#im a little disappointed that every time i think about branching out into a new fandom i find reasons to avoid it

[flame-shadow]

I'm catching back up with the wings of fire series and part of me wondered if I should try to interact with general wof fandom. Last time I checked the tags, it was a whole lotta shipping shit, and when I checked again today, wouldn't you know it- it still is. And it's a shame so many artists stick with the official style of dragons because imo they're not that great looking and it feels like a whole batch of dragon artists are gonna carry this style far into the future. Alas.

[limelocked]

some backstory: basically look at this post then work on the assumption that phil is like Ancient/ages slower than humans/players

phil meets babyblade for the first time (brought to you largely unedited from discord messages)

---

thinking about phil being a traveller, walking or flying from town to town trying to find the new place to stay for like 100 years as a cryptid, passing thought a town, well developed with electrical streetlights not yet too common for testificates or players. The day pass slowly into night and with an unwillingness to take into an inn he settles to finding a cave or tree to camp in.

Techno is at that point perhaps half Phils height but still built shockingly strong for a child and he knows well not to disturb armed people sleeping in the woods. The dew clings to his hooves and fur as he inspects the man sleeping among the leaves and his wings. Phil is already awake, watching back from under the shade of his hat, seeing this upright, scar covered, piglet inspect him. Phil slowly moves as if he's just woken up and techno scampers away

phil knows about pigmen, hes never seen one of course but he's heard plenty about them. Theres villager texts with myths about them and its generally accepted that they're the cause of ruined structures though different cultures seem to disagree on if they caused the ruin or caused the building now in disrepair. He asks in town about pigmen but they only talk about what a pest the zombie pigmen and piglins that come through the resident portal are, the undertone of hate matching that of those that theorize towards the more... evil side of the pigmen. 

 They have heard nothing about any pigmen in the area, for all the town knows, and for all that most people know. They dont exist and they might never have

So he goes back to the forest and "accidentally" leaves some food and trinkets at the food of the tree, barely getting any sleep as he waits for the little creature to arrive. And he does. And with caution the piglet studies the food and items for a while, freezing with every movment of the wind through phils great folded wings. Techno takes some of the food, not all of it, and none of the items even though a cheap dagger seemed to make him hesitate on that choice

It goes on for a few nights, phil sleeping through most of them but knowing who it was that took the gifts and left the little napkin neatly still covering what he didnt take and who he found one morning returning with a handful of berries as a return gift. Phils back fucking hurt sleeping in the tree but he'd gotten invested now so what're you gonna do yknow?

Its noon after a week and a day and phil is half nocturnal because of this little thing coming to take and give like trade under his tree. He's almost falling asleep when bushes move and he's back on (exhausted) high alert. He doesnt move. Under him theres no napkin or items or food this time, he just needed a nap, but that doesnt bother the pink spot down on the ground from moving closer and inspecting the spot.  He's disappointed but returns shortly after with more berries and a messy leg of lamb. He thinks, as phil will never find out, that he's stolen everything this stranger has in terms of food so he has to give back some that he's gotten himself right? its only polite? 

"did you get the lamb by yourself?" to say that techno jumped out of his skin would be an underestimation. 

He didnt freeze but instead, just as cautiously as he seemed to do everything, hunched down into a fighters stance knowing well that the man with wings above him could easily catch him "dont worry mate" phils tone became softer, testing the bounderies of this child "-im not going to hurt you if that's what youre worried about"

he didnt change positions other than to look up slowly to.... g- glare? was this little pig kid GLARING at him?! what was that gonna do?? who would be intimidated by this adorable little fuck?!?! Phil would admit it every time anything even remotely related came up later that he laughed, i mean who wouldnt? hed liken it to a puppy glaring you down and how could that be taken seriously its just cute if anything 

techno, covered in scars of battles both with people and with nature, looked at this winged man in almost disbelief. phil, the nicknamed angel of death who seemingly could never die himself, was almost falling off the branch he'd been using as a bed for a week clutching his stomach as he laughed.

"what?!" the impatient, small, voice piped up after a few seconds "whats so funny!?" the seriousness both stopped phil in his tracks and Didnt Help At All. the tone was serious and.. desperate. it caught him off guard and finally his balance fails and he falls, unfurling his wings to catch himself and kicking up leaves and dust from the ground before his adorable little thief 

 "you're a piglet, you couldnt beat me up so stop looking like it" this was the closest the two had ever been, still a few meters apart but it was apparent that techno had only just realized just how Tall phil was compared to him, and how imposing his wings were when stretched to their full width

"heehh i could totally kill you" fake it til you make it, a strategy that had won him many battles before and it had only failed him.... a few times....  "oh could you?" while techno sounded cocky and serious phil was playful and in the ears of this kid, taunting  "mm.. ya" but phil didnt fail to notice how easily a child had threatened murder

-

A month can go quick and a conversation can go slow. A festival had been set up in the time that it took the two to finish their talk under the tree, or so techno would have you believe. There had been three weeks of food being left by both parties and playful banter countered by genuine threats becoming less so by the meeting. Phil had gifted techno, who'd in exchange given his name, the dagger he'd looked at that first night. The exchange was there sure but phil had also had to joke about techno not being able to kill him with bare hoof hand things, he'd need, yknow, a weapon

They sat then, that meeting in the woods a month after their first encounter, sharing food in relative silence. "-and you dont have any parents im guessing or else you'd not be hanging out with this stranger" phil said absentmindedly, a retort to his own lack of family

"fuck off"

stunned. he looked at techno shocked not only at the swear but at the nerve he'd apparently struck, "sorry mate- didnt mean.." he trailed off, studying the pigs reaction but there was none, he'd just kept eating... he watched for a moment more before debating taking another bite of his own food but, no, no he could be stupid "that means you can travel more though right?" a recovery, but only a stepping stone

"mm, guess so yeah" bait effective

"have you been to to the north much?" "... nah.. mostly around here and west" there was a long pause before the eventual "i think" that phil had come to expect at this point, though this time it wasnt accompanied by an equally unsure "im pretty sure"

"well im leaving town, could come with me?"

[littlebitoffanfic]

The Warriors Smile

Fandom: Pocahontas Characters: Kocoum, Kekata, Nakoma, Pocahontas Relationship: Kocoum AN: So I remember seeing this request for Kocoum, but I cant seem to find the specific request. I remember it being about him not dying and the reader traveling with John and the reader falling in love with Kocoum and respecting his culture, but the details are foggy. Im not sure if this was what you had in mind, but I hope it satisfies you for now and if ive totally miss remembers the request or its not what you were looking for, just let me know 😊

  You didn’t like being on deck when it was such a storm. You were useful as a medic, but your training didn’t extend to battle the harsh sea. But after John had jumped overboard for Thomas, you came to make sure they weren’t injured. John saw your sour face when the men started talk of killing anyone you came across in the new world. After he came down from the crows nest, he tried to cheer you up, not knowing that you only stayed on deck to speak with him. “You look like you were the one who fell overboard.” He leaned against the banister, his face scrunched up in fake concern. “I wish you wouldn’t call them savages.” You mumbled to John, not having enough energy to fight with the rest of the crew. “But they are.” He looked at you perplexed. “Besides, everyone else on this ship calls them sav-“ “You’re not everyone else, John. And they look up to you. You cant have not noticed Thomas following you around like a shadow.” You saw the smirk pull at his lips meaning he knew what you were talking about. 

“He listens to you, too. Hes becoming pretty knowledgeable with medical stuff because he follows you around like a child.” John fires back, and he was right. But only because you warned Thomas that you might not always be around and he needed to know enough in case something happened to you. “Just, just remember. They’re humans too.” You huffed, wanting to move the subject back. “But they’re different.” John kicks off a boot to pour out some water. “They aren’t as different as you think, John. We’re different. Most people on this ship are different. Different eye colour, hair colour, height, weight, built.” You wave to the crew who weren’t paying any head as they secured the deck. “But i bet they have hearts that beat, lungs that breath and blood that runs red.” “Maybe I’ll find you a savage for you to find out.” John smirks at you as he tries to lighten the mood, but the moment he saw you weren’t impressed, he stopped. John could normally read you like a book. You had bother grown up together, and he pulled you along on his adventures many times. He got into fights and you patched him up. You had warned him that you were just a nurse, and one day you might not be able to patch him up. But he dismissed you as a ‘rambling wife’. Not that you were married, or anywhere near a relationship. In truth, you were sure you two would rip each others throats out if left alone too long. But people often assumed there was more than friendship. “I truly hope you are joking, John. No one deserves to die for simply being alive.” You shake your head, disappointed as you stand, rubbing your arms. You turn to disappear back into your quarters, hoping your words might have some weight with the man.

------time skip ---------------

 When John disappeared from the landing party, you found yourself wondering into the surrounding woods. You knew you would be chastised for it later, but you didn’t care. It was so beautiful. you wouldn’t go too far, venturing about 15 minutes away from the others until you found a clearing. The way the sun shone down on the forests was like something out of a fairy-tale. You were so lost in the beauty of it all that you almost didn’t notice the small chirping coming from the ground beside you. Glancing down, you saw a small bird. It had a yellowy orange chest, with a blue back and black markings. Crouching down, you wondered why a bird would be this close to the ground. It seemed dangerous. Unless something was wrong with him? The bird began to jump to you, but you saw its left leg wasn’t taking any pressure and it hobbles a little. “Shhh.” You picked up the small bird with ease and sat down with your legs crossed, your skirt making a small nest for the animal to sit in. “I think you have dislocated your leg, sir.” You mused, gently wrapping the bird in the towel and making sure you could still get to the leg . You grabbed some small bandages you used for fingers and smaller cuts and folded it in half so it was the length of the birds leg. You wrapped the small leg till you felt it had enough padding without hindering the bird too much and then tied it up. “All done. My fee will be in the mail.” You laugh to yourself, even though there was no one around to hear your little joke. You unwrap the bird, which tweets happily. “Lets get you somewhere high.” Getting to your feet, you hold the bird in your hands, leaving the towel and your medical supplies on the floor as you searched the surrounding trees till you found a branch about the hight of you eyes. Taking the bird over, you place it on the tree, but the branch wasn’t thick enough and you didn’t think it was high enough either. “Higher?” You ask, even though the bird has no say as you pick it up again, venturing to another tree which was higher up. The bird didn’t even move from your hand as you reached up to let it go onto the branch. It started tweeted, looking up to a near by tree. You followed its eyes and saw a small bundle of sticks and twigs nestled between two thick branches. The problem was that the nest was about 10 foot off the ground. You groaned, walking up to the tree and looking up at your new destination. There was a branch that you could grab onto, but you didn’t know if you had the upper body strength to pull yourself up and hold yourself with just one free hand. Moving the bird into one hand, you reached up and grabbed the branch. You managed to walk up the tree and pull yourself up till you were eye level with the branch you were holding, but your arm was shaking. You were almost parallel to the branch as you glanced down, seeing you were now a good 5 foot off the ground.  Before you could even reach out and attempt to put the bird up to its nest, your arm spasmed and you lost your grip. You didn’t even have a chance to yell as you fell, preparing yourself to crash on the ground. Until arms caught you. Your eyes had been scrunched shut, expecting pain, so your mind immediately thought John or one of the others had found you. Opening your eyes, you forgot how to breath. The man who had caught you was unbelievably handsome. Strong cheek bones and jaw line with dark brown, intelligent eyes that stared back at your own. You knew your surprise was painted on your face, but his was stoic, like a warrior. He had long hair with shaven sides, like a mohawk, but the hair fell to the left and down to his shoulder, and white feathers adorned the back of his head. The man lowered you to the ground gently. You both watched each others every movement, trying to work out if the other was dangerous or not. Just because you refused to call them savages didn’t mean you trusted them completely. You were on their land, their homes. They were within their rights to chase you off or punish you if they saw fit. The bird chirped in your hands. Apparently, you had tried to protect the bird from the fall rather than try held yourself. Great self-preservation skills. The man took a few steps back from you but before you could ask why, he ran at you. You let out a small yelp, turning away to try protect yourself. But then you heard a grunt. Looking through your hair, you saw he had ran right past you. And up the tree. He was holding himself on the branch, managing to get enough momentum to get past the lower branch and brace himself on it with a straight elbow on one hand. The sheer strength in his arm was shown by the muscles. He reached out to you, eyes darting to the bird. You instantly understood and went to him, placing the bird carefully in his outstretched hand. He rose it to the nest and the bird jumped happily into its home. You smiled widely, happy that the animal could recover from its injury in its home from a little while. Perhaps you could bring it some food later. The man looked back to you, and you caught his eyes. Despite your smile, his face stayed stoic. Taking a step back, you allowed the man space to jump back down, landing elegantly before straightening back up. He towered over you, and you suddenly felt rather intimidated by his presence as your eyes fell to the red markings on his chest. Two clawed paws. Like a bears or wolfs. You opening your mouth, about thank him when you heard voices calling your name. Whipping to look over your shoulder to where the voices came from, you started to panic. If they found this man, he was dead. Looking back to him, you saw his eyes darting to the sound as well, his stance strong. In fact, you could see that he was growing more hostile with every call. “you need to go.” You whispered, drawing his attention back to you. But his eyes showed confused. He couldn’t understand you. You tried make a shooing motion with your hands, but he only grew more perplexed. Eventually, you were drawn to more drastic measures. You placed your hands on his bare chest and pushed him back behind the tree. He stumbled slightly, before his stance became really aggressive. But he was out of sight now. You backed off, pressing your fingers to your lips as you silently begged him to stay hidden. And just in time. “[y/n]!? Where have you been?” Thomas called out to you and you flashed the man a small smile before walking back to your items. “Frolicking through the flowers, are we?” Ben laughed but ti quickly stopped. “Whats that on your hand, lass?” Looking down, you saw some of the red paint from the stranger had rubbed off onto your hand. “Oh, I found an injured bird.” You wiped the evidence on your skirt as you gathered up your things. “We better get you back.” Thomas looked to the sky, the sun lower in the sky. “Okay. I’ll follow.” You nod, throwing your bag over your shoulder. The two men retreated back into the woods, you following behind. But not before you could steal a glance back to the tree, seeing the stranger watching. You smiled at him before turning back. You heard the men grumbling about having to dig for gold. You would certainly make sure Ratcliff had a piece of your mind if he thought for a second you’d be digging. however, the moment you got back, all hell broke loose. Guns were firing, and crys that there was savages. Ducking behind a waggon, you saw them firing at some people in the trees, and they hit one. That might have been the end of it, but then you saw the man from the forest. He scooped up his fallen alley and carried him back into the wood as they all retreated. Stuck in a conflict, you stayed hidden as you thought. You owed him something. Not your life, but he had saved you from a broken hip or a concussion. And you knew they probably wouldn’t be able to treat a gun wound. You thought of the man, suffering in agony before dying with no understanding of what had hit him. So you did the unthinkable. Racing into the woods, you followed them, until they reach a village. You almost collapse when you see the colony of small huts. The crew would slaughter them as sure as day. A deep sickness filed your stomach as you press your hand over your mouth. You took an oath to help people, not hurt them. Holding the strap of your bag, you take a shaking breath. You could very well be walking into certain death, but that man needed your help. Taking a deep breath, you circled the outside of the village until you saw them taking the injured man into a hut. That must be either his home, or a medical place. You would bet the latter. Slipping inside, the group were too preoccupied with the wounded man to notice someone who wasn’t like them had entered. You felt like you had just entered a sleeping lions den. So you cleared your throat. Like lions, they turned and bore weapons at you as if they were fangs. “No, I want to help.” You held your hands up to show you meant no harm, but the men couldn’t understand you. You looked around, trying to figure out a way to show them you wanted to help him. Pulling the bag open, you pulled out the bandage you had. Showing it to them that it wasn’t a weapon, you began to wrap it around your arm. “Help.” You repeated, pointing to the gunshot wound. Their eyes narrowed, but none protest as you moved closer to the injured as you unravel the bandage from your arm. You would need it. You inspected the gunshot wound. There was no way he could survive this without medical help. But you would need the take the bullet out, clean the wound and sew him shut. You didn’t notice the chief looking to the man you had met not an hour ago. There was a silent understanding between them to let you be unless you caused any issues. And the shaman had said he didn’t know how to heal such wounds. “I need to take the bullet out.” You spoke, knowing they couldn’t understand everything you said. You rummaged to the bottom of your bag and found the spare bullets that the men had dropped. Pulling them out, you showed the man you assumed to be the leader one of the bullets between your thumb and pointing finger. You then mimicked how the men held the guns and made a quiet gun shot noise before showing them the bullet flying to his wound. Eyes widened as they realises what you were saying. “We need to take it out.” You pull out your bullet remover. It was a relatively new invention in the medical word, only about 50 years old but it was a key part of your tool kit. But you didn’t know it they would understand that. Your eyes flickered to the head healer, who looked to chief. A breeze came through the tent, making you shudder while the small group closed their eyes for a brief moment. When the chief opened his eyes, he nodded to the head healer who looked back to you. “Save him.” He told you, making your eyes widen at his English. But you nodded, and got to work. They let you work without question but with watchful eyes. You warned it would hurt, and apologised. But the man gritted his teeth and managed to stay still. Bullets were kind of a speciality of yours. It wasn’t something you were proud of, but it was a fact. the bullet was out with 5 minutes. But that didn’t mean it was over just yet. You sewed up the wound, trying to make it as neat as you could. “You’re doing really well. Im nearly done, I promise.” You glance to the injured man, and you could see the relief in his eyes. “Why did you come?” Their leader asked you. “To help. Im a medic. I took a vow to heal people where I could.” You answer truthfully as you wipe away the blood from around the wound and placing a gauge over it. “Your people caused this.” The chiefs words made you flinch. “My people are ignorant and arrogant. I am not like them. I don’t want a war or anyone to get hurt.” You shook your head, feeling the guilt in your stomach. “Why?” he knelt next to you, his eyes watching your face closely. “All blood is red. Its my job to heal that.” You look at him, hoping he might understand your reasoning more than you did. “We cannot let you leave.” The chief stated as he stood, but you had prepared for this. “if you don’t, they will come to find me.” You answer, looking up at him. “Then how do we know we can trust you?” he asked, his chin rising as he spoke to look down at you. “You cant.” You answered honestly, your eyes dropping. “But I can trade you supplies. Like these. To help if you do get into fights. I don’t have much, but it will help you.” The chief regarded you for a moment, his mind thinking over your deal. “Are they dangerous?” The leader asked you as you focused than you needed to on tying the bandage. Pressing your lips together in a straight line, you nodded once. “Leave by night fall. Do not return.” He spoke with authority and you nodded, thankful he was allowing your freedom. “Thank you.” You bowed your head to him out of respect as you packed your things. “We will fight this enemy, but we cannot do it alone. Kocoum-“ the chief was answered as the stranger from earlier stood and followed him. “Send messengers to every village in our nation. We will call on our brothers to help us fight.” He walked out the door, the stranger from earlier at his side as he addressed his people. “These white men are dangerous. No one is to go near them.” You sat back on your heels, unsure what to think. Had you condemned your friends? But these people had a right to know, to protect themselves, didn’t they? You were conflicted, torn between the right thing to do. The lead healer hummed a little, regarding you. You held out a spare gauge and bandage to him, which he took along with a bottle of anti-septic. “Its incredible, how calm he was.” You look at the man, who lay with his eyes closed as if in a trance. “I will speak on your healing once it is done.” He muses, but his eyes danced with some amusement as you smiled at him. He pushed a bowl of water to you so you could wash the blood off your hands. Just as you were drying your hands, the stranger from earlier stepped back in. Kocoum. “I hope to meet you again, child. But not in such circumstances.” The healer smiled, nodding to you before he continued his chant from earlier, signalling it was your time to leave. Kocoum snuck you out the back, and guided you through the forest in silence. You followed without question, occasionally falling behind a little but always catching up until you saw the wooden logs being hauled up to build a fortress. Placing a hand on Kocoums arm, you stopped him. “You shouldn’t go any further.” You told him, your eyes screaming apologies to him as you stepped in front. “But im glad we met again, even if the circumstances were awful.” Kocoum nodded, and you were sure if he was agreeing with you or simply acknowledging your words. “Goodbye.” You step away from him, and he gives you a small bow, before he moves behind a tree, hiding. When you emerge, it feels like the entire crew fauns over you, worried. But Ratcliffe suddenly appears, parting the crew like a sea as he regards you. “Where did you run off to?” he asks, his voice not showing any concern for your wellbeing but probably for your lack of labour. “The guns and fighting scared me. I ran to the woods for cover and got lost.” You lied. “And did you… find anything?” Ratcliffe prys, leaning down as if to intimidate you but you stood your ground. “No.” You shook your head, not breaking under his pressure. he huffed, demanding everyone gets back to word before retreating to his quarters. As the crew disperses, you steal a glance to the woods, unable to see Kocoum anymore.

  -------------time skip ------------

You told yourself that you were just going to feed the bird. That’s the only reason you were going back to that clearing. But you weren’t. That man had plagued your sleep, and you wanted to see him again. walking through the forest, you wondered if you were lost, until the clearing came into view. Digging into your bag, you grabbed the paper bag of bread pieces and seeds you had managed to get your hands on. Walking up to the tree, the bird appeared on the lower branch that you could reach, apparently recognising you and tweeting happily. You took a palm full of the food and held it up to the creature, who happily jumped onto your wrist to peck at the food. “Thank you.” A voice spoke from behind you, making you jump. But when you saw it was Kocoum, you relaxed. You had never heard him speak before. “How is he doing?” You ask, going back to your task of feeding the bird. You could just leave the seeds on the branch, but you wanted to be doing something. “He grows stronger every day.” Kocoum informs you. “That’s good. I cant imagine the fear he must have felt.” You muse, as the bird jumps onto your fingers, hopping across your hand to stand on your palm to peak at the food. You were grateful because you could lower your arms, which were hurting a little. “Why did you follow?” Kocoum suddenly asked as you turned and sat at the bottom of the tree. In truth, you knew it was risky. Any instinct you had told you to run away, but you were so interested by him that all you really wanted to do was talk. “I already told you. I don’t like seeing others suffer.” You move the seeds into one hand, freeing your right hand. With the back of your pointing finger, you stroke the birds head, smiling. “Plus, I own you for saving me from a nasty fall.” He didn’t laugh with you, but you didn’t mind. You were a stranger to him, an enemy even. Kocoum stayed standing, but backed away so he wasn’t looming over you. It suddenly dawned on you that you knew his name, yet he didn’t know your own. “Im [y/n].” you suddenly say, wanting to right that wrong. “Kocoum.” He pressed a fist to his chest. “I know.” You smile, amused by the birds trust in you as you petted it. Looking up, you saw Kocoum was confused and, perhaps, suspicious. “I heard the others call you by that name.” Your explanation seemed to ease his suspicions, but not completely erase them. He sat with you for an hour or so, and you told him about your home. You didn’t want to ask about his own in case he thought you were going to relay information. When you noticed that your absents would soon be reported, you stood. Placing the bird back in the tree, you told Kocoum goodbye, but he followed you. At first, it made you a little uneasy, until you reached the edge of the forest and it dawned on you that he was making sure you got back safely. Before you could turn and thank him, he was gone. For the next few days, you found yourself running off to the clearing, and most times he was there. There was the occasion that he wasn’t, but he seemed to like your little meeting. You were both suspicious of each other, but it seemed to ease out as you both spoke. Well, you spoke and he listened. He would ask questions, and seemed interested in you, but didn’t seem like much of a talking. You joked about it, saying that it was fine because you could talk the ear off anyone, so you could easily make up for it. And, at the, he smiled. You nearly fainted. In the setting sun, in this beautiful clearing with this handsome man, he smiled at you. Your legs were jelly as you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks. “Your voice like bird song.” Kocoum’s words would be the death of you, you were sure of it. Now a blushing mess, stumbling over your words, you knew it was time to head home. He accompanied you as always, and yet he stayed a little close than normal. Just before you reached the outskirts, he grabbed your hand. “Stay safe.” He whispered, and you could see the corner in his eyes. “You too.” You returned the concern before the two of you parted.

-------time skip ----------

Whatever was going on with John, you were worried. Pacing by your tent, you wondered where he had ran off to at such an hour. He should know better than to do this. You didn’t want to confide in anyone in case they told Ratcliffs and he got angry. In fact, you hadn’t seen Thomas around either recently. Stopping, you glance around. Something felt off. Suddenly, the calmness of the night was broken by screams. Grabbing your medical bag, you followed the others. Thomas came running, crying out for help, that John had been attacked and taken. You rushed to calm him but the others got there first, demanding to know what happened. “I kill one of them.” Thomas whispered, swaying back and forth before dropping his gun. “You- you did what?!” You nearly shriek, but managed to keep it down as the men gathered weapons. “I shot one. They took John because I killed one of their own.” He scrunched his eyes up, but when he opened them again, you were gone. Running into the forest, you felt yourself trembling as you raced to the tribe, treason be damned. Maybe you could help, or exchange something for John. You didn’t know. “[y/n]!” A voice called out, making you nearly fall over as you stopped, heart beating so loud as you saw a woman running through the forest to you. She stopped when she saw you had noticed her. “Kekata told me to find you. He said… you could help Kocoum.” She seemed unsure as she spoke, her eyes darting around. “He- He was the one shot?” You whisper in disbelief. And she nods. You followed her as she raced back to the hut where you had went to heal the first man. Sneaking around the outside of the village, you both managed to slip inside without notice. Kekata sat by Kocoum side, who was still. You were praying he was asleep. Passing Nakoma, you raced to his side. “It isn’t as the first one was.” Kekata spoke to you quickly, and you could hear the worry in his voice. “No, its in a more dangerous area.” You nodded, confirming his worries. A hand was placed on your shoulder, making you turn to Kekata. “I wanted to give Kocoum a fighting chance. But I do not expect a miracle from you.” his words sunk in as he stood, preparing to leave. You didn’t know what was going on. What was going to happen. “I do not trust the white men. But I trust you. you might save one life, but I suspect blood will still fall at sunrise. Stay here. This is my safe haven for you, for what you have done for us. A debt repaid. Do not come out of this hut. Do you understand me?” Kekata spoke with such urgency and hints of aggression that all you could do was nod. “If he wakes, sound the horn.” Kekata draws your attention away from Kocoum to look the elder. He was standing at the entrance, gesturing to the corner. You didn’t follow his direction, instead noticing Nakoma, who seemed confused and almost fearful that Kekata was leaving you alone with an injured Kocoum. “But I do not know if it will stop the war.” War. The word hit you like a bolt of lightning as the realising dawned on you. You knew what would happen now, but you couldn’t think about it. You just had to focus on saving Kocoum as the two left the hut with no further words. Putting on your calm façade, you told yourself it was just another patient. Your hands shook a little more than normal, and you paused before you went near the wound. But once you got to work, you were immersed. All the items you had given them were laid out to your side, along with your own and 2 bowls of water. Time seemed to drag, and you felt sick, but you pushed through. You heard things happening outside the hut, the warriors marching to battle, but blocked it out until there was silence. Working by candle light, you blinked away an odd tear and focused. Maybe, if Kocoum did wake, you could spare John too. Then its not a life for a life. Shaking away the grim thoughts, you worked through till you heard the morning chirping of birds. It was still mostly dark out. Once you were finished, you sat back. The cloth you had been using to clean the wound was bloody, and you didn’t want to use it any more. Ripping a piece of your shirt, you knew it was freshly cleaned this evening. The first bowl of water was more blood than water now, so you moved on to the fresh bowl and used the rag to carry water and run it over the wound to clean it. You went to the water and wet another tore bit of your shirt before coming up and sitting beside his head to clean his brow. Your eyes darted to the paint on his chest, but you didn’t dare touch it. It wasn’t your place to remove that sort of thing. You didn’t speak, not needing to offer any comforting words to anyone, but the silence was near unbearable as you waited for something to happen. For war to break out? For Kocoum to wake? You really couldn’t put your finger on it. After what felt like a millennium, you noticed his eyes were moving behind his eyelids. You held your breath, your lips pressed together in a harsh line as you tried to keep yourself calm. However, the moment his eyes fluttered open, you broke. Tears of relief streamed down your cheeks as you pressed a hand over your mouth to hid your sobbing. The fear which had had your body in a tight grasp eased the moment he woke, and you had done so well keeping yourself calm while you had been alone that you were overwhelmed. His eyes found you, and he began to sit up, despite the pain he must be feeling. Leaning on his left elbow and forearm, he pushed himself up into a sitting position before you could even talk. “Don’t sit up, it will be painf-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence as a large hand slipped behind your neck and he drew you to his lips. The moment his warm lips met your own, you were a goner. The nurse had left you, replaced with the girl who was screaming with excitement as he kissed you. The kiss was intense, but controlled and carful, just like Kocoum. He controlled every aspect and, if you had been standing, your knees would have been weak. It was so perfect, like a dream which you wished to never wake from. Some part of you was convinced you had falling asleep by his side and you were dreaming all this. You reached up to his face, your fingers gently grazing across his cheek before mirroring his own hold on you by slipping your hand around the back of his head to just above the base of his neck. with your other hand, you gently wrap your hand around his wrist, your thumb pressing against the veins, feeling the pulse beneath the skin. A small shiver ran through your body as you moved closer, running your hand along his arm and to his chest. Pressing an open palm above his heart, you could feel the steady beat. Pulling back, you felt the air flood into your lungs and the tent suddenly seemed to much bigger and brighter. You couldn’t help the red in your cheeks, or the smile on your lips as you look at the man who had stolen your heart from the very moment he had caught you. Much to your surprise, you saw a smile tug at his lips, his eyes dancing with a joy you had never seen before. No one had ever looked at you like that. He looked so happy, so full of life. Suddenly, what was happened beyond the tent hit you like a wave as you jolted back. “We have to tell them you’re alive.” You suddenly say, and you see the happiness be replaced with concern and confusion. “They think you’re dead. They are going to kill John in revenge but Ratcliffes marching to war with them.” You began to panic again as you turn to where Kekata had pointed before he left. In the corner was a horn. Moving from his side, you grabbed the horn. Turning back to Kocoum, you knew you couldn’t ask him. He was already moving way too much and you were terrified his stitches wouldn’t hold. Getting to your feet, you went to the mouth of the hut and looked up at the blue sky, praying it wouldn’t see red today. Taking a deep breath, you raised the horn to your mouth and blew. The sound was deafening but you pushed through for a solid 10 seconds before lowering it. You didn’t know what it would do, or who could hear it. Perhaps you were too late. Some leaf’s rustled as a wind ran through them in your direction, but what you felt was not the wind you knew. It was a small gust, and it seemed to run up your body, winding around your legs and waist before passing your head and fleeing, taking leaf’s with it. You stared in the direction it had went, and something told you that there was still a chance. You jumped when you felt a hand on your lower back, turning to see Kocoum standing behind you. “We need to go to them. They will need proof.” As he spoke, you knew he was right. “But, you are still healing.” You press a hand to his chest, desperate to keep the heart beating within it. “I will have time to heal when this is done.” Kocoum spoke with conviction, but you pressed firmly on his chest. “No, you could undo your stitches.” You shook your head, until a small figure appeared from beside the hut. Your eyes darted to her, nearly jumping at her sudden appearance before you recognised her as the girl from the night before, Nakoma. She looked at Kocoum as if he were a ghost, a hand pressed over her mouth before she stepped forward. “I’ll go. I’ll tell them you are alive.” She nods firmly, before turning on her heel and running off towards wherever the battle was going to happen. Hopefully, the horn was enough to cause a moment of doubt, and Nakoma would be the voice of reason. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late. You pushed your worries to the back of your mind and turned to Kocoum. “You need to rest. Please.” You take his hands in your own and guide him back into the hut and towards the mat. Despite his protests, you helped him lie back down as you chested the stitches and saw they were fine. Although, even if everything did turn out okay, you were sure you would have a battle trying to keep him still to heal. There was not much else to do, but wait.

Within an hour, Nakoma ran back. By the look on her face, it wasn’t good news. You held your breath, waiting for her verdict. Thankfully, the sound of the horn had reached Pocahontas in the forest as she ran to save John. Apparently, this was the one John had been sneaking off to see. She had manged to stop everything, even speaking sense to her father before Nakoma had appeared, telling everyone that Kocoum was alive. But then she grabbed your wrist. “Your leader, a shot hit John. Hes bleeding.” As she spoke, you felt sick to your stomach. Another bullet. Grabbing your bag, you stuffed your medical supplies in. “I’ll go. Will you stay and make sure he doesn’t move? His stitches are fresh and it could do damage.” You didn’t wait for her to respond before taking off in the direction she had came. Something guided you through the woods, until you appeared at the bottom of a hill. You saw your crew on the other side at the bottom of a sheer drop, and Kocoums tribe were on the hill. There was relief on everyone’s face from your crew at your appearance. But you were worried. You had patched John up a fair few times. Your worries were that this time, you couldn’t. Climbing the hill, the tribe parted for you as you came to John. “Another bullet, eh?” you dropped to your knees beside him. he was lying with his head on Pocahontas lap as she soothed him. “Yep, I’ve heard you’re pretty familiar with them.” He tried to laugh, but winces, holding his side where the blood was. When you saw the position of the hole in his shirt, your heart sank. Pulling away the material, your greatest fears were confirmed. “John, the entrance wound is right on top of the scar from before.” Your voice shook and, for the first time since you arrived, you felt useless. “What does that mean?” Pocahontas asked, unsure why that was an issue. “It means I cant help him here. He needs to go back to England and get it surgically removed by a doctor. I don’t have the tools or the ingredients to do it here and I’m totally useless-“ Tears welled in your eyes as you were overcame with emotions. But John interrupted you. “Hey, hey, hey. From what I heard, you’ve been very useful. Theres only so many times a sailor can patch up his ship before he has to put it to specialists, eh? And this ships taken a few waves or two over the years.” He chuckles, wincing yet again. But he soothed you immensely. “I’ll get your bandaged up, give you some stuff for the pain. Im sure Thomas will be by your side the entire way home.” You smile, reassuring both him and yourself.

-----------time skip --------------

You stood by the sea, waiting as John asked. He said she would come say goodbye, and Kocoum had agreed the same. “So, let me get this straight.” You sat, crossed legged by Johns side. “Me and you, two people who get mistaken as a couple all the time, each started a relationship with two members of a tribe who were due to be wed?” “Yeah, funny how things work out, eh.” John smirked. “Look.” Thomas, who had been standing on watch, pointed to the mist that lay thick on the forest floor this morning. You couldn’t see anything at first, until there was the silhouette of not just Pocahontas and Kocoum (you were partly annoyed that he was walking so soon), but also of at least 8 others. The crew held their breath, clutching their guns, until it was revealed the others were carrying baskets of food for the journey home. You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. As Pocahontas came to John, you stood. But Thomas met her, taking off his hat out of respect. “Going back is his only chance. He’ll die if he stays here.” Thomas spoke with her, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. You watched the two with such amazement and respect. Powhatan and Nakoma approached. Powhatan pulled off his shawl and lay it over John. “You are always welcome here. Both of you.” He looked to you as well, making you smile with gratefulness before turning to speak only to John. “Thank you, my brother.” He smiled down at John before retreating. John said farewell to the animals, he then turn to Pocahontas. He cupped her cheek in an intimate way. He asked her to come, and she refused because she was needed by her village. But when he offered to stay, she said he needed to go. Their love would be broken by distance, and as she leaned in and kissed him, you took your leave to go see Kocoum. “Stay.” He took your hands in his own, holding them tightly against his chest as if he never wanted to let them go. You couldn’t help but smile, but you faltered in answering. Was it selfish to stay? John was leaving Pocahontas, with an open invitation back. What if something happened on the way home and they needed a medic? Were you abandoning your promise by staying here? But you were staying as a healer as well, so did that balance everything? Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a hand clapping your back. “Sorry to interrupt.” John called over to you. the smirk on his face was not one you trusted. “You know, [y/n], I think that we need a new nurse. One whos not going to run off and heal the enemy. Not that you’re the enemy now.” He quickly added to Kocoum. “No, I think that you should be somewhere that’s peaceful, somewhere that you cant run into trouble. Like, oh say I don’t know, here? Just something to think about.” If he hadn’t been shot, you might have kicked him. Had everyone been eavesdropping this whole time? Looking back to Kocoum, you couldn’t help but beam at him. “I think that means I can stay.” You nod, bouncing on the balls of your feet with excitement. Kocoum smiled, and you heard him let out a breath that he had been holding. Something small flutters to your side, and you turn your head to see an old friend. The bird, with the blue back, was hovering beside you, chipping before flying into the sky. Something told you that you would see the little guy again. You raced to say goodbye to the crew, and Thomas promised you that he would take care of John no matter what. You told him that you believed in him. John didn’t like long goodbyes, so gave you a handshake along with a smile. “I’ll see you soon, anyway.” You smile. “oh, I’ll be back as soon as I can stand.” He joked. “You know, I would roll my eyes, but Kocoum only got stiches a day ago, and he came to stay goodbye, so I have no doubt that you men are stupid enough to do that.” You returned, swatting his arm. But soon, it was time to part. The sadness you felt from seeing the ship sail into the distance was no unfelt, but as you felt the warmth of Kocoums body beside you, you couldn’t help but be excited for this next chapter of your life. You were welcomed in the village both as a healer and Kocoum’s wife, and quickly became known as the only one who could make the warrior smile.

[yuzukult]

HAPPY 2K BENCH !! you deserve the whole world yk :( you deserve every single one of those followers + a million more !!!

i got a few questions for you :D it's a lot but <33 <3 <3 they're fun questions i swear </3 i even put a little husna flare to em if you couldn't tell KWHKAJSD

1. if you could live in a fictional world, which one would you live in?

2. it's the zombie apocalypse !! (of course there's gonna be a zombie apocalypse question, thisis me we're asking) which one of my tumblr moots would you want to help you survive? other than me, of course, that'd be cheating.

3. what was your favorite childhood snack?

4. which marvel character is your favorite? talk to me about your fav marvel movie, your least fav marvel movie / show, and what you think about marvel's time traveling concept.

5. what are some of the worst movies you've watched?

6. what do you think is the best thing you've ever written? ik it's hard to choose, all your writing's amazing.

7. what kind of superpower would you want? do you think you'd make a good superhero?

8. what are some deal-breakers for you when it comes to relationships, whether it be romantic or platonic?

9. rant to me about a show you're watching <3

10. any advice for the kids who are pursuing the stem branch? aka me #lolzies

im gonna stop at 10 qs but !!! happy 2k to user @/gyukult aha :fboi:

:( you’re too nice husna even though i hate you and bash on you everyday 

f-fun? i hope so.... or else i’m going into this and crying because your questions stress me out. just kidding or whatever is that how people tell jokes 

i answered them below the read more bc it got long LOL

ask me questions for my 2k q&a!!

1. hm. like based off a movie or whatever? i wanna live in the marvel cinematic universe. do you think bucky or steve will notice me? also, wouldn’t it be so interesting to live in a world where there’s these people that call themselves ‘the Avengers’ and dress in colorful spandex or weird robotic armor? (i hope i answered this right.)

2. hm. can i be honest? the rest of gta are a bunch of weaklings and i don’t think any of them could help me survive. they might kill me first actually and it be by accident. if i had to give an answer, jae.

3. i used to live in an area where there were corner stores, and back in the day, snacks were like 25cents a pop but that’s another story for another time. i used to eat a lot of Little Debbies snacks so I would eat like those oatmeal creme pies, the cosmo brownies and the zebra cakes !!!

4. steve rogers but,, you knew that. class A hottie amirite i honestly feel like i’d have to go back and rewatch all those movies a second time (the last time i did that was before infinity war) but i honestly did really like infinity war & end game? i think watching all those movies throughout all those years and then seeing those two movies it just .... hit different. like i think if you didn’t watch any marvel movies and just watched those two, it wouldn’t feel the same way it hit us??? (remember, peter,,, with,,,, tony....) UGH I HATED CAPTAIN MARVEL !!! DID THEY ONLY MAKE THAT MOVIE JUST TO FULFILL THE “FEMALE EMPOWERMENT” AGENDA AND THEN DIDN’T THINK OF HTE PLOT!?!?!?!??!?! I’ M SO MA D?!!?!/ honestly. i’m not sure. i think i’m not the type to pick out a lot of stuff in films but at the same time...... i notice..... a lot of gaps in between things yet at the same time i never care enough to speak up about it? but maybe i can pick your brain on it another day. :D

5. sierra burgess is a loser. to all the boys i’ve loved 3. f9. wonder woman 1984. captain marvel. the new adaption for mulan. tall girl. i probably had way more honestly because you know how i love watching bad movies to give them the benefit of the doubt then being disappointed.

6. this is hard !! but i’m torn between after midnight and hello. i say after midnight because it’s out of my comfort zone to write anything fwd (it’s honestly kind of hard) but i managed to push through that and made it work! and i say hello because it’s one of my first long length fics and it just. i love the meaning behind it and it always has a place in my heart. :(

7. i think i wouldn’t make a good superhero tbh LOL i’m like an anti-hero or something LMFAO but if i were to have a superpower, probably super strength. no reason. just wanna throw stuff around.

8. i’m really big on honesty and respect. if my feet stinks, please tell me. but also there’s just something about respect from both friends and a significant other that i prioritize!! some things about a person’s personality can’t be forced to change, and that’s fine, but if they can’t be at least honest or respectful towards me, which btw is the bare minimum, consider yourself cut off.

9. !!! i’m only watching kitchen nightmares rn !! LMFAO but honestly i get so mad when people waste gordon’s time or act like he’s here for himself when they’re the ones who asked to be on the show??/ like hello did you forget you wrote into the show so you could be helped??? hello???? also i can’t help but wonder like how much time did he spend away from family bc of shows like these only to have ungrateful bitches out here smfh

10. LOL STEM !! i love stem even though i hate it. i think something to keep in mind is that there’s an end goal to this. throughout the ride, you’re gonna feel discouraged and feel like this isn’t for anything. but remember why you did it in the first place. and is it worth it? because that’s how i felt often but i remember taking those trips to job-site tours to see construction in progress, and i’m like yeah. this is why. i like this. i wanna work in this in the future. and i think it’s easy to forget what you’re working for during the obstacles because your head is only wrapped around that and whatever is in the moment, but just remember to step back, breathe and try to remember what you’re in this for !! 

and even if you’re not 100% solid in what you like, don’t forget to try out different things even if they’re not pertaining to your major. you’re young, you have time to figure things out, and when you discover you don’t like something, great! that scratches off one thing on your list. now you’re one step closer to finding something you like.

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter Eight

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want -3- this one is a lil ;-; at the end and i apologize in advance i just like fucking with people c:<

-> Word Count: 2.8k

-> Warnings: pervy doods, blood(?), descriptions of sexual assault

-> Taglist:@5sosfckss @laudthingcat [if you wanna be added lmk <3]

A hand slipped over her mouth and Y/n instantly thought of the germs and squeezed her lips together.

“Don’t move, princess. They’ve come for you. Those fuckers sold you out to the breeders. Or it was that old bitch. You should know better than to trade with the first person who talks to you. You bush people are stupid.” Her bright white smile flashed in the darkness. “Don’t look so scared, I have a way out.”

Y/n nodded as the lady pulled her hand away from her face. The lady held her hand out and Y/n fished a ruby ring out of her sports bra and put it in the lady’s hand. She turned her back on Y/n and walked to a closet.

She opened the door and Y/n followed, holding her sack close to her chest. The lady pulled on the rod for hanging clothes in the closet, which made the wall pop out. She pushed it inside and walked into the wall. She entered the darkness and Y/n put her hands out. She heard voices coming to the room and she quickly closed the wall behind them.

She felt the lady’s hand grip hers suddenly. Y/n wanted to scream but she didn't. Her pulse was vibrating throughout her body.

Words were whispered into the darkness.

“Stairs.” Y/n put her feet down to the next level slowly. They could hear men’s voices above her.

“What the fuck is this?” The men sounded like they were right on top of her.

“She was here.”

Y/n heard the old woman’s voice. She felt cheated and betrayed. For trade she would sell Y/n out. Sell her out to the farms. Y/n knew humanity was a disgusting disappointment, but she still had a hard time imagining a woman turning in another woman to the farms.

“She was here, please. Let him just come home for a few days.”

Y/n continued down the stairs, feeling each step with the tips of her boots. It felt like an eternity had passed by the time they reached the bottom. The voices were gone and what replaced them was a dripping sound and damp cold air. The kind that could only be found underground.

“This was your house wasn’t it?” Y/n whispered.

“Yup. My husband had this installed when we built the house. He worked for the CIA.” Y/n felt her grip her hand again and pull her. “The ground is flat. We have to hurry.”

Y/n was stunned at the fact that no one knew about her underground bunker. But not as stunned as she was about her willingly helping Y/n escape.

“You could’ve sold me to them.” Y/n felt the lady’s fingers grip hers. Her voiced had changed.

“They have no right. No right to do what they’re doing.” The lady’s finger bit into Y/n’s shoulders as she shook her. “You gotta hurry. Don’t come back here. The girls get taken. The hunters are dressed up as traders but they’re not. Run. Feel your fingers along the wall until you see the light in the ceiling. Climb up there. It’s a latch. I have to get back now.”

Before Y/n could thank her the lady was gone. She was alone in the dark.

The fear was crippling her. She reached a trembling hand out into the darkness. Cold hard stone met her somewhere in the dark. She ran her fingers along it, running as best as she could. She was scared. She hated being scared. She decided that she needed a rule about being scared and doing things that made her scared.

She saw the ring of light up ahead. It had cast a dull beam in the shape of a circle on the floor. The morning sun was rising. She had slept later than she thought she would have. She should’ve been halfway home by the time the sun came up.

She felt like she was stepping into a magical light, like in the movies she had watched with her grandmother. The dark of the bunker was held at bay by the tiny ring of light. Dust particles sparkled inside of the ring. She reached her hands through it, watching as she made the dust dance in the light.

She looked up at the ring of light and then put her hand out at the small ladder she could see. She climbed until her head was at the wooden hatch. She listened to the silence. Nothing made a sound. She didn’t want to open the hatch. She wanted to hide in the dark of the bunker and never come out.

She heard a whisper in the wind. It was a sound she would know anywhere. It wasn’t close to her location, but it hurt her just the same. It could’ve been her.

She took a breath and put her hand on the bottom of the hatch. She tried to calm the shaking but she couldn’t. She pushed on the hatch and light flooded the small space even though the crack was tiny. The sun hadn’t completely risen, just as the moon hadn’t fully set. It was dawn.

She saw greenery everywhere around the hatch. Moss and brush surrounded her. She didn’t see anything but the sounds of the screams had filled the air. The animals made no noise, as the people had taken over the space with their screams again.

“Please! Please! Stop, please! I have money!” Her voice scared Y/n. The desperation frightened her. She had never been that desperate but she knew she had it in her. “Please sir, please! Don’t you have a sister or a wife you would want to keep safe?! Please! I’ll let you do whatever you want just don’t take me! Don’t take me back there! I’ll die in there!”

Y/n wanted to rock back and forth on the ground. She wished they would just kill her already so she would shut up. She was frozen. She didn’t leave the bunker but she didn’t close the lid either.

She knew she was in danger. She took a deep breath. She thought of Hades and Kirishima. She thought of poor Mina alone and taking care of Kirishima. She felt bravery, or stupidity, for the smallest of seconds and pulled herself out of the bunker and slid along the moss and brush. She made very little noise but every movement or rustle felt as loud as a gunshot. She crept along the ground on her hands and feet like Hades did. She moved away from the town. She didn’t know where she was but she was scared.

She got to a crowded bunch of trees and bushes and decided she needed to risk it and stand. She needed her bearings. She took another deep breath and slid her body up along the side of a tree. She tried to blend in. Hoards of people had gathered in the street in front of the town. Y/n could see the field and the cement road. She knew she was on the right side.

Women and children were being loaded into trucks. They sobbed and reached for their loved ones. One girl looked about thirteen. Y/n felt anger welling inside of her. There were four guards from the gates and five other men milling around the trucks. The tenth man was inside the cab of the truck.

Her brain was screaming at her to help the girl. She was a kid but that wouldn’t stop them. The sweaty men who took turns. She closed her eyes and shook her head to rearrange her thoughts.

She turned her back on them. She ran away like the coward she was. She ran until she found the broken branches. She used them to lead herself back to her weapon stash. She breathed easier when her bow was back in her hand and she could just kiss her knife. She tucked it into her boot and started the run back to her house. She ran faster than she did the day before. She ran with a new fear.

Xxxx

She reached the house in the middle of the night and saw Hades' eyes. He stalked toward her and sniffed her everywhere. He was checking to make sure she was okay. When she bent her knee to kiss him, she started to sob. He had seen that before. He knew sometimes she just needed to get it out.

“Y/n?” She looked up to see Mina pointing a gun at her. Y/n smiled and held up her sack and Mina lowered the gun. “You okay?”

“No, but it’s not anything new. How is he?” Y/n could see the grim look on Mina’s face in the moonlight and her stomach sank. She wanted to panic and cry out.

“He’s fading fast. I was about to cut his leg off when I heard you.”

Y/n sighed and broke into a run and bursted through the farm door, something she’d never done before. She pulled the needle out of the sack with one of the vials as she kneeled before Kirishima. His red hair was matted against his face and Y/n could see where his black roots were growing in from the lack of dye. She could see the moisture in the moonlight.

Mina poured the vodka she found in one of the cupboards all over Y/n’s hands and the needles and vial. The liquor was splashing all over her. She held the bottle up to Y/n’s lips and it burned its way down her empty stomach. The bits of food she had eaten were long gone. Thank god. Mina wiped his arm and Y/n finished putting the vial together and stabbed him in the arm. She pushed it in slowly like her dad had showed her. Kirishima didn’t stir. He didn’t register that Y/n was pumping his arm full of antibiotics.

She pulled the bandages off his wounds. The red lines were everywhere and she swallowed hard. Mina put the vodka back to Y/n’s lips and she drank again. She poured the tea tree all over the wound and blade of her knife. She sliced into the swollen part of the injury and milked the puss from it. She poured more tea tree after, being careful as to not rupture the blood vessels and cause more infection. When it was clean again and there was no more puss she smothered it in the old tube of medical salve. She covered it again with a gauze bandage and tape.

His fever was still high and he licked his lips and looked down at Y/n with blood shot eyes.

“You made it back.” Y/n nodded, his expression was breaking her heart. He looked so weak. He reached a hand to hers and squeezed. “I was worried.”

“I can take care of myself.” Y/n didn’t even let the bizarre day she had cross her mind. It was not the time to stress him out.

“I don’t doubt that, you scare me.”

Y/n laughed. She couldn’t help herself. He was huge and no doubt strong, stronger than he knew. Stronger than Y/n. She tried not to think about the young girls in the truck. She was a coward.

“I’m goin’ back to watching.” Mina was gone and suddenly Kirishima and Y/n were alone. She felt funny about it.

Kirishima pulled her up onto the couch, “Come lay with me.” It was the first human contact Y/n had had in a while. Watching t.v with friends was the closest thing to cuddling she had ever experienced. She didn’t know what to do and went limp. Kirishima laughed and pulled her alongside him on the couch. His arm was burning hot, it felt amazing. He wrapped his arm around her and she shivered from the heat.”

“Tell me a story Y/n.”

Y/n paused, she didn’t have any. She wanted to tell him something fun about her childhood but it basically looked just like her life now, but with more showering.

“I went to the town once a long time ago. The infection was newer then. I ran through the woods and broke the branches to make a path for myself to find the farmhouse again. Just like my dad taught me. I was excited when I saw the gates. I was so stupid. I thought being with other survivors would be better for me. I went in and begged for food from a lady. She laughed at me.” Y/n felt her air getting trapped in her throat. The shame filling her was her punishment. She deserved it. “I went out her door and sat in the narrow alley near the back of the house. I was hidden by a bunch of old buckets and garbage. The lady and her daughter were walking around the back with bags of stuff. Some men came. They started tearing at them. They stripped them and hurt them.” Y/n choked slightly on her next sentence, “I ran into the store and stole as much food as I could carry. I ran and gorged myself in the back of her store. I could still hear her screaming and I did nothing. I just ate.”

Kirishima squeezed her and kissed the top of her forehead. She stared into his black t-shirt that was soaked with sweat.

“You’re kinda bad at storytelling. I sorta wanted to go to sleep. Now I think I’ll never sleep again.” Y/n laughed with him. It killed the moment of suffering she deserved. He kissed her forehead again, “Do you have anything lighter? I don’t want that to be the last thing I think about when I die.” Y/n laughed again, but this time she wanted to cry. He was dying and Y/n knew this. Instead of her leaving him, he was leaving her and it hurt.

“I have one memory of my mother. She was in the hospital bed. I was two years old. She looked like me, but she was really pretty. Her lip looked like she was pushing them out.”

“Duck lips.”

“What?”

He laughed, “They were called duck lips back then.”

“Oh. Well she had those. She was in the bed and she let me climb up with her. I sat on her lap and we watched t.v. It was a cartoon about a bald kid and his family.”

“Caillou. I loved that show. LOVE IT.” He spoke in a high pitched voice. It made Y/n smile, he remembered things so clearly. He nudged her, “What happened then?”

Y/n shook her head, “Nothing. We just sat in the sun on her bed. I remember how soft her nightgown was and she let me eat her pudding.”

“Yeah okay that’s another bad example of storytelling.” Y/n wanted to defend herself, but she knew it would only make him feel sorry for her.

He smiled, “Once when I was six, me and Bakugo went and played down by the river behind my house. His mom was really strict about it and never let us go down there. We figured because Bakugo was old enough to babysit we were good. We brought boats we made out of paper and put them on the water.. They floated perfectly until mine flipped over. I reached for it before it got too far away and of course fell in. Bakugo grabbed me before I got pulled away. I would have drowned for sure. We ran back to my house but we were too long getting back and his mom was there already. We snuck in the backyard. I thought we were dead but Bakugo grabbed the hose from the side of the house and sprayed me. His mom came out the back door at that moment. So she walks to the backyard to see Bakugo hosing and me screaming. He got grounded for a week for being a bully. He was the best friend ever.”

A weird feeling overtook the other feelings Y/n had. She was jealous that she didn’t have a single story like that one. She looked into his eyes and felt lost. She felt like she was part of them.

“Now that’s a story, jackass.” Y/n frowned at him. He lifted her chin and pressed his warm lips to hers. She loved it. She loved him. His warmth rushed through her. His lips parted hers and his tongue caressed her lips softly. He pulled back but she wanted more and watched his laps as he pulled away. “You’re supposed to close your eyes Y/n.”

She blushed, “I liked that.”

He laughed softly, “It was on my list of things to do before I die.” His words stung.

“You haven’t kissed a girl before?”

He shook his head, “Not a girl I really like.”

“Your fever is making you crazy.”

“Good.” He pulled her close and kissed her until she was dizzy.

--

haha cliffhanger go brrrr

[harritudur]

because every ship needs its ‘we accidentaly got married in Vegas’ AU, so here the noabeth version (AO3 link) 1860 words + pg-13 + no beta, we die like men!

Elisabeth wakes up to a headache, her head pounding too heavily to her liking. As she becomes more and more conscious, her eyes slowly crack open. This is… not her room. Then she notices a cheap plastic ring on her left hand (the kind of ridiculous rings you get for 2$ from capsule-toys distributors) and a warm lump curled against her side.

Well fuck.

The memories of the last 24 hours come flooding back:

—the fly to Las Vegas —the international congress about renewable energy sources —the four boring hours of conference she attended to (without sign language interpreter, thank you) —the open-bar on the second floor —the tall blonde man she already run into two weeks ago in Berlin, and couldn’t stop thinking about since then —his fingers as he tried to remember the few words in sign langage his mother taugh him years ago —his face as he explained his presence to attend the conference of Dr… something? about… doctrines? or was it churches? —his eyes dancing on her bare knee when she crossed her legs —his name she couldn’t stop mouthing between glasses of vodka —N-O-A-H —his hand, warm on her low back when they left the bar —his lips pressed to hers in the elevator —Noah —his arms around her waist as they walked out the hotel —alcohol —music —his mouth —the irresistible perfum she breathed in when her nose brushed the soft skin beside his ear —alcohol —the flashing lights —his mouth —more alcohol —a song —his fucking delicious mouth —giggles —a chapel —a kiss —a hotel room…

She stops and checks under the sheet.

THANKS GOD! Her shirt and skirt are still on.

With great care, Elisabeth stretches to observe her partner in crime. Even turned towards the wall as he is, she can tell he is still sleeping by the quiet rise and fall of his bare shoulders. She decides to take a more attentive look at him and the first thing she notices is a plastic ring of the same quality than hers on his left hand. Oh God. Then, the edge of a tattoo catchs her eyes, linen covering most of his back.

Leaves? Maybe flowers?

Her curiosity getting the better of her, Elisabeth pushes the sheet away to reveal the entire tattoo. A tree, with a classic design. Its branches large and full of leaves and fruits (apples), and its roots deep in the soil, each ramification, each bisection leading to a name. Religious names, but from different faiths.

Beautiful.

It’s only when he shudders lightly that she realizes her fingertips were tracing over the ink on his back. By the vibration she feels under them, he is murmuring something and her hand moves away.

After a few yawns, Noah turns over, and a soft smile begins to work its way across his face when his eyes land on Elisabeth.

“That dream again…” he whispers, so faintly she can’t read his lips. But his brief delight disappears when a violent migraine encircles his skull. He blinks, and remembers a few drinks, a few laughs, a few kisses, and… what else? He can’t tell. His incompetent brain makes him groan and Noah covers up his face with his left hand. As he does, something not supposed to be there touches his cheek, and he blinks again before muttering. “What the-”

A silly plastic band around his ring finger. “-fuck??!!”

The memory of his own voice singing loud and off-key Bruno Mars’ Marry You starts to haunt Noah’s ears, and the face of an Elvis Presley in a white rhinestone jumpsuit with a priest’s collar pops right into his mind.

“… oh. Oh.”

Everything is spinning a little around him, but pieces by pieces, the puzzle of the last night starts to reconstitute itself.

“Hm wellllllll… so apprently, we drank a lot,” Noah says as he sits up, cross-legged, and is now facing his wife. “And… we got married.”

The calm in his tone can not be heard, but Elisabeth sees it on his lips, his face, his attitude, his body… This whole situation seems absolutely normal and not upsetting for him, and she just wants to scream.

With great suppleness (which Noah remarks by an eyebrow-raising), Elisabeth reaches for her purse on the ground by the bed, and takes out her loyal notepad and blue pencil to write.

you’re not freaking out?

“Not really, no” he replies, shrugging. “And… It was your idea after all.”

She has to make him repeat the last part, because there is no way that she is at the initiative of this non-sense. Noah repeats the same words, with that astounding calm, and Elisabeth rolls her eyes in a cocky way. She writes down on a new page, in capital:

IMPOSSIBLE

“Yes. Your idea.”

Her head shakes. No. She is a rational woman. A reasonable woman. Sure, this Noah is sexy and hot and funny and smart and courteous and totally her kind of guy and she is definitely attracted to him… but no. No way! She is not the instigator. Or, is she?

Noah smiles at her gently and her chest suddenly tightens. Fuck.

After a tilt of his head to ask for permission, he takes the notepad from her hands and flippes through the previous pages. In doing so, Noah can go back in time, can witness and find passed conversations, and he eventually stops at one page. He smiles again and shows it to Elisabeth.

There, in blue, little hearts all around, a shaky handwriting that she identifies as hers:

<3< 3 marrY ME pleas e <3</i>

“If I remember correctly, you wanted us to get married, and I said no at first -because I thought it had to be a joke. But you almost started to cry. So…” he explains at an Elisabeth deathly pale. “I said yes. And we went to a chapel with an Elvis-priest.”

There is a furrow between Elisabeth’s eyebrows and she just wants the earth to open up and to swallow her. It takes her a long minute to processes the information he just gave and, like a sliver of light through the darkness, she… remembers.

                        [ she nuzzled into his neck, his arms secure around her waist, and breathed him in. He laughed and Elisabeth felt a warmth rush over her. Alcohol or Noah? She moved away to enjoy the enticing sight and kissed him again. And again. And again. Her hands started to dance in the air, before she could even think about it, and signed: marry me. ]

All the details of the night or their chronology are still nebulous. But she clearly remembers *that* moment, and the way she felt. The feelings. The want. The need to have this man. To claim him as hers. Where did such impetuous desires come from?

She looks up and Noah’s eyes are still on her face, but the calm in them shifts into something different. Trouble? Worry? No. Care, Elisabeth recognizes.

He gets off the bed to look for his shirt and she can’t help but huffes her disappointment when he finds it. Now decent (except for his bed-hair), he stands in the middle of the room, hands on his hips in a superhero pose, the one you use when you need confidence and nerve. His face softens into a tender look that makes Elisabeth’s breath hitch in her throat. Again.

“So, now that we’re all better, and sober,“ he says, walking back towards the bed and stops at its edge, “I guess I’ll go get us a divorce.”

A gasp leaves her lips and she sits up straight on the mattress. Divorce. How Elisabeth hates the word. Her parents divorced when she was still in her early teens and, witnessed the torment and tears, and she became determined, more than anything, not to be like them. To marry just once, for good! And with the man of her life.

She shakes her head. One of Noah’s eyebrows arches.

“No?”

She shakes her head once more and this time, mouthes her answer. No.

Noah gulps. It is not the reaction he expected, but it is not an unpleasant one neither. He glances at the end table next to the bed, observing a piece of paper on top. Their marriage licence.

                         [ they tumbled onto the bed, a mess of tipsy giggles and limbs. Noah pulled away to place kisses all over the side of Elisabeth’s jaw and neck, but she grabbed his face to press his mouth against hers. When Noah came up for air, a giant grin spread across his flushed face. She looked up at him with a tired but tender smile, and her fingers found the buttons on his shirt, too clumsy to work properly. “Let me…” he whispered against her lips, hovering just above them and Elisabeth took her chance to kiss him quickly before falling back on the mattress with a sigh. With difficulty, he eventually took off his shirt and tossed it on the ground. When he looked down, Elisabeth was snoring, dead to the world, and he laughed. Tiredness was taking over him as well, and Noah curled-up in the bed next to her. He pushed gently a stand of golden hair off her face before falling into sleep without a second thought ]

He nods.

“Okay?”

i don’t want to divorce. we could try. and i think i like you.

Her eyes glare at him with demand and Noah tries to find arguments against it. In vain. And he figures out how they ended up in this situation: he is unable to say ‘no’ to her (adorable) stubbornness. But is her ‘i like you’ enough to build a marriage on?

“Okay, okay… we can try and work it out,” Noah states as he sits by her side on the bed so she can read his lips more easily. “And… if we look at the situation in a practical way, there are benefits. Tax benefits. Insurance benefits. I read as well that marriage help you live longer!”

She laughs and he notices the dimples from her smile. Once more, her pen moves quickly over the paper.

marital confidences privilege too

This time, he is the one to smile, and his knee touches hers through the sheet.

“True! I mean… if I decide one day to kill people, I could tell you every details, and yet, you couldn’t testify against me.”

She tiltes her head, an almost curious expression appearing on her face as she looked at him. Then a grin, and more writing.

i was more talking about civil procedure for neighbourhood disputes but im in to cover up your murders

He laughs and Elisabeth wishes she can hear the sound of it. She easily understands how drunk-her could have wanted this man to be hers. Noah moves closer, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to kiss her, but he doesn’t. And a part of Elisabeth wants him to.

Maybe when the time will be right -and after they both have brushed their teeth.

“I will order a very light brunch for two then.”

Noah eventually leans over to kiss her cheek and Elisabeth doesn’t withdraw. She could get used to that.

[p1nkwitch]

For the writing asks: 3, 5, 6, and 14?

3- What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Oh this- listen i have an entire universe for this whole thing with several branching timelines.

Its originally planned with an oc that i have that i ship with Elias and Peter. But im not going to put her here, cause that implies writing the entire thing with her in it and-

Well its a lot. Like its seriously a lot.

So to simplify the whole thing I'm going to omit her.

Anyways this universe in particular-

I love this verse.

Jon is having an existential crisis.

Which for him its not new, but this is taking the cake perhaps for all the wrong reasons he can think of.

His day started normal, then it got bad when Martin was gone with Peter Lukas. He had been about to confront them, talking with Elias first-

But the next thing he knew is that they were no longer there.

Elias, Peter, Martin and himself were all sprawled out in some backyard.

The noise seemed to attract attention from someone inside the house, he was about to try and defend himself saying he didn't mean to break in-

When the person that opens the door is no one else than Elias himself. A few more grey hairs along, but still absolutely him. He checks with the one next to him to confirm that yes it is a double. And not the stranger. He doesn't have-

He-

Jon would admit that he panicked, because where beholding should be, there was nothing.

Twenty minutes later has the five of them in the living room. His-

God he doesn't want to call him his Elias. So he would go for Elias and the other is just other Elias.

Is giving the older looking one an impressive glare.

“So…. When are you from exactly?” This was building up to be a nightmare.

Elias and Martin start to ask questions and the man winces before shushing them.

“Not so loud, you will wake him” That makes everyone look confusedly at him.

“Wake who?”

“My-” Steps can be heard from the stairs.

“Dad?”

Jon is really losing it.

A boy, couldn't be more than… 5? Is looking at them holding a seal plushie. There is something very familiar about him.

Black hair, pale skin, light blue eyes and freckles-

Jon slowly turns around to look at Peter and has another startling revelation.

“Its ok Simon, i have visitors and they got rowdy” The boy looks at them and seems to become smaller and smaller, he darts to the older Elias and starts to make hand signs, that he seems to get.

“I- ok, ok, yes, no. He will be back in a little bit with your sisters-”

Sisters??!!

Elias, the one he came with is looking more and more perturbed and lost. So its not only him.

“Ok, let me take you up, if you gentleman can wait without destroying the place…” He raises an eyebrow like a disappointed parent and despite being 30 years old and knowing he is a piece of shit, Jon can't help but slide back on his seat and nod.

His life is a bloody nightmare.

Other Elias picks up his-

His son

And goes up while talking to him. The child clings to his neck and hides his face there.

Other scene.

“What do you mean the powers are gone???”

“Mm, i mean that they are gone, i tried my ritual and my version of Jon just- did something and especially it cut off every last single avatar from the entities. The leading theory is that new avatars can be made, but those from before? We just cant use them anymore. Its the main reason why Peter’s family is convinced that Simon can help them bring back the lonely. The amount of times we had to keep them from kidnapping him its impressive”

“My- excuse me what???” Peter looks scandalized, his family would not-

“Peter… Do you think they would just take your kid if they thought that it would help them along with forsaken?” The other Elias gives him a tired and somewhat rueful look.

It sets something off in him so he looks to his Elias. He nods lightly and it makes him-

Angry? Being here is throwing him off.

The lonely… he can’t feel it, it's not muffling his feelings and its making him feels off.

5- What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

I would say... Peter? I was rather lonely as a child and preteen until i met my best friend. Too weird and my siblings and i got along, but we have a 10 year age gap difference so they had their own stuff to do. That made me be on my own a lot and explore around the house. His statement just hits right with me and i love to write him because of it.

I am also very anxious with people. If i know you i will have no issue, but alone and with strangers? I would rather disappear in a cloud of smoke. Peter is cheerful despite the lonely or maybe because of it. So i get being lonely too and identify with him.

Also when i do write him? Tim. Happy and cares a lot about a small group of people that he is close with? Loves his friend but can be mean?

I adore him.

Elias or Jon because i crave knowing stuff and deal with impostor syndrome about my achievements a lot so yeah!

Still its mainly the lonely sailor.

6- What character do you have the most fun writing?

Elias, but because i get to explore a lot of things and play around with him. He is fun to put in situations that are out of his control, or perhaps make him deal with feelings that he has repressed a long time.

He is my stress ball for writing.

Also i love his reactions to some of the things i put him though, making horny Elias always cracks me up.

Peter has a similar effect when I want to deal with some family dynamics and what it means to be lonely as i said before.

Mm also i want to write some Gerry but i need to wait a little bit longer for that ;)

14-At what point in writing do you come up with a title?

Except for like 4 fics?

Its the last thing i put, i literally have to come up with one just as im about to post the story on ao3. And its usually whatever I can scrounge up from the story or a lyric line that i like and feel that fits.

I suck at naming stuff and giving summaries.

Everything i do name, is a reference to something else usually so titles are the pain of my existence.

[delbeugre]

Have you seen SADIE BEUGRE? DEL is in HER/THEIR SENIOR year. The MATHEMATICS MAJOR is 24 years old & is a CAPRICORN. People say SHE/THEY are GRITTY, BEWITCHING, RETICENT and WASPISH. Rumors say they’re a member of HASTINGS. I heard from the gossip blog that SHE BIT AN EX-BOYFRIEND’S PINKY FINGER OFF AFTER SHE FOUND OUT HE CHEATED, AND THEN HAPPILY SERVED TIME FOR IT.

im tommy im a freak and of course i am here to get freakalicious with u all... this is my newest frankenstein type creation named sadie i know .02% about her yet but i am more than confident she will b nothing but a fun time! like this if ur down to plot!

TW: VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF JAIL/PROSECUTION, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, DRUG USE

BACKSTORY

capricorn sun / virgo moon / scorpio rising

raised by her uncle Big (his name) who is a hermit shut in town local in the depths of the florida marshland like some goosebumps protagonist. hes gone far past socially acceptable in terms of his ability to connect with the modern person but is wise beyond belief... his whole vibe is a warped cross between a cryptid and a mountain man that forages and cooks neighborhood plants. married for 27 years before his wife passed from illness. its quite possibly the only thing hes ever been emotional about

but dels entry to his life throws a wrench in his sadness (despite abandonment being what they bond over). she takes the focus away from his loss with her presence; her dad, his brother, died in a tragic train-car collision around the same time (which is speculated to be a suicide bt nobody can ever really be sure). he was a single parent so her custody is thrown up in the air for a few months as cps decides what they r gna do with this freshly orphaned little scrapper

she just kinda turns up on his doorstep n from there they cohabit a space. shes arnd 6-7 at this time... big never seemed to b phased by the fact tht she was a child n tended to treat her more like an apprentice or guest. he was never close to her father because of their age difference, being the older out of the two, so to have his daughter become his responsibility is just..... weird

this doesnt mean that he wouldnt provide for her bt it was. not very parental whatsoever.... no conversation or interaction beyond what was necessary. she was a mute fr a while and still is? to a degree.... very short spoken

when she got to her preteens he offered her an allowance in exchange for little odds and ends of stuff to be taken care of around the house. errands n all tht.... sometimes he wld purposefully leave things for her to pick up n take care of without mentioning it for a bonus. taught her the importance of saving your money and the horrid corruptness of a society basing everythings worth off paper. big exposed her to a lot of knowledge and took advantage of her silent curiosity by fueling it with books, homeschooling, life skills (catching a fish, setting a trap, knowing your berries in the woods...... the works)

her teens carried out the same way bt with the introduction of a real job, a spot down at the local butcher shop checking people out at the register and helping around the back of house. del knows a great deal abt cow/pig/chicken/etc anatomy from her years here..... she committed to being 100% vegan into her early twenties because of her trauma frm this occupation

it paid very well tho n was the best gig she was going to get within a reasonable biking route from home. so she settled!

the plan wasnt to keep it up for long anyway. she worked rly hard for her spot at yates and didnt intend to ever screw herself over. her plan was to get her bachelors, masters, become a professor, pursue a personal hobby of agriculture and build an elaborate greenhouse to live in

bt things happen..... 

some 35yr old douche with a green thumb woos her at a gardening store n swoops in to teach her a little more abt romance; all of this, of course, under the guise that he had all these tips and tricks for living environmentally friendly. a lame hippie wannabe that shouldve never even approached her bt alas.... he did

love is a touchy subject n it hadnt been something she set her sights on, but she was interested in wht this dude could teach her n at 19 she ended up falling in love. she delayed her education to stay an extra year back home and work out another plan which included him

this was very disappointing to her uncle bt he didnt have anything to say abt it. it was never parental before n it was never going to be, so this was another lesson she wld just have to overcome on her own

it turns out that she doesnt care for infidelity. when the confession comes out its met with a lot of screaming, bawling, blistering white hot anger. the whole incident is blacked out of her mind to b honest....

matters of the heart are no longer something to concern herself with because of the repercussions of her rash behavior regarding heartbreak O________O she spent a year in jail n still has to attend therapy / anger management meetings

deep down she is still hurting. there was a lot of pain... bt the sadness is not over the loss of some noob. she is in a state of constant disappointment, detaching from herself out of shame. putting her own life on pause only for it to turn out like that? stupid stupid stupid... 

PERSONALITY

chugging along! tldr spectre-like swamp nymph aura with the slightest (not so slight) unhinged feral tendencies

delicate like a moth resting in the gleam of a flashlight.... her anger singes her wings when shes too comfortable staying in one place, so theres always constant stimulation, always shifting gears. shes prone to feeling threatened; that being said, sadie is wary of walking in crowds, a little bit skittish when approached without making eye contact beforehand. like a small grey kitten..... in a big wide world

has a hard time keeping a conversation bt is very interested in debate, and even more so in studying alongside someone in complete silence. it reminds her of home in the same sense tht her uncle wld nudge her to keep reading by always having his own book open

doesnt have many friends and is alright with that. rumors are tht she is still a virgin bt who really knows? not i...... bt i wldnt be surprised if this was true. shes not impressed by people nor material items so this whole yates crowd is a turn off

she is truly clueless when it comes to how to behave around anyone her age. i think she understands but it just doesnt compute. she could come off as impolite bt it is just standoffishness? some people cld try to crack her but i dont think even she knows what that would be, or what that would look like. even in her one (1) failed relationship it was never deep heart to hearts or sharing dinner..... solitude is her realm

del is very comfortable with herself, very open with her wardrobe! doesnt leave too much to the imagination? she appreciates the human experience n expresses that thru this whole “body is a temple” type thing.... not quite confidence, but proudness of being. has gotten multiple notices frm professors for her tops being too sheer, nylons too ratted up, etc. has dirt under her fingernails half the time, chipped polish, some chapstick. smudges her eyeshadow on with her fingers

doesnt smoke cigarettes all too often but is dependent on weed. it kinda perpetuates her paranoid demeanor bt at the same time it keeps her lax enough to be able to mentally handle city life

her room is a playground for huge monstera plants, christmas cacti, ivy creeping along the doorway. she sleeps on a tiny thin mattress on the floor with a linen sheet and has her books stacked up on the ground next to it to hold her ashtray. the whole thing is dumb empty

takes her studies seriously and pinches every penny she can..... she has never ordered herself a coffee frm somewhere before, ordered food frm a restaurant... nothing. i wld think the most she would branch out from harvesting everything on her own is buying a bag of sunflower seeds frm a gas station, but even then, she much prefers eating stuff she grows herself. has a tomato plant, some basil beginning to sprout, etc.... manageable crops for any college students tiny space

...

bt yea thats it thats all! connections cld be all over the place. im legit open to anything. theres only a few tht come to mind right off that bat: 

a few people that get along with her? same classes? they shared a bowl n now theyre getting into the nitty gritty of some personal conversation that is veering into no mans land....

some sort of clueless makeover moment? arent rly into sadie as a person bt see a lot of potential... perhaps need a plus one to a party on the fly and figure thats the best option theyve got

crushes? this wld be fun n potentially dangerous! like playing with a hot cast iron pan or something :)

again im vry new to rp so i wld like to leave a lot of stuff up to chemistry, brainstorming n stuff like that, but please consider everything on the table! what i hav mentioned is the tip of the iceberg im so burnt out n i wrote a lot more than i intended to i am so sorry but i promise i am friendly

[enchanted-prose]

#16 Blackberry Night i

in which the lady renlyn gets a vibe check

Word count: 4,502

Characters: the whole squad (including fink and kerwyn) so im not gonna list all of them because we’d be here for a while

Notes: every girl deserves a cinderella moment

Enjoy!

His room was too sparsely decorated to be distracting. Jaron tugged on Imogen’s long braid, earning a light hearted smack.

He’d called for a meeting with his inner circle half an hour before, but hadn’t expected anyone to arrive early, not while the morning sun was still shoving its way across the horizon.

However, Tobias was standing before him. Quaking before him.

“I’m in a much better mood,” Jaron tugged on Imogen’s braid again, and managed to catch her hand. “Ha! Caught you!”

Imogen made a face, “Would you like a blue ribbon for that, love?”

“I would, actually. Give it to me now.”

Tobias coughed, “I, ah, I decided to let you rest before I told you what I found out.”

Saints, what had he asked during his feverish ramblings this time?

The events from the previous evening bled into a continuous stream. Checking on Feall, the blow to his leg, and then falling asleep in the physician’s chambers. Jaron tapped his knee. He and Imogen were discussing Mireldis Thay that morning. They’d figured out a link to her: Jolly.

“Is it- is she dead? Did Jolly have the information we wanted?” Jaron trailed his thumb over each of Imogen’s knuckles.

He could hear his own words echoing back at him, the unintelligible claims of fever and exhaustion. Jaron brushed a strand of hair away from Imogen's face, repeating the motion despite having tucked all of her stray hairs back into place. He'd had a suspicion about who Mireldis Thay was.

No, no.

He had several suspicions, ranging from Ayvar all the way down to Dawn of the Dragon's Keep.

Although the latter was seeming more and more unlikely with each passing day.

Tobias looked to Imogen, "I told Amarinda a few minutes ago, I didn't want either of you to be alarmed."

"Are you Mireldis Thay?" Jaron pressed a hand to his heart.

It was thumping too hard in his chest. Trying to escape.

Trying to find a safe place to rest. To let stone walls down and grow branches. Tree branches, specifically. Ones strong enough to climb and hide in.

Patience was a virtue Jaron never cared to master. His rabbit heart only proved that.

"Saints curse it all, stop hesitating and just tell me what you were able to find out," Jaron burst.

Imogen flinched.

"I, ah, well," Tobias scratched the back of his head, apparently finding his toes much more interesting than Jaron's frown. "I should warn you that Jolly's not afraid, or at least that's what he told me."

"This isn't about Jolly, it's about Mireldis Thay."

"But it is about Jolly, Jaron. And Feall. Everyone here has become a pawn and none of us caught it."

The rabbit thumping in Jaron's ribs wasn't easing. He tried to calm himself by pressing Imogen's fingers to his chin.

Pieces of a game.

Pawns.

Jaron had been a pawn before, and he had no intention of going back.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He muttered.

"You were unconscious, Jaron, you wouldn't have been able to understand," Imogen's quiet reminder almost made his frustration melt.

"I haven't spoken with Feall," Tobias finally looked up. "He's still resting and it's cruel to try to force words from an injured man. We were fools to put pressure on Amarinda and not him. Ami's lived in Carthya for more than a decade, Feall hasn't."

There was a simple reason behind respecting Feall's privacy, and Jaron hated it. He hated that he'd been too trusting.

And yet, Feall had given them so many reasons to trust him.

"You still haven't told me what you found, Tobias."

Silence chills, even in the middle of summer. Jaron's room was far too cold, far too quiet.

"Jolly never gave Lady Thay's name outright," Tobias rolled his shoulders back, as if bracing himself for some sudden death at sharing his secret. "Instead, he informed me that Mireldis Thay has indeed been in Carthya this entire time, talking with us and earning our trust. She's been here the entire time, ever since Feall and King Oberson came to pay homage to you. And there's only one person I can think of that's been here, becoming friends with us."

The words were too frightening to say.

“Renlyn Karise,” Jaron frowned. “You mean to tell me Renlyn Karise is Mireldis Thay?”

Tobias nodded.

However, Imogen shook her head in disagreement. “That’s impossible, you know how much she and Feall get along with each other. Feall’s told us multiple times that the Faola attacking him had to be Mireldis Thay.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” said Jaron.

“How did Amarinda take it?” Imogen asked.

“Ah, she- she didn’t accept the news. She still hasn’t accepted the news. We agreed to think on the matter and discuss it once we’ve both sat with the information.”

Amarinda didn’t take the news well?

Could she  be blamed?

Renlyn Karise had a murderous stare and an ambiguous streak, but Jaron couldn’t picture her being bold enough to kick him and crawl back to the castle.

Though maybe he was wrong. He’d gambled on another person’s behavior before.

Playing the long game was something Jaron knew well. It took skill and foresight, both traits were something Renlyn needed to maintain a series of business ventures.

She’d tricked him into buying things, and now he’d trick her into revealing herself.

“I’ll handle it,” Jaron sat straight up, jostling Imogen in the process.

“Jaron, we’re here to help y-“ she began.

“Please tell me you didn’t invite her to the meeting,” said Tobias, pressing his hands to his forehead. “By the Saints, you invited her to the meeting.”

Yes, actually, Jaron did invite Renlyn.

But for a different reason than Tobias and Imogen expected.

Roden was among the first people to visit Jaron that morning, bringing news of the Faola’s escape with him. News of Regar helping with the escape. Jaron hid his disappointment with a cheeky grin and quick forgiveness.

In the end, Regar’s imprisonment would only help Jaron. He’d read a series of letters since Row and Regar came to Drylliad.

One could only see the same name so many times before noticing patterns.

If Jaron’s guess was correct, he’d give himself a medal.

“She holds valuable opinions once you get past her general unapproachability,” Jaron grinned.

“I don’t think we should be taking this so lightly,” said Tobias. He looked like a preening crow each time he patted down his deep green vest. “Your bruise runs too deep for jokes.”

“See, there’s a detail you forgot. Did you catch it, Imogen?”

The slight shake from Imogen’s head gave Jaron his answer.

He’d mulled over the prospect of catching Mireldis Thay for several days before cracking down and searching through books. When that didn’t help, Jaron turned to Kerwyn, who’d been present during King Eckbert’s search for a suitable bride. The search led Eckbert to Amarinda, in turn leading to a rush of Bymarian information.

Kerwyn knew little more than Jaron, but that was better than nothing. Kerwyn knew the names of all seventeen Bymarian noble lords, their five kingdom states, and their five lesser kings. Graer Thay was a staunch military leader, who’d left the keys to his kingdom state to his second wife.

Graer Thay vanished just before the Avenian war.

Queen Danika’s investigators should’ve been looking for two Thays, not one.

Tobias was rubbing his wrists, and glanced over his shoulder. Once he’d finished with his wrists, he tugged at his shirt’s collar. His odd ritual continued as he patted the hem of his vest.

“Jolly never gave you the actual name, Tobias, you made an assumption,” Jaron explained. “A very compelling assumption, yes, but believability doesn’t make something true.”

Tobias scowled, “You’re the one who asked me to be a spy! Let me stitch a person back together while you manage to topple entire regimes because you’re slippery enough.”

“We haven’t toppled a king recently,” Imogen tapped her chin. “We should add that to our future plans.”

“You’re right! We’ve focused too long on our own problems, it’s high time that we cause

problems for somebody else,” said Jaron. “Let’s practice on Tobias.”

“Jaron! I’m your friend, your doctor, your regent, and a member of your inner circle! That’s not a good idea!”

People often forgot how easy it was for Jaron to remember details.

Details like Roden rubbing his neck and Mott grabbing his side when a door shut loud enough.

Tobias’s little detail was much quieter than reaching for an invisible pain. He patted his clothes, his hair, his wrists.

Almost like he was checking to make sure that he was still alive.

The antidote for these bursts of eerie movement varied from person to person. With Imogen, Jaron reached for her hands. With Mott, it was holding a conversation.

With Tobias, it was merciless teasing to the point of a frustrated outburst.

“Let’s replace every single one of his left socks with socks that are two sizes too big,” Jaron gestured to Tobias’s boots. “Not too damaging, but enough to cause discomfort.”

“Don’t be cruel, he did do you a favor last night,” Imogen said.

Tobias opened his mouth to speak, but Jaron cut him off. “That’s why the socks will only be two sizes bigger instead of being made from woven metal.”

“Metal cloth is saved for gowns, not socks,” Tobias crossed his arms.

“They’ll make an exception for me.”

The door creaked open. Roden held a hand to his eyes, “Stop yelling, I haven’t eaten breakfast.”

“Didn’t I just see you?” Jaron frowned.

“I had an errand to run.”

“That’s what Fink’s for.”

“It wasn’t a Fink type of errand.”

Mott and Amarinda entered next, going their separate ways when Amarinda stood beside Tobias.

Amarinda’s frown, though small, couldn’t be missed.

Roden and Mott began dragging chairs to Jaron’s bedside as more people came. Imogen would sit on Jaron’s left, while Harlowe sat on his right.

Jaron took great care to instruct everyone to leave the seat nearest to the corner open for Renlyn.

It provided both privacy and openness.

The corner would feel like a hiding place despite having no cover.

Renlyn slipped into the room just before Harlowe with Fink serving as her escort. When Fink received his nod of approval from Mott, he crossed his legs and sat at the end of Jaron’s bed.

A good move; chairs weren’t always ideal.

There was never any rest for the weary. Despite the ache in his leg and Tobias’s insistence that he rested, Jaron had his trusted circle gathered around his bed. He’d made his decision regarding several situations.

Jaron held out a hand to Imogen. Her touch was almost enough to take the pain away.

“Let’s get this all out of the way,” he stretched his arms above his head. “I have every intention of yelling at Renlyn for putting up decorations while I was trying to recover.”

Renlyn only smirked.

Much had happened during the night, or at least that’s what Imogen told him as she helped him hobble back to his bed. Regar was in prison, the Faola who attacked Jaron escaped, and Lord Row was still waiting to know if Carthya would help Avenia.

“Shall we start with the happier business or get right to depressing ourselves?” Jaron leaned back against his pillows, eying the people around his bed.

Imogen, Amarinda, Mott, Tobias, Roden, Renlyn, Harlowe, Fink, and Kerwyn.

His greatest supporters.

Harlowe patted the papers in front of him, “I suppose the happier business, it’ll soften the difficulties to come.”

“I’ve done this in an unorthodox way,” Jaron said. “We can’t hesitate to help Avenia, not if we want to promote good relations. Lord Row requests a Carthyan presence in Isel, and it is what he’ll get. Harlowe, we will station soldiers in Libeth, and place Sir Alistair Derforgall in Isel.”

“Alistair’s a good choice,” Roden nodded.

“I know, it’s why he’s going to Isel. He has enough experience to be useful and enough smarts not to do something stupid.”

Amarinda’s back was as straight as a rod, “Lord Row will be pleased.”

He’d better be happy. Jaron didn’t want to throw out military assistance to every lord who threw himself at the king’s throne.

Renlyn raised her hand, and spoke when Jaron nodded to her. “I have several holdings in Isel that require protecting, I’ll likely hire an army should revolution break out, they’ll be there to assist Alistair.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise,” said Jaron.

“I’ll try to meet your expectations then.”

Was that really the face of a cold blooded killer?

Probably.

Jaron ran his thumb over Imogen’s fingers as Harlowe scribbled down Jaron’s decision on a piece of parchment.

“Speaking of foreign powers, what are we to do with King Oberson?” Kerwyn stroked his massive beard.

He looked like a philosopher of old.

“We can’t turn him away, it’s rude and I have no intention of making any new enemies,” Jaron gestured to his leg. “I already have one too sneaky to be caught.”

“It’s time you started taking soldiers with you when you leave the castle,” Mott said.

“For the first time, I think you might be right.”

Tobias’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, “Is it raining ducks outside? Are pigs flying? I never thought I’d see the day that Jaron agrees with Mott regarding his own safety.”

“And onto the next subject,” Jaron pointed a finger at Tobias; he’d get him back for that comment later. “Commander Regar is currently waiting on us to hear about his fate. Roden, would you mind explaining the situation from last night to us?”

Roden’s expression hardened. “Last night after the attack on Jaron, I tracked Regar to the Vaults. He’d already captured the Faola responsible for the attack, and chose to behave according to the old laws rather than turn the Faola over to the crown’s custody.”

“Odd,” Mott scowled. “And alarming.”

“Regar managed to help us get the Faola out of the Vaults,” Roden continued. “However, he claims to have slipped and he caught my shoulder for balance, allowing the Faola to escape. I doubt the Faola stuck around.”

“I think the Faola did stick around,” countered Tobias. “I think he’s still in the castle.”

“But why?” Fink scratched his nose. “You’d be an idiot to stick around a place where everyone wants you dead.”

Jaron cracked a sly grin, a faint memory of teasing Fink back at the pirates’ camp snatching his attention.

“The Faola likely has another goal they value more than their own life,” Renlyn clasped her hands in her lap. “Foolish from our perspective, yes, but to the Faola it must be important.”

“We’ll discuss the matter of the Faola later,” Jaron said. “Regar’s situation requires our attention for a moment.”

“Will you give him the punishment for treason?” Kerwyn leaned back in his chair.

“That’s not something to be taken lightly, and I won’t have somebody executed for treason based off of a stumble.”

“His stumble could cost you your life, my king.”

Jaron waved his hand, “Did you know you can rearrange the letters of certain words to form other words?”

“Jaron, please.”

“I’ve chosen to pardon Regar as a demonstration of kindness and also because I think he holds some use to us,” he said. Jaron squeezed Imogen’s hand, “Besides, it would be disrespectful to kill Lord Row’s hired commander after telling him we’ll give Avenia the aid she needs. You don’t make friends by giving them a prize and then breaking their foot.”

“We’re playing this game for friends now?” Renlyn arched an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes we are. Does that bother you, Lady Karise?”

“Not every friendship holds the best intentions, my king.”

Tobias plucked at his collar, his eyes glancing from Renlyn to Jaron without a hint of subtlety.

The trap had been set. Jaron kept his gaze locked on Renlyn. She didn’t seem like she’d run away, but he’d been wrong about her before.

“A bold claim, coming from a girl wearing a false name,” Jaron kept his voice even, kept his face almost icy. “The pattern was hard to follow, but it made sense. Lord Feall came here first, followed by Jolly, followed by you.”

Renlyn’s movement was slow. Too slow.

She had the speed of a predator tensing before a pounce.

“Just what are you suggesting, my lord?” Renlyn asked. Her eyebrows had risen and her mouth curled down. She was daring him.

Daring him to say the name.

“I’m suggesting that you’re Mireldis Thay,” Jaron forced a smile. “You sent Jolly here to gather intel on Lord Feall, you joined the Faola, and used that as a cover to kill him while still maintaining a comfortable life.”

The silence that followed rivaled the chilling, never ending void of a coffin.

Everyone looked to Renlyn, but she never looked away from Jaron.

“That poses a curious question,” Renlyn mused. “I’m not not Mireldis Thay, just as Princess Amarinda is not not Mireldis Thay. Are we all who we really say we are, your Majesty?”

“Answer the question,” Roden growled. He’d pushed his chair away from the bed, obviously preparing to apprehend Renlyn.

Mott had mimicked the motion.

“Ask it again, if you didn’t like what I said. Be more direct.”

Renlyn was pushing her limits on purpose, Jaron recognized the way she danced around the question. He inhaled, watching for any betrayal of emotion on her face.

All she did was stare at him.

“Are you Mireldis Thay, Lady Karise?” He asked. “Have you been lying to my face the entire time you’ve served my wife?”

“If you require me to be Mireldis Thay, then I am she.”

The answer wasn’t what Jaron wanted. It wasn’t what anyone wanted. Renlyn’s motives were clear at one point; serve the kingdom by being a companion to the queen. But now it wasn’t so easy.

Everyone flinched as Renlyn stood. She flashed a rare, glittering smile. “There is no need to escort me to the dungeons, I’m still a member of the nobility and I’m complying with your accusations. Captain Harlowe, Sir Fink, you can accompany me to my chambers.”

“Excuse me?” Jaron leaned forward. “Do you think this is funny, Lady Karise?”

“I do, actually, but I’m not here to cause a ruckus. Do enjoy Blackberry Night at my expense, King Jaron. May the festivities distract and guide you to the answer you seek.”

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

Jaron almost felt guilty about locking Renlyn in her chambers when he saw the finished decorations for Blackberry Night.

Candles hung in perfect little cages, their light bouncing off of gilded plants. A faint sparkling dust tumbled from the ceiling. Every noble was dressed in shades of cream, gold, and pink.

Even Jaron conformed to the strict color code.

He’d given up fighting Mott about needing an escort, his argument fading to nothing after his inability to stand for more than ten minutes without needing a rest. Jaron agreed to let Mott keep an eye on him until Imogen came.

One of the best additions to the hall was a series of ivy covered trellises forming tiny square rooms. Jaron and Mott had managed to squeeze into one before a forbidden couple could take it. The ivy walls didn’t mask conversations, but it did manage to give Jaron a moment of privacy.

A moment to build walls to block prying eyes.

“That couch looks all too appealing,” Jaron noted, crushing his hand into a fist.

His leg didn’t control him.

“Sit down then,” Mott said. “You don’t want to collapse in front of everyone.”

Very true, unfortunately.

The great hall was packed with glittering doublets and wide gowns. Trying to get to the tables stacked with sweets would require military assistance.

Jaron stared at the couch. “Do you think I went too easy on Renlyn?”

Mott crossed his arms over his plain white shirt, obviously thinking of an answer. He shrugged.

“Maybe I was too hard.”

“I think it’s dangerous to assume things, Jaron. But that applies to all people, not just Renlyn.”

“Too many things make sense if she really were Mireldis Thay, but there’s still a few inconsistencies. It’s not quite perfected.”

“So tell me what you know, and we’ll figure it out together.”

“This is the longest you’ve been nice to me, Mott,” Jaron cracked a grin. “Is it because somebody kicked me?”

“Take a seat on the couch.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Jaron collapsed against the cushions, his leg sighing in relief.

The music playing, some Mendenwal styled waltz, still managed to be heard despite the hundreds of conversations all at once. Jaron tapped the beat of the waltz out on his leg.

Regar, Regar, Regar.

When rearranged, it posed a striking resemblance to another infamous name.

Jaron couldn’t keep his discovery to himself. If he was wrong, so be it, but the pattern was too clever to keep hidden.

“Did you know you can rearrange the letters of certain words to form other words?” Jaron asked, repeating the same phrase he’d used when meeting with his inner circle.

“Yes, you mentioned that,” Mott said. “What words have you created this time?”

“None, actually. I’m just thinking about false names. I lived with a stolen name for a good portion of my life, and I know how important it is to find a name that reminds you of who you are without letting other people know.”

“Are you still thinking about Mireldis Thay?”

Jaron nodded, “I think we’ve been focusing on the wrong Thay.”

Had it not been for the sudden hush falling over the crowd, Jaron would’ve thrown out his newest theory. But not with the quiet. Not where people could hear him and pass on the information.

It could wait.

The continued quiet was too loud to be ignored. Jaron forced himself off of the trellis, using Mott as a support to peek out of the trellis walled room.

Mott was there to push Jaron’s chin back up when his mouth fell open.

Amarinda and Imogen were walking down the stairs with their arms linked. Though Amarinda looked pleasant enough in her gold gown, Jaron had eyes only for Imogen.

“Get out of the way! That’s my wife!” Jaron hissed as he wormed through the crowd of nobles.

Imogen rivaled the spring sun. She was warm, inviting, and covered in only the calmest blooms. Pale pink fabric climbed her arms before vanishing into a pair of round sleeves and reemerging in the front panel of her gown. Tiny pearls had been strung into her hair.

He had every intention of freeing every single one.

“Sorry I’m late,” Imogen flashed an apologetic smile. “Plans changed.”

“I’m going to kiss you right now,” Jaron said.

“Oh, at least let me find my husband first,” groaned Amarinda.

“I think he’s nursing a head injury.”

Imogen laughed, “I haven’t seen him go that shade of red in too long.”

The musicians began to play again. Jaron did his best to fulfill his promise to kiss his wife, but Imogen’s dodging abilities were improving with time.

“No, I put paint on my lips and I refuse to be the girl with lip paint all over her chin,” Imogen put her hand over Jaron’s mouth.

His words were muffled. “You’re the queen, it’s different.”

“Lip paint is messy!”

“The messier the better!”

He’d get his kiss. Jaron knew he would.

Taking Imogen by the hand, Jaron led her to the center of the floor, not at all ashamed of holding her hand like a trophy.

“Are you sure you can dance?” Imogen asked.

“I’ll force myself through at least half of one, but I have other plans for this evening,” he said, nodding his head towards the trellis walled spaces.

Imogen snickered, and set her hand on Jaron’s shoulder as their dance began.

Every one of her features was as familiar as the back of his hand, but he never gave up the chance to study her face. The curve of her nose, the fullness of her bottom lip. Her springtime smile.

There could never be anyone else for him.

Only Imogen.

It was her hand that he reached for in the night to remind himself that he was safe. To remind himself that he’d found somebody who’d never abandon him in the name of peace. He reached for her when the pirate brand on his arm ached and when the past he shoved away couldn’t be shoved any longer.

The throbbing ache in his leg was slowly returning.

Her hand, still calloused from her years as a servant, was a perfect fit in his. If he held on just a little tighter, he could finish the dance.

King or not, Jaron refused to keep Imogen from being treated the way she deserved.

And meant ignoring the pain in his leg for the duration of a song.

“Do you want to-,” Imogen started.

Jaron shook his head, “I only want to be here with you. Tell me what you did today. During the afternoon. I didn’t get to see you.”

“I played with the kitten,” her smile brightened the room. “Amarinda tells me that if I keep giving treats for no reason, the kitten will get too fat to walk. She’d have to roll around.”

“I’d have a carriage made, one that can be pulled by a team of tiny rats. That way, Fink gets his rat, and your cat can get around.”

“But wouldn’t the cat eat the rats?”

“Nonsense, if the cat’s too fat to walk, it can’t catch anything.”

Imogen continued tracing her steps through her afternoon, explaining that the gown she wore wasn’t what she’d originally planned, but she’d felt a surge of spontaneity. The seed pearls in her hair were also a last minute add in.

Nobody could ever match Imogen.

Not her strength nor her undeniable ability to make everyone she met feel wanted.

It was still a struggle to accept that she’d chosen him out of every other man in Carthya.

He was silent when the song ended and Imogen helped him limp to the ivy guarded rooms. Words were hard to come by when both pain and burning devotion met to fight for control.

“Sit by me,” Jaron patted the couch cushion beside him, his smile was small, but he preferred it to a forced grimace of a grin. “I promise I won’t get lip paint on your chin.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to return to bed?” Imogen asked.

“I want to be with you.”

“And I don’t want you to be in pain.”

“It’s not so bad when you’re with me.”

Too much hid behind Jaron’s words. The pain in his leg would go away, and it would come back the next time he was kicked there. It came and went.

As did the pain of the past.

But Imogen made it bearable.

[wizardrywilting]

my favorite quotes from give me silence

ch. 1:  Let her rephrase, a very pretty Muggle girl named Eloise Mary Howard. --- It should be noted that Lydia was mentally compiling her will. --- Arthur Weasley was running towards her, dressed in some combination of a pantsuit and clown costume. --- Immediately, they covered the pranking product they’d been working on with a quilt, this catching it on fire. --- The twins snapped their gazes to each other, then jumped up and grasped hands. They jumped, the wooden floor thudding beneath them. By the time they had finished cheering and jumping, Mrs. Weasley had hollered at them twice, Percy yelled four times, and Lydia was blushing. --- Fred set his chin in his hand. “Tell us everything .” --- “Ginny! You don’t knock on strangers’ doors!” --- (Yes, Colin did get a photo of Neville licking a napkin, stress written on his face. It was hilarious.) --- “You’re the oldest of us, which means you’re the responsible ones.” The twins looked horrified at the idea, and Lydia laughed herself silly. --- Even though it was so cute and honestly, the fur would be cheaper to knit than yarn was - that is to say, on the way back home Chio had already shed enough for them each to have a handful of fur. --- Neville had glitter on his eyebrows, and he was attempting to blink it away from his eyes, face contorting in funny ways. Chio’s fur was doused in blue and purple glitter. Lydia herself had glitter in a smattering of multicolored freckles across her nose and cheeks.  ---

ch. 2:  “If you need me to pick the liquor cabinet’s lock I know how.” --- Mrs. Weasley sighed. “Did they break a window?”  “Uh...We fixed it?”

---

Where Lydia came from, albeit not a traditional family, you learned knife tricks and pressure points to incapacitate someone.

---

“I know. We just never see eye to eye.”

 “No one can meet your eye, you’re too tall.”

---

 “Have good, British dreams, Lydia.”

---

But we’re not...not that.”

 “Of course not, she’s only thirteen. But dear, perhaps you should acknowledge that you fancy her. Merlin knows we all noticed.”

---

It was, quite frankly, concerning. Was this a heart attack?

---

Fred was chuckling, the prat. “Just glad to see you, his brain cells have given up. Wait a minute.”

---

Was she seriously apologizing for a hug? What?

---

“Merlin, I miss you. It was so boring with all the boys. I think I lost some estrogen.”

---

 “Lydia, love, you look like a pixie.”

---

ch.3:

She had wanted to stay behind and ask a few questions, maybe pull out her pocket knife, the usual sort of thing, when she noticed Neville struggle to stand, shaking like a fucking tree branch during a tornado.

---

“Neville, I would make God bleed for you.”

---

Were they twice her size? Yes. Would she still rip them a new one? Absolutely.

---

What right did a little kid with blood in her teeth and something called an ele-friend have to her heart?

---

Madam Pomfrey was smiling at her. Lydia didn’t like it.

---

Sighing, Madam Pomfrey faced Lydia again. “As you were deflecting?”

---

It was a nice painting, surprisingly well done. Lydia’s face was in the foreground, getting smacked in the face by Natalie’s wand, while the girl herself was cheering in the background. The blood on her face was surprisingly realistic. Up in the top left corner, Natalie’s attackers were out cold, various painted injuries littering their bodies.

Lydia felt strangely warm.

---

Lydia beamed. “It’s more like insane. To be stupid you have to have brains. Luckily, I left mine in the dorm today.”

---

 “You called her Minnie.”

Lydia quickly realized her mistake.

 “N-No, I didn’t!”

 “You did,” they sang, “You called her Minnie! We’re rubbing off on you!”

---

Poppy smiled and thus began their weekly gossip. She did so love this child. If only she could tell her.

---

ch. 4:

As with every other Halloween, really the day must be cursed, things go to shit.

---

That does beg the question, why are magical people so determined to risk their lives? Is it a universal thing?

---

Was it petty? Absolutely. Had she gotten caught yet? Of course not, who did you take her for, Parkinson?

---

Harry shrieked like a mandrake, and Lydia quickly sent a spell to silence him.

---

“You. You’re a girl.”

She raised her eyebrow at the log-turned-Sirius-Black. “And you’re not a dog anymore. I’m glad we’ve established that.”

---

He paled a little at her smile, and stepped backwards. “I’ll uh, I got nothing. Oh, look, Sirius! Let’s shift focus to him.”

---

Something seemed to click. “So you’re the kid that sent me a letter with threats.”

---

“First of all, you’re terribly hard to kill, Harry,” Lydia sighed, shifting to sit more directly in front of the fire, “Secondly, think about this. There’s a couple hundred more students than normal, and everyone thinks the kids underage are safe, because why would Dumbledore’s magic ever be faulty? There’s a fourteen year old kid, he looks pretty defenseless, especially now that he’s been lulled into a false sense of security. He probably thinks he’s safe, with the age spell and loads more people that could protect him if Voldemort gets inside Hogwarts again. This would be the perfect time to strike - lots of people to blame, a tournament that could be found at fault, and an old man’s magic coincidentally not working. I’m just saying, if someone’s been after you for awhile and hasn’t succeeded...now’s the time.”

Sirius chuckled nervously. “You’re not a Slytherin are you?”

---

“Are they being mean again?”

 “Who’s they? I don’t know anyone named They. What a weird name, They-”

---

Aria sighed and flopped onto a space between the bridge’s arch where there was a bench. Colin grabbed her elbow so she didn’t do something stupid like fall through. That had to be a safety hazard, right? Was there no safety inspector for Hogwarts?

---

It seems like Ginny was going to get to try out that new boils curse she’d just learnt after all.

---

It was very hard being a Triwizard contestant. Well, that was kind of a lie, and Cedric didn’t lie. Unless it was to tell his dad he was excited for a Ministry job, that is.

---

There were downsides to being a Triwizard Champion too, of course.

-There’s barely any time for friends.

-No alone time.

-Mum cries whenever she sees you, you’re not sure if she’s proud or scared.

-There’s potential for trauma, but hey, it’s writing material.

-You could die or be seriously injured. You’re trying not to think about that.

-The other Hogwarts champion was entered without their own free will and now might be getting bullied and you feel overwhelmed with the guilt.

---

“Cut ‘im some slack, Lyn. He’s got so much to worry about. His adoring fans, for example.”

---

She slugged his arm. “Don’t get smart with me, your job is to be pretty. It’s Lydia’s job to be smart.”

---

George nodded at the three Hufflepuffs. “Pretty Boy, Pretty Boy’s friends.”

---

 “I stand by what I said, purple glitter jazzes up my comforter.”

---

 “Lydia, how are we gonna get down six floors?”

Lydia snorted. “Prayer, Colin. I’m personally praying to Yoshi.”

---

“You know you need the sleep, young lady. Now, fret until ten o’clock.”

As Madam Pomfrey left, covering the snoozing Colin with a blanket, she heard a mutter. “I don’t fret.”

---

ch. 5:

Heidi glared, picking up her cup full of ice cubes and popping one into her mouth with a loud crunch.

---

“Might as well break the rules for a good cause, right?”

---

Ginny gasped. “Oh no, am I gay? I feel gay.”

---

George is running away from the Durmstrang students, and I should go save him before he gets mauled. I told him not to charm their hair and skin orange, but he didn’t listen.

---

Oh, is that Hermione sounding disappointed? Surprising.

---

Glancing to where Alicia and Katie had been flirting all afternoon, she winked.

---

“I set the books to become inanimate again when he apologized to Hermione.”  “He, ah, refused to until blood started dripping into his socks.”

---

“he won’t let me go with Priscilla.”

Ginny leaned across the table. “You mean Lee’s tarantula?”

Lee nodded. “Match made in heaven, I say. But you know how it is, star crossed lovers and all.”

Ginny blinked very slowly for a moment and then left for the Ravenclaw table, shaking her head. 

---

 “Our little snake.”

 “Already sneaking around the rules at such a young age.”

 “I’m fifteen! ”

 “Our little-”

 “-tiny baby rebel. My, how they grow up.”

 “Just yesterday you were learning manipulation. And now, you’re sneaking into a dance.”

---

Finally, George said, “What’s the solution? I’m begging you Lydia, help me.”

She stared him in the face and said, “Aren’t beggars usually on their knees?”

---

 “New plan, because you’re as graceful as Hagrid’s skrewts.”

---

“This is your karma for that idiotic stunt with the dragon.”

 “Are you ever letting that go?”

 “I will when you stop flirting with Death.”

 “I don’t flirt, I tease. There’s a difference.”

---

“Hey Freddie, do you think your mum would be upset if I told her I want to drop out?”

 “Do you?”

 “Kind of. We could get a head start on that joke shop of yours.”

 “With what money?”

She shrugged, finally tearing her gaze back to his. “I guess how all poor people get money - struggling. It's just...I want to be with you and George, where nobody else matters.”

---

ch. 6:

She hoped Luna liked the earrings made from orange skins, it seemed her style and had made Lydia’s fingers sting when juice seeped into a few paper cuts.

---

Ginny barely gave her finger guns before she was sprinting.

---

“Is that allowed?”

 “Probably not,” Colin admitted, then shrugged. “But since when do we adhere to those silly things?”

---

 “Hi, you’re that scary snow white girl Colin’s always talking about, right?”

---

“Ready to piss off some purebloods?”

Ginny grinned like she had just hexed someone. “Oh Lydia. I was born to piss of purebloods.”

---

The night hasn’t gone devastatingly wrong as of yet, and Lydia supposes that’s all she could expect without sacrificing her soul or something.

---

Lydia briefly wonders if she’s just doomed Hogwarts to a fate of destruction. She figures it will be fine. Probably. Maybe.

---

A loud bell rings over the music, startling the band so badly a tambourine gets thrown and hits Professor Snape in his hooked nose.

---

Lydia cuffed his shoulder. “I know damn well your mum didn’t raise you to ignore a beautiful girl, Ron Weasley!”

---

They were all rushed to bed as soon as they got back to the Burrow, the car having malfunctioned and it already being near dawn by time Mr. Weasley learned they were accidentally in the Netherlands rather than England. (How that happened Lydia didn’t know. She’d fallen asleep against George’s shoulder after the fifth hour driving.)

---

She pauses in her unwrapping a little, and she mentally screams.

Look, she’s paranoid and mind reading is possible.

---

  ‘No way!’

 ‘Shut up.’

 ‘How come you fancy him and not me?’

 ‘Shut up!’

---

She began to mentally sing. ‘LA LA LA LA.’

---

ch. 7:

George had the big mouth, and often didn’t bother listening. It was as if he had one functioning ear, and he simply didn’t bother to use it.

---

The things he’d seen...it made him want to set something in fire, or smash something. Neither were an option though, as his mum really liked their curtains and dishes, so he stewed in the feeling.

---

This is how she should be - chasing him with giggles and hexes falling from her lips.

---

“ Ced got high and went swimming with his egg so the task is probably something to do with water. “

---

Sirius, honestly, is not having a good day. Or a good thirteen years, really. The things he looks forward to are rats, pets from nice villagers, and seeing his godson.

---

Ron snorted. “You reckon they think we’re all going in the cave to snog - OW, Hermione!”

---

“Your idiot godson - sorry, totally intelligent and not at all stupid godson -

---

Harry is pouting, and it’s the cutest goddamn thing Sirius has ever seen.

---

As Lydia runs to catch up with the other three, Sirius can hear Hermione demanding what the letter said, and Lydia saying, “If I told you I’d have to kill you. May I tell you?”

---

ch. 8:

She didn’t regret it, a little suspicion of authority figures was healthy.

---

“I’m surprised you weren’t born on a broomstick.”

George sighed with faux disapproval. “I wish I’d been.”

---

“No, you’re pretty...uh, good. You’re pretty good. You don’t have any...toothpaste.”

She laughed again, and George prayed for a sinkhole.

---

He fancied Lydia, and he was totally screwed.

Lydia was by his side every day of the year, basically.

She spent summers at the Burrow, save for those in the States, and they went to school together!

Oh Merlin. If his siblings (read: Ginny) found out they’d be insufferable! No. She couldn’t find out.

---

Katie grabbed her arm and pulled Lydia to her own chest, telling Alicia, “Love, time for Bear Protocol.”

Alicia, apparently doing what Bear Protocol meant, kicked Lee. “Bear Protocol. Now.”

Immediately, the debate cut off, and the twins slid close together, blocking anyone seeing Lydia from behind them. Lee did the same from her right side, and the three Chaser girls did so on her left.

---

 “Why aren’t you in class - oh goodness, what’s this?” Professor McGonagall, for her part, looked about as alarmed as one could make her.

---

Professor Flitwick simply levitated her and told Professor McGonagall, “Alert her professors she won’t be in lessons today, won’t you? I’m sure Poppy will want to keep her for quite a while.

Professor McGonagall sighed slightly but nodded, mumbling something that said an awful lot like, “Attached much?”

ch. 9:

Fred is pretty sure the detention was just for appearances sake, because when they got to Professor Flitwick’s classroom he had pretended to be disappointed, but when Lydia smiled at him he had smiled back.

They had practiced charms Fred is pretty sure weren’t supposed to be taught unless paid extra Galleons for, and he gave them all snacks.

---

“Madam Pomfrey is currently with someone else. She’ll be available tomorrow, or when she finds time.”

George obviously was strung out, because he snapped, “Get Pomfrey!”

 “Madam-”

 “Pomfrey will make an exception, Lydia isn’t a normal patient.”

 “I really doubt-”

Ginny sneered. “Doubt a little less, or you’re getting boils in places cream can’t reach!”

---

“ Mam .” She cried out, and Madam Pomfrey pulled Lydia forward so the girl could grab onto the woman.

---

And if later on Professor Flitwick found and joined them? Well, no one needed to know.

---

[musashi]

Don’t feel self conscious about writing sick fics! I feel like that last post was probably mostly a joke but I also just wanted to let you know I love your fics and think you’re a great writer!! I’m so excited whenever you post a new one, I’m not really even in the Pokémon fandom but I read all your Pokémon fics bc they’re so good!!

i’m very much not joking fdfdghfh like because of the way my autism works, i just really don’t care about enjoying new things. i don’t get “bored” with certain concepts/topics, my love for them is everlasting, so while a lot of people fandom hop or have a lot of interests, i’ve found quite a few that i’m just!!! content to bask in forever. pokeani is one of them, obv! sometimes its really difficult for me to relate to other folks, because media recommendations ultimately end with me disappointing them as i just cant bring myself to focus on other stuff. but for the most part i am really happy to have my one thing that makes me happy like, there is never a void in my life because i can always turn to the thing.

and sickfic is the same way!!!!!! this one singular fanfic trope has me enraptured and it feels good to make and write and read and experience!!! and i love the whump/sickfic community because i know thats... totally fucking normal??? there are tons of authors who only write sickfic and whump. of all kinds! this is literally, like, a normal thing. some of em are kinking out, some of em aren’t, some of em are a weird in between (like me, im like 40% kinking out i’d say) but we’re all just into this one narrative structure.

but even tho it’s normal, i get insecure sometimes because i wrote the highest-rated rocketshipping fic on ao3. when you sort by bookmarks, hits, comments, and kudos, i wrote the #1 rated story. and that praise is all deserved! i am so proud of that story, it was my dream to write it and i did and im such a fan of it, now that it is no longer mine and i have given it to my readers. 

and its that pride that makes me a little sheepish about spending all my time now........ writing 17 fluffy little oneshots about the same thing over and over. i have this constant ghost haunting me making me feel like people are expecting me to write DTE 2 electric boogaloo. like they’re waiting for me to write something profoundly beautiful again. and some of my oneshots are that, but most of them are just me writing something that Isn’t That Deep for my own benefit, and sharing those stories with whos’ interested. truly i am just vibing.

so i made a kinda vulnerable very jokey post about “oh no, this fetish isn’t relatable at all!” and someone who is not at all a hater and has had a lot of sweet interactions with me on here left a comment that got under my skin about how i need to “branch out.” i was already mega insecure about people expecting More from me, and it made me feel like complete shit. i ended up just blocking them, because i really dont feel like trying to get in their head. it sucked. i DID branch out, my debut was out of my comfort zone and i stayed out of my comfort zone for TWO YEARS because i could not write DTE in my comfort zone. my comfort zone is not a multichapter, not a sprawling story, not something big and beautiful and stitched carefully together with hard work. i spent two years outside of my comfort zone, and it was a wonderful experience and now i’d like a nap.

ANYWAYS, thank you so much for taking the time to send this message and sorry for venting a lot on your sweet words, lmao. i need to remember that for every person who makes me feel like shit, there are tons more who like, legitimately like everything i put out and dont have those expectations i place upon myself. the fact that you are not even in this fandom but still read my work, like... sdfgsdfgd. i don’t deserve people like y’all but i’m so happy you’re here, anyways.

[lalainajanes]

“listen, you’re a big bad vampire with huge pointy teeth, you’re scary, I know. I’m totally shaking in my pants. and i get im not supposed to be trespassing over your nest grounds, but all i need is one measly tooth for a spell and ill be right on my way, alright? yes—yes i know you can kill me, so can a cat if it truly wanted to, but im here on business so can we act like adults”

From this list I reblogged ages ago (and also sent to my by @lynyrdwrites and an Anon!). 

Felled By You

Caroline’s about two feet down in the grave, filthy, withaching shoulders and raw palms, when she hears the first rustling in the trees.She stops digging, holds her breath. Strains her ears. Reaches behind her back,slowly, and tugs out the gun she’s got tucked away in her waistband.

She doesn’t drop the shovel. On the off chance that it’s awerewolf who’s wandered far from their territory she’ll have better luck usingblunt force rather than a wooden bullet.

Killing a vampire would upset the uneasy peace that thesupernatural species that call New Orleans home have lived under for the lastfew months. Caroline doesn’t relish doing it but, with her best friend’s lifeon the line, she’d come armed. She’d gone alone, to the cemetery where vampiresbury their dead. She’d planned on committing a grave robbing. Only a moronwouldn’t have prepared for trouble.

On the drive over she’d methodically catalogued all thingsthat could go wrong. Now, with a gun in one hand, her other ready to swing theshovel, she goes down the list. Best case scenario, it’s just an animal huntingup a late dinner. Even if it’s a human she can deal with the interruptionfairly easily. She just doesn’t relish having to.

Bonnie’s getting sicker, the poison she’d ingested weakeningher heart by the hour. Caroline can’t afford the minutes it would take to subduea late night power walker or some drunk who’d wandered away from a bonfire. Shecould manage it easily. It’s one ofher specialties, spells to remove memories or impart her will. It’s a trickybranch of magic, requiring concentration and delicacy, and Caroline can’t riskweakening herself.

Most of her coven is gathered with Bonnie, pooling theirenergy to sustain hers. Caroline and a handful of others had left to gather theingredients to save her. When Caroline gets back she will insist on performingthe ritual herself. She doesn’t anticipate much opposition. Few in her covenare a match for her power.

Caroline wants tobelieve the threat to Bonnie came from outside the coven. But, until she can becertain, she’s not about to let her friend’s life rest in anyone’s hands buther own. Witches with regular access to Bonnie, those that came and went freelyfrom her home, shared food and drinks regularly, are the most likely suspects.

When Bonnie’s recovered, capable of seeking retribution,it’ll be time to hunt for snakes.

A sharp crack sounds, a stick breaking under the weight of afoot.

So much for optimism.

Caroline drops the shovel and spins, using two hands tosteady the gun, her finger resting on the trigger. She’s a damn good shot,thanks to her mother, is confident she can manage to get the heart even if avampire uses maximum speed.

Except, when she sees who the vampire is, she hesitates. Sherecognizes Klaus instantly, despite the darkness. She’d gotten to know hisface, the slash of his cheekbones and the strength of his jawline, in astrobe-lighted club that her coven elders would be appalled to know she went toregularly. They’d never really spoken, just exchanged the a few necessaryshouted words – a need for a drink or the bathroom or to call it a night.

She’d known how he tasted, what his skin felt like when itwas damp with sweat. She’d felt the rumble of a moan caught in his throatagainst her lips, bitten his shoulder when he’d slipped his hand under herskirt and coaxed her to orgasm with gifted fingertips.

What she hadn’t known was his name. Or his species. Hadn’toffered any information about herself. The club had been an escape, a time whenshe didn’t have to be William Forbes’ only daughter, where no one expectedanything of her.

Had been.

She’s been avoiding the place since she’d found out the guyshe’d been regularly groping on the dance floor was the hybrid who’d declaredhimself King of New Orleans.

Relaxing her guard at the sight of him, the little rush ofpleasure she feels, is instinct, a terribleone, but by the time Caroline’s brain catches up Klaus is right in front ofher, his hand locked around her wrist.

She’s so pissed at herself, at her stupid body that’scertain he’s not going to hurt her.

His grip on her is firm but not punishing. He smiles, justas fond as he’d been before he’d known her identity, and squeezes gently, “Minddropping the weapon? I think we need to have a chat.”

She sighs, does as he asks. “It’s plain ‘ol oak. Wouldn’t doanything to you anyway.”

“I assure you, digging a bullet out of one’s flesh isunpleasant no matter what it’s made of.”

Caroline wants to ask when he’d been shot, has a few darkthoughts for the probably long dead perpetrators. Has to remind herself, again,that he’s not an ally. Not hers, in any way. She forces a smile, thin and fake,“Aw, poor baby. Somehow I’m not at all surprised people want to shoot you.”

The noise he makes seems like genuine amusement and he’sstill touching her, his thumb stroking over her forearm. “Now, now, Caroline.I’ve gathered plenty of stories about you and not a single one paints you as aliar. Let’s not pretend you’ve never enjoyed my company.”

“Maybe because you didn’t talk.”

He’s still annoyingly unoffended. His free hand lifts to herface, a fingertip touching her forehead. “You’ve got a bit of dirt here.”

Caroline snorts, rubs at her forehead with the sleeve on thearm that’s not currently in his grasp. “I’m betting it’s more than a bit andnot confined to one area of my face.”

He steps back, finally dropping her hand. Caroline refusesto be disappointed that he’s no longer touching her. He bends to pick up herdropped shovel, spears the tip of it into the earth with annoyingly littleeffort. He leans on it, the picture of idleness, glancing around curiously,“True. Grave digging is an awfully messy endeavour. Difficult to do solo aswell.”

“Wow. That’s really unsubtle fishing.” She crosses her armsto gain a little distance. At least until she’s totally committed to ignoringthe pull of him.

“It’s not fishing. Merely a statement of fact.” He pusheshis sleeves up and Caroline averts her eyes. More of his skin on display canonly up his appeal. “Did you want a hand?”

“Why would you help me? I’m trespassing. Shouldn’t you betrying to rip out my heart?”

“You can’t think I want you dead.”

In her gut, she doesn’t. He’s had plenty of opportunity tohurt her.

Caroline wishes she wasn’t standing in a shallow gravebecause being this close to him is making her skin itch. She’d like to blame iton the layer of grime she’s sporting but it’s not an uncomfortable feeling. It’santicipatory. Needful, egged on by the memories of their bodies movingtogether.

Totally inappropriate given just who he is.

She’s got a mission, an important one; she can’t afford tobe distracted.

Caroline decides to be direct. “I need a tooth. One thatbelonged to a vampire.”

He nods, does not appear at all surprised. “For your friendthat’s been poisoned.”

He shouldn’t know that.

“You…” she’s shaking with rage, accusations and insultstangling on her tongue. Her magic gathers, lashes out, not entirely in hercontrol. Klaus grunts when it hits him, his face contorting in pain. He shouldbe screaming, on his knees, trying to tear apart his own skull to stop thepain.

He’s old and strong but a small part of her is hesitant to hurthim, and that gives him a small window to move. He manages to stagger forward,into her. Caroline trips over the loose dirt behind and her concentration isbroken. They both begin to go down, Klaus manages to grip her closer. A twistof his hips had them landing on their sides, his arm under her head and hisbody taking most of the impact.

He recovers first, is smart enough to get her under him,pinning her hands before she can attempt, however futilely, to claw his prettyblue eyes out. Caroline’s viciously pleased when he speaks, sounding just atouch out of breath, “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh?” Caroline bites out, trying to use her feet to gainsome leverage, “You have no idea what I think.”

“I didn’t poison your friend.”

“Like you’d admit that.”

He tangles their legs together, pinning her easily. His eyesremain human still, no hint of fangs visible. “I’m not here to stop you fromsaving her.”

That stills her. The weight of him eases as she stopsstruggling to glare up at Klaus suspiciously, “Then how could you possibly knowBonnie’s sick if you didn’t do it?”

“I have an eyes and ears in every coven in this city,sweetheart.”

Well, that’s believable. Alarming but Caroline adds it toher list of things to worry about later. “Why would you tell me that?”

“Because I’d like you to trust me.”

She’s too shocked to search for the lie, can’t manage tohide her reaction. Sputters a bit, when she replies, “You’re a vampire. The original hybrid. I’m a witch.”

His lips twist and if he even thinks about needling her forstating the blindingly obvious she’s going to toss another aneurysm at him.

He takes his time in answering, rolling them to the sideonce more. He lets her wrists free but one of his hands comes to rest on herhip. He crowds closer, his forehead resting against hers like he’s imparting asecret. “I knew exactly who you were the night we met. I assumed you knew who Iwas.”

“What?” she exclaims, “why would I have…” Caroline’s handlifts, fingers fluttering in a vague gesture that doesn’t even begin toencompass how intimate their bodies have been.

“Your father might have been notoriously anti vampire but plentyof witches are not. Some of the more… mercantile spirited mingle for financialgain. Others make personalconnections.”

It’s ridiculous but a flash of jealousy burns. “I reallydidn’t need to know that you’ve spent a thousand years boning every witch whobatted their eyes in your direction.”

This time he does laugh, and they’re pressed close enoughthat Caroline can feel his body shake with it. “It’s gratifying to know you’venot managed to convince yourself to hate me, love.”

“You’re lucky I need to conserve my magic,” Carolinegrumbles. And also that she doesn’t wanthis brain to leak out of his eardrums but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Your friend Bonnie, for instance, has been keeping companywith my brother for months.”

She bites back another shrill noise of surprise, shoving athis chest. Caroline knows about Bonnie’s vampire boyfriend (boyfriends, technically) but she hadn’twheedled out the truth of their identities. Plus, she’d only found out recentlyand has been sworn to secrecy. “I’m going to need you to stop talking.” She needsa second or two to process.

Klaus doesn’t try to stop her when she draws away. He getsto his feet, offers her his hand. “Shall I dig?”

She allows him to help her up, eyeing him warily. She flexesher stinging palms. “If you don’t mind. I should have brought gloves.”

He grabs her hands, expression growing stormy as he turnsher palms up. They’re red, blistered, and he makes a noise that conveys hisdispleasure as inspects them. “You should have mentioned you were hurt,” hesays, his tone lecturing.

“It’s nothing.” She tries a joke, “Just my fragile mortalbody protesting manual labor.”

His glance up is entirely unamused. “We’ll have to bandagethese as soon as we’re done here.”

She doesn’t get a chance to protest, to remind him thatshe’s on a time crunch, because he turns and whistles sharply. Three bodiesmaterialize out of the trees and Caroline freezes as she assesses the threat. “They’rewith me,” Klaus murmurs, and she notices that each man, vampire or maybe hybrid,carries a shovel.

“They’ve been here this whole time?”

“Waiting for my signal.”

So, even when she’d attacked him with her power, they hadn’tmoved against her. “Why are you helping me?” Caroline blurts.

He leans in, his lips just brushing her ear, speaks quietlyenough that she’s probably the only one who can hear him, “I do believe I’vealready answered that question.”

He moves away before she can question him, swiftly enoughthat when her hands reach for them they close on nothing. He notices though,glancing back at her with a pleased little smirk as he strips off his jacket. Caroline’shands fall, clenching into fists at her sides.

She half expects the smug jerk to strip his shirt off too.Is a little disappointed when he doesn’t.

Klaus directs the vampires he’d brought with a few flicks ofhis hand, grabs her discarded shovel and digs in. She takes a few big stepsback as dirt starts to fly, “I have to take the tooth myself.” It’s a conditionof the ritual.

Klaus pauses, glancing up at her, “I trust you broughtpliers?”

“Duh.” She fishes them out of her pocket, holding them up asproof.

He nods approvingly, “Good. We’ll be just a few minutes.”

Klaus returns to his task. She considers looking away, knowsshe probably shouldn’t be ogling him. Not when she’s still not sure if she cantrust his motivations.

He wants her to trust him, but why?

Caroline grabs the bag she’d discarded earlier, pulls abottle of water from it. She drinks as she watches them, impressed at the rapiddeepening of the hole she’d labored over. They slow once they hit bone,discarding the shovels and using their hands. Caroline figures she’s up againwhen the three vampires climb out and head back the way they’d come.

Klaus beckons her over, a skull in his hand. “They’ll coverit up again when we leave.”

“Your help is well trained.”

“They’re hybrids. Brand new.”

Her brows lift in surprise, “You agreed not to make any morehybrids.”

“Actually, what I agreed, was that I would not turn an unwilling werewolf.”

Caroline hadn’t been directly involved in those negotiationsbut she’s not surprised Klaus Mikaelson had crafted himself a loophole. “And howexactly did you find willing werewolves?”

“Rather easily, actually.” She expects him to elaborate buthe doesn’t, holding the skull out. She squints down at it, “Does your spellspecify what type of tooth you need?”

“I don’t think so. I have someone working on a more precisetranslation so I thought I’d grab a few just to be safe.”

“Best get to work then.”

The skull is steady in his hands, his grip solid when sheyanks, providing enough resistance for her to work the more stubborn teeth out.He’s mostly quiet, lets her move his hands as needed. Caroline pockets theteeth carefully, reminds herself that she’s doing this for Bonnie whenever ascrape of a crunch of bone leaves her cringing. When she’s satisfied she’s gotwhat she needs (plus a few extras because she strongly believes in planning forcontingencies) she puts the pliers away. “Okay, I think I’m good. Hopefullyeveryone else was successful.”

“Should you need any more assistance I’d be happy to help.”

“Yeah, I’m still kind of puzzled about why.”

His eyes sharpen, impatient and a tinge angry for the firsttime. “I had business in that club the first night. Business that I ended upneglecting. And I’d never have returned if not for you. You cannot be entirely unawareof your own appeal.”

He says it snidely, making it a dig instead of a compliment.Caroline bristles, “Don’t pretend like it’s ridiculous that I might questionyour motives.”

“Hence,” he shoots back, “why I understand that earning yourtrust will take time.” He’s holding himself rigidly, not attempting to hide hisfrustration. It seems like an admission that’s difficult for him to make.

“I… don’t object to that.” Her coven certainly would. Atleast, given Bon’s taste in vampires, she’ll have a friend in her corner.

Klaus relaxes incrementally but his next offer is stillstiff, “Perhaps we should exchange phone numbers.

She finds herself laughing in disbelief, “Oh, now he offers me his phone number.”

Klaus’ head tips to the side in confusion, “You didn’t seemparticularly interested in moving our acquaintance outside of the club. Iassumed it was due to our conflicting allegiances.”

“I had no idea you were well, you, until that meeting a fewweeks ago.”

“Yes,” he says dryly, “I gathered as much when you turned asickly shade of pale and refused to so much as turn your head in my direction.The point was driven home when you didn’t show up the following Saturday or on anyof the following nights.”

He’s been incredibly helpful, and honest, so Carolinefigures she can part with the truth, “I have roommates and you leave $100 billsas tips so I figured you didn’t. I’d have gone home with you pretty much anynight, including the first, if you’d asked.”

He’s obviously pleased with her confession, the skull fallsfrom his hand as he inches closer. Slowly this time, giving her the opportunityto retreat.

Caroline doesn’t move.

There’s heat in his eyes, promises that she knows he candeliver on, and this time when her heart stutters and her skin prickles inanticipation of his touch she doesn’t try to tell herself its wrong.

Is it? Probably. But, since he’s not demanded anything ofher, she’s decided not to care.

“Any night?” he asks, lower than before. His hands skim overher hips, his palm slipping under her shirt to trace the curve of her spine. It’sa blatant invitation and Caroline shivers, wishes that they were a little lessfilthy, that she didn’t have a pressing matter to attend to.

“Any night but tonight,” she amends.

He’s disappointed, she can tell. His head dips, lipsdragging down her throat. “Tomorrow,” he replies, firm. His teeth scrape herskin, the sting quickly soothed by the heat of his mouth. When he pulls awayshe’s breathing hard. “Dinner, first. Then dancing.”

“Pick me up at six,” Caroline agrees.

She kind of doubts they’ll get to the dancing.

[gladioluuss]

SEVENTEEN Album Collection

The title seemed pretty straightforward...

But please do click that Keep reading and read about what I think about the albums and some fun memories that I had with these albums.

Introduction

Welcome to the first post, I’ll be sharing with you what I have collected for the past 4 years of being a Carat. I’ve started being a SEVENTEEN fan aka Carat 3 days after their debut/ when the Adore U MV was released. When I started the entering the fandom, I promised to myself that every album of this group I’ll buy because I started when the debuted but guess what.. I dont have AL1 and Directors Cut also I only have one version for every album with multiple versions (oh come on I don’t only buy albums, I also have expenses for my living yah know!) but yeah the promise is broken. Well its okay because being fan doesn’t define how many album or merch you own right? Anyway, when I already work (I’m still a student) I’ll collect every album and complete it even the japanese version. Please Pledis stop making SEVENTEEN albums have multiple version because my wallet aches and that’s not good :(

Well enough of this long intro and let’s get going with my albums.

Content

17 Carat ; This baby over here is my very first SEVENTEEN album, well its not my very first album because I have 2 fandom before entering the Carat world so yeah. This is I think the 4th to the last copy of the physical store that I bought it to and I feel so lucky because I get to grab one before it comes out of stock in x store. They don’t stock too much album with their branches that often and it may take months and years and ya gurl here doesn’t know online shopping before so I rely on physical stores more than online stores. I got the Black Version of the 13 individual PCs that they have and its fine, its fine no worries.

Boys Be; The start of the version expansion. When its their first comeback I was like wow impressive songs and concept. Well when you’re diving into a new world, you discover a lot and at this point its not about their singing and dancing talent that I admire about SEVENTEEN but their individual special talents like Hoshi doing Choreographs and Woozi composing songs. And I REALLY LOVE THEIR TITLE SONG AND B SIDE SONGS TBH. I even played it into our new speakers and my mom loved it she even saved (songs like rock and fronting) it in her phone! I really think Mansae is SEVENTEEN’s era but still I love Adore U more than anything else (because its their first).

Love and Letter; ITS THEIR FIRST ALBUM! Well I can’t say no to buying both of the version even though its a great pain in the wallet. (TBH its pricey and heavy also haha) I love the letter version but I can’t say that I hate the love version because it has aesthetic content! I pre - ordered this but its not an online store, it is the store where I also bought the 17 Carat and Boys Be. Lucky Me! I had my very first Jeonghan PC.. though its not really a PC but still my baby <3 p.s They had their first win in this era in Show Champion! What a great memory <3

Very Nice / Love and Letter Repackage; Thank God its not a 2 version repackage album. because I’ll go nuts! I don’t have money anymore because I bought 2 versions of Love and Letter right? and its a pricey album each and my mom won’t allow it(me buying another 2 version that is pricey after buying 2 albums in the first time) so there. I really like how I got Wonwoo for the first time here :D and as for having 2 Seungkwan PCs, before it was an okay only because he is a little below my bias list but now YEAH IM HAPPY <3 OF COURSE. He is one of my bias wrecker so its good that I’ve got him (mah bb sunshine <3) 

Going Seventeen (Make it Happen); MY FAVORITE! I mean not really my favorite era but my favorite PCs <3 I got another Wonwoo and a bonus Wonwoo plus Jeonghan PC WAH <3 I ship these two and they are a very lowkey ship but I thank destiny that it exist even though only small population including me supports this ship. This is a very special album for me because so many things happened. First is its delayed for like 2 months so I’m near on giving up but when my friends (I’ll give them initials N and A) went to my house, N and A are KPop fans too like N is a die hard (BTS and SVT) and A is a little bit of a fan (2NE1 Baby); It arrived when we’re having our last day mini celebration (because I’ll be transferring school after that year) in my house. So its like we video ourselves and do an unboxing xD and it was so fun they saw first the photocards before I did. The album has 2 posters, first is the member and the second is a group poster and I GOT A WONWOO POSTER. Our adrenaline was so high that we’re screaming at the top of our lungs when they revealed it to me. Next is reading the photobook AND THE PICTURES ARGHH <3 we just screamed because of these 13 handsome princes and the last part THE PCs! I wasn’t really expecting being so lucky because I got A WONWOO AND WONWOO AND JEONGHAN PCs!!! AND WE JUST SCREAMEDDD  and after that we ate and they left but its fine because THIS MEMORY IS SO PRECIOUS <3 It occurred in 2016. 

Teen Age; This is my least favorite album. Because I wasn’t patient enough to see what the album version looks like and order ROSE QUARTZ AND SERENITY  then when the visuals came out... its black HAHAHAHAH :( I was like not ready about the album. I expected it to be full of rose quartz and serenity and with all the aesthetic feels of it but I just got disappointed with the color and the concept is just too emo for seventeen (sorry if the one reading this loves this version but personally I don’t want to lie just because I wanted to show love) but regardless of this album visuals.. The songs in the album are bop like each and every song were unique and special. Overall its a tie I think? I have a positive and negative output to it. Next time Pledis please release version name and visuals altogether okay?.

You Make My Day/ You Made My Dawn; I won’t elaborate what version are these 2 because so many version so confusing :( ( I h8 u pledis for making me broke). So the You Make My Day Album (on the left) was a gift to me (WAH <3) because my dad has a friend who went to Korea and I asked if he can buy an album and we’ll pay it but He gave it as a gift instead :D That’s a really nice experience hehe. I got Seungkwan Lenticular, to be honest I like this Seungkwan picture a lot. Then I got my 4th Wonwoo PC (he loves me <3) plus I had I cheol in the YMMDawn and 2 shuas for both YMMDay and YMMDawn. Then LOOK AT THAT HOSHI LENTICULAR UGH MY HEART. 

Some last words...

Sorry if some of the pics and blurred or too much white ;_; the lighting in my house was so awful that I had to put some extra lights (and some album picture had so much light in it and turned bad). Also excuse my feels (look at all the words that are in Caps Lock xD). I advise that if you’re just starting to collect albums, don’t rush it. Take time on collecting because if you collect albums too fast you’ll be too overwhelmed and won’t enjoy each uniqueness of the album that you bought. Also if you have albums, try to store it properly to avoid destroying in (well except if you received it with dents already.. we can’t avoid that kind of issue if its shipping tbh. Just be extra careful with the album/s that has dents.) Remember that collecting albums are pricey but if you think that you can handle it financially then I don’t think there won’t be a problem. Hope you enjoyed this first blog entry <3

Annyeong~

[a-forgotten-spirit]

Whole New World

This is an Aladdin themes fanfic for Shallura written for @princeasimdiya12.

It is more Voltron themed then Aladdin but I tried to make it as same as best I could. Changing a few scenes to match and make it not a book and a half to read. I hope everyone enjoys.

Warnings: None

Allura P.O.V

Home. This is what this is, the home in which I was locked away my father watched my movements from eating my dinner to breathing. Scared of the world outside, why? My people were happy or well it seemed they were. Walking down the halls my royal gown clung to my body the white wisps of my hair flowed in a river like motion behind me. I wanted to go out and meet new people. Why was that so bad?

Making my way to the gardens I smiled seeing the flowers in bloom and walked through the paths coming to the middle a beautiful pond-like structure was built holding small fish, fallen leaves and flowers. I sit down only to hear the voice of my father “What was that about Allura” he questioned. He didn’t seem angry but give it a few minutes I'm sure he’d reach it.

“I don’t know what you mean” I spoke in an innocent voice looking over the hedges of flowers and nature seeming to claim the gardens as its own. I always loved the gardens. A calm before the storm.

“Lotor is a perfect man” he started and I already felt my eyes rolling out of instinct, how many times had I had this conversation? I turned to him seeing his form taller than I. Hands on his hips and raised eyebrows.

“I was just playing” I spoke tilting my head to one side and shrugging a shoulder for emphasis, although he seemed mad he never truly was he loved me more then he cared to admit. “I was just playing with the overdressed, self-absorbed Prince wasn’t I,” I said in a higher tone than my usual octave and saw the disappointed look on his face and I covered my words with a cough.

“Dearest you’ve got to stop rejecting every Prince that comes,” he asked and it seemed polite but I saw the desperation in his eyes that made me turn in my heel and walk to a nearby bush. He followed after me as he began to speak once more “The law states that you must be married by your next birthday” I helped him finish the sentence with a sigh as I picked as a bush near the pond structure.

“The law is wrong” I had been pushing that idea since I knew of this dumb rule. It was stupid why did I have to marry by a certain age, my marry if I have no feeling towards my so-called lover?

“You’ve only got three more Quintants,” he said calmly and I played with the petals of a flower before they fall from my wood coloured fingers to the ground below.

“Father I hate being forced into this” I try to reason turning to him and I see the look of confusion mixed with anger sketched upon his face. How could he not understand I simply wanted to be happy?

As the conversation continued my father brought up the fact he wouldn’t be here forever and wanted me to be ‘Taken care of” as he looked to me with a loving expression and a soft voice. I understood that truly I did, I was fearful of the day I would have to part with him and he wanted me to be safe any father thought the same but this is the rest of my life. I wanted to make the right choice.

“Please try to understand I haven’t done anything myself. I don’t have any friends” walking over to the pond as my voice came out seeming to be without a filter but it wasn’t a rude tone which I was thankful for. “I haven’t even left the castle” I tried to reason.

“Allura you are a princess” at his words I felt the anger swirl inside me, he was inches away from me but I wanted to scream and cry. His voice was genuine but his words hurt more than any sword could.

“Well maybe I don’t want to be a princess” I slapped my hand over the calm water of the pond and watched at ripples claim the space in a matter of seconds. Instantly I inwardly apologised to the fish that I had most likely frightened.

My father made a sound of annoyance and trudged off back through the paths and into the castle. My hands came to grip my seat in anger as a scowl grew over my face. I was unhappy with him, I wasn’t going to throw a fit but I wanted by the sun I wanted too.

~Timeskip~

Wrapping myself in a more appropriate attire I made my way to the gardens, it was early morning but I needed to do this. My mind had been made up long before this point and this was my final conclusion. I needed to do this, I needed to know what the outside was like.

As I made my way through the gardens I landed in a more closed off area and went climbing a tree that had overgrown to the other side and smile to myself. Taking the first step up the tree I heard a voice “Allura what are you doing” turning I see the orange-haired man I loved like a second father.

“Coran” I moved to be in front of him and saw the worry on his face, knowing I wouldn't be able to lie to him I sighed loudly and began to speak “I cannot stay here. I am to be married to a man I do not love and probably haven’t met for a dumb old law. I want to be free to see what I have not been allowed too” I explained as best I could, his eyes went from worry to understanding and he nodded.

“Be safe Allura” he smiled and brought me in for a hug, he was always gentle and loving, it was refreshing to have someone like that in my life. My father loved me dearly and wanted what was ‘best’ that it be done by the law.

Nodding my thanks and hugging him back I turn to begin my climb again his help greatly appreciated as he hoisted me to the high branched. Climbing over the tree and onto the top of the wall, I turn to him and smile. “I'll miss you Coran” Putting my feet over so the only thing visible was my head and hands “Goodbye” and I let myself drop from the wall onto the awaiting ground.

Making my way to the nearest village it was early morning the sun was shining and I held my hood closely to my face. Seeing the many people out and about farming and looking after their land and happiness. I couldn’t help but smile, these were my people. Yet I had never spent any time with them, people said hello to me in a happy manner and the smiles went to their eyes which were beautiful from the usual smirks I am used too.

Walking on I saw children running and playing in the street. The marks of my people in their cheeks seemed to glow in the sun and the smile never faltered from my face. How could it? Accidentally bumping into someone I apologise and they just waved it off with a smile. No one in the castle does that, no one.

Continuing on my path I see a child trip and fall into a wagon making the fruit fall out onto the ground the man was old and looked tired began to scold the child walking over I see a man in a black and white suit walk over. He was bulky and had a metal arm, his hair was the same colours as his outfit and I moved closer to see what was happening.

“It’s ok Sir. It was an accent, children you know” he smiled and the man’s face turned to the child and immediately changed into one of fondness. This man's head turned too and he looked to the child “Come on help me pick this up for him” he smiled and bent down on his knees and lifted each piece of fruit gently placing it on the wagon once more.

“Thank you boys, this old back on mine doesn't work like it used too” we all laughed at his voice filled with humour and age. I walked over and did as the other did, picking up the fruits in help. I didn’t look at the man but his eyes met my form a few times. Once finished we were thanked us and I began to walk away with a hop in my step.

“Hey” I heard after me and turned to see the man with black and white hair. “Who are you, I haven’t seen you around here before” he smiled and I had to admit it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever laid my eyes on.

“Oh um” I stuttered trying to think of an accuse “I live in the town two over just coming here for a day trip” replying confidently, I guess my dads nagging at to be a respectable princess paid off. I was good at making things up on the spot.

Nodding his deep voice spoke once more “Oh makes sense” I noticed he didn’t have the altean marks and he seemed to notice my vision staying just beneath his eyes and laughed a little “I'm apart of Voltron” he added and it all made sense now.

“Gotcha made more sense then what was coming to my mind” I smiled. We continued to talk after that, he showed me around that village and took me to a beautiful hill that overlooked a farm, they were growing the most beautiful plants and all I could see was colour. Maybe that’s why I loved the gardens so much there was colour. I found out the man's name was Shiro which fit him perfectly. I wanted to ask if it was short for something but I thought that might be a bit to personal.

“It was very nice what you did for that boy earlier” I spoke and turned my head to him my body leaning back on the fresh grass of the hill. His eyes didn’t leave the valley below but a smile did begin to grow on his face.

“It’s no issue, he was just a kid the old man wouldn't have been able to pick it up on his own. Im apart of Voltron it’s my job to help no matter if a piece of fruit of a planet. I need to help” his words were confident and he reminded me of a leader but being apart of Voltron seemed leader-ing enough. From what I had heard the Black Lion was the leader and he showed the colours but again I didn’t pry.

We stayed talking about everything for hours until I saw some guards coming towards us. “They’re here for me” I whispered and quickly sprung to my feet. Shiro was confused then looked to the guards who were on a mission and a half. Grabbing my hand he began to run.

“Do you trust me” he yelled and I was confused as his hand gripped mine. I could hear the running of the guards and voice getting closer.

“Yes” I said slowly as I weighed why he would ask, I watched a smirk carve its way onto his face and his suit seemed to burst to life as he rose from the ground. Pulling me to his chest his laugh rumbles as we flew through the air at a faster pace as I couldn’t contain my smile and laughter.

We landed and in all the rush of excitement we didn’t notice more guards coming to our location. Pushing me to the ground and pulling Shiro away. “Shiro leader of Voltron you are here arrested for running away after the guards had told you to stay” he tried to reason and I saw nothing was getting anywhere so I got up.

“Stop it” I yelled while I stood my ground small specs of dirt still clung to my robe that covered my identity. My face couldn’t clearly be seen which I was grateful for.

“Oh look at that” one said as the insults continued. These were my guards and they acted like children. It was disgusting to watch. I heard the laughter and Shiro’s pleas but nothing made them let him go.

“Not even for you princess” I spoke and tore my hood off the realization flashed in their eyes they slowly let him go. I watched them with narrowed eyes and they sighed heavily.

“Why are you out of the castle princess. Your father is looking for you” one spoke loudly and clearly. He looked me over and I rolled my eyes watching him. “We need to get you back to the castle” he stated and the others nodded surrounding me.

As I was pulled away and taken I looked to Shiro's mouth a silent ‘Sorry’ and followed men to the castle. It wasn’t a long walk but I was sad by the end, remembering the day I had had. Full of fun and happiness ruined just like everything else. I walked my head low and shoulders sagged in defeat. My mood had completely dropped until I saw the look on my father’s face of anger.

Looking to him the guards parted a path for me and were thanked for bringing me home. I walked forward and the anger flowed through me like Quintessence, by the time I reached him I was on a full-blown high and strode passed him in anger walking directly to my room.

~Time skip~

I stand at my balcony overlooking the garden, I had locked my door long ago and refused to leave my room having been emotionally done with this whole place. That’s until I heard a voice “Princess huh” turning I saw Shiro in all his glory.

“Yes” was all I could muster it was quiet and low as the word fell from my lip.

“Everything you were saying about marriage and being forced into it was this” he questioned worry and sadness clear in his tone. Nodding my answer he to did the same “I'm sorry you have to go through with that”

“Well everyone treats me as though I am a price to be won,” I say walking over to my glass doors that lead to my room. He walked to the edge of the balcony and looked over to see the gardens below.

“I didn’t mean it like that” scratching the back of his head I stepped forward a few spaces. I watched as he stood on the balcony and turned his head only a millimetre “I'm sorry, I’ll just leave now” and I watched as he stepped off the balcony.

Practically running forward I yell “No” I come closer. I felt the fear come through me all at once seeing his head disappear over the balcony.

“What” he popped up and relief mixed in with a lot of confusion started to course through my body. How in the Quiznak? Tilting my head in confusion I see that smile form once more.

“Suit remember. I helped you away from the guards” his voice was light-hearted as the memory came back to me. Nodding in understanding. I look to him as he lands on the ground in front of me. I looked over the suit that clung to him as though it was a living person and he was saving their life. “We could go for a ride in my Lion, get away from the palace,” he asked sheepishly.

“Is it safe?” I asked and saw his eyes glisten at the possibility of me say yes to leaving with him. I looked over his suit once more and then saw the black Lion floating over to us and I stared in aw.

“Of course” was his response before his hand was held out and he spoke “Do you trust me” he used that line earlier when doing almost the same thing and I had to laugh at his choice of wording and nod.

“Yes,” I answered in the same slow and uneased tone I used only hours beforehand. Grasping my fingers with his I was taken into the air and into the Lion's mouth. Shiro sat down and began to fly from the castle.

As we began to fly around I smiled wider than I ever have. The view of the villages below mixed with the beautiful stars on the stars. Where this Lion could go was infinite and I was excited for Shiro to show me a “Whole New World”

[stansrichie]

Scavenger Hunt

prompt: “All that blood looks good on you. It brings out your eyes.“

requested: yes

ship: stozier, reddie (platonic)

warnings: blood, richie’s thicc trashmouth 

summary: richie convinces eddie to help him get revenge on stan for not paying enough attention to him, and some crazy shit happens

a/n: they are aged up in this story (18-19 years old) and this is a more modern setting!!

not my gif

“Staaaaaaaan,” Richie groaned, sitting on the couch, wrapped in multiple blankets. Richie found a new movie at the Redbox down the street and wanted his curly headed boyfriend to join him. “What, Richie?” Stan yelled from upstairs, sighing in annoyance. Stan was currently rummaging through his closet, trying to find an appropriate outfit for the night. Loud footsteps were heard making their way into Stan’s room. “Come watch a movi- what are you getting dressed for?” Richie asked, cutting himself off mid-sentence. “I’m going out to dinner with Bill and then we’re going to go watch the new Star Wars movie in a little bit,” Stan said, pulling off his shirt and slipping on another one. Richie’s face dropped in disappointment. Why hadn’t he been invited to go out with them? “Hmm, well, thanks sooooo much for the invitation. No, really, I’m SO HAPPY my own boyfriend doesn’t want to hang out with me on a Friday night,” Richie exclaimed sarcastically, flopping down onto Stan’s bed. Stan smirked and fixed the collar of his shirt. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re jealous.” Richie sat up, unamused. “Oh no, of course not. Why would I ever be jealous of Bill Denbrough? With his stupid smile, his stupid soft, brown hair, and his stupid voice of pure angelic goodness.” Stan howled with laughter as he walked downstairs to grab his keys and put on a coat. Richie followed in suit. “Don’t worry, Richie. You have nothing to worry about….Or do you?” Stan said, touching his chin with his index finger, pretending to think. “Don’t fucking start that shit, Uris. Can’t you just stay at home and watch this new movie with me? I already made popcorn and everything,” Richie pouted, giving Stan the puppy-dog eyes. It was true, Richie had set up popcorn, candy, and drinks for the two to have a nice movie night. “Sorry Rich, guess you’ll just have to invite one of the losers over instead,” Stan said, making his way to the door. “WAIT, STAN, DON’T G-“ Richie was cut off by the sound of the door shutting. “That fucking bitch.”

Richie and Eddie were currently watching what felt like the 87th movie of the night. Richie had barely been paying attention to any of the movies they had watched; all he could think about was how to get back at Stan for leaving him tonight. There was always some excuse when it came to Stan hanging out with him. “I’m going birdwatching,” “I have homework,” “My parents hate you,” and blah blah blah. Stan was always too busy for him. “Ya know what, Eds? I’m gonna get revenge. If I can’t have Stan’s attention, nobody and nothing else can either,” Richie said, getting up from the couch. “First of all, if you call me that again you won’t have to worry about Stan not paying attention to you at all. Second, I don’t think that’s a good idea Rich, you know Stan hates being messed with,” Eddie replied, getting up from the couch as well. “Of course I know it’s a bad idea,” Richie said, matter-of-factly. “And you’re still gonna do it, aren’t you?” Eddie sighed. “Absolutely!”

“Richie, hurry the fuck up. It’s cold as shit and I didn’t bring a jacket,” Eddie whisper-yelled from the ground. “And whose fucking fault is that? Huh, dipshit?” Richie yelled back from above. “Well fucking excuse me for misunderstanding that your movie invitation was really just an invitation to play a fucked up version of Robin-hood all damn night,” Eddie shouted. It was 10:34PM. Richie had coerced Eddie into helping him get revenge on Stan by taking everything that could possibly distract him and hiding them all around town, including Stan’s bird-book. Richie laughed as he climbed back down from the tree. “Stop complaining, it’s not even that cold.” “SAYS YOU! YOU HAVE A JACKET YOU FUCKING PRICK! MEANWHILE, MY TOES ARE TURNING 75 SHADES OF PURPLE,” Eddie exclaimed, flailing his arms around. “75 shades of purple huh? That’d make for a pretty kinky version of ‘Fifty Shades of Gray’ wouldn’t it?” Richie said, smirking as he led the two out of the woods. “Fuck you, douchebag. Now what? Stan goes home and sees all his shit missing, then you have to go around town and get it back so he doesn’t flip a table?” Eddie asked, rubbing his hands up and down his arms for warmth. “I’m not a monster, Eddie. I’m gonna make this fun,” Richie said, pulling out his phone and smirking.

Stan was just pulling up at his house when he got a text from Richie. “I’m staying at Eddie’s tonight.” Stan rolled his eyes and put his phone down. Richie could be so dramatic sometimes. Stan hopped out of the car and went inside. Nothing looked too bad besides the mess of popcorn and candy left in the living room. He made his way upstairs and walked into his room, only to find that almost every important thing of his had been taken out. “What the fuck?” Stan said, walking around, looking for some sort of evidence. The house couldn’t have been broken into, could it? Stan walked to his bed and saw multiple pieces of paper tucked under his pillow. Stan, Stan my man, Stanarooni, read closely. Everything that could possibly distract you from spending time with me has been taken and hidden somewhere throughout town. The list of missing items are: - Your weird binoculars - Your damn bird book - Your fucking laptop - Your stupid ass backpack - Your mom and your dad Just kidding about the last one, even though I fucking wish…. Anyways…. Solve the riddles on the next couple of pages if you want your fuckin shit back, and maybe stop goddamn ignoring me all the fuckin time and give me some love and attention once in a while, yeah? GOOD LUCK, BABY! — Richie :) “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Stan said, dropping the pages on his bed. Stan dialed Richie, but he didn’t pick up. He called and called at least 12 times, but not once did Richie answer. Stan looked over at the time and it read 10:52PM. Is he really about to entertain Richie and this entire situation, and have Richie to hold this against him for the rest of his life just to get his bird book back? Yes. Yes he is.

It was now almost 2AM, and Stan was about to fucking LOSE IT. He had found every single fucking thing on the list except his goddamn bird book, and he just KNEW Richie had done this on purpose. “I swear to fucking Jesus Christ himself if something happened to my book I’m gonna murder Richie with my bare hands,” he mumbled to himself, stumbling around town like he was lost. On the other hand, Stan had started to realize that maybe he wasn’t paying Richie much attention. He kind of felt bad, but at the same time he’s walking around at 2AM because his dumbass boyfriend hid his shit. “I’ve read this dumb fucking riddle 600 times and still have no idea where the fuck my book- wait a minute. In the tree. This motherfucker hid my book in a motherfucking tree,” Stan said, coming to a complete stop on the sidewalk.

It was the next morning and somehow Richie had once again convinced Eddie to help him out. He wanted Eddie to come to his house with him in hopes that Stan wouldn’t yell as much if Eddie were there, and after offering 5 of his best comic books, a slushee from the arcade, and $12, Eddie had agreed. “Stan’s car is here but he isn’t,” Eddie pointed out, looking around the empty house in confusion. “Fuck, dude, do you think something happened to him? Holy shit. Holy fucking shit I killed my boyfriend,” Richie panicked, pacing back and forth in the living room. “EDDIE, WHAT AM I GONNA DO? WHO ELSE IS GONNA PUT UP WITH ME? WHO ELSE IS GONNA WIPE THE CEREAL CRUMBS FROM THE CORNER OF MY MOUTH IN THE MORNINGS? WHO ELSE IS GONNA ROLL THEIR EYES AT ME EVERY TIME I FALL DOWN THE STEPS? WHAT DO I DO, EDDIE, NOBODY IS GONNA BE HERE TO LOVE ME,” Richie yelled, putting his hands on both of Eddie’s shoulders and shaking him back and forth. “RICHIE CALM THE FUCK DOWN, IM SURE HE’S FINE.” “NO, I HAVE TO CALL HIM NOW!”

Last night after climbing 7 different trees and finally finding his bird book, Stan was completely exhausted and decided to rest for a few minutes on the branch he was sitting on before walking back home, but ended up falling asleep. Ring, ring, ring The noise of Stan’s cellphone ringing made him slowly wake up, only to realize he was a good 25 feet from the ground. Ignoring his phone, he decided it was time to go home and get some actual sleep in his bed. He was surprised he didn’t fall from the tree last night. Flashbacks from the previous night started to flood Stan’s memory, and he suddenly remembered why he was in a tree in the first place. Richie. “I can’t fucking believe that shit actually happened and I wasn’t just dreaming,” Stan ranted to himself, packing up his things in his backpack, which he had found hidden behind a dumpster outside of the arcade last night. In Stan’s haste to get home, while trying to stuff his bird book into his bag, it slipped from his grip. He attempted to reach out and grab it before it fell, but reached a bit too far and was sent soaring down from the tree along with his book and his bag. “AGH- AH- AGGH- FUCK,” Stan yelled, in-between hitting every fucking branch on the way down. Stan landed on the last branch before he hit the ground, and had thought it saved him from plummeting to the ground, only for the branch to collapse under the sudden pressure and send him crashing onto the dirt. 

“Eddie, I’ve called him 27 times. 27 TIMES AND NOT ONCE HAS HE RESPONDED,” Richie shouted. “Maybe he’s just pissed off, I’d ignore you too if I were him considering you hid his things and made him find them all because he doesn’t have his head shoved up your ass,” Eddie replied, nonchalantly. “Oooooh, I see. You think you’ve got it all figured out, huh, Eds? I think you’re forgetting the fact that you’re just as guilty for helping me, so if I go down, you go down too you little shit,” Richie says, throwing a glare at Eddie, who now met the taller boy’s glare. The two were snapped out of their glaring session when they heard the front door open. In walked a very mad looking Stanley Uris, covered in dirt and cuts from the branches. Richie looked at his boyfriend with wide eyes, mainly out of fear for his life since he was at the butt-end of a murderous glare coming from Stan. Richie laughed nervously. “H-hey baby, how are you? You know, all that blood looks good on you. It brings out your eyes.” Stan walked slowly towards Richie, never once looking away from the boy. Richie started to back up in hopes of running away, only to be pushed against the wall behind him. Eddie took this as an opportunity to hightail it out of the house and escape. “Do you know what I had to go through to get this shit back? I FELL FROM A 25 FOOT TALL TREE, RICHIE. NOT 23, NOT 24, BUT 25 FOOT TALL.” “Ya know, I should be really scared right now considering the fact that you’re yelling at me, but something about the way you just pushed me against a wall is turning me on,” Richie said, smirking at his very pissed and very attractive boyfriend. Stan pushes himself off of Richie and walks upstairs. “Don’t even think about talking to me until tonight because I really can’t deal with you right now, especially not when you’re making sexual advances on me while I’m trying to be mad,” he says, walking into his room and slamming the door. “Sorry, Stanarooni, you’re just so irresistible.”

[not-close-to-straight]

*Christmas Eve*

CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST HERE

Enjoy!

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

{{SONG}}

“Merry Christmas Eve!” Tony popped his head into Nats bedroom, hand over his eyes. “Are you guys dressed?” 

“Its eleven in the morning, Tony.” Natasha pointed out with a wry smile. “Why wouldnt we be-- oh.” her smile grew. “No, sorry about that the other day, but this time we are absolutely dressed and absolutely not--”

“--humping against the wall.” Clint finished with a snarky grin. “No, you just missed it. Sorry.” 

“Damn.” Tony wrinkled his nose. “Next time maybe.” 

“Stop giving him terrible ideas!” Natasha scolded. “No one is watching, Clint! We’ve been over this!” 

“But its Christmas!” Clint whined dramatically, then leaned in and booped her nose. “Just kidding baby. I dont ever want to share you with anyone.” 

“Mmm.” Nat kissed him back. “Thats better. Tony, what did you need honey?” 

“God, you guys are cute.” Tony reached into the box he was carrying and pulled out a delicately woven mistletoe flower crown and handed it to Tasha. “I made you something.” 

“Tony! You made this for me!” Her jaw dropped. “This is beautiful!” 

“A mistletoe crown?” Clints eyes lit up. “Tony this is genius.” 

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

“Merry Christmas Eve!” Tony was dancing along to the song over the speakers, and sashayed his way over to where Steve and Tony were curled up watching a movie in the common area. 

“Merry Christmas Eve, Tony.” Steve looked up at him with a big smile. “Are you excited for dinner tonight?” 

“Yes! Dinner in the formal dining room will be amazing!” Tony grabbed another flower crown. “This is for you.” 

“Oh my god.” Steve’s face flushed dark red and he shook his head negatively. “No-- um-- no thank you.” 

“You have to wear it.” Tony insisted. “Its Christmas!” 

“Its Christmas time, Steven.” Thor agreed without looking up from the television. “Anthony’s home, Anthony’s favorite time of year, Anthony’s rules.” 

“I do love you, Point Break.” Tony dropped a kiss on Thors head. “You heard Thunder Thighs, Cap, you gotta wear it.” 

“Fine.” Steve hesitated, then finally reached for it, setting the crown gingerly on his head. “Thanks, Tony.” 

“You are--” Tony elbowed Steve suggestively. “you are very welcome. He who gets the mistle toe also gets the di--” 

“Thats enough Tony! Thank you Tony!” Steve said loudly. “Goodbye!” 

Tony was barely out of the door before Thor was grabbing Steve and dragging him over his lap. “You look like my queen in a crown, beloved.” He murmured. “I am going to kiss you until the mistletoe falls off the branches and onto the blankets around us.” 

“I love you.” Steve grabbed him closer. “Stop making me blush and start kissing me.” 

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

“Flower crowns!” Tony cried, pushing open the door to the kitchen and grinning at Sam and Val. “Heya Val. you want a flower crown?”

“What’s with the crowns?” Val raised an eyebrow curiously, but not unkindly. “And isnt that mistletoe?” 

“Yep!” Tony held one out between them. “I made them and I expect someone to wear them so figure it out! The one who wears the crown gets the di--” 

“You will look so beautiful in this.” Sam snatched a crown before Tony finished his sentence and placed it lightly on Val’s head. “I love your hair, you know that? You should definitely wear this the rest of the night because it makes your hair look... just so pretty.” 

“You’re dumb.” Val rolled her eyes but stood on her toes to kiss him anyway. “But Ill wear this as long as you--” she whispered something in Sam’s ear that made him cough and grin, his hands tightening around her waist as he whispered an answer back. 

“Adorable.” Tony flung a little glitter at them. “Merry Christmas Eve.” 

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

Pepper was on the phone in her office when Tony came in, and she put up a finger warning when he grabbed some glitter and aimed for her. 

“Anthony Edward Stark.” she whispered fiercely. “I am on the phone with the new CEO of Hammer Tech and if you throw glitter at me while I am negotiating a buy out I swear to-- Yes! Yes Mr. Carter I am still here. Actually, yes Tony is here today! Would you like to talk to him? Oh wonderful!” she motioned frantically for Tony to come take the phone. 

“This is Tony Stark.” Tony was instantly all business as he took the phone from her, hopping up on the desk and snapping his fingers for a notebook and pen. “Yes. Mr. Carter we can absolutely go over all of those details. My consulting hours are from-- “

“-- you are available right now for as along as he needs!” Pepper hissed. 

“--My consulting hours are whenever you need them to be.” Tony finished, glaring at Pepper in annoyance and jabbed a finger at the box of mistle toe crowns.

“Oh I love these!” Pepper whispered in delight. “Tony, thank you! James will be so excited to have an excuse to kiss me all night!” 

Pepper pinned the crown on top of her perfectly styled hair, pulling a few curls loose to hang around her shoulders and lifted her phone to snap a picture to send to the Colonel.

“Really?” Tony mouthed. “A selfie? Be professional!” 

“Thanks for taking the call.” Pepper waved at him and slipped out of the office, and Tony slumped into her chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes, not ready to sit through hours of business deals on Christmas Eve.

But then--

“Oh Mr Stark!” Pepper came back into the office almost immediately, talking entirely too loud to make sure Mr. Carter on the other side heard her. “The kids just got here! They are ready for their present!” 

“Oh!” Tony tried not to laugh. “Oh, Ms. Potts, I completely forgot about that. Mr. Carter, could I call you after the holiday?--Thankyousomuchmerrychristmasgoodnight!”

Tony slammed the phone down and sent Pepper a look. 

“Sorry.” She shrugged unrepentantly. “I couldn’t hang up on him without being rude, but you’re the CEO so you can do whatever you want.” 

“Ugh.” Tony kissed her cheek. “Maybe next time you just disconnect the phone line. I made you head of the company so I didn’t have to ever talk on the phone, remember?” 

“I remember.” Pepper kissed him back. “Thank you for my crown. I love it.” 

“You know, you and Nat loved your crowns. I feel like the guys dont think its as fun as you do. Steve practically kicked me out of the living room, and Sam glared at me. So rude.” 

“Are you telling them the one who gets the mistletoe gets the dick?” 

Tony grinned. “Uh... yep.” 

“Oh Tony.” Pepper sighed. “Its a good thing we love you.” 

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

“Brucie-bear!” 

Bruce looked up from his book long enough to get a mistletoe flower crown to the face as Tony winged it across the lab. 

“Merry Christmas Eve!!!!” Tony yelled as he ran back up the stairs. 

“Merry Christmas Eve!” Bruce called back, setting the crown on his unruly hair and going right back to reading.

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

“Hey sweet thing.” Bucky pulled Tony into his arms and rubbed their noses together. “What are you doing?” 

“Um hey.” Tony looked around to make sure no one was watching and held up a flower crown. “So I made these and I-- I mean, I want to wear it, but you know... I want you to wear it? You know what Im saying?” 

“I have no idea what you’re saying.” Bucky laughed. “But you’re adorable saying it, so please keep talking.” 

“Hewhogetsthemistletoegetsthedick.” Tony mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck uncomfortably. “And we havent really-- like just hands and stuff? So we havent really had this talk yet but--” 

“Did you say he who gets the mistletoe gets the dick?” Bucky clarified, blue eyes lit as he tried not to laugh. “Tony are you kidding me?” 

“Ok but you know-- Nat has one and Pepper has one and Steve has one and Val has one and--” 

“Really? Val?” Bucky smirked. “I would have thought Sam--”

“Me too!” Tony burst out laughing. “But he definitely jammed it on her head so--” 

“Here ya go, baby.” Bucky took the crown and placed it over Tonys hair, settling it snugly. “This looks perfect on you.” 

“Thanks.” Tony pushed away a little sliver of disappointment and smiled anyway. “So tonight for dinner we should--” 

Bucky grabbed another crown and set it on his own head, tilting it rakishly and fluffing his dark hair theatrically. “How does mine look?” 

“So good.” Tony dragged him down for a hard kiss. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, sugar.” Bucky fit Tony closer against his body, left arm wrapping around Tonys waist to keep him still. “If you want to ya know... switch? Sounds like fun. Cant wait to be with you every single way I can. In fact... its Christmas Eve and we are both wearing mistle toe.” He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. “Why dont we go unwrap something together?” 

“Oh god.” Tony laughed again. “Merry Christmas Eve to me.” 

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

Dinner in the formal dining room was a success. 

The men all wore sharp black suits, and the women floor length gowns. 

There were five courses, served by staff Tony had hired just for the night. 

Maria’s beautiful silver flatware and delicate china place settings looked incredible against the deep red table cloth and the crystal glasses were sparkling under the chandelier. 

Tony reached up to touch his flower crown, blushing when Bucky copied the motion and winked at him. 

“I cant tell you guys what it means to have you all here.” Tony stood to give a toast. “i know Christmas with me isnt exactly easy or calm, so thank you for putting up with my shenanigans, with all the candy Ive been eating and leaving places, the resulting sugar crash that ends with me sleeping one of you, all the glitter and tinsel, the music, the lights, the sweaters---” everyone laughed and he grinned. 

“Anyway. I love Christmas. And this year, I love it even more with all of you here. Thank you, for all that you mean to me and all we have been through and all the family and just... love that you all bring to our Tower. Wouldnt be home without you.”

He raised his glass high. “I love you guys. Merry Christmas to us.” 

“Merry Christmas, Tony.” The team clinked their glasses together, shared smiles and kisses between them. “We love you too.” 

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