#muse ignoring me to galavant

[helluva-hazbins]

[ebdaydreamer]

fuck-it friday

my muse is so all over the place so i'm sporadically jumping from fic to fic, which is why i've not done one of these tag games in a hot minute. here's a lil snippet of the Galavant au I'm working on.

(also go watch Galavant, it's one of my favourite shows ever and it deserved 10 seasons)

“Sir Buckley,” Prince Edmundo greeted him with a bow. Buck resisted the urge to roll back into bed. It would be easier to reject him outright than simply ignoring him.

“I have travelled long and far to seek your favour. Four months ago, my peaceful kingdom of Valencia… I'm sorry. What’s that smell?”

“That would be me.” Buck flashed him a grin and stood up to move to his desk, which had become more of a resting place for dirty dishes. It was almost time for his daily trip to the tavern anyway.

“Four months ago, my peaceful kingdom of Valencia fell under attack from a rival land.”

Buck found his jug of ale and refilled his flask.

“My people were taken captive.” The prince’s voice was growing agitated. Good. Maybe he’d leave on his own. “My entire family were either killed, imprisoned or forced to flee.”

“Oh, that's terrible. That's just terrible,” Buck kicked his feet up on the desk. He finally properly looked at the man for the first time. He was your typical fairytale handsome prince: dark, silky hair, deep brown eyes, and he was clearly very toned. He probably had maidens throwing themselves at him. And he could offer them great fame and fortune and a comfortable life that apparently Buck couldn’t offer. What an asshole.

“Still, you seem like a capable man. I'm sure you'll land on your feet.” He took a bite out of a piece of fruit he found on one of the plates that looked fresh enough. “Nice meeting you. Door's on the wall.”

Prince Edmundo swatted at his feet and Buck dropped them with a pout. He leant on the desk, his gaze piercing into Buck.

“Before being captured, my parents hid me in the cellar and handed me the priceless Jewel of Valencia.” Edmundo pulled a gaudy green jewel out of a pouch. “I hid in that cellar for months as my family was killed right above me.” He paused, and Buck could see the tears begin to well. “I don’t know who’s still alive. My-” He cut himself off, and lifted up the jewel. “I’m offering you this priceless jewel, all my country has left.”

Suddenly, the prince dropped to the floor. “I’m throwing myself at you here. I’m begging you, Sir Buckley… Please, help me save my people. Help me save my family. I can’t do it alone.”

tagging: @spaceprincessem @prince-buck-diaz @heartbeatdiaz @wildlife4life @monsterrae1 @911onabc @alyxmastershipper @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @wh0re-behavi0r @shortsighted-owl @bigfootsmom @gentoodiaz

[yourdeepestfathoms]

i have been working religiously on my book, so here is another part for y’all!

— — —

“I’m sorry, Mister Proctor,” Mary whispered as they approached Proctor’s horse.

“For a mouse that squeals and cries as loudly as you do during punishments, you sure love doing things that will warrant such treatment,” Proctor said.

Mary lowered her head. It still hurt. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Help me onto my horse.”

Mary obeyed.

“Do try to keep up. I don’t want to be waiting on you. A storm is coming.”

“Yes, sir.”

Proctor was right: a storm was coming, and it hit with the regular ferocity of a Massachusetts winter tempest. Now she understood why Proctor was wearing so many layers.

By the time they were halfway to the farm, Mary was completely soaked and shivering, the cold having crept deep into her bones, turning them into rods of ice. She wondered if this freezing rain had been sent by God Himself to punish her for her wrongdoings. It certainly felt like a lashing from the Lord.

“You could have been back inside by now,” Proctor mused atop his steed. Mary could barely hear him over the crunching of gravel and pattering of rain. “But instead you had to go galavant through Salem.”

“I was worried about my friends,” Mary said, daring to defend herself.

Proctor scoffed but didn’t say anything.

In the distance, a farm swam through the sheets of icy rain. It wasn’t the Proctor property, so there was no point in stopping, but someone called out to them anyway.

“Ah, John! Have you come to accuse me some more? If you haven’t noticed, it’s raining. I can’t set anything on fire in this weather.”

Proctor ground his teeth. “I already apologized to you for that.”

“And yet, here we are!”

There was an old man leaning on the fence bordering the property, white hair clinging to a balding scalp, deep blue eyes sparking with mischief in the half-light. He had a wrinkly lizard’s face and hands more befitting for a skeleton. Despite his age, Mary knew he had enough vigor to best any of the younger men in the village. She heard he once beat a burglar to death with a cane. He was a lot of vex and a little well-mannered, and he loved nothing more than to irritate the people of Salem Village, especially John Proctor.

“It would be a shame if this would be the year your land floods, John,” Giles Corey said. No person in their right mind would be out in this storm; he had definitely been waiting for Proctor to go down the road so he could prod him. He would risk getting ill if it meant he was able to dig under the younger farmer’s skin.

“If this is some kind of attempt to get the deed to my farm, then you can save it,” Proctor said, spurring his horse into motion again. “I’ve heard it all, Giles.”

Corey huffed. His expression brightened once again when he noticed Mary holding onto the saddle.

“Ah, Mary Warren! How are you, dearest? Is the back of your head alright?”

Proctor was quick to step in: “Don’t talk to her,” he snapped at Corey. Then, to Mary, “Don’t talk to him.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re going to kill that girl, John!” Corey shouted after them. “If you ever need a place to flee to, Mary Warren, Martha and I are willing to take a servant!”

His words were washed away by the rain, but they remained rooted inside of Mary’s brain. If only she could switch employers. If she weren’t an indentured servant, she would have gone to the Putnam’s a long time to work with Mercy. Maybe then every day wouldn’t be such a pain.

And speaking of pain…

Mary winced, tentatively touching the back of her head. She couldn’t tell if the dampness she was feeling was blood or just rainwater. Didn’t matter now. She dropped her arm.

Above her, Proctor was muttering in his saddle, casting a dark look at the road in front of him. He said something about Giles Corey and something else about the farm and something else about wanting to rip out the old man’s gizzard. He seemed awfully worked up about the confrontation.

“If I may, sir…”

Proctor looked down at her, eyes narrowed. Mary nearly stopped talking right then and there, but she swallowed her nerves and continued on.

“If Mister Corey is such a bother to you, why not do more to stop him?”

“Are you lame, girl?” Proctor snapped. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do all this time? Ever since the fire, he’s been a thorn in my side.”

The fire referred to a fire that started in Proctor’s house, a time before Mary went to work with his family, which she was grateful for because she wouldn’t have been able to handle that drama. Naturally, Proctor said Corey was responsible for the fire, which made Corey file a lawsuit against Proctor. Later, one of Proctor’s sons would come forward and admit to being the one to cause the fire. Proctor begrudgingly apologized, but that didn’t stop Corey from continuously bringing it up whenever he got the chance.

“Why do you bring it up?” Proctor then asked. “What would YOU do? Since you think you’re so clever.”

“Me? Well, I-- I, uhh… Maybe raise the price on the land? Make it to where it would be too expensive for him to want to buy.”

Proctor opened, then closed his mouth. Then, he squinted at her. Finally, he actually laughed and took off his broad-brimmed hat, batting her over the head with it.

“I guess you aren’t so stupid after all,” he said affectionately. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

Mary cracked a small smile. The bad outweighed the good when it came to her master, but she knew John Proctor wasn’t all cruelty and lashings. He had a strong softness for all of his children and a deep love for his wife. Sometimes Mary would hear him reading light-hearted Bible stories to his younger kids at night. Sometimes she would stand outside the room and listen.

Through the glistening shroud of mist and drizzle at the side of the road, the Proctor property unfolded from the fog like a proper country castle. Acres upon acres of emerald green grass, sturdy barns, a fine house, fields chock full of crops and livestock. Their cattle were fat and happy, slick with rain, water streaming from their round bellies and mud splashing up from each delicate footstep. It darkened their coats and made them look like they were soaked in blood. It was no wonder why Giles Corey wanted the land so badly. It was thriving with wealth.

“Put my horse away,” Proctor said after sliding off the chestnut stallion’s back. “Tack him. Then come inside immediately. Do not run off.”

“Yes, sir.”

Proctor gave her one last warning stare, then handed her the reins and walked to the house.

Mary would have taken her sweet time putting away the horse if it weren’t for the fact that she was freezing and her head was killing her. She tacked the stallion, put him into his stall, and fed him in record time, ready to get inside and change out of her wet clothes. However, when she finally entered the house, she didn’t get to do that. She was stopped by her master and mistress.

Proctor and Elizabeth were speaking to each other, but Mary could tell they were arguing, despite their level tones. They both turned to her when she stepped inside. Proctor was already in dry clothes, standing beside the roaring hearth. The flames looked so comforting and warm.

“Stay where you are,” Proctor ordered, noticing her desire to go to the fire.

“Yes, sir.”

“I understand she is in trouble, but at least let her warm up,” Elizabeth said.

Elizabeth Proctor had always been Mary’s favorite Proctor. Twenty-two years her husband’s her junior, though she looked a lot younger than that, she was kind and patient, never using the whip and rarely ever raising her voice. She wore dresses in soft shades, greatly mirroring her soothing nature; right now she was wearing a pale green gown with a white apron. Her hair was champagne blonde and her eyes were a pretty hazel with flecks of gold near the pupils. Mary craved her warm, maternal gaze so much it was almost painful.

“No,” Proctor said. “This is a part of her punishment.”

“She is going to freeze. Do you want our servant to freeze, John? Then what shall we do?”

“Get a better servant, perhaps? One that won’t run off?” He shot a glare at Mary, reminding her that he was, in fact, still mad about that, in case she had forgotten. She hadn’t.

So much for their moment on the road.

Elizabeth opened her mouth, then sighed. She looked at Mary. “Yes, you should not have run off. You aren’t allowed to go anywhere without our permission. You know that.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Always obedient, always agreeable. Mary knew her place.

“Why did you leave?” Elizabeth asked.

“Mercy came to see me, ma’am,” Mary answered. She didn’t want to throw her friend to the crows, but she also knew better than to not be dishonest, especially when she was already in trouble. “We wanted to go check on Abby and Betty. We heard that they weren’t well.”

“I heard that, too,” Elizabeth nodded slowly. “How are they?”

“Strange. They slept like the dead, but woke up out of nowhere and started screaming. Betty tried to jump out of the window!”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up. “Did she?”

“That is none of our concern right now,” Proctor growled, butting his way back in. “This disobedience cannot go unpunished.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Yes…I suppose you’re right. I say no dinner tonight.”

Proctor rolled his eyes. “You coddle her, Elizabeth.”

“I do not coddle her!”

Ignoring his wife, Proctor looked at Mary, “Fetch me a switch.”

Mary released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her heart leapt out from the pit in her stomach. She nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

[quasieli]

But I Can’t Help...

[AO3 Link]

The ease with which the moment happened all but stunned Fjord into silence. Had he really just heard him correctly? Was his mind playing tricks on him? If his lack of a response had bothered the other man, he was very good at not letting it show.

Strangely, that was one thing Fjord... admired about him, it was quite hard to ruffle Caduceus’s feathers. He knew the other man would laugh if he ever said so, probably make some remark about not having feathers to ruffle with an honest naivety that was often mistaken for ignorance. Fjord took it more as just a part of the strange firbolg’s charm. Caduceus was plenty smart, but perhaps not in a way many could appreciate. Fjord definitely appreciated it.

It may have taken some time, but Fjord was realizing that there was much about Caduceus that seemed so contradictory to how he presented himself to the world. For months he had just seen the man as the gentle healer who was perhaps a bit eccentric with his dealings with death, but now that he had the great fortune to spend so much time with him, it was boggling to see how blind he had been.

Caduceus was by no means perfect, but he was the model of a man that Fjord never knew he needed to see. He had his faults about him; his anger turned him passive, resolving him to seethe in silence while still putting on a happy face. This was a complication of Caduceus’s upbringing that Fjord did not know how to resolve and it pained him for ages that he could not do more to help the man that had helped him so.

But it was in this state that Fjord found clarity. He saw what Caduceus had been seeing for months in the faces of their friends whenever he offered them a kind word or wise encouragement during a period of distress. He was amazed at how quickly Caduceus had worked in finding his answers for the group, it seemed almost second nature to him, and that’s because it was.

Emotion was not something Caduceus saw as a burden, an obstacle to overcome in finding strength. He always encouraged others to speak freely and not let emotions be a hindrance. Emotions were meant to be felt, we were allowed to be upset, frustrated and even sad. Why then did this not apply to him? That was what Fjord could not wrap his head around.

Listening to his wise musings for only a short time had all but changed Fjord entirely, greatly for the better. So how had a lifetime of dispensing the very wisdom that he needed fallen deaf to his own ears? This was something Fjord was more equipped to deal with. It was easier to lead through a pretty turn of phrase rather than by actually acting by your word.

///

As twilight approached and the coastal sky dimmed, a soft lull fell upon the chateau that the Mighty Nein had once again taken rest in. It was not a normal occurrence for the usually bustling chateau to fall silent, but the business’s main source of life was out on a (less than usual) reluctant night on the town with her daughter and her friends. Caduceus had opted to stay in, not feeling much up for galavanting with the group. At the decline of the offer, Fjord knew it was the perfect time for them to talk.

In a place like the chateau, it was not necessary for the group to double up on rooms, but Caduceus and Fjord often did, for obvious reasons. However, upon approaching his own shared room with two mugs of tea in hand, Fjord felt himself hesitate. He could just enter normally with the appearance of having no ulterior motive, but somehow he felt wrong in what he was about to do.

But Caduceus deserved to feel okay, that he knew for certain. The man he so deeply adored, the one he was now blessed to call his, he deserved to be heard too. He deserved to know that his feelings matter too. Fjord huffed a breathy laugh to himself as the thought dawned on him, amazed at the growth in his own emotional intelligence. It wasn’t even intelligence, really, but simple cognizance. It was so easy to just ignore all those signs that would eventually lead to talks Fjord wanted nothing more than to avoid. 

Six months ago, the same man would’ve shoved even the simplest discomfort down to put on a brave face and lead his friends. Now, here he was, bringing his boyfriend a cup of tea on a cozy night in, letting himself feel good and not ashamed of what he once would have considered weakness. It is not weak to be soft, he thought, it actually takes a great deal of strength. At least, it had for him, to get past a lifetime of neglect of the person he truly could be. This is not the man Fjord could have ever envisioned himself to become, and yet...

Holding the tray in one hand, Fjord rapped a knuckle against the wooden door to announce his arrival before entering. The room was dimly lit, a faint glowing fireplace illuminating the northern part of the room. In the southern half, the sweet firbolg man lay resting on the shared plush king bed, tickled by the edges of the fire light. Fjord could tell he was not asleep by the soft shifting of his features, it was most likely that he was deep in thought. Still, Fjord thought it rude to interrupt, crossing the room quietly and leaving the tray of tea on a side table.

Waiting for an opportune moment to talk, Fjord stepped over to the hearth, inside the warm fire crackled and popped. It was by no means cold in Nicodranas at the moment, or practically ever, but there was a certain comfort Fjord had found in having the fire lit. He leaned against the brick mantle, the fire getting almost too close for comfort. Still, he stared on, appreciating the beauty of it, strengthened with his newfound sense of the world.

“I’m not equipped to deal with burns tonight.”

Fjord turned at the sound of the voice, Caduceus was now sat up in the bed, eyes still closed and a gentle mischievous smile plastered across his face.

“How did you...” Fjord began, but then realized who he was talking to. Chuckling, he walked back over to the side of the bed. Caduceus did not stir at the sound of the approach, but even Fjord could see the slight blush that rose to his cheeks and happily twitching ears as he crept up. Gently, Fjord placed a hand on his partner’s cheek, turning his head to face his own. Fjord couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered through his stomach at the sight of that goofy, blissful smile, but he wasn’t going to hide it either. Gently scratching the side of Caduceus’s jaw, Fjord leaned in and placed a tender kiss on the other man’s forehead, letting it linger for a moment or two.

Leaning up ever slightly, Fjord began, “If you will indulge me, may we move to the sofa?”

Caduceus nodded simply, his large purple eyes fluttering open as he stood. Fjord took his hand and led the pair over to the soft, red velvet upholstered couch at the center of the room, the fire illuminating and warming it from a safer distance. A moment of silence hung in the room as the pair took a seat, Fjord trying desperately to not let his palpable nervousness show. That was near impossible when faced with the likes of Caduceus.

“Is everything alright?”

Fjord looked up at that gentle face, the eyes slightly dotted with worry. He didn’t want him to worry. Still holding his love’s hand, Fjord began to nervously rub circles into the other’s palm, breathing in time with the languid movement.

“Nothing is wrong, per se,” a beat, “I just wanted to talk.”

“Of course,” Caduceus's features melted into a goofy smile that made Fjord’s heart flutter, aching with the desire to kiss him again. But he mustn’t, he had come here for a reason, he couldn’t allow himself to get distracted, or to back down.

“You’re beautiful, you know that, right?”

Caduceus’s eyes widened with surprise. After a moment, his brow knitted, but the smirk across his face held back any worry that Fjord’s statement had been ill-taken. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?” Caduceus finally asked as he stifled back a chuckle.

“In a way... yes,” Fjord began again, trying to sound more resolute, “but I do not mean it simply in vain. Yes, you have beautiful eyes, and a gentle face and a warm smile that brightens even the darkest day...” Fjord paused, once again getting lost in his desire, “but that’s not the point. The point is that you also have a beautiful, kind soul, a soul that he seen and done so much, constantly giving and giving to others. It’s one of the things that I admire so greatly about you, but you see, there’s one thing that confounds me. Everyone can see just how lovely and compassionate you are... why can’t you see that?”

The look of confusion that overtook Caduceus’s face was more hardset than his previous, here he was genuinely lost about what the other man was getting at. He lowered his head towards his chest, a curtain of long, pink hair falling over his face. His eyes darted for a moment, attempting to piece through whatever meaning he could find.

A sharply clawed crooked finger found its way under Caduceus’s chin, lifting his head to meet Fjord’s gaze. Fjord’s free hand tucked the fallen hair behind one of Caduceus’s ears, a single lock left sweetly hanging over his eyes. “Do not look so alarmed, I only bring this up because... because I care about you, because you are so kind and giving and you deserve tenfold, and so much more, given back to you, but... I sense that you don’t think that. I see you when you think no one is looking, I noticed when the mention of your family used to make you go quiet. I may not be very perceptive, but I notice when you are hurting.”

Caduceus took the hand underneath his head, gently unfurling the fingers to place a kiss on Fjord’s open palm before placing the hand against his cheek.

“I want to help, it pains me to see you hurt. You’ve done so much for me, let me do this for you,” Fjord tried not to let the small sob forming in his throat become audible, caring less about the gentle tears that began to well in his eyes.

Caduceus lay silent for a moment, still holding Fjord’s hand against his cheek, nuzzling into his warm skin. His eyes opened a crack and stared down at the couch they shared.

“I love you.”

The ease with which those words were said all but stunned Fjord into silence. Had he really just heard him correctly? Was his mind playing tricks on him? If his lack of a response had bothered Caduceus, he was very good at not letting it show. He simply continued nuzzling into the hand on his cheek, rubbing the back of the hand with his own.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Caduceus finally broke the silence after a minute, which felt so much longer to Fjord, “and don’t think I am saying this to cast your fears aside, I just needed to tell you. I love you and I’m grateful that you care so deeply about my well being, even if you don’t...”

“I love you, too... Caduceus,” a pause, “Truly, I do. Those are not hollow, parroted words.”

Caduceus’s eyes fell closed once more. “I believe you,” he spoke softly, “you are a man who does not take words lightly.”

“Then you know that I’m serious when I say I want to help you,” Fjord placed his free hand upon Caduceus’s other cheek, his purple eyes fluttering open once more and meeting Fjord’s loving gaze, “You have helped me grow so much, more than you could ever know, in these last few months, but I am not simply repaying a debt. I’m doing this... I’m doing this because I do love you, Caduceus Clay. Let me help nurture your garden as you have nurtured mine.”

Caduceus cocked an eyebrow at Fjord’s choice of phrase, snickering but nodding all the same. Ecstatic, Fjord moved in and kissed his lover as if it were his first time, passionate and fueled by the fireworks exploding in his mind and heart. Dragging away from his lips, Fjord leaned into Caduceus’s chest, warmed by the sound of his excitedly flittering heartbeats. The pair laid still and quiet, Caduceus hugging Fjord close, his fingers gently scratching Fjord’s scalp. They watched as the fire crackled, its warmth only adding to the serenity they were sharing. 

Caduceus was the first to break the silence after some time, beginning to hum as his fingers lazily played with Fjord’s hair. It wasn’t long before the humming turned into actual song, Fjord reveling in the rumbling of Caduceus’s chest as his deep baritone filled the room, despite the gentleness of his voice. 

“... but I can’t help... falling in love with you.” 

[voices-ringing-out]

MUSE ADDITIONS

because we ALL knew this was coming, let’s be real. i’m gonna work on a temporary/by request/rare muse page on my blog because quite a few of the muses i have are ones i will only write on rare occasion, but for now, here’s some brief intros for the newcomers

BECK (Six Feet Under The Stars) : I’m not happy about his faceclaim but it’s all I’ve got for now. A poltergeist who has no memories of his real name or past life, and alternates between wanting to know them and wanting to keep them hidden, just in case his life was shit, because who needs that baggage. Mischievous, cynical, and secretly yearning for company of any calibre. (He will most likely have a Newsies verse since my current thoughts are whoever he was before he died came from that time period.)

GARETH HART (Galavant) : the last name is made up since he doesn’t have one. The guard to the king (see Richard, below), a job he has held since he was ten, Gareth is pretty rough and tumble on the surface, with a tendency to shun anything that could be seen as soft, caring, or ‘weak’, which Richard - a giant softie usually - tends to ignore. Gareth has a hard outer shell, but is a total sap if you get through to him. (He is exclusive to ONLY @heartsunholy​‘s Madalena, no other Madalena roleplayers. Other than that, he’s pretty open.)

JACK ‘COWBOY’ KELLY (Newsies) : more or less an orphan and the unofficial and fiercely loyal leader of the newsies on the streets of New York. He has dreams of finally making enough money to run away to Santa Fe, but the connections he has formed in New York continue to give him pause as he ponders the choice between making a new start across the country, or staying with the family he has built and loved for years. (I’ve not watched the Broadway version yet, so knowledge is limited to the film for now, but we’ll see where I take his character after seeing the musical.)

KING RICHARD (Galavant) : I haven’t figured out a surname for him yet but in canon, he has a king whose parents assumed his older brother would be their successor - and so when it doesn’t work out that way, Richard is plunged into the duties of being a king with no prior training. As such he grows up soft and clingy to anyone who shows him any affection, which he never got from his parents. He can also be very cruel if he acts on knee jerk emotions, but... well. (As with Gareth, he’s very open to romantic relationships but exclusive to ONLY @heartsunholy​’s Madalena.)

LOUIS ‘KID BLINK’ BALLATT (Newsies) : adamantly refusing to answer to his given name, Blink is blind in one eye. Depending on verse, he may have lost it in some way, or simply cannot see from that eye and wears the patch for looks, but regardless of backstory he is always half-blind. While Blink prefers to keep to the background, he remains heavily involved with the revolution Jack leads, feeling off if he’s not moving and working in one way or another. (There wasn’t much screentime for him in the film so as of right now he’s very canon divergent, which will change as I intake other Newsies media most likely, so please be kind and patient with me if he’s not exactly like you might imagine!}

SEAN ‘SPOT’ CONLON (Newsies) : the self proclaimed ‘king of Brooklyn’, Spot, as his territory is the largest of the different groups of newsies, learned early on that in order to ensure things wouldn’t get out of hand, he had to command respect. As it turns out, learning accuracy with the slingshot and keeping marbles on him at all times was a good way to do that. Despite being temperamental and at times stubborn to the point of trouble, he cares about the company he keeps and works to keep them safe. 

[gaymingbinosaur]

Dragon Age coffee shop Au

@athena1138 here’s the au you asked for.  Also I’m willing to take more suggestions for au head cannons if anyone is interested. Also @herald-divine-hell I know you like inquisitor x leliana and thought you might be interested.  If not just ignore it no pressure.

I’m willing to do dragon age (no character critical), also a bit rusty with da2.  Still do it but it might take longer and no promises with da2.

Skyrim-  suggest specific characters or guilds

And galavant, just need an au

Also I’m chill with most ships unless it somehow triggers me

Also this has inquisitor x leliana, inquisitor x vivenne and inquisitor x varric since I did a ship headcannon for everyone mentioned. Also if this sounds really spaced out, I just finished typing it so I feel blech. 

ao3

The cofee’s shop’s name is Skyhold and its downtown, Haven.

Cadash, Adaar, Trevelyan and Lavellan are the baristas.  The 4 of them always try to help each other get their love interests.  My headcanons on how each origin would flirt with the LI. You can mix and match to fit your inquisitor, it just forced me to make four romance scenarios just for the inquisitor. I will also reference these flirting headcanons using their names because it’s easier than re-explaining the headcanon. 

Lavellan draws flowers and hearts on their LI’s cup and the LI keeps all of the cups because they always felt that they would be destroying actual art throwing their cup away.  (Too pretty for the trash).

Adaar wrote love poetry on a napkin and was embarassed as fuck when their muse finds it

Trevelyan always tries to serve their LI and tends to make a fool of themselves. They spill coffee on themselves multiple times around their love interest.  Sometimes on said LI.  Trevelyan just finally got fed up on embarrassing themselves and wrote their number on the cup of coffee they just made for their LI.

Cadash I think would be more upfront then the other 3.  They would make horrible coffee puns when they flirt until they just get fed up and ask their LI on a date, using more coffee puns.

Joesiphine owns the coffee shop and is the reason that it is so successful even if it is in a very small town. 

Lelianna is her roommate and checks in on her as often as she can.  She tends to stay and people watch if Josephine doesn’t need help. 

Varric is an author that moved to Haven because Kirkwall was bugging him too much to write in peace.  If you ship him with Bethany or Hawke, they got married and came here too.  Skyhold is his favorite place to write.

Sera is a college drop out and she and her old college buddies meet up at Skyhold for coffee every week.  She also got really talented at spray painting murals.

Solas is the professor of the nearby university.  He would either teach philosophy, art or history.  He comes for coffee before and after classes.  

Cole is studying psychology and sometimes people watches with Lelianna.  He tries to help people if he spots someone struggling during these people watches.  

Iron Bull volunteers as a highschool football coach.  He is a mechanic and he brings donuts from Skyhold for The Chargers (the football team).  He makes a living as a mechanic and when he gets coffee just for himself he people watches  with Lelianna and Cole.  He also sometimes fixes things at Skyhold.

Dorian goes to the shop after visiting the library and drinks coffee and reads.  He sometimes gets a pastry after he’s done reading.

Vivienne currates an art museum and tends to order large quantity of coffee for her coworkers.  

Blackwall goes on early morning fishing trips and gets coffee before hand.  He invites some of the people in the shop.  He can sometimes get Bull to go.

Cassandra and Cullen work together and carpool.  They get coffee before work. 

Ok how romances work with everybody including non romanceable companions. 

At first Cassandra would roll her eyes as the inquisitor flirted with her as they made their coffee, but as time went on they grew on her. Cassandra sometimes after dropping Cullen home after work will return to Skyhold to see the inquisitor.  After the inquisitor noticing this bought a bouquet of fake flowers (so they don’t die) and starts giving her a flower with her coffee.   Cullen thought it was amusing when he first saw this happening. It took several months before the inquisitor managed to get the courage to ask her out.  They wrote a poem on her cup to ask her out and bought a real bouquet of flowers to give her.

Cullen is a blushy mess every time he goes to Skyhold.  Though when he practically drags Cass to the coffee shop, so they can get their earlier, you would have thought he was going somewhere where he won’t embarrass himself.  If any of the other three that isn’t Trevelyan is who he has a crush on, Cass is wary because Cullen keeps spilling coffee on her when he sees them.  If it is Trevelyan, Cass just goes to the other side of Skyhold, because they both keep spilling coffee on her.    And I have a couple theories on how they would date.  Cassandra gets fed up getting coffee stains on her clothes and forces Cullen to ask her out, saying she won’t drive him to work anymore.  Or a barista sick of cleaning up spilt coffee will tell Cullen about the inquisitor’s crush or the same barista gets creative and makes an elaborate plan with Cassandra to get the two of them to confess their feelings. 

Vivenne can’t stay overly long during her visits because she has to get back to work but she will show up more frequently and sometimes she shows up to buy coffee for herself and she stays to talk to the inquisitor.  She invites the inquisitor to all the museum's events she helped make and of course the inquisitor can go for free.  She will come in one day and just ask point blank if they want a date, wearing her fanciest clothes and they go to five star restaurant. 

Dorian comes in with a book and after work the inquisitor would find a copy of the same book.  And the next time they saw Dorian they would talk about the book they just read and making a note of the book he was reading now.  This will go on for a bit and Dorian would get suspicious.  He will find out when he finished a book quicker than usual.  He comes to the coffee shop and saw the inquisitor reading the book he just returned.  

Sera fell for the inquisitor the moment she saw them spit in the coffee of some jackass screaming for his coffee to get done quicker.   She stayed until Skyhold became less busy and strikes up a conversation with them.  The two of them became quick friends and Sera and them will have a small prank war whenever they see each other.   Nothing to get the inquisitor fired but enough to make their work more fun.    The inquisitor asked her out when Sera fell asleep.  They wrote their number on her face with the word “Date?”.

Blackwall and the inquisitor always had a quick chat  in the mornings and talked about how they have been.  But when their feelings became romantic they became less talkative.  The inquisitor would be the first person he would go to when he wanted to go fishing with a friend and they would always try to go on their days off.   He would also carve little wood trinkets for them and the inquisitor had shelves of tiny wooden sculptures in their home.  When he confessed his feelings he carved them a little wooden heart to give them.  

Iron Bull,  so many bad puns, so much pain.  It’s worse if it’s Cadash and their puns.  The Iron Bull and them would start with a friends with benefits situation.  After he noticed the barista checking him out a few too many times.  Though it doesn’t take long for them to catch feelings.   I think one of them would be able to confess before bluritng it out drunk or during sex.   But after that they would be chill and The Chargers love the inquisitor and thinks they make the coach happy.

Solas normally would just go in and out quickly, not saying a word to anyone.  But if he falls for the Inquisitor that would change.  He would visit more frequently and stay for long periods of time.  He would sometimes bring tiny flowers to stick behind their ears, giving him a chance to touch them. He would say things that would make the inquisitor swoon if they weren’t at work, instead they turn red and have their knees feel weak.  He also has a sketchbook full of drawings of the inquisitor.  During slow days the inquisitor would chat with him.  Solas had to go to the bathroom on one of these days and forgot he left his sketchbook on the table.  When he returned he found the inquisitor flipping through his sketchbook, looking absolutely shaken to their core.

Josephine is hesitant about starting a relationship with the inquisitor.  Because technically she’s their boss.  It would be inappropriate.  It doesn’t stop Lelianna from shipping it.  Lelianna befriends the inquisitor and invites them to go places with her and Josie.  Then Lelianna would get sick everytime.  Josephine asked Lelianna to stop.  Lelianna promises to stop if Josephine asks the Inquisitor out.   Josephine refuses to go on anymore of these trips, so Lelianna wrote a note asking the Inquisitor out and to meet Josie at their house.  Josephine was shocked when she opened the door and found the Inquisitor said that they were supposed to go on a date.

Lelianna and the Inquisitor got to know each other during the times when Lelianna would visit and Josephine was busy doing something else.    It started off innocent enough but soon both of them found out they had a lot in common.  Which soon made them realize that the other is very cute.   As time went on their conversations became more flirty and heated, until one day Josephine caught them kissing when she decided to come to work on a day off to fill some paperwork.

Cole noticed during one of his people watching days that the cheerful barista who was always nice to him looked like they have been crying.  He went up and ask them what was wrong and they just smiled and said nothing.  Cole dropped it until the next day he brought a movie that Lelianna said always made her happy.  When he explained this to the inquisitor it caused a smile to spread to their face.  He found out the inquisitor’s boy/girlfriend just cheated on them. Cole kept bringing stuff he knows makes people happy at first because he wanted to cheer them up and after because he liked their smile.  One day when he was planning to give a teddy bear to them the inquisitor held up a movie and asked if after work he would like to watch a movie with them.

Varric wouldn’t even have to order anything, he spends so much time there all the baristas knew what to get him, so the fact that a barista knows what he wants before he tells them isn’t unusual. What is unusual is the same barista for months being the one to give him his coffee.  He didn’t say anything, afraid that he would spook them.   They would talk about Kirkwall and where the inquisitor was from.   One day as the inquisitor was closing up shop,  Varric asked if them if they wanted to go on a date.  He later took them to Kirkwall to meet his friends.

[thecharmingknightemma]

rules

Hello everyone! I'm sorry if this is long but it's necessary so that you can jump straight into writing with me even if Emma is nearly an oc or a stranger to your muses - and because I'm not English and want to be sure it's all clear. I've been writing for eight years and I'm known to be chill and accommodating but I am also extremely aware of what my preferences and comfort zones are so please read the rules.

My name is Ele, I'm 31, cis woman, super friendly, slow because chronically ill especially when it comes to ooc chat which require too much energy and focus from me, so while I love plotting and commenting threads don't expect ooc chats to be a priority if they aren't fully about the threads. This blog has sideblogs: 'monsterinamusicbox', sosadandyetsoamazing, musesonawhim, and more might come. 

This is an AU Blog so you don't really need to have seen OUAT because this is NOT canon Emma Swan, there is no Storybrooke, and the princess Emma who remembers what was meant to happen in OUAT will let you know everything that you missed; so you'll need to read Emma's bio, either her AU enchanted forest backstory OR the backstory from our world which can fit Marvel, DC and other shows, depending on which character you play (it's awkward to realize the other person has no idea of what I'm writing, like I said, this won't be Emma Swan even in our world, she's been raised by her parents).

There is another backstory for non Enchanted Forest crossovers that doesn't have an abusive ex in it, check it out if the original one is triggering for you. You can request it, no explanation needed.

update of July 26: due to my health and lack of time I can't try to plot with every single mutual even if I follow first, so I ask you to please give me a sign you read my pages and would like to rp. Either by liking my many plotting calls, sending me a meme, liking starter calls, anything will do. Often when I try to plot people haven't read my pages yet or don't reply, and it's a lost occasion to plot with people who are ready. Thank you for your understanding.

WHO I RP WITH

I’m mutuals only and selective. If I don't follow you and you try to rp I'll ignore you, because I get anxious about saying no. If curious you can find reasons why I didn't follow you back here. Memes and opens have no expiration date. Untagged nsfw = I unfollow. Some shows I prefer not to interact with because I don't know them or aren't into some of their themes: vampire diaries, teen wolf, riverdale, gossip girls and any zombie/demons show outside of IZombie, Lucifer and Buffy/Angel.

Between asterisks it's what only people who write ouat characters need to read, the rest is for everyone:

**If your character is involved in her backstory, you have every right to discuss details with me so you won't feel godmodded/forced to adapt to it! I will also change things connected to your ch, for example if I write with a Jefferson, Emma's bff will be Ariel and not Grace. I'd rather not interact with ocs that are supposed to be her siblings or children etc. Henry was never born so if you play Henry we should plot it out because my Emma can’t be pregnant as a kid or she will be a completely different character.**

In this blog due to backstory issues she would want Regina dead so I prefer NOT to interact nor come up with new aus in which she’s fine with it (I have 2 plotted exceptions and that’s enough for me), and same goes for people who are currently villains from any fandom, though in that case we can plot out exceptions in which they aren’t being villains; if they are a grey-area, aren't people who hurt her family, and if you are pro-redemption it's fine, if not Emma wouldn't submit to anyone or bother to chat, she will try to kill them or die, so no threads are really doable. She's also not the type to hang out/bother with characters who are rude to her or to insist if they want her to leave, or to support who keeps manipulating her, hurting people or doesn't seem to be helped by her presence at all but keeps coming to her with pain to share (the latter would get a therapist card). Basically: Killian Jones the way he was written in the show, or even a Rumplestiltskin who found Belle and chose to do better and so on are fine. Villains who will mistreat Emma, have hurt her family, or are currently hunting children for sport? Not good for Emma.

TRIGGERS AND WHAT I WON’T WRITE

Triggers will be tagged ‘name of the trigger tw’, you can always ask me to tag more AND tell me if something in her backstory makes you uncomfortable, so that I can find a solution (that issue is resolved/doesn't need to be mentioned) or tell you if it can't be skipped and you can choose not to write with me. I don’t write about miscarriage, toxic/abusive relationships and rape between my character and yours (temporarily evil due to magic/Dark One Emma being manipulative is fine, but rape is still a no). It’s not exactly a trigger but please tag your gore and body horror? The topic of hell is also complicate, I need you not to focus too much on torture and eternal damnation. And please, PLEASE, tag your daddy kink/mommy kink references ic and ooc. 

MEMES

I’d rather get asks when you want to start a thread, reblog all the memes you want from me. I will reblog from the source or send you one if you prefer it that way but I don’t care if you reblog them from me.

ACTIVITY

Sometimes I'm fast, some I'm slow, but you can have as many threads with me as you want, take your time, reply as much as you want as long as you give me enough to write, drop threads, send memes or not. I like icons but I don't need them to write, you can stop using them whenever. 

NSFW and relationships

NSFW of the smut kind will be tagged as such and usually put under read more. I don’t write smut with everyone, only with people I know ooc/feel comfortable writing it with. I love shipping but I DON'T FORCESHIP, FRIENDSHIPS ARE WELCOMED. My Emma is straight. I do not romantically ship her with Neal/Baelfire even in aus, in her dark witch verse he's a past love Emma Swan had. Happy to find out if a relationship works between my Emma and Killian (my nearly automatic otp if you don't write him darker than in canon), the Huntsman, AU Pinocchio, Jefferson, and more if there is chemistry, but friendship is open to any of them too. Here for crossover ships as well. I’d really appreciate if you could tag your Swan Queen and Swan Thief, thank you.

OTHER FANDOMS I LIKE

Due to potential aus or crossovers, as in princess Emma showing up through a portal or me writing aus to adapt to your fandom, I want to bring up that some of the shows and movies I know are/what she can be in them with small changes to her regular backstory:

AOS (she can easily be inhuman or an alien),

Avengers movies (and at least Thor, Cap, Iron Man and Hulk’s movies), Ant-Man, Captain Marvel (same as above),

the 100 (she’s too happy to be anything but someone who comes from an unknown village or comes from one of the unknown worlds),

Chuck (she can be an ordinary human being, enhanced person/semi-alien depending on who rps the Chuck characters),

Elementary (she can be a regular human or whatever you want)

Flash (she can be a metahuman),

Guardians of the Galaxy (Same as for Marvel),

Legends of Tomorrow (human, alien, metahuman),

Doctor Who (she can be anything),

Firefly: she can be anything (I can also shake things up with her being an alien/having powers OR by coming from the planet where fairy tales are real).

Galavant (same universe as the Enchanted Forest),

Supergirl (she can be an ordinary human or alien),

IZombie (human or zombie),

Lost (she can be anything anything)

Buffy and Angel but only the tvshows (human, witch, one of the many new slayers),

Timeless (human unless the other rper prefers a crossover),

Lord of the Rings (probably just princess Emma portal jumping?)

pretty much any famous sitcom like Friends, the Office, Parks and Rec, b99 (likely she can only be human unless asked otherwise).

Also Lucifer and Good Omens (she could be an ordinary human or it’s more of a crossover in which she comes from her own universe and has magic), and more I can’t think of right now.

[xathia-89]

A Lap Pillow

I spotted Ieyasu trudging through the corridors one morning and looking a lot grumpier than he usually did whilst muttering under his breath. A war council had just finished from all the appearances of the warlords now filtering out, and mostly looking deep in thought. I smiled to myself and slipped into the library, willing to lose myself for a few hours since the castle was running well for now.

I jumped a mile when the quiet atmosphere of the library was disturbed by the door being thrown open, followed swiftly by the trudging of feet that I recognised as Ieyasu’s.

“...scheduling an early morning after tasking me with working late nights...nearly a week barely sleeping...stupid soldiers...dopey chatelaine…” I could hear him muttering, whilst I stayed in my little corner. It would be for the best to leave the blonde to it, until he practically fell onto my lap and book trying to get a volume out from above my head.

I was shocked and locked my eyes with a faintly blushing Tokugawa, who merely grunted and swiftly stood up.

“Looks like you haven’t been sleeping too well,” I nervously opened, trying not to let my mouth run off around Ieyasu. “Nobunaga said that lap pillows are the comfiest things to sleep on when he’s tired, maybe you should try it,” I could feel my regret and embarrassment setting in the second the words left my mouth, and I was trying to not go too red.

“Mm, might as well,” he yawned and gestured for me to go out onto the secluded veranda where the sun had warmed the wood.

I swore my head was going to explode, as Ieyasu looked at me like I was the idiot and made the arm movement for me to sit down. I was trying to not hyperventilate as his head rested against my thighs, I had been so busy with my education and career that I had never been involved with any kind of relationship, so this was an entirely new experience for me. When I had offered my lap, it had been the last thing on my mind that he would accept it. Most of the warlords had their fan clubs, and Ieyasu was no exception, though he chose to ignore his more than anything, and would regularly call out Hideyoshi, Masamune and Mitsuhide on the way they treated their little clusters. I had brought the book I was reading with me at least, as I resumed my fantasy adventure escape.

Ieyasu had already closed his eyes, and his breathing was shallow and steady. He looked so youthful and at ease whilst he was asleep, as I subconsciously started to stroke his hair whilst I read one of the slightly steamier scenes. His locks were silky smooth and it made me feel a little better as silly as it sounded. Then a grumble escaped from the man, and he fidgeted about on the floor a little. My hand froze in the middle of its automated motion, as I was scared that I had woken him from his sleep until he settled back into my lap again.

He’d gained a frown during his movement that disappeared as I resumed the gentle massaging of his scalp and hair. I allowed myself to gaze down on his sleeping form, admiring his good looks as my imagination galavanted off with the possibility of it happening again. I picked up in my book after I realised I had definitely been staring and was privately grateful that I hadn’t been spied by anyone since it would definitely start off a string of teasing that I didn’t think I would be capable of surviving.

“Ieyasu?” Hideyoshi’s voice came from just behind me and made me physically jump as we were caught in the ‘compromising’ position. A small smile appeared on the vassal’s face, whilst the other warlord put his grumpy expression back on his face. “Lord Nobunaga has further information,” he issued, gesturing for the blonde to follow.

He didn’t even glance back or hesitate in leaving me. It was just something I would have to live with, at least he was able to go and do what he needed to now he was rested.

The conversations were getting stranger and stranger as I worked my way around the castle. Ieyasu was appearing everywhere, and catching me off guard as I was usually being asked to fetch heavy objects for Masamune, Nobunaga or Mitsuhide. Hideyoshi would normally appear and then smile at us both as though we’d been caught doing something other than work, which always made me go bright red. If my cheeks weren’t permanently stained after these few days then I would be very lucky as I escaped down into Azuchi one afternoon to go and get some supplies for the seamstresses.

“It’s strange seeing you on an errand without Ieyasu,” Mitsuhide could spot me from a mile off it felt as I looked through the threads and fabrics. His voice was silky smooth, and he was close to encroaching on my personal space. He knew exactly where everyone’s boundaries were, and how to push them, which always made me extra nervous as I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Having a fight?” He mused with a smirk.

I gave him a puzzled expression as I finally handed over the selection of threads and needles required. “No, he’s barely said a word to me. It’s just been very strange that I’d only seen him this week whilst I’ve been doing chores and then suddenly something heavy appears as he does,” I frowned. “And then Hideyoshi normally comes along not long after Ieyasu,” I pointed out, whilst the fabric merchant began to chuckle.

“Lord Mitsuhide is teasing you I believe my Lady,” he laughed. “I think he’s probably been setting you and Lord Ieyasu up,” he pointed out, as I gave him a strange look.

“Always spoiling my fun,” Mitsuhide slipped an arm around my shoulder and immediately spun me around to return to the castle, a snake’s smile on his face as he purposely kept his arm there I felt.

The seamstresses were highly grateful when I returned with more needles and thread. Their project income had been steady and had also managed to deplete the stocks since colours were always a trend. We had plenty of neutral colours and had ended up using them where it could be cleverly hidden in the designs. I was thinking of my kimonos, and then one of the seamstresses chuckled and drew attention to the fact I was biting my lower lip. I went red as I was pushed into the measuring area, and they all took their chances to fuss over me as the Oda Princess. They were all talking excitedly about me catching ‘his’ eye, whilst I felt very confused. I strained to listen to catch a whisper of a name, but the women were far too good. My curiosity was stoked, but I didn’t have the stealth means of getting an answer yet.

Hideyoshi patted me on the head as I emerged from the sewing room, looking glad to see me.

“They’re getting all giddy,” he remarked as we walked back towards my room.

“They’re making me a kimono, I think,” I frowned. “I was just considering asking them if the workload wasn’t too bad. Since I know they’ve been pretty together and on top of it recently, and mine are showing a little sign of wear. Then they were laughing about catching someone’s eye? I couldn’t hear or figure out who they were discussing,” I was so absorbed in what I was saying, I missed that Toyotomi had let out a sigh of relief at the final sentence I uttered. “I didn’t need an escort, but thank you,” I smiled, as we approached my room.

“You hadn’t been seen all afternoon, I wanted to make sure,” he smiled and waved as he left.

I frowned as I checked the library yet again. It had been a few weeks since I had last seen Ieyasu, and I just had the niggling feeling that he wasn’t sleeping properly again. I bumped into Hideyoshi for the nth time and apologised for it.

“Are you looking for Ieyasu?” I asked hopefully. “I haven’t seen him since the last war council,” I frowned.

“He’s in his manor,” the vassal replied, looking surprised.

“I checked there as well,” I sighed. “I’ll just have to hope he’s looking after himself,” I tried to brush it all off with a bright smile and left Toyotomi in the corridor, oblivious to the thoughtful look on his face.

Ieyasu was grumpily having forced company during his research. Hideyoshi, Mitsunari and Masamune had all descended on his manor whilst he was still pouring through books and scrolls regarding the past conflicts with the Tiger of Kai and Dragon of Echigo. He had found out that it was Mitsuhide who had been setting up the meeting traps with the chatelaine and had been successful at avoiding them until he’d accidentally let Hideyoshi in a short while ago, and now had another two warlords with him.  He was trying his best to ignore them all until Hideyoshi was scolding him and simultaneously taking away the research material from the blonde.

“You’re avoiding Natsuki,” the vassal frowned. “She was worried you aren’t taking care of yourself.”

“Why should she be worried?” Ieyasu scoffed and glared at the tray of food that was put in front of him by Masamune. “Mitsuhide seemed fairly comfortable with his arm around her when he brought her back from the market,” his tone holding a hint of bitterness.

Hideyoshi and Masamune shared a look that was missed by the other two men, both Mitsunari and Ieyasu focused on the research in front of them.

I was surprised at the number of councils going on, as I was organising the food to be delivered to the manors as everyone had just filtered out now. I bumped into Ieyasu, and froze up as the warlord then tried to stifle a yawn.

A sigh escaped my lips as I pulled the unexpecting man into a dark turn in the corridor. “Are you not sleeping properly again?” It was a long shot, and I was sounding exasperated to my ears at least.

I was shocked as Ieyasu grunted and ended up pulling me through the short twists and turns to my room. His grip was firm, but there wasn’t any violence in it, as I thought I saw the slightest bit of a blush on his cheeks in the candlelight, but I quickly dismissed it as I realised he wanted to use my lap again to power nap since it was likely there would be an early morning council. I settled next to the open windows I had, after finding a blanket to put over Ieyasu since it was likely there would be a draught if I didn’t prepare. He scoffed at my faffing once I was sorted, and resumed his position with his head in my lap. It was too dark to read this time, my eyes hadn’t adjusted yet to reading the scripts in the manner that Ieyasu, Mitsunari and Mitsuhide would do regularly through the nights when it was needed.

After a few minutes of a suffocating silence, I heard Ieyasu grumble to himself, before speaking up. “Massage my head like last time,” he mumbled, and I could feel myself light up like a firework though I clumsily started combing through his locks.

I didn’t know when I’d started, but I just found myself singing very soft lullabies to fill the silence. It would keep me focused and awake as I alternated my hands to try and lull Ieyasu to sleep. Sleep wasn’t coming easily for the warlord as I was surprised when he grabbed at my hand, and I started stroking the back of his palm to soothe him. It seemed to work with the combination, as his breathing went shallow and steady. I left out a sigh of relief that I didn’t realise I was holding and studied his face. He was exhausted, judging from the bags under his eyes and how pale he actually was.

“I couldn’t stop worrying about you when I didn’t see you for those weeks,” I softly said, stroking his forehead. “You don’t take care of yourself, and I found out that Mitsuhide was pranking me when we were walking into each other all the time,” I paused. “Then after I found out he was messing with us at the fabric stall, he started acting all weird. He draped his arm over my shoulders and kept pulling me against him, though he was doing it because someone was watching since as soon as we were back inside Azuchi, then he just smirked at me like he usually does and disappeared,” I puzzled. “Then you started avoiding wherever I was, and it hurt,” I couldn’t stop my feelings coming out to a slumbering warlord. “I just wanted to see you at any point. Just to make sure you were okay, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I don’t know why,” I murmured, my hand resting in his hair.

“You’re an idiot at times,” I tensed up as Ieyasu spoke, not opening his eyes.

I was pulled down to him, my eyes wide as we kissed.

When we parted for air, Ieyasu had me then pinned to the floor before continuing the kiss. My fingers were tangled in his locks as his knee had my legs apart slightly whilst cradling my head as though it was the most precious thing in existence.

I couldn’t catch my breath or my thoughts. His thumb trailed over my bottom lip as I swallowed the lump in my throat. There was definitely a fire that had been started, but it was the last thing that we also both needed.

“As much as you are going to hate me,” I softly said. “I think we both need some sleep.”

A chaste and loving kiss was the only response before Ieyasu reluctantly dragged himself upright. He offered me a hand and then pulled me in the direction of my futon.

“You didn’t think I’m leaving you at this point, did you?” He smiled.

We settled down under the covers, and then I was pulled against his firm chest in a surprise move. I knew I had to be lit up like a lantern, especially when a chuckle escaped down my ear.

“It’s so cute how you do that,” he murmured, and then kissed my temple before we slipped into sleep.

“Oh, what do we have here?” Mitsuhide sounded very full of himself, as Ieyasu opened the door from my room to the corridor. Akechi was poised to knock for my attention, and both of us were now frozen in place. “Ieyasu appears to have spent the night since that’s exactly the same clothing you were wearing yesterday, and you haven’t brushed your hair,” he sauntered in, and then apparently also knew how to summon Masamune and Hideyoshi.

I hid my cheeks in my hands as Date was chuckling at the scene before him. I was more surprised to not be hearing a lecture from Toyotomi, and the attention in the room turned to the vassal, who had a pleased smile on his face.

“I knew that someone would eventually cave,” he wandered over and patted me on the head, whilst Ieyasu looked just as grumpy about being caught as I looked as embarrassed about it.

“I hate you all,” Tokugawa glowered, and then pulled me into his arms in a territorial manner.

[videogamelover99]

Waking Days Ch.3 - Vegas Lights

A/N Guess this is back you guys. I’m so glad you’ve been patient with me for so long, and finally this chapter is out. I’m hoping to get posting at least once a month now. For now here’s this chapter.  AU by @doodledrawsthings​. Based on @pengychan​‘s Flat Dreams fic. 

“Please tell me that’s not it.” Dipper knelt down in the grass.

“I’m afraid it is.”

“I doesn’t look too bad.” Mabel said, turning her head with a forced smile on her lips.

“It looks horrible.”

“It’ll be okay.”

Stanford laughed at the twins’ bickering, but the laugh was clearly forced. Over the brief period he and his brother visited Dimension 52 the hole grew even more, now taking on a shifting mess of color, glowing an intimidating red that bathed the rest of the tree in an almost demonic hue. Golden thread wove through both sides of the crevice, the physical representation of the effects of the chronometer. It bore close resemblance to a gaping, bleeding wound, held closed by half-attempted stitches. A leftover memory of Bill Cipher’s terror, not that different from what Ford remembered of the Nightmare Realm. It felt wrong just being there.

The Oracle showed up regularly, if it was just to check up on the rift or on the Pines Ford wasn’t sure, but the being soon became an almost normal presence in the household. The visits of his old friend reassured as much as they troubled the scientist. If anything, he should be glad she had agreed to help, but the frequently worried look on her face made Stanford extremely unnerved. If a being with knowledge of the future wore that look, then certainly things weren’t at all good.

If that wasn’t concerning enough, the way Cipher turned tail and left every time Jheselbraum came around certainly was. Ford would almost feel sorry for him if it wasn’t for, well, everything.

Stan, while quite suspicious at first (‘no, she hadn’t tried to possess me. Do you really think I’d fall for that trick again?’) Had quickly warmed up to the oracle. After trying (and failing) to sell some of his junk to her, the conman had somehow decided she was the next best thing since sliced bread.

…

“I’m rich! Finally!”

It was a cool, misty Sunday morning when Stan suddenly burst through the back door, the poor thing squeaking on its hinges, and tossed a packed-looking duffel bag onto the kitchen table. The other members of the Pines family, who just a few seconds ago were eating breakfast, all stared at the new item in bemusement.

“Uh, Grunkle Stan, what’s with the suitcase?” Dipper finally asked, poking the thing lightly with a finger.

“Ooh, are you going on vacation?” Mabel stood on her chair to get a better look.

“We were on a vacation for nine months.” Stanford pointed out, hardly taking his eyes off of the paperback he was reading.

“Oh yeah, but would you really call battling sea monsters every day a real vacation?” Dipper frowned.

“It is for this family.”

“Okay, no, I’m not going on a vacation, though right now that sounds really tempting.” Stan butted in, reaching over Dipper’s shoulder to unzip the duffel bag. Inside was green, and not the kind you find on trees either.

“Wow.” Mabel whistled appreciatively, looking at the bag full of hundred dollar bills in a newfound light.

“Who’d you rob?” Her brother frowned, peering at the cash with a much more wary look.

“Nobody! Nobody that actually needed it, at least.” the old man shrugged.

Ford finally put down the book, eyeing the money. “This isn’t from that pug trafficking incident you told me about, is it?”

“Hey how’d ya guess?”

“Pug trafficking?” Mabel now looked a lot less awed.

“Hey, don’t worry, Sweetie! I promise no dogs were harmed. Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout…” Ford muttered, once again picking up his book.

“So anyway, I’m rich. Who knows what I’m going to do with it?”

“Buy a really expensive perfume?”

“Build a new room for Soos.”

“OOH! Buy a trained tiger!”

“Great pitches kids, but nah.” Stan grabbed one of the handles, pulling the money closer. “There’s one place I’ve been dying to go to. Hadn’t been there since my marriage.”

“You got marri-”

“Anyway, waddaya say, Sixer? Ready for some nightlife? Babes? Action?”

Stanford slowly put the book down, and met his twin’s gaze with his own, steely one. “The universe is falling apart at the seams. Our enemy is living under our roof. And you want to drag me to- to- that-”

“Wow, way to ruin the fun. After thirty years in sci-fi land I’d expected ya to lighten up already.”

“You’re sixty, Stan, not exactly ideal age to go gambling, and we don’t have time for this.” The scientist stood up, tucking his paperback under his arm. “I’m going downstairs to figure out how to save the world. Again. You can do whatever you want.” And just like that, he left, leaving his three family members staring at each other in silence.

“Okay, I coulda handled that better.”

“Uh, Grunkle Stan? Why exactly did you want to take Grunkle Ford to Vegas?” Dipper asked.

“Okay, so, I may or may not owe a giant sum of money to someone-”

“Of course.” Dipper rolled his eyes.

“And gun-slinging backup doesn’t hurt...Also fun.”

“I don’t think he’s the type, Grunkle Stan.” Mabel stated sadly.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Bill is.” Dipper mused.

“Wow, okay, no. Could ya imagine having that monstrosity on a road trip? Ugh, I don’t even wanna think about it.”

The girl snorted. “Yeah, I think I can.”

“Speaking of which, where is the little creeper gone?”

“Uh…” The twins shared a look. Mabel shrugged helplessly. “We should probably find him before he burns down the forest or something.”

“Good point.” And with that the two disappeared, leaving Stan alone with an unfinished piece of toast and a bag full of illegal cash.

“Huh. Is that something I should be concerned about?”

Stanley whirled around, bag suddenly clutched to his chest. “Jesus Christ, lady, give an old man a warning!”

Jheselbraum (he got it right, right?) raised an eyebrow, folding her arms and leaning casually on the edge of the table. “Strange, I do not think that man knew his name was going to turn into something explicit. But I suppose it happens.”

“I- what?”

“Nevermind.” The oracle turned her attention to the bag. “And I’m guessing that was 100% legally acquired?” She couldn’t quite hide the amusement in her voice.

“Oh yes. Absolutely.” Stan gave her a sarcastic grin. That grin slipped away quickly, however, as the cogs in his brain began to turn, suddenly giving him an idea as he eyed the woman in front of him. “Say, what’s yer opinion on road trips?”

…

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” The alien in the shotgun seat shifted uncomfortably, struggling her best to say annoyed. Stan brought the car into the left lane, quickly passing a truck on the side.

“Really? Ya didn’t exactly seem that reluctant goin’.”

“I- We should be working on closing the rift, not, not galavanting on some weekend quest to pay off a guy you stole from.”

“Hey, who said anything about stealing? I was borrowin’.”

“And i suppose the death threats that he leaves in your voice mail are friendly banter?”

“Aw, you’re being sarcastic. And here I thought you were a stick in the mud.”

“...” Nora sat back in her seat, tossing one leg over the other, and stared out the window. Bits of Oregon wildlife flew past them, forrest green melting into a choppy blir as the car flew by at a grand total of 50 miles an hour. The Stanleymobile really needed to upgrade.

It didn’t take long for Stanley to admit the real reason he was reluctant to go alone. Apparently he was completely willing to blow all of his money by himself. No, what got him concerned about bringing Stanford was not company as much as muscle. Owing a lot of money to a crime boss apparently did that to you.

“And what exactly do you want me to do?” She frowned. “Sit there and look pretty?”

“We-ell.” Stan paused, scratching his cheek with one hand, the other resting on the steering wheel. “You can see the future, right?”

“It’s not that simple.” She frowned. “Also sorry for not seeming that excited, but if you were planning to use that to win some easy money, you’re out of luck. My vision doesn’t work that way.”

“And what’s ‘that way’?”

“Complicated.”

“Fine.”

There was silence. Nora didn't really know why she was so antagonistic toward Stanley. So far, the human hadn’t done anything that would deserve it, if the whole using-her-for-gambling thing didn’t count. But there was something in the back of her mind, an itch that was scratching at her, telling her that the man next to her was not what he seemed.

That was truly ridiculous. She looked into his and his brother’s timeline many times. She knew him, just like the rest of the Pines, like the back of her hand. And yet-

Maybe she just wasn’t used to the company. Back in her own dimension, the Oracle had many people with whom she’d conversed. Many came to the mountain to seek her guidance, and the company was always welcome. But there was always some barrier, a wall between her and the other that prevented her from truly- what? Connecting? She was always there to get wisdom and assistance. It was a long time before she could just speak to someone, without needing to be that.

It felt refreshing, but also slightly off-kilter.

“Y’know, that’s not the only reason I wanted to bring Sixer.” Stan’s voice made the woman turn back to him, her thoughts pushed back into a jumbled mess for the time being.

“Oh?”

“He just- hasn’t been sleeping for a while, y’know? And I thought- ‘hey, great idea. Let’s get him to ignore the second end of the world for a while’. Didn’t exactly work, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Nora sighed through her nose. “Your brother isn’t like that. You know it.”

“Yeah...yeah.”

“He’s very determined. Very passionate. That isn’t a bad thing.” The woman brought her hands up to fiddle with her pendant, lost in thought. “But it can easily get out of hand.”

“Yeah, I get what ya mean.” Stan frowned, staring straight at the road ahead. “You know, he called me too old to go gambling.”

The woman paused for a moment. “I am one trillion years old, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Huh...wow. Uh...you look younger than your years?”

“Thanks.”

“Though maybe if you stop dressing like it’s the war time…”

The oracle frowned, wrinkling out her skirt. “What’s wrong with the way I dress?”

“Nothing! Way better than wearing a wizard robe, anyway. Just looks like you came straight from the 1940s, is all.”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh hey, by the way, it’s Nora, right?”

“...yes.”

“Huh.” Stan snorted. “Knew a gal named Nora once. Real pain in my ass. You’ve got a lot in common.

Nora rolled her eyes. “Keep driving.”

“Sure thing.”

…

The first thing to assault her eyes were the lights. Hundreds of them, bright neon and colorful, hanging on buildings, advertising food, hotels, casinos. People stood on the sidewalks and threw pamphlets at tourists and passersbys, cards containing contact info of strippers and nightclubs, people yelling, cars honking aggressively, music blaring from hidden speakers, fountain jets raining down, illuminated by multicolor lights. There was so much, too much, it was overwhelming- Nora couldn’t look away. That man on the street- wife walked out on him, having a midlife crisis, taking it out on the girl next to him. The girl- adulterer, before she was even eighteen, raised in the middle of nowhere, wanted a life. What she got was angry drunkards and little pay. The woman on the street, tugging her child after her- married, on vacation, is about to meet her oldest daughter after a year apart. Every person, every place and every conversation had something to offer her, a troubled past, and hopeful or depressing future...She was used to this, used to the rapid fire of her predictions, fates intertwining, alternating, branching out into infinite different scenarios. But there was just so much...

“So, uh, what’d ya think? Worth the trip?”

Nora jumped, whipping around to look at Stanley hero, brother, savior, liar- “Uhh, it’s...something?”

“Come on! City of chance, of risk and it’s ‘something’?”

“It’s just...it’s a lot.”

…

After hustling into the hotel, via underground parking, Stan elbowed his way through the long, carpeted corridors of the hotel lobby, his companion trailing a few paces behind him, looking around at the crowd with wide eyes. The receptionist at the desk eyed both of them with a bored expression. Checking in was the easy part. Trying not to get jumped by a crime boss was another. Stan eyed his phone as he led Nora to the elevators, the bag of cash, discretely covered up by as stack of dirty clothes, over his shoulder. Floor 19 7pm. See me. The vague text sent an uncomfortable prickling feeling down his spine. He’d faced the end of the world, and yet the threat of organized crime still rubed him the wrong way. Call it bad memories. Being stuck in the trunk of a car for 31 hours could do that. He needed to make this quick and high tail outta here. And, Stan quickly reassured himself, he wouldn’t exactly be alone.

Though looking over at the oracle, who now eyed the fancy furniture and decoration with with annoyance, Stan wondered just how much faith he could put in his new inter-dimensional buddy. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, per say, hell, he’d trust her over the angry yellow demon any day. Still, there was something off about her. Something that Stanley’s instincts had to remind him constantly of. Just how much did Ford really know about this woman? And who said she was who she said she was? Call him paranoid, but when was he not? Came with the trade, so to speak.

“So who are you meeting with? And how much can I bet on your survival?” Nora jumped up on the bed, the obscene amount of comforters bouncing under her weight.

“Nice to get some reassurance for once. And couldn’t you just look and see, anyway? Don’t you know the future?”

“I could…” she shrugged, “but it wouldn’t tell me anything. Not really.”

Well that was vague as hell.

The man grumbled, shouldering his duffel bag. “So your one superpower is basically useless. Well why the hell did I bring ya here then?!”

“That’s what I’ve been asking.”

Stan sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Look, just...I’ma go and had ‘im the cash, hopefully won’t get jumped, and you, uh...do whatever you wanna do. I don’t know, watch TV or something.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“What question? Okay, bye!”

And he ran out, slamming the door behind him as he did.

…

He did not find the guy. The vague text message was the only thing he got, and after about an hour of scouting the corridor of Floor 19 Stan finally gave up and shrugged it off, deciding that the cash should be good for something, and made his way downstairs for the one thing this place was truly famous for.

...

“Hey buddy.”

Stan scraped up his tokens and grinned at the speaker lazily. “Yeah?”

The man looked like he was in his late thirties, his face still free of any wrinkles. Dark hair framed his long, oval-shaped face, a pair of expensive-looking spectacles sitting on his hook-shaped nose. “I see you’ve got quite a streak going. I won’t bother you, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in a game against me?”

“What kinda game?”

The man grinned, a golden tooth glinting in the dim lighting. “A game of opportunity.”

“Huh.” Stan watched the man grab a free table, sitting down and gesturing at the older man to follow suit. “I think I like ya already.” He sat down opposite. “So what d’ya want to bet on? Start small?”

The man was still smiling, something that Stan would find unnerving without the buzz of alcohol. “Oh no. There’s a loss far worse than money you can recover. Of course, I’d be needing the same in return.” He leaned in closer. “Time is much more precious than money, my friend.”

It was poker. It was literally just poker, and looking back, Stan kinda wished it wasn’t. Looking at a mystical game of chess or some kind of enchanted contest of weirdness would at least be bearable. His ego would still be intact. But poker? No, even the price of what he lost could not compare to just how humiliated he felt losing at the thing he was best at. But Stan lost, and the man just swept up all at chips, the subdued smile never leaving his stupid, pointy face. “Such a shame, really. I had honestly hoped I’d finally found a worthy opponent. You were close, my friend, but them’s the breaks.”

Stan briefly tore his hands away from his face to sigh, looking at everything but the man. “So what? You said we weren’t betting on cash. Just tell me what ya want so I can go already, you sleazy bastard.”

The man’s face warped into something truly sinister, his smirk spreading across his face. “I already took it, my friend.”

Suddenly, Stan felt like he was hit on the head with something impossibly heavy. Everything spun, his limbs felt incredibly weak, and as he stood up on wobbly legs he felt his spine curve downward a lot more than before. His eyesight was just awful, and it didn’t clear even as he rubbed his eyes. The skin on his hands felt thin and papery, and as the man slowly stumbed out of his seat and towards the hotel elevator, he knew that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

...

While Stanley went off on his quest to pay back what appeared to be the mafia, Nora realized there wasn’t really anything to do for her, not really. Watching television was like subjecting herself to a primitive form of mind-control. She could, of course, meditate, but that grew harder and harder the more time she spent on earth. Everything else was too distracting, too bright and loud for her to find that small empty space to bury her thoughts in. They just came crashing back in after she dispersed them, assaulting her with visions and worries and questions that she, for once, did not want answers to. She’d agreed to come here, why? To get away from Bill, was the immediate answer, but that didn’t work out the way she had wanted it to. Now instead of Bill there was Stanley. Stanley, who argued and made poor excuses and laughed at his won lame jokes in a way that made Nora’s heart ache. It was new, but incredibly familiar, like a case of deja-vu that did not end in a few seconds, but only strengthened every time Stan threw some banter her way. Honestly she’d have preferred Bill sulking around somewhere to this, this open interaction she didn’t have for so, so many years. It wasn’t until Ford’s brother left that she could finally start to sort it all out in her own head.

There was some scrambling behind the door. Nora sighed, opening her eyes. For a second she thought it was the mafia, but as the rest of her five eyes granted her a brief vision, she realized that was not the case. Something was terribly wrong.

The Oracle flung the door open, and a man tumbled into her, almost bringing both of them to the ground. A raspy voice whispered curses under his breath, and Nora finally recognized her human friend. Slowly, she closed the door with her free hand, using the other to help the man onto the bed. 

...

“What. Did you do.”

“We-ell, I, uh, hey you know how it is. The city of lights and all that, hadda at least give it a go-” There was a cough, but the voice did not clear up, just as ragged.

“...”

“A-and look, I thought I had pretty good odds, y’know? Been here more than you can count, have way more luck than imaginable, so, y’know…”

“Stanley, please tell me you didn’t make a bet with a god.”

Stan looked to the side, hands fiddling on his lap, and tried to ignore the sudden vicious pain in his back. And the ache in his joints. And the sudden rattle that appeared in his breath. “I can explain.”

Nora glared at him, the pointed look twice as terrifying. “Oh yes please do.”

“So, uh, there was this guy-”

“Oh who am I kidding! I should have known you would do this.” The woman threw her hands up, pacing back and forth in the suite. “I did know you would do this. But I didn’t- I didn’t think this you would be that stupid.”

“Alright, point taken! Now would ya stop trying to insult me every five sec- agh!” The con-man hunched over, his speech suddenly interrupted but a long coughing fit. It tore at his throat and made his chest ache like nothing he had ever felt before. Great. This is how I die. Over a stupid bet.

Wasn’t that how he expected to die, anyway?

The Oracle rolled her eyes, waiting until the hacking stopped and Stan regained his breath. “Right, don’t talk.”

“I got it.” He whined back, his body still fighting to cough up his own lungs.

“So, there was a man? And I suppose he offered you a drink?”

Stan shook, pounding his chest with all the strength his now frail arms could give him. “Was already drunk.”

A frustrated sigh. “And I suppose after you got hammered he offered you a deal?”

“A bet.” he coughed out.

Nora sighed. “But not for money.” She sat down next to him, shoulders hunched over.

“Oh yeah! He said somethn’ all mysterious-y, something like ‘You have-’”

“A loss far worse you can recover.” She finished for him. “I know what timeline this is.”

“Yeah, exactly that...You’re worse than my mother.”

She cracked a smile. “I’m an oracle. I’m worse than anyone’s mother.” Then she frowned. “You look terrible, by the by.”

“Thanks, I kinda guessed.” Stan slowly slid off the couch, straightening his back and heading toward the bathroom at a steady pace. “Well, time to see how well I-”

The scream and crash that came out from behind the door startled Nora to her feet. “Are you alright?”

“I’m hideous!”

“Well, yes.”

His hair was white. Pure white, like a blank sheet of paper or the way the goat looked whenever Mabel was in a mood for playing dress-up. It was still there, thank God, but looked a lot thinner than it did only a few hours ago. The wrinkles that started showing up around the time he hit 40 were somehow only deepened, the now grey-ish skin sagging in places and folding up in others. What was once his face now seemed wrong, an unwarranted glimpse into what he should not be able to see, a punch of an existential crisis right in the gut, a-

“Stanley? Are you alright in there?”

Stan slowly backed away from the mirror, away from- that, shuffling out  of the bathroom with more effort than should have been necessary.

Nora stared up at him from the edge of the bed.

“I think I just aged thirty years in one day. And man, I wish that was a joke.”

The Oracle sighed, casting her eyes somewhere Stan couldn’t follow, “You’d bartered on the thirty years you wanted back. And you lost.” She stared at him dead in the eye. “What did you think would happen?”

“I didn’t think anything! That guy-” Stan cut himself off, doubling into a wracking cough that made his aged body hurt in all the places he didn’t know he had.

“Careful, don’t have a heart attack, you’re ninety-two already.” Nora muttered under her breath, and the man wondered if that was a joke, too. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen.” She stood up, carefully guiding Staney to the armchair in the corner, helping him sit. “You are going to stay here, and hopefully not die by the time I get back. And I,” she stepped back, something settling in her gaze that made the con man shift a little. It was at that moment that he really saw something ancient before him, more ancient than even he felt like right now, and that thought chilled him to the bone. “I’m going to fix this.”

Stan blinked. “Got a plan more detailed than that?”

“Yes.”

“...Care to explain.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “The man that aged you, he’s most likely a lesser god or some kind of spirit. I’ve seen a couple of his type before, but never this bold. Anyway, their ‘deal’ is time. More correctly, lifespan. They barter and bet on the victim’s years, the mortal hoping to gain a few more decades on this plane of existence. Of course, it’s rigged, and the mortal always loses. This kind of gambling, ‘life gambling’, is banned in about 5 billion dimensions. This one as well. Still, I suppose Earth is remote enough to not me noticed by interdimensional relations. Or so they thought.”

“So, okay, he’s some kind of demon life gambler? What’s the point of taking time away though? Does he sell it?”

The Oracle smiled. “No, though that would be a feat to see. They consume it, the life force they take from people. Old gods have so few followers that their powers deplete to almost nothing. The only way they can keep themselves immortal is feeding off regular people.” She shrugged. “Though some of them do it for fun. Life force is still a lot of energy, after all.”

“And you’re- what? Gonna call the space cops on him? Take him for a night on the town?”

“Honestly, who do you take me for?” The Oracle straightened up, turning to head out the door, a smile already forming on her lips. “I’m going to beat him at his own game.”