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thehoneybeet · 17 hours ago

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this is a lovely discussion, and i love the concept of social recognition euphoria and same-hat intimacy, and i want to talk more about it, and what we mean when we say 'community'.

(@letteredlettered just made some very similar points in this post as I was drafting this, but i'll put this here anyway!)

going back to the initial post, i think i'm interpreting the Big Feelings somewhat differently than even the OP of that post. to me, this is not about comments or kudos, really, at all. it's about someone whose work was that 'same hat', same-aesthetic thing, who discovered that there was a whole private community of people same-hatting with each other about the author's work without extending that invitation to them. it's about realising there is a whole community of people who like the same things you like, who clearly adore your writing, who have the same hat, but have no interest or desire to have a hat-discussion with you about it. and that can hurt.

a comment is just an entry point into community. i have found community with some amazing people because of comments i've left on their fics, or comments they have left on mine. a comment, i think, isn't a goal in itself. it isn't the end - it's a beginning. it's a doorway.

whether a reader wants to open that door is up to them, as others have said better than i can. but that's not really what the root of this is about, to me. as others have said, quantifying kudos/comments is a poor substitute for the qualitative, soul-warming kind of witnessing and wet-braining that makes the fandom experience so wonderful. when you have a community who get your work, whose energy you can mingle with, it gets easier to not care about how many kudos or comments you have. and likewise, i think bad feelings surrounding kudos/comments are in a way, a facade for the the thing that hurts more - feeling the absence of that kind of connection.

as yiikes said, we aren't owed this nourishment, but i want to extend the conversation a bit into thinking more about how we create community with each other and other people we haven't met yet. what do we owe each other?

what they said at the end feels like the heart of things: "there are huge appetites for structures and practices in fandom that make that kind of intimacy easier for newcomers to find."

i've been here for a little while - longer than some, not as long as others. and lately, at least around my corner of things, i have seen a proliferation of a particular kind of fandom experience: the invite-only server, the private ao3 challenge, groups and experiences that you need to be in-the-know about to even begin to participate in. that, essentially, require an invitation.

these spaces can be wonderful, and there is absolutely room in fandom for these things. close friendships are some of the yummiest food in fandom. but often, the unintentional side effect of squeeing about these things publicly is that other people will see it (after the fact, at the end of challenge, etc.), and wonder how they too can participate, how they too can be inside, and they won't know. often, the view from the outside looks like a window, rather than a door.

i guess what i'm trying to say is that while we don't necessarily owe people comments, or conversations, or membership in our circles, i do think we owe each other to think about how we can engage in these things as kindly as possible. how we can make it easier for newcomers to ask to be invited in, how we can be more proactive about inviting, and most importantly, how we can encourage the kinds of community that don't require an invitation at all.

re - your last post, as a writer i find that to be an absurd take. people who write exclusively for validation probably shouldn't. if discovering your work is enjoyed and loved - just privately - is a dealbreaker for you, i think there are probably bigger issues that need to be worked through. the idea that we write fic for free and yet this discussion about "payment" through kudos/comments persists is so backwards and obnoxious.

sorry to tag you on this, obv you have nothing to do with op, but i just wanted to say - as a writer recs are a HUGE deal. to know that you liked something enough to share it with others is the biggest compliment for me personally. thanks for doing what you do.

I’m happy you reached out because this is a really interesting perspective. I definitely see increased messaging around comments = payment that pressures readers into thinking they are required to leave comments, and I agree that there are many layers in this convo that point out to a not-so-healthy relationship with fandom.

I find it hard to join this discussion not being an author myself, because I only have the privileged perspective. Ofc I understand how important feedback can be to boost newcomers and those who don’t feel part of the community. We all deal with insecurity in different ways and it’s hard to navigate a big fandom when you don’t have a group of friends to rely on. In the end the fandom experience is about a sense of belonging and it saddens me to realize that I might be part of the problem since my recs only reach Tumblr and my ao3 comments are far and few in between.

It’s funny because my blog has always targeted other readers: at the beginning I didn’t even tag authors and did not expect them to find or engage with my posts. Over the years the recs became more and more personal, until I realized I was writing them for myself. Sure, they are love letters to the fic and might help more people find them, but at the end of the day this is my little therapy corner where I can let go and babble around to my heart’s content 🙏🏼 I’ve always been proud of this blog and seeing that post gave me mixed feelings about it for the first time, so thank you for your message!

Again, I think this discussion has many layers and I’m a bit wary to get involved being a humble reader, but I’d be curious to see how others feel about it…

#fandom thoughts

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takamiwife · 3 days ago

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Got sick and can not stop coughing at all and yhe worst part is my period started the same time rip

Could i request a lil comfort thing for hawks or dabi comforting the reader who is sick and also feels even worse cause she has rlly bad cramps?

AWW I HOPE YOURE FEELING BETTER :(( sorry this is likely out after you’re all better but this still deserves to be written !! if you’ve submitted something to my inbox dw, i have seen it and it’s in my drafts, im just going in order!! 💞 also, there’s some sex and the city spoilers toward the end of it, for season 3, so just watch out for that if you’re watching it/interested in watching it!

well, sick season was back and hit you full force. you woke up, your throat feeling like it had been scratched by a thousand cats and your nose stuffed. you groaned, your voice barely coming out above a whisper. you shuffled out into the kitchen, nearly passing out from reaching up into the cabinet to get some tea.

“baby? are you okay? you’re up early” keigo yawned, following you out into the kitchen

all it took was for you to turn around, looking at keigo; tired, darkened eyes, puffy cheeks, and your body being able to stand.

“jesus, you definitely are not,” he frowned, putting a hand to your forehead. “you don’t feel like you have a fever… here, come on, sit down,” he guides you over to the couch, watching as you slump against the comfortable throw pillows. he hands you the remote and moves back into the kitchen, immediately making you some tea — you never seemed to have an appetite when you were sick, but hopefully you could handle this.

after adorning your tea with honey, he moved back to the couch, placing them in front of you, replacing the throw pillows with his own body as you lay on his lap.

you whimper, holding your stomach; as if everything else wasn’t bad enough, the universe decided to curse you with cramps too.

he stroked your hair, using a few of his feathers to retrieve the pill bottle from the bathroom, not wanting to move from his position. he opened the red-capped bottle, tapping a few pills into his hand. “here, cmon, you can sit up for me right?” he coos, helping you sit up and make sure you toon the pills, hopefully to at least help with the pain. “there we go, that’s my girl” he smiled

“don’t you have work?” you say quietly, moving your head back down to his lap.

“i can be a little late, they can manage without me. don’t worry about it, alright?” he said softly, running his hands along your side.

now, had you woken up with dabi, it would go a little different.

you lay in your shared bed, surrounded by his scent, but your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. he had been out all night doing.. god knows what with the league, and you had woken up with all of the worst symptoms imaginable. you scrolled on your phone, praying he’d be back soon so he could help you.

luckily, something listened, as he cracked the door open, trying his best to be quiet; a surprisingly sweet gesture from him when he was out all night on missions.

“shit, are you okay?” he kneeled in front of you. “you look awful”

“thanks for the reminder,” you say through a stuffed nose. “my throat is on fire, i can barely breathe through my nose, and of course i have to have fucking cramps..”

“well.. hey, at least you aren’t pregnant” he shrugged

you glare at him, a small part of you finding the silver lining a bit amusing

“can you.. help me, please? you know, like a good boyfriend?” you hide your smile

“uhh…” dabi trailed off, playing with a strand of your hair. of course he wanted to help, he just.. didn’t really know how. he didn’t really get sick, and if he did he just popped whatever pill was in his cabinet and said fuck it and continued on. “yea.. what do you want? we’ve probably got a whole stash somewhere - xanax, percocet, oxy, if you want something a little stronger.. uh, a little coke might not hurt, just rub it on your gums”

“are you insane?” you stare at him blankly. “do you just have, like.. tylenol? midol? anything like that? and not.. crushed up and in a line. in pill form”

“yea, yea, let me go check. pussy..” he muttered, shooting you a smirk.

you used your little strength to smack his arm, unable to hide your smile.

after digging around under his sink, he was finally able to find some normal, non-hard drug tylenol.

he returned to you, holding onto your side as you sat up, taking the pills with a swig of water.

“you uh.. really don’t feel good, do you?”

“you couldn’t tell?” you ask through your scratchy voice.

as you lay back down, he looked at you, your eyes closing as you groaned. he tried to remember back when he was a child; there was a short period of time where he got quite sick during the winter, and his mother was nothing short of a saint. cartoons, warm soup, medicinal tea, cool wash clothes on the forehead.. the whole nine yards. it was clear that what you needed right now was him, and he was more than willing to give that to you.

“c’mere..” he shuffled beside you, pulling you onto his chest. “are you.. hungry? do you want anything warm? that’d help your throat, right?”

“not right now.. just wanna sleep right now..” you say into his chest, and he pulls the warm blanket over you, kissing your head as you fall back asleep, finally sound and able.

now, as you fell back asleep on keigo’s lap, he knew he couldn’t ignore his work any longer or they’d have his head on a spike. in an indiana-jones style move, he replaced his lap with a pillow, draping a blanket over your sleeping form. he kneeled in front of you, watching you sleep as he kissed your forehead.

“i’ll be back soon, okay? i’m sorry i have to leave..” he whispered, brushing some hair away from your face.

luckily, with the day being quite boring, within about three hours of working, he was able to convince his side kicks to take over for the day; “you guys can handle this, i have a sick girlfriend i need to take care of. i mean, what horrible things are going to happen, it’s a random tuesday.”

back at home, you stirred back to life, the pain now having subsided a decent amount. you reach for your phone on the coffee table that sat beside your tea, clicking keigo’s contact. he picked up rather quickly, his voice being a comfort on the other line.

“hey my love, finally awake huh?” you could hear his smile through the screen.

“yea, i just woke up”

“ah, well your throat sounds a bit better. how are the cramps?”

“um, a lot better.. sorry to make you late, but i appreciate you staying with me”

keigo chuckled

“they were fine without me, love. actually, i just left them”

“what? but-“

“but nothing. i’m on my way home, want me to get your favorite?”

you sit up, smiling. “…if it isn’t too much trouble”

“i figured you’d say that. i’m already on my way there. i’ll see you soon, okay?”

“okay.. i love you”

“i love you too”

still being held in dabi’s arms, you slept surprisingly soundly despite everything. he slipped out of your grip, making sure you were comfortable before going to the raggedy kitchen downstairs, searching for anything that could make you feel better. but he was doubtful the crumbs in the dirty cupboards would help much. so, with no other choice, he put on his hoodie and a mask, pulling it up over his nose, less likely to be recognized.

so, after walking a few blocks to the nearest convenience store (that also happened to have a deli), he returned home with your favorite soup, a box of tea bags, and an ice cream bar for you to enjoy later if you felt better. after placing the ice cream in the fridge, he made a nice warm cup of tea (thanks to the help of his quirk) and brought that, along with your soup up to the room, setting it on the bedside table.

“hey,” he shook you gently. “i got you something.”

“mmh.. you’re supposed to let sick people sleep.” you whined.

“fine, go on and sleep, but your soup is gonna get cold”

you opened your eyes; okay, you were quite hungry now. you reluctantly sat up, placing your back against the wall.

“there she is,” he grinned slyly. “morning sunshine” he said, handing you the cup of soup with the plastic spoon. “and there’s um.. tea, too.”

“wow, you really went all out, huh?” you smile from over the cup.

“of course i did. it’s for you, after all.” he brushed it off.

“well, thank you honey.” you coo, gently scratching his chin. damn, he loved when you did that.

he sat beside you, occasionally accepting bites of your soup.

“if i get sick from this, you’re so dead” he

“you’d love me taking care of you, don’t lie”

“…fair enough”

within about forty five minutes, keigo had returned home, takeout bags in hand as you paused your show. he placed them down on the coffee table in front of you, unpacking them.

“thank you, kei. i mean it, really. you didn’t have to do all this.” you say, smiling at him as he came back with plates for the two of you.

“what do you mean? of course i did. i love you, and you didn’t feel good, so of course i had to help you feel better.” he said, placing the food onto a plate and handing it to you.

“well, still-“

“still nothing,” he cut you off, leaning toward you. “you take care of me all the time. this was nothing compared to all you do for me.”

your heart swelled as you stared at his determined face.

“now, catch me up. what’s going on with the girls?” he gestured to the tv.

“well, carrie just cheated on aidan with mr. big…”

after a few hours of lazing about and watching your favorite show on dabi’s phone, he returned to the room with his hands behind his back.

“i got something else for you, too… figured since you’re feeling better..” he pulled out the wrapped ice cream bar, holding it out to you.

“oh, baby..”

“i know it’s not the best, but it could help your throat feel better and.. i dunno, you like ice cream, so..”

you sit up on your knees on the bed, pulling him into a hug.

and as you enjoy your treat, he sits beside you.

“so, feeling better?”

“much. thank you, doctor.” you tease.

“well.. good. i don’t like seeing you like this.”

you lean your head on his shoulder, holding your ice cream up to him.

as much as he hated seeing you sick, dabi loved taking care of you for the day. of course he wanted you to feel better, but.. he wouldn’t mind another day of holding you in bed.

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hockeyboistrash · 15 hours ago

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red | j.h

This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy . My song is Red ��

Losing him was blue, like I'd never known

It was a warm summer's evening but not hot enough that you could go without a jumper. You remember that because you were wearing Jack's high school hockey jumper. He gave it to you a couple of months after you started dating when you got cold on one of your dates. You never gave it back because Jack always said it looked better on you than him, his eyes twinkled with love when he said that. You missed that look.

Jack could barely look you in the eyes now. His usual confident aura was replaced with nerves. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his grey shorts and his gaze was on the floor. You didn’t know where this came from. One minute you were talking about your future together after college and the draft, the next Jack was breaking up with you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He mumbled. You had so many mixed emotions. Upset because the love of your life was breaking up with you. Angry because he was breaking up with you without a good reason. Angry because he can’t look you in the eye and do it.

“You’re breaking up with me and that’s all you can say? Sorry?” You tried to keep your voice calm, wanting to hide how his words affected you. “Why, Jack? Why are you doing this? I don’t understand. Did someone say something to you?” Jack glanced at you for a fleeting moment, enough to see the guilt in his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stood frozen as you watched Jack walk away. Tears silently falling down your cheeks and your heart hurt. Your first heartbreak is the one that hurts you most after all.

Missing him was dark gray, all alone

It was nights like this when you missed Jack. Rain was pelting the windows, the electricity had gone out and you were cold. If Jack was here he’d have you wrapped in his arms, curled up in bed together keeping each other warm. Jack would then get bored and pepper soft kisses over your face, getting lower and lower, his fingers dancing at the waistband of your leggings. You missed him.

It was one of your favourite memories together, the weather was similar to tonights. Rain was falling heavily, pelting the windows with force, it was cold and the electricity was out. With Jack though, you felt safe. The torrential downpour outside was pushed to the back of your mind and so was the power outage.

Candle light danced across Jack’s features, highlighting the concentration on his face. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. It was cute how into the card game he was. “Just pick a card.” You said, sighing playfully.

“I can’t just pick a card.” He grumbled, frowning at his cards trying to figure out which one to put down. Before you could tease him more, a boom of thunder shook the windows making you jump. “Come here.” Jack said, opening his arm out for you. The card game now forgotten. You put your own cards down, scooting over to Jack and tucking yourself in his arms. “It’s okay.” He mumbled against your head.

The two of you stayed in each other's arms long enough for the thunderstorm to pass. “Sorry.” You apologised, feeling embarrassed about being scared of the storm.

“You don’t need to apologise, Y/N.” Jack assured you, brushing a stray bit of hair out of the way. “I’m here for you, always.” He promised, cupping your cheek and pressing a soft kiss onto your lips.

He wasn’t here though. His side of the bed remained cold, the moments together remained a distant memory.

Forgetting him was like trying to know Somebody you never met

How were you expected to move on from your first love when his face was plastered everywhere. Just when you think you’re doing better he pops up and you’re slipping back to old habits, looking at old photos of you together and missing him.

You got to give your friends credit though. They tried to help you move on, to forget about Jack Hughes. They set you up on dates, took you out to bars to meet guys. They did everything they could but something in the back of your mind would always go back to Jack.

Tonight had to be the worst blind date you’ve been on yet. He wouldn’t stop talking about your ex. You felt a pit in your stomach form when you saw the tv at the bar had hockey on and then your date noticed and made comments throughout the night. He was a Rangers fan talking shit about the Devils. You tried not to let it bother you, you weren’t dating Jack anymore so why do you care what some random guy said about him and his team.

That was the problem. You did care about him. Jack Hughes was a guy you could never forget.

But loving him was red

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this but after a shitty night and a few drinks all common sense went out the window. Your heart that was haphazardly stitched back together would only break again yet you found yourself dialling the familiar number.

“Y/N?” Jack said, picking up his phone. You felt your mouth go dry not expecting him to answer. “Are you okay?” He asked, concern lacing his voice. You could hear him go somewhere quieter, the voices in the background disappearing.

“I’m not okay, Jack. You broke my heart. I loved you and you broke my heart. I can’t escape this feeling because you are everywhere. I can’t go on dates without thinking about you. I miss you. I shouldn’t but I do. So no, I’m not okay because you messed me up Jack Hughes. You gave me the best years and the worst years of my life. I hate you but I love you at the same time. I’m not okay.” The filter in your brain disappeared, words tumbled out and they didn’t stop yet it felt like a weight had been lifted. Years of words accumulating burst.

“Where are you? I’ll come and get you.” Jack said after a beat of silence. The logical side of you knew this was a bad idea but you found yourself wanting to see him, the years of pain slowly being forgotten. Loving him was red after all.

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #the eras tour fic challenge

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nb-atsushi · 1 day ago

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oh- so thats what fresh is. i wasnt actually entirely sure about that. i thought it was just one of those words foodies throw around like "kosher." but like- its like eating sashimi versus a cooked fish if you cook it can you still really taste it? not that it matters because i almost definitely dont have any of those tools. I have exactly one pot a stove and a microwave.... and an oven. im not sure how that works though. or how to skin something

and no why would i be a vegetarian? I know when i die i- [atsushi pauses seeming to actually realize they dont know what to do with their body after they die] maybe burned? thats small and unobtrusive right? like a little urn? i dunno or be buried on kenjis farm or something. he keeps talking about bones as fertilizer

Ehhh, hey, you're that fuckin' were tiger right?? Any idea what those fuckin' rumors about you eating people are about?

> [ @chuuya-eatin-ppl ]

[They give a deep and tired sigh] you too? Didn't I just- [Atsushi holds up seven fingers and starts lowering them one at a time] maneating tiger was just because people were scared. no I did not eat my parent, no they did not eat me, I did not eat myself, I did not eat shibusawa, and I did not eat the headmaster. I ate chickens.

#chuuya rends to eat his raw some times and cook it other times- but like his entire meat diet is just ppl lmao #<- king shit actually #and he knows atushi is technically againdt that so hes starting w/ the atleast tamer vers.#<- smart smart i do think though that atsushi personally would be easier to convince to eat the shit raw #bc i think some part of byakko would actually want that #specifically raw and still warm but thats less frequently an option #ccombining hunting info + cannibalism to get this rough draft of what itd peob be??#<- no its actually rad thi #tho #like atsushi absolutely could be swayed #and i do think shed like it but theyd also have multiple breakdowns over it after #also i enjoy making atsushi a bit of a dumbass #theyre a foodie but they do not have the money for good food and they feel guilty about it when they do

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whosthere54 · 3 days ago

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Ok ok ok Royal au Royal au ararararah

now to yap about my Royal au cause I’m normal. (Longer post- I just infodump about my AU basically-)

So what I have in drafts is all mainly brothers or prison duo centric, as if you know my fics I usually write from Icarus’s perspective on things. The main ships I would be focusing on are ghaae, nightingstar, Wolftross, and then prison duo- but I have cameos of all of the cannon ships of course. I’m gonna kind of just go through and explain roles of my main guys tho- so hope you like this as a sort of starting summary? I guess?

Icarus is the crown prince of the gilded kingdom. Basically the other full representative of the overworld who’s not Fable. Basically, they are heir to the throne, have to maintain a public image, help Fable out with royal duties and pretty much prepare to be the next monarch to ensure a smooth transition if “mortal king Fable” passes away. (He can’t die- I’ll get to that maybe- but yknow. God.)

I’ll talk about Isla and things later in this post, so I won’t mention it now- but yeah. Icarus is the only heir to the gilded kingdom.

Centross is Icarus’s bodyguard (yes I’m going down that road for the prison duo content. I’m so unpredictable /silly/sarc/lh) Royal guard? Close enough probably. Which- idk if I have to get into what he does. I think you can assume. Protection stuff. He was a former assassin, having used to work with Enderian. I’m doing a cliche maybe- but- yknow- he was sent to kill Icarus, ended up unable to do so… so now he’s a bodyguard for them instead of going back to Enderian. (There’s probably a promise of mutual protection somewhere- I’m sure Icarus would not have let Fable give them a bodyguard before then, and when he did they’d make it everyone’s problem- instead wanting to prove they could protect themself. There’s something there. Yeah.)

Wolftross is yes a thing, I think they were probably together for a while- maybe not long after he first became a royal guard. At Icarus’s request, he can visit Fenris whenever he wants probably. Easton replaces him when he’s gone (even after he became blind- at Icarus’s request he will continue that role. They trust him- and he’s capable.)

In the one thing I wrote, I gave him end features as well. I’m moreso debating on that- but I think it’d be a cool thing as a byproduct of being one of Enderian’s closest advisors and trusted assasin. Or- I give them to him later when he gets to be god. He gets them at some point- for me.

Rae is the crown prince of the end kingdom- full representative of the end that is not Enderian. I’d think she gives him more freedom than Icarus gets from fable, her being the end mother she is. She did have the same I guess cruel past that she does in cannon- I’m trying to figure out how I’m translating s1 into this AU still, and maybe you’ll get a oneshot of that eventually. Atleast the prison arc- of course. He left the gilded kingdom (either with Isla, or later on his own I have drafts for. But- probably with Isla) and lived with Isla for a bit- she runs for help from soul and things like in cannon and she helps hide them for a bit. Though- Isla ends up having Rae stay with Enderian. She probably stays as long as she can without compermising Rae’s safety, but maybe gets caught by Fable eventually.

Fenris is Rae’s bodyguard. He is a former general for the Nether’s army, just like in cannon. (I have to rewatch some of his lore before confidently talking about how he gets to become Rae’s bodyguard, so I’m sorry I won’t have too much info at the moment <3)

He becomes Rae’s bodyguard later- Enderian probably heard of his reputation as “the wolf” and hired him. (May try to include the wolf arc- but am again, trying to figure out how to integrate it.)

Now- basic plot summary? Something of the sort? Yeah. Some random details too cause I have no one train of thought ever and am just writing whatever I think of down. /lh

So for some backstory- Islas story is basically the same as in lore. But it changes for that bit after Rae was born just to adhere to the different circumstances Royal AU brings to the table. So, Rae grows a bit before Isla takes him and runs in this AU- he’s older, couldn’t tell you how old (age is a lie/silly/j) but just. A child. She notices how he’s being treated by Fable, takes him and leaves. She doesn’t take Icarus. There’s a lot of consideration for that fact- of course there is. Their her child. But- they’re not close, Fable makes sure of that. They spend most of their time with him, and their his heir after all. Their disappearance would be the worst to explain. So she doesn’t take them with her.

She takes Rae, and over the course of a few years- stays in a sort of safe house like in cannon, learns the things she does there, goes to soul for help, all that stuff. But she ends up taking Rae to Enderian, he becomes crown prince. She stays with them until it compromises Rae’s safety. Fable finds her, she doesn’t give away that she’d stayed with Enderian and that stays secret for a long time. Fable finds her, messes with her memories and things (he’s messed with Icarus’s too at this point- probably erasing Rae entirely) end she goes into a coma. He locks her away, Icarus doesn’t even know she’s here- and ends up having no memories of her anyways. Only fable knows where she’s locked away. Some tower in the castle sleeping beauty style probably.

Rae grows up in the end kingdom, Icarus grows up in the overworld.

Rae meets Caspian in the end prison- advocating for his freedom and things. He gets him a place in the end kingdom, and they get together at a peaceful festival in the overworld. That is an annual festival- Rae meets aax and takes her there too. He and Cas talk- and probably end up asking Aax out there too- making a whole day out of it probably. It’s a tradition for them, after all.

Aax lives with Cas, and Rae stays with them on weekends? Mayhaps? Something like that. He’s allowed to visit them whenever.

I like to think maybe Cas helps Athena and Bruin run the bakery on occasion. Bed and breakfast. Idk. Rae is definelty still the taste tester on Aax safe foods. And also a waiter on opening day for multiple reasons- one, it’s funny- two, yknow. Royal press. Media(?) purposes. Yknow what I mean hopefully.

Also- end kingdom I think had parts in the overworld and end? Like- overworld has the stronghold portal as the center and then made a kingdom around that, and then there’s an end part of the kingdom. This was probably a result of a peace treaty Isla had led years before between the realms after the war. Because badass mother deserves it. But to explain that- yeah. I think the Nether doesn’t- but has a trading hub spreading through portals and things. Yknow. Just not kingdom- I think the overworld is still more cold to people from the nether so. No kingdom. But portals can be made anywhere instead of having just one like the end, so that makes sense.

Gilded kingdom is just the biggest kingdom in the overworld areas we know- as Fable is the god of creation. I just have cool ideas for kingdom designs. May build them in Minecraft actually who knows- (if I do I will in fact post the pictures)

The Aether kingdom was a thing for souls and stuff as it was in cannon, but fell the same way. Alerion and Will live peacefully in one of the overworld kingdoms living normal lives away from everything, as they deserve.

A lot of the fable characters probably lives in the overworld, and just travel between realms.

Athena’s house probably has an area like his lab, where half is in the overworld and half is in the nether. If not, maybe their bed and breakfast- or atleast she has some nether bakery locations maybe with nether specific treats! Cause I think they deserve it and I just think it’d be cool.

Will has a cartographers shop in his village- like a cartographer villager type thing.

Rae has his archives he runs in his kingdom, there are two- one in the overworld part and one in the nether.

Starbarks definelty exists, does Fenris cannonly in this AU run all of the businesses he runs in actual cannon? Probably not. Do they exist? Probably.

Ven works as a close advisor for Fable, and Ari is hired as a knight or general of a sort for fable. Maybe more like a spy. Cat scratch records exist probably.

The world sisters do exist, most likely- (logistically if this was like a alternate “fable raises Icarus AU” they probably wouldn’t but I can do what I want and I say they’re here cause I love them- /silly)

Addie- Addie idk- maybe they work on like a night shift for the archives? Or like as an intern.

Ulysses- idk where to put Ulysses. Oh you silly fish man you. I will incorporate all the telchin stuff, definetly, I think just think of the cannon lore for that one.

Also- Quixis is there somewhere. Probably not in the same way for plot- but gotta include them in every au somehow /silly

Yeah. Royal AU. I’m eepy so I shut up- but hope you like my rambling ig idk-

I didn’t realize y’all enjoyed this au that much- I appreciate all the excitement about it /gen tehe <3

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committingcrimes-2047 · 11 hours ago

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HNNNG GUESS WHOS BACK

(I wrote this way too fast because i needed to write this down before i writers block kicked back in so there are probably spelling mistakes, grammar issues (theres always grammar issues with my writing LMAO) goodluck!)

I'm imagining Reader, who is a traveler who goes overseas often. They go to Piltover and meet Vander and decide to join their cause, becoming a merchant to get extra money to bring in.

Reader is getting ready to set sail with their crew and Vander pulls thrm aside just before they leave and gives them a promise ring. Once they do set sail, Reader waves at Vander until hes out of sight.

While they were away, Vander, Silco, Connol and Felicia helped him plan an actual proposal. When Reader did finally return, they were expecting to be proposed to the second they got off of the ship but to their surprise, they were just welcomed back normally. After the next few weeks, Reader stays suspicious but in the end figures that he's going to wait until after they beat Piltover.

Once Reader is no longer suspicious, they set the plan in motion.

One day, Felicia invites Reader out and they walk around topside. Eventually, Reader is dragged into a shop and Felicia pretends to look around before "spotting" an outfit that Reader also likes. Felicia convinces them to buy it, and they do. They head back and Reader styles the outfit and while they were changing, Connol told her that everything was ready and they both sneak out.

While Reader and Felicia were out, Silco and Connol had been cooking. Reader faintly smells their favourite food as they walk out, all dressed up and see that the only thing waiting for them was a note saying that Felicia had to go.

Before Reader could change Silco shows up and asks them to help him gather some supplies or something. He insists that they don't need to change and they head out, grabbing bits and pieces from various shops before heading in a direction Reader doesn't recognise and before they can ask about it, Silco hands them a blind fold and asks them to put it on. Which they do, now incredibly suspicious (and slightly concerned).

Silco leads them along until they stop and he walks off, and Vander tells them to take off the blindfold, which they do. Immediately seeing that they're stabding ontop of an old building, a gorgeous view of Piltover and the sky, the sun setting, casting a beautiful glow over the city. Two chairs and a table, covered in their favourite food and drink and fairylights strung up all around. And Vander, dressed nicely and looking uncharacteristicly nervous.

They sit down, eat and talk and eventually the sun has set and they're witting in comfortable silence when Vander breaks it and asks them to stand up. Weeks of practising what to say go straight out the window and he stutters his way through a small speach before he gives up and pops the question, kneeling and holding up a small box.

Reader stares down at him in shock, completely silent- everything he just said processing in their hand and as Vander goes to stand up- akwardly apologising- he gets tackled down by Reader, who happily says yes.

...

NOW IMAGINE

Every year, at the same time, on the anniversary of his proposal. Reader puts on the same outfit, grabs their favourite alcohol sits in the same place they sat on that day. Mourning the life that could have been.

I hope you guys know, I looked into my drafts to posts this and i found this

I have no memory of writing this

#arcane x reader #vander x reader #I am tweaking out rn #I hope you guys enjoyed this #It took me so long to find a image of him that i liked #i lied #I like all of them but i wanted to find a specific one that made sense for the story #I couldn't find one #This is the best youre gonna get be grateful #I am sorry #I love my mutuals so much #If youre reading this i love you

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biblical-chronicles · 21 hours ago

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Don't be a stranger pt. 2

_________________________________________________________

You lot wanted it, so here it is. I probably would have done it anyway since it's been rattling around me little head, this one x

the reader comes back for seconds and gets her sweet little revenge for the mark that Liam left on her neck last time.

part one here for anyone who has just joined the party.

_________________________________________________________

You hadn’t necessarily planned on texting Liam after that first whirlwind of a day at their house. But as the days turned into a week, you found yourself unable to shake the memory of his smirk, the casual confidence in the way he teased you, and the heat of his kiss still tingling on your skin.

When you finally caved in and sent a text—just a simple “Hey, it’s me”—you told yourself it was just out of curiosity. Nowt more.

His reply came later that night, the screen lighting up your dark room.

“Took you long enough, love. Thought you’d bottled it, got me worried”

You rolled your eyes at the message but couldn’t fight the smile spreading across your face.

“Worried? Really?”

“Course. Not every day someone like you waltzes into me gaff, and leaves me wanting more.”

Your cheeks burned at his audacity.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming, you mean.”

The banter came naturally, his texts as playful and maddening as his in-person quips. What you didn’t expect was how much you’d start looking forward to them—or how much they revealed about Liam beyond the cocky front. Beneath it, there was a wit and depth that caught you a tad off guard. You found yourself talking about everything from music to the frustrations of everyday life, and before you knew it, you were texting late into the night more often than not.

It was dangerous territory, you knew that much. And yet, when Lennon invited you back over to finish the project draft the following week, you didn’t hesitate.

You arrived mid-afternoon, greeted once again by Liam instead of Lennon.

“Back again, eh?” he said, leaning against the doorframe with that same smirk that'd drive anyone up the wall.

“I’m here for Lennon,” you said pointedly, brushing past him into the house.

“Right,” Liam drawled, shutting the door behind you. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, love.”

Lennon was nowhere in sight, and Liam wasted no time making himself comfortable on the couch beside you.

“He’s upstairs,” Liam said, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “Probably lost in some boring uni nonsense. Reckon we’ve got a bit of time to kill.”

You gave him a wary look. “Don’t you have summat better to do?”

“Not really,” he said, grinning. “And even if I did, can’t think of anything better than windin’ you up.”

You tried to ignore him, pulling out your notes and pretending to organize them. But Liam was relentless.

“What’s this project of yours about, then?” he asked, leaning closer to peer over your shoulder.

“Media influence, told you already” you muttered, trying to focus on your pretend note organising.

“Fascinatin’,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Bet you’ve got loads of thrilling insights, don’t ya?”

You shot him a glare. “Do you ever take owt seriously?”

“Sure I do,” he said, feigning offense. “Just not boring uni projects - Proper dull, that. Can’t imagine Lennon’s much help with it, either.”

“He’s actually been great,” you said, your voice defensive.

Liam snorted. “Figures you’d say that. Always did like the serious types, didn’t ya?”

You frowned, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just an observation,” Liam said, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “Bet you’ve never let yourself have a bit of fun, have you? Always playin’ it safe, always thinkin’ too much.”

His words struck a nerve, and the frustration bubbled to the surface before you could stop it. “And what’s wrong with that? At least I’m not going around acting like a...a walking ego with no sense of boundaries”

Liam grinned, clearly happy about successfully winding you up. “And we all know that you love when I break these boundaries, love.”

The tension crackled between you, the air thick with unspoken challenges. Liam’s gaze dropped briefly to your lips, and your heart skipped a beat.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, standing abruptly. “I’m going to find Lennon.”

But as you turned to leave, Liam’s hand shot out, gently catching your wrist.

“Wait,” he said softly, the teasing edge gone from his voice.

You hesitated, glancing back at him. His expression was different now—more serious, more vulnerable.

“Don’t go,” he said, his grip light but firm. “Not yet.”

The sincerity in his tone threw you off balance, and before you could respond, he stood, stepping closer. The tension between you was almost unbearable, the silence filled with the sound of your racing heartbeat.

“Tell me you don’t feel it,” Liam said, his voice low and rough. “Go on, say it, and I’ll back off.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came out.

Liam’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “Thought so.”

He took another step closer, his hand still holding yours. “Let me kiss you again, love. Properly this time.”

Your resolve crumbled as he leaned in, his other hand brushing against your cheek. And when his lips met yours, it was as if the world stopped.

This kiss was slower, deeper, filled with all the unspoken tension that had been building between you. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

When you finally broke apart, your forehead resting against his, Liam let out a soft chuckle.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his voice still rough with emotion. “You’ve been wantin’ that as much as I have.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded, your cheeks flushing.

Lennon’s voice echoed faintly from upstairs, snapping you back to reality. You pulled away from Liam, your breath still uneven. His hands lingered at your waist for a moment before he reluctantly let go, his lips curving into a lazy grin.

“You’re trouble,” you whispered, taking a shaky step back.

Liam’s grin widened. “Takes one to know one, love.”

You rolled your eyes, but your flushed face betrayed the truth. Before you could overthink it, you mumbled something about needing to finish the project and hurried upstairs, leaving Liam behind with that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face.

The next few days were a blur. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart jumped, half-expecting another message from Liam. And they came often—teasing, flirtatious, and persistent.

You ignored the more daring texts but couldn’t resist replying to the others, your banter sharp but secretly thrilled. Despite your best efforts, Liam had a way of getting under your skin, his charm impossible to ignore.

A week later, you found yourself back at their house, this time to review your final project draft. You were quite sad as that would be the last time you could arrive at Liam's with a good excuse, after this session the project would surely be done. Lennon was as diligent as ever, focused on editing while you fought to keep your thoughts in check.

You almost made it through the session without incident—until Lennon got a call and excused himself, leaving you alone in the living room again.

The silence was short-lived.

“Fancy seein’ you here.”

You didn’t even need to look up to know it was Liam. His voice had that familiar mix of amusement and mischief, and when you glanced toward the doorway, he was leaning against the frame, arms crossed.

“Not now, Liam,” you said, trying to sound firm.

But Liam was undeterred. “What’s the matter, love? Thought you’d be happy to see me.”

You huffed, turning back to your notes. “I’m trying to work.”

“Boring,” he said, strolling into the room. “C’mon, you can’t be serious all the time.”

“Some of us have priorities,” you shot back.

Liam plopped down on the couch beside you, far too close for comfort. “And some of us know how to have a bit of fun. When are you gonna loosen up, eh?”

You didn’t answer, keeping your eyes firmly on your notes. But Liam wasn’t one to give up easily.

“Still mad about the other day?” he asked, his tone teasing.

You looked at him sharply. “I’m not mad.”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What do you want, Liam?”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You.”

The word hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Your heart skipped a beat, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Too bad,” you said, your voice steady despite the heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m not interested.” you said with zero conviction in your voice.

Liam chuckled, clearly sensing your lie. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, love.”

Before you could reply, he reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The gesture was so unexpected—so gentle—that it left you momentarily stunned.

“You’re beautiful when you’re flustered, you know that?” he said softly, his gaze locking with yours.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the tension between you was unbearable. Liam’s hand lingered near your face, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek.

“We should stop” you said weakly, though you made no move to stop him.

Liam’s smile softened. “We don’t have to.”

And just like before, you found yourself leaning in. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if both of you were savoring the moment. Liam’s hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a confidence that left you breathless.

When the sound of footsteps on the stairs broke the spell, you pulled away abruptly, your heart pounding. Liam grinned, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Better get back to Lennon,” he said, his voice low. “Don’t want him gettin’ suspicious.”

You nodded, still dazed, and watched Liam hurry out of the room, your mind still racing.

That night, as you lay in bed, your phone buzzed with a new message.

“Still thinkin’ about me, love? Don’t lie—I know you are.”

You groaned, tossing your phone aside, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to ignore. Liam Gallagher was trouble, no doubt about it.

And yet, against all logic, you couldn’t seem to stay away.

The days that followed were a constant tug-of-war with yourself. Liam's texts kept coming leaving you blushing more with each one.

At first, you resisted replying. But by the third day, you’d had enough of pretending you weren’t thinking about him almost the entire time. With your heart pounding, you finally texted back:

“Fine. Come over tomorrow night. Just you.”

His reply was immediate.

“Now we’re talkin’. What time, love?” “7. And don’t be late.” “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You stared at your phone after sending the message, half-excited, half-terrified. This was reckless, you knew that much. But the truth was, you didn’t care anymore.

The next evening, you found yourself pacing your living room, nerves buzzing as the clock ticked closer to seven. When the doorbell finally rang, you took a deep breath and opened it to find Liam leaning casually against the doorframe, a crooked grin on his face.

“Well, don’t you look nice,” he said, his eyes raking over you with a smirk that made your cheeks heat. “All done up for me, are you?”

You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped. “I didn’t do anything special.”

“Sure, love,” he said, stepping inside. “Just happened to be wearin’ that when I showed up, yeah? Don’t lie to me; I know effort when I see it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, shutting the door behind him.

He turned to face you, the teasing glint in his eye sharpening. “Oh, I don’t need to, love. You’re doin’ all the flattering for me. I mean, this,” he gestured to you with an exaggerated sweep of his hand, “is practically a declaration of love.”

You groaned, resisting the urge to toss a pillow at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you invited me over,” he said, his smirk growing. “Must mean you like me a little bit.”

“Don’t push it,” you said, trying to sound firm. But the smirk on his face told you he saw right through you.

Liam followed you to the couch, where you’d set out drinks to break the tension. He plopped down beside you, stretching out in that effortlessly confident way of his.

“So,” he said, picking up his glass. “What’s the plan, love? Bit of small talk before you ravish me, or are we skipping straight to the fun part?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Give over.”

“Oh I know you love it” he said, grinning as he leaned back against the cushions.

You laughed shaking your head. “How do you even fit that ego through the door?”

“Talent,” he said smugly, taking a sip of his drink.

The teasing went on for a while, the conversation flowing easily as it always did. But there was a new edge to it tonight, a tension that simmered just beneath the surface. Liam’s gaze lingered a little longer, his touches—an arm draped over the back of the couch, a hand brushing yours—more deliberate.

Finally, you set your glass down and turned to face him fully. “Alright, enough games,” you said, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “Why don’t we stop pretending we’re here to just talk?”

Liam’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with something that made your pulse quicken. “Thought you’d never ask, love.”

He leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you met him halfway, your lips crashing together in a kiss that was as electric as it was inevitable.

Liam’s hands were on you immediately, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap. His lips moved against yours with a confidence that made your head spin, his hands sliding up your back, tangling in your hair.

“You’ve been drivin’ me mad, y’know that?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with desire.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, your fingers tugging at his shirt.

He chuckled, his lips trailing down to your neck. “Can’t help myself around you, love. You’re irresistible.”

You let out a soft gasp as his lips found that sensitive spot just below your jaw, his teeth grazing your skin. “Liam—”

“Hmm?” he murmured, his lips still on your neck.

“Don’t you dare—”

But it was too late. You felt the familiar pressure of his lips against your skin, the telltale heat of a hickey forming.

“Liam!” you exclaimed, pulling back to glare at him.

He looked entirely too pleased with himself, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Couldn’t resist,” he said with a grin.

You narrowed your eyes at him while he leaned back a little with an unapologetic smirk.

You pushed him back slightly, your lips quirking into a sly smile. “Fine. But if you’re going to keep marking me up, it’s only fair I get to do the same.”

Liam raised an eyebrow, and his grin turned downright devilish as he leaned back against the couch. His hands stayed planted firmly on your waist, holding you there like he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon. “Oh, is that how it works now? You think you can keep up with me, love?”

“I don’t think—I know,” you said, your confidence unwavering even though his smirk made your stomach twist.

“Big words,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery as he tilted his head to expose his neck. “Go on, then. Show me what you’ve got. But don’t cry when you realize you’re not in my league.”

You scoffed, leaning closer. “I’m not going to cry.”

“No?” he teased, raising his eyebrows. “You sure about that? Last time I so much as nipped you, you were practically beggin’ me to stop. Or was it to keep going?” He cocked his head as if in mock thought. “Hard to remember—it’s all a blur of you moanin’ my name.”

“Shut up, Liam,” you snapped, your cheeks burning despite yourself.

“Shutting up,” he said, the grin never leaving his face. “But I’ve got to say, the view from here is pretty spectacular.” His eyes dragged over you pointedly. “You got all dolled up just to get your revenge, didn’t you? Go on, admit it. Could’ve come out in your pajamas, but no—you went full effort.”

You huffed and tried to ignore him, leaning in closer to press your lips to his neck, but he wasn’t finished.

“I mean, it’s flattering, really,” he said, his voice dropping into that low, teasing tone that made your skin prickle. “All this just for me? Sweetheart, if you wanted to impress me, you could’ve just said so.”

“Oh my God, Liam,” you said, your voice muffled against his skin as you tried to block him out.

But he wasn’t letting you off that easily. “What?” he said, his voice lilting with mock innocence. “You’re makin’ me feel special, love. You’re desperate to make your mark, aren’t you?”

“Desperate?” you echoed, pulling back just enough to glare at him.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning forward so his breath brushed your ear. “You’ve been thinkin’ about this, haven’t you? Wondering how it’d feel to take control for once. Bet it’s been driving you mad, hasn’t it?”

“You’re unreal” you muttered, trying to focus on your task.

“And you’re stalling,” he said, grinning as he leaned back again. “Come on, then. Show me what you’ve got. Or is all that fire just for show?”

Your pride refused to let him win. “Fine. But don’t complain when you’re the one left squirming.”

“Oh, I’m quaking in my boots,” he quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You ignored him and pressed your lips to the curve of his neck. You started with a gentle kiss, your lips brushing over his skin like a whisper. His body tensed beneath you, though he tried to play it off.

“Is that it?” he asked, though his voice was already a little uneven. “Didn’t realize revenge was meant to tickle.”

You smirked against his neck, letting your teeth graze the sensitive spot just below his jawline. His breath hitched, and the grip on your waist tightened reflexively.

“Better?” you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin as you spoke.

“Gettin’ there,” he said, though his voice was noticeably rougher.

You sucked gently at first, testing the waters, then increased the pressure, making sure to take your time. His breathing grew heavier, and his hands flexed on your hips like he was trying to stay still.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. “Alright, love, point made.”

But you weren’t done. You moved slightly, finding a new spot just above his collarbone, and sucked harder, your teeth grazing his skin enough to make him let out a low, guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” you teased, emboldened by his reaction.

“Don’t get cocky,” he rasped, though his hands slid up your back, pressing you closer. “You’re not—oh, fuckin' hell—” His words cut off as you sucked again, the mark blooming dark against his pale skin.

Liam chuckled, his hands tightening on your waist. “Not bad,” he said, his voice rough. “But you’re gonna have to do better than that if you wanna keep up with me.”

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

You pulled back, a smirk tugging at your lips as you watched him, utterly satisfied with the two dark marks you’d left on his skin. But your mischievous side flared, and you leaned in again, catching his gaze.

“You know,” you said softly, your voice dripping with intent, “I think I’ve found the perfect spot this time.”

Liam raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but also a little wary. “Oh, is that right? You reckon you’ve got me figured out now?”

“Maybe,” you teased, the corners of your mouth curling as you moved in closer. “Or maybe I’ve just been saving the best for last, all for you love.”

His body stiffened slightly, but he didn’t pull away. His hands slid up to your back, fingers grazing the edges of your shirt, and he met your eyes with an almost challenging glint. “You’re gonna keep me here, then? Got no other plans, huh?”

You didn’t answer, too focused on the task at hand. Instead, you let your lips hover near his skin, just inches away, and he exhaled sharply, like he knew exactly what was coming.

You lowered your mouth to the side of his neck, your lips brushing over the sensitive skin as you tested for that perfect spot. He twitched, and you smirked, immediately knowing you’d found it. His breath hitched slightly, and before he could say anything, you pressed your lips firmly against the warm skin, sucking gently at first.

He froze, his hands gripping your waist, as you felt his pulse quicken under your lips. You couldn’t help but smile into the skin, feeling that rush of power as he tensed, knowing you had him just where you wanted him.

Liam’s breath hitched. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. But you didn’t stop—this time you sucked harder, your lips pressing down with a firm, determined pressure. You felt the soft pulse of his skin beneath you, and the moment your teeth grazed his neck, Liam let out a sharp gasp, his hands digging into your hair, tugging you even closer.

“Oh God,” he groaned, his voice thick with a mix of shock and desire. “You really know what you’re doin’, don’t you?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, pressing deeper, your tongue flicking out against the sensitive area. His body was shaking slightly beneath your touch, but he didn’t dare move away. His hands gripped your hair harder, guiding you with desperate urgency as his breathing became uneven.

You could feel the strain in his neck as he stretched it out, giving you better access. “Jesus,” he muttered, his voice tight with tension. “I swear to God, love...”

You took that as your cue to push even further. With one final, decisive suck, you pulled away to admire your work. The mark you’d left was darker, deeper, and undoubtedly the best one yet.

Liam let out a groan of both frustration and pleasure, and you could see how the edge of his control was slipping. He was breathing heavily, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he tried to regain his composure. His lips parted as though to speak, but nothing came out. His hands were still in your hair, keeping you impossibly close, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’re gonna be walking around with this for days, aren’t you?” you teased, the power shift intoxicating. “You’re not gonna be able to hide it.”

Liam let out a low, throaty laugh, his voice rough with need. “I don’t bloody care, love. You could cover me in them, for all I care. Doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh, I know it doesn’t,” you said, eyes glinting with mischief. “You like it, don’t you? Being marked like this.”

“Yeah, well,” Liam muttered, still catching his breath, “You’ve got me all turned on now, couldn’t care less who sees it.” He leaned in close again, his lips brushing against your ear, the warmth of his breath making your heart race. “I’m not the one hiding, am I?”

The night blurred after that, a mix of kisses, laughter, and whispered challenges. By the time you finally collapsed against him, both of you were marked with more than a few hickeys.

Your face was hot, your breath still coming in uneven pants as you looked at Liam, whose own face was similarly flushed. He was studying you now, his eyes dark but soft, filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than usual, his fingers tracing lightly across the small hickeys you’d left on his neck.

You nodded, still catching your breath, the intensity of the moment slowly sinking in. "Yeah... I'm good."

Liam chuckled softly, shaking his head, clearly still in disbelief at the way the night had unfolded. "You're bloody brilliant, you know that, love?"

You smiled, teasing as always. "Glad you think so, Gallagher, same goes out to you"

But despite the playful banter, there was something deeper there now, an unspoken connection that neither of you could deny. The night had shifted, but it hadn’t ended. And as you stayed close, tangled in his arms, you both knew that things had changed between you—and there was no going back.

Still, the reality started to set in, and you hesitated for a moment, your thoughts clouded with uncertainty. You bit your lip, gathering the courage to speak up.

"Hey, Liam," you started, your voice quieter now, the playful edge gone, replaced with a vulnerable honesty. "I don’t want this to just be a one-night thing, you know? I... I want more than that."

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into one of those familiar teasing grins. "Oh, so now you want more? Where was this earlier, love? I coulda been yours way back when, but you had to play it cool, didn’t ya?"

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile at his typical Liam bravado. But you weren’t backing down. "I didn’t know what I wanted until now," you admitted, your voice quieter, more sincere. "But I know I don’t want this to end like some fling."

Liam's grin softened a little as he studied you, that playful edge still there but with a new tenderness. He leaned in, brushing his lips lightly across yours, almost as if he were testing the waters.

“Should’ve said summat before, then, if you wanted to be me girl,” he teased, though there was something genuine behind the words. "But I'll allow it, love."

Your heart fluttered at the way he said it, the mix of cocky and sweet that only Liam Gallagher could pull off. And before you could respond, he pulled you in again, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was somehow both lazy and full of fire, the promise of something deeper between you both.

You melted into him, your body fitting against his like it always had been meant to. The kiss deepened, the air around you thick with everything that had been unsaid before, everything you were now ready to face. As his hands pulled you closer, you could feel that you were both stepping into something new—something that could be real. And you weren’t about to let it slip away.

He grinned, pulling you closer. “Think we’re gonna have a lot of fun, you and me.”

And for once, you didn’t argue.

_______________________________________________________

Hope you lot liked it. Kept it proper long ’cause I know the pain when a fic cuts off too soon. Also, let’s be real—I’m just hopelessly head over heels for that man

waiting for your feedback me celestial bastards xx

#liam gallagher x reader #liam gallagher xf!reader #liam gallagher x f!reader #liam gallagher x you #liam gallagher one shots #oasis x reader #oasis one shots #liam gallagher fanfiction #oasis fanfiction #britpop #britpop x reader

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hexxedghost · 1 day ago

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Took a little break from drafting the next chapter of Haunt to write a little threadfic for bsky. Price got injured and is the worst at actually resting to heal. Enter Nik.

The 141 had become somewhat infamous amongst the medical staff on base. Enough of a reputation that whenever they brought in, after the frantic panic and life-saving care, there was always a heavy put upon sigh from the nurses, knowing what would come afterwards.

They weren’t good at healing. Their bodies, yes, flesh and sinew knitting itself back together, bruises mottling and fading. But staying in bed, and resting.

Well, it just didn’t suit them.

Gaz at least, stayed within the medical wing, but pushed to get away with as much as he could, not above charming and lying to do so.

Soap somehow managed to injure himself during recovery on several occasions, normally by pushing himself too much too quickly.

Ghost just left. They’d find him tucked away somewhere else on base, using his reputation and stature to warn off anyone who’d suggest he go back to bed.

But it was a well known fact on base, that the worst of them was Price. A horrible amalgamation of all three of his team, he would charm, lie, push himself and escape even to do something as boring as paperwork.

Ghost had proposed just tying him to the bed, but after the third escape, medical just sort of shrugged and gave up. Price was a force to be reckoned with, and nobody was willing to put up with the headache.

Well, nearly nobody.

“Don’t fucking start, I don’t wanna hear it Nik.” Price warns, pointing at him. Nik holds up his hands, chuckling, as he enters the room.

“It was surprise. I have not seen you without the beard in a while.” he gestures to Price’s cleanly shaved face, currently giving him a very unimpressed look. He huffs, staring at the window.

“I’ve already had them lot go on about it. Soap and Gaz did a whole bit with asking everyone where their Captain had gone.” he glares at Nik’s laugh, but there’s no real heat to it. Underneath it all is a fond exasperation he knows holds true for his squad.

“Ghost?” Nik questions.

“Asked me where to find the Captain so he could sign some paperwork.” Price mutters bitterly, the betrayal clear in his voice. Nik snorts, and Price goes to cross his arms, stubbornly, but growls when he’s stopped by the cast on his arm.

The last mission, Price had gotten caught between an armoured vehicle and a low retaining wall. His arm had been crushed between his body and the barrier, but at least it had stopped short of crushing his head. There’d been a scramble, with hostiles swarming their location, managing to extract the Captain. It wasn’t until they were in the helicopter that they’d noticed the wound on Price’s neck. It was superficial, at least, and hadn’t caught anything vital, but it would most likely need stitches, no matter how much Price insisted he’d ‘kept most of his blood on the inside’ over the roar of the engine.

He was partially right, at least. Most of his blood had been on the inside. And the bone had been set easy enough. Though he liked miserable with the cast, given it was his dominant hand.

John Price hated relying on other people, hated not being able to do things himself. So Nikolai can’t imagine he was pleasant to deal with if they’d had to shave off the beard.

“Kate’s sent you to babysit me, then?” Price asks as Nik settles into the seat by the bed.

“I sent myself,” Nik corrects him, but he can’t hold back the grin as he continues, “though she was very grateful. She said the shovel would be murder on her hands, so it would be a shallow grave.” Nik jokes, relishing in the twitch of a smile he sees briefly on Price’s face.

Laswell wouldn’t. But she would definitely threaten to. Price was insufferable when he was injured, and Laswell had long carried the torch for trying to corral him into actually taking care of himself for once.

She’d complained about it once over drinks, Price and the rest of the 141 away on a mission. Nikolai had offered to help offhandedly and after giving him a searching look that seemed to pierce him to the core, she’d picked up her drink, mumbled something to herself and told him to have at it. And to prepare for the worst.

Preparation was key, he felt, when it came to attempting to wrangle the stubborn force that was John Price. He had a plan, of course. He’d given it a decent amount of thought. The major things that tended to drive Price were work, and others that need taking care of. Nik thought the best path was to…remove them from the equation. Mostly by removing Price from the area.

Laswell had been surprisingly helpful in that regard, insisting the old man needed a break, and it would be a good idea to let him relax.

Price, it seemed, disagreed.

“Nik.”

“Captain.”

Price turns to him, eyes sharp with suspicion. “What is this?”

Nik hum’s thoughtfully, shifting his weight to one foot and gesturing casual in front of them.

“Hm, if I had to guess. I would say a cabin.” he grins at the filthy look Price gives him, striding forward over the dirt track and fishing out a set of keys.

“Kate knows I’m here.” Price says, it’s not a question.

“She insisted.” Nik says, glancing over his shoulder and shooting him a quick smile, “She’s also handled your work, Ghost is taking care of the paperwork, the other two are handling training and duties on base.”

Price seems to deflate. “I’m supposed to be stuck out here and rest, then?”

Nik gets the door open, the hinges well oiled so it swings in smoothly. “She said at least a week.” he heads back to the car to grab the bags, “And I believe the suggestion was to ‘actually relax for once, you stupid man’ or something to that effect.”

There’s a crunch of dirt underfoot, Price moving in to survey the cabin. Or his new ‘prison’ as he shouts from inside, making Nik chuckle as he shuts the boot.

It’s near evening now. Nik had fired up the wood stove, explaining the cabin was off the grid. It would normally be an irritation for people, but Price seems to settle with it. Knowing that he isn’t being coddled.

Though he had glared at the food. “What the ‘ell is this?”

“Kasha. Good, filling.” Nik says, placing the bowl in front of him. Price takes a bit and wrinkles his nose a bit.

“It’s like salty porridge.” he says, poking at it curiously.

“I can make something else” Nik offers,

“No, no” Price says in a rush, “I’m just...complaining for the sake of it.” he raises a spoonful into his mouth with a suffering sigh, resting a chin on his hand after chewing, “Miss steak though.”

“When you’re better, we’ll go hunting for some. There is deer in the area.” Nik answers smoothly.

“This your place, then?” Price asks, looking around the room curiously.

“One of them,” he answers cryptically, chuckling when Price grumbles.

The cabin itself is fairly plain, but functional. Nik mostly uses it for hunting, but it’s a good holdout if he needs to hide out for a while. There’s a fold out bed, books, and hunting gear. Along with a desk in the corner.

“I need your help with something tomorrow.” he says casually, managing to keep his face neutral at how fast Price’s head snaps up. “But, it was a long drive. We sleep first.”

It’s probably a little cruel, to prolong it. But in his experience, once Price knows of a task, it's hard to talk him down from undertaking it in that instant. In most circumstances, it’s admirable, Price is someone that can be relied upon like that. Unless the task is resting, it seems.

They settle down for the night not too long afterwards, the colder weather causing the dwindling daylight to be a distant memory of hours before.

“What you need my help with, then?” Price pesters him in the early hours, while Nik is washing the dishes from breakfast. There’s an odd motion to his arm that Nik recognises it as a habit of grabbing the straps of his tacvest when they’re in the middle of a debrief. Price seems to notice it at the same time and gives a hard stare to the cast.

Nik puts the rag down and gestures to the desk. There are maps spread over the well-worn wood, notes of red ink scrawled in margins. Price nods to himself, eyes scanning and assessing in rapid fashion.

“Just intel or a goal in mind?” he asks, giving a curse when he goes to cross his arms again. Nik takes pity, figuring a task to do is better than sympathy.

“Familiarity more than anything. Good to know what terrain you can use against your enemies.” Nik says, voice strained as he digs under the desk to find what he’s looking for. He holds out a camera drone for Price to inspect. “I’ve mapped some of the area, but it would be easier with two.”

Price takes it in his left hand, squinting at it curiously. “Drones?”

“You know how to handle them, to some extent? I know Sergeant Garrick is quite good with them.”

“I meant more that it’s battery powered. This place is offgrid right?”

“Ah. There is a generator for it.” he points outside to where it’s tucked against the house.

“You took the time to make sure you’ve powered your drones, but I can’t have a hot shower?” Price raises his eyebrows, but there’s a glint of humour in his eyes.

“Priorities, Captain.” Nikolai says simply, the chuckle behind him letting him know he’d hit the mark. “And the radios.” he adds, gesturing to the comms units on the desk.

“Whats the plan then?”

“You survey, I check, you make notes.” he taps the maps with a callused finger. Price works his jaw, but Nik knows he’s got him. There is only one thing worse for John Price than injury, blood or and gunfire. And it’s boredom.

“Fine.”

It was nearing the autumn months, the air brisk and fogging in front of him as he moves through the trees. There’s a barely audible whir of the drone nearby, as he sees it flit ahead.

“Zippy little bastards, aren’t they?” Price’s voice crackles over the comms, sounding pleased with himself. Nik laughs to himself, moving over a gnarled tree root as a leisurely stroll. There was a certain boyish charm to the way Price’s voice lit up that even the static of the radio couldn’t quite hide.

They’d quickly realised that it was easier for Price to just hot mic, since constantly having to activate a switch required a working hand he didn’t currently possess.

Nik had been making notes as he’d travelled along the route Price was scouting for him. Most of it he expected, but it was still useful information. He hadn’t considered the river, though Price had swooped low over the rushing water and mumbled to himself about fishing. It was incredibly endearing, Nik just sitting back and letting the words wash over him.

Although, it had been a few hours since he’d set out, and the sun was sinking lower in the sky. He should consider heading back soon.

Price’s voice cuts in suddenly. “Nik…”

“Hm?”

“Why are you taking care of me?” It’s not the question Nik was expecting, but it’s an easy enough one to answer.

“Someone has to.” he gets to his feet, stretching stiff limbs as he listens to the chuckle over the radio.

“Drew the short straw eh?” Price jokes. Nikolai straightens up.

“No.” he says firmly. “Someone should take care of you, and I would rather it be me. I know I will do it right.”

There’s a pause, the sound of evening birds weaving through the quickly cooling air. “Who takes care of you then?” Price asks.

“Whoever is willing to shoulder that burden, I suppose.” Nik replies easily, picking up the drone and tucking it safely into his pack.

Price hums quietly, but doesn’t say anymore on Nik’s trek back. Even at dinner that night he is uncharacteristically quiet, not even a comment about the food.

“Wouldn’t be’ y’know?” he says suddenly after they’ve finished lunch. Nikolai scratches at his beard, trying to find the thread of the conversation he’d lost.

“I don’t think I do?” he says curiously, resting his elbows on the table.

“A burden.” Price says simply. For once, Nik doesn’t know how to respond. He didn’t realise Price had been thinking about that throwaway common for so long.

“I…am not an easy man to deal with.” is what he settles on. He had taken precautions when thinking of how to deal with Price in his recovery, but he hadn’t planned for this conversation. It’s odd to find himself completely out of his depth.

“How’d you figure that then?” the captain insists, that keen glint in his eye reminding Nik that Price is far more observant than most give him credit for. It’s something he respects, so as much as it would be easy to dismiss he tries to give the answer some genuine thought.

“I am difficult to know.” he ticks off on his fingers

“Reckon I know you pretty well.” Price interjects, smiling when Nik looks over to him and gestures to put the finger down.

“You do, yes.” he raises another finger, “I am secretive.”

“Cause you have to be.” Price counters.

Nik shakes his head, but finds himself smiling. He can see the game now.

“Sometimes, security is a necessity, yes. I put people at ease, but I think they know it is because I am a danger to them. Like a lion placating the sheep.”

“Lions work together, though.” Price points out, scratching at the edge of his cast and frowning when Nik bats his hand away.

“True, but it's often the females that do all the work”

Laswell’s name remains unspoken, but as they share a look, it may as well have been said. There’s a glint in Price’s eye that looks like mirth and Nik grins into his drink.

“Should put those down though.” Price says, nodding to the raised fingers.

“I am still a dangerous person.”

“Surrounded by other dangerous people. Where you’re meant to be.” he sits back, and even though the cast hampers it, there’s that squaring of the shoulders Nik associates with Price gearing up for a final blow.

“Was supposed to be about you not being a burden. Haven’t heard a good point yet.” he says seriously.

“To some I would be.” Nik offers, clearing away the table.

Price shrugs, “Maybe. To me you're not though. Reckon my opinion might count for something.:

“You’ve given this a lot of thought.” Nik says, turning to him, resting a palm flat on the counter.

“Haven’t had much else on.” Price lifts the cast for emphasis. Nik rolls his eyes, hip checking him in the shoulder as he goes past and chuckling at the feigned outrage following him from the kitchen.

The words seem to fill the space between them for the rest of the day, though they don’t speak much. Just quietly existing in a comfortable silence together, filling in details on the maps, adding notes of good spots for the future plans of a hunting trip that's taken form over the last few days.

It does feel like something has shifted, slightly. But, Nikolai is a patient man when it comes to these things. He’s willing to wait, to match Price’s pace, if he chooses to walk the same trail. Things that like were worth the wait.

Later, in the quiet dark of the night, as Price clears his throat. “Why’d you take me out here?”

“To recover, I thought that part was obvious from the start.’ Nik says, the grasp of sleep slipping away as he sits up on an elbow.

“Not what I’m really asking.” Price says, sitting up entirely and cursing at the cast as it gets stuck in the blanket.

“Here specifically? Or why me?” Nik says, politely ignoring Price’s struggles.

“Either. Both.” he grunts, finally freeing himself.

“I like the idea of you being taken care of.” he says, “ I already said this.” he adds pointedly afterwards.

The dark outline of Price shifts, the constant motion a familiar sight even in the dark. “Are only you allowed to do that then?”

“I would hope you would start taking care of yourself.” Nik points out dully.

“Rather take care of you.” is the quick reply.

Ah, he’d forgotten. Nikolai was a man willing to wait for things, no matter how long they take. But, Jonathan Price is not a patient man. If he sees a task to be done, it will be, stubbornly and immediately.

“You would be the first.” he says gently into the darkness.

“Rather be the last,” Price says, and it sounds like a promise.

A few weeks later, the cast comes off.

And a few years after that, after listing off all the reasons why on their fingers, they match them together with bands of gold.

#hexx threads #nikprice #if you squint its defs more preslash than relationship tho

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spinningwebsandtales · 2 days ago

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Imagine Sanji Flirting With You While He Waits On You

OPLA Sanji X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Flirting

Word Count: 800

(A/N:) It feels so good to be writing again! It has been crazy around here and it's just going to get worse with the holidays coming up! I hope to write more soon as my drafts are so full of ideas so keep an eye out for more stories to come, cause just because I haven't been writing much doesn't mean that I've quit! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The Baratie was the talk across the span of the East Blue and you had been dreaming of the food for weeks. With a reservation made in advanced you counted down the days until the moment finally arrived. The doors opening before you, beckoning you inside with an extravaganza of wonderful and delicious smells. Lead to a table closest to the kitchen, the host left you with a polite smile and promising your waiter would be with you shortly. Despite dining alone, you dressed nicely and put a light layer of makeup on. You enjoyed looking nice and you didn't let your relationship status keep you from wearing things you enjoy or eating at restaurants like the Baratie. Despite the host's promise it was taking a little bit for your waiter to make his way to your table. The place was busy and you could wait patiently, though you did wish they would at least bring you some water to sip on.

Taking in the extravagant decorations that surrounded you, you didn't pay much attention to the commotion going on in the kitchen until a loud clatter caused you to jump. Out from the swinging double doors a young blond haired man stomped out with a large mustached man following right behind. Feeling a little guilty you couldn't help but watch the scene play out. Both men continued to shout at one another before the younger one tugged off his apron and tossed it at the older chef. His hands in his pockets he ignored the enraged shouts coming from the head chef. The other patrons quickly turned away so you took that as your cue to do the same. You watched the blond talk with the waiter before he nodded and headed in your direction. You gulped, suddenly dreading being there as you didn't want to make him mad. You could tell he was still seething but as he got closer to your table his shoulders relaxed and he grinned brightly at you.

"Welcome to the Baratie madam. Pardon the rough housing, but we hope it doesn't frighten you away. Can I start you off with something to drink?"

You couldn't help but gap in awe. How he could go from enraged to a perfect gentleman astounded you. He waited patiently before you were finally able to speak.

"A-a glass of water please," you answered a bit flustered.

"Absolutely. Any preferences?"

"No just water please."

"As you wish," he winked. "My name is Sanji by the way and I look forward to serving you for as long as you need me to."

You couldn't help but smile as he walked away, leaving you feeling giddy and excited to see what else he could flatter you with tonight.

Moments later he arrived with your water and set it before you with a flourish that had you smiling.

"Now could I start our lovely guest off with something delicious like our lobster bisque? Or would the madam prefer something sweet to go along with her personality?"

"Let me ask you this," you smirked. "Is the bisque as smooth as my waiter?"

Sanji chuckled, "Not quite. You may be the smoothest one here darling."

Not sure how you could top that you just cleared your throat and threaded your fingers. Giving Sanji a small smile, "The lobster bisque sounds wonderful."

"As you wish," Sanji winked again and took your order to the window.

Your cheeks were warm and your heart was light as you hummed thoughtfully to yourself. Not long after Sanji returned setting a bowl of perfectly made soup in front of you before sitting another plate with a large slice of chocolate cake and he topped off your water glass.

"But I didn't," you begun to protest.

Sanji shushed you immediately, "On the house love. And maybe after the lady takes her time enjoying her food, she could join me for drinks afterward?"

You seemed to think about if for a moment, enjoying watching him squirm just a little bit. "Since you brought me free cake, I think I could manage a drink or two with my handsome waiter."

Sanji bowed gracefully, "Take your time to enjoy your food and I look forward to later."

"Me too," you replied to his back as he walked away."

You came to try the amazing food at the Baratie and wound up with a date with one of handsome waiters. You couldn't help but feel like you had won the day. Savoring your meal you counted down the seconds until you could be whisked away with Sanji and you hoped that it wouldn't be the only time you got to spend with him. Baratie may have found their most loyal customer in you.

#Sanji Vinsmoke X Reader #Sanji Vinsmoke / Reader #Sanji X Reader #Sanji / Reader #One Piece #One Piece Live Action #Sanji Imagine #One Piece Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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cyb3rpunked · 3 days ago

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“this world..”

kim hongjoong

𐙚 trigger warnings :: nsfw content (sex), cursing, pet names (ex :: princess)

𐙚 background info :: hooking up with your ceo after he caught you flirting with his secretary.. 🤭

it was just a simple, “how are you, wanna go out later?” but hongjoong still managed to get jealous somehow even though he knew that you didn’t like his secretary. mingi, your secretary always had a soft spot for you but more in like a brotherly love type of way. you felt the same way towards him and saw him as a sibling figure.

then why is hongjoong on his knees in front of your desk, begging for you to date him? pouting and everything, he whined and looked up at you expectantly.

“princess, c’mon.. just give me one chance.. i’ll show you that i’m better than that show-off..” hongjoong pleaded, gently placing his large hands on your bare thighs.

damn, he seems really desperate.. you thought to yourself as he kept talking about how he was better than mingi. you shift in your chair, but hongjoong moves closer to you, spreading your legs open a bit more.

“you can’t say no to your ceo, damnit..” hongjoong sounded like a five year old right now, throwing a tantrum to their helpess mom.

“hongjoong, i’m very flattered, but i just don’t think it would work out since i literally work for you-..” you explained. hoping it would make him change his mind.

“y/n, baby, you are my world and you mean everything to me, don’t you get it?” he asked softly, pressing his lips on your thigh. you couldn’t help but grip your skirt just a tad bit harder.

“are you sure about this? do you really love me?” you questioned, doubting his admiration for you. hongjoong pushed some of his hair off his face to get a better look at your pretty face.

“yes, i’m sure..” hongjoong reassured, going back to kissing your skinny thighs lovingly. you smile, stroking his hair in which he leaned his head on your hand.

after talking hongjoong drove you to his place. on the way there was a lot of traffic, and he began getting a little.. impatient to have you in bed.

“fuck-, i need you so bad right now..” he growled as he hit the brakes gently. you noticed his large cock already getting excited just from taking you home.

“are you hard already..?” you asked innocently as you placed your hand on the tent in his pants, making him gasp and grip the steering wheel tighter.

“you just wanna get fucked up, don’t you?” hongjoong groaned out as you palmed him gently and slowly. he then suddenly got a plan to save him from the suffering.

“spread open your legs, baby. now.” he demanded, unable to hold back any longer. you hesitated, but opened your legs a litle. one hand on the wheel, he took his free hand and slid into into your skirt and in your lacy underwear.

“joong-..!” you moan out, surprised.

this was an unfinished draft idek if i’ll make a part two..

#ateez #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez hongjoong

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just-here-with-my-thoughts · 2 days ago

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I loved this! I've been waiting for so long to read your take on the Hunter hurt/comfort from Summer of Bad Batch and now I'm finally getting round to all the fics saved in my drafts I really enjoyed it :D

Your descriptions of Hunter's stubborn refusal to acknowledge how bad his symptoms were were brilliant, from the bit where he really did try and stop to administer his medkit to being disrupted and then just trying to tough it out and make it through because he didn't want to let the squad down... and the comfort his brothers bring at the end, reassuring him that he was an idiot and should have commed them, was great.

And the pacing and tension was so good! That's what really stood out to me actually. I felt anxious for Hunter's wellbeing the whole time, but it wasn't just a sick-fic with his brothers taking care of him, there was combat going on, he didn't have time to stop - I loved it!

Field Experience

Written for @summer-of-bad-batch 's prompt "You're a bad liar." The Bad Batch is fresh out on one of their first missions when Hunter gets an unexpected injury, as well as a lesson in leadership. ~2000 words, with Hunter whump and some brotherly hurt/comfort. @indigofyrebird I believe you were looking for Hunter hurt/comfort? :-D

---

Things weren’t going well, exactly.

Hunter cursed under his breath as a grenade went off a few dozen meters away. The energy of the blast made his head pound and his eyes sting; his ears rang. He shook it off. His squad needed him, and he needed to get to a better vantage point, figure out where they’d gone wrong. This was only their third mission. This had to go right. He needed it to go right. He’d stepped up to lead, and he wouldn’t let them down.

He pinged his comms, hoping the thick jungle vegetation wouldn’t interfere. He’d taken this path for the stealth it afforded, but it was slow going, even with his tracking abilities. “Havoc Four, I need eyes on the valley.”

“Copy that,” said Crosshair. “We’ve got eighty clankers bearing down on us in a standard formation, but I can’t get --”

The comms crackled, spitting out static. Hunter swore again. He tried the others, pinging Tech and Wrecker, hoping they’d made it to the positions he’d dictated with Plan Twelve, but the vegetation was so thick he couldn’t pinpoint them. He needed to get out of this dense tangle of massive ferns and palms and vines and circle back around. He took a moment, breathing deep and closing his eyes, then dropped to the ground and rested his thinly-gloved hand on the soil. It hummed with the vibration of the clankers marching half a valley away, helping to readjust his mental positioning system. If the clankers were here, and Crosshair’s position was there, he needed to --

“Ouch!” he hissed. He opened his eyes, jerking his hand back, only to see a slender orange-and-black-tailed creature slithering away into the underbrush. “Karking --” He’d been so focused on the battleground up ahead he’d ignored the faint shiver in the topsoil that would have warned him of the creature. He rubbed his hand, trying to ignore the way the bite wound pulsed and throbbed. He’d deal with it once they cleaned up here.

He broke out of the dense jungle heading north by northwest, where the land opened up into scattered stands of trees and rolling, rocky hills heading down into the valley. He approached stealthily, keeping cover behind stands of thick green and violet trees and low hillocks roiling with mosses in a dozen different colors. His hand felt tense and tight in his glove, straining against the fabric, throbbing in time with the beat of his heart. Not a big deal. I’ll grab my medikit once I meet up with Tech and Wrecker.

He licked his lips. He tasted buzzing.

He dropped to a sudden crouch, disquieted. The buzzing sensation wasn’t external, the way that electricity in the air could make his tongue feel like it sparked. This was something else. His stomach clenched with a sinking feeling.

Damn creature must have been venomous.

He pulled his backpack off quickly, intending to go for his medikit, but the sound of blaster fire half a klick away made him sling the backpack back on. His comm crackled.

“Could really use you right about now, Sarge --” Wrecker’s voice came, tinny and half the pitch it normally was. Wrecker only called him Sarge when things were looking serious.

“Change of plans, lads. Plan Eighteen,” Hunter called, hoping the transmission went through. Faint crackles of assent came from Tech, Wrecker and Crosshair, and Hunter pulled out his blasters, charging through a gap in the hillocks and down the slope into the mouth of the valley. As he’d guessed, the clankers were now in sight. He shook off the sensation of his arm falling asleep, and dove into the fray.

---

This was it, the last stand of the clankers, and he knew he and the boys had them. It might have been dicey for a bit there, but after coordinating with Tech and Wrecker for deployment of some truly spectacular field charges, set off by Crosshair at the rear vanguard, the clankers were on the run.

There was a rustle behind him. Before the droids could raise their weapons, Hunter whirled to face them, raising his left pistol and firing off four quick shots. The two droids collapsed into the loam, still smoking. Got ‘em -- but it would have been easier if he could have held his right pistol, too. His head swam, and he kept flexing his hand, trying to move fingers that felt fat and fuzzy. He took cover behind a large boulder, catching sight of Tech and Wrecker further down the battlefield. One last sweep and they’d be done; he’d be able to check out his hand, his brothers none the wiser.

Except --

“Havoc One,” Crosshair drawled over his comms.

“Little busy right now.”

“You’re not moving right. Are you injured?”

He scowled. Curse Crosshair and his enhanced vision. His brother was probably two klicks away on the far ridge, but that had never stopped his vision before, especially with the aid of his scope.

“It’s nothing,” he said defensively. “You’re imagining it.” He shook out his hand, hissing at the new burning sensation prickling up his arm. It rolled up his muscles in seething waves, and his gauntlet felt like it was cutting into his arm. He loosened its attachments, hissing, bracing himself against the boulder. He shivered with a sudden chill, despite the warm temperature and the sweat slicking his hair down inside his helmet. Tough it out, you’ll be fine --

“You’re a bad liar. I’m changing to Plan Fifteen, and then I’m getting down there.” There was something he didn’t recognize in Crosshair’s voice. Was it fear?

Hunter shook his head. Plan Fifteen was a good bet, sure, a great use of Crosshair’s sniping skills, but --

Black dots showered the edges of his vision, closing in. He staggered, sliding down against the boulder to crumple on the ground, the black dots swarming. He was so cold.

“Sergeant down!” Crosshair shouted over the comms. It was the last thing Hunter heard before everything went dark.

---

He came back to himself slowly, fighting back a wave of nausea. Where was he? He smelled laser burns and ozone, the sharp scent of junked clankers, the heady scents of drowsing blossoms and chlorophyll and rich earth. And more familiar scents, too, scents he’d grown up with: Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker.

He groaned, trying to reach up to rub his eyes. But his arm failed to respond; a wave of tingling, burning pain pulsed through his limb, and he bit his lip hard, tasting blood. Electric sparks flared and vibrated under his skin. “What the… what happened…”

He blinked slowly, and the world began to come back into focus. He gazed up at the sky, a blue-green horizon marred by gray and brown clouds of smoke hanging in the air. His brothers swam into view, still in their helmets, fresh from the battlefield.

“Something bit you, didn’t it?” Tech asked, peering over him with his visor lifted, the skin around his goggles paler than usual. “I’m assuming it was some form of crotalid-like creature, given that it appears to have injected you with a neurotoxin. Surely you must have noticed. You should have told us!’ His eyes narrowed.

“I knew something was wrong,” Crosshair said sharply. “What were you thinking? If you’d gone down where I couldn’t see you --”

“Is it bad?” Hunter said, ignoring them.

“Oh, yeah. You should see your hand,” Wrecker said, shaking his head. “Looks horrible.”

Crosshair nudged Wrecker. “Quiet. He’ll figure that out soon enough.”

“But it does look awful --”

“True, but --”

“Arguing about it won’t help,” Tech said sternly. “We need to evacuate him. We’ve got to get back to the ship and the rest of our supplies.” He put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “But yes. It is fairly bad.”

Hunter groaned. “Wanted to -- complete the mission.” He swallowed. He lifted his head with a great effort, turning to look for signs of continued battle. “The clankers --”

“Blew ‘em up,” Wrecker said, his voice warm enough that Hunter could hear the grin under his helmet. “Got the all clear. Now we just gotta get out of here.”

“Luckily, our kits carry customizable antivenin, effective against most types of toxins. Which you should have known, and could have given yourself,” said Tech testily. He sighed. “I think this last dose is finally taking effect, but now I’ve used up all of our field stocks of antivenin, and you’ll need more before we get back to Kamino. At least you might be able to walk now. Your vitals are much better.”

Crosshair knelt down, holding out a hand to Hunter’s good side. Hunter reached out and took it, holding on tightly as Crosshair hoisted him back to his feet. He wavered for a moment, the world spinning, but things settled back into a normal view quickly. His head still felt muzzy and strange, but he was feeling more alert. He raised his bad hand --

“Oh hell,” he muttered between clenched teeth. Wrecker hadn’t been kidding. HIs hand, now missing its glove and gauntlet, was roughly three times its normal size, and his normally brown skin had turned a sick, mottled purplish-reddish color that looked poisonous itself. The bite wound oozed blood in a slow, nasty trickle. Pain was replaced intermittently by numbness, prickles, or sharp pulses, all of it unpleasant. His stomach turned, but he swallowed, managing to avoid vomiting.

“Told you it was horrible,” said Wrecker, putting an arm over his shoulders. “Here. Lean on me. We got your kit, don’t worry about it.” He tucked Hunter’s helmet under his other arm.

Hunter shuffled along beside Wrecker, leaning heavily on his brother Crosshair walked behind them holding the line, while Tech scouted ahead, leading them back to the ship. The sounds of the jungle, birds calling, insects buzzing, leaves rustling, mixed with Hunter’s grunts and puffs of breath, his footsteps scuffing against the loam-covered soil, the footfalls of his brothers.

“You really shoulda said somethin’,” Wrecker said after a few minutes. “There was time. Tech and I coulda gone back for you. Those clankers wouldn’t’ve got the best of us.”

“I wanted to have things under control,” Hunter muttered. “A good leader doesn’t get taken out by a little snake.”

“A good leader relies on his team,” Tech said from up ahead. He paused, turning around to join them. “If you were attempting to prove your invulnerability, you may have noticed that you have failed. We trust you, Hunter. But you must trust us too.”

His ears burned. Yeah. He’d screwed up.

“You’re right. I should’ve said something,” he admitted. “Crosshair figured it out, and I tried to tell him it was nothing. I was too focused on getting back to the battle. But this could have compromised the mission.”

Wrecker groaned, tossing his head, probably rolling his eyes under his helmet. “Yeah, yeah, the mission, but you coulda got taken out. That’s what we’re cross about!”

Hunter chuckled. “Aw, you big softy.”

“Watch who you’re callin’ soft,” Wrecker warned, squeezing Hunter in a hug that compressed his ribs and made him cough. Hunter weakly shoved back against his brother, and Wrecker guffawed, releasing the pressure. “Told ya.”

Crosshair closed the distance between them, stopping beside Hunter. “So the next time you’re bitten by a deadly jungle viper, you’ll let somebody know?” asked Crosshair, tilting his head and crossing his arms over his chest.

Hunter managed a weak smile. “Promise. Should’ve known you’d have my back.”

“Tch. Of course,” Crosshair said. He reached out and clasped Hunter’s shoulder briefly.

“We do this together, Hunter,” said Tech, nodding. “Always.” He turned back around, continuing onward.

They kept on to the ship, Hunter starting to pick up the pace slightly as the antivenin continued to work. The swelling was going down in his hand, and his head was feeling clearer than ever. Their trainers had told him many things about how to lead, but some things he was starting to realize he’d only learn through experience. Well, he was getting it now. A good leader communicated. A good leader kept his squad apprised of changing conditions.

And a good squad never left a man behind.

He leaned against Wrecker, still a little dizzy, but he was feeling better already.

#the bad batch #tbb fanfic #summerofbadbatch2024

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