#maybe I’ll play a dwarf

[rosasappho]

i want to play baldurs gate but the underdark, while beautiful, has me unbelievably stressed.

[suguann]

Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 

"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”

The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.

"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.

Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.

He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.

"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”

You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.

Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.

His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”

Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.

“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.

Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.

Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 

“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”

Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.

“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”

Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.

Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"

You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 

"Ah, fuck—b-but–"

Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 

"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.

Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.

He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."

The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”

Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.

Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.

Masterlist

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Octorio x Octo Mer Child reader but reader lost a tentacle in a barracuda incident and is now insecure and doesn't want to come out of their hiding hole and punching the octorio with their other tentacles when they try to get reader out?

(Btw love your writing!🫶🏼)

Nemo Child Reader | Yandere Octotrio

It’d be the same as Octo - Merchild that’s scared of Octavinelle except this one has the scars to prove it

But what about a Nemo-like Reader

Who was injured by a barracuda when you were developing in your egg

But you don’t remember that so you don’t really care about it now

All that remains is your little tail that has a deformed fin

But that doesn’t stop you 

When the Octatrio proposes taking you on a swim 

“So you’re from the sea?”

“Yup I think I haven’t changed in a looong time.”

“If you’d like we’re going to the Coral sea for break, would you like to come?”

“Oh yeah!” 

“You can’t go too far okay?”

“Okay!”

they just aren’t prepared to see such an obvious scar

You’re such a little young fish

And you have no fear of them even as they dwarf you in their forms

“Whatya guys holding your mouth open for come swim with me!”

“Uh…Right…”

“I’m surprised they can swim as fine as they do.”

“Oi Clownie-(Y/n) did you lose your fin to a shark or what?”

“Floyd!”

“It’s okay it’s actually a super cool story!”

They’re actually worried that you’re not more afraid 

And that’s what they’ll decide to begin teaching you to be afraid

“Okay (Y/n) you’ll have to tell me what do you do if you see the creature on the card coming towards you, okay?”

“Mmm okay!”

“Now this.”

“Jellyfish?...Maybe a big hug?”

“No. What about this one?”

“Oh yeah he’s a friend of my dad’s so hug too!”

“Oh Sevens.”

Despite priding the deep on being their teacher for their lessons about survival 

They’re not letting you get the same lessons

“Ne Jade wanted me to teach you about running but now we’re just playing tag!”

“Is that so bad? I’m having fun.”

“I would be if you weren’t so slow. Why aren’t you faster? You know little guppies like you get eaten real easy.”

You’re obviously not fit to learn the same way they did

So they’ll get you an anemone

A perfect little way to keep you protected 

But that’s only in the sea when it comes to things on land you’re none the wiser

So they’ll be your anemone 

“Should that student ever say that to you again I want you to come to the Lounge.”

“But I can’t buy anything I’ll just get in the way.”

“No you won’t. I’ll personally handle who ever bothers you. Big Brother Jade promises you.”

“Mmm okay!” 

Moving you into the Octavinelle dorm posthaste

You’re so oblivious they’ll have to just take care of it 

Don’t you know they’ll protect you best

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes ch 8

masterpost Danny did his best not to float through the building. His chest buzzed pleasantly with cheerful nerves. Jason had let him into his haunt and let him meet a family member: it was only fair to reciprocate with a little vulnerability. He was more than a little nervous that his interests weren’t cool enough. But Jason was actually listening to him, not rolling his eyes or hiding boredom at how many details Danny rattled off. It was really nice. It made him want to find out what Jason was passionate about, too. It made him want to curl under Jason’s arm. Like, lift it up and insert himself in the warm space between Jason’s body and arm. He could just sneak on in there-

Hmm. Wait. Danny blinked as he tracked his train of thought back. PDA? He stole a glance. Probably not a good idea so early into hanging out. It would come off clingy. Since Danny was legitimately a clingy motherfucker, he had to play it cool for a while to trick Jason into a false sense of security. He was trying to be on his best behavior still. 

“Oh hell yeah, we’re going to the Ring Nebula.” Jason was reading the signage, bright eyes tracking everyone moving around them and steering them effortlessly. Danny noted the multitasking with a sort of puzzled admiration. He could walk in a crowd or he could read, just one of the two. “What’s a nebula?” An incredibly subtle aura washed out from him with his self assurance and confidence. Jason just felt so in control. It was incredibly reassuring to be around. Crowds parted for him and all Danny had to do was keep pace. 

“It’s the remains of a star.  That’s a Messier object, actually. There’s a white dot at the center which is a white dwarf and then around it there’s helium, hydrogen, oxygen-” Danny cut himself off, embarrassed. He was so messy, oozing excitement all over the place. He reeled himself in and cleared his throat. “You can read about it when we get there.”

Jason frowned very slightly.

Danny felt his stomach twist. 

“What’s a Messier object?”

Oh. Danny relaxed. He talked with his hands as he explained the French astronomer, barely noticing the crowd swell that nearly bumped into him. Jason put an arm over his shoulder and steered him away. Danny absently recognized the assist but didn’t have any processing power to think about it right now. 

Jason let him go on for most of the date, which Danny would probably be embarrassed by later. In the moment, he basked in the attention. It was just nice, okay?

“I should head back.” Jason said with regret. His arm clenched just a little harder on Danny’s shoulder. His hand was warm where it hung down Danny’s chest. “Gotta get Duke his bribe and then get ready for work.” 

Danny waited for a moment. He didn’t want to step away. But maybe Jason didn’t either, because he didn’t take his arm off.

‘One of us has to move first.’

“Yeah, of course.” Danny regretfully disentangled himself, ducking out of the hold. He was a grownup or whatever. “Better get a move on. What are we getting for Duke?” They’d only snacked on ice cream while they were in the planetarium. 

Jason checked the time on his phone and let out a huffing sigh. “I don’t have time for my original plan.”

‘Because he humored me here for two hours…’

“Gimme a sec, I’ll call him and ask what he wants me to pick up.” Danny nodded in response and started jogging down the stairs out of the building, trying not to look like he was listening in. He didn’t want to listen in, he just had really good ears.

Ring once, ring twice. Then Duke picked up the call.

“Hey,” Jason said. “I-”

“Hey yourself,” said an unfamiliar voice that definitely was not Duke. It was sweet with malice.

‘Did Jason’s little brother get kidnapped while we were out?’ Danny wondered, struck still with horror. He stopped with one foot hovering over the next stair and wheeled around to look at his date.

Jason looked thunderous, brow pulled low and teeth showing. “Fuc- why do you have his phone?” Jason’s tone went high and aggrieved.

Danny prepared himself to beat the shit out of a living human. It wouldn’t be hard. 

“Because I am his favorite older brother. Obviously.”

Oh. The fight left Danny’s body in a rush.

“I am pressing X,” Jason snarked. He squeezed Danny’s shoulder and guided him into movement again. “Give it back to him and get out of my house.”

“Tu casa es mi casa,” said the man who had to be the infamous Dick, balcony infestation. “Why do you care?” His tone was so innocent that Danny sort of wanted to turn on his heel to escape whatever older shithead sibling fuckery this was. “Aren’t you busy making kissy faces at the summoning guy?”

Danny bounced off of Jason’s chest when he stopped walking midstep.

‘How does he know that? Jason didn’t say anything, right?’

“And, follow up question for Jay, does this make you a monsterfucker?” Duke howled with laughter in the background. Danny noted the betrayal. 

Dick sounded gleeful as he pushed on the topic. “He’s dead, right? What supernatural romance genre are you in? Is he going to take you to his creepy castle and keep you there? Does he have an ancient enemy who might kidnap you? Do you think he could carry you away when he rescues you? Are you looking forward to that?”

Danny huffed and yanked Jason’s hand down to bring the phone closer. He hit the speaker. “Of course I could carry him. But I would not keep him in my creepy castle against his will, you jerk,” he fumed. “And I don’t have any ancient enemies! At last, no one that I haven’t already beat up. It’s fine. Shut up and go away.” He crossed his arms.

Jason was bright red. Dick started laughing hysterically on the other side of the phone. “This is- hi, Danny!” he cackled. “You have a creepy castle, though? For the record?”

Oh no. He felt a rock form in his stomach.

‘I probably should have kept my mouth shut.’

He looked at Jason’s feet guiltily. Belatedly, he let go of his grip on Jason’s wrist.

“You sound great, wanna meet up? I need to hear about how you’re so sure you could carry my little brother away from danger. It sounds romantic.” Dick cooed. Ew. Danny bristled. This was bringing up all sorts of Jazz related trauma.

“He will not be meeting you.” Jason took the phone back. “Ever.”

“Ever?” Dick scoffed. “I really doubt that. I don’t think you could keep him away from me for one day.”

“Oh yeah?” Jason somehow puffed up his chest. “Then come find me, jackass.”

“See if I don’t.” 

Danny scoffed. “As if I need his help to dodge some nosy dweeb,” he sniffed. “Bring it, balcony creep.” He hit the end button before thinking about it.

The staircase suddenly seemed very quiet. 

Jason and Danny looked at the phone for a moment. Then Danny frowned as he realized what he’d done. “I was going to like, go back home,” he pointed out uneasily. “But that doesn’t seem in the spirit of this shitty brother challenge. And, uh.” He cleared his throat. “You had evening plans, right….”

Jason groaned and paced a few steps. He ran a hand through his hair. Danny idly watched it and wished it was his hand there. “Uh… Sorry. I can tell him to fuck off, that you’ve got better things to do.”

“...I don’t have better things to do,” Danny admitted. “I kinda want to see if he can hunt us. He’s just some guy, right?”

Jason made a face.

“Just a human guy?” Danny repeated slowly, because the hesitation there was uh, really interesting. 

“You remember how we met, right?” Jason sort of shuffled in place for a moment before he herded Danny down the sidewalk in the direction they had originally come from. “I wouldn’t say he’s a normal guy.”

…Oh, right, he’s a vigilante. Danny snorted. “That’s cute,” he said, not even trying to avoid cockiness. “I’m not worried.” He cracked his knuckles and didn’t pay attention to how bloodthirsty his grin was. “I am going to destroy your brother in a game of hide and seek so brutally that you won’t be able to look up to him afterwards.”

Jason opened his mouth. He closed it, with a considering expression. “That’s hot. Yeah, show me what you have. I can skip patrol for the night.” He gave Danny a roguish grin. “Where to, first? We have an hour before he’s out on the streets. We can get dinner, strategize?”

Danny closed his mouth on the boast that he didn’t need to strategize. This was a perfect opportunity to spend an hour batting his eyes at Jason from across a candlelit table. “Somewhere nice,” he said innocently. “He won’t immediately look for us at a date spot, will he?”

[queenxxxsupreme]

A Helping Hand

Charles Smith x f!reader

A/N: I haven't written in a very long time, but I have gotten back into playing RDR2 and Charles has my heart. So I hope you enjoy this! It's just a little something to warm me up and hopefully get me back in the grove of things <3

Warnings: none, just fluffy

Word Count: 1097

Summary: When things finally settle down in Colter, you tend to a wounded Charles Smith.

A hand on your shoulder made you jump in your seat. You tore your eyes away from the fire and found Susan standing just behind you.

”How are you holdin’ up, girl?” She gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Your eyes flickered towards the back of the room. Abigail stood over John, scolding him as she checked his bandages. 

“I can’t complain, Ms. Grimshaw.” You spoke quietly. “My heart's still beatin'."

“Well, I appreciate that line of logic. There are some folks around here who can’t seem to stop complaining.” Her gaze shot over to the girls, who were talking quietly to each other and reading. “If you need anything, you just let me know.”

“Thank you, Ms. Grimshaw.” You offered her a little smile. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not tonight, girl. It's late and we all need to get some rest."

You nodded your head gently and watched her walk away.

The door to the rundown cabin opened and a gust of chilling wind flew through the room. You shivered, pulling your coat tighter around you.

There was a quiet murmur of the people in the cabin greeting Charles.

“Good evening, ladies. Reverend.” 

You watched him move towards the fire. You shifted in your seat, preparing to get up and out of his way. 

“You’re okay, miss.” He held a hand out to you.

“Just don’t want to be in your way, Mr. Smith.”

“You aren’t.”

Your eyes followed him as he knelt down at the fire. He picked up the poker and stoked the flames, checking the wood to ensure it would last the night. 

You took note of the way he held his right hand, cradling it close to his chest. 

“How are you doing, Mr. Smith?” You asked him. “I-I mean, considering everything.”

“I’ll be better once we are out of these mountains.” He let out a sigh. “How about you?”

“I think I have to agree with you.” You paused for a moment as he put a log on to the fire. “Have you had that hand looked at?”

“No, ma’am.” He admitted with a light shake of his head. 

You shifted in your seat a little, smoothing out the material of your skirt. 

“Why don’t you let me take a look at it?”

“I don’t want to be a bother, miss. I’m just checking the fire and then I’ll be out of your hair for the night.”

“You’re no bother, Charles.” The corners of your lips turned up just slightly. He held your gaze for a few moments, clearly debating on what he should do. “It would, at the very least, give me something to occupy my mind for a few minutes. Stop me from thinking about what happened back there in Blackwater."

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

”Pull up a seat. I just need to grab a couple things.” 

While Charles pulled a chair closer to yours, you went to the back of the room to get a few things from beside John’s bed. 

“Oh. Hi, Y/N.” Abigail greeted you. 

“Hey, Abigail. How is he?” You tucked a piece of bandage under your arm and grabbed a clean rag. 

“He’s okay. For now.” She let out a sigh, crossing her arms as she looked down at the man on the bed.

“Don’t sound so happy about it.” John muttered. 

“Well, maybe next time don’t go gettin’ your face half torn off by a bunch of damn wolves!”

“I’m sure you’ll be back on your feet in no time, Mr. Marston” You said, your eyes met Abigail's. "If you need anything, just let me know."

She put her hand on your arm momentarily, giving you a soft squeeze as a sign of her thanks.

You returned to your chair, finding Charles with his hat off and resting it over his knee. 

You held your hand out for him and wordlessly, he placed his hand in yours. His hand practically dwarfed your own. But nonetheless, you held the back of his hand, holding him where you needed. 

“So what did you do to your hand exactly?"

“I don’t even know.” He sighed gently. “There was… so much going on. So much happened in such a short amount of time.”

“That’s fair.” You nodded your head. “I hope Mr. Dutch can get us out of here as soon as possible. I’m afraid the weather up here won’t be kind to us.”

“The Grizzlies aren’t known for being forgiving.”

There was a moment of silence that fell between you both. It was a comfortable silence, and you were thankful that he was a quiet man. You didn't have the energy to entertain anyone at that moment, to carry an actual conversation.

You poured a little bit of antiseptic liquid on to the rag, and then began to clean around his wound. You were doing your best to avoid the actual wound itself, but that was easier said than done because of the poor lighting in the room.

Charles hissed, curling his fingers as if he wanted to make a fist. But he didn't pull his hand away from you.

“I-I’m so sorry, Mr. Smith.” You hastily apologized, brows furrowing together as you looked up at him. "I'm sorry."

“Don’t apologize.” He shook his head. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, miss. You’re okay.”

You nodded your head. You cleaned the wound a little more before putting the rag down. You started to fan his palm, wanting the antiseptic to dry as much as possible before you dressed it.

As you gently fanned his palm, your eyes flickered up to check his face for any signs of discomfort and instead, you found him gazing back at you. 

This was the first time that you were this close to him. You took advantage of that and took the chance to really look at him, to study his features up close— but specifically, his eyes. 

They were brown like the earth kissed by warm sunlight. There were speckles of amber, honey, and cinnamon within the deep pools of brown. You wondered what kind of stories they held, what kind of images they had absorbed over his years.

“Has anyone ever told you you’ve got pretty eyes, Mr. Smith?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his plump lips. 

“Not that I can recall. That isn’t the first thing most people notice about me.” 

It took you a moment to realize that perhaps you made a mistake. What if you made him feel uncomfortable? What if he took your compliment as interest in him?

You diverted your eyes away from his face, choosing instead to focus on finishing up with his hand.

When his hand was all wrapped up, he rubbed the bandaged palm with his opposite hand.

“Hm.” He grunted, nodding his head gently. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You smiled. 

“Good night, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Good night, Mr. Smith.”

You watched him leave, the wooden door closing tightly behind him. 

You didn’t realize you were staring at the last place Charles had been until a bunch of giggling caught your attention. You turned your head to see the girls watching you.

“Is Y/N goin’ soft on Mr. Smith?” Karen raised her brows. 

“It sure does look like it, Karen.” Tilly nodded her head. 

You swatted a hand in their direction, shaking your head in protest. 

“I was just helping him. It could’ve gotten infected and we can’t afford to lose anyone else.”

”Sure, Y/N.” Mary-Beth hummed, turning her attention back to her book. “Whatever you say.”

[sinnabarmoth]

These Roses Have Thorns

Pairing: Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Reader has feelings for a man she met at the arcade named Sylus. There are two major problems though. 1. He has feelings for someone else. 2. This means you've contracted Hanahaki disease. Could having a crush be any worse?

Content Warnings: Adult language. Kidnapping. Descriptions of coughing up flowers.

Length: 6k

So you had worked at the arcade for a while now. It was a pretty easy job as jobs went. You restocked claw machines, vending machines, disinfecting joysticks, made sure floors stayed swept and that kids weren’t climbing into through the claw machine flaps to steal toys. For the most part you were behind a desk just people watching.

You saw a lot of couples come in and out, playing games and acting all adorable. It made you long for something like that. You had been single for a while now and the desire for a boyfriend got stronger and stronger every time you saw another ridiculously cute couple come in.

There was this one girl you saw come in a lot. She was always with a different guy though. All of them good-looking. You thought that maybe she was a serial dater or maybe she just had three different boyfriends that she was cheating on. Maybe she was just friends with all of them and you were reading too much into it. It was hard to know for sure because she was so stinking cute and the guys she came in with her were all drop dead handsome.

They spent most of their time at the claw machines winning prizes. After a while you stopped blinking an eye when she came in with the blond then the purple haired guy then the serious looking dark haired man every week. Whatever their relationship was, it was none of your business.

Then one day someone new walked in. You were sure you had never seen this man before. He had silver hair, blood red eyes, and had on dark clothes that stood in stark contrast to the peachy pink interior of the arcade. He spotted you staring and walked up. He was also tall as could be, easily dwarfing you by a good few inches.

“Can you exchange these bills for tokens?” his voice was a smooth and rich baritone that made your toes curl in your shoes.

“Oh uh,” you forced yourself to stop staring and take the bills he held out for you. “Yes. Right away.” You turned, heart hammering hard in your chest as you stuck the bills in the coin machine behind you and exchanged them for a huge bucket of tokens.

“There you are.” You set the bucket on the counter. “Sure is a lot of tokens, planning on playing a lot of games?”

“There’s a certain plushie that a friend of mine wants. It’s apparently a limited supply stock so she was adamant about getting it, but she also got called away on work suddenly. So here I am.”

“Oh! The cake bunny one? Yeah, we don’t get them in very often.” You couldn’t deny you weren’t tempted to steal one for your own plushie collection back home. “Well, sounds like you’re a very good friend. I wish the best of luck to you.”

“Thanks.” he took the bucket and went over to the claw machines. From where you were stood you could keep an eye on him, and you were more than thankful for that. He was definitely not bad to look at.

You watched him for a while, trying and failing over and over to get the plush he desired. He was having good luck accidentally grabbing other ones though. You did end up having to go over and talk to him when you noticed him use an evol on the machine.

“Sorry sir, no evol influence with the machines.” you said, scampering up to him. “Company policy.”

He sighed, looking in at the glass case and recalled his evol. “This bunny is proving far more difficult to get than I anticipated.”

“You got a lot of others though.” you picked up one of the little stuffed bumblebees. “Even if you don’t get the bunny you can shower your friend in all these.”

“She has most of them already.” he poked the bee you were holding. “If you want any of them, feel free to take them. I’ll have no use for them.”

“Really?” you squeezed the bee plushie to your chest.

He smirked. “Of course,” he leaned in closer so he was almost nose to nose, “If you can do me a favor and look the other way on this evol business. What do you say?”

Your face flushed and your heart went racing again. “Oh uh…” you looked away. “I mean, it isn’t like I’m losing money if you end up getting the toy. Just don’t be obvious about it, okay?”

He chucked you under the chin. “You’ll see that I can be very stealthy, no one will ever know about this. Your understanding is greatly appreciated, have your pick of the lot, honey bee.”

Did he just call you honey bee?

He turned back to the game, his evol re-emerging to help move the cake bunny plush into a better position. You were stuck for a moment before remembering yourself and grabbing two other plushes from down by his feet and carrying them back to the desk.

You glanced back over your shoulder and saw that he was watching you with a satisfied smile. A tickle fluttered in the back of your throat and you coughed lightly to dislodge it, though it did nothing of the sort.

The day continued on and soon it was time for you to start locking up. Unfortunately for him, that guy was still at the claw machine. He was hitting his head off the glass and looked about two seconds from breaking it and just grabbing the plush.

“There is no way that this isn’t rigged somehow.” he said. “There just isn’t a way I can be this bad at getting one stupid toy.”

“Well, you got one more token.” you handed it to him. “One last chance and then I gotta lock up.”

“Lock up?” He looked around at the abandoned arcade. “How long have I been at this?”

“Long enough that it’s night now.” you gave him a little pat on the back. “Come on, one last try. You got it.”

He sighed and put in the last token. “You can do it! I believe in you!” Maybe a little cheering would help.

He gave a wry smile and moved the joystick so the claw was over the toy once again. He hit the button and lo and behold the plushie stayed! It dropped down into the chute and the lights flashed as he finally won.

“Three hours…” he took the plush out of the machine. “She had better appreciate what I went through for her.”

“I’m sure your friend will. Now come on, I was supposed to have this place locked up a half hour ago.”

“If you closed half an hour ago why didn’t you kick me out sooner?”

“You had been at it for so long and you didn’t have that many tokens left so I decided to just leave you to it while I did some cleaning.” you shrugged.

You left the arcade and locked the door behind you. Then cursed when you realized it was raining. Walking back to your apartment was going to suck. Why hadn’t you brought an umbrella?

The man went to a motorcycle parked by the curb and got on. “You waiting for someone?” he asked.

“No. I think I’ll just wait to see if the rain lets up any.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t impose.”

“You let me cheat at the game and kept the arcade open late for me. I can give you a ride home, I have an extra helmet.” he opened the seat and fished out a helmet.

Your heart did another pitter patter in your chest. “You don’t mind? I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.”

He rolled his eyes and tossed you the helmet. “Get on the bike, honey bee.”

“Okay. Thank you.” you pulled the helmet on. He sat you on the seat of the motorcycle and told you to hold on tight so you didn’t fall off.

You gave him the address for your apartment building and he drove straight there. It was nice getting a ride but because it was on a motorcycle you were still getting drenched by the rain. Finally you made it back to your apartment and got off the bike. “Thanks again,” you said. “Um…sorry I don’t know your name.”

“Sylus.” he held a hand out.

You shook it. “It was a pleasure.” A crack of thunder made you jump. At the same time your phone beeped with an alert. Automatically the emergency alert started playing.

“Severe and unsafe weather conditions. All citizens are encouraged to stay inside. Roads experiencing flooding. Drivers are advised to pull over and remain where they are until the storm has lightened at eleven PM tonight.” the automated voice said.

“Sheesh.” you looked at Sylus as he prepared to get back on his bike. “Hey! You heard that alert the same as me. You shouldn’t be driving.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Famous last words.” you stormed back into the downpour and grabbed his arm. “It’s not safe. Please. Come inside, just until the rain lessens.”

He considered you for a moment. Something in your eyes must have resonated with him or maybe he was pitying your pleading look but he got off the bike. “Lead the way.”

This…probably wasn’t a good idea. Then again none of the choices you were making tonight were necessarily good considering that you didn’t know this guy. You watched him fail at a claw machine for a couple hours, that was it. And from that you decided to keep the arcade open late, got on his motorcycle, trusted him with your actual home address, and were now inviting him in. You didn’t get a vibe that he was someone who was going to hurt you but if your friends could see you right now they would yell at you for letting a strange man into your apartment for an indefinite amount of time!

Well too late. You were in it now.

You walked up to your apartment and let him. Your immediate course of action was to change out of your wet clothes and into dry ones. When you came back out of your room Sylus was still standing in the entry way dripping wet.

“Oh shoot, I forgot you were also still soaked.” you shoved your wet clothes in the laundry. “I think I have something you can change into while I put those clothes in the dryer.”

“And what do you have that you think will fit me?” he asked.

“I’m pretty sure my ex-boyfriend left some of his sweats here when we broke up. Let me go find them. If you want you can go to the bathroom and dry yourself off, I’ll set the clothes outside the door.”

He nodded and went into the room you pointed to. You fished around in your drawers finally finding a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt your ex had missed when he was packing. The pants may be a little short on Sylus and the shirt was definitely going to be a bit snug since his chest was a lot broader but it was better than nothing. You set the clothes outside the door to the bathroom and went about wiping up the puddles of water while you got the kettle boiling. Rainy nights were a good time for hot tea and instant ramen.

The door to the bathroom creaked open and Sylus came out wearing the dry clothes. Like you thought, they weren’t a perfect fit but he didn’t look uncomfortable in them.

“I’ll just take those.” you grabbed the wet clothes and tossed them in the dryer. “Do you want anything to eat or drink? I was making some tea and ramen for myself if you wanted anything. Pretty sure I have some leftover curry too, some snacks, anything sound good?”

“Tea is fine.” he said.

You nodded and poured both of you cups of tea. There was a bit of an awkward air around you two as silence descended. You decided to have mercy and turn on the TV to distract yourself. After your ramen was done you both went to sit on the couch and watch whatever was playing.

As the storm raged on outside you found yourself becoming more and more at ease with your guest. The conversation wasn’t groundbreaking or anything but it was pleasant. He was pretty funny when he wanted to be. Time passed and you barely even noticed when the rain finally let up. It was nearly midnight when your phone alerted you that the streets were safe for drivers again.

“I’ll be taking my leave then.” Sylus said, “Thank you for inviting me in.”

“No problem. Thanks for the ride home.” you pulled his clothes out of the dryer and handed them to him. “Did you want to change back before you left?”

He shrugged on the jacket. “No. This will be fine. I need to get going sooner rather than later.”

You walked him to the door. “This has been a pleasant evening, more so than I was expecting.”

“Glad to know I was a good host.” you beamed. That tickle in the back of your throat had been getting more persistent all evening and you cursed as you turned to hack into your elbow again.

“Sounds like you should have gotten a hot shower when you came home instead of playing hostess.” Sylus said. “Can’t have you getting sick.”

“I’m not sick, I just think there’s some dust in my throat or something.” you wiped at your watering eyes. “Stay dry out there. Good night.”

“Good night.” he nodded and left.

Once the door had closed a large dopey smile had grown across your face. This evening had been so nice! He was really cool and kind and interesting. Not to mention pretty darn handsome. You were afraid you had made your mooning over him obvious by the end but he didn’t seem to have noticed. Probably too distracted by your annoying cough to realize you were gazing at him like a lovestruck school girl.

Maybe fate would lead him back to your arcade another day. You’d be brave and ask for his number if that happened.

You went to bed with your head full of fuzzy warm dreams. You were probably asleep for an hour or two before you woke up again coughing like mad. You could feel something caught in your throat. You know you could! Oh god, were you going to puke?

You swung out of bed and ran to the bathroom coughing and coughing and coughing until your throat was raw and your eyes watered so much you couldn’t see. When you peered down into the toilet bowl you saw a splash of red and your blood went cold. Oh no…was that blood? Were you coughing up blood?

You wiped the tears from your eyes and saw the red spot was not blood at all but instead a bright red rose petal. “Oh shit…”

~~~

The next couple days you could not stop thinking about that damn flower petal. Of course the second you developed a crush on a guy it would turn into Hanahaki disease! Hanahaki was annoying disease that was caused by a metaflux fluctuation hundreds of years ago that had permanently altered human DNA. So now, anytime someone fell for someone who did not reciprocate that feeling they coughed up flowers.

Your life wasn’t in danger. Hanahaki was an annoying chronic disease that lasted so long as you had feelings. You could opt for surgery to have it removed but it was still experimental. You knew that early surgeries had resulted in the patients being unable to fall in love at all after completion. Newer surgeries had seen progress where it just removed the inability to ever develop romantic feelings for the person you previously liked again which was a lot more doable.

Most people just lived with it until they finally had their hearts move on or if their unrequited love turned into an actual love match. The ratio of people who contracted Hanahaki and those who actually got with the person they had feelings for was not great. Then again, you checked five different medical websites and numerous forums and results varied wildly from place to place.

So you were just stuck with this. Coughing up stupid red rose petals again and again, all because you had the gall to like a guy. What a cruel world you lived in. It was absurd! You met the guy once! Spent a couple hours chatting while watching TV and that was it. What were the chances you were ever going to see him again? You just had to wait this out until your heart forgot about him.

Did suck to know that he must not have felt anything for you either. You had really thought you had some kind of connection.

A few more days went by and the cough wasn’t letting up. You didn’t want anyone at work knowing so you lied about having a slight cold and wore a mask to avoid questions. It was another normal day when you heard the door open. Glancing up from your notebook you saw who had walked in. Sylus!

The tickle in your throat started up again. A faint ray of hope shone down on you before being immediately crushed. Right behind him was that girl. The one that you saw coming in all the time with the other good looking guys. She was all oblivious smiles as she tugged on his arm towards one of the claw machines and you watched as Sylus’s expression softened at her touch, letting her pull on him toward the line of machines. It was the same look you had seen on every other guy that came in with this girl. You had seen enough love struck couples walk in and out of here to know exactly what was happening. He liked her.

She was the one that he had spent all that time and money on to win that stupid cake bunny plushie, wasn’t she? Fuck!

This girl had four different guys falling all over themselves and you couldn’t get one guy to look at you! This was beyond unfair! Why did it have to be this guy? Why did she have to add Sylus to her little harem? Would she not be satiated until she had every single good looking guy in the city fawning over her?

You took a deep breath in through the nose. You needed to stop. She was just a girl. Not her fault she’s cute and pretty and stuff. And Sylus didn’t owe you anything. He was just a stranger who had given you a ride home and made small talk with you for a couple hours. That was it. Still, it hurt. You turned around, coughing violently until you felt the wet velvet of a flower petal on your tongue. You tugged the mask down to spit out the petals and dropped them in the trash. This was a nightmare.

“Um…” you turned around at the sound of someone clearing their throat. It was the girl again. She gave you a bright smile. “Can I get some tokens please?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” you pulled the mask back up and exchanged the bills she gave you for tokens.

For the next hour or so you watched as Sylus and this girl went around winning prizes and playing games. You heard them mention getting lunch somewhere as they strolled to the exit. At least you didn’t have watch them any more.

As they were leaving though you saw Sylus turn his head and made direct eye contact with you. You straightened automatically. He gave you a polite smile and then he was gone with the girl.

You sighed. “I’m just an idiot, aren’t I?”

The day came to an end and you locked up the arcade. When you turned around you noticed a motorcycle pull up by the curb. He driver lifted the helmet off and you saw it was Sylus. “Glad I caught you.” he said. He fished something out of the storage compartment of the bike and held a bag out to you. “I washed the clothes you lent me. Here you go.”

“Oh,” you took the bag. “You really didn’t need to give them back. Not like I was going to miss them.”

He shrugged. “I don’t like being indebted to others.”

“Well, thanks.” you rocked on your heels. As he was pulling his helmet back on you felt a question flying off your tongue before you could swallow it back down. “I saw you come into the arcade earlier with a girl. Is she the friend you spent all that time winning that prize for?”

He looked up surprised. “Yes. She was very happy to have the toy but thought me ridiculous for spending so long to get it.”

“It just shows you’re persistent.” you forced a saccharine smile but realized he couldn’t see it behind the mask. “So is she like your girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Oh.” That made you feel a little better. “Then is she dating someone?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing. I just see her come in a lot with other guys and I figured one of them had to be her boyfriend.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “I have a feeling I know who you are talking about.”

Silence descended again. You wished he would just drive off so you could stop yourself from asking questions you knew would hurt you. “So…do you like her?”

“Yes.”

You swallowed back the urge to cough and throw up an entire bouquet of red roses. It felt like the roses in your lungs had spread to your heart and were constricting it with their thorny vines. One word from him and he had devastated you in ways you didn’t even know possible.

“Cool.” you said, your voice tight with control. “Well, good luck with that.”

You turned and started walking down the street, needing away from him before you did or said something else idiotic. Unfortunately he was not letting you off that easy.

“Do you need a lift home?” he called after you.

“No thank you. It isn’t raining tonight.” you said.

“But it is late and you don’t exactly live in the best part of the city.” he said, keeping pace with you on his motorcycle.

“Not as bad as the N109 zone at least.”

You could sense him watching you and when you turned to look at him he had the visor open and was giving you an unimpressed look.

“What?”

“I live in the N109 zone.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It isn’t for the weak.” he parked. “Now hop on already.”

Despite your best judgement you found yourself replying, “Fine.”

He dug the spare helmet out and passed it to you. You hopped on the back of the bike and held onto him as he drive you home once again. Without the rain pouring down on you, you could focus on the ride more. The lights of the city flashed by you so fast they looked like ribbons trailing behind you. Then there was Sylus who was so warm against you. You wanted this drive to never end.

When you got to your apartment building you handed him the helmet back. “Thanks again for the ride. Now I owe you one.”

“I’ll be sure to cash in in the form of you looking the other way when I use my evol to win arcade games.” he said with that smirk that made your insides melt and your lungs constrict. “Now go inside, turn on your light so I know you got in.”

“How like a mother hen of you.” you teased. “See you.” You bounded up the steps and got to your apartment. You turned on the light and went to the window. You saw Sylus down below give you a thumbs up and then he drove off.

The moment he was gone you doubled over and started coughing again, more petals falling from your lips. “These feelings aren’t going away any time soon, aren’t they?”

You were right. Your feelings did not go away as you had hoped they might have. After that night he drove you home again your feelings only continued to grow. This strange little thing became a more common occurrence.

Sylus would come by the arcade with the pretty girl every once in a while to play games and such. Then when evening came and you were locking up, he’d be waiting on the curb to drive you home. You tried not to think anything about it. Tried to tell yourself that he was just being kind. That he was just doing it to keep you in his good graces so you didn’t fine him for using his evol on the machines.

But the hopeless romantic in you saw something else in all his little gestures. Sometimes you would invite him in for coffee or tea and he’d join you for a bit inside. You’d chat as you sipped and then he’d have to leave. Most of the time when you got back to the apartment he’d stay outside and wait for you to turn on the light before driving off. But even that little act of making sure you got inside safely made your heart flutter.

Your weird little friendship was only making you fall harder and harder. And the harder you fell the worse the Hanahaki got. You had finally hit the stage where instead of a couple of petals you were coughing up entire rose heads. Thankfully they were small buds and not huge in full bloom blossoms but it didn’t make them hurt less.

Somehow you had gotten away with keeping your Hanahaki a secret from Sylus. You knew it was only a matter of time till he figured it out though. You had barely been able to cover your tracks and you could tell he was getting suspicious.

Finally you realized that you had to just bite the bullet and tell him about your feelings and the Hanahaki. You knew the chances of him reciprocating were slim to none. He had feelings for someone else but at least it would be off your chest. Maybe then you could finally move on.

It was another day and once again Sylus had driven you home. You turned to go inside but stopped and steeled yourself to tell him how you felt. When you looked back at him though he was tapping his finger quickly on the handle of the bike. “Something wrong? You look antsy.” you said.

“I’m just in a bit of a hurry.” he said.

Your heart clenched painfully, or maybe that was your lungs. “Going to meet your little girlfriend?” you teased, despite the ache in your chest.

He scoffed, “You don’t want to know my business, honey bee. Now head inside.”

“Alright. You get going if you’re in such a hurry.” you ushered him off.

He glanced at his watch and sighed. “Yeah. See you later.”

He took off down the street going far faster than the speed limit allowed. One of these days you were going to have to talk to him about not speeding. Even if he did have some kind of weird advanced healing factor it wasn’t safe for others for him to be going that fast.

You sighed. Your lungs ached as another flower decided it wanted to pop out. Fuck!

You coughed your way up the stairs to your apartment, finally spitting out the little red bulb. Did it look more in bloom than normal? “Well that’s just great.” you muttered. “Guess that’s my punishment for not saying anything. Maybe next time.”

You automatically reached to grab your key from your bag and immediately realized you had left your purse in the storage compartment of Sylus’s bike! Damn it! You grabbed the knob of your apartment door, knowing it wouldn’t open but frustration wanted you to try. You turned the knob and…the door opened! Did you forget to lock it before you left? That was careless but fortunate.

You stepped inside trying to figure out a way to tell Sylus he had your purse if you didn’t have your phone. It was probably why you didn’t notice the shadows at first. Not until you kicked off your shoes and your brain caught up, making out three large figures clad in black standing in your living room.

“Don’t make a fuss and this won’t be a problem.” one of them said.

You immediately turned to run back out the door but the figures lunged, grabbing hold of you before you could turn the handle. Someone hit the back of your head and it made you so dizzy you pitched forward, eyes rolling back into your head.

You couldn’t say when you came to again. There was some kind of bag over your head and you were aware you were in a car, could feel it bumping along down a road. Your head ached and you felt a stickiness at the back of your neck that you couldn’t discern as being blood or sweat. When the car came to a stop you were pulled out and walked somewhere. Even with the bag over your head you felt yourself swaying with dizziness.

Why was this happening? Were you being kidnapped? Trafficked? For what reason could someone want to kidnap you from your home?

You were sat down and tied to chair before the hood finally came off. You could tell pretty instantly you were in some abandoned old factory building. The figures that had kidnapped you were standing around you, two were men and one was a woman.

“What…what is going on?” you said, forcing your thoughts to stay straight. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“Don’t worry,” the woman said, “We’ll let you go once your boyfriend pays the ransom we send.”

“Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.” you told them.

“You do.” one of them, a burly building of a man, gruffed at you. “No point trying to play dumb.”

“I’m not playing dumb. I don’t have a boyfriend. Whoever you think I am, I’m not the person you’re looking for.” you snapped at them. “Please, just let me go.”

“We saw him drop you off.” the woman said. “The leader of Onychinus.”

You wanted to question what they meant by Onychinus, you were sure you heard the name before. You were bad about keeping up with the news so you couldn’t say what it meant at the time. It was the other part that caught your attention though, they said they saw your boyfriend drop you off at your house.

Oh dear god above! “You mean Sylus?” you asked. Their gazes hardened.

“See. You do know who we are talking about.” the woman nodded to the more wiry man on her left. “And you wanted to grab the other girl.”

“Sylus isn’t my boyfriend you idiots!” you seethed. At the same time the statement made your lungs spasm. Shit! Not this too!

“We’ve been tracking him for a while and we have noticed time and time again that he drives you home, even comes inside. There’s no point denying it.”

“I’m not denying him taking me home. I’m denying him being my boyfriend. We’re just friends.” coughs wracked your body. You gasped around the flower pushing itself up your throat. “We’re--we--” more coughs shook you, “are nothing. I mean nothing to him.”

“You can say that as many times as you want but we know--”

The woman was cut off as you finally coughed up the flower and spit it onto the floor. All three of them froze as you took in ragged breaths.

“What the fuck is this?” the wiry one kicked the flower. “Do you have Hanahaki?”

“What gave it away, dumbass?” you muttered. “I told you. He’s not my boyfriend. I like him but…but he doesn’t like me. He has feelings for someone else.”

“Shit!” the woman continued to curse. “We grabbed the wrong one?”

“Told you.” the wiry man said.

“Shut it!” the woman snapped at him.

“What now, boss?” the burly man asked. “We can still try ransoming her if they’re friends.”

“You think he’s going to care that much about her worthless little life? There’s every chance he’ll just let us kill her if we send him a ransom.” the woman tsked. “Might as well keep ourselves off his radar until we get the right girl. Let’s just kill her now and move on.”

“Wait!” you screeched, “Wait please! You don’t have to kill me! I promise I won’t say anything if you let me go. Please!”

“We’re not taking that chance.” she leveled the gun she was carrying at you and a loud bang echoed in the room.

You closed your eyes, tears streaming down your face as the realization hit you that you were going to die in the moment. Was this really how it ended? Executed over a case of mistaken identity and a crush on a guy you met at work?

You waited and waited for the bullet to strike but you didn’t feel any pain. Maybe she shot you through the head and didn’t even get a chance to feel the pain. Maybe your brain was stretching out these last couple of seconds of your life. Maybe you were already dead.

Then you heard more loud bangs and your eyes snapped open. You were still in the warehouse. You weren’t dead! But then what--

You looked up and saw that Sylus and the pretty girl from the arcade were there. The three people who had kidnapped you laid on the floor, whether they were unconscious or dead was unclear. There was a tiny clink of metal and you saw a bullet fall to the ground and roll towards your feet. Had it just stopped halfway?

“You check her, I’ll get these guys.” the girl said and leaned down to check the kidnappers for a pulse. You really needed to learn her name at some point.

You felt the restraints holding you loosen and fall. Sylus walked over and knelt down in front of you. “You alright?”

“I…” without the restraints keeping you up you fell forward. Sylus caught you and sat you down on the ground. You relaxed into his arms, taking several deep breaths to still the shaking. “Sorry. What happened? How did you know I was here?”

He held up your purse. “You forgot this in my bike. I turned around to run it back to you and saw a van careen away from the apartment building. When I went up to your apartment the door was open and the inside looked like it had been ransacked. So, I called in some back up and found where that van had taken off to.”

“She a co-worker of yours or something too?” you asked.

“We actually operate on opposite sides of the law.” he shrugged. His gaze went to the flower on the floor. “What was this for?”

Your face burned. There was too much going on right now.

“Honey bee,” he turned your face to his, “Why did they kidnap you?”

“They thought I was your girlfriend. They wanted to ransom me back to you.” you said. “And the flower…I coughed it up.”

“You have--”

“Yes.” you almost wished the bullet had killed you so you didn’t need to have this conversation. “We don’t need to get into it.”

“Hanahaki is nothing to be embarrassed about.” he said. He glanced over at the girl who was stepping away to make a call for backup to come arrest the kidnappers. Sylus looked back at you, talking quietly. “I had it too.”

“Really?” you should have guessed as much considering how much he seemed to like this girl.

“I was coughing up bleeding hearts for months.” he sighed. “They’re small but still not fun to constantly be coughing up flowers.”

“You said you ‘had’ it. Does that mean pretty girl finally returned your feelings?” you could feel an entire bouquet of flowers about to erupt from your throat just thinking about it.

“No.” Sylus answered.

Your eyebrows shot up on your forehead. “Then, you got the surgery?”

“Also no.”

“Then what happened?”

“I…” he held you a little tighter, “I started coughing up pink peony petals instead.”

“Hanahaki can just change flowers in the middle of the disease?”

Sylus shook his head with a dry laugh. “No. As far as I am aware, the flowers are individual to the person the unrequited love is for.”

“Then who is it that you…” realization and a spark of hope started to rise in you.

He gave you a small smile. “I think we have a lot to talk about, honey bee.”

[antivastalon]

another!!!!! firham aldwir 🦌

all of my rooks so far!

kalais de riva 🐦‍⬛

nicholas ingellvar ☠️

kubran thorne 🦅

arel mercar 🐉

[yanderenightmare]

What if curse darling tried to escape from yandere gojo? How would he punish her 🤔?

Gojo Satoru

P1 & P2

TW: abduction and captivity, mild condescension, a lil angsty

gn reader

You rushed over once you heard him at the door – but the smile only barely stretched your face before dropping again. 

Coming to an abrupt halt, the former intention of hugging him was wasted, and the words meant to welcome him home went stillborn on your tongue. 

Nevertheless, he tugged off his blindfold with his thumb, and his pearly hair fell down in pretty whisps around his crown, shadowing the light of those stark blue eyes that slowly peeled open – and unaffected by your stilled state, he still kicked off his shoes and tugged you into his chest anyway – nuzzling his nose into your neck with a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“Mh, I missed you~”

Your nose twitched, and you sunk your teeth into your lip – feeling puzzled and awkward and slightly sick to your stomach. Arms hanging loosely by your sides as you let him sway you into him – dwarfed by his height, he had to slouch in order to hug you properly – with lanky arms slung around your midriff, pulling you close in a squeeze before loosening up again.

He kept his hands on your hips as he placed a kiss on your lips, but you didn’t react. Still standing there, something akin to frozen.

“Hey- where’d you go?” He called, cocking his head to the side while looking into your eyes with those searing earnest blues of his. “Not happy to see me?” He joked softly in a snicker – lightheartedly carefree.

It all felt so very wrong it made you release a sound that wasn’t too short of a whimper, albeit much weaker, almost so he didn’t even hear it.

“You-” You started but couldn’t quite finish, unsure of what it was that you needed to say. 

You looked down at his uniform. It wasn’t much. Maybe he hadn’t noticed or maybe he just hadn’t cared – but… flecks of blood dotted the black fabric.

It smelled of curse – a dead curse – a killed curse.

You grimaced. 

They’d been pained and scared toward the end – toyed with – dismembered and mutilated – mangled beyond repair. But for whatever reason you couldn’t fathom, he’d given them time enough to heal only to bring them back to the brink of death yet again – played with them for what you could tell had been a long while.

You smelled ridicule and a cry for mercy layered with a later cry for death, and it shook you to your core.

You shivered, taking an abrupt step back – removing yourself. Rubbing your goose-fleshed arms as you hugged yourself for comfort – reeling from the cold-hearted cruelty you’d felt seep into your bones from his touch. 

He’d barely even washed his hands clean of all the blood.

You swallowed thickly, unable to look him in the eye – just staring at the spray of browned red that had since dried, now cakey and flakey, falling off like dust. 

“You reek-” Was all the bile in your throat amounted to in the end – only a weak utterance.

His brows did a play of confusion before he followed your gaze, looking down at himself and finding what you were staring at. 

Oh…

Despite being a cursed spirit, your nature isn’t exactly violent. Guess you’re not as desensitized to carnage as him. 

It’s still odd, though. It couldn’t be sympathy he saw riddled on your face, right?

No. You’ve always been sensitive to dirty things. You’re just your normal disgusted self. You would have reacted the same way if it were ice cream.

He walked inside with a laugh, ruffling your hair as he passed you.

“Right- I’ll go shower. So uptight~” He dismissed with a tease, removing his jacket as he took long but relaxed strides to the bathroom.

You were left standing there for a moment. Unsure of the feelings brewing inside you. 

You thought you might need to puke, but it never came…

Still, you felt weary and decided to go lie down in bed.

You hadn’t slept in your room in a while. It had become a little dusty but you didn’t mind – you needed your own space right now. A place away from him.

But it didn’t last long. 

You heard him call for you some while later. You didn’t answer – lying in the dark beneath the covers.

“There you are~ You hidin’?” He chirped once he found you. “Or are you sleepin’?” 

You felt the bed sink as he climbed atop the covers, slipping down next to you – curtly running his hand over the duvet, stroking down your side until resting on your hip. 

“Not that I’m complaining- I had a long and boring day anyway.” He continued, scooting closer until he was spooning you tight – pressing his lips to where your ear would be. “Would be nice to end it with a little playtime~”

His toothy smirk slowly became a frown at your silence, sulking with a bored pout.

“You’re not still upset about the blood, are you?” He asked then. “I changed and washed it off, so I’m all clean now- you little neat freak~” Voice smooth and flirty, cuddling your cocooned body.

But still, you ignored him – and the doubt in his mind gave rise to a confused furrow between his brows. He thought for a minute before speaking up again. Squinting at his suspicion.

“That curse was a plague, you know...” He excused. “I had to kill it.” 

He looked at your unmoving body in wait, hoping you’d say something.

And you did – muttering. “It’s not the curse I care about, Jujutsu Sorcerer.”

He blanched. It had been a while since you referred to him that coldly.

“I just forget sometimes.” You added. Voice muffled beneath the covers and almost so quiet he nearly couldn’t hear it.

“Forget what?” He asked.

There was a small pause before you answered him. “What you are…”

The curl on his face unraveled. Face blanking. Wordless.

“I’m sure you forget what I am too.” You continued. “That if I ever tried to leave… you’d hunt me down and reduce me to just a few drops of blood you’d then go home and wash off as though it meant nothing.”

He barely let you finish before yanking the covers off you, exposing you and the tears riddling your face to his view.

“That’s not true.” He denied.

“No?” You questioned harshly, sitting up in a rush – and getting in close to his face – daring him with a glare. “Then tell me. What exactly would happen if I decided I no longer wanted to stay here?”

His hair still dripped with cold droplets from his shower as he returned your stare. Your question was a dangerous one... 

One he’d rather not answer.

He swallowed. “You have to stay here. You know why.” He said dismissively – his voice in that serious timbre he never uses – that tone devoid of the usual frivolity and instead holds that very dogmatic weight that urges you to surrender the fight before it gets too messy.

But you don’t heed the warning. “And if I can’t accept that? If I fight you-”

“Don’t be silly. You could never win-” He cut you off – before getting cut off himself by your next words.

“What if I tried anyway?” Your voice a little louder than before – staring him square in the face.

He paused, taking in your eyes – their narrowed state, as well as the brim of tears circling them. He thought of what he’d done that day and then tried imagining doing it to you – and came to a realization.

“I wouldn’t fight back…” His words were soft again, without edge. “I could never hurt you…” He cupped your face in both hands, his eyes full of something so wholesome it nearly made you flinch.

Then he looked sad. Pained in some way – or guilty, maybe.

“But still…” He started quietly. “I could never let you leave either.”

His hands were warm and gentle on your cheeks, but you wished he’d stop touching you.

“Their blood smelled of terror and torment. Did you have fun torturing them until they gave out?” The question was pointed – your words meant like venom.

His frown returned, letting go of your face – though you both remained only a split hair’s length apart. “So this is about the curse?”

“No, this is about you.” You corrected sharply – mirroring his frown with a bitter one of your own. “Is it the same type of fun you have subjugating me into being your tame little housepet?”

His face soured even more – now as though offended. “You're more than that to me. Don’t say that-”

But once again, you interrupted. “Livestock are pets until slaughter season. Suppose a butcherer would think that’s kind-”

And once again, he returned the favor – this time with his voice raised. “If I let you out of here, another sorcerer would kill you within a day! Keeping you here is what keeps you safe!”

You scoffed with your own voice climbing higher. “Don’t be so rude to paint yourself as a saint when you reek of sadism!”

There was a standstill, an all too deafening silence afterward – one filled with heavy breaths and the lingering echo of your last statement – until that as well, died and became nothing.

Satoru looked down, his head hanging – lifting gently with his breaths. 

“I’m not a saint.” He murmured after a minute. “I’m selfish. And greedy.”

You watched him – much shorter than him, even as he hung his head, you were still able to see his eyes flicker with uncertain light beneath those heavy mothlike lashes.

“I didn’t kill you like I was supposed to because I saw something I wanted for myself, so I took it.” He confessed. “And I killed that curse today and had fun doing it.”

Taking your hands in his, he cradled them as though he planned on drinking them.

“You’re right. I am a sadist.” He sighed, giving a small breathless laugh. “It feels good to know that I can do whatever I want whenever I want to whoever I want. And it feels good to know that no one can stop me.”

Finally, he raised his chin and looked back at you – those eyes of his intense with something raw – something desperate.

“I don’t care about anything. So many things could happen outside these four walls and it wouldn’t matter. I’d still be Gojo Satoru and you’d still be mine.”

A tiny gasp slipped through your lips, but other than that, you couldn't move – compelled to keep his gaze – spellbound to their deep light.

“But the one thing I can’t do is make someone feel the way I want them to…” He continued, still with his voice soft. “And even though you don’t have a choice, I’m still selfish enough to wish that you’d want to stay with me. Forever.”

He gave your hands a squeeze.

“And most selfishly…” He leaned in, his face kissing yours softly, brow to brow, cheek to cheek, and nose to nose – lips ghosting as your mouths breathed in each other's air. “I want you to love me.”

Your breath shook. Eyes downcast, brows trembling, and he’d say you almost looked scared, weren’t it for how hard you gripped his hands in return – making indents in his skin with your nails as though anchoring yourself.

“Curses can’t love.” You tried excusing, but your voice was weak and he wouldn’t have it.

“I don’t believe that,” He rejected – and looking right through it, he knew you didn’t believe it either. 

Then he chuckled.

“After all… I’m the worst curse of all, and I love you.”

P1 & P2

[sasquatchgang]

I have so many thoughts on Andor. But one of the most impactful things from this show was Nemik. I love that they had him read his manifesto over the last few frames of season 2 even though his character died in season 1. He had a small role in a growing and disjointed rebellion- he was so passionate about it and wrote what I’m assuming to be a fairly long meditation on how unnatural fascism and authoritarianism is, and he recorded himself reading it. I love that we find out this made its rounds through the galaxy right before the end of the show- being listened to by an ISB officer- and I do have a larger point here.

My headcanon is now that Luke heard Nemik’s manifesto in his own voice over the radio, and started to notice things- maybe even things he never questioned before about his life and the oppressive presence of the empire everywhere, and just like any teenager- wanted to do something about it. He was so excited when he found out C-3PO and R2 had been involved with the rebellion he jumps up in awe. “You know of the rebellion against The Empire?!” He never even for a second questioned aligning himself with the rebels.

And of course, without Andor- this all makes perfect sense. I just love the way we now can see the heroes in the shadows and how they influenced Luke FUCKING Skywalker- and helped bring an end to the constant oppression of Palptine.

There are so many beautiful things about this show but I really loved Nemik and I’m so glad they made him a bigger piece of the puzzle. “Rebellions are built on hope” being said by a bellhop to Andor just drives Nemik’s point home. “I burn my life for a sunrise I’ll never see.” So many people sacrificed everything. Life, love, happiness, to do what’s right. I could go on but if you haven’t already, please read Nemik’s manifesto. His character’s words are more relevant than ever, to the entire world. Everybody has a part to play. No act of rebellion is too small. Protect your fellow humans. Trans rights are human rights. Black lives matter. Healthcare, housing, food, and shelter are not luxuries. FUCK THE POLICE. LIE TO ICE. FREE PALESTINE.

NEMIK’S MANIFESTO

There will be times when the struggle seems impossible. I know this already. Alone, unsure, dwarfed by the scale of the enemy.

Remember this, Freedom is a pure idea. It occurs spontaneously and without instruction. Random acts of insurrection are occurring constantly throughout the galaxy. There are whole armies, battalions that have no idea that they’ve already enlisted in the cause.

Remember that the frontier of the Rebellion is everywhere. And even the smallest act of insurrection pushes our lines forward.

And remember this: the Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear.

Remember that. And know this, the day will come when all these skirmishes and battles, these moments of defiance will have flooded the banks of the Empires’s authority and then there will be one too many. One single thing will break the siege.

Remember this: Try.

[jinxfixeseverything]

13/26 Firelights (Chapter 13)

Notes and disclaimers: Story is JINX/FEMALE READER. Most chapters contain SMUT and or FLUFF, there is LIGHT ANGST in a few.

Important notes: Reader refers to Jinx often as Pj, for a term of endearment and rare but occasional reference to Jinx as Powder, by the people closest to her, as this is set after her redemption arc she does not mind it used in context!! But still prefers and continues to go by Jinx. She is mainly referred to as Jinx in the story and by the characters in it, don’t worry! Jinx is canonically bisexual in this story. I do not own any of these characters, I just play with them. 

Warning: Story will contain VERY graphic depictions of WLW, main coupling will consist of two switches to keep everyone happy. I’ll shut up now and I really hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulling Jinx by the oversized coat dwarfing her, you push the door closed behind her, dragging her to the bed as she laughs and trips along the way. You push her down onto the bed pulling your sweater over your head. Jinx’s eyes are filled with hunger and lust and she makes no attempt to undress, more interested in watching you. “Get naked, now.” You tell her, snapping her out of her hyper focus.

“I wanna watch you, don’t spoil my fun!” She croaked out petulantly in her raspy voice.

You take a step forward to her, she instinctively places her hands on your hips. Running them up to your waist.

You touch her face softly, “Are you ever going to do as you’re told, just once?” You ask, stroking her cheek.

“Jana sakes!” She pouted. “Fine!” She sulked pulling off the large coat, balling it up and throwing it across the room. “Happy?” She asks. “Such a brat.” You tell her bending down to kiss her. She undoes your pants. “Get the cock.” She tells you excitedly. “I want you balls deep.” She chuckles throatily at your facial expression as the sentence hit you between the legs.

“It doesn’t have balls.” You laughed.

“It’s an expression, Doll Face.” She said dryly, raising an eyebrow and fidgeting with the rope belt. Then helping you pull off your chest bandage.

She begins kissing your stomach, leaving little nips all over. You feel spasms inside with each bite. Breaking apart you swallow hard and both pull off your boots, pants and underwear.

Jinx pulls off her borrowed t shirt and flings it into your face, laughing. You shake your head and laugh. Then go to your nap sack for the harness

“Hurry up!” She calls, as you step into it, the cock already attached. “Get over here.” Jinx beckons you in a sultry tone. You walk over to the bed and she tugs you down to lay on your back. She resumes placing kisses and lightly biting your stomach. Taking hold of the cock.

Jinx looks you dead in the eyes, saying “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you’ll wanna leave Bilgewater early every time you think about it.” She smiled wickedly, her eyes burning purple. She opens her lips to take the cock in her mouth when a loud bang on the door makes you both jump out of your skin.

“Hey guys, it’s Ekko. I was just wondering what you guys wanted for breakfast.” Ekko called out, stifling a laugh. “Ekko! Seriously?!” Jinx yelled over her shoulder.

“Maybe eggs?” Ekko asks innocently. Jinx looked at you, her eyes blazing with annoyance.

“That’s fine Ekko!” You call out to try and get rid of him. Jinx looks like she wants to kill him.

You both wait a moment. Jinx clearly irritated, lowers her head towards the cock again. You place your hands behind your head to watch her, sighing deeply, this was gonna be good. “But what kind, guys?” Ekko calls out.

“Fuck off, Ekko!!” Jinx yells out, picking up her boot from the floor and throwing it at the door, making a loud bang.

“Ok! My bad, carry on.” He said walking off, glee in his voice, thinking it was hilarious that he got the reaction he wanted. You heard Cait’s muffled voice downstairs say. “I told you! That was poor form guys. Leave them be.” Ekko and Scar were laughing their heads off but apologised to Cait. “Pay backs are gonna be a bitch, guys. That girl knows how to hold a grudge.” Vi said in a warning tone.

“Fuck!!” Jinx said, getting up in a huff and sitting at the end of the bed. “Babe, it’s ok. They just goofing around, don’t let it get to you. Come back.” You say crawling behind her placing a kiss on her shoulder.

“I’m tired of always being the butt of their jokes. Mood officially ruined. Fucking cock blockers.” She huffed, resting her elbows on her thigh, her body language thoroughly dejected.

“Well, while they are down there, with nothing better to do.” You say and kiss her shoulder again. “We’re up here, together.” another kiss on her shoulder, “About to have incredible sex.” You say.

Slowly you feel the tension leaving her body with each kiss along her shoulder. You kneel behind her, pulling her back to the bed. Kneeling she faces you. You place your hands on her back and firmly press her naked body to yours as you kiss her passionately. “Turn around.” You say softly against her lips.

“Huh?” She responds, as if she didn’t hear you. Opening her eyes, they looked hazy as if she was drunk from being kissed. Jinx’s chest rising and falling with each laboured breath. Her eyes faintly glowing purple.

You guide her away from you to turn her around. Still kneeling on the bed. You stroke your hands all over her, revelling in the feeling of her body responding to your touch and the way she was breathing.

“Mood still ruined?” You ask, close to her skin.

“Nup.” She breathes out.

You move a braid off her shoulder and begin to kiss her neck. You run a hand over her butt, down to her thighs to nudge her legs wider apart. You press your body against her back, the cock pressing on her butt. You continue kissing her neck.

“Fuck.” She breathes out.

You reach between you both for the cock, bending your knees a little to enter her pussy from behind, both still kneeling on the bed and pressed together.

Jinx reaches behind to place her hand on the back of your head as you kiss along her neck and shoulder. Her breathing steady, you reach in front of her and stroke one of her breasts, rolling the nipple against your palm, while the other hand holds her hip. She keeps one hand in place on the back of your head and places her other hand on top of yours at her hip.

You slowly start to move the cock inside her. Only managing a few inches at this angle. You stay pressed together a little longer, teasing her by barely moving, the cock only part way in her, shifting slightly with your hips. Her butt pressing back on to you. “Fucking tease.” She breathes over her shoulder to you.

“You still want it balls deep?” You joke, reaching to peck her lips over her shoulder.

“Mm hmm.” She nodded breathlessly. You began sliding the hand on her hip to her clit, rubbing her and teasing her clit slowly, feeling her get wetter, she places her hand on top of yours, urging you to press harder, until she can’t take it any longer. “For fuck sake, you’re driving me nuts!” She complained, raising her voice. Pulling away from you and diving down on to the bed. You smirk with triumph, seeing her cave so desperately, the earlier interruption completely forgotten about. You pick her legs up by the back of her knees. “Whoa!” She cried at the sudden manhandling as you dragged her to you, pulling her down the bed. Then throw her calves to rest on your shoulders. She weighed practically nothing, so it was always easy to lift her whenever you wanted.

You grabbed the cock, rubbing the tip up down her slit, prolonging her agony. Smirking at her as she looked you in the eye, you see her jaw tensing, she wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of asking, you press the cock against her opening, entering her slick pussy with no resistance, she was always soaking.

You began to pull the cock in and out of her with your hips, you held her hips steady and she reached to hold the tops of your hands. “About time.” She panted, telling you off.

“Quit bitchin’ or I’ll pull out.” You scold her, moving a hand to press her thigh against your body, keeping her in place as the other held her hip deftly. “Fucking dare.” She said with menace. Gripping your thighs below her, as if that could keep you there. “You haven’t seen me all day and that’s all you got for me? I can barely feel you.” She taunted, trying to gain some semblance of an upper hand. You began thrusting harder but keeping a slow pace. An exuberant slapping sound came from between you on each deep thrust. Jinx moaned loudly. You start to pick up pace, going harder, pounding her. “Uh! Fuck! Fuck! Mother fucker!” She cried loudly, as you rammed her hard. You worried that everyone would hear, she was being so loud. 

“Balls deep yet?” You ask her trying to keep your voice even.

“Shut up.” She said, smacking your thigh.

That made you laugh. “Just giving you want you asked for, Honey.” You gloated. She had nothing to say. Just dropped her arms to the mattress gripping the sheets and arching her back. As if all the cockiness was being fucked out of her.

Jinx continued moaning loudly “Oh my Ga… Fuck!” As you didn’t let up. Your hips ramming her relentlessly. Pounding her senseless as she as she gasped and moaning each time you filled her up. She started to grip at your thighs again, her nails digging painfully into your skin. Jinx’s orgasm was intense and exploded from deep within her, loudly screaming out your name, her voice hoarse, as you fucked her hard.

Hearing her cum so loudly as she said your name pushed you over the edge. Cumming hard yourself, gasping for breath as you fucked her and continued to fuck her, slowly. Long after you came, just to prolong the after shocks you were feeling. Jinx lay there, partly lifted by you holding firmly on to her hips. Her eyes closed, biting her lip as you used her pussy to draw out how good she made you feel. Stroking your thigh as she let you, enjoying the cock slowly being pushed into her, it’s wasn’t about cumming again, it was the intimacy of it she craved, the surrendering but also the control she had. Knowing how turned on she got you, even after you came you still couldn’t stop yourself. You could never get enough of being inside her and that thought made her stomach flip. You were just as hooked on her as she was on you. Jinx thought smugly to herself, she really was like shimmer to you, like you’d once told her. She was your addiction.  After a long while you regretfully pull out of her pussy, the wetness making an obscenely lewd sound. Jinx missed the contact instantly, she didn’t want you to stop. Your throat was way too dry, you had to. “I need to get a drink. You want one?” you ask, placing her butt down on to the bed.

“Mmm” was all she could manage to say, her eyes still closed. You lent over her a kissed her. “Careful.” She warned. Making you laugh.

“I don’t think I have the energy.” You tell her meekly. Your arms feeling weak and shaky.

“You’ll find it from somewhere, you always do.” She said placing her hands on her stomach and lightly running her fingers tips over her abdomen.

She looked almost angelic, lying on the bed, completely spent and thoroughly satisfied. She did a small contented stretch, making a little mewling sound. She was right, you would absolutely go again. You were on fire for her at even the slightest, unintentionally sexy thing she did. You watch her for just a few seconds longer, drinking in how beautiful she looked in the soft glowing lamplight. Her cheeks flushed an unusual pink, she looked relaxed and quite serene. You smile to yourself remembering the night you met at the bar and how you planned to hook up for a one off. Now look at you both. You can never get enough of each other. Tearing your eyes away from her to stop yourself crawling on top of her again. You unattached the cock and grab Ekko’s discarded t shirt from the floor. Throwing it on, it was long enough to cover everything you wanted covered. You poked your head out the door, everyone at the Firelights base had gone to bed, the campfire was just embers and looked long abandoned, which made you slightly relieved. No one was outside to hear how loud you two had been, but meaning everyone had gone to bed, the music was off, so on second thoughts maybe that was worse. There was nothing to drown it out. You internally cringe, looking around at the other windows and dismiss the thought, hoping that wasn’t the case. Hurrying down the wooden stairs you grab two bottled drinks from the table and run back up to Jinx.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Prompt: 25.“If I’m being mean to someone, I’m probably flirting.” “Is that why you’re always mean to (character)?”

Charachter: Tolkien - Boromir

The only note I leave you is that the companion for Boromir is a woman, then if human or of a different race I leave it to your imagination to decide 😊

Thanks in advance even just for the attention and compliments for all the stories you always give us, I adore you and your writings 😍 sending hugs 🤗

Teasing As Flirting- Boromir x Elf!Reader

A/N: Thank you for the love! Tiny bit of Gigolas in here too. Italics is in elvish

“If I’m being mean to someone, I’m probably flirting,” you spoke with your friend Legolas, as you sit together on a large rock, watching the other members of the fellowship enjoy a nice break.

“Is that why you’re always mean to Boromir?” Your friend asks with a teasing and knowing smirk.

Turning to him with a shocked expression you slap him across the chest playfully.

“Is it a similar reasoning as to why you’re so mean to Gimli? Yes, see, two can play at that game, my old friend. Besides, I’m not being mean to him, I’m being honest. He does smell and he does need to control his movements with his blade more.” You try to defend your obvious crush to your oldest friend.

“Hmm, I must be confused with another friend of mine, but I remember you once telling me that you found the smell on men interesting, and not as appalling as others complained. And I know you well enough, old friend, to know that you recognising how he handles his blade means that you’ve been watching him rather closely.” Legolas challenges you, as his knowing smile grows

“Shut up, Legolas. You take a chance with the dwarf and I’ll take a chance with the human. Huh, what a pair we are.” You half laugh, and half scoff to yourself as you walk to check on the halflings and Boromir.

Boromir immediately notices your approach and stops helping the halflings. Walking over to you, he has his usual sweet smile on his face that seems to radiate sunshine, and you try your best not to let it affect you too outwardly.

“You know when you talk that elvish language it does sound beautiful, but I often wonder what you say.” Boromir compliments; both his words and the way he says them making you swoon internally.

“Maybe you should learn then, you stupid man,” comes your insult, that is definitely not flirting.

“Well maybe a certain beautiful elf maiden should teach me,” he continues to flirt, his grin widening and his compliment is followed by a cheeky wink.

“If only there were one around who’d have the patience,” you retort with a sly smirk.

You hand lightly touch his shoulder and down his arm as you pass him and make your way to the little ones.

Definitely not flirting.

[oldangryslytherin]

fanfic request: Tom asks Harry out for Valentine's via one of lockharts dwarfs and Harry beats the shit out of the dwarf bc it startled him or smth. Or maybe he beats up Tom. Or both! I just really want Harry beating people up recently.

Thx and have a nice day!

It had been a day of dodging, ducking, and weaving. Harry Potter had spent the better part of Valentine’s Day avoiding Lockhart’s blasted dwarves. He knew some of the girls in Huflepuffhad sent him cards and singing telegrams. The idea of being serenaded in the middle of the Great Hall was mortifying.

“They’re just trying to show you they care,” Hermione said as the trio made their way through the corridor after lunch.

“Yeah, well, I’d care more if they didn’t involve murderous dwarves in the process,” Harry muttered, glancing over his shoulder for any signs of small, bearded ambushers.

Ron snorted. “They’re not murderous, mate.”

Harry was about to retort when it happened. From seemingly nowhere, a dwarf came hurtling down from a ledge above them, landing squarely in Harry’s path with a loud “thwa-thump!” Before Harry could process what was happening, the dwarf lunged toward him, clutching a scroll of parchment.

Instinct took over. With a startled yell, Harry’s fist shot out, connecting with the dwarf’s stout nose. The poor creature dropped like a sack of potatoes, the scroll slipping from its grasp as it crumpled to the floor.

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked, her hands flying to her mouth.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” Ron exclaimed, crouching to check on the unconscious dwarf.

“It jumped me!” Harry protested, his cheeks burning. “How was I supposed to know it wasn’t attacking me?”

“It’s a dwarf, Harry! For delivering Valentine’s messages!” Hermione scolded, already conjuring a soft pillow to prop under the dwarf’s head.

Students had started to gather, drawn by the commotion. Harry’s embarrassment grew as he heard the murmurs and snickers spreading through the crowd.

“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” Harry grumbled, bending down to retrieve the scroll. “But it shouldn’t have jumped out at me like that. I was—” He paused, unrolling the parchment and catching sight of the handwriting. It was elegant, looping, and… familiar.

The note read:

I’ve seen your soul, raw and untamed. It belongs to someone who can match its flame. Your green eyes, the last color I see before sleep, Haunt me, stirring dreams dark and deep. Let me show you a world you’ve never known, With you, Potter, I’ll build a kingdom for us.

Harry’s face went from pink to crimson. His hands clenched the parchment as his heart hammered in his chest. The words were so blatantly pretentious, so maddeningly confident, and yet… he couldn’t deny the flutter of something in his chest.

“What does it say?” Ron asked, craning his neck to peek at the note.

“Nothing,” Harry snapped, crumpling the parchment in his hand.

“Nothing? You’re blushing,” Hermione said, her tone accusatory. “Who sent it?”

“I don’t know,” Harry lied, though he had a sinking suspicion. The phrasing, the audacity—it could only be Tom Riddle. He’d caught the younger Slytherin watching him during practice more than once, a smirk playing on his lips like he knew something Harry didn’t.

“Whoever it is, they’ve got guts,” Ron said, grinning. “Asking you out through one of Lockhart’s dwarves? Bold move.”

“Yeah, well, next time they can send a bloody owl,” Harry muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. But even as he spoke, he couldn’t shake the heat rising to his cheeks or the way his stomach fluttered at the thought of Riddle’s intense gaze and self-assured smirk.

“Poor dwarf,” Hermione said, shaking her head as the creature stirred. “You really need to work on your anger issues, Harry.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” he replied dryly, stuffing the crumpled note into his pocket.

------

Harry found Tom Riddle in the study hall. The Slytherin was seated at a table near the back, seemingly engrossed in a thick tome. His dark hair fell perfectly into place, his posture relaxed yet exuding an air of control. As if he’d been expecting Harry, his gaze lifted the moment Harry stormed in, parchment in hand.

Harry slammed the crumpled scroll down onto the table, causing a few nearby students to look over in alarm. Tom didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his lips curving into a slow, infuriatingly charming smirk.

“Something on your mind, Potter?” he drawled, his voice smooth and unbothered.

“What the hell is this?” Harry demanded, jabbing a finger at the parchment. “If you wanted to ask me out, you could have done it like a normal person instead of sending—sending dwarves after me!”

Tom’s smirk widened as he stood, closing the distance between them with deliberate, unhurried steps. “And miss the opportunity to see you this flustered? Where would be the fun in that?”

Harry opened his mouth to retort but found himself at a loss for words. Tom’s confidence was maddening, and the way he was looking at him—like he was the only person in the room—was making his heart race.

“You’re unbelievable,” Harry muttered, crossing his arms. “What if I’d said no?”

“Oh, I was fairly certain you wouldn’t,” Tom replied, his tone light but his gaze piercing. “But I’ll admit, I did wonder how far I could push you before you snapped.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed a deeper red. “You’re a dick.”

Tom’s smirk softened into something more genuine, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “And yet, here you are.”

Harry stared at him, his resolve faltering under the intensity of Tom’s gaze. Finally, he muttered, “Fine. I’ll go out with you. Happy?”

Tom’s smile widened. “Ecstatic.” He reached out, gently taking Harry’s hand in his own. Before Harry could protest, Tom leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss to his knuckles.

“I’ll pick you up from the Gryffindor Tower later,” he said, his voice brimming with quiet confidence. With that, he turned and strode out of the study hall, leaving Harry standing there, red-faced.

-

that was fun! now im going to bed it required all my braincells :3 ill post to ao3 in the morning

[lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe]

Chapter 6 [IKYLHT]

~2.5k Words | Series Masterlist | Prev | Next Chapter [Coming Soon]

-

Brushing the last of the water droplets off your arm, you fling the remnants of your shower towards the sleeping giants you call your partners.

“Johnny, Simon.”

The men peak their eyes open, letting out a hum of acknowledgement.

“I’m done showering. Up up, let’s go.”

You move to slip on your boots, lacing up as Soap complains.

“C’mon, Bun. We’ve got plenty of time. Lay down for a bit.”

He reaches his arms out, making grabby hands and scooting towards the far edge of the bed.

Ghost pats the space in the middle, shifting over as best he can on the mattress. Their bodies dwarf the bed in comparison.

“We’re not gonna fit, Johnny.” You laugh out, hands measuring the gap between the men against the width of your hips. 

“C’mon now, we’re gonna be late. If we miss the flight, Price is sticking us on a commercial flight. You know he won’t pay for upgrades.”

He looks towards the small space, resting his arms over his stomach and giving a small shrug with his signature smile.

“It’ll be fine, I promise.”

“No John! I’m not letting you win this one. We really can’t be late, let’s go.”

Shrugging once more, he sighs out with a semi-smug tone.

“Can’t force ya’ to rest. We’ll take ten more minutes, then.” He rolls over, nuzzling into Simon. 

His statement takes you by surprise, but you don’t think much of it. He’s acting like a cocky little shit, as he tends to do (a blessing and a curse, really) so you give him the benefit of the doubt that he’d been trying to persuade you into napping with them via the ‘calling chicken’ method.

For two soldiers, it was surprisingly effective. Not entirely sure how we still have all ten fingers.

Now normally you’d play along, let him win since it benefits the both of you anyways. But something was just off this morning. Maybe it was the lackluster sleep last night, maybe it was those feelings that carried over being a little more intense than you initially realized. Whatever it was, you didn’t feel like you could just let him win this one. For whatever reason your subconscious had rationalized, this was the hill you’d die on.

“Uhh, Johnny. It's breakfast. We always have breakfast together. Come on, don’t be lazy.” You force out a small laugh. 

He nuzzles a little further into Simon.

“It’s just breakfast, Bun.”

You try to hold the bitterness back as you quietly scoff.

It is just breakfast. 

“Okay. Yeah. Whatever. I’ll just go by myself.”

He hums.

Eyes landing on Simon, you watch his blank stare, both of you completely unmoving. 

You wait for his response- verbal, physical, anything- and huff when you’re met with nothing. 

Fine then.

Practically slamming the door as you stomp out of the room, you turn to walk towards the mess hall but stop no more than three feet into the hallway. 

Looking over your shoulder, you wait.

A few seconds go by.

A few more go by.

Then fifteen.

Then you check the time on your phone, owlishly blink as the number changes.

With a small nod, your eyes shut as you feel the irritation puddle into something akin to grief. 

It’s so much easier being angry, you realize, as you quietly make your way to the mess hall.

Maybe that’s what this is. This new way of being that had suddenly taken hold. 

You’d been angry before- at your parents and their cruelty, at your teachers and their negligence, at the military recruiters, at Barrow, at Graves, at Shepherd, at yourself. 

But this wasn’t anger anymore. This was something else entirely- something that smelled like Santiago’s cologne, something that tasted like his chapstick, something that looked like his empty casket.

It’s dramatic, and you realize that, but you can’t help but feel it.

Something was happening. Maybe it was Johnny’s close-call with Hassan, maybe it was your separation in Las Almas- whatever it was, you couldn’t help but feel cursed.

You’d sworn off having a partner, not to mention one in the military or even worse, on your team.

You’d already felt that pain once. Discovered what it was like to witness your spouse taken from you right before your eyes, all under your command. To watch your comrades, your friends carry his body for miles and miles as you tried to muffle your breakdown, only to leave all six of them in the desert.

I couldn’t carry them all.

Now you’re in the same situation, you’re losing him all over again and he’s not even dead. 

He’s a hall’s length away, napping with a man you so eagerly roped in, a man that was so quick to embrace the two of you in a way you so desperately needed.

He could give the two of you the lives you’d always wanted, he could give you all he has to give.

He could give Johnny everything, something you simultaneously love and absolutely despise him for.

He understands Johnny. Understands him in every way you do and every way you never will. 

You push around the food on your tray until it’s practically inedible, picturing the two men peacefully sleeping in your room as you force away the last realization your mind conjures up.

For the first time since Santiago’s death, you were sitting in the mess hall, alone.

-

Staring at the blinking cursor, you rack your brain on what to reply. The small group chat was mostly empty, save for a few grocery requests, as the three of you almost always communicated in-person or over comms. 

Suds: where’d you go bunny? weren’t in the mess

05:16

Fantasma: 0700 flight. See you on the tarmac.

05:58

Sighing out, you switch from the chat you’d left unanswered for quite some time now, opening the group made specifically for 141-UK. 

Captain Price: CRAF, 0735. Tarmac by 0700. See you soon.

06:00

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick: See ya soon Cap

06:07

Suds: rog :p

06:12

Simon was with Price, evidenced by the flight information being sent at nearly the same time. That meant he wasn’t with Johnny, which meant you wouldn’t have a way to bail yourself out of a conversation with Soap if you ran into him. 

You just weren’t ready- and if there’s one thing good ol’ military therapy ever taught you, it was that you didn’t always have to do things on other people’s timelines.

You type back a quick ‘Affirm’ and slide your phone back into your pocket, watching as the sun begins to splay its golden rays over the outdoor training grounds. 

It’s almost refreshing. Brings you back to simpler times. 

If Johnny was here you’d already be telling him some story from way back in basic, all the shit you’d endured throughout training alongside the small group of friends you’d made early on into Pendleton.

But he’s not here. 

Truthfully, you don’t know where he is. You hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out. You could’ve gone back. Could’ve said something, had him fix all your problems the way he always managed to do. Could’ve let him know how you felt.

But as always, just like Santiago would always tell you, you were self sabotaging. Pushing him away so he couldn’t do it first. Making it your choice. 

It’s not like you don’t know what’s happening. You’re aware of it, probably more now than ever before. 

You know, you just can’t stop. 

Pushing off the wall, you begin to make your way from your position near the far edge of base to the barracks, flinging the last of the orange peels in your hand to the birds. You hadn’t skipped breakfast entirely. You’re still a Marine, after all.

Flying CRAF was always shit- being sardined into cramped seats with a hundred other soldiers awaiting their next orders.

It provided one major upside today, though. 

A chance to work through your thoughts in peace. 

Well… relative peace. He still has to know he fucked up.

Walking back to your room, head held a little higher than before, you knock and unlock the door once more.

This time when you’re greeted with silence, it’s due to their lack of presence. Johnny’s duffle sits on the bed next to yours.

He’s either showering in his accomodation or grabbing a quick breakfast, so you take the opportunity you’ve been given.

Slinging both duffles over each shoulder, you make your way to the tarmac where Price and Gaz stand watching the other soldiers board.

“Captain, Gaz. Good morning.”

Lifting a shoulder and gesturing towards Johnny’s bag, you never cease walking as you continue your small talk, effectively forcing the two into following you onto the aircraft.

Gaz a tad more eager to jump into conversation than Price, he happily chats on with ease as you make your way down the aisle.

The seats are in 2-4-2 formation, and you make a point to set Johnny’s bag- fit with Union Jack and Saltire patches- in the window spot of the two seater in your desired row. 

Gesturing to the four seats on the other side of the aisle, you turn back to Gaz.

“Is here good?”

“Wherever’s fine by me. Cap?” He turns, asking the older man.

“Go ahead.” Price gestures towards the seats with a small shrug.

Gaz puts a foot forward but you slide in front of him before he gets the chance, moving down to the third seat and allowing Gaz, Price, the aisle, then Ghost to fill the space between you and Johnny.

That’ll do.

The seat to your right is empty, and you quietly pray to some higher power it remains that way.

Sliding your duffle under the seat, you turn to Gaz with a smile.

“That’s perfect. I prefer the middle section.”

It’s a half truth, one you don’t feel bad about telling.

You don’t let him get a word in, tapping the book in his hand with your newly regulation-approved painted nails. 

“Whatchya reading, Sarge?”

He flips over the book with a small shrug, scanning his eyes over the synopsis before handing it over with that boyish grin he so often sports. 

“Haven’t looked, to be honest. Mom mentioned she meant to pick up a copy. Figured I’d drop by home before heading back to base.”

“You visit her a lot?”

“Whenever I’ve got the chance, really.” 

You hear him before you see him, Johnny coming down the aisle clear as day in your peripherals. 

You smile back at Gaz, tilt your head a little closer to his.

“The missus isn’t too happy at that, then?”

A light blush dusting over his cheeks, he’s glancing at Johnny, then down at his lap- shaking his head with a bright smile and a small laugh- before letting his charm override his shyness.

“No misses to upset, ma’am.”

“Still just Rabbit, Gaz.”

Catching Johnny’s eye, you smile and give a single nod before angling your body slightly away from him and opening the book Gaz had handed you. 

Your eyes scan the words but they don’t process in your mind, too busy focusing on your peripherals again. 

You see Johnny turn his head, gaze falling on his duffle sitting on the far window chair. You see the way he looks back at you in confusion. Whether he connects the dots or not- it seemed as though he was more confused at what was happening than why- he begins putting his duffle in the overhead, turning to Ghost and gesturing for his. 

Braving a look at Simon, you rake your eyes over his form.

Damn, he looks good. 

He’s wearing a black medical face mask, probably showing you more of his face at one time than you’d ever seen before.

Johnny may have looked him dead in the eye in Las Almas, but you’d chosen to grant the man some semblance of privacy and look away. 

Mentally you piece together the top and bottom portions of his face- try your best to commit it to memory while reminding yourself you’re still mad at him.

Well, sorta. 

Johnny scoots into the window seat, almost clipping his head on the luggage compartment he’d just closed, if not for Simon’s hand padding the collision. 

He turns to you and smiles, you see it by the small squint of his eyes and the way his cheeks rise.

You let a smile grace your lips, a real one, spurred on by the simple fact that he’s so good at this. So good with Johnny, so good with you. 

He motions to the seat in front of him, offering it up, but you give a barely noticeable shake of your head and smile once more. 

I know I’m being unfair. You’re doing everything right. It’s not you I’m mad at, I promise. 

I’m sorry, Si. 

You watch the way his eyes travel between Gaz and Price, then back to you, before he nods his head and lowers into the seat.

That’ll be a serious talk later, you can tell by the blank look he quickly adopted, but at least you have eight hours to avoid that conversation.

A small sigh passing your lips, you shut the book and settle your eyes onto your knees. 

“Boy troubles?” He teases with a small smile, raising a brow knowingly. 

You lean forward to glance at Price- who sits legs spread, arms crossed with his boonie hat tilted and covering his face- and reply to Gaz quietly.

“No. No, we’re all good.”

His smile dips, turning a little more into a grimace.

“Yeah, I’m sure he thinks that. Doesn’t seem like you do, Rabbit.”

Your eyes snap back up to his, eyes squinting slightly. You can’t help but feel defensive for both yourself and Johnny, even if he is right.

He puts his hands up in surrender.

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, I just mean-”

“No. No, it’s fine.” You glance up at his side profile and barely murmur out, “It’s just… Is it that obvious?”

His eyes shift from semi-playful to empathetic.

“I mean, listen. I hardly know you. But what I do know is you two are attached at the hip. I do know that I’ve never seen Johnny so smitten over anyone. Whatever’s happening now? Water under the bridge once we’re home. Yeah?”

“Yeah” You murmur, the cogs in the machine that is your brain pulling at top speed. “Can’t get anything past you, now, can I?”

He lets out a quiet laugh, that charming smile back once more. 

“Or Price. He just won’t mention it like I will.”

Your own smile returning, you bump your shoulder with his before scooting yourself down your seat and copying Price’s stature.

Gaz does the same, pulling his cap over his eyes and leaning his head back.

Glancing past him, you look towards your boys once more.

Ghost catches your eyes and tilts his head in question. Johnny’s already half passed out, leaning against his shoulder and slowly nodding off.

You smile at Simon, a real, genuine smile, before turning straight once more and closing your eyes.

Shifting your right leg, you quietly inch your boot closer to your duffle under the seat in front of you. 

Shoulders relaxing, you let out a deep breath, tapping your boot against the blue and white Saltire patch twice.

-

<3

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[curioushappenstance]

fic title: do you like my dress? it's got pockets [chapter 8]

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Summary: 9:19 Dragon – Varric Tethras loses his virginity to a pretty dwarf girl at the bar. 9:41 Dragon - The consequence walks through the gates of Skyhold. - In my childish fantasies, I used to dream of being the Champion; going places, meeting people, loving them and being loved in return, never discarded nor kicked nor beaten; love, in perpetuity, the likes of which a girl under the heavy and forceful hand of a mother could not begin to dream of, because she could not dream at all. - aka, the fic where varric has a daughter that he didn't know about until five minutes ago.

We crept into our quarters with quick quietness, tip-toeing and whispering to not wake Varric, whose mouth was hung open slightly as he slept. Harding climbed into her hammock, but didn’t lie down. Neither did I. After a brief, uncertain silence, she faced me.

“We should tell Varric.”

My hands in my lap clutched each other like lifelines. If she had noticed my trembling, my frantic backwards glances as we sped through the hall, she never mentioned it.

“Maybe it’s nothing,” I said, “maybe it’s just a normal chest.”

Her forehead wrinkled as she frowned. She glanced at Varric, his breaths deep and slow. “I don’t know.”

“And, if it is lyrium, then so what? It can’t get across the sea all on its own.”

“But it was empty.” She tugged on one of her plaits, loosened from sleeping on it. “And there aren’t any templars in Kirkwall anymore.”

No. I had forgotten that. I gathered my blanket into my arms and shivered.

“I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“But––”

“Please.”

She cast one last uncertain glance at Varric’s sleeping frame. Her eyes followed the up and down rise and fall of his chest, and her little frown thinned into a line that said, fine, you win.

-

In the late evening on the second day, the boat stopped. I raced to the deck, hoping to find the Gallows greeting me, but it wasn’t Kirkwall. A looming, dark, abandoned tower, hunched on an island with the setting sun behind it, cast a long, deep shadow over the waves and the ship.

Jainen. I had heard of it, seen it in passing only once. The circle towers were long abandoned, picked over, a shell of what they once were. The Captain lumbered past me, one foot dragging behind him with a harsh limp.

“Why have we stopped?”

I regretted the words as soon as he faced me, his skin shining with a faint feverish sheen of sweat.

“You should stay below deck, dwarf.”

“You––You said you would take us to Kirkwall.”

“Aye. And I will. But for now, you need to stay below.”

I didn’t need telling a third time. Below the deck, near the galley, I found Varric and Harding each hunched over their hands of cards, and they looked up.

“Isana,” Harding said, surprised, while Varric was silent, “are you feeling better?”

I cast a long look up the stairs that led above, then back again, hesitant to meet the curious gazes that waited for me.

“We’ve stopped. Outside Jainen.”

“What?” Varric stood. The chair legs scraped the floor.

“He told me to stay below the deck.”

“He say why?”

“No.”

Harding slipped from her chair, but stagnated next to it, one hand still on the backrest. Varric brushed past me, hooking his crossbow onto his back, and I caught his hand.

“Where are you going?”

He stared at our hands. The leather of his glove clenched slightly, before he pried it gently from my fingers. “I’m just gonna see what’s going on.”

“But what if it’s dangerous?”

“Then he’ll hear from Bianca. Don’t worry. You stay with Harding, I’ll be right back.”

“Varric––”

“Soon. Yeah?”

Harding opened and shut her mouth. We stayed in silence until we could no longer hear his footsteps above our heads, and finally, she looked up at me.

“Do you wanna play?”

The cards were strewn across the table, Varric’s winning hand face-up next to a small pile of coppers.

“I don’t gamble.”

“Right. Sorry.” She sat again, a small breath escaping her as she did. Moments passed. “We should tell him.”

“No. I just––I just want to get to Kirkwall.”

“But he should know.”

We tell Varric about the chest; then what? If the Captain knew that we knew… what would stop him from killing us? Throwing us over? Worse? Drunk men didn’t think. They see a threat, they stab it with a blade or with their dick, whichever was closest. I tugged at my hair, the long plait that sat over my shoulder. My blanket was heavy, like the weight of the world all at once, and if I closed my eyes, it wasn’t my blanket at all, but firm hands, pressing me down until I buckled beneath them.

Opening them again, I found Harding’s brown eyes staring out at me, as honey in the firelight.

“Do you really trust him?” I asked her.

She leaned forward. “Of course. With my life.”

With her life. There was no one I trusted that much. Did I envy her? I supposed I did.

Distant thuds then muffled voices, the Captain’s interspersed between them, sounded somewhere above our heads, too muffled to hear what was said, but just clear enough to distinguish each speaker.

Harding listened. “What are they saying?”

An argument?

“I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

Her fingers caressed a card. She leaned into her chair as thuds, like stacking crates, filled the silence between deep murmurations. Was Varric in there?

“How?” I asked.

“How what?”

“How can you trust him?”

“You don’t?”

I stayed silent. There were no words in this language or the next that could make her understand. 

“Isana,” she began, in a way that curled my gut, “is something going on?”

Everything, always, all at once, and yet nothing at all. That wasn’t what she meant. I flinched from a heavy thump above my head and the harsh curse that came after.

“Isana?” she urged.

“I’m fine, just––”

“You’re not fine.”

No. Of course not. When had I ever been? She stood, careful not to scrape her chair, and crept close to me until she was at an arm’s length.

“Varric’s my friend. But if––”

The door at the top of the stairs swung open. Light spilled into the galley, and with it a tall, sharp shadow that descended on the creaking steps.

“I heard voices,” it said. Harding pulled me into the shadows. “You said you were alone.”

“Aye,” the Captain grumbled from the top of the stairway; he swiped his forehead with a red swatch of fabric. “I am.”

Harding closed us into the pantry as the dark silhouette peered into the room. Darkness was split only by a slither of flickering light in the cracks between the hinges.

“You lying, Captain?”

“You trying to insult me, mage?”

Footsteps searched the room then stopped suddenly. “I suppose you were playing cards on your own, then?”

Hesitance. “Aye.”

“Practise?”

“Am to find a way to beat you somehow.”

“ ‘Aye’.” they mocked. “Elf. You lot can see in the dark. Search there.”

Light, barely perceptible, and quick feet pattered across the floor to the galley and stopped just beyond the threshold of the closed pantry door. Harding gripped my dress the way mother had smothered my mouth when the qunari raided our home.

“I don’t want your slave near my food, mage.”

The Captain was ignored. “Elf?”

A quiet, lilted voice, similar to Iowen’s but not quite the same, rose from behind the barrier of wood. “I don’t see anything.”

“Check inside.”

The handle turned. No room to run, to hide. Was this it? Death at the hands of some mage, stowed away in a smuggler’s pantry? Harding’s arms shielded me. I��d left my daggers in the pack under my hammock. What would’ve been the point? I didn’t even know how to use them.

Two large, watery eyes stared at us through the small gap in the open door.

I had never seen a slave before.

I wasn’t sure how I thought one might be. Chained, bound, on their knees with their faces in their hands, like those statues in the Gallows. She was none of these things, and yet somehow, all of them at once.

“What do you see elf?”

She gazed at us in quiet fascination, huddled, hiding, and pleading with our eyes.

“There’s nothing.” She shut the door, and once again we were in darkness. I melted against Harding, my knees weak beneath me. “It’s empty.”

The Captain’s voice was terse. “Hearing voices, Vint? Are you sure you’re not possessed?”

“You look pale, Marcher. Catch a fever?”

“It’s probably from the stench of your foul robes. Any sacrifices recently?”

“There may be soon, if you don’t watch your tongue. Show me what you wanted to show me, I’m tired of this charade.”

We waited until all was silent, and then waited more. Not until Varric’s voice called out from the darkness did Harding finally throw open the door.

“Varric––”

He raced at us in a blur of movement. “Are you girls okay?”

“I am, but…”

I slid down the wall. “He had a slave.”

Varric knelt in front of me, his face only an outline in front of the hair draped over my eyes like thick curtains. “Who did?”

“The mage. The Tevinter mage.”

“Shit. I knew I saw… I shouldn’t have left.” He stood again, dragging a fist through his hair. “Harding, tell me what you heard.”

Their voices were only murmurs in the back of my mind.

A slave. A real slave. Not a story, not a frightening tale in the Chantry, or from the alienage. She was real, and she was here, on this boat, right now, and she lied, straight to the mage’s face, for us.

“Can we help her?”

They looked down at me, hushed whispers cut off, and suddenly silent.

“I’m sorry, kid. There’s not much we can do.”

Kid. There it always was again. How many times did I need to say it? Why did I even have to?

“But you have your crossbow.”

“There’s at least six of ‘em up there with staffs. Not even Bianca can handle that many mages on her own.

“Harding?”

She shook her head. I bit my tongue. Where was she now? Still on the deck? Already gone, stuck on that island, or on another boat to be carted back to Tevinter?

Neither of them stopped me from racing out of the room. I didn’t care where I was going, what direction I sped in, I needed to be alone.

Tevinters in the Free Marches. Slavers in the Free Marches. All those years and all that talk about how it was an Imperium problem, and here, under the real Divine, we would never keep slaves. Now look at us, a dead Divine, the world torn apart, and a Starkhaven traitor working alongside the very people we were sworn against since birth.

Why?

I shoved into a darkened room, some kind of infirmary, hidden away in a small part of the ship. I wiped my eyes and looked up. From the floor, the Captain’s round eyes stared back from the darkness.

My breath stalled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

Deep red veins stretched like webs under the skin of his outstretched leg, spindly and gaunt and distended from the muscle, where if you dared to look close enough, it almost seemed to pulse. On the sole of his foot, there was a wound, healed and scabbed, but scarred with thick, white tissue that mangled the skin of his heel.

His feverish glare bore into my skull.

“You’re Blighted,” I whispered.

He bunched dirty and discarded bandages into a loose ball in his fist. His silence was his answer, which I took as a chance to flee, but as I stepped one foot out the door, he spoke.

“The dwarven Carta wants an example made of you and your father.”

I clutched the doorframe with my back still turned.

“Aye,” he said, “I know who you are. I don’t work with them, but my friends do. You’ll want to run far away from Kirkwall.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’m warning you.”

I ducked my head, and ran. And in my quarters, curled into my hammock, I sketched the elf girl’s soft, sad face until my wrist burned.

-

Seagulls woke me in the early morning, when the sky was a shade of pink outside the window, and Varric and Harding whispered in the corner of the room. As I sat, their whispers stopped, and steadily Varric crept toward me.

“Hey,” he murmured, with the nervous tone of a man with a lot more to say than ‘hey’, but was scared to say it.

I rubbed at my eyes. “Hi.”

He shifted weight from foot to foot. “Get dressed quickly. We’re gonna row one of those small boats to the Gallows. Okay?”

I blinked blearily up at him. “Why?”

He dragged a fist through the loose hair over his shoulders. Having not shaved since Jader, his stubble was dark, ragged, and made his eyes look even more tired than they already did. The breath he let out through his nose was slow and measured.

“Captain died in the night.”

A coldness like falling through the cracks in a frozen lake suddenly engulfed me.

Dead? But he was just…

Varric dropped my pack in my arms. “Get dressed. We’ll leave in a minute.”

He left. I dropped my pack to the floor again and hurried to where Harding folded and embroidered shirt into her pack.

“Is he telling the truth?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“I don’t know.” I knelt next to her. “I don’t know.”

Harding could have told me she’d aged five years since I saw her the previous night, and I would have believed her. She took out a shirt, unfolded it, folded it again, and put it back. 

“I found the body,” she said. “Heard a crash. Went to see what it was.” She withdrew. “I’ve seen corpses before. We’re in a war, I’ve hurt people. I don’t know why I’m…” Shaking, she tied up the pack and roped it over her shoulder, then her bow over her chest and her quiver to her back.

“You saw his body?”

“Yes.”

“Then you saw his skin?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know he was Blighted.”

She glanced around the room, then peered under the cracks in the door. When she spoke again, it was with a whisper.

“I don’t think it was Blight.”

I leaned back onto my heels. “What do you mean?”

“When you’re with the Inquisition, you see a lot of weird things. I got to thinking you were right, that we shouldn’t worry about the lyrium. But when I found his body, he had crystals growing out of his skin.”

“Lyrium doesn’t do that.”

“No, but it was red. It was red lyrium.”

Lyrium wasn’t red. Why would it be? What could make it be? But Harding’s eyes were earnest, and afraid, and maybe Varric was a liar, but she never was.

“So… so what does that mean?”

She bit her bottom lip. “It means we need to tell Varric.”

“No…”

“He deserves to know.”

“No!”

It was too late now. A man was dead. We couldn’t change it, or fix it. Telling Varric wouldn’t bring the Captain back to life, and the thought of being sidetracked now, when we had come so close, made me nauseous.

“Isana,” Harding breathed, exasperated. Her judgement made my skin crawl, but in the spirit of my mother, and all the stubborn mothers before her, I didn’t budge.

“Let’s wait.”

“Wait?”

“We can tell him later. When we’re finished in Kirkwall. Right?”

Her frown deepened. “I don’t know.”

“Just until we’re done. And then we can talk about it. It’ll be fine.”

She stared at her hands. “You want me to lie to my friend.”

“It’s not lying. We will tell him.”

She closed her eyes, sighed, and nodded.

-

The ship faded into the fog like a dull memory as we coasted over the steady waves that led up to the Gallows. We were quiet passing between The Twins, the oars breaking the water and Varric’s heavy breathing as he rowed, the only sounds that intercepted the silence.

The Gallows themselves were still. Abandoned, ghostly, like a graveyard, and in a way, it was. We stood back while Varric explained what had happened to the Guardsmen still stationed there, and then ushered us through to the other side where we were boated to the Lowtown docks.

The first breath back on Kirkwall stone was the deepest of my life. The smoke, the smog, the salt of the ocean in the air as the waves hit the docks. Warehouses and chimneys towered over the boats in the water, and though the sun was barely in the sky, merchants, ship crew, and fishermen bustled around us on their daily march life.

Varric stepped up next to me and took the same deep breath I had, in through his nose and out through pursed lips.

“Why’d I ever leave?” he mused aloud to himself, then cleared his throat and shook his head. “Okay. I’ve got some business to look into in Hightown, but I can check you two into The Hanged Man before I head out.”

“The tavern?” Harding asked, breaking her long, thoughtful silence.

“Probably best to keep us all close, since… yeah.”

I felt weightless, navigating the streets again. Harding perked up the further we trekked inward, her head swivelling like a bird to catch a glimpse of everything we passed as we passed it.

(“It’s not that interesting.”

“It is if you only ever get to scout out trees and sand.”

“But you’ve seen cities. We just left Jader.”

“I don’t know. It’s just different.”)

She was near skipping when we approached The Hanged Man, and as she and Varric went inside, I hesitated on the precipice.

“Coming?”

The last time I was here, I ran away with Hawke’s blanket, the very one wrapped around my shoulders now. It was so long ago, and yet I remembered every thought and sensation as though it happened only moments ago, and with Varric’s furrowed brow staring back from the door, it flooded me.

“I need a minute,” I managed.

“Sure. We’ll be inside.”

The door closed. I was alone on the street, a silly little girl in a red dress and bloodstained chemise. If I ran, I could end this bullshit now and go back to living my normal life.

But it wouldn’t be normal, would it?

I smoothed down my dress, my hair, and pushed in to the tavern.

-

Not much had changed, since last I’d seen it.

Stepping under the threshold held an air of strange familiarity, amidst the smell of alcohol, smoke, sick, and faintly, piss. We didn’t linger long in the bar, and had porridge delivered to Varric’s suite at the top of the stairs, where it was cleaner and quieter, and where I could stare at his dwarven decorations.

Somewhere between stepping off the boat and arriving at the tavern, I’d lost my appetite. My bowl was still mostly full by the time Varric and Harding were finished.

He stood and stacked their bowls.

“I’m gonna head out. If anyone comes knocking, don’t let ‘em in, they’re probably Guild.”

I tore my gaze away from a stone-carved mosaic on the wall. “Where are you going?”

“Hightown. Some stuff I gotta look into. It’s not important.”

“Oh.”

“You can come with, if you want.” His boots shifted on the stone tile. “You want to?”

I shook my head.

“Right. Well, don’t throw any parties while I’m gone.”

Harding watched him leave with her arms on the table. When he was gone, she rested her chin on top of them and closed her eyes. The excitement had caught up with her.

I pushed the porridge around with my spoon, then finally deciding I didn’t want to finish it, stood from my seat. “I’m going to change. Don’t look.”

“Why?”

“I’m going out.”

“Oh.” Even with her back turned, I could feel her frown. “Why?”

“A couple places I need to visit.”

“Shouldn’t you wait for Varric?”

“I’ll be fine.”

I shucked off the layers of my dress and replaced them with my trousers. I couldn’t afford to get snagged on some spike, or treaded on, or pulled on by the hem into some dark alley.

Harding twisted in her chair to face me again just as I sheathed my daggers onto my belt. She went to speak, swept me up and down with her eyes, and swallowed.

“Maybe I should go with you.”

“Through the city?”

“It might be safer.” Her skin flushed. “I mean, I can protect you.”

I grazed the hilt of a dagger with my thumb. Never used, probably blunt. Going out alone would be stupid… but I was always alone before.

But maybe I needed her. I’d never let Varric come with me, and––Ancestors forgive me––I needed a break from his stupid face.

And if we were quick enough, he would never know we left.

“Okay,” I said. She smiled with barely contained excitement. “But it’ll be a lot of stairs.”

-

Ask any noble how big Lowtown was and they’d lowball their answer. They had this idea of a small slum, like an alienage, packed and over-crowded with criminals and spinsters, but once you were actually in it…

There was a saying, in the area I grew up in; if you knew your way with Lowtown, you could find your way anywhere. Darktown looked complicated, but it was just pillars and beams, no houses. Lowtown’s streets trapped you in a maze of unclimbable stone.

But only unclimbable if you didn’t know where to look. Up was where I wanted to go, so up I went, with Harding trailing behind like a loyal puppy. I helped her off a rusted old ladder and onto a flat roof, where she stopped to catch her breath.

“Maker, you move quick,” she huffed.

“Sorry. I forget not everyone’s native.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s fun. I just kinda wish I warmed up first.” She smiled and stood tall. You couldn’t see much of anything from here other than more buildings and a few windows that no one bothered to look out of. At best, it was a nice place to watch the stars, if you could see through the smog.

“I take shortcuts where I can. Being alone, even during the day…”

“Running along rooftops is a shortcut?”

“No, but it lets me find them. Like climbing a tree to see where you are.” I pointed down at a small alley, filled with old crates. “Those have been there since the Blight. I use them to jump down.”

“No one’s moved them?”

“They’re empty. No one cares. Maybe if we were a bit higher up someone with money would complain, but…”

“Right.” She followed me into the alley. “I didn’t realise Kirkwall was on a slope. Like, there’s Lowtown and Hightown, but I kinda thought it was more of a metaphor.”

“It is now. The lowest part of Hightown is level to the highest part of Lowtown. My mother lived there, before…”

I trailed off.

It was too easy to say too much.

“Before?” she prodded.

“Nothing. Never mind. We’re here.”

We stopped outside a small door under an open veranda, hidden away in a dark corner nook. Most would pass by it and never know it was there.

“Do you live here?” She stepped into the shade. She peered in through the tiny window, but from here, there wouldn’t be much to see. “Cozy.”

“Small, you mean.”

“Well, those go hand in hand, right?”

“I suppose.”

I hesitated.

Why?

This was my home. I belonged here. Leaving was hard… why was coming back harder?

No. This was ridiculous. I dug the key out from its hiding spot and unlocked the door.

Inside was exactly how I’d left it. The perfect picture of domesticity. A fireplace, a chair to lounge in, a sprawling rug, and shelves cluttered with trinkets, baubles; most dwarven, many very old.

I supposed they all belonged to me, now.

Harding made a circle about the room.

“I know it’s not much,” I said.

“I love it.”

I’d never spent enough time in the room to admire it. My things were in mine, so I stayed there, and I didn’t, I hid away in taverns and watched the world go by.

Mother was just fine with that.

“Most of these are from Orzammar. My mother’s.”

“Were you born there?” She inspected a small carved statuette, her hands behind her back, so as not to be tempted to touch. I crept around the room, one foot after precarious foot to dodge the floorboards that creaked.

“No. I wish I was.”

“I guess I think about it sometimes. But Ma and Da are happy up here. I guess I am, too.”

“You guess?”

“Well. You know. We’re at war.”

“Right.”

I lowered myself into mother’s cushioned chair. She would lounge here with a book in her hands and her feet pointed to the fire. Now she’d never sit in it again.

Harding sat on the rug at my feet. The position was familiar, but I remembered it the other way around.

“It’s kinda funny, though.” There was no flame, but she regarded the fireplace as though there was. “I joined so I didn’t have to stay home and… get married and be a sheep farmer.”

“I can’t picture that.”

“It might’ve been nice.” She shrugged. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Any… Any special people?”

‘Special’ people. What a strange way to put it. There was nothing special about playing pretend for a man who never cared about you.

I stood. “No.”

“Oh.” She followed me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to––”

“It’s fine. I’ll get what I came for, and we can go.”

“What did you come for?”

I ignored mother’s bedroom and made straight for mine, a small, messy room with a small, messy bed, and only enough wardrobe space for a few dresses and shirts, now emptied aside from just one forgotten and abandoned box hidden in its darkest corner.

The black silk lifted from it like a rug being unfurled. It was too dark in my room to see the swirls and patterns embroidered into the fabric, but I knew they were there, could feel them under my fingers. Harding ogled it from over my shoulder.

“That’s beautiful,” she murmured.

It took a long moment for me to find my voice again. “I thought about selling it.”

“Why?”

So I could run away and never look back. “It’s from Orzammar. Mother let me borrow it. She didn’t ask for it back.” I stood and held the dress to my body. How long since I last wore it? Five years, more? “Does it look like it would still fit?”

“I think so. I don’t know. It’s hard to tell.”

I supposed I would find out. I rolled it back up again, placed it carefully back in its box, then lifted the box into my arms. “I’m done. Let’s go.”

“We’re heading back?”

“Not yet. Just… just one more stop.”

Leaving now was no easier than it was the first time, but I left nonetheless, and hid the key in its proper spot. Harding, at least, was a bright light in the corner of my eye, as the streets darkened with the clouds overhead. My destination revealed itself to me on the final turn of a recessed street.

I shoved down my hesitation. When Harding tried to follow me inside, I stopped her with an outstretched hand. 

“Wait out here? Please?”

“Okay.”

There were many things I shoved down, in those following minutes.

Nausea. Dread. My hand into my pocket to stop it from trembling. These rooms, which were more familiar to me than my own home, dull and dreary and dry with trapped heat with nowhere to rise to, a heat I used to find comforting, and which now suffocated me. I found the coin purse on the small table I used to draw at, the weight of it on my belt foreign as I clipped it next to my dagger.

I could have left. I could have let it be a memory. I could ask myself why I didn’t, why I had to turn the handle, why I had to see, but that wouldn’t fix it. And as the door creaked into the dark abyss, and the clouded, unblinking, pleading eyes of his rotting body peered at me from the darkness, I shoved down my vomit, and I ran.

[thievinghippo]

So I promised a postmortem and it’s finally time! Here’s the TL:DR. I loved it. I can already tell I’ll probably have more played hours in this game than Inquisition, and I fucking loved Inquisition! Good, bad, and ugly beneath the cut and there will be heavy spoilers for the entire game, so read at your own risk. (This is also long, because I have a lot to say!)

THE GOOD

Rook. Once I let go of my preconceived notion of how Rook was (mid-40s and serious but kind) and accepted Rook for the young, sarcastic character they are, I fell in love. Edda is going to be an A possibly even S tier OC for me

The dwarves. We were fed so well, y’all. So much lore and dialogue choices. There was even a Grey Warden dwarf specific dialogue choice. I love the confirmation of what we all suspected with the Titans. I just wish that a dwarf Rook had the opportunity to confront Solas. He apparently apologizes to Harding. But what about a dwarf Rook?

Exploration. I’m an idiot when it comes to figuring out in-game puzzles and such. I’ve read some complaints that everything was far too easy, but for one of the first times I remember, I could do a vast majority of puzzles and finding treasures without consulting a game guide. And I was actually proud when I figured things out. When I play Edda again, I’m going to 100% the world and I cannot wait

The Companions. Bonus points for Emmrich Volkarin. I ended up loving all of them. Even the ones I was very ‘meh’ on before playing the game. Like Bellara. She was on my list to romance second to last. And she has moved up to third, after Emmrich and Davrin. 

Emmrich Volkarin. Yes, he gets his own special mention. I love him so much that I created a second Rook to romance him. That way I have one Emmrich that is not a lich (Edda’s choices) and one Emmrich that is a lich (Sonnet’s choice). I love his compassion, his kindness, his reverence of the dead. I adore his romance and how clear it is that Rook has bewitched him, body and soul. The fact that they lean into the age gap and it becomes entwined with his own fears of death. He has my favorite personal quest. I loved the music, the atmosphere. How it pertains to his own journey, facing his mortality (plus Johanna Hezenkoss can get it). Plus it has the banger line of ‘Show them what a real necromancer can do!’ I even can’t wait not to romance him and see what the friendship is like and encourage him to hook up with Strife

The backgrounds. Granted, I’ve only played through the game 1.5 times, but there have been so many background mentions. Especially for the Grey Wardens. Mourn Watch has some great ones too. I mean, there was Grey Warden romance banter during a fight. In a side quest! I can’t wait to discover more

The character creator. I love how inclusive it is, especially when you compare it to previous Dragon Age games. The hair is beautiful (but where is my braid crown! my kingdom for a braid crown!) and I have overweight OCs, which make me very happy. Varric's shaving mirror is also amazing, and because I want EA to know that people are using these options, Sonnet is a trans woman who will save Thedas

THE BAD

Weird tonal switches. Emmrich and Harding are going to Ferelden so she can show him around but the South is being razed by darkspawn. Harding’s mom sends her back with pie and gives great hugs. How in the world are they getting to Ferelden? Rook was amazed to see the Inquisitor in the North so why would the members of the Veilguard be able to go to the South? Some of the codex entries are so dark and yet everyone is happy in the Lighthouse 

Give Rook a problem, please! I kept waiting for Rook’s LI to go up to her and ask if there’s anything distracting her. If there’s any problem they could solve together. But that never came and Rook is apparently the only person on the team that can’t be distracted by their own problems. How amazing would it have been if Rook had some sort of personal quest. Maybe based on lineage. Or background. Something that shows that she matters as much to her companions and they mean to her

The Act One Choice. Still mad about it. Are you telling me that two extra people would have saved Minrathous? That a city full of the most powerful mages in the known world couldn’t take down a fucking dragon? It didn’t feel earned and it did annoy me a great deal

Let. Rook. Mourn. While I appreciate that Rook was able to mourn Varric and Davrin (in my playthrough) privately, the fact that it immediately jumps to a sex scene sort of bothered me. Especially Emmrich’s taking them to the Necropolis so they can bang in a coffin. This was not the time to leave the Lighthouse, Emmrich! The rest of the team got to mourn Davrin and worry about Neve together. I wish Rook could have been a part of that too. 

Let’s talk Varric’s death. I didn’t see it coming. I actually ranted to a friend before I knew what happened that they should have killed him in the prologue if this was how they were going to use him. Oops. I hate how callous the truth about his death makes Rook look. I hate that Harding and Neve didn’t even really seem to mourn. Hate how the Inquisitor or Dorian or Isabela don’t mention him at all. I hate how obvious his death is in my second playthrough. I will have to fix this all in fanfic

THE UGLY

Assuming there is another DA game, where do we go from here? I really dislike the concept of the Executors in the secret ending. One thing I’m optimistic about is that by basically wiping the south off the map, we might be able to have more games there. Because everything will have been reset, so to speak. How does the South deal with the mages when they’ve all been fighting darkspawn for their lives? Put them back into Circles? I think not

I’m also not sure about what choices would move forward into a new DA game. Not talking companion choices, but choices that actually affect the world. No matter what we do, the Blight is over and the Veil is safe. If BioWare couldn’t be bothered to have the Well of Sorrows choice matter, I can’t imagine they’ll care how Solas was bound to the Veil, whether it be by choice, trickery, or force. Minrathous or Treviso is the only other non-companion choice I can think of that might possibly matter

But honestly, it doesn’t matter, because who knows if we’ll ever get another Dragon Age game? I know I would love one, but I have this sinking feeling there won’t be (please let me be wrong!)

So there you have it. I really love this game, good, bad, and ugly. And I found so much more to love than to dislike. I have a feeling I will be yelling about this game (and Emmrich!) for a long, long time

[palenutbasement]

About 2 years ago I made a post about Dwarf’s personality and characteristics. I thought I would expand on it a little more (headcanon time)

I still think they’re the optimistic and sociable type. Basically most of their dialogue with you gives off that impression. This seems contradictory because of their backstory but I see it more or less as someone who’s still trying to find happiness and lead a better life. They do have moments when they’re blunt though.

They like most human things including food and technology. Dwarves in general are friends of humans so it’s pretty typical. I like to think that because they go out into town to get what they need, they adapted some human ingredients into their diet (or ingredients you can really only find in the surface). Despite this they actively choose to speak their own language, it’s just a way of not assimilating completely.

I used to think dwarves wouldn’t eat gems but I’m changing my mind. I believe they’re edible but not a substitute for meals, they’d be like candy or something. Though they can still be used for other things like jewelry and we know dwarves used them to enhance weapons and tools. Anyway, I’m going to assume Dwarf loves gems because they’re a sweet tooth.

They put their cave near the surface to be a little closer to the humans, because it’s better for business, and because the deeper levels are unlivable somehow. It’s mentioned by Dwarf that they like being deeper underground, but they’re just right by the entrance and there's probably a reason for that. I take it they hide from humans to guarantee their safety, but not so much that they’re unreachable. I still don’t know why they run a shop outside of being an in-game reward for the player though. Maybe they’re in debt.

I also think they’re mettlesome but reckless. They’re probably used to getting away with things like stealing and breaking and entering in town, so I see them being quite confident. The sewer encounter and fight was most likely started by them, and they also seemed unarmed fighting Krobus in his own home.

Despite that, they’re generally careful around shadow people in the mines. Before I thought that they just attacked them whenever they saw them around or straight up went after them deliberately, but it makes more sense to me that they just hide. It really depends on how you see shadow people as a species but I see them as another society. In that case, it would be better for Dwarf to stay out of their sight completely and not risk the shadow people organizing to hunt them down once they find out that they exist. If there’s just one guy on their own though, Dwarf might target them.

Krobus would play an interesting role in their life partially because he has a meaningful connection with both humans and shadow people. Shadow people are apparently enemies of humans but he shows that being compassionate to both isn’t mutually exclusive, which begs the question if the same could happen for shadow people and dwarves. I feel like I could make a separate post dedicated to this dynamic but I’ll keep it short here. I’ll say that if there was any starting point to building a positive relationship between both characters, it would be Dwarf noticing his different, more favorable outlook on humanity and finding common ground there. They would also be gracefully crossing a threshold where they see that shadow people have their nuances too.

I can see Dwarf being hard to write, given that there’s a lot of gaps to fill because the lore is vague, but it’s really fun to do. I’m very happy 1.6 gave them some new content but they still hold unused potential. I should maybe think about what else could be done. I mean, I probably have some more headcanons that I just can’t remember right now.