a stuttering mess, "w..with your tongue...please, doux...i want⏤", a gasp escaped you as he started sucking on the inside of your thigh.

"whatever you want, my love", he gripped your thighs like he did before. his lips reached your pussy. still soaking and red. "w-wait doux. too s..soon", you tried saying but he started kissing your clit anyway. he hummed against your folds, the vibrations driving you crazy. "f..fuck doux. pl..please mmh~", you decided it was useless trying to retalliate so you just enjoyed it.

he made you feel so good. and he loved it. he looked up slightly to see your head thrown back, eyes closed, and back curved. he was doing this to you. he was making you feel this good. and he loved it. his tongue slipped in and out of your pussy, wet with cum and arousal.

he loved the taste of your slick. it tasted so sweet to him. you tasted so sweet to him. "fuck", he mumbled into your pussy, "you taste so good, baby".

"i'm c..cumming. d-doux w..w -ah!", he picked up the pace as he started sucking on your folds. the sound of wet skin slapping against his tongue filled the room."go on, love, cum", you did as told, reaching your climax for the fourth time because of him.

he kissed your clit one last time before raising his head. you lifted his chin and connected your lips together, quite forcefully, unconcerned with where his mouth was a few seconds ago.

this kiss was different than before. it was not filled with lust or longing, but with passion and understanding. you seperated and placed your heads together. "you're really good at that", you were the first to speak. he chuckled a bit before taking your hand from his face and planting a kiss to the back of it. "i'm glad you enjoyed it, y/n".

"y/n! can you come here?", you heard zoe's voice call you from her room. you laughed at douxie's horrified expression. "relax, she's not gonna kill you" "are you sure?" "well, she might when i tell her, but for now, no she won't. so i suggest leaving", you hand made a shooing motion.

he quickly put his shirt back on, only doing three buttons as your put on a new shirt and underwear. "just a minute, zo", you called out so she wouldn't get suspicious.

"what about my tie?", he asked, before going out the window again. "i'll give it to you tomorrow", you kissed him on the lips briefly, "now go!". he smiled and pecked your forehead before wishing you a good night and going out the same way he came in.

he was a great muse.

#douxie x reader #douxie x y/n #hisirdoux casperan x reader #tales of arcadia x reader #douxie imagine #tales of arcadia imagine #douxie casperan imagine #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #tales of arcadia #my writing #douxie kinda sorta smut #explore #fanfiction prompts #douxie smut #smut #hard hours

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punkshort · 10 days

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Remember the 10 likes and dislikes you did for sheriff!joel?, would you consider doing it for Pornstar!joel? <33

Ok YES I love this and it was such a great mental exercise for myself because as I was thinking about my answers I came up with a few ideas for future chapters so thank you very much for the inspo!

Let's dive in, shall we?

Likes:

1. The rain: he loves it when it rains. He's not sure why. Maybe it's the smell, maybe it's the sound, but he just loves it.

2. His family/mom: as we discovered in chapter two, Joel cares very much for Mama Miller. Both he and Tommy are mama's boys, through and through, and even if he brushes off her advice at the time, he definitely takes it to heart.

3. Weddings: he may not be a marriage guy himself, but he loves going to weddings. He loves a good party and just simply loves love. It makes him happy to see other people happy.

4. Pool: he's gotten pretty good at it over the years, especially since Tommy became a bartender. He's been hanging out and all sorts of bars, waiting for his brother to get off work, and he's gotten a taste for pool. He's even won a few bucks off some drunks when they try to test his skill.

5. Sundresses: at the end of the day, Joel is still a man. And if he sees a pretty girl in a sundress, he's going to look twice. He can't help himself. Something about the ease of access and the air of innocence really gets him going.

6. Board games: Joel is competitive. Blame it on Tommy, but he loves a good board game and he really really loves to win. Doesn't matter what it is, Monopoly or Candy Land, he will give it his all and he will get super pissed off if he loses.

7. Sleeping in: Alright, he usually works late hours sometimes and he likes to sleep in. There's nothing like waking up naturally, letting the sun seep through his curtains and slowly rouse him from his slumber, and even better if he has a warm body next to him in bed.

8. Driving: He loves driving. He's not really into cars, per se, but he likes the act of driving. The open road, windows down, radio up... perfection.

9. Breakfast: He might like to sleep in but he will eat breakfast any hour of the day. Pancakes and bacon are his weakness.

10. Classic rock: Anything from the 70s will make him happy. He knows just about every hit and every band. Doesn't really care too much about current music, his radio is always tuned to classic rock.

Dislikes:

1. Leather sofas: Ok, the leather sticks to his skin and he doesn't like it. It gets hot in Texas and he hates the feeling of his skin unpeeling from a leather couch when he gets up. It's especially terrible when trying to hook up with a girl - the sound, the feel... it just kills the mood.

2. Snobs: People who think they're better than him or his friends/family can go to hell. He really dislikes snobby people, rich people, people who treat others differently, people who think their shit doesn't stink - can't stand it.

3. Drugs: Unfortunately in his line of work, he's seen a lot of his coworkers get sucked into drugs. He doesn't mind weed, but the harder stuff he can't stand. He's been in a handful of situations where it was obvious to him the girl he was working with got way too high before filming and it completely ruined the vibe for him. He doesn't like the idea of girls feeling like they need to get messed up to fuck him, but that's a whole other situation.

4. Cooking: He's terrible at it. He typically orders food in, gets something from work or heats something up from the freezer. If you're helping him, however, that changes things...

5. Sage: He can't stand the scent. It's too overpowering and it reminds him of his aunt's house when he was younger. A house that was most definitely not designed for children and more like a museum, where his mother would constantly scold him and Tommy, making sure they didn't touch anything breakable.

6. Olives: They are slimy and taste awful, and he will not be fielding any more questions on the matter.

7. Fake nails: He doesn't care if girls have their nails done professionally but the really really long, sharp ones freak him out. Especially when a scene partner has them and they are wrapped around his dick. He's always afraid one is going to accidentally stab him somewhere way too sensitive.

8. Blood: Joel gets woozy at the sight of blood. He doesn't know why, it's always been that way and Tommy has teased him about it for years.

9. Ties: Absolutely despises dressing up and wearing ties. It feels like someone's lightly choking him all day when he has to wear one. If he absolutely must, he always tries to make it as loose as possible without looking sloppy.

10. Golf: Because all my Joels hate golf. For no particular reason at all.

#ask #anon ask #roommates fic #pornstar!joel

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allastoredeer · 19 days

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I discovered Just kiss Already after you uploaded part 3 and I have a question. So Part 1 is 1 chapter, Part 2 is 2 chapters, Part 3 is 3 chapters. When you say your writing "the next fic" do you mean like ALL of Part 4, which you then break down into chapters before you upload them or do you upload chapters individually as you complete them?

The fics themselves aren't so much chapters as they are a serialized collection of fanfics that have an overarching plot.

The reason I'm writing "Just Kiss Already" as a series instead of a multi-chaptered fic is because each fic has its own little mini plot inside it. Each of them are a mini story that's gradually building up the larger story at play.

I'm also keeping it as a series because I go back and forth between POV's a lot. Hopping between POV's in a multi-chaptered fic can work, but I usually like keeping them contained to a single POV. It makes it easier on me and the reader, so I don't have to clarify which character we'll be following in each chapter.

It's a collection of stories that are all linked together, kind of like a TV show, but you can totally view them as parts too.

"De-Lovely" is part 1 , "Holy Suffering" is part 2, and "Damage Control," is part 3.

I've actually split up the entire plot of "Just Kiss Already" into three different arcs (or three seasons if the TV analogy helped), each with their own theme. But I shall not tell you what they are, because that would be spoilers 😈

Sometimes, I don't intend for the fic to be split into multiple chapters, but if it gets bigger than I expected, I break it up because it's easier on me when I get to the editing stage. Editing one large chapter is so much harder than editing a couple small ones 😅

I hope you're enjoying the series! I'm very excited to get into the juicer bits of the story 😏

#I really didn't expect to even write Just Kiss Already #it sprang up on me #I just wanted to write a silly one shot of Lucifer finding Alastor cooking in the middle of the night #then I just wanted to add a silly addition about Lucifer finding Al and helping him heal #by then an actual plot started to build and I am such a sucker for plots #I have so much fun with them #i can resist a large expansive plot #they are my weakness #every fic I've done started this way #girl help the narrative is growing and I can't stop it #honestly I'm still hashing out a lot of details of the story #I'm building it as I go but I have plotted out a lot and I know where I ultimately how the plot will go #I'm very excited to get into all the juicy bits I have planned out hehehe #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #appleradio #radioapple #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #just kiss already #asks

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aristocratic-otter · 7 months

Text

Howdy y'all!

It seems like I can only find the wherewithal to post on Sunday these days. Please don't stop tagging me for Wednesdays, though! I have hope that I'll build up the free time for it again!

Thanks to @prettygoododds, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @larkral, @wellbelesbian, @artsyunderstudy, @nightimedreamersghost, @rimeswithpurple, @shemakesmeforget, @whatevertheweather, @ileadacharmedlife, @facewithoutheart, @cutestkilla and @alexalexinii for tagging me over the last couple of weeks!

First things first, To Heal A Broken Mind is in the homestretch, y'all! It ought to be done in the next two weeks, and then goes to my beta, and then I finally get to share it with @yellobb-old and the rest of the world! Here's a bit of softness from the final chapter:

“I love you!” I blurt, and then squeak and hide my face in his shoulder. But he doesn’t let me hide, just chuckles and lifts my head up so I’m facing him again. .

“I love you too,” he says solemnly, and I feel tears burn at the corner of my eyes. “But hold that thought. After tomorrow, say it to me again. And I’ll do the same. And we’ll start our new life…or, at least, my new life, with you in it. For good this time”

Westward Son is also on the downhill slide, both in the story and in the completion of it! I estimate that the final chapter will go up before November. Here's our crew getting to know a new friend:

Acorn knows where all sorts of forest gleanings may be had. He shows us berry bushes that still have ripe fruit, though chilled by the frost. He digs up squirrel hordes of acorns (his namesake, he chuckles), along with other nuts and seeds. And, while he is strictly a plant eater, he isn’t offended when we hunt the beasts of the forest. He even shows us the best places to set traps or string fishing lines.

When I ask him if he’s bothered by us eating meat in his presence, he’s philosophical. “Should I grow angry at the puma or the wolf because they consume the beautiful deer and rabbits? Their needs are not mine, and so I am content with eating differently from humans, because I am not human.”

The next chapter of Saving Simon Snow is coming soon, lol (and so is Simon) (warning for smutty snippet below):

It’s harder than you’d think to roll your eyes and sneer in disgust when the love of your life is rocking in and out of you, and you feel so full that you’re certain you’ll burst. But I put in the work.

“Consummated? You’re a moron, Snow,” I grumble, even as he steadily takes me apart.

He laughs. “I feel like you should call me Simon when I’m fucking you,” he says, panting.

“You’re a moron, Simon,” I repeat obediently.

Here's a little bit of tension from Snow Fox (next chapter also up in a day or two!)

Gareth comes into view, his pistol now pressed to the back of Malcolm Grimm’s head. “I tied up the Lieutenant, Sir. Shall I give the rest of these blackguards the same treatment?”

Forgive me, Baz.

“As you please,” I tell Gareth, keeping my tone light. “And no need to be gentle.”

From my CORB, The Heart in The Well, Baz is in a spot of trouble.

A sharp pain in my skull, and I found myself facing a hobgoblin. He was holding me up by my hair. Hobgoblins are related to goblins, but their skin is more greenish-grey than green, and they’re far uglier. But they eat people, just like their prettier cousins. I wondered if I was about to be their next meal.

I hoped they’d choke on me.

From what I am currently calling "Simon the TikTok Dancer" (which will absolutely not be its final name), try to guess who Simon's teacher is 😉

At least Snow’s obvious progress makes what I have to tell him tonight easier. I’ve been dreading it all day. San Diego State University starts up again on Monday, and so our dance season is over. I have to say good-bye to Snow, at least for the school year.

I indulge myself in watching him dance, not eager to bring down the mood already.

I can see spots where his control is rough, and areas where he needs more precision, but truly, he’s already beautiful to watch.

And finally, a little Simon and Baz bonding from Stars, Flowers, and Children:

Simon is bubbling over with excitement, and I can’t help being infected with his enthusiasm. The moment we reach the pond, he spins to face me with a wild grin and says, “We’ve found Blackbeard’s lagoon, Baz! His buried treasure must be nearby!”

I stare at him. What on Earth is he on about?

Simon’s smile fades a little. When he speaks again, it’s in a softer, more coaxing tone. “Come on Baz. Haven’t you ever played a game of make believe?”

Is that what this is? “I didn’t grow up around many other children,” I admit, stiffly.

Simon’s expression softens into something that looks very much like pity. It’s intolerable.

I'm actually posting well before midnight for once, so I'm going to tag generously. Welcome and join me if you'd like, friends!

@angelsfalling16, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @annabellelux, @bazzybelle, @bloodiedpixie, @bookish-bogwitch, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @captain-aralias, @cosmicalart, @confused-bi-queer, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @gekkoinapeartree, @giishu, @hushed-chorus, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @ileadacharmedlife, @j-nipper-95, @jbrrring, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @krisrix, @larkral, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @messofthejess, @melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @prettylightsbigcity, @palimpsessed, @sillyunicorn

#co/ws/awtwb #six sentence sunday #snowbaz #simon snow series #carry on through the ages #cotta 2021 #cotta 2023 #carry on reverse bang #oregon trail au #house au #blue lagoon au #american revolution au #canon divergence #forced marriage

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not-a-space-alien · 4 months

Text

K&J x MMSS 4: Valen & Jim Part 7

Part seven of the fourth crossover with @whumpsday!

K&J masterlist

MMSS masterlist

K&J x MMSS crossover masterlist

To be added to the taglist, contact @whumpsday

Warnings for this chapter: None

In this chapter:

***

Valen thinks about it over the next couple of days. He doesn't like making rush decisions.

He calls Jim every day, and every day he hears about how scared Jim gets at night. Jim tries to downplay it, and it still sounds horrible. He can hear the tiredness in both his and Liz's voices.

He barely knows Jim. He doesn't have to babysit Jim. He can't focus on the work that had seemed so important last week.

He starts getting mail from Priscus. A picture of a cat, saying it's his if he comes back to the estate. Sent directly to Valen's supposedly secret address. The wording in his communications is getting more insistent.

He calls Jim and says he'd like to move in with him and Liz, if such a thing is still agreeable to them.

Jim jumps on the offer ecstatically. "Of course it's still agreeable! We'd love to have you! Come on over!"

Valen regretfully tells his landlord he's breaking the lease. He's not attached to any of the furniture. He packs up his books, his lab equipment, his clothes, the blood he has on hand. His stash of valuables he'd taken from the Kithrara estate. Priscus will surely demand those back as soon as he's no longer in denial that Valen isn't coming back, and wasn't just "borrowing" them. Which will likely happen when he finds out Valen is now living in human territory, at which point he'll be out of reach even to the Kithrara family's manipulation tactics. He needs his ill-gotten goods to save himself from having to work a job. He’s capable of it, he simply doesn't want to and tells himself his research project is more important.

His things aren't too heavy to carry, but they are a little bulky. He buys a cheap car. It's even harder to drive. He's already shunted his previous car off onto Jim to be rid of it. There are no rentals that will allow him to return it in human territory. He may just abandon it on the side of the road when he's done with it. Having money has let him turn to being wasteful as a coping method for his anxiety.

He loads up all his things and stops at the store to get a generous supply of blood packs. He puts them in a cooler and drives straight to Liz and Jim's house.

Jim runs out to give him a tackle-hug as soon as Valen arrives. It's the first time he's been outside at night since Valen took him to the store. "I missed you."

Valen lets himself be pummeled by the hug. Why had he ever left this? What could be more important than this? "I missed you too."

Liz follows. "Welcome back, roomie. Lemme help you with your stuff."

When Liz starts to carry his things, he untangles himself from Jim. "Please, please allow me. It's much easier for me, don't trouble yourself. Where shall I put them?"

Liz waves him off. "I can carry shit no problem."

"We cleared out the extra room. We can still share a bed and stuff, but that way you've got your own space to put all your stuff," Jim says. "Hey, you wanna see something fucked up?"

"Stop showing it to everyone who comes over," Liz admonishes.

Valen's eyes widen. "Oh dear. What is it?"

Jim strips his shirt and turns around. His back is covered in bullseye rashes, like someone stained his skin with red watercolor. "I got Lyme disease."

Liz rolls her eyes. "Put your shirt back on."

"I feel like crap, but it looks kinda cool!" Jim insists. "'Fore you ask, already saw the doctor, already on meds for it."

"Oh dear!" Valen cries, "I hope it clears up quickly." Jim has been showing his bare back to "everyone who comes over"...? For some reason, the thought of more humans coming over to the house where he now lives hadn't really occurred to him. It's really scary, for some reason, to be surrounded by humans. "Who, um, who have you been showing this to?"

"Laken. Friends who I haven't seen since before. Plus a reporter. They wanna put me on TV," Jim brags.

Jim is going to be on TV. What is Valen going to do when more humans keep showing up here? He starts to second guess his decision. Can he really live here, in human territory? Everyone here except a small group of Jim's connections will see him as a dangerous and hateful animal, or a curiosity at best. "Ah," he says nervously. "Just, just give me ample warning before that happens so, so I don't also get on TV."

Jim puts his shirt back on. "Oh hey, yeah, of course. It'd be during the day, and not here. And you know, they were asking about the story of how I escaped, and that's all you. You're like a hero. But if you don't want me to go on, I won't. You feeling comfortable here's more important."

"Well, you can–I don't want to limit you. You deserve to tell everyone your story. I'm just nervous as to what it could bring if, if the spotlight comes on me at all." He rubs his arm. "Thank you for calling me a hero, but there are probably people out there who would think that doesn't matter."

"Well, I think it matters," Jim protests.

"I made sure all the hunters in this district know you're with us. You won't run into any trouble here," Liz assures him.

"I'll make sure to keep you out of the spotlight," Jim says.

Liz pats the trunk. "Hey, open it up so I can start helping."

They unload Valen's stuff, and he shyly asks if there's somewhere he can have space to set up his lab equipment so he can continue working on his project.

"Wherever there's room, go for it," Liz says, gesturing around the house. "Kitchen, living room, Mom and D–your room. Wherever you wanna set up.”

He catches the slip up in what Liz calls the room, and figures that given all the clues, Liz and Jim's parents must have passed away. "Was that your parent's bedroom?" Valen asks. "I'm sorry. Thank you for sharing it with me. Are you quite comfortable with me using it?" Part of him is afraid they're about to tell him their parents were killed by vampires.

"Yeah. Better that someone's using it." Jim says. "It's been... almost ten years, now. Time kinda gets away from you, huh."

"Mm-hm." Liz looks away. She doesn't like talking about it.

"My condolences. Well, I'm glad the two of you have each other now, at least."

"Yeah. And now we got you, too." Jim smiles at him.

Valen eventually decides to set up his lab in the living room, liking the idea of being out in the open where anyone can come ask about what he's doing, to give him an opportunity to gush. He does make note that he'll have to carefully label anything that comes in contact with the mushrooms, since they're dangerous to humans.

Things are alright for a while. Jim is a lot less paranoid than he was when Valen was hundreds of miles away, and the hunter that shot at Valen comes over briefly to apologize and thank him for bringing Liz's brother back.

Valen is touched that all the vampire hunters and miscellaneous humans around accept him so easily. Despite his good deed, he'd expected much more pushback and more suspicion. But everyone is just being nice to him. It's refreshing, and not at all what he expected.

Jim has trouble re-meshing with his old friend group: they've grown into different people in their time apart. But he has Liz and Valen, so he's okay. Laken takes a liking to Valen. Valen likes Laken a lot; they're bold and curious and don't take themselves too seriously.

Valen encourages Jim to get in touch with his old friends, but he himself has lost most of his old friends and he knows how difficult that can be when things have just changed. He encourages Jim not to let it get him down, and reminds him he'll have plenty of opportunities to make new friends down the road.

The hunters in the area know to leave Valen alone. Valen goes back to vampire territory every once in a while to get more blood, and occasionally other supplies he can't seem to get on this side of the border. He generally dislikes being in vampire territory, though, because of his own paranoia about being found. He avoids anyone who might have even tangential connections to his husband's family, not even telling his own family where he went. He misses them, a little, but he can't bring himself to be too sad about cutting them off. Talking to them usually only earned him misgendering and scolding.

Jim and Liz argue about her returning to work. Jim doesn't want her to, he's terrified for her safety, but Liz insists that this is her calling and she needs to protect people, and that Laken will get themself killed without her. Jim does end up conceding, begrudgingly, since he can't actually stop her.

Valen agrees with Jim that vampire hunting is dangerous, but he reminds Jim it's a noble profession that needs to be done to protect humans. He offers to start escorting Liz on hunts to help ensure her safety, but he sees the look on Jim's face at the thought of the consequences of that possibility: either he will be alone at night, or he'll have to come as well. Valen retracts the offer in front of Jim, but then later privately reoffers to Liz.

Liz declines Valen's offer for now, but thanks him and says maybe they can try that when Jim's more stable. Honestly, she's worried about Jim being alone at night, too. She already lost him once.

Jim sleeps in Valen's room. He's loathe to be apart from him for very long: not just because he likes being around Valen, but also because of a creeping feeling of danger he gets whenever they're apart. He's not coping as well as he'd like to think he is.

Valen gets more comfortable around Jim and the idea of another relationship, in whatever form that will be. They are both dealing with different kinds of trauma, and unfortunately they are creeping into territory where it's very easy to trigger Valen, sleeping next to each other and being affectionate. Jim has Valen to get him through his bad episodes, but for Valen, Jim is usually the cause of those episodes, which Valen tries to hide to spare his feelings. He knows logically that Jim can't overpower him, but the wounds of being overpowered are deep, and it's all he can do not to slide into learned helplessness rather than speak up about his feelings. He's less afraid of being physically dominated and more of the emotional side: Priscus had been kind early on in their marriage, and then had gradually lost patience and gotten more and more condescending and pushy. What if the same thing happened with Jim? Jim could start being less considerate, less respectful, and whatever positive emotions he'd been experiencing would be gone and their memories tainted. It felt fragile, just as safety did for Jim, the shared fear of being treated as an object manifesting in different ways for both of them.

He thinks that if Jim one day started telling him how to cut his hair or dictating what he could wear, he would never recover enough to trust anyone with his heart again.

Valen occasionally makes comments to Jim along the lines of "Thank you for allowing me to wear trousers," which probably strikes Jim just as weirdly as the occasional relapse Jim has where he begs and promises to be good strikes Valen and Liz.

It feels good. No one is too pushy. Everyone is just concerned about keeping each other happy and safe.

***

@barebarb

@cc1010foxy

@emcscared-whumps

@gt-daboss

@hurtpluscomfort

@jakersdaboss

@lolrpop

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@pigeonwhumps

@secretwhumplair

@some-thrilling-heroics

@t0rture-me

@thecyrulik

@thejinglingcourtjester

@vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff

@whuarri

@whump-cravings

@whump-my-heart-away

@whumpycries

@wolfeyedwitch

@whump-addict

@why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

#whump #K+J #angst #whumpblr #hurt/comfort

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lestappenforever · 7 months

Note

Max watching tit streamers anon here (I shall sign as 🍒 anon)

During quarantine, Max broke up with his then girlfriend Dilara. And well, ig he did need to fill an need of his so he went ahead and followed a bunch of insta models and also started watching tit streamers on twitch (idk if that's the proper term for them but yk they were "gamer" girls wearing some rather suggestive clothing).

People learnt about his endeavors on Twitch because he would comment stuff on these girls' streams and even make donations (i remember him making a donation and commenting sth abt the girl using the money to buy a simulator(?)) Our boy is not that creative with usernames so everyone could more or less understand it was him.

Now it's fair to mention that at the time Max had created an account on Twitch, which he streamed on, however quickly gave up on it. Plus he didn't use this account to comment on these girls' streams. He did so from his burner (?) account

When people found out they started pointing out his comments on Twitter and tumblr and I remember there being a post where they mentioned that Max had once wrote in some girl's that was wearing glasses chat that she looks like a "sexy teacher". The next day Charles had a stream and it was one of the first times he wore his glasses on stream, so some people considered it to be a funny coincidence (or not just coincidence we may never know👀)

Part 2:

🍒 anon again

"Regarding that particular stream Charles did (where he locked his now-ex gf out of the apartment) we have no clue whether Max watched it or not.

What we do know, though, is that Max liked Charles' tweet about it.

I remember lestappies in 2020 (that I'm pretty sure could be counted on like one hand), we were having a field day with it.

It was actually rather interesting that Max liked Charles' tweet given that this was back when they didn't use to be as close and used Lando as their messenger, as well as the fact that they do not follow each other on Twitter.

So this did raise the question as to how Max found out abt this tweet, but most concluded that he found out because Lando had interacted with it.

Really, lestappen and their relationship with each other back in the 2020 quarantine period is quite an overlooked chapter of their story, and it's filled with such small moments worth mentioning"

YOU CAME BACK! Thank fuck.

Okay, so during quarantine I was working retail in a grocery store and had to work harder and longer days than I had ever done in my life (and let me tell you, being an essential worker during the pandemic was exhausting), so I must have missed the comments on women's streams altogether. But I am so glad to have you, 🍒 anon, to fill me in on little things I might have missed over the years!

The 2020 quarantine era of Lestappen is definitely overlooked because there are so many gems like this that should get more attention. And Lando being the Lestappen carrier pigeon during this time is just one of those glorious gems.

Thank you so much for this, 🍒 anon! ❤️

#Asks #Anon asks #Lestappen asks #Lestappen dynamics anons #🍒 anon

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verai-marcel · 5 months

Text

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 8 of ?)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

AO3 Link is here, my dear.

Word Count: 4287

————————————

Act I, Chapter 8 - The Mountain

Lae’zel was waiting under an archway in the middle of the path. Wyll wordlessly handed over her backpack as she rejoined the party, seamlessly taking point as everyone continued up the path that veered west. You followed the others up the trail, silently thinking about your next move. Should I stay or should I go?

Along the way, you found a trader to offload some of the random wares you had collected, but she also asked for what amounted to a baby for experimentation. So you just quickly bartered your useless items and went along your way, while the others held Lae’zel back from slashing the trader’s throat open.

As the sun began to set behind the hills, you reached a cable car and a rusty wheel.

“We shall cross and set up camp on the other side,” Lae’zel commanded, pointing to what seemed to be a defensible cliffside.

“I would agree to that plan, if we could get this contraption to work,” Gale said as he poked the prodded at the wheel. “There must be something around here to unlock it, a lever or mechanism…”

Karlach walked up to it, took one look, and yanked at the wheel with all her mighty strength, forcing it to turn. There was a moment’s pause before the cable car finally creaked along, echoing off the cliffs below.

“Got it!” she said happily.

“Ah. Right,” Gale said, frowning for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. “Well, at least we can cross now.”

You got onto the cable car and rode it across the chasm. Looking out at the landscape, bathed in the crimson light of the setting sun, you sighed. It was getting harder and harder to leave now. How would you navigate back to the River Chionthar on your own?

At least for now, you had this lovely landscape to stare at while you figured out your next move.

You glanced over at your companions, who were being uncharacteristically quiet as they, too, admired the view. Looking at each of them in turn, you wondered when you had begun to care for them on a deeper level. Your eyes lingered on Astarion for just a moment longer than the rest.

His eyes flickered over at you. Catching your gaze, he smiled knowingly.

Ah shit, he caught me.

Quickly looking away, you stared out at the canyon again. You had to admit, he was rather lovely with the waning sunlight against his skin, his hair perfectly in place despite having a full day of traveling behind him. If he just stayed quiet and didn’t spit out unwarranted flattery every two seconds, you might have thought him attractive.

Why do my eyes keep gravitating towards him?

You worried about him, more so than the others. You thought about his behavior and wondered what you could do to help him. You cared.

You closed your eyes. When the fuck did that happen?

Taking a deep, slow breath, you opened your eyes and stared out at the landscape once more, clearing your mind until you arrived at the other side. You followed the others down the hillside to a nice little area that had a partially ruined stone building and an old, gnarled tree that overlooked the canyons below. As you began to set up the spot for the campfire, everyone else picked a spot for their tents and started setting up.

Seeing Astarion fumble the parts of his tent, you went over to help. He seemed a little less experienced than the others in such things.

"Mind where you face the tent," he said without looking at you as he tried to hide how much he was struggling with the poles. "I don't like having the sunlight hit me straight in the eyes in the morning."

You took the poles from his hands and deftly put everything together. Of course you knew how to set up a tent properly. Who the hell did he think you were?

But when you caught the small smirk on his face, you knew immediately he was just pulling your chain, and in your infinite maturity, you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Careful darling. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

You immediately put your tongue back in your mouth and scowled.

You quickly finished helping him so you could prepare a meal with some of the camp supplies. You snacked on some of the cured meats and cheeses as you cooked, so that by the time everyone was done with their own tents and had gathered around the campfire, you were mostly full. After serving up the meal, you excused yourself to prep everyone's tents with your various spells, giving the excuse that it was getting late. You could see them all at the campfire, hearing them discuss their next move, along with some friendly banter as well.

You were a bit surprised to see Astarion lingering at the campfire. He usually left before a meal, not returning until everyone else had fallen asleep. You could hear him being smarmy and charming, eliciting laughter from the others.

Guess he finally decided to open up.

Or, perhaps, the whole group had grown closer while you weren't there. Seemed like a natural thing, after all. They only really saw you in the evenings when they came back from their adventuring. The rest of the day, they spent with each other. Sure, you've had a day here and there with some of them when they guarded the camp, but that didn't make up for the time they had spent together.

You suddenly felt very alone.

As you finished Shadowheart's tent, you could hear her walking towards you. She had a naturally quiet step, neither ambling like Wyll's nor quick like Lae'zel's. You turned to her, just in time to catch her reaching out to you. You forced yourself not to flinch like you had with Gale.

Her hand landed lightly on your shoulder, a feather touch. "Are you alright? You seem a bit down."

You smiled. Since you had come across her first, Shadowheart held a special place in your memories. She had been so prickly at first, but you had been insistent in treating her. Now, you'd almost consider her a friend, if only she didn’t seem so distant all the time.

"I… I'm not sure if I should stay," you confessed. Turning to her, you saw her shocked expression, but you continued. "I'm a liability. I'll just hold everyone up when we're traveling. I can't fight, I can't jump very far, I can't—“

Shadowheart shook your shoulder once. You hadn’t realized that you were starting to breathe faster with your rant. "You're not a liability,” she said. "You—"

She let go of you and took a small step back. "We like coming back to you at the end of the day. It makes getting through every battle, every setback, so much easier knowing that we can come back to you for a hot meal and a nice, warm tent.” A soft smile spread across her face. “You make camp feel like home."

You couldn’t help but smile back. You were touched.

"And you've been so accepting of all of us, and our… quirks,” she continued. “You truly are special, you know that, right?"

Deciding to keep your self-deprecating thoughts to yourself, you replied, “I’m grateful for the compliment.”

She nodded, then looked at you seriously. “But if you ever do feel like you’re in danger with us, we’ll understand if you want to leave. Don’t feel any pressure to stay.”

A little too late to say that. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Patting your shoulder, she left you to your thoughts as you finished the rest of the tents.

***

After cleaning up for the evening, you went over to the outcrop that overlooked the canyon below. The moonlight lit up the forest below, and cast a silvery glow on the ruins behind you. Sitting beneath the tree, you wondered if your voice would echo off the cliffs.

"Perhaps I shouldn't," you mumbled to yourself.

"Shouldn't what?"

You turned to see Gale walking up to you. He plopped himself down on the soft grass beside you.

"I was wondering if my voice would echo down there, but that might attract things we don't want."

"A wise decision, although you could try it when we leave this place. For knowledge's sake."

You grinned. Of course. Anything for the sake of knowledge.

The two of you sat quietly, enjoying the scenery, but you knew it wouldn’t last long.

“So, how long did you live in Waterdeep?”

There it was. You debated how much to tell him. “A few years,” you answered vaguely.

“Ah.” A few more moments passed in silence. “I get the feeling if I ask anything more, you’ll give me increasingly ambiguous answers until you feign tiredness and head off to bed.”

You smiled. “You understand me so well.”

“I’d like to think after the time we’ve spent together that I understand you a bit better than when we first met.” He was smiling at you, and though you wanted to brush his hand to get an idea of what he was feeling, you decided it might give the wrong impression. So you refrained and just nodded.

“I have a tower in Waterdeep, you know,” he said, filling the silence. “You’re welcome to visit, if—”

Gale suddenly doubled over, gripping his chest.

“Gale!”

He held out his hand. “I’m alright. I just…” His words stopped as he took a deep breath. He was clearly in pain.

Debating if you should diagnose him, you watched as he grimaced and leaned back, taking in deep breaths of the cold mountain air. Dammit, I have to know. You took off one glove and reached for him. As your hand covered his hand over his chest, you felt as if your very soul was getting sucked in. You quickly pulled away, but you already felt a slight drain, as if threads of magic had been dragged out of you.

“What… what in the hells…” you muttered.

He looked up at you, surprised as you were. Taking another breath, he straightened himself. “I… I seem to be a bit better.” He looked up at you. “This has never happened before.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Gale looked apologetic. “Well, I should say I’ve never absorbed the Weave straight from another person before.”

Your eyes widened. As he explained himself, he admitted that he had been ‘eating’ the less useful magical artifacts that the party had been collecting, and he also confessed that lately, it hadn’t been as effective.

“That’s the reason I came to talk to you. Granted, I did procrastinate a bit.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“The rest of the party knows about my… condition.” He sighed. “I told them the other day while we were coming back from the goblin camp. Thankfully, they have decided to let me stay. But you…” He held his hand out to you. “You should know what happened, so you can make the choice. If you want me to go.”

You gave him your gloved hand. He held it to his chest, and you saw his memory. But with his magic intertwining with yours, you also felt his memories on a deeper level, even without direct skin contact. You wanted to both slap him and give him a hug after seeing it all.

“So. I’m a walking time bomb,” he said after he let go of your hand. “I understand if you don’t feel safe. Tell me to leave. I won’t be offended. It’d be the wisest choice, honestly.”

It was hard to make that kind of decision looking at his sad face. You turned back to the canyon and stared up at the moon.

You suddenly had a thought. Turning back to him, you asked, “Can I try something?”

He tipped his head quizzically. “Sure?”

You took a deep breath and hummed a melody of moonlight, letting the silvery strands of magic float around you, creating a soft scarf made of ephemeral threads. Slowly moving your hands, you directed the gossamer garment straight to Gale’s chest.

The symbol on his chest glowed as it absorbed it directly. He gasped.

“Did it work?” you asked. “Do you feel better?”

“You… how…” Gale touched his chest in wonder. “No one else has made that work.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just had a hunch.”

He smiled softly at you. “Well, I greatly appreciate it.” He paused, as if he was about to ask you something, then thought better of it.

“I think you should stay,” you said after a few moments. “After all, it would seem that my magic will help you, o great wizard of Waterdeep.”

He chuckled. “Indeed, it does.” Giving you a slight bow, he thanked you and went back to his tent.

You wondered if it was wise to use your power in this way. Your mother would have probably told you it was a bad idea. After some research into your peculiar magic, a wizard could figure it out. They’d know where your magic came from. After all, that’s how you were discovered after the raid on your village.

Stretching your back and yawning, you headed back to your bedroll. You were tired after feeding a wizard some magic, and you still needed to feed another.

I’m feeding people in all kinds of weird ways.

***

1489 DR, Three Years Ago

It had taken a year, but you had escaped from Waterdeep and made it to Baldur’s Gate. Covering your tracks, you had traveled in an unusual pattern in an attempt to throw off anyone who might be tailing you. Not that you thought anyone really would; after all, you had just been a mere servant of one of the masked lords of Waterdeep. You were pretty sure he didn’t even know that you knew his identity.

But ‘pretty sure’ and ‘absolutely sure’ were two separate things.

You were looking at a map of the surrounding area, deciding what small village to start your new life, when you noticed a man looking at you from across the road.

A tingling on the base of your spine made you pay attention. You started to walk back to the flophouse, keeping your wits about you.

The man continued to appear out of the corner of your eye in various locations as you walked back from the lower city towards Wyrm’s Crossing.

What in the hells?

Instead of heading into the flophouse, you continued past it towards Rivington, hoping to make the man believe you were heading into the village beyond. You made a wide circle and slipped in and out of alleys until you didn’t see him anywhere for a good thirty minutes. The sun was beginning to set and soon the taverns would be streaming with folks looking to drown their sorrows or talk a poor sap out of the shirt off their back.

Thinking yourself safe, you headed back to the flophouse. There were a few people around the lobby, and you weaved past them all to head up the stairs to your bed for the night.

Turning the corner, you saw the man, sitting on your bed. Before you could turn and run, he leapt up and grabbed your wrist. He had no killing intent, but he definitely felt malicious.

“Don’t bother tryin’ ta run, sweetie. I paid the landlord to ignore anything ‘appening up ‘ere.”

That money grubbing arsehole. You tugged at your arm. “What do you want with me?”

“The lord put out a bounty on your ‘ead, alive only.”

Son of a bitch thinks I’m still useful. Well, that’s a relief. Better than dead. “Can’t have been worth much.”

“Barely worth the time. More of a ‘if you see ‘er, grab ‘er’ kind of bounty. And ‘ere you are.” He patted the dagger on his belt. “So ‘ow’s about you come quietly, and I don’t cut yer pretty little face.”

You swallowed. “F-fine,” you stammered. His grip slid up to your shoulder, and he pushed you out of the room and down the stairs. The proprietor glanced at you and quickly looked away. The other people in the lobby avoided eye contact, not wanting to get involved.

Of course. No one helps when it’s not their problem.

Darkness had fallen on the city, and with it, the ability to be seen clearly. You waited until he had marched you further and further away from the buildings, before you started to hum.

“What’re you singin’, sweetheart?”

You didn’t stop humming.

He shook your arm. “Answer me, wench.”

You looked at him, dead in the eye, and kept humming.

His own eyes began to droop. “‘Ey, what…” He shook his head, but it was no use. “Yer tryin’ somethin’ tricksy, aren’t ya?” he slurred as he let go of your shoulder and clumsily pulled out his dagger.

You immediately grabbed his fist with both hands, turned the dagger towards him, and slammed your whole body into him. Your humming wavered slightly, but you continued. You had to, otherwise he’d regain his strength.

“You… bitch…” the man gurgled as his weight began to fall forward, his forehead touching your exposed skin above the neckline of your shirt. You staggered backward as the shockwave of death from him spilled into you. Gasping for air as if you had been the one stabbed, you kept pushing to make sure the dagger went in deep.

When you felt him start to push against you, you resumed humming like a madwoman, desperately trying to keep the spell intact.

The man let out one last groan as he succumbed to both his injury and your sleep song. You let him fall to the ground as you side-stepped out of the way, stumbling and falling to your knees. Clutching your chest, you attempted to catch your breath past the agony in your chest. It felt like a white-hot slicing pain shooting through your entire torso, your heart pounding a hundred miles a second as if it wanted to make a rapid exit from your body.

Gods, it fucking HURTS. No wonder Mother told me never to hurt anyone.

You felt your stomach roil and rumble before you quickly turned away and emptied out what little contents you had, coughing and spitting for a while before you felt like you could breathe normally again.

I never, EVER want to do that again.

Looking at the corpse, you gathered your courage and pulled the dagger out of the man’s body, flung the blood away, and cleaned it on his armor like you had seen guards do in the past. Then you turned towards the east, stumbling away into the night, away from Baldur’s Gate.

You sure as hell didn’t want to be here when the guards found the body.

***

1492 DR, Present Day

You were grateful when the light chime of your alarm bell, coupled with a soft hoot, and the padding of multiple sets of feet woke you up. You could still smell the tang of blood and the taste of bile in your memories, and reached for your canteen of water to wash it away before getting up.

Astarion had returned, and to your surprise, he seemed a bit unsteady on his feet. You headed towards him, watching him feed scraps of a dead animal to Scratch and the owlbear cub.

“There you go Owly,” he slurred as he gave the cub another bone with decent chunks of meat. “Grow up nice and strong so you can bring me back something fresh.”

"You're naming him Owly?"

"And why not?"

"No reason. Just a bit surprised by how… cute, it sounds." You watched as he staggered towards his tent, clearly buzzed. Out of worry, you followed after him. "Are you drunk?"

"I have drunk," he slurred. "A whole bear. Not a beer. Hah."

You stared at the blood on his shirt. “Erm, your sleeves—”

"He took some of my blood, and I took all of his."

His usually perfectly coiffed hair was disheveled and his clothes were bedraggled. You kept following him until he was about to open the flap to his tent. He paused, then turned around to stare at you. "Need something?"

You shook your head. "No, I… I was just checking on you. Do you need anything from me?"

He smiled. "I am well fed tonight. But I still need you." He leaned in closer and reached out to lightly caress your arm. You felt nothing through his touch.

He's doing it again. Sighing, you looked at him for a moment longer. Maybe he was just lonely. “Would you like me to spend some time with you?”

"Oh, a bit more forward tonight, are you?" He opened the tent flap and gestured for you to enter.

Rolling your eyes, you entered the tent and plopped down on the ground. You patted the bedroll in front of you. “Sit, please.”

“Will you climb into my lap?”

You sighed. "Just sit down, please."

Frowning, Astarion sat down next to you, his movements still smooth and graceful. Clearly he wasn't that drunk.

Now that you were here, you weren’t sure what to do. As you glanced around his tent, you saw the brush on top of his pile of books and suddenly had an idea.

“Can I brush your hair?”

He cocked his head in confusion, like a puppy.

"Your hair is a mess," you explained, gesturing at his head.

He immediately reached up and started to run his fingers through his hair. In his inebriated state, he was only making it worse.

You grabbed the brush and scooted around so that you were behind him. “Let me take care of it, please.”

He turned his head to look at you for a moment before he faced forward again so you couldn’t see his expression. “If that’s what you want,” he mumbled.

You got up on your knees and began to run the brush through his hair, picking out bits of twigs and fur. "So, how did the bear taste?”

He shrugged. “Like a bear, I suppose.”

“I’m impressed that you can differentiate the flavor. I've tasted boar's blood and my own. They don't seem dissimilar to me.”

He turned his head toward you, a slightly haughty look on his face. “My palate is on a different level, darling. I can taste the life essence within, like a seasoning. A bear just exists. It doesn't think, it doesn't lament, it doesn't dream. But it has a lot of life, so…” He gestured dismissively with his hand. “I suppose it’s like drinking a cheap ale. Doesn’t taste great, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

You watched his expression change, hooded eyes and a sultry smile blooming on his lips. “But you, you must have the loveliest dreams, because your blood tastes like a rich liqueur."

He’s clearly just making shit up. “I thought you said it tasted like honey wine.”

“That was the first time. It changes, probably depending on your emotions. But there's always a sweetness to your flavor.” He turned his body towards you and leaned in closer, looking into your eyes like some fawning sycophant.

You ignored him, moving your attention to his torn and dirty sleeves. Unable to brush his hair since he was facing you, you cast prestidigitation to remove the dirt and blood from his sleeves.

“Did you enjoy your meal?” you asked after a while.

“It’s nothing compared to, well, other things I could be dining on. Bears are certainly better than the rats and bugs Cazador served me.”

You gasped. A rat would certainly not have enough blood, a bug even less so. You fumed, irrationally angry on his behalf. "I would kick him in the balls for making you go hungry," you hissed in anger.

Astarion looked taken aback by your outburst. But then he laughed. “You? Kicking him in the balls?” He laughed more. “That would be a sight.”

You chuckled with him. “Glad I could entertain you. Now turn back around so I can finish with your hair.”

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” But he obeyed your command. Quietly, you worked through his hair, pulling out the last bit of debris and brushing it all back into place. Scooting around him, you took his sleeves into your hands and began to hum your mending cantrip. After a few minutes, you noticed out of the corner of your eye that he had relaxed. His eyes drooped, as if he were going into a trance state.

Out of curiosity, you brushed his hand. You could feel a faint emotion coming through. It was muddled, like a thought struggling to come to the surface.

Well, at least he isn’t shielding so hard anymore.

You finished mending his sleeves and pulled away.

His eyes shot open.

Not a word was spoken, but you had a funny feeling from his expression that he wanted you to stay. You touched his hand.

Nothing again. Oh well. “Do you need anything else?”

He looked away. “No, I’m fine.”

He isn’t fine. But you had no choice. If he wasn’t going to ask, you couldn’t force him. You wouldn’t force him. “Alright. Then have a good night.”

He began to lean forward, then stopped himself.

Oh, you poor, touch-starved soul. You leaned in and pressed your forehead against his. “Sweet dreams,” you murmured.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

The last thing you felt as you pulled away from him and left his tent was a lingering emotion, one that was hard to describe. But you knew that it pulled at your heart and made you want to stay.

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

Chapter 8 End notes: My chapter word count is just all over the place now, haha. Thanks for reading! And if possible, please help spread my fic out into the world by reblogging, I'd greatly appreciate it. ICYMI: I did a couple of sketches of Hearth Witch's outfits here.

Let me know if you want me to tag you every time I post a new chapter! Tag List: @numblytemporary

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion #astarion x f!reader #slow burn #female reader #baldur's gate 3 #writing #bg3 spoilers #your hearth is my home

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 8 days

Text

Taking Comfort (In Your Arms) - Chapter 2

Two Weeks Later - May 28, 1943

The last two weeks Bucky Egan had been on base were ones that were unlike the previous 8 weeks Addie had been in East Anglia. The base seemed to be flipped upside down just by his presence alone.

She usually found him nightly in a local pub, singing alongside the locals as he made ridiculous bets and talked crap. She watched in fascination as he charmed the locals, with stories and tales of his past life in America. There were at least three girls chasing him, by her count, all enamored by the American.

And Addie tried to keep him out of her mind but it was becoming more and more difficult, especially between him randomly showing up to her office and Josie’s constant chatter about him.

“I’m telling you, Ads, you should just ask him out.” Josie called out, interrupting Addie’s mid-morning mind wandering session.

Scoffing, she paused on the report she was reading and looked up at Josie. “It’s not right for a girl to ask a guy out. Besides, he has charmed half of East Anglia and I’m sure his social calendar has all filled up.”

“Who is this mysterious man you’re talking about? And I very much doubt his social calendar is all filled. I’m sure he has a spot for you waiting for you, love.” Speaking of the devil, he shall arrive, causing both Josie and Addie both to yelp in surprise.

Looking behind her, Addie’s eyes narrowed at the very man Josie was referencing. “Jesus, wear a bell or something. At least let people know you’re lurking around.”

“Not my fault you didn’t hear the door slam. I mean I wasn’t exactly quiet.” Bucky grinned looking at the two women. “Now who’s the mystery man Addie should ask out? By the way, I think it’s great if a girl asks a guy out - takes the pressure off the fella.”

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “You’re going to have to work harder than that to find out Bucky. Now how can I help you?”

Taking a seat in the chair in front of her deck, he crossed his right leg over his left and plopped his hat down giving her a look, sighing. “I need your help. I’m getting nowhere with the Brits loaning us masks and parachutes so I was hoping you could help?”

Josie snickered as Addie sighed. They both had a love-hate relationship with the nearby British base. “I will warn you, depending on the day they might hate me too.”

“They couldn’t hate a beautiful girl if they tried, Captain.” Addie snorted this time as Josie laughed out loud. “What am I missing?”

Josie pipped up before Addie could. “They can when our girl flat out turns one of them down spectacularly in the local pub, Major.”

“That’s a story I look forward to hearing, Captain.” Bucky chuckled, scratching his jaw. “Can you help a poor guy out who’s boys land in two weeks?”

She sighing, giving him a calculated look. “I need numbers, Major. How many masks and parachutes do you need before your men arrive?”

Watching Bucky run numbers in his mind, was a sight to behold. His teeth had hold of his bottom lip as she could see the gears moving behind his eyelids. His concentrated look wasn’t one Addie saw very often on his face, but she added it to her growing list of favorite Bucky looks. “We’ve gotten 200 of the 1000 that were sent. If we could get an additional 300 before my guys arrive, we’ll be in good shape while we wait for our stuff to arrive, hopefully a few days after the boys arrive.”

Looking at the pouty face of Major Bucky Egan, Addie couldn’t help but melt at his face. He hadn’t figured it out yet, but she was a sucker for a pouty face on a man. It tested her resolve and before she knew it she was picking up the phone to make a call.

She watched Bucky lean back into his chair as she attempted to work her magic. Doodling on a spare piece of paper that was always present on her desk, she waited for the line to connect, hoping it wasn’t the Lieutenant she turned down answering the phone. An older voice came on the line as she grinned. “Colonel Masters, this is Captain Adelaide Baker calling from Thorpe Abbotts. I was hoping you could assist me with a request from Colonel Baker.”

She listened to the man wax on about her father and the great things he had heard. Rolling her eyes, she sat back in her chair, getting comfortable. “Colonel, we need 300 masks and parachutes for the Americans that are set to land in two weeks. Their equipment hasn’t arrived yet.”

Grumbling, the man on the other side of the phone said a few words before agreeing to have the equipment sent over by the end of the week. She wished him a good day and hung up the phone with a grin on her face. “Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, Major. Everything will be here by the end of the week.”

“Just like that - drop your father’s name and all is right in the world.” Bucky whistled, sitting up in his chair, giving her a surprised look. “Impressive, Addie.”

Making a note on her desk calendar, Addie grinned. “All in a day's work. Anything else you need help with, Major?”

“Meet me at the officer’s club later?” He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Shaking her head, she met his sad eyes. “I have a date with one of the big birds tonight. Unfortunately I won’t be able to make it to the club tonight.” Gathering papers, she pushed back from her desk and stood. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting I can’t be late for. I’ll see you later, Bucky.”

Watching her walk off, Bucky narrowed his eyes on Josie who sat at her desk with a smirk. “Is there something I’m missing, Josie?”

“Every other Friday night or so, Addie goes to one of the birds and reminisces on her time in the sky. Tonight is one of those nights.” Josie smiled sympathetically.

Bucky turned her words over in his mind. “Would she be terribly pissed if I interrupted that time?”

“She’ll probably scream at you for a few minutes but I think you’ll be a welcomed guest after that.” Josie smiled, at the man clearly smitten with her best friend.

John plopped his hat back on his head, tilting it in her direction. “Does she have a particular favorite bird by chance?”

“Our Baby is a favorite if it’s here and as luck would have it, it will be landing later this afternoon. I’d start there.” Josie winked as John laughed.

He started towards the door, pausing looking at Josie. “Is there anything else I should know before tonight Josie?”

“Don’t break my best friend’s heart, Major. That girl has been through the wringer these last few months and she doesn’t deserve any other heartbreak.” Josie gave him a look, a mix that she meant business and not to piss her off.

Giving a two finger salute, John gave her a silent promise not to do so before leaving the tower and heading towards his jeep. He had a few things to think about before he had a date with a big bird and a pretty girl.

2000 hours

Tipping the flask to her mouth, she muttered a cuss when nothing flowed out. She was laid out in the nose of “Our Baby”, the last fort she delivered before she was demoted. Scoffing, she shook her head, not wanting to go down that dangerous path tonight. There was a lot of anger built up on how that went down. Throwing her head back, she screamed at the unfairness of the entire situation and that her past came roaring back.

Choking back a sob, she hit the side of the fort in frustration. She didn’t want to spend her evening sobbing in the fort - she had already had enough of those nights. All she wanted to be was up in the air but because of jackasses and rules, she was sidelined. She was lucky they didn’t send her home, though her father was the likely cause of that not happening.

A noise caught her attention as she attempted to sit up. Her eyes widened hearing the hatch of the fort open and a voice call up, “permission to climb aboard?”

Muttering a cuss under her breath, she shook her head, wishing her brain wasn't so fuzzy. “This isn’t a boat, Major but permission granted.”

She winced as it sounded like a bull in a China shop as he made his way through the fort. Mentally tracking his path from the hatch, she smiled as she heard his footsteps directly above her while his voice carried. “Where the hell are you, Addie?”

“In the nose Bucky.” Her voice sounded rough as she shook her head away attempting to clear the cobwebs.

Before she knew it, she saw his boots before his entire torso came into view. He chuckled seeing her sitting there. “So this is what you do when you’re not in the pub?”

“Sometimes. Other times I’m laying in a field looking at the stars. Depends on my mood and how pissed off I am at the world.” She shrugged. “The pubs weren’t keeping your attention tonight, Major?”

Shaking his head, he sat down across from her attempting to stretch out his long legs. “Nah, heard there was a rager happening at one of the forts and decided to come check it out.”

“Sorry to disappoint but it was a rager for one, until you decided to crash.” She let a half smile push across her lips.

“Do you want me to leave?” He offered, picking up on the sadness in her voice.

She quickly shook her head. That was the last thing she wanted. “Just know that it’s not exactly a happy mood tonight.”

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked, looking at her with sad eyes. “My buddy Buck tells me that I’m an excellent listener.”

Holding up a hand, she snickered. “Wait, your buddy is Buck and you’re Bucky? Did you really nickname your best friend after you?”

“I was Bucky first and when I met him at basic, he looked just like a buddy of mine back in Wisconsin named Buck so Gale became Buck and that’s quickly became what the guys call him.” Bucky defended, holding out a hand in innocence. “We gotta come up with a nickname for you, Addie.”

“Addie is my nickname.” She replied, eyeing him closely. “You’re not what all the rumors said you were like.”

Bucky laughed. “Glad getting to know me has changed your mind.”

“I’ve had my mind changed a lot these last few weeks.” She mused, tilting her head back to look up.

He shifted, looking at her, concern evident in his eyes, reaching into his sheepskin jacket and pulled something out - his trusty flask. “Offer still stands - do you want to talk about it? You’re obviously upset and sad about something and like I said, I’m a good listener.”

“I don’t even know where to begin.” She sighed.

Bucky took a sip out of his flask before offering it to her. She accepted, titling it into her mouth, the sting of the whiskey rough as it burned down her throat. “When did you fall in love with flying?”

“I’ve always loved it. My dad took me up when I was a baby; he said it was the only time I was quiet. I flew my first plane when I was 13, a Tiger Moth and I instantly fell in love with the freedom of it. My first job was doing the crop dusting in the local fields - I had five farms that I would spend the days swooping in and out of the clouds and I was so happy.” She grinned. “A family friend passed my name to Jacqueline Cochran and I was in the running to come over here. I went to Canada, the first time I had left the country, and managed to survive the grueling quest she put us through before being officially accepted to come over here in March 1942 and I’ve been here ever since.”

Bucky chuckled. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you speak in one breath.”

“Shut up; that just means you’re not asking the right questions.” She shrugged.

He took another swig of the flask, steadying himself for the question he was about to ask. “When did it all turn to shit?”

Sighing loudly, she wiggled her fingers for the flask. He promptly handed it over to her as she took a swig. “February. This may not make sense but bear with me. When I left in December 1941, I was 23 years old and engaged to be married. My fiance didn’t have the same ideas I did - I wanted to fly and do my part in the war effort and he wanted me home and tied to the house as his perfect wife. Well, that was the last thing I wanted to do so when Jackie called, I was on the first train to Canada. I couldn’t get away from Michigan fast enough.”

She ran her hand over her face, avoiding Bucky’s eyes as she sighed. “Well, little did I know, he had done a “welfare” check on the house I was staying in and found out that my roommates hadn’t seen me in a few weeks. He was pissed they didn’t report me missing, and they refused to tell him where I was. He was on good terms with the local police and requested a welfare warrant be sent out for me in the States. The authorities were looking in the US so it took them a bit to track me down. My promotion from Lieutenant to Captain made the papers back home and the big guns came calling in February. This fort was the last one I had ferried to Rattlesden. My father and CO along with the Air Force big guns were all waiting to read me the riot act. They couldn’t have a pilot and woman who wasn’t as upstanding as they were led to believe and who had skirted her duties back home, blah blah blah; bunch of bullshit to be honest. I ended up being grounded for five weeks while they tried to figure out what to do with me. I was given the option of going home or coming here to set up the base for other Americans. And the rest is history.”

“Is this the Wisconsin man you referenced during our first meeting?” Bucky asked, clenching his jaw.

Nodding, she smirked. “The very one and the same. Don’t worry, I got my revenge. Now everyone in Michigan and Wisconsin knows how awful of a lover he truly was and is.”

“Remind me never to piss you off.” Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “But you’re so strong - surviving that and finding a new purpose.”

“Well I wasn’t the hell going back to the US, back to him after he ruined my career.” She scoffed, giggling to herself. “I wrote him a strongly worded letter that our engagement was over and I never wanted to see or talk to him again. There might have been a bonfire a few weeks ago where I burned all of his things I had - letters, poems, his favorite sweater.”

A comfortable silence fell within the fort, the two of them content. “I can see you have more questions, Major. Might as well ask them since we’re on such a roll.”

“Can you still fly or did they tear up your pilots license?” He asked, rolling his head to hold her eyes.

Nodding, she smirked, her face turned excited at the question. “There’s a Tiger Moth not too far from here that I take up on the weekends to just keep up my flying - I couldn’t quit completely cold turkey. But I miss flying these big birds, they were my favorite to fly. It never got old when I stepped out of the fort to see the shocked faces of the men when they realized I was a female and could handle the big girls.”

“I would agree, there’s something about these big gals.” He smiled wistfully, knocking his knuckles against the side. “I heard you scream earlier. I can’t imagine the frustration and anger you feel.”

Shaking her head, she chuckled woefully. “You have no idea. At least you can still go up on observation missions. It’ll be a cold day in hell by the time I get to fly officially again.”

“Are the B-17s your favorite plane to fly, Sassy?” He tried out, smirking when she shrieked.

“Sassy, tell me that’s not my new nickname, Bucky!” She gave him a look that just made him laugh instead. “It’s a toss up between the B-17s and the Spitfires. Spitfires are fun because they are so responsive to turns and they’re fast.”

Bucky grinned, seeing her eyes light up at the mention of planes. “Sassy’s not an appropriate nickname but I will be testing a few out before I settle on an official one. Never flown a Spitfire before so I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“Maybe one day I’ll take you up in one. P-51s are also fun.” She grinned, watching his eyes widened as she dropped that little tidbit.

He bit his lip in thought. “You mentioned a brother and sister fighting. I know Elizabeth is in France but what about your brother? And your mom?”

“My brother, Charlie, is currently in North Africa, doing God knows what. He writes when he can, which is about every ten weeks or so. And mom passed away just before I left to go to Canada, another reason to flee as fast as I could.” She bit her lip holding in her tears. “My entire family is in the godforsaken war and I’m just trying to hold on by a thread.”

Before she knew what happened, Bucky was pulling her in for an awkward hug. She was so surprised by the movement that a few tears had escaped and before she could wipe them away, a rough calloused finger caught them. She looked up, entranced in a spicy mix of sweat and aftershave, into the deep blue eyes of Bucky Egan. Trying to steady her heartbeat, all thoughts that she had wanted to say were gone. “I’m sorry, Addie. Josie mentioned that you had had a rough couple of months but I’d say you had a rough couple of years.”

“It’s life - it keeps moving on its own so just buckle up and hold on.” A weak smile graced her lips.

Bucky scoffed, removing his arms from around her and scooting back a little to his side of the plane. “I think you have the best outlook for life, Spitfire.”

“Spitfire - that’s a lazy nickname, Bucky. Do better.” She cocked an eyebrow at him, immediately missing the warmth of his arms around her. She wanted another hug from Bucky. “And I got that outlook from my mom - she would always say that line about buckle up and hold on whenever I was complaining about whatever. She was right - you can’t change half of what’s going on so just buckle up and enjoy the ride.”

Bucky laughed, knowing full well having her in his life would keep him on his toes. “Will do, Addie. I’ve been having all the fun with the questions. Got any for me?”

“What about your family back in Wisconsin?” She asked, a chill from the night ran up her back.

“You cold Bluebird?” He questioned, titling the flask in his mouth for another gulp.

She paused, raising an eyebrow in his direction. “Bluebird, that’s an interesting nickname. And yes, these forts aren’t exactly insulated, you would know taking them above 10,000 feet.”

“So not opposed to Bluebird, noted.” He reached behind him and grabbed a blanket, throwing it in her direction. “And family - mother, father and two sisters awaiting me back in the states.”

“When’s your birthday?” She wrapped the blanket around her, wishing it was a tad thicker. “And how old are you?”

Chuckling, Bucky shook his head. “That’s your grand question, Bluebird? September 8 and 27. You?”

“July 6 and almost 26.” She paused. “Why bluebird?”

He hummed, raising his eyes to meet hers. “Because you remind me of a bird who always needs to be flying to feel free. And bluebirds sing the sweetest songs. Do you sing, Bluebird?”

“Absolutely not, cannot carry a tune to save my life.” A not so lady-like snort sounded from her as she laughed, shaking her head. “You Major?”

Bucky laughed loudly, his laugh echoing off the metal that surrounded them. “I’m no good either but I’m loud. And if you commit with enough enthusiasm then it doesn’t really matter.”

“Well I’m sure it’s a sight to behold, Major. Can’t wait to see that.” She giggled. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Blue Skies - it’s a classic and it’s usually played at least three times in the officer’s club on any given night.” Bucky’s excitement was palpable while his eyes lit up at the prospect of singing in front of her. “Though, I may get a bit nervous singing in front of you.”

A flush crept across her cheeks as she ducked her head in embarrassment. His voice dropped as he took her in. “Awww Bluebird don’t blush. Kinda wanna kiss you if I’m being completely honest.”

She looked up at him as he scratched the back of his neck as his checks reddened. “What’s stopping you?”

“This is a get to know you session, Blue.” He rushed to get the words out as she laughed.

“Wouldn’t that be another way to get to know you?” She challenged, making him laugh.

Scooting closer, he smiled at her. “Trying to show you I’m a gentleman, Addie.”

Scooting closer to him, she reached up and rubbed her thumb along the soft skin of his cheek. She looked into his blue eyes before tilting her head to capture his lips in a soft kiss. He deepened the kiss, pulling her close, silencing a gasp that just managed to escape. Pulling away slightly, his hand cupped her jaw, his thumb running soothingly up and down before kissing her again.

Time passed as they continued kissing in the belly of Our Baby. Pulling back, she laid a hand on Bucky’s chest pushing him back. “Slow down, Major. My brain is all fuzzy and I should probably head to bed.”

Bucky laughed and couldn’t deny her. Pushing himself off the belly, he offered her a hand, making sure she was steady before making his way up. “I had a good time talking with you, Blue.”

“Same, Bucky, same.” She murmured as a yawn escaped her mouth. “I usually am out here every other Friday, sometimes more often.”

Keeping a steady hand on her back as she stumbled through the plane to the open hatch, Bucky watched her with concentration. “Noted Bluebird. Let me go down first to catch you.”

“You think I can’t make my way through the hatch. Bucky? You know how many times I’ve done this?” She put her hands on her hips and gave him a look that did too many unmentionable things to him.

“A few?” He guessed as she cursed then shook her head. “But how many times have you done it with a flask and half gone down the hatch?”

She paused, giving him a look. “Alright, I’ll let you go first in case you need to catch me.”

Watching him slip through the hatch, she heard his boots hit the pavement before she heard his voice. “Let’s go Bluebird.”

Grumbling to she lowered herself down before slipping through the hatch, his hand steadying her as her feet hit the ground. “Want me to walk you back to the barracks?”

Holding out his elbow, she slipped her arm through his as he guided her across the tarmac. And if she let him steal a kiss or two or three as they stumbled back to the barracks, that was between her, him, the bright stars and moon that lit their path home.

Feedback as always is much appreciated. I’m working on the next few parts, so if there anything you’d like to see, just let me know. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 3

#masters of the air #masters of the air fan fiction #john egan fanfiction #John Egan x OC #Addie + John

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solivagantingrebel · 15 days

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This wip game is the hardest decision of my life. So I shall pick,,,whichever one you’re most excited to share!! <3

I'm indecisive too 😭

I'll do more than one, how about that? Excuse: because I can and rambling about fics to you in my favorite pastime <33

All of the ideas occupy a decent amount of brainspace but I've been inclined to think a lil about the Mafia AU!Swap just because isekai tropes are very fun imo.

OKAY, okay hear me out, Canonverse!Ghost being in a situationship with Soap before he gets dropped into the Mafia verse - the first chapter will probably be a bit dramatic, confusing, hey Ghost is tied up and captive again in what suspiciously feels like Mexico, war flashbacks to Roba but who ends up coming out of the door and facing him is a very fancily dressed John Mactavish with clothes a bit too tight for comfort and the smile oh-so-familiar and it's starting to feel less like a kidnapping and more like a scene Johnny is setting (it's working too - god it's working when he looks that good). But he - Soap - almost looks annoyed when he's called Johnny and he goes on this monologue talking about how he wiped out an entire Mafia front (some random name that Ghost can't connect) and it almost seems like he's gloating about doing that + tying Ghost down and damn, Johnny could've just asked if he was into this but he'd have to admit, taking him down and tying up was pretty impressive and as the whole gloating session it's getting clear that Ghost doesn't care what he's saying, he's just enamored and looking at Soap with hearts in his eyes.

Then, Johnny gets tired of him and it's increasingly clear that maybe, maybe it's not the Soap he knows but he's not left to think much about it because he passes out and the next time he's awake he's in a strange compound with comms in his ear and a bunch of knives in front of him and Johnny's talking about how he needs to kill all the mafia in proximity to survive and he's almost implying that everyone in the area wants Ghost dead. Turns out though, Ghost is really, really good with his knives and he manages with minimum injuries, much to unfamiliar Johnny's surprise.

And that's how Ghost ends up being a bodyguard / hitman for Soap temporarily as he figures out where and what happened, while Soap is constantly trying to test & humiliate him by throwing him in situations only a highly trained soldier can get out of (tough luck soap!! it's because Ghost was a prominent figure in the rival family) and the whole tone of the fic is a bit,,, violent but also? kind of romantic comedy? Because Soap thought he was taking a rival family's prodigy from them but Ghost's is farrrr too happy to be around him and he's cheeky and flirtatious on occasions and it's getting increasingly harder to deny that Ghost is starting to become one of the few people who actually, fully cares about Soap. Enemies to lovers but make it mutual pining ensues! The Serial Killer AU is probably the one that's bare bones but it's a funny lil fic in my brain. It probably happens in a small town somewhere, I haven't decided where but the gist is, Soap's an outlier and kind of an outcast in the society, the people his age are kind of jerks to him and he's never felt comfortable in the town either - probably has plans to move out soon for university or military or something. Because he's an outcast though, he has always been kinder to folks that are neglected, ignored or outcasts like him, and one of them just happens to be Ghost.

In my head, there's this scene where there's a bonfire party with the people who are known to be. more than privileged assholes, especially towards people like him. Soap goes to the party because it's probably a day or two before he leaves the town for good and he's just. there to get whatever he can (food and drinks) before he leaves, he sees Ghost again! Scanning the area with intensity that makes him a bit uneasy but he's still polite, kind and casual with him, and he sees something shift in Ghost's eyes but he doesn't think much of it. Cue later in the night and there's a huge commotion and people are running around saying there's a murder on the loose and he also runs away because of course, he stumbles into a cabin in the woods that he takes shelter in and subsequently falls asleep on the bed.

He later wakes up to a man wearing a mask with 'blood' splattered all over him and he couldn't help but honest to god, laugh. Because of course, right on the night before he's going to get out of the town for good, [OC that was horrible to him his whole life] would prepare something straight out of a movie to scare him. He ends up talking to the 'masked killer' about it and how he should drop the ruse because it's not worth it - and then gets an idea because damn, the man under the mask looks so?? built?? and if [OC] thought a mask could freak him, he had another thing coming because Soap is into it. Has always liked slasher flicks and the masked killers there. Soooo, he ends up sweet talking the killer and seducing him, making it turn into the best night of his life thus far.

Ghost - had already planned to spare Soap from the start, the only one in his eyes that deserved to survive, what he wasn't expecting was the boy to be in his cabin and seduce him and essentially make him fall in love with him that night. The next morning though, he's gone but Ghost vows to find him again. Now, he had a massacre he needed to frame someone else for.

Cue graduated / older Soap who runs into Ghost in the city he's living in and runs into Ghost and they have a night out. Turns out, there actually was a killer that night but Soap had a morning flight to take so he didn't know what happened later on. and he knew it wasn't the poor, masked boy who was forced to scare him because it ended up being the [OC] who was deemed the culprit - who also took his life that night. Well, he didn't have to linger on such macabre, tragic events when Ghost was staring at him with those handsome eyes, did he? I'll be soooo real, I'm the most excited for the last chapter of the Christmas WIP but it's going to be coming out soon so! Maybe it can wait a lil bit, here's something for that also - thank you so much for inspiring the Ghostsoap dancing idea, it was a blast to write! (im so sorry if there's typos and mistakes here)

This was dangerous. But I couldn’t help myself. I placed my free hand above his waist, palm slowly stretching over the meat of his stomach before I curled my fingers around him. The permission to touch buzzed with a strange sort of anticipation I hadn’t felt before; I could, if I wanted to, when I tried to imagine giving in to the impulses I had of pulling Simon in and kissing him senseless, I had a feeling he would’ve let me. I traced the soft lines of his stomach through the layers of his clothes, the haze reaching from the warmth of his skin to his scent clouding in my head. “Johnny.” His voice was soft, delicate against my skin, and it was then I realised he was dipping his head close, lips next to my ear; short, punched out breaths travelling down the length of my neck while goosebumps pricked over my arms. I moved before his closeness wiped every thought clean from my brain, intertwining my fingers through the hand that I still held. The music curled in a delicate, growing rhythm around us. “Dance with me.” That wasn’t what I meant to say but he managed it seamlessly, in perfect tempo, and when I guided him towards the middle of the room step by step, he followed more ardently than my shadow. With his breath on my neck, my grip on his waist, the tune of the instruments dragged like an anchor through time, slowing everything down until the sway of his body against mine was the only thing that mattered. We weren’t exactly following the beat or the dance steps like my mam taught me — which wasn’t possible in my current physical condition anyway — but Simon didn’t complain and I didn’t want to stop.

#ghostsoap #ghoap #talking about my wips #wips ask game #i adore you i hope you don't mind me going a bit crazy over the amount of wips i talked about here lol #i hope it was enough to feed the boopfully beloved <333

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copiousloverofcopia · 9 months

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FINALLY, the next chapter of HOLY MARY is LIVE!!!!

Thank you all for hanging in there with me. Life has been super busy and stressful. It's been hard to find the time, energy, and inspiration to keep writing but I appreciate you all so much. Please if you like my work, share it!

HOLY MARY

Sister Mary Catherine was only weeks away from taking her vows when she has a chance encounter with a man. A man she finds out is the Pope of the Satanic church.

Chapter 8: All Good Things Must Come to an End

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven’t started yet, start from the beginning HERE!

Definitely NSFW below the cut

The rain was relentless. Cascading down from all sides. Like the biblical flood of Noah, it flowed down from the Heavens. Bathing the world in fury and rage. The Abbey inhabitants remained safely inside, unbothered by its ferocity and going about things as usual.

A few weeks had passed since Mary received the new stigmata wounds. They were now all but fully healed. The bleeding, ceasing as her belly continued to grow. Each day, passing without so much as a whisper from God—or the Devil.

If they hadn’t lived it, Terzo and Mary might have believed it never happened. The two of them, living a life that seemed to resemble normalcy. Or at least as normal as a former nun and the current Antipope, who were expecting their first child, could expect. The more days passed, the more it felt like a bad dream.

Mary had tried to bury down the thoughts of what her God had asked of her. Terzo too had been trying his best to pretend that he didn’t know what was to come. Both of them were unaware of when or if this chance at happiness would be ripped away once again. Settling into feelings that were surreal and always on edge.

Primo, too, was baffled by it all. Wondering why the stigmata wounds were healing. Unlike the starry-eyed couple, who had chosen to hide behind the present moments of brightness, he was unconvinced. Primo knew deep down, this false sense of security would soon end and that there was no way Lucifer and God would allow things to remain as they were.

Despite it all, the one who seemed to be going through the worst of it was Secondo. Sulking about the Abbey as if he was more hurt and anyone else. Wearing his despair on his sleeve like an obvious stain that refused to come out. Unapproachable as ever with each passing day.

In the hollow of the confession booth, he sat. Head down and wringing his hands. Secondo, struggling with the urges he had been so desperately trying to control. His thoughts about Mary, only growing more intense as the time passed.

Still seething with jealousy with every passing glance at her sweet face or the curve of her belly. He was more broken now than he had ever been before. A man once filled with dark righteousness, the likes that only Primo had surpassed. Now his constitution was slowly crumbling inside him.

He had sought sanctuary in the booth. Hoping to find some solace in prayer, but his mind and the growing bulge in his pants would not allow it. He released himself, hard cock springing up and already dripping with need. He took it in his hand, biting his lower lip as he began thrusting up into it.

Mary’s name on his lips as he fucked his own fist. The supple leather aiding him as he pretended it was her tightening cunt. The warmth inside her, surrounding him as she held on to his chasuble. Crying out from the pleasure with their coupling and both of them engulfed in pleasure.

It wasn’t long before Secondo was grunting and pumping. Harder and harder as he felt the pressure building up inside. Finally spilling himself over his hand. Quickly retrieving an emerald-colored mouchoir from his pocket to cleanse himself of his shame. Reality setting back in quickly with the clarity of his orgasm.

“Satan, Morningstar. Brightest amongst those who fell from Heaven. I am your servant. From the moment of my conception, until I am consumed by Hellfire…I shall worship you.” he whispered as he dropped to his knees in the booth. “I have never asked anything from you. Not so much as a word. Even when you spoke to Primo and not myself, I have never defied you. Never turned from your will, your darkness—or refused any command. But now…now I must ask you—why? Why did you choose him?”

The silence was deafening. Secondo, shaking his hand as the storm continued to rage outside. Lightning, illuminating the chapel all around the booth while he sat in the darkness. Listening to the sound of the crashing of the wind as he closed his eyes. The loud pounding of the rain hitting the old cathedral style windows that lined the room. The wind whipped drops hitting the colored panes like bullets from the Heavens.

“Heh…” he chuckled a bit to himself, shaking his head. “Still, it seems the Heavens weep for what's to come—a child of Hell.” Secondo continued. “A child of darkness and Terzo, his worldly father… Fucking speak to me! Why do you leave me in silence? Have I not proven my loyalty to you? Shepherded your flock? Given my life in your service?” he growled.

Of course, you have. Even now you honor me with your lust and envy.

A voice spoke from the void of the darkness. Secondo, rushing up onto his feet, his heart pounding in his ears and his eyes blown wide. He took a moment, listening and standing still. Allowing his heart rate to slow as the booth filled with nothing but the sounds of his breathing.

“Lu-Lucifer?” he spoke into the darkness. Feeling the weight of an otherworldly hand upon his shoulder. One that felt as if it had manifested from the walls of the booth.

How could I deny such a request to speak with you Secondo. Afterall you made it abundantly clear that you have been such a good servant.

Secondo could hardly believe it. The voice of the profane one, the bringer of darkness, Lucifer had finally spoken to him. Had this been any other moment he would have relished it. Reveled in the glory that it was to be chosen to hear his word straight from his cursed lips. Now however all he could think of was his own pain.

“Why was I not given the chance to…to...”

To fuck her? Defile her divine womb with your unholy seed?

Secondo fell quiet. Of course, the secret of his desire was known to Satan. Worn plainly on his face like the black and white of his corpse paints. “Yes...” he uttered beneath his breath. A roar of laughter broke out in tandem with the storm. The infernal sound ringing in Secondo’s ears.

Who said you can’t? What's stopping you from spilling yourself inside her right now?

“It's too late. She belongs to him. I will never have the chance.” Secondo lamented. He felt the hand slowly slip from his shoulders.

Tsk tsk tsk… all that ambition and passion I watched before, your mind set on EXACTLY what you wanted. Seems it's all gone now—or is it?

Suddenly the air felt different. The silence, assuring Secondo that once more that he was alone in the booth. His mind, heavy with the words of his dark God. His pants still very much unzipped.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the bowels of the Abbey Primo sat in communion with the spirits. The whispers and shrieks, seeping through to the world of the living and speaking their truths to him. Primo had gotten his answer. Before he was able to leave there was a pounding at the chamber door.

“Che cazzo? Chi sarebbe così stupido da disturbarmi?” he scoffed as he stood up and approached the door. Lifting up the latch and opening it to reveal Terzo. “Fratellino, I am glad it’s you. There is something we must discuss…and now.”

“What is it? I have been pacing around upstairs all day fratello. Waiting for you to come and tell me what the fuck is going on. Why has it all suddenly stopped? I must know what you have learned?” Terzo begged him. He had only become increasingly more anxious as things went on. Only mere weeks remained before Mary and him would welcome their son and he had, still, withheld the truth from her.

Primo seemed to be someplace else for a moment as he stared at Terzo. His gaze, feeling as if he looked through him instead of at him. He grabbed hold of Terzo’s shirt and began dragging him back upstairs. When finally, he spoke, his words were only more concerning.

“We have company.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mary stretched out on the bed, gently trying to sit up. Her body, much harder to maneuver now than ever before. She smiled, ready to find Terzo, wherever he might be tucked away, and drag him back into bed with her. Spending another day together before the two would become three. Something however felt wrong the moment she got upright in the bed.

The wounds on her head, back, and chest began burning a bit as she got up out of the bed. Mary moved to put on her robe, hit with the feeling that she was spinning around in the room though she’d stood still. She brought her hand to her mouth as the wave of nausea hit her and then she heard it.

“Be not afraid.” a voice said from behind her. Panic sent coursing through her like blood in her veins. Mary sent over, fainting after her vision suddenly went black. When she began coming to, only a few moments later, she felt that someone was helping guide her back to the bed.

She began to relax, believing that it was Terzo. But when her vision returned, she quickly found out she was wrong. The haze cleared, revealing to her a stranger—a dark-haired, blue-eyed stranger. He seemed to almost be glowing before her. His appearance was pleasing to the eye. Tall, broad shouldered, and well dressed in a cream-colored suit. His dark hair, flowy and combed back away from his face. Despite his handsome features she felt uneasy in his presence.

“Be not afraid Mary.” he said once more. She had finally had enough sense about her to respond, but despite his statement she was still very much afraid.

“Who? Who are you?” she asked him, withdrawing backward towards the middle of the bed. Gripping tight to her covers as if they might shield her from any ill intentions.

“I am the one sent to Nazareth. The one who announced to the Holy Mother, that with just a whisper by the spirit she would conceive Christ our lord—I am the one they call Gabriel.” he told her. Instantly Mary was moved to tears. The man’s body, beginning to change—allowing her to see the full glory of his shine coming from within. The mass of wings, unfurling from behind him. Revealing to her that he was in fact the archangel he claimed to be.

“Why? Why have you come here?” she demanded.

“You know why Mary. Your time is running out. Soon that child will be born and your chance at paradise will fall like the Morningstar from the Heavens.” he explained.

“No—I won’t…I can’t.”

“Do you not understand the filth that you carry?” he asked her, genuinely confused how she could want to let this continue on.

“I am the sinner! This child has never committed anything against God. He is innocent!” Mary cried. Gabriel’s face fell to the bed. He shook his head before beginning to crawl towards her. Mary shifted back as far as she could until she felt herself almost fall off the edge of the bed.

“That child you carry is the greatest of sin. The vessel for Antichrist. The body chosen to hold the most unholy of souls, one that awaits to trample over any other that might try and lay claim towards it.” Gabriel unveiled. Suddenly it became clear to him. From the spectral pallor of Mary’s face and the horror in her eyes, it was obvious. “Oh…you really didn’t know.”

“No! You’re lying!” she screamed, Gabriel beginning to laugh in her face. He quickly grabbed her. Painfully holding tight to her arms so that she couldn’t move away from him. Mary gritted her teeth, spitting in his face as she continued to cry. The tears, staining her cheeks in redness.

“Oh, I wish I were. You have sinned against God himself and consorted with the highest of the Devil’s order…conceiving a child. This child will be the ender of nations. The harbinger of the end times Mary. All that you love, including your little painted lover, will be taken away in the burning Hellfire. It will consume you, as it will the rest of the world.” he yelled back. He reached into his jacket and pulled from it a dagger. The blade, old as time itself and glinting in the light that poured in from the window. Sharp enough to pierce flesh with such ease it could cut the fabric of time itself.

“Terzo! Oh fuck! Help me! No!” Mary screamed as she managed to pull away from him, running across the room before Gabriel flew at her. Holding tight to her shoulder and running the back of the blade along the swell of Mary’s belly. She shuttered before him, the tears spilling faster and faster as she was certain her and her child would be killed. Then something surprising happened.

“Here.” Gabriel said as he handed over the blade. Mary, stunned, gripped it tight in her hand. Looking at it in sheer awe as the dagger emanated intensely with celestial power. Her mind, still spinning and more confused— more scared than ever.

“What? You’re not going to? Why?” she asked him.

“It has to be you.” Gabriel explained, looking at her with almost pleading eyes.

“If what you say is true, why doesn’t God strike me down? End this now before, as you said, it's too late?” she asked him. Gabriel let out a bit of a nefarious chuckle.

“Free will… it’s a helluva thing.” he winked. Suddenly Terzo, Secondo, and a pack of their ghouls swarmed the room. Bursting in to find the angel had already begun dissipating just as quickly as he had appeared. Terzo quickly ran to Mary who still held the blade in her hands. Grabbing it from her and throwing it before pulling her into his arms.

“Mary are you alright…is the baby?” he asked as he looked her over. Relieved that she seemed to be uninjured. The ghouls went crazy, sniffing around the room for a hint of the angel's scent, convinced that he might still be there as Terzo tried his best to calm Mary.

“The baby…”

“What about the baby?” he asked her. Mary looked at him, her eyes filled now with anger and pain.

“You knew, didn’t you?” she snapped, pulling away from Terzo.

“Knew what Mary? What’s wrong?” Terzo asked. Then came the sharp sting of Mary’s hand slapping him across his face. Smearing his pants and leaving a red mark, welting in their wake.

“The baby is evil. He will become the Antichrist. You knew this whole time and you let me continue to carry him inside me! You let me take it this far. Now I damn us all!” she screamed before lifting up in the air before them. The ghouls, Terzo, and Secondo, all backing up in panic as they watched her rise up.

Mary screamed more, frightened as she hung in the air. Blood, beginning to pour down her face—blinding her before them. Then she began thrashing around, midair, as the marks on her back reappeared. Like lashes from a whip, crimson marks, crisscrossing along her shoulders and back. Terzo and Secondo ran towards her but were thrown backwards as they approached. An unseen force keeping them from interfering with whatever was happening.

“Secondo, fucking get Primo! Maybe he can stop this!” Terzo cried as the two of them tried to stand up. The ghouls continued hissing and growling as a light began shining out from within Mary’s wounds. Blood spilling as the droplets hovered in the air.

“Go! Go!” Secondo yelled as he and his ghouls took off immediately for Primo. Terzo fell to his knees before Mary. Watching in horror as she was tortured before him. Unable to stop it. Mary began screaming harder as the wounds reappeared in her hands. So much blood, dripping all along the ground beneath her.

“There will be great tribulation, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be.” Mary whispered through her tears. Terzo reached out for her again, watching as her feet began to bleed. The nail wounds had now appeared in the center of them as Mary collapsed onto the ground.

“Mary! No!” Terzo yelled as he rushed for her. Picking up her bloodied and battered body in his arms. Crying harder as he felt the gentle kicking of his child from inside her. Terrified that it was too late to stop anything. Finally, Secondo returned to the room with Primo and more ghouls, but it was too late. Mary had received four of the sacred wounds—and only one remained before she and the child would be killed.

Secondo placed his hand on Terzo’s shoulder as Primo rounded them. Dropping to the floor and pressing his fingers into Mary’s neck. Frantically searching for her pulse. Letting out a heavy exhale when it found it faintly present.

“She’s alive. We need to get her to the infirmary now fratello.” he explained. Terzo nodded as the ghouls helped to pick Mary up from the floor and rush her to the physician. Primo and Secondo stood silently in the room as Terzo remained, kneeling on the floor and covered in his lover's blood. Crying out as he spoke to his brothers.

“This is all my fault.”

Notes:

Che cazzo? Chi sarebbe così stupido da disturbarmi?- What in the fuck? Who would be stupid enough to disturb me?

“There will be great tribulation, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be.” -Matthew 24:21

#Holy Mary #Terzo x Catholic nun #Terzo x OC Mary #Terzo #papa iii #papa emeritus iii #ren writes #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfics #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction

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phanfictioncatalogue · 2 months

Text

Slytherin!Dan x Hufflepuff!Phil Masterlist

Bound to be Broken (ao3) - CalmnDown

Summary: Hogwarts AU where a mysterious curse rests upon the boys which binds them but also breaks them.

Dementor’s kiss (ao3) - parttimestoryteller

Summary: Dan Howell, a shy third year slytherin, is befriended by fifth year hufflepuff Phil Lester. Dan is quiet and alone, with little faith in his abilities, but with the comfortable and kind-hearted Phil he will learn to flourish in the wizarding world (more like a collection of one shots but could be connected to each other. Includes kickthestickz and other YouTubers) WIP

Expecto Patronum (ao3) - storming_wolf

Summary: Phil is eager to prove his worth as a powerful wizard, so he attempts to master the Patronus Charm, so Dan helps him find a happier memory.

Falling For You (ao3) - phanatics

Summary: Slytherin seeker Dan Howell realizes that playing Quidditch is a lot harder when a distraction in the form of a cute Hufflepuff boy shows up on the other team.

Friendship (It’s Kind Of Magic) - phan-dil-lions

Summary: Dan and Phil have been best friends for a long time, and Phil is worried that will change when they go to Hogwarts.

Help Me Gather Mine - literaryphan

Summary: Maybe a muggle-born Hufflepuff who’s enthusiastic about music becoming friends with a pure-blood Slytherin who’s fascinated by muggle culture is a long shot, but Dan and Phil never really did play by the rules.

I Love You, Phil Lester - omgphancakes

Summary: Phil is a Hufflepuff. Dan is a Slytherin. How will they ever be together now?!?

It’s Called The Black Lake For A Reason (wattpad) - scribblenscrawl

Summary: phan hogwarts au (slytherin dan and hufflepuff phil). they go skinny dipping in the lake at hogwarts.

Let’s Get Back To Hating Each Other - jilliancares

Summary: Hufflepuff!Phil hates Slytherin!Dan, so when they get in trouble together and decide to steal the documents that say that they’re in trouble, he definitely doesn’t expect what happens next.

Light Meets Dark (ao3) - PHILosophy97

Summary: Takes place during the Wizard War.Dan, a Slytherin, is forced to perform an unforgivable curse on a Hufflepuff, however he finds afterwards that perhaps you can find a friend in the most unlikely place.

Magical - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan is a new student after being kicked out of his last school. Now he goes to Hogwarts and he’s been placed into Slytherin. Dan thought it would be hard making new friends, until he met Phil Lester.

Magical Misfits and Other Oddities (ao3) - QuietConspiracy

Summary: When Dan returns for his O.W.L. year at Hogwarts, he must learn to juggle the prospects of new friends, academic responsibilities, his ever-expanding YouTube fanbase, and his confusion over his sexuality. Throw in the Hogwarts Golden Boy's rumored interest in him, and this may make for his most interesting year yet.

Of Wands and Waltzes - manchestereyes

Summary: Hogwarts AU in which Hufflepuff!Phil and Slytherin!Dan sneak off from the Yule Ball for some much-needed alone time.

Please (fanfiction.net) - Dontcallmeacoward

Summary: Phil, a Hufflepuff with a passion for potions meets Dan, a Slytherin Quidditch star, while working together on a special potion project. (Includes other Youtubers. Chapters 3-5 are NSFW) WIP

Snakes and Skulls - lestericalphan

Summary: Dan is a Slytherin and he’s recently been given the dark mark as his family are death eaters. Then Dan meets Phil at Hogwarts and they become close friends even though Phil is Hufflepuff. Dan starts to have feelings for Phil and pushes him away bc he doesn’t want to bring Phil into all the dark stuff but Phil also has feelings for Dan and wants to be with him.

Some Secrets Are Meant To Be Told (ao3) - superwholocked_reader

Summary: Dan and Phil have been rivals since third year, always fighting, always competing with one another. However, one potions class shall change their school life, as Professor Slughorn makes them brew Amortentia, the strongest love potion there is.

The Badger and the Snake, or Rather the Lion and the Llama (ao3) - Simply_A_Dream_Within_A_Dream

Summary: Dan and Phil have been best friends since they were born, but what happens when they arrive at Hogwarts and are put into separate houses? This story is set at the same time as Harry Potter.

The Dark Mark - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan and Phil are going into their last year of Hogwarts, and Phil wants to make the best of it. But will a secret kept by Dan ruin it all?

To Dwell on Dreams (ao3) - carltzmann

Summary: “Taking in the whole image, though, it hardly hurt. Watching this perfect version of himself smile and wave and talk to his friends, bathing in success and appreciation, Dan suddenly started to believe that maybe all that was possible, even with the confirmation of a terrifying secret.”

Dan and Phil meet at the Mirror of Erised.

Una in Perpetuum [Together forever] (ao3) - LiterallyAmazingPhan

Summary: Dan Howell comes from a respectable family of Gryffindors, so it’s a surprise to find himself sorted into Slytherin. Believing the house’s reputation, Dan was positive his fate would be to turn evil. Little did he know that a certain Hufflepuff would turn all of his expectations around and lead him to a wildly different path. Follow the adventures of Dan and Phil through Hogwarts as they grow and learn all there is about love and magic, side-by-side as they have to face the biggest threat of all.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #au #hp #hp masterlist #hogwarts #slytherin!dan #hufflepuff!phil

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megidonitram · 1 month

Text

Everyone's Running From Something

(ch. 5)

A Baldur's Gate 3 University Professor AU

Rating: M

Quick Summary: Astarion and Gale are two University English professors precariously mentoring a troubled 19-year-old and falling in love.

💖Main Pairing : BloodWeave,(Astarion/Gale) 💕Side Pairings: Shadowheart/Nocturne, Karlach/Dammon, Wyll/The Dark Urge, Tav/Tav 💔Past Pairings: Gale/Mystra, Astarion/Sebastian, Astarion/Tav

<=Previous Chapter | Master List | Ao3 | Next Chapter =>

**Please see Master List Entry for Full Content Warnings**

⏰Chapter Warning⏰

Mentions of Child Abuse | Discussion of a Past Suicide Attempt | Implied Eating Disorder

The first day of class was overcast. Astarion woke up at 5:30 am and ran through his usual morning routine: make the bed, hot shower, work out- Mondays were endurance days: planks, crunches, lunges, and a 2-mile run-, cold shower, get dressed, morning coffee- one sugar, one stevia, no cream.

The mornings were when Astarion missed Lydia the most- not necessarily the banal domestic conversation, but the commotion of her in his house. Her inscrutable taste in music and the sound of her knocking around in the kitchen filled the void of silence in a far more alive way than the soft whisper-drone of NPR. It was also harder to fall back into old habits when someone else was there watching him.

His phone buzzed as he was finishing his coffee.

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.

L: Hey, probably a stupid question.

Her name was still in his phone the way she’d saved it when they first met, as ‘Lydia 🖤😈’ and Astarion thought, as he did every time she reached out for something, that he should probably change that before the wrong person saw it.

L: Is there a purple and white cabochon earring lying around your bedroom somewhere? L: The last time I can remember wearing them I ended up at yours.

Astarion picked up his phone and typed a reply.

A: I know I have one of your earrings in my car cupholder.

A: I keep meaning to get it back to you. I’ll send it along with Wyll if you’d like.

She replied a few minutes later.

L: Absolutely do not do that. L: I’ll just run by your office L: God. L: You’re going to make the kids think I’m having an affair.

Astarion read the text and put his phone down, intending to end the conversation, but then something clicked in his mind.

A: Hey. A: You worked at a DSS to put yourself through medical school, didn’t you?

L: ooOOOoo

L: You must REALLY need something if you’re willing to admit that sports medicine is real medicine😏😏😏

A: Answer the question, Silverwarden. L: I did. L: But I was an admin not a coordinator, so my knowledge is limited L: You might be better off talking to Isobel

L: She’s very nice! I can introduce you if you’ve never met! A: I’m an English professor, I’ve met the ADA coordinator. A: I need your discretion. A: Can you tell me why a student’s mental health deferment might get rejected? L: Is this about Xenia? L: It’ll be easier to explain if you call me.

Astarion checked his watch before he clicked on her contact information to call her. The phone rang a few times before she picked up. He heard a squawking toddler and the last snatch of her previous conversation: ‘…It’s just a student thing… Alright, see you tonight. I love you.’

“Hello, Mr. Goodman! Are you going to Vemo me a dollar, or shall I?” Lydia had an unhurried lilting voice, with a touch of a southern accent that made her swallow her ‘o’s and ‘t’s.

“What?”

“It’s a- never mind!” she huffed. “Have you consumed a single piece of media produced in this century? You fucking crypt keeper.”

“Sometimes I have to review Jenevelle’s assigned reading choices for appropriateness.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He could tell she was nodding the way she did when he missed her point. “‘And so I Anal Douche While Kesha’s ‘Praying’ Plays From My iPhone on Repeat,’ I remember. She scandalized half the football team with that one.”

“The American Football team could stand to get scandalized more,” Astarion replied. “How are your little brats doing?”

As if on cue, there was another toddler squeal in the background. “Ruby took her first steps last fall, and Clem’s learning how to crawl exceptionally early, but I suspect you don’t actually care.”

He didn’t dignify that with a response. “Why would the DSS reject Xenia’s deferment?”

“So that’s the thing: They wouldn’t. The DSS covers ADA accommodations for students with documented disabilities; a sudden injury would not be under their purview,” Lydia explained, putting on her lecture voice. “The decision to defer a student’s financial aid awards would go to the university’s finance board—I think? It may go to the board of directors.”

“That’s not what Raphael told me.” Astarion pressed his tongue against his canine until it started to sting.

“I know you're not going to like to hear this, but Raphael may genuinely not know,” and she was quite right; Astraion was going to be pissed if he found out he'd been bluffed into his current predicament. “Disability services is an incredibly complex field- both necessarily and unnecessarily so. It’s still pretty unusual for a student’s medical deferment to get rejected… Can I ask what your interest in this is?”

“I’ve found a channel to contest the decision, but I want to make sure it’s at least a somewhat viable option before I drag Xenia into more bureaucracy.”

“hmm… I knew you two would get along.” Lydia replied, quite satisfied with herself. “You have a very similar energy.”

Astarion sighed. He knew someone had referred Xenia to his sophomore survey class last semester; he'd just never figured out who. “I suppose we both have that ‘father used to beat me’ twinkle in our eyes.”

“Don’t put those words in my mouth!” Lydia exclaimed. “I meant you both have a similar…” She groped for the right words, “…surviverly quality about yourselves.”

“Will to survive?” Astarion corrected her.

“Whatever!” She snapped.

“Do you know why Xenia might have been rejected?”

“Speculatively?” Lydia asked.

“No, I’m asking you to read someone’s mind.” Astarion quipped.

“I answered your call in front of my husband for this, you know?”

Astarion sighed again. “If he’s not comfortable with you talking to your exes, he probably should not have married someone who fucked their coworker.”

“Do you want my help, or did you call me just to snipe?”

“Fine… please speculate. Why would someone’s medical deferment be rejected?”

“Well, if I had to guess… Xenia was sort of a high-profile get for the university. And given her history, I think it’s pretty safe to say that incident-” she paused as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say the next part. “-I think that incident last fall was probably a suicide attempt.”

There was a beat of grim silence. When the news came down, everyone had made that assumption, but no one was brave enough to put words to the thought.

Astarion hummed in acknowledgment. “So, you think the school rejected her medical deferment over bad publicity?”

“I think it would turn into a massive media circus if that got out, yes,” Lydia replied. “They may be trying to push her into dropping out.”

“Do you think it’s worth it to challenge?” Astarion asked.

“I don’t know,” Lydia sighed. “At the very least, it would probably be good to have as a precedent if she ends up having to sue the school… You could always just ask her what she wants to do. Poor kid might be too tired for all of this.”

“Fair.” Astarion pondered her words for a moment.

“Can I help you with anything else?” She asked.

“That’s all for now,” Astarion replied. “…Thank you, by the way. You don’t have to stick your neck out for me anymore, you know?”

“I know,” Lydia replied. “I did this because I wanted to. You’re still my friend -despite everything, I care about you.”

She hung up. Astarion’s phone screen went black. The house was silent again.

***

Gale got stuck in horrible traffic on his first day and ended up arriving 30 minutes late for his morning office hours. He skipped past dropping his lunch off in the breakroom fridge and rushed straight to the office, absolutely mortified that he was so late for his first proper day of class. He was so frazzled he had to double back to grab his coffee from the car.

It wasn’t like there would be anyone there waiting on him- a grand total of one student who knew who he was-, but it certainly made a bad impression to show up late on the first day of class.

Astarion was both bemused and incredibly entertained as he watched Gale flit around their office like a very flustered tornado, trying to cram one hour of planning into the thirty minutes he had remaining.

“You’re going to be fine.” Astarion had assured him. “It’s syllabus week, no one’s expecting Judith Buttler.”

Gale still left for his class 10 minutes early -just in case his classroom had teleported to a different dimension since he last visited it. It hadn’t. It turned out the room was exactly where he’d left it at the end of a strange little corridor in the library, and in fact, there were already two students waiting for him.

Xenia sat near the back of the classroom, wearing the facial expression of a kitten that was being petted too hard, as a pinch-faced, red-headed young woman combed her fingers through the knots in her hair.

“I can’t believe you’re not embarrassed to go out in public looking like this.” The pinch-faced woman scolded.

“It’s ha-ard to brush my hair with my non-dominant hand…” Xenia’s eyes bulged out of her head as the woman pulled her fingers through a particularly difficult knot.

“Chk. I’ll put it in a braid then, so you aren’t struggling to brush it.” She started dividing Xenia’s dark hair into sections no more gently than she’d detangled it.

“Hello Xenia, It’s good to see you again. How are you doing?” Gale asked as he set his satchel down behind the podium.

“Oh, I’ve been worse… I’ve also been better- Lae’zel, that hurts!” She squealed as the pinched-faced woman, Lae’zel apparently, tugged the braid tight.

“Then sit still so it will end faster.” Lae’zel scolded her. “I have younger siblings that squirm less than you, and they’re still in diapers.”

“I guess you’ll have to work on instilling more terror in my heart then,” Xenia replied. She gripped the edges of her desk with white knuckles as Lae’zel wrenched her head back.

Lae’zel hummed as if that was a legitimate suggestion. “Yes, I think we would have a much stronger working relationship if you feared me just a little more…”

Lae’zel finally let go of Xenia, who let out a breath like she’d narrowly avoided being hit by a bus as she pulled a few face-framing pieces from the clutches of her new French braid. Lae'zel turned her sights on Gale- though he desperately hoped it wasn't because she was planning on braiding his hair, too. “You must be the new English adjunct.”

“Yes, I’m Dr. Dekarios!” Gale replied. “You must be Lae’zel? The athletic director speaks very highly of you.”

“As he should.” Lae’zel nodded like he’d just given her the correct answer in an oral exam. “You should know that I designed to take this course this semester because I thought it would be taught by Dr. Ancunín rather than Dr. Shadowheart. I will be quite displeased with you if your teaching methods are as frivolous and unstructured as Shadowheart’s.”

Xenia’s eyes went wide, and her mouth formed a silent ‘Oh’ sound as she looked back and forth between Gale and Lae’zel.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching Dr. Shadowheart teach, so I don't know how our teaching methods compare, but I will not deign to be frivolous or unstructured.” Gale laughed nervously.

“I think she is perfectly competent as a professor of literature, but she does quite poorly with the more structured elements of the genera. Dr. Ancunín does not fare much better, but he is preferable to Shadowheart.” Lae’zel explained as if Gale had genuinely asked her option. “You should know that thus far, you have not made a positive impression on me… you were quite late posting the syllabus.”

“My apologies, Lae’zel,” Gale replied, hand on heart. “I got let into my faculty account one week before the semester began.”

“Hm, yes.” Lae’zel considered his response. “This school does have abysmal technical support, so I shall let it slide this time.”

By that time, a few more students had filed in, and it was about time for class to start- or Gale was desperate not to hear any more unsolicited criticism of his colleagues. Astarion was right. The class went perfectly fine. He explained the structure of the course, and had everyone introduce themselves and state their major (he found out Xenia was there because she was a phycology major), before he explained the purpose of taking an upper level grammar and style.

“The purpose of learning advanced grammar is not to improve your everyday language… If the person you are talking to understands what you are saying, then there is nothing wrong with your grammar… Language should evolve to fit the speaker, the speaker should not evolve to fit the language… However, if you are going into a field like law or communication where you’ll be expected to use very precise language…”

It went by in a flash, and Gale could hardly remember if he got everything that he needed to into the lecture by the time class ended, but if anyone was unclear about anything, they didn’t let him know at the moment. He barely registers Xenia darting out of the room before he finishes saying, “Have a nice rest of your day.” A few people lingered to give him the heads up about things in their personal lives that might interfere with class, and one student wanted to know if he’d receive their letter of accommodation, but before long, there was a small congregation of people forming at the door waiting for Gale to leave so the next class can take over the space.

He walked back to his office with a spring in his step. He didn’t even mind that much when it started to pour rain, and he realized he had forgotten his umbrella in the car.

***

It wasn’t much dryer in the humanities building. Gale dodged around liner-less trash bins set up under bulging ceiling tiles dotting the hallway. In the break room, Karlach was holding a bookcase steady so Shadowheart could climb on top of it.

Gale paused and walked back to the breakroom to make sure he saw that right.

He did.

“Do you… need help with something?” he asked sheepishly.

“Nope, I think we’ve got it!” Karlach replied, ducking out of the way of one of Shadowheart’s heels. “Water pools in AC vents when it rains, so we have to bang on them a couple of times to make sure it doesn’t collapse.”

“O-oh?” Gale looked up and realized one of the panels of the overhead duct was swelling dangerously. “Shouldn’t we put in a work order?”

“Be my guest,” Shadowheart said. She precariously balanced on her knees, and Gale held his breath as the bookshelf wobbled underneath her. “But maintenance won’t get to it before the break room floods.”

She reached up and banged on the ductwork above her head, and the vent in the middle of the room started dribbling yellowish-brown water. Suddenly, there was a strange gurgling noise, then a thunk! as the panel popped back into proper shape.

“Great work, Jen!” Karlach whooped, holding out a hand to help Shadowheart jump down. They high-fived, and Shadowheart went about smoothing out her clothes, grumbling under her breath when she realized there was a massive run in her tights.

“This kind of thing happen often?” Gale asked.

“Only when it rains!” Karlach chirped. She checked her watch and immediately started towards the door. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to get to my day job.” She gave Gale a friendly pat on the shoulder as she passed him. “If the vents start to flood again, it’s your and fancy pants’ turn to fix it!”

“I don’t know if that bookshelf will support either of our weights…” Gale balked.

“Not with that attitude, soldier!” Karlach called as the stairwell door swung closed behind her.

“You can poke it with a handle broom until it corrects; it just takes longer,” Shadowheart assured him. “I’ve got to go switch tights before I get to my next class. I don’t know if you’ve had the displeasure of meeting her yet, but God forbid Lae’zel catches me with a run in my pantyhose.”

“Oh, so she does talk like that to your face then?” Gale replied. “I didn’t know if I should-”

“Talks like what- never mind, don’t tell me!” Shadowheart huffed. “I swear, after everything I’ve done for that girl- I’ll talk to you later!” She turned on her heels and followed Karlach up the stairs.

Gale sighed in relief, ready to hold up in his office for a little while. He reached into the front pocket of his satchel for his keys only to find it empty. Cursing under his breath, he thumbed through the things in the main pocket, hoping he’d accidentally mixed them in with everything else- nothing. Finally, he pulled out his phone only to find a series of texts from Astarion.

A: You left your keys.

Then, a little while later.

A: I’m going to be out of office when you get back. A: Ask Mizora on the second floor for the spare key, good luck.

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serpentthecrow · 1 year

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Queen of thieves 3

Chapter 3: you'd know better

====================================

It's an automatic reaction.

Learned from years of being the best assassin Ketterdam has seen to date.

I look at Kaz, Kaz looks at me. I prepare my knife, he tightens the grip on the crow-headed cane in his hand. I hide next to the door, while he presses against the wall behind his desk.

I'm counting seconds.

One, breathe in. Two, the old floorboards crack slightly under the heavy steps. Three, breathe out. Four, breathe in and smell- cigar smoke?

And then it all crumbles. A man walks through the door and my dagger misses him by a thread's width. Kaz swings at him but the crow's beak only glistens in the light of the nearest candle, missing it's target.

We are both distraught by the nearing nightmare. And before we know it, there's three of them. One holds my hands behind my back and kicks the back of my knees so they hit the ground. The remaining two wrangle Kaz down as well and it takes every fiber of my being not to scream out for them to let him go, but I can't reveal his weakness, or mine.

I can basically sense the water rising up to his throat, freezing droplets of sweat drenching his visage.

And then, our blood runs cold. You can hear the clink of the expensive shoes. You can feel that crooked kaelish smirk. You can smell that cigar smoke and last and definitely least, you can see that tailored suit and the well groomed beard.

Pekka Rollins enters Kaz's office.

Our bodies go rigid in the iron grip of the Dime Lions and our faces are rid of any colour. "Good evening, Mr. Brekker" The owner of the emerald palace growls in that disgusting accent of his, and I can't help but spit on the floor.

As a reward, I receive a knife to the throat and the gaze of the man that makes every eye contact dreadful. "And Miss.. Brekker" Pekka amusedly adds, and I hold myself back from the instinctive widening of my eyes. I want nothing more than to look at Kaz, who's lowly hissing in pain from the pressure on his bad knee, but it would only make matters worse.

Rollins is the first one to lose our staring contest when he turns back to my brother. I see the head of Kaz's cane glisten and I know that this is a bussiness visit. In the same moment the man outstretches his arm, I speak, to avoid as much damage as I can.

"Stop" my voice is not necessarily loud, but it is powerful, so much it makes the Pekka Rollins felter in his tracks."You are here for bussiness, so be it."

I curse myself for the light accent in my voice, it sounds so much like my father's. At the mention of bussiness, Pekka's eyebrows raise and he sniffles, as if smelling the kruge landing in his pocket. "Let's make a deal, shall we" I continue when given the sign I have his attention. "I add.. let's say sixty kruge, step off the job, and you walk out without whacking my brother in the face."

He seems to ponder, when in reality all that is going on in his mind is the clink, clink, clink of coins.

"Seventy" he haggles. "Fifty five" I smirk. "Sixty five" "fifty six, inflation" is my final statement.

Pekka grins and looks somewhere behind me. The man holding the blade to my neck pushes it harder against my skin, leaving a cut in it's wake. "Fifty eight" speaks Rollins at last. "Fine" I huff, faking irritation.

"Will you at least let me go so I can pay you?" I ask, and to my surprise, the clinks of kruge dull all of Pekka's other senses, because my hands are released and the pressure on my throat is gone.

I stand up, but I don't have the strength to look Kaz in the eye. We don't want to leave the job to Rollins, not at all. It's a million kruge for fuck's sake. I walk towards my coat that hangs by the door and pull out a bag of coins. I hand it to Pekka, and just like I expected, I am tackled to the ground again.

If I don't want to see my brother's broken nose, I should do something.

There is something that most of the people in the room don't know, which works as an advantage. The man behind me is not holding my hands apart like he should. Not the way you are supposed to bind a grisha. I connect my palms behind my back and the room is enveloped in darkness in matter of seconds.

The Dime Lions start panicking and running around like ants. My shadows throw most of them out of the window, the rest runs off at their own.

The Kaelish prince is pinned to the wall when I step closer to him. I take the pouch from his hand amd stuff it into the pocket of his waistcoat, patting it afterwards. "Always a pleasure making bussiness with you, Pekka" I say with a devilish smile.

Then I release him.

Before he scrambles out the door Kaz just has to kick the beehive."tell me" he pants, panic attack undoubtedly behind the corner."have we ever made a deal before?" He asks."the two of us?" Pekka says, examining Brekker's face. "Nah" he breaks the pause "otherwise you'd know better. Or you'd be dead." With that he's gone.

Hypocritically, i trust Rollins with one thing. He will keep his mouth shut. What do I pay him for? I feel Kaz's question thicken the air between us.

"what in Ghezen's name was that?"

===============================

A/n: I am SO sorry my darlinggsss. I had so many big exams so I didn't manage to write as much. I shouldn't have any for a bit now, so I should write a bit more. I hope the wait was at least a bit worth it! As always, I appreciate all interactions and responses! Luv u❤️❤️❤️If you'd also like to requests something, my requests are open, please read my pinned post before requesting, there you'll find rules but also the fandoms I write for ❤️❤️

Taglist: @mxacegrey @sande5098 @outlawqueen17 @budugu @stickyfictioninwriting @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @dumb-fawkin-bitch @noctemys @pomagranteseeds

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#six of crows #kaz brekker #grishaverse #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse fanfic #kaz brekker imagine

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