#wolfling replies

[ohwolfling]

@theletteraesc replying to this post about Wyll

I appreciate when a game makes me make a hard choice/gives me no good choice to drive home its themes. I wish anything around Duke Ravengard felt like that.

Having Florrick meet you at camp one time, seeing Karlach talk with Wyll about looking like what some consider a beast, things like this would've added a complexity to both Wyll's daddy issues and beauty/beast complex perfectly in the lead up to making a decision about freeing Wyll vs saving his father.

Even if we never got that, I wish Wyll ever hit a breaking point. We see Shadowheart try to be perfect for Shar at the cost of her humanity. We see Lae'zel frame herself as the potential for violence instead of a person. We see Gale grapple with what is or isn't ambition or fear or love or a calling. We NEVER see Wyll confront what his father is or isn't. We never see him question on his own terms what the Blade of Frontiers is or isn't.

And I think that, sadly, in a game with such incredible nuance and narrative consistency with trauma it falls into the horrible trap of thinking parental abuse/neglect is somehow different than it coming from a stranger. The narrative leaves the tapestry of that relationship private, just as our social norms encourage abused kids to keep family issues private.

I acknowledge that Wyll's story suffered from being recast and rewritten but even in that there's a clear refusal to consider that Ulder Ravengard did significant harm and so no exploration of where it is or isn't justified, where it is or isn't a tragedy.

[ohwolfling]

thank you to @galesenchantedpanties for tagging me in the replies but my replies still aren't working and tumblr support is.... hmmmm.

Here is my AO3 and for Galemancers I currently have -

Gale Dekarios Deserves A Bl*w J*b fan fic, titled beautifullest, fragilest.

Gale Dekarios Eats P*ssy So Good You Enter A Liminal Space, titled i'm licking wounds, i'll lay you down.

Smutty Prompt Turned Regency Era Misunderstandings Oral, titled you're spring to me, all things to me.

Some Light Bondage Mage Hand Teasing, a one shot from the prompt, "You know, no one would believe me if I told them how much of a tease you are," that is yet to be placed on AO3 because I'm going to expand it into a fuller piece before I drop it there!

I also currently have have commissions open for poetry and personalized fic over on my ko-fi page!

luv u, galemancers, can't wait to dig into some of those recs myself <3

Recommend me a good fanfic about our dear wizard, pleaseeeee

I'm sorry my dear but I think I'm going to have to disappoint this time. Unfortunately I haven't had a lot of free time or bandwidth for fanfic reading lately so I have no recommendations handy.

I do, however, have a few followers who are also big Gale simps (I mean why else are you all here after all?) and I bet they'll have read a good fic or two!

If anyone could help us out with some recs, I'd be forever grateful.

[magicofsimplestories]

4. Fate and how it finds you

Cassandra liked it in Moonwood. Her every morning started from making breakfast and having it with Lou. 

Afterwards she either had her university online studies or headed to the local library to teach literature and language to the little wolflings, while Lou was hunting, fishing or making furniture. 

They spent afternoons together hiding from the hottest hours of the day at the Moonlake and exploring local cliffs at the sunset. 

During the first two weeks of her life in Moonwood Cassandra managed to research half of the ancient history section of the library but so far found nothing that could be useful either in tracking Bella or finding a cure to lycanthropy. Moreover, she kept stumbling upon some parts of the text written in weird symbols that, according to Wolfgang, were the Language of the Moon that only spellcasters and werewolves were able to read. 

That Sunday morning Cassandra woke up a bit later than usual. She would’ve slept longer but the sounds of a conversation coming from the kitchen made her open her eyes. She dressed up slowly and headed out of the room guessing whom Lou was talking to. 

“No way,” she hissed seeing a familiar tanned dark-haired young man sitting at the table with Lou. “What the hell is this traitor doing here?” She screamed at Lou. 

Jacob Volkov was faster to reply. He stood up and met her angry glare. 

“I came with peace, Cassie,” he said. “I ordered some furniture from Lou.”

“DO NOT Cassie me!! You’d better take your ass out of here, ‘cause if not, I do not guarantee that you leave in one piece!” Roared Cassandra making one aggressive stop forward. 

“Wow-wow, princess,” intervened Lou stepping in between Cassandra and Jacob. “I know you’re rightfully mad at Jacob but you’re one community now and you’d better learn to co-live.” 

“Or what?” Spitted Cassie crossing her arms on the chest. 

“My father doesn’t like conflicts,” responded Jacob and regretted it immediately. 

“Your father!” Fired Cassandra. “Does your father know that you attended the prom with me but f*cked another girl there? Your father!”

She wanted to rain upon Jacob’s head more angry swears but he was first to speak. 

“He knows,” he said making Cassandra freeze with the simplicity of his tone. 

“Fantastic,” she grumbled after a couple of tense moments.

“And he was disappointed,” added Jacob. “But he knows that I had a reason.”

“Oh, really?!” Bursted out Cassandra. “What the hell of a reason there could be for cheating?!”

“I will tell you if you agree to meet this afternoon and listen,” said Jacob. “Calmly and peacefully,” he added watching bitter fury flames in her brown eyes. 

She didn’t respond right away, burning Jacob with an angry meaningful glare. 

“Fine,” she said finally. “I am giving you a chance to explain.”

“I’m proud of you, Cassie,” said Lou after Jacob left. “Forgiveness is one of the most generous gestures of all.”

“I’ve not decided on forgiveness yet,” grumbled Cassandra heading to the kitchen but Lou smiled knowing that she actually has already decided. 

Jacob met her at the exit of the library right after her class with the wolflings and offered to hide from the afternoon heat in the soft shadow of the forest not far from Lou’s shack. They left the village center and crossed the noisy mountain river in silence with Jacob walking slightly behind Cassandra. He offered to have a seat at a lonely old wooden bench overlooking a gardening lawn and they sat in silence for a couple more minutes before Jacob finally spoke. 

“I owe you an explanation, Cassandra,” he said. 

“First of all, Volkov, you owe me an apology,” interrupted him Cassie narrowing her eyes. 

“Yes, this too,” he nodded. “I’m sorry I broke your heart. I should’ve listened to mine more carefully.”

Facing Cassandra’s questioning look he went on. 

“I mistook friendship for fate.” 

“For fuck’s sake, Jacob, stop talking in riddles,” said Cassandra impatiently. 

“I though you were my fated mate but I was wrong. Annie is my fate, and I’m hers. We realized it on the prom night, and we couldn’t help the attraction.”

“What does “fated mate” mean?” 

“Sorry, I should’ve explained it first. It’s a werewolf term. Every wolf is destined to have only one love of his life. Those who are lucky find this love. Those who are not spend their life alone. Annie and I were lucky. We married and she’s expecting now.”

He looked at Cassandra. Her expression was calm, and she was thoughtfully studying the soft sunlight coming down through the trees. 

“Is Annie a werewolf too?” She asked after a short moment of silence. 

“No, she’s still human.”

“Isn’t it dangerous for her to carry your child?”

“Well, I believe you know that my mother is a spellcaster. She will make sure Annie is fine.”

And yet she wasn’t that eager to help Lou’s mother at the time. I wonder why. Missis Volkov, I’m dying to meet you. 

There was another question swirling in her head now, and she looked at shack’s direction impatiently. 

“All right,” said Cassandra out loud. 

“All right?” Asked Jacob in confusion. 

“What else am I supposed to tell you, Jacob?” Replied Cassie giving the young man a serious look. “You broke my heart. You say you had a reason. All right. I take it.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“Is it really that important to you?”

“Yes, we are one community now.”

“Fine. I forgive you, Jacob.”

“Can we stay friends?”

Cassie rolled her eyes irritably. 

“Let’s start from neighbors,” she shook her head. 

“Sure.”

“See you around, Jacob,” she said standing up from the bench and starting for the shack. 

“See you around, Cassie,” she heard Jacob’s response to her back. 

She found Lou at his woodworking table in the back garden. He smiled at her putting away the tape-measure. 

“Is Jacob alive?” He asked with a wide smile. 

“Your Jacob is fine,” snorted Cassie making Lou’s smile wider. “Is Rory your fated mate?”

He froze with a saw in his one hand and a piece of wood in another. 

“Wha… Where did you learn this term, Cassie?” He asked confusedly. 

“Jacob,” responded Cassandra shortly. “So is she?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Why of course? She’s an attractive person.”

“We grew up together, we are childhood buddies, best friends, but there has been no romance behind it. Never.” 

“Do you have a fated mate?” 

“Why do you ask?”

By Lou’s miserable expression she could understand that the conversation was bringing him a lot of uneasiness, and that was making Cassandra only firmer in the intention to learn the truth. 

“I like being inappropriate,” she responded. “So have you met your fated mate?” 

“Yes,” he breathed out after a moment on tense hesitation. 

“Is it a wolf?” 

“No.” 

“Is this person around?” 

He sighed again.

“She actually is.” 

“Do I know her?” 

“Yes.” 

“Who is she?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“Why?” 

He made another uneasy pause looking away. 

Come on, mister Howell. What else are you hiding?

“Cause I do not deserve her,” he said finally and his voice cracked.  

“What a nonsense!” She spitted.  

“Cassie, I don’t want to talk about it,” he cut her off putting the saw and the wood piece down loudly.

“Why?” 

“Cause I don’t!” He tried to sound irritated but she could clearly see sorrow in his eyes that he was hiding from her unsuccessfully. “And by the way, you’re being highly inappropriate!” He tried to counter attack but Cassandra smiled only.

“Inappropriate is my middle name.” 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed out and without saying any other word headed to the shack, leaving Cassandra guess if the tickling feeling that has been bothering her was just curiosity or something else. Something that was making her follow his muscled silhouette dive into the waters of the lake in awe or her heart speed up feeling his warmth on the top of the local cliff.

[Part I] [Beginning] [Back] [Next]

[eggsinthecity]

in which you take a lovely stroll with kaidan and the boiz - nothing happens at all

"I'm freezing my balls off, why the fuck are we going to Dawnstar again?" Tarelyn rolls her eyes as the gruff voice trailing behind her inching closer.

"What, Kaidan? You don't want to relive that time you -" Vilkas starts before he is so rudely interrupted by a snowball hitting the back of his head.

Tarelyn's brow quirks up as she stops to face Kaidan. She crosses her arms over her chest and plants her weight firmly into her right hip. "No, no, I would love to hear the rest of that," she prods. "Please, enlighten me with the misadventures of Sir Broods-A-Lot."

Ever since Vilkas and Farkas decided that their little wolfling needed more protection than what Kaidan could offer, the lore of this mysterious Akaviri man has begun to emerge - and Tarelyn found herself craving every bit. It seemed like each town and tavern had seen a side of him that she was so rarely afforded, and each new story was like a treasure that she greedily held close.

It was clear the brothers and Kaidan had a...colorful history together, and Tarelyn wanted to hear every minute detail. Only to use as ammunition should she need it later, of course. She definitely didn't want to learn more and more about the man who stood fast in front of her, hair rustling in the slight breeze, nose tipped with red from the cold, eyes focused on her...chest? No, surely she imagined that.

"If you keep biting your lip like that, little wolf, you're going to gnaw it off." Farkas lets out a chuckle as he passes between his two companions who were definitely not (certainly were) yearning in broad daylight.

Tarelyn shakes her head and slaps his shoulder, only barely missing the blush creeping onto Kaidan's cheeks. Yeah, that's not from the cold.

Catching up to Farkas, she wraps her arms around his elbow and meets his pace and leans her temple on his shoulder. "Farkas, you know you're the favorite brother, right?" she coos sweetly, just out of earshot of the others.

"Whatever it is, I don't want any part of it." The reply is coarse, but she knows he can't turn down a bit of fun - especially if it comes at Kaidan's expense.

Looking up at him with the most innocent face she could muster, she continues. "I was just wondering what's got Kaidan all worked up about Dawnstar. I need to be prepared for every possible situation - isn't that what you always tell me?" And then, for emphasis, "You're usually right about that, I'm just trying to take your advice."

A dimple appears as the Companion's smile grows, and Tarelynn knows she won this round. If there's anything that Farkas and Vilkas love more than ale, it's embarassing Kaidan - especially when their little sister is involved.

His unshaved cheek rests on top of her head, tone laced with guile as he relents. "When we get to the tavern, ask the barkeep if they have any horker sandwiches." He chuckles and lays a gentle kiss on the top of her head. If there was anyone that was worth the impending drunken brawl for, it would be Tarelyn.

"You've just earned yourself a sweet roll," she replies, returning his peck with one to his shoulder and taking the lead towards the inn.

"Should I be concerned about that?" Kaidan asks Vilkas, who was alreading guessing as to what that exchange was about. His reply of "Probably," was drowned out by two saccharine "Nopes", and Kaidan groaned, knowing this encounter would be nothing less than pleasant. Still, he couldn't help but enjoy the sight of the Dragonborn gleefully heading towards the covered front porch of the Windpeak Inn.

~

Tarelyn pushes open the wooden door of the tavern, sighing delightedly as the hearth's warmth drove away the biting cold on her face. "Come on in, I just stoked the fire," called the barkeep - a tall, stocky Nord man no older than 50. She took off her gloves and laid them on the hearthstone to dry, taking one last devious look toward Kaidan. Scarlett eyes narrowed at her from where he leaned against the far wall, and she practically bounced over to the bar, giddy to set her plan in action.

"Names Thoring, welcome to the Windpeak Inn. What can I get for you?" the man asks as he finishes wiping out a clean mug and places it in front of her. His face, though hardened by the harsh northern climate, was kind. The honest sort of kind that used to grace many a Nord face, though it was a comfort not afforded by most since Ulfric's uprising.

Unfortunately, Thoring, you must be part of my plot. I'll pay you well for your troubles, she thought to herself. He may look to be a welcoming man, something sure to change after what she said next.

"Nice to meet you, Thoring. My companions and I have been on the road a while, and we're absolutely famished. Would you happen to have any horker sandwiches prepared?" Tarelyn had to hold back her laughter as a sudden cough came from the back of the inn, along with two low, snickering whispers.

The man's face fell as he spotted Kaidan doubled over in his seat, ale dripping down his chin as he fails to recover from the shock and catch his breath. Turning back to Tarelyn, there was no doubt of his feelings towards the spluttering man. "No. I don't have any horker anything for you or your friend over there. Now get him out of my tavern before we have a repeat of the last time!"

Trying (and failing) to maintain a straight face, she thanked him for his time, left a few septims on the bar, and gathered her friends. As they waltzed towards the exit, Kaiden downtrodden between the three of them, their laughter filled the room and followed them into the bitter cold of the early evening.

"Aye, you just had to tell her about the horkers!" he exclaimed, face redder than a tomato and eyes brimming with disdain. He didn't seem to find their antics nearly as funny as the trio did, and all three doubled over in a fit of giggles.

Wiping tears out of her eyes, Tarelyn followed Kaidan and the brothers as they found a place nearby to set up camp.

~

"It's not horker, but it's pretty damn tasty," said Farkas between mouthfulls of the salmon steak and grilled leeks Tarelyn had prepared.

"You're right, brother, it may not stick to my bones like a bowl of horker stew, but at least our sister can cook almost as well as Tilma," Vilkas added. The glares from Kaidan did not go unnoticed, even as he got himself a second (and a half) serving of the meal.

Tarelyn sat down next to him, her knees a hairs breath away from his (don't think about it), and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, Kai, I don't think he seemed that angry with you! We may have better luck again tomorrow."

Large, rough fingers trapped her hand against him, making her gasp. She tried to steel her expression as cold eyes bore into hers, and the deep rumbling of his voice filled her ears and tightened her throat. "We will not be going back to the tavern, little Dragon." He released her hand, and she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Nope, don't think about the way his hand felt around yours. Just go back to eating dinner. This was not the time to think about those feelings, especially with her two brothers sitting across from them pretending to act like they didn't notice. Gods, they knew how to extinguish a flame....

"Sure Kai, whatever you say," she joked, hoping he didn't hear the waver in her voice.

~

As she cleared off the wooden dishes and packed away the cooking supplies, she felt him before she heard him. Warmth bloomed across her skin, and she was increasingly aware of his eyes on her.

"You can help, you know," she said without turning from her task, lest her reddening face betray her false bravado. There was no way in Oblivion she would let him know just how deeply he got under her skin, though she had an inkling he already knew.

Her skin prickled as he came up behind her, his large hands gripping her biceps with just enough force to stop her movements. Kaidan's breath tickled the shell of her ear, and she couldn't help but lean back into him, though she held back the sigh that threatened to slip past her lips.

"Two can play at that game, Sunshine," he growled, his voice challenging and full of something she dare not hope she heard. She gasped as he nipped the lobe of her ear, and then he was gone - the chill of the night returning to embrace her.

She didn't know what to expect next, but judging by the way he sat back with her brothers, she knew she was in for trouble.

[ohwolfling]

This is so sweet of you to say 😭

Crazy how there's only one (1) ONE fafiction I've ever genuinely wanted to print and bind and it's @ohwolfling 's GODDAMN Gale BJ fic....

What has he (Gale) done to my brain..

It's this btw

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Coming Home || Ariana & Ulfric

TIMING: Shortly after (x). Previously (x) and (x) PARTIES: @big-bad-ulf & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: After the events of the evening, Ariana finally makes her way home and has a heart to heart with Ulf.  CONTENT WARNINGS: Family death

The jacket Carrington had given her was wrapped tightly around her body as she walked back up to the trailer. Ariana hoped Ulfric was home by now. It had dawned on her during their walk that he likely had to deal with the bodies and as much made her feel queasy. This had been her fault. If she hadn’t been drinking, she would’ve heard them coming. They wouldn’t have been able to sneak up on her like that and they could have gone in together. Instead, she’d made a bad choice that put them at a disadvantage and because of it, she’d never see Celeste again. Part of her was filled with dread to return to the room they shared. Even though they’d been sharing a small space, she had no doubt it’d feel empty with her absence.

She gave Carrington a wave and walked up the property line in quiet. Looking up, she could vaguely see Ulf atop the trailer. It was a small comfort, seeing him there. Ariana still had no idea what the hell she was supposed to do next, but it felt a little more manageable knowing that whatever it was, she wouldn’t be facing it alone. Before she was even in range of greeting him, he had already jumped down. She clung on to the jacket a bit tighter, feeling a wave of grief hit her. There was no hiding how distraught she was over having to continue navigating the world with the one person who had always been by her side.

Ariana looked up at Ulfric with her eyes welling again, unsure of what to say. I’m sorry I ran off? I’m sorry I got us into this mess in the first place? She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but her throat felt impossibly dry. Instead she looked down to the ground at her bare and dirty feet before shakily mumbling, “I’m sorry, Ulf. I’m so--” Her voice cracked before she could finish her thought. She looked back up to Ulfric with her eyes pleading for him to not be upset with her. Not right now.

Ulfric had drifted through the last hours in a fog, or rather, surrounded by smoke. After the others had left he’d retrieved the gas can from the back of his truck and returned to the warehouse, setting the remains of the Aquillas ablaze then and there, leaving their bones to crumble to ash inside the dank testament to human ambition and greed. He couldn’t bring himself to subject Celeste to the same indignity. He misjudged a lot about her (with heavy, terrible consequences the weight of which was bound to descend fully on him in time, but now seemed to hover just over his head mockingly, reminding him of all the reasons he didn’t deserve to mourn her loss) but one thing he was certain of was that she wouldn’t want to share her progenitors’ resting place. Instead, for her, there was a walk carefully cradled and wrapped in a blanket to a secluded clearing with a good view of the stars, a funeral pyre, and someone to watch as the flames burnt away to embers. He then spread her ashes around the base of a young pine tree into which he carved her initials so that he could find it again, in case Ariana wanted to visit when she came back.

When she came back. What seemed like an ocean of time had passed since then, and that when had not eventuated. It had seemed like the right thing to do at time, to let Ariana strike the final blow. It was what his own pack elders would have told her to do, what they did tell him to do on his first hunt when he was a few years younger than she was now. It was meant to be a gift delivering closure and a clarity of purpose and place in the world, but the circumstances they were forced into had corrupted it. Ulfric hadn’t given her a taste of victory like he’d wanted to, but cold revenge. Would that scare her away for good, the ferocity within her and the fact he’d encouraged it? He’d been so sure it wouldn’t, but now—

Familiar footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and to her side in an instant, at which point he pulled her into a thankful, dazed embrace. “Hysj nå, Wolfling,” Ulfric murmured, ruffling her hair slightly. “There’s no need to apologize to me, I only ever wanted you to be safe.” He was reluctant to release her and see in her face the distress that having that wish granted had caused, but the weight of everything was finally settling in and he didn’t want to crush her, so he did.

Everything she’d been trying to hold in came flooding out as Ariana tucked her head into Ulfric. The weight in her chest was trying to free itself now that it was more than apparent she didn’t have to carry this on her own. There was no stopping the tears that began to fall as she clung to him like he was the only thing holding her up. Right now, he kind of was, both physically and metaphorically. Ulfric had already done so much for her and yet, she still needed him now more than ever. She wasn’t ready to face the world on her own and he was a comforting reminder that she didn’t have to. The thought left her feeling a little more steady as he released her.

Her hand carefully wiped away tears, cracking away at some of the dried blood and dirt that were still there, before she looked at him with a lost look in her eyes. “I-- Thank you,” she started with a shaky voice, “I still shouldn’t have run off on you guys.” Or drank irresponsibly. Or killed a man. There was a whole list of things she’d probably shouldn’t have done and Ariana would have given anything to hear Celeste chiding for any one of those decisions. Even an attempt at grounding her would be welcomed if it meant they could still be together. None of this felt right and the question she had to ask made her feel sick to her stomach. As much as she wanted to collapse on the ground and sleep this whole thing away, she had to know she wasn’t bringing more trouble their way. She squeezed her eyes shut and took another deep breath before she asked, “Where are they? Where is she? Is everything… well, you know.”

“That’s alright, you came back.” Ulfric replied, though it came out sounding a little like a question, as if he couldn’t fully believe she really was here and safe. But it was the truth, he couldn’t begrudge her wanting to escape the reality of what had unfolded for a time, even if he’d worried for her. He owed her that concern and more, after he’d failed to keep control of the situation in the warehouse in a new and pathetically human way compared to his usual control issues. “Yes, I—I took care of her, ashes to ashes” he assured her, though taking up the grim duties of cleaning up the aftermath didn’t even start to make it up to her. “I marked the spot, if you ever want to... talk to her, or something.” He fished in his pocket and retrieved a shiny circle of metal, freshly cleaned and polished of the stains of battle. When he’d retrieved it, he’d told himself it was because it wouldn’t burn, but then he hadn’t buried it with the weapons he retrieved from the scene. He realized now it was because he’d been saving it for Ariana. It had meant something to Celeste after all, that had been a key ingredient in the glamouring spell. Which like so many precautions he’d put in place, had amounted to dust. “Here,” he held the ring out to her, gingerly, “I think she’d want you to have this.”  

“Of course I did,” Ariana assured, trying to address the hint of a question in his tone. Her voice still sounded tired and unfamiliar to her, but she meant it. As long as he’d have her, she’d always come back. Ulfric had more than shown he was there for her and he was the closest thing to family she had left. It hadn’t come as a surprise to her that he’d taken care of the bodies. Thinking of Celeste as a body was still heart wrenching, but knowing the spot was marked and she could visit it when she was ready brought some small form of solace. “Thank you for taking care of… well, everything. Maybe you could show me tomorrow?” As much as she wanted to rush there right now, her eyes were struggling to stay open and her entire body felt ready to collapse from exhaustion. She watched as he pulled something out of his pocket. Even with sleep in her eyes, she recognized it almost immediately. Celeste’s ring. The first gift Ariana had ever given her with money she made herself. She’d done some gardening work for their nextdoor neighbor when they lived back in Austin and taking her earnings to the fair her school had been putting on. A local jewelry maker had made it. There was a small opal on it since it was her birthstone. Celeste had worn it nearly every day since.It had always been a happy memory, but now somehow, her grief seemed to taint it. She carefully took it from him, looking it over, before sliding it on her own finger. “Yeah, I’m glad you didn’t-- you know.” 

Ariana couldn’t help the dramatic yawn that came next. With her phone shattered, she had no idea what time it was, but with how the sky was beginning to turn a lighter shade, she knew it had to be getting close to dawn. She looked down at herself, still covered in dried blood and dirt and started toward the door. “I should probably--” She froze as she touched the handle of the door, realizing all of Celeste’s stuff would be there as if she had only just left. As if she could come back. A bunch of small reminders that she wasn’t quite ready to face just yet. “I forgot-- Her stuff is all there, isn’t it?”

Ulfric’s eyes widened in horror as when it dawned on him what she meant. “Yes, It’s still there. I haven’t had time to—” He pinched the bridge of his nose with a self-chastising sigh, because he’d been so fixated on watching the woods for her return, he hadn’t even thought about heading inside, and what remained there. “Wait, just a moment,” he pleaded, and gestured for her to take a seat on one of the camping chairs at the picnic table underneath the front awning, before he entered the trailer, opening and closing the door quickly. He tried to not to pay attention to the things Celeste had left behind as he went about his task, but it was impossible not to. She was everywhere; boots left by the door, a used coffee cup sitting on the edge of the sink, that ridiculous outfit she wore to Al’s poking out of the laundry hamper, and her scent still sealed into the tight space. All these signs used to drive him wild reminding him of the ‘hunter’s’ presence but seemed to torment him even more now in her absence.

A few minutes passed, and Ulfric returned to Ariana with a thick blanket draped over one arm and a bowl of water and washcloth in his hands which he deposited on the table in front of her. “Here, you should wash your face at least.” He urged her, eyeing the blood and dirt with worry. It seemed to all be dried and he couldn’t smell any fresh blood on her but he still wasn't sure what the extent of her injuries at the hands of the Aquilla’s had been, nor if there would be any lingering effects of the sedative cocktail they gave her. She’d need a place to recover, but a metal box full of mementos of her dead sister hardly seemed like the ideal place. “I’m sorry, perhaps you’d like to stay somewhere else, while I make arrangements, at least?” he offered, leaving the choice of whether she’d want to return after that up to her. “I could call Simon…” The man may have been inexperienced in the ways of wolves, but he’d shown he was no stranger to kindness. Then again, the news of what had transpired was likely to rattle him. “Or that Deirdre woman, she told me she cares for you a great deal. I think she’d be willing to take you in.”

Ariana drew in a sharp breath, feeling guilty as she saw the look on Ulfric’s face. Of course, when would he have had time to deal with Celeste’s stuff? Why would he have anyway? She was the one who needed to go through that, decide what to keep and what to get rid of, but the prospect of seeing it right now was too much. Everything was still so raw. The reminders, her smell, her books on the nightstand, she couldn't look at them right now. It hurt too much. She just wanted to sleep and pretend like none of this happened for a few hours.Maybe in a few days, they could go through some of it together. “No, it’s okay-- I should do it. I just,” she looked down at the ground, trying to stifle the crack in her voice, “I don’t think I can yet.” She nodded as Ulf told her to wait a moment and sat down in the lawn chair. Her feet rested on the chair as she hugged her knees close. It felt a little better to be sitting, she was so tired she could probably fall asleep as she was in the chair, but Ulfric returned with a blanket, water, and a rag. Right, she was still covered in dried blood and dirt.

Ariana carefully took the rag to her face, being sure not to look down at what was coming off on it. The loss of Celeste was so much that she didn’t even want to think of the implications of mauling a person, no matter how terrible a person they had been. Her stomach felt queasy even giving a small nod to the fact. She’d have to face that and unpack another day. For now, she’d let the cool water soothe her skin and try not to focus on anything outside this moment. He mentioned staying with Simon or Deirdre and she weighed her options for a moment. She didn’t want to be away from Ulfric, but right now, being there without Celeste would hurt too much. They’d been there a short amount of time, but the small space had already become filled with memories. She set the rag back down in the bowl and wrapped herself up in the blanket. Her eyes met Ulfric’s again as she spoke, her voice beginning to feel raspy. “Maybe just for a few nights. I know Deirdre has a lot of room, I think I’d rather go there if she’s okay with… Oh, her car! It’s at the hotel,” she tacked on the last part hurriedly as she had almost forgotten about the car. A few nights at Deirdre’s could be good though… nothing that would remind her of Celeste. At least not until she was ready to face it. She’d have to eventually and she wanted to come back home. She looked back up to him, her eyes tired and drooping, “But I can come back though, right? I can still, well, live here?”

Ulfric brought his palm to his forehead, he’d completely forgotten about the car. It had seemed so long that Ariana had been getting ready for prom, posing excitedly for pictures not too far from where they sat now. “We can pick it up and drop you and it off at the same time,” he assured her, hoping that with the night of teenage drunkenness that had gone on nearby one abandoned car in the hotel parking lot wouldn’t have attracted too much attention. With the combined sensations of worry, grief, guilt and numbness warring within him he was surprised he could register another emotion, but her question still managed to shock him. “Of course, you can. It’s just, I wasn’t sure you would want to after I—” I failed. I let this happen. If he’d just done something different. Gone with Luke, or forced the Aquillas out into the open where he could have fought them in earnest… If he hadn’t been so single-mindedly focussed on securing Ari’s immediate safety, he might have been able to spare her this ongoing hurt. “After everything. I’d understand if you needed some space.” He couldn’t stand the thought that she was saying this because of some misplaced sense of loyalty. What had he done to earn it, really, besides share the same species? The only promise he’d made her that mattered; that he’d keep them both safe, had been broken. She didn’t owe him anything. “You’ve always got a place with me if you ever want it, but you shouldn’t feel obligated.”

Ariana nodded slowly and wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, ignoring the dull pain in her side. She was sure the car was fine, but the keys were still up in the hotel room with her stuff and Jessie. Crap. She had told her she’d be right back and now it’d look like she totally bailed. Somehow, that seemed a better assumption than the truth. Maybe she could text Jessie and ask-- Oh. Phone. Smashed somewhere. Instead, she weakly explained, “I shouldn’t drive right now. They keys are in the hotel room with Jessie-- If I can use your phone, I can message her to drive it over.” As an afterthought, she added, “Should also make sure Deirdre doesn’t mind me staying with her for a few nights.” Though everything still felt overwhelming and weighed on her, there was some comfort in knowing she’d still have a home with Ulfric. She knew her brows were indicative of her confusion? Why would she want space? Well, aside from some time away before dealing with Celeste’s things, space was the opposite of what she wanted. “Of course I want to come back. You’re,” she stopped momentarily, knowing they didn’t usually express the sentiment, but with how much she wished she told Celeste, she had to say it. You only had so many chances to tell the people you loved how much they meant to you. “You’re family,” she stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. To her, it was. Ulfric had done so much for her while never asking for anything in return. Her hands still clung tightly to the edges of the blanket, as if somehow kept her tethered, but she let one hand go to reach over and give his hand a squeeze. The same way Celeste had always done with her whenever she felt upset. “Why would I feel-- Ulf, this isn’t,” she took a breath, unable to fully understand why he thought she’d feel obligated to come back. It was important he knew she wanted to be there with him, especially now, after-- No. She didn’t want to think about what happened anymore than she already had tonight. He just needed to know. “I’m coming back because I want to.”  

Ulfric handed over his phone without a second thought. He would have handed over anything in his possession if Ariana asked for it in that moment and scoured the town for anything he didn’t already have. “Of course, I did intend to ask her first. Best to show respect where people like her are concerned.” Not that he had much of a clue exactly what her deal was, but her affection for Ari read as sincere and if she was fae, that meant she had some type of power. It would comfort him to know that whoever was looking after the young wolf was capable of defending them both, though he hoped that wouldn’t be necessary anytime soon. Ariana deserved some rest, some stability, or else what was the point of everything that had transpired? “Good, that’s settled then,” Ulfric squeezed her hand in return and nodded acceptance of her words. He had promised Celeste that he would do everything he could to keep her sister safe and let her build the life of her choosing. If Ari’s choice was to stand by him, he wouldn’t deny her. It would make it that much easier to keep his word, to make sure Celeste’s sacrifice mattered. “You’ll have a home waiting for you, when you’re ready for it.”

Ariana took the phone from Ulfric and logged into her own social media. Her mind blanked when she tried to think of what to tell Jessie. She opted to be vague and mention a family emergency. She gave her the address to return the car to. The breath she breathed caught in her throat several times at the realization of how many times she was going to have to explain what happened. With a message to Deirdre up, she realized she’d need more explanation. Her fingers hovered over the screen, unable to type out the words of what happened to her or Celeste. If she was going to stay there, Deirdre was owed some sort of explanation. She swallowed down a sob that threatened to spill over. She pushed the phone back to Ulfric. “Can you ask her-- I can’t-- I don’t know how to tell her.” She looked down, tears forming again. More than anything, she wanted to wake up and for this to all just be a bad dream. She could barely say it outloud, but seeing it typed out on a screen. Her chest already felt heavier. She could only quietly nod in acknowledgment of having a home here with Ulfric. She wanted to say she was grateful. She wanted to tell him how much everything he’d done for her and Celeste meant to her, but the words wouldn’t come out. She found herself crying again and just hugged her knees a little tighter, trying to push away the memory of earlier tonight. That’s not how she wanted to remember Celeste, but the image of her lying on the warehouse floor with blood pooling around her seemed to be what kept resurfacing in her mind.

“Yes, I can do that.” Ulfric took the phone back even faster than he’d given it to her, gladly taking on the weight of the responsibility. The weight of his choices over the past weeks was already a leaden load, but he felt he could be strong enough to carry it, if it was on her behalf. He paused halfway through typing his first message to Deidre, distracted by her shaking as her sobs wracked through her. He moved behind the chair to pat her on the back reassuringly while she cried, but didn’t comment to try and stop her or tell her it was okay. She didn’t need his permission to feel whatever it was she was feeling. Instead, he quietly waited until she had calmed, dabbing at the edges of his own eyes while she still faced the other way before he spoke again. “How about you come sit in the truck? I can turn the heater on, and you can warm up, perhaps take a nap?” He suggested, noticing her exhaustion, and thinking perhaps sleep might give her some reprieve if only for a few moments, but knowing she wasn’t likely to find the inside of the trailer restful in its current state. “Then once I get the all clear from Deirdre I can drive you over there. How does that sound?”

Now that she was sitting still, trying to navigate through how she was going to face the world without Celeste, Ariana found it impossible to shake the image of her body from her mind. That’s not how she wanted to remember Celeste. She wanted to remember Saturday morning waffles. Hiking through so many different states. Making fun of her for being so damn anal about how her books were organized. Those stung, but the memory of her laying there, lifeless and bleeding, felt like a knife to the gut over and over. She hadn’t even realized her quiet tears had turned into full on sobs until she felt a gentle hand on her back. A small comfort that slightly dulled the full body ache every new sob brought. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that before she finally tired. Her body had nothing left to give. She looked to Ulf, who cried a few tears with her and nodded at the suggestion of getting some rest in the truck. Sleep would be better. “Yeah, I’ll do that,” she answered, voice still raw from crying. She curled up in her normal spot in the passenger seat, extending the chair fully back, and wrapping the blanket around her. She tried to find comfort in the warmth and the familiar smell of Ulf throughout the truck. It wasn’t long before she finally dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

[inspirationdivine]

If You Go Down to The Woods Tonight || Lydia and Luce

Luce finds Lydia dancing naked in the woods. What could go wrong?

Lydia was deep and far into the woods, far enough that no one would stumble upon her, (or so Lydia assumed) so when she shed her clothes, she shed her glamour too. Her hand glowed against the tree bark she leant against to slide off her skirt. The pixies chittered as her wings extended from her back, and she slid into a very rare spring fairy ring. It was already withering, not made for this climate, but it would be good for one night. No other species would understand the pulsating magic of tinkling bells that filled her body as the pixies surrounded her. It was a music no one else could hear. Even as the rain came down, they danced. The pixies sang, buzzing past her ears, her wings, as she hovered over the damp forest floor. Here, there was no judgement, no manipulation, no dishonesty. Even glamours were a lie in their own way. Her hips rolled the the beat of the tingles in her spine.  Until she paused, looked around. They were no longer alone. “You might as well reveal yourself, whoever you are.”

Hiking further into the woods, Luce rested her hand on the sword on her hip. After her run in with Donuts the Actually Not So Bad Cop during the last storm, she wanted to find a place more off the beaten path for her future mass fires. But, after the fext and whatever that slimy bastard attacked her and Remmy, she wasn’t just running out here without a little extra protection. The things she did to fucking improve herself. All because she didn’t want her sisters to figure out what she was doing. They had their own secrets-- that much was clear, after the troubling encounter she and Nellie had with August-- and she was sure they wouldn’t begrudge her one of her own. As she hiked, rain began to trickle from the sky. Glancing up, she was startled when she realized that there was movement through the trees. Not just rain, but… Huh. Crouching slightly, she moved closer to the scene and was startled to see a completely naked woman floating in the middle of the forest, surrounded by sprites. But, more startling than that were the wings coming out of her back. As the woman addressed her, Luce’s held her hands up in an apologetic gesture. That said, she didn’t avert her gaze as she stepped closer. “I didn’t mean to gatecrash. My b.” She said with an easy smile.

It was close enough to the full moon that it could still be a wolfling, Lydia thought as the woman emerged from the trees. She was beautiful, even the pixies stilled to look at her. The music still rang in her body, the perfect concordance of mushrooms. But her eyes drifted from that pretty smile to lower on her body, and Lydia’s heart froze in place. Not a werewolf. Werewolves had teeth and claws enough to not need the shining knuckle dusters on her hands, nor the sword on her hip. Hunter. Lydia’s heart hammered as she hovered backwards, reaching behind her for her purse. In it lay a brass pistol, which she picked up and held against her glowing thigh. “Didn’t you?” She repeated skeptically, her voice an octave higher than normal. “You didn’t come equipped like someone who wasn’t here to gatecrash.”

Entranced by the woman’s other-worldly appearance, Luce was barely aware of the fact that she was floating backwards. Or the fact that she was looking at the weapons that she had carried into the woods with her. As the woman began to float backwards, going for the bag on the ground, Luce was startled when she pulled out a pistol and trained it on her. “Whoa! Hold up, I’m not doing anything!” She said, her ironic hands up stance becoming much more of a plea for ‘hey, don’t fucking shoot me’ than she had intended. “You think I make a habit of going into these woods without a little protection? There’s a lot of shit out here that’s more than happy to try and attack both of us. I’m not in the business of making kebabs out of gorgeous flying women.” Luce replied, more than a little bit of impudence apparent in her tone. She’d just come out for a walk, to scope out the area. Not to get a gun pulled on her by what she could only assume was one of the Fae.

“Why should I believe you? Hunters love to lie. It’s probably what they’re best at,” Lydia replied, her arms trembling, but her aim true. “I’m not in the habit of shooting beautiful women, but that doesn’t mean I don’t make an exception.” She eyed her cautiously, her ears prickling. The feeling of being watched hadn’t left with the mimes, as it had for most. If it had been hunters, it would have explained how much it haunted her, and justified the fear. 

Watching the way the woman’s arms seemed to shake, the way her stange ears were twitching, Luce could tell that the stranger was far more afraid of her than she was. Which, given the whole gun situation, said a lot. A Hunter? Is that what she thought she was? But, she was a lot more interested in the beautiful women comment. With a smirk, Luce nodded. “Only because you called me pretty,” She teased, before tossing her silver knuckledusters onto the ground next to her. With a slow hand, Luce locked eyes with the woman, “I’m taking off my belt. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t shoot me.” She said before undoing the latch of her belt and tossing it onto the grass as well. “I’m not a Hunter. I figure that would be enough to prove I’m not.”

Lydia wasn’t in the mood to flirt or tease until the weapons were dropped. In the dark, she slowly realised the knuckles glinted silver, not like irons. “Not shooting,” she replied, her voice a little steadier as she watched Luce carefully remove the belt, and watched the sword drop onto the leafy floor. Although, Lydia still wasn’t convinced. Even hunters were smart enough to know not to bring a sword to a gun fight. All the same, she lowered her pistol, tapping it against her thigh before setting it back on the branch of her tree. “Well, darling, you’ve caught me off guard. I’m not sure I have many secrets from you anymore,” Lydia looked down at her bare body, unashamed, but certainly unsure what to do now. “My name’s Lydia. Who, exactly, are you?” 

Grin still on her face, despite the fact that there was a gun trained on her, Luce let out a laugh. “You always this friendly to heavily armed hikers? Seriously, though, I didn’t mean to interrupt your party with the pixies.” She said, gesturing to the pixies that surrounded them and were still staring at her with wary, beady eyes. Letting her eyes roam daringly over the Fae woman’s body, Luce nodded, “So it would seem. Can’t say I mind.” She said before lowering her hands to rest against the flannel shirt that was tied around her waist. Without her weapons, she definitely felt vulnerable, but you know. Wasn’t part of flirting about vulnerability? “You can call me Luce.” She said. Even though the woman hadn’t asked for her name, she wasn’t going to take any chances. She’d had run-ins with more than a couple Fae women in the past, she didn’t want to wind up forgetting who she was.

“I thought I was deep enough into the woods to avoid the heavily armed hikers,” Lydia replied, looking around at at pixies beside her. She stood a little taller under Luce’s gaze, a little straighter. Without her glamour, her skin had next to no flaws, and glowed light yellow. She smiled slightly. “You’ve interupted now. We could invite you to join in, but you might not like how that would go.” Lydia stepped back into the fairy rings, hips swaying. “Can I now? Luce it is. And what manner of being are you? If not a werewolf nor a hunter?”

“Ah, well. Some of us like to live on the edge.” Luce replied easily, not unduly troubled by the fact that the woman in front of her was still very much not a human. Lydia. That was it. Taking in the way that the she seemed to glow in the light, Luce made note of her appearance-- she didn’t usually dabble in portraits, but there was something about her that just… had to be captured. She might break out her oil paints when she got home. Glancing back to the bag, that was still not as far from Lydia as her sword was from her, she corrected herself. If she got home. “Mmm, I’m good. Not really a mushroom gal, to be honest.” She said. Raising an eyebrow, Luce let out a laugh, “You really thought I was a werewolf?” She’d have to tell Ulf that one. “Human. Very much a human. Not a vampire or any kind of undead either.” She added. That said, it never hurt to keep the fact she was a witch in her back pocket. 

“Now that is disappointing.” Lydia replied, as the pixies chittered around them. Human. “I had assumed most humans wouldn’t wander out while it was raining, not so close to the full moon. I suppose humans here are more foolhardy than most. Oh well.” It was beginning to rain harder, and goosebumps began to raise against her skin. She sensed something from this human though, as she watched her curiously. “You’re an artist, aren’t you? You have impressive potential.”

Luce’s expression shifted from one of amusement to one of vague irritation. Disappointing. She hated that word. Resting a hand on her hip, she shrugged. “What can I say, I live on the edge. Nothing’s better than a nice storm. Seems like you’re in agreement there.” She said with a nod, tilting her head to the fact that Lydia herself was out here in the middle of the woods just as she was. “Tattoo artist. And other mediums, but mostly that. What gave it away, the sleeves?” She asked, her tone returning to the joking, lighter cadence of before. Running a hand through her soaked hair, Luce swept it back out of her face, keeping her eyes focused on the strange, entrancing woman that stood before her. 

“I prefer clear skies to cloudy ones, but we make do,” Lydia replied. She could practically taste it in the air now, the potential held in this woman. There was a hole in her roster, and tattoo artists could be incredibly artistic types. She wouldn’t be able to stay a tattoo artist, of course, but Lydia could work on that. Lydia’s voice softened as she stepped closer. “No, you just have a vibe. What style do you tatt- oh, fuck.” Lydia cursed, spotting three creatures behind Luce. Little red caps were coming for the fae circle. “That’s trouble.”

While Luce was more interested in hearing what Lydia had to say, the fact that there were three disgusting little gremlins with bloody red caps perched on their heads, was putting a slight damper on the little flirtation. “You’re not wrong.” She grimaced before reaching for her sword. But, before she could make a grab for it, one of the creatures swiped at her with its bloodied, iron spear, letting out a complicated hissing and growling that the others seemed to understand. “C’mon, fair is fair. You don’t wanna fight an unarmed gal, do you?” She said cajolingly. Not that it would do much, honestly, but it was worth a shot. The little creatures growled again at her as she went for the sword and instead of regaining the weapon, all she managed to snag was her set of silver brass knuckles. “You wouldn’t happen to have any ideas on how to stop these fuckers, hm?” Luce asked, directing the question to Lydia.

“They don’t want to fight you, they want to eat you,” Lydia clarified, stepping back and extending her wings to begin hovering. Bloody little things. Their shoes and spears were made to burn, and in any other situation would have bolted. With three pixies to look after, though. “Get between my wings,” Lydia instructed the pixies, because there was shelter under the hard shells of her Elytra. Lydia buzzed up as one of the Redcaps swiped, her heart pounding in her chest. “Running! Running would be excellent! They can’t swim and they-AH!” Lydia yelped as a spear plunged into the tree beside her, inches from her head. She grabbed her gun, knocking the rest of her purse onto the forest floor. “Their hats! Can’t live without them!” The crack of a gunshot echoed through the woods as Lydia shot one of them in the head. That enraged the others. 

“I mean, yeah, I figured. Can’t a girl crack a--” Before Luce could finish her statement, another spear came swinging in her direction and she dodged out of the way. Thank christ she liked doing swordsmanship for fun, otherwise she would have been smacked upside the head. With an irritated noise, Luce glared at the redcap that stood in front of her before making her way, jumping over the spear point to get in close. But, before she could punch it across the face, a gunshot rang through the air and it went down like a sack of potatoes, bullet lodged firmly in its head. Startled, she glanced back at Lydia. Right. Guns. “Well, if we’re bringing out the big guns…” With a flick of her hand, a spark of flame burned brightly in her hands, wreathing the silver knuckles dusters on her fists. Whirling around, Luce brought her foot down on the end of a spear, trapping it in the dirt. As the redcap stared at her in something like horror, she brought her fist back and pummeled it in the face once, twice, leaving burn scorch marks across it’s goblin-like features.

Lydia, only just a foot taller than the redcaps, and still naked, was very much not okay, especially as four more redcaps advanced. Hunters dealt with these in groups, Lydia knew. They had to, because of their natural tolerance to iron and vicious attitudes. As warden killers, they were almost worth keeping around, like it was worth keeping spiders that ate mosquitos. Just not when they were trying to eat her. Lydia shrieked as the night sky filled with fire, before realising its source. Witch! The redcaps were momentarily stunned as she scorched one of them, drawing the attention of the other three, drawing their spears away from Lydia and to Luce. Lydia’s heart hammered as she pointed her pistol at one of them, fired twice, missed, and hit a different one in the arm instead. That had their attention. Bad idea. Lydia screamed again as a spear was thrown at her, burning ice hot along her arm. Fuck that. Looking up, Lydia beat her wings hard enough to jump her up onto a tree branch. Fuckers couldn’t reach her there (right? hopefully?), as she left Luce as bait and tried to shoot them again.

Yanking the iron spear from the redcap’s hand, Luce tried to remember back to her track and field days-- okay, what had that really hot javelin girl told her? Arm back, running start… Luce hucked the spear across the field towards one of the redcaps that had appeared from the trees. The spear hit slightly off the mark, slicing the redcap through the leg and pinning it to the ground where it let out a strangled wale of anger. While these shitty creatures seemed to have no problem with iron, that didn’t make them immune to being skewered. Out of the corner of her eye, Luce saw that Lydia had taken flight to the trees, gun still in hand. Great, Annie Got Her Gun over there was using her as a distraction. “Just peachy.” Luce grumbled under her breath before running to where her sword lay in the ground. Grabbing it, she let loose another torrent of magic, this time running up the length of her sword. “Eat shit and die!” She yelled as she swung at one of the redcaps nearest her. The creature howled in anger before stabbing at her. The weapon was just longer than her own, but it was shorter than her which meant they were on a level playing field. “Do you maybe wanna shoot one of these?” Luce asked as the other two redcaps began to circle around her.

None of them had tried to fly yet, thank god, Lydia thought as she watched Luce below. Her heart hammered louder than the scream of the redcap down below - pinned in place by the spear. That, Lydia could do. She squeezed the trigger, once, twice, three times as its face shattered and turned bloody red. Rain sizzled midair as Luce sent flames running the length of her sword, the other two circling her. Just then, tiny pebbles began hurtling out of the sky, bouncing of the grey skin of the red caps. Roughly sharpened twigs were hurled down at them by pixies, glinting in the sky like fireflies. The redcaps looked up and snarled. One pulled his arm back, teeth bared, and threw his spear up into the sky. When it came down, it came back stained red, a light went out as a pixie fell to the ground. The redcap jeered and scooped up the tiny corpse, and stuffed half of the pixie into his mouth. Her bones crunched like crisps, as he put the rest of her in his pocket. The night sky could cast a blue tint over everything it touched, but as Lydia looked at the tiny feet poking out of that bedraggled pocket, all she saw was red. Bang, bang. It didn’t kill him, but sent him to his knees. “Can’t hit the others with you in the way!”

As Lydia shot at the redcap she’d stabbed with the spear, Luce continued to battle against the two that were prodding at her with their spears. She batted back blow after blow, but they had numbers on her. With a growl, she made an aggressive lunge, trying to stab the closest redcap through the stomach with her sword. But, the redcap jumped out of the way and Luce found herself with her side exposed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Before the redcap nearest her could get a shot on her, twigs rained down, smacking into the monstrous Fae. Looking up, Luce was startled to see pixies trying to fight back. Her shock morphed to horror as she watched the redcap snatch one and shove it into its mouth. “What the fucking shit…” She breathed. When Lydia’s bullets brought the offending creature to its knees, Luce’s jaw tightened. To her right, the remaining redcap had ignored her, following the other creature’s suit and attempting to snatch pixies from the sky. Gritting her teeth, Luce stared at the injured redcap that was glaring daggers in her direction. She’d deal with him later. Whirling on the creature that was trying to grab at the pixies, she conjured a ball of flame and hurled it at the redcap. “Hey! Leave them the fuck alone!” She said before charging at it with her flaming sword. Hopefully the pixies would get the hint and get the hell outta Dodge. 

The redcap in question howled as its cap caught fire, and he hopped from foot to foot as he slapped his cap with intent urgency. So much urgency he didn’t notice Luce swingin at him until the last possible second. He leapt back, baring his teeth, swinging his spear to deflect the sword. He let out a shrill war cry as he leapt at her bodily, aiming to gouge out her eyes. 

The pixies wailed. It was the most pitiful tiny noise Lydia had heard. Her blood boiled, as the pixies darted back under her wings, and she considered again just leaving the human to her fate. Her blood pounded in her ears as she tried to aim at the other one now, feeling something she hadn’t in many years: a ravenous hunger for revenge. “Kill it, or get out of the way!”

Fuck. Luce dodged out of the way as the redcap came at her, hell-bent on ripping her to shreds. But, though she was able to avoid the brunt of the redcaps attack, the edge of the spear grazed across her shoulder as it passed by her. With a strangled gasp, Luce’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the redcap that was staring at her with murderous intent. This fucker... Tossing her sword to the ground, she let the flames surrounding the blade die, the slight trickle of magical energy ceasing. For a moment, she stood there, eyes locked with the creature. Then, it ran at her, spear poised to run her through. Before the creature took another step, Luce’s hand rose and a ball of flame arched from her palm before engulfing the creature’s head in flames. The cap began to burn, the flames devouring it, while the redcap tried and failed to fight the fire off. When the final redcap fell to the ground, Luce waved away the fire and let out a sigh. Looking up at the Fae woman, she spoke up, “Those pixies okay?”

The fire arching from Luce’s hands became blinding, forcing Lydia to look away. Her pupils could not shrink to protect her gaze so she pulled an arm over her eyes. The raw power some humans were gifted with was almost as terrible as the creatures Luce slaughtered with it. Lydia couldn’t find it in her to mourn the redcaps, fae as they were, but the heat of the fire chilled her to her bone. When Luce called to her, Lydia looked down at the bloodied battlefield. She was too used to death in all it’s forms for her stomach to turn, but her heart clenched. Tiny pale legs still poked out of a bloodied pocket. Swallowing, Lydia leapt down from her branch, flapping her wings to break the fall. She looked down at her skin, normally gold but now flecked and smeared with blood. The tiniest cut on her arm burned like the spear had gone through her chest. “They’re… they’re safe now.” Except the one that had crunched like - Lydia stepped back, clutching at her stomach. She was wrong - now it was definitely turning. “Ahem.” She turned her mind back to herself, to the scrapes and bruises and burns, the cold rain raising goosebumps. All that, at least, could be fixed with a meal. Wasn’t it fortunate there was one right there? Full of energy too, and magic that no human ought have. As Lydia looked to Luce, though, she knew she couldn’t. A reason so simple it would become law the moment she spoke it. That too made her stomach coil, but the old laws were more important than… well. “It appears we owe you a debt, human.” Lydia said, and felt the bond of fae magic tie her to Luce. 

“Glad to hear it.” Looking over her shoulder, Luce winced as the rain continued to pour down, washing the blood from her shoulder down the back of her shirt. It wasn’t a bad injury, but she was definitely going to have to make a trip to her mother’s to get it healed. Unlike her nose, her arm was something she didn’t want to wait around to heal on its own. Her job mattered more than avoiding her mother’s games of 20 questions. As Lydia descended from the tree she’d taken flight to, her wings fluttering, Luce was reminded of how otherwordly the woman was. And, remembering the gun that she’d used against the redcaps, how deadly she was. “A debt?” Luce’s eyes widened. Debts. Iggy had told her about debts, about the Fae, and about how seriously those words were. And, to a degree, Luce understood. Magic was about give and take, push and pull. Exchange of energy for power. And this wasn’t all that different. It just meant a fuckton more to have a Fae put that kind of power in her hands. “Seems like it would. Don’t worry too much, though. I’m not an asshole.” She reassured, as she gathered her sword from where she’d thrown it on the ground. Sticking it back on her belt, she glanced at one of the iron spears before picking it up and slinging it over her uninjured shoulder. “Take care of yourself. And those pixies too.” She said with a nod before picking her way back out of the forest, her head reeling with the reality of what had just happened. A Fae debt. Fuck.

It wasn’t until the human walked out of sight that Lydia slumped, crumbling against the nearby tree. Lydia whimpered as the adrenaline drained and her tolerance for pain drained with it. Her hair and skin dulled as she donned her glamour, and pulled her dress back on. It was a long walk back, and she didn’t want to run into any more humans with her wings out. A fucking spellcaster. Worse than an asshole - a human. Lydia plucked two green leaves from the tree, and gently wrapped the pixie’s body in them, as her eyes pricked and her cheeks grew salty as well as wet. She held out her arm sideways for the other pixies. “Do you want a ride home? I’ll help with her funeral rites.” The fairy ring was destroyed, and the communal silent music with it.

[big-bad-ulf]

letsbenditlikebennett replied to your post “[pm] I miss you. Though Deirdre is just about as up to date on Gen Z...”

[pm] Yeah, she knows the words. Just gotta master the context. I know you'll be okay, Bodolf, I just want you to know I'm here for you, too. We can be sad together. Alternatively, I'm especially looking forward to the Strawberry Moon. Where are we going?

[pm] I’d almost forgotten that was so soon. I’ll show you one of my favourite spots, so far out in the forest you could hear a squirrel’s heartbeat, it’s so peaceful there. 

Wolfling, I hate to have to burden you with this, but there’s a police officer asking questions about your sister. If anyone from WCPD asks, Miles being the obvious exception, Celeste left a note that she was leaving town to shake off the people following her. We don’t know where she went or when she’ll be back. I’m sorry things have to be this way, but if civilian law enforcement gets involved it will only make things harder for us. 

[charmed-redemption]

"Sais the horniest creature on Olympus."

The young man replied feeling fingers on his hips and then moving inside of him. The wolfling spoke as if it was his idea to leave the mountain for a release. It seemed as if the man was about to cream his pants while the dcities spoke

"our bond requires care like any other but the connection of out magics makes it a little different...we can have sex another time."

Rome: Summer Loving

@sunsrpmuses

[ladyravenclaws]

Little Wolf

"Mama... why did dat dark place feel like I been there before?" The quiet voice of Asaan sounded as he lay curled against his mother's chest. His unruly head of violet curls lay boundless and wild after a day of Saber riding, and those familiar molten pools of silver stared tiredly at the fire stoked in his and his sister's room. The snowy haired girl lay curled against her mother's side, half laying on her hip and half on her brother's bed, having fallen asleep long before when her mother sang to them before they went to rest for the day.

Lea'vune continued to hum softly, one hand petting Dheana's head while the other wound around her son's back.

"Which dark place, da'lath?"(little love) Her canorous tone sounded mid-song, pressing a soft kiss atop matching violet curls. Asaan squirmed softly, staring at the shadow branding on his arms.

"Dat place.. Jasyl called it 'The Darkwood'.." he said softly, picking his head up to regard his mother. He watched her face twitch slightly, though any other reaction was hidden everywhere except her shadowy silvers.

"Before recently, you had been there before. Your father, your birth father, and I lived there just before you were born. We were sworn to protect people. People who meant a lot to us, but.. bad things happened, and we were forced to leave shortly after I found out you and your sister were dewdrops in my belly." Lea explained carefully, a slender ear slanting downwards as she watched the confusion write across her boy's face. "But that is not what you meant, is it?" She asked quietly after a moment, his face scrunching up and relaxing several times as he thought. He shook his head.

"Nuh-uh. I dunno what it feels like, but it kin'na feels like when Baela and Maela would make us those yummy cookies when we were good. Warm n' fuzzy, also like when you hug me and Dhea." (Grandpa and Grandma) He giggled, flashing a toothy little grin. Lea chuckled at the memory, though it was brief, for her own concern writ across her features as she ran her hand along her son's forehead to brush the curls from his eyes. Like home. Like he felt whole. She knew that feeling, those were her shadows ripped from her body and planted into her boy's, much before his time had come to begin mastering them himself. Lea'vune was silent for a long moment, idly brushing locks of unruly violet away from his face. Though he grew silent, that smile sobering into a look of contemplation, ears drooping at the sides of his head.

"Is it not supposed to feel like dat? Dat's where you swallowed me's and Dhea up and we grew up till we wanted to come out, right? Dat's why it feels like home?" He asked carefully. Her lips pursed; that's what she was afraid of.

"It is a fond place of memory, my love, surely. Draw whatever good feelings from that place you can, hm? I promise it will be over soon and you will feel well again." She purred softly, leaning forward and kissing his forehead. "It is making you sick, is it not?"

"It's not warm and fuzzy for long.. yah, it makes me feel woozy after a while... I falled over again today." He admitted softly, tiny ears flattening against his skull. "But I try an'... make it feel okay by remembering good t'ings. Finny tooked me home today." He explained, finding it hard to meet his mother's eyes now as she stared at him.

"Asaan... Da'fenlin, did you tell anyone else?" (Little wolfling) She asked worriedly, hugging his tiny body closer to her as her other ear pinned to her skull. He shook his head and sniffled.

"I.. wanna feel okay again... Mama, when will it go away?" He sniffled as his face scrunched up, tears welling up in those bright silvers. That confident facade played until only moments before was only just; the boy was hurting in ways he shouldn't be.

"Oh my sweet boy... soon. Soon, I promise, we will make it go away. Jasyl told me he would help do just that. Soon it will be all over. I promise, on my soul, I promise." She cooed softly to the boy whose little body shook with his quiet cries; even distressed he didn't want to wake his sister up, didn't want her to know he was hurting, too; he had to be a strong brother, a little warrior.

Lea tugged him closer, peppering kisses all over his face. His forehead, nose, over his eyes, and on his cheeks to take those tears away. She shushed him softly, tucking his head under her chin so he could cuddle up more fully against her chest. 

"If you are in doubt, do you remember what he said, mm?" She asked softly, nuzzling the top of his head. He sniffled softly as he nuzzled her neck with his cheek. 

"We dun break our word in dis house... but Min'da.. pinky promise you make it go away soon?" He recited the pledge as best he could, voice dropping to sloppily mimic his step-father's voice as he did but came back to his own whisper after. He peeked back up to Lea and held up his pinky finger. Another kiss to his forehead and slowly did her hand leave her daughter's slumbering head to hook her pinky around her son's and bring their entwined digits up to kiss them.

"Precisely. I promise, Da'fenlin. Get some rest. The days grow shorter and you will not get as much sleep as you would like soon. And you will need it if you want to begin your training, hm?" She promised with a wink, setting her chin atop his head. He replied with a little hum as he pressed his cheek against her chest, curls tickling the nape of her neck as his little body relaxed, shortly falling into slumber beside his sister as his sniffles quieted and those stuttered breaths slowed.

Shortly after he put his head down, she began her soft series of lullabies once more, staring into the fire and watching it flicker out as the sun rose higher into the sky and trickled through their curtains drawn over the windows. Once the Assassin was sure he was asleep did she jimmy jack her way out of the ironclad grip of sleeping toddlers with expert care; it clearly wasn't her first time. The twins were placed side by side and the covers were tucked up and around them, and Lea'vune merely watched them sleep for a moment longer as she lingered in the doorway. 

Both of her children were hurting in the aftermath of the N'raqi attack and in wildly different ways, and it pained her to her core. Dark lips pursed, whispering a soft affection to the twins before closing the door behind her, pressing her back against it and letting her eyes slip closed a moment. Her head shook slightly, exhaling a deep breath as she padded quietly down the hall and disappeared behind the door to her chambers for the morning.

@house-of-the-fallen-sun (for brief mention)

[ohwolfling]

Reply to this post from @xelastarkly

It's easy to spend so much time trying to usher stragglers to the OBVIOUS issue of AT BEST dubious consent from Mystra that you may never really sink into just how doomed Gale (or likely any chosen) is from the moment Mystra notices them.

Gale himself says that Mystra will know that they interacted with the book of Karsus.

Minsc has the line about hiding young boys from her and confirmation that Elminster also had a sexual relationship with her. It's not enough to tell Mystra no (maybe it's not even possible), they ACTIVELY HIDE children gifted with/studying magic. Mystra can, does, and makes a concerted effort to mark any strong connection to the Weave.

Logically, it doesn't make sense that one of Mystra's Chosen- one that she has a sexual relationship with born out of being a teacher, a guide, a muse & where she monopolizes their time- can dig into relics of her other forms or fragments of her current self or (if you're boring imo) echos of a different wielder of the Weave who had a Myst- name, and she doesn't know it at least before he has the final piece of the puzzle to go after the Netherese orb.

I think that Mystra frankly gets off on being cold to the boys she grooms and seeing how far she can push them. If anything, Gale's attempt to restore her and be her equal is a slight against her in her mind- she doesn't want equals and it disgusts her- and communicates to her that there's a point where he won't lay down and take her abuse or give in to a cycle of abuse. I say this because from both DnD lore and another possible Minsc conversation we know that Elminster was also in a similar dynamic with Mystra and yet he always suffers, returns, and in Baldur's Gate 3 enables her death wish for Gale.

Thinking of Mystra and Gale, it's a bit like thinking of podcast bros and that flavor of men who tout their desire for a trad wife but spend their time desperate to break in or break down a woman who is the antithesis of that. Gale thinks so much of his power is because of his particularly intimate relationship to Mystra and that he has to become more and more worthy but in reality she does what she does to him because he has always been capable of wielding to Weave to the point of godhood.

Magic Pope who is also the Holy Spirit fucking a child or else someone she closely monitored and reached out to in their childhood is enough to know that Mystra is horrific and that Gale was trapped and damned if he does, damned if he don't BEFORE he got brain worms but good lord, you can't stop there. I think interpretations that say Mystra as a goddess just ~can't understand~ Gale's mortal needs or the power play or whatever are still in a very one dimensional reading.

[nooradeservedbetter]

i’ve been tagged in a writing game by @sedfierisentio; apparently we’re supposed to share our most recent sentences, and I have two types of most recent sentences, I’m gonna just share both :D

First one, non fiction, a petty answer that started as a way to address some anti-intellectual takes in political activism, is devolving into a mini essay on academia being elitist and study of political theory:

These same people, with their experience and their pride and their organisations—these same people turn around and tell you they won’t study theory, because if you’re not able to explain it to them like they’re five, then it’s useless.

And by doing so, not only they dismiss those people they claim they’re thinking about, but with the weird accusation of classism they seem to imply that working class people cannot and will not get educated, and asking them to do so is doing them a disservice.

While those talking points are just background noise, there are, it must be said, some fundamental truths in what those people assert.

The first one, that you don’t really interiorise a concept until you’re able to explain it to someone who knows nothing about it; calling back to my family, my brother (fresh from his Master’s in Algebra and Geometry) and my father (a seasoned seventy-something who is a former Maths professor) trying to explain the same concept to me have wildly different outcomes. That is not to say, my brother doesn’t understand anything, but he’s got less time to interiorise the concepts, he still thinks I need to know everything about any minutia in the subject, while dad understand I’ve got a Master’s in applied linguistics, I really needn’t know why the formula is like this and not like that, and why the ring vibrates at n frequency.

The second one, a fic, is a feel good piece about Teen Wolfl, and despite what there’s written here, it will end up being a sterek with enough time:

There are warm fairy lights floating all around them, dancing in Lydia’s hair, and Lydia would surely be able to control her magic, if their roles were reversed.

Lydia lets the fairy lights rest on her hand, makes a floating chain with them. His magic likes her a lot, and since his magic cannot lie, Lydia knows that he loves her.

I mean, she’s his girlfriend, so it’s a bit of a given.

 Lydia doesn’t scream this time, but Stiles just might.

He’d been in his bed (not with Lydia, because they’re not allowed to sleep in the same room anymore, and, while Stiles understands, it doesn’t mean he’s happy about it), trying to read up on an assignment at his normal school, and, feeling a presence behind him, he fully expected that to be Lydia, but instead it had been Mum, frayed and scared.

“Let’s go,” she’d said. “There’s someone.”

I’m not sure if this was what this meme was trying to accomplish, probably a fanfic teaser, but the last thing I’ve ever written is literally half a baked reply to yt anarchists who don’t study some political activists lmao.

I also don’t know who to tag because I was out of tumblr for like, two years. But if you’re writing something, tag me and let me read it!

[jaynestownfireflys]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Cora Hale Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Post season 3a Series: Part 2 of The Sword of Damocles Summary:

"Connection," Derek replied immediately. "Family, friends, trust, love, it all boils down to connection. A strong pack, a pack that's working, that's meant to be, it just... the connections are there. You can just feel it." He tried to think of a way of describing something he'd never tried to put into words before. "It's like-"

"Like you're all pieces of the same jigsaw puzzle and someone's just snapped you all together." It wasn't, quite, said like a question.

"Yes," Derek said, nodding his head even though he doubted Stiles could see it in the darkened room. "Exactly like that."

[thewolfkrp-blog]

RULE CHANGE!

Hello, wolflings! Coming at you this week, we have a rule change.  In case you don’t know, two of our accepted muses tonight are third muses.  Admin Bigby and Admin Faith both kicked off the start of our third muse acceptances because they were both excited for this change.  We’ve been pleased with the amount of activity from everyone so far, but this is an incentive to help kick it up a notch.  Please keep in mind that third muses will only be granted to our very active members, and we’ll be very strict on who we allow them to.  If we see that you’re struggling already with two muses, you won’t be allowed a third until your activity evens out.

The guidelines page has been updated to reflect this rule, but here is the change so you can see it without having to hunt it down:

After you’ve applied and joined with your second muse, you have activity restrictions you must adhere to until you’re able to pick up your third muse. You must be highly active for one month on both muses to the date of your second muse being picked up. One month equals four activity checks after you join with your second muse. The day you pick up your second muse does not count as an activity check. To be considered highly active, you must be doing beyond the minimum activity requirements: there should be more than just four replies on each muse for that month. This is to ensure that people are clearly capable of balancing three muses. Admins will be checking your blogs to make sure. This means you have to reserve your third muse from one of your character blogs. You cannot reserve your third muse on anon.

Thanks for being active, wolflings :’) We can’t wait to see what new muses you create with us!

[reformedkingsmanagent]

Could you write a Charlie x Agent!Reader where the reader is an American in Kingsman and she helps him out with stuff and they flirt with each other but she doesn't think that he's really into her because she's fat and she's more of the rough and tumble country bumpkin type with a southern accent and not rich or extravagant and it’s just fluffy? Thank you, Wolfling 🐺❄️

AN: I hope this is alright!

Prompt: An American Kingsman Agent in London (I think I’m so funny)

Pairing: Charlie x reader

Word Count: 1825

“How did you manage to join Kingsman?” Charlie ignored the pointed glares from Roxy and Eggsy as he leveled his spoon in your direction. “I thought Kingsman was a distinctly British enterprise?” He smiled and you felt your nerves grow. Why did he have to sit across from you?

You focused your eyes on the bowl in front of you, suddenly thinking about home. You didn’t owe him any answers. In fact, it would bother him more if you didn’t tell him anything. You could finally start paying him back for the flirtatious comments he seemed to always send your way.

“What, can’t handle the thought that your precious pedigree means nothing?” Eggsy cut in, smiling as he watched the amusement fade from Charlie’s face. Roxy hid her own smile behind her hand. “Just leave her alone.”

“It was just a question,” Charlie replied, doing his best to hide his own reaction. He dropped the spoon into the bowl with a clatter and scooted his chair back, tossing his napkin on the table before storming out of the room.

“Great. Now he’s going to be insufferable until something goes his way,” Roxy groaned. “Y/N, you’re good with him— go cheer him up?” You set down your spoon, a confused expression on your face.

“What does that mean? Why me?” You were lying, you knew exactly what Roxy was trying to do. She always suspected you had a crush on the posh Kingsman poster boy but no matter how much pushing she did, you never discussed your feelings with anyone. Charlie was a royal pain, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was undeniably handsome and he could be nice, sometimes. But it wasn’t going to happen. He seemed to have fun teasing you, and you could tolerate that, but you weren’t ready to let yourself get hurt.

“Y/N, just go to him. Let him apologize.” You didn’t know why Roxy was so insistent, but you knew she wasn’t going to let you get away with a simple refusal. There was some other reason for her pushing you to go after him. Even Eggsy seemed a bit uncertain.

“He’s just being a baby. He’ll be fine,” Eggsy looked at Roxy, an eyebrow raised.

“You two aren’t the ones who have to go on a mission with him tomorrow, in case you’ve forgotten.” She looked at you, eyes begging for your help. “I would really appreciate it.”

You sighed, unable to deny Roxy anything, and got up from the table. You really didn’t know how she expected you to help, but she seemed to know something you didn’t. You abandoned your friends to go search for the bruised ego walking around calling itself Charlie.

“Lost?” You spun around as the familiar voice echoed through the hallway. He was standing near the end of the hall, dressed down in his gym clothes.

“You know I’m not lost, Charlie. I’ve been here for months already.” Why did every word that came out of his mouth have some sort of biting sarcasm behind it? You rolled your eyes, about to give up on Roxy’s request. Just as you turned around to leave, he called out to you.

“Wait—” You stopped and turned back towards him. He seemed a little surprised that you stayed. You were too. “Uh, care to join me? I could use a spotter, if you don’t have anything else to do.”

You didn’t, but going to the gym with Charlie of all people made you a bit uncomfortable. But as you studied him, seeing the genuine interest in his eyes, you decided to risk it. What was the worst that could happen? “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

You noticed the corners of his lips turn up a little, but he kept the smile off his face. “Alright.”

You weren’t sure if this qualified as cheering him up, but he seemed in a better mood at least. You would be lying if you said you weren’t impressed by how strong he was. Seeing this was just an added bonus.

He lowered and raised the bar holding quite a bit of weight, his arms straining, his breathing labored. You kept your fingers curled under the bar, lightly resting against it, just in case you felt him weaken. He moved the bar back into the rest and sat up, keeping his back to you as he took a big sip from a bottle of water. You moved away from the bench and sat on the edge of the one next to it.

“Thank you,” he glanced over his shoulder, eyes not quite meeting yours. He reached down into the bag at his feet and pulled out a towel to wipe his face. “Why are you always so nice to me?”

That surprised you. It had never occurred to you that he would notice, or care. “I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I guess I’m just not naturally prone to attacking people.”

“Ouch,” he smiled. “I guess I deserved that.” He stood up and removed the clip holding the weights in place, nodding for you to get the other side. “Put what you want on there, I’ll match it.” He was halfway through taking off the large weight but stopped as you slid on a second identical weight. “See, now you’re just showing off.” You shrugged as you took your place on the bench.

“What, you think I can’t do it?” He added the second weight and replaced the clip before taking his place behind the rack. He leaned over the bar with a smile on his face.

“No, I know you can do it. I just thought you might hold yourself back a bit so you didn’t make me feel so pathetic.” You smiled at him as you lifted the bar off the rack, him lightly resting his fingers on the underside of the bar. His hands dwarfed yours, now that you were looking at them. “I guess I owe you an apology, for earlier.”

“No, it’s alright,” you grunted, pushing the bar up, “like you said, you were just asking.”

“Still, there are more delicate ways to ask those sorts of questions. You don’t deserve that from me. It was rude.” It was hard to tell because from your perspective he was upside down, but you thought you saw an emotion flash in his eyes. Regret? You couldn’t pretend to know for sure. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you.” You lifted the bar onto the rack and stayed there on your back for a moment. He leaned over and watched you as you wiped at your forehead with the back of your hand. “What?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s the flush in your face or just that you’re here with me, but I can’t keep my eyes off you.” His sudden confession made you jolt upright in shock. No no no. You took advantage of the fact that your back was to him to try to reign in your reaction.

“That’s good, you really got me,” you laughed dryly, hoping he wasn’t making some sort of grand proclamation. You weren’t equipped to deal with that. Besides, it would never happen. He was just flirting, trying to make you uncomfortable. You weren’t Charlie’s type. “Very funny.”

He walked around the bench and knelt down in front of you. He was frowning. “There’s nothing funny about it.” He was upset. You had offended him. “I like you.”

He said it so simply, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Meanwhile, your mind was racing, trying to come up with a rational reason for all this. You had nothing. You believed him, but…you couldn’t explain it. “You don’t have to do this, Charlie.”

“What are you talking about?” His confusion left you feeling unsteady, though your feet were planted firmly on the floor.

“I’m not your type?” You clarified. If you thought he was confused before, now he was absolutely perplexed.

“What is my type?” He asked this with a cold expression, eyes focused on you. “Since you seem so educated on the subject,” he added. There was the snark.

“I can’t have this conversation,” you stated. You avoided eye contact and clasped your hands together in your lap.

“No, tell me. What. Is. My. Type.” He had gone from zero to scarily-calm-anger in seconds. You glanced up but regretted it when you saw the anger in his features.

“Not me,” you answered, looking down at your hands for a moment before meeting his eyes again. His expression softened. “I just…you’re so handsome, and you’re a fantastic agent…you seem like you could have anyone,” you tried to explain, “which would make more sense than what you just said to me.” He reached out for you but you put your hands up and he stopped. “So I get it.”

“I’m flattered, but it’s not that simple.” He got closer, still down on his knees. “What I want is precisely what I can’t have.” You felt one of his hands close around your wrist, but you didn’t fight against him. “Because I seem to be ruining this more and more by the second.” He looked down at his hand wrapped around your wrist and he moved it down to lace his fingers through yours.

“Charlie, you don’t need to pretend—”

“I’m not.” He got to his feet and sat down on the bench next to you, keeping your hands linked. “You’re a great agent. And you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. Don’t doubt yourself.” He was smiling at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back. You couldn’t believe it. “When I get back, maybe we can go out for some drinks, see where this goes?”

He looked hopeful, but you just felt butterflies wreaking havoc on your insides. His touch had gone from comforting to shocking. He was asking you out, you, the last person you expected him to have any interest in. “Is that a no?” He asked, his smile disappearing. “It’s alright, I knew this was too forward.” He let go of you and moved to stand up, but you finally snapped out of your daze and grabbed his arm, pulling him down. “What—”

You cut him off by kissing him. You felt him go still but moments later his hand reached up to cup the back of your head, pressing your mouth more firmly against his. You felt amazement, followed immediately by relief. When the kiss was over, he kept a hold on your head, foreheads touching.

“Was that a yes?” He asked, grinning. “I guess I have something to look forward to when the mission is over.” He leaned in for another kiss and you let him, one of your hands moving up to touch his cheek.

“Or we could get dinner, and I could tell you all about how I wound up here,” you suggested.

“That sounds perfect.”

[kingsmanstories]

Sing

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader Warnings: none Request: @native-snowflake “Hi! Could you maybe write a Whiskey xAgent!Reader based on the song 'I Feel A Sin Comin' On' by Pistol Annie's? Where she's also a southerner and they have to go undercover and part of her cover is to sing? They both have feelings for each other and maybe this will bring them out? Thanks, Wolfling ❄️🐺”

This wasn’t the first time you’d been undercover with Whiskey. This time, the two of you were undercover as a couple from Nashville, Tennessee and it was definitely up both of your streets. With the both of you being southerners, you fit in extremely well. 

Part of your mission was to go to a local bar, and befriend the target, who happened to be one of the world’s largest drug dealers. Your task was to win his trust, so you could find out more about the organisation at hand. 

The two of you walked into the bar, straight into character. You was a budding country singer, and Whiskey was the supportive husband. Whiskey spotted the man at the bar, and you both walked over to him. He was expecting to meet you both here, so you immediately greeted him. “Steven, Hi.” You said, making a point to drag out your southern drawl.

The man tipped his hat at you both, “You made it, huh? How’s the music going?” he said, ordering both you and Whiskey a drink. 

Smiling extremely over-enthusiastically, you replied, “Great, thanks, darlin’.” you took a sip of your drink, and Whiskey spoke up.

“She’s brilliant, she really is, y’know. She’s performing here tonight, too.” He said, and you almost choked on your drink. 

Yeah, you could sing, but you’d never sung in front of anyone before in your life, and you never planned on doing so. But, here we are. You made a mental note to make Whiskey pay for this when the mission was over. 

The night went on, and you soon got most of the information you needed on the man’s organisation and who he was working with. Before you knew it, it was time for your little ‘performance’, and it turns out Whiskey had already ‘booked’ you in to perform in advance.

Before you went onto the small stage in the corner of the bar, Whiskey pulled you into a brief kiss, which certainly didn’t help with the nerves.

The bar fell silent as soon as you took to the stage, and everyone waited in anticipation. As soon as you started to sing, Whiskey’s jaw fell slightly.

He knew he’d fell for you, for real.