#{ I hate the Fade. } — [ queue. ]

[peachsukii]

Might be a little radio silent today and tomorrow, but I'll be back soon. Gonna run off a queue & pop in and out. 💜

[freedcmscall]

you know, if you need advice on how to lay low i can give you some."

@savingthrcw

Anders barked out a laugh at the suggestion. Jokes, yes, jokes were the best medicine. He would know, he was a healer by nature and by practice, of course. And laughter always could be counted on to cover up any potential hurt that may have lurked below.

"Oh, and what makes you think I'm terrible at laying low myself?" He let the laugh trail off to a chuckle with a shake of his head. "Is it the fact that Templars seem unendingly able to find me, perhaps? Or the fact that they've been so regularly successful in dragging me back to the Circle, kicking and screaming and wishing I could be anywhere but there?" He bit his tongue. Right, time to stop talking before he said too much, after all. He had always been talkative, sometimes too much so (except for when he wasn't, when he got his new name. She didn't need to hear about that. No one did).

"I'd be perfectly able to disappear into the woods and never be found again, if I needed to. You know, if not for the blood magic that binds all of us poor souls to the whims of the Chantry and its Circles."

[mythvoiced]

-. won't be available 'til the world cup or the next euro cup and if italy wins this one pls visit me in jail

[aurora-starwars]

Oh my gosh your requests are open! I’m so hyped. Can I maybe request like a Dad! Jake Sully x Daughter! Reader where reader is just so much like Tsu’tey, stubborn and always spites him but they still get along? I can picture Jake missing his na’vi brother and his daughter is just him all over again. I mostly think of Ghost by Justin Bieber to be Jake trying to relive the short time that him and Tsu’tey get along.

Grief Is The Price We Pay For Love

Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Daughter!reader (platonic)

Summary: Jake can’t stop seeing Tsu’tey in his oldest daughter

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentioned violence, like one or two curse words

Word Bank: Kuru - Neural Queue; Olo'eyktan - Leader of the clan; Ikran - banshee, large flying animal; Iknimaya - rite of passage for the Omatikaya; Omatikaya - na’vi clan on Pandora; Pa’li - direhorse, horse like animal; skxawng - moron, idiot;

A/n: It has been a while, and for that I am truely sorry, life just kept sweeping me away. But I enjoyed writing this! Thank you for requesting! Please enjoy!!!!!!! <333333333333

Masterlist

As soon as she was born, her yellow eyes seemed to pierce Jake Sully’s just as Tsu’tey’s used to.

 Born alongside Neteyam, [Name] bore the distinct features of the Na’vi. Kuru starting at the top of her head, prominent lack of eyebrow, three fingers. All features he should associate with his mate, Neytiri, the mother of the twins. But as Jake watches her grow, he can’t help but see his fallen Na’vi brother.

Jake thought it would fade away, that it was something from his past haunting him and his daughter didn’t actually look like the reincarnate of Tsu’tey at all. Besides, if he were to see Tsu’tey in anyone, surely it would be his remarkably Na’vi son, who bore many of the same traits of his sister. But as they grew, Jake and Neytiri both could see just how similar [Name] and Tsu’tey actually were.

It started early, when they were teaching Neteyam, Kiri, and [Name] to walk, a fairly simple and necessary step for any child. This didn’t stop little [Name], who was a little less than a year old, from being stubborn. Neytiri and Jake started by holding their arms, lifting them up onto their feet so that they could stand. When they could stand, they would let go, moving away slightly in hopes they would follow. The ‘they’ was just Kiri and Neteyam. When they tried to help [Name], she only swatted her hand away and pouted, giving the most hateful glare one could receive.

Regretfully, Jake laughed at this, earning a smack to the shoulder from Neytiri. How could he not have though? [Name] looked just like Tsu’tey like that, acted like him too. Jake smiled fondly at his oldest daughter, who soon after tried to stand on her own, feeling left out from her siblings.

Another time Jake saw Tsu’tey in [Name] was when he was teaching [Name] and Neteyam how to hunt. They weren’t very old, five or six max, and they still had a lot of learning to do. This, however, did not stop [Name] from trying to teach Neteyam how to use a bow, despite hardly knowing how to use one herself. It was day three of teaching the kids and [Name] was on Neteyam’s back about his posture. She kept hitting his belly, telling him that he had to tighten his muscles, hitting his arm, telling him to raise his elbow. While she was right, Jake couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, how many times did Tsu’tey mock and criticize his form? Too many to count.

By the time Jake came to the present, Neteyam had half-heartedly thrown his bow down, huffing in frustration before running up to Jake and hugging his leg.

“[Name] is making fun of me!” Neteyam’s weak voice whined.

“It’s not my fault you suck!” [Name] laughed, her small hands on her hips.

Ever since then, [Name] seemed to beat out Neteyam in every subject. In skill, she beat all of the young warriors her age. She was quickly becoming one of the best warriors of her age, of the clan! Jake was more than proud. Proud of not only his daughter’s success, but just how Na’vi she has become. Na’vi, just like the most Na’vi person he knew.

Tsu’tey.

No matter where she went, [Name] would always remind Jake of Tsu’tey. Remind him of when they got along. And when they didn’t.

Like the day after her Iknimaya.

Jake knew he shouldn’t be worried, she wouldn’t be alone, and yet he did not want her to go out riding ikran with her friends. Her friends where nice kids, all warriors like her, that he has taught, but she just bonded with her ikran, the bond was new, and he did not trust [Name]’s ikran just yet. He remembers Bob, it took a few days, at least a week for them to completely trust each other. He did not want [Name]’s ikran to get spooked by something and leave her for dead.

[Name] did not take this news very well.

She was just leaving their family home, a wide smile on her face, when Jake stopped her. He knew she was so excited to attempt her Iknimaya and was even more proud to have successfully bonded with her own ikran. That is why he was not surprised to see her smile fall, her ears pin back, and shoulders slump.

“What? Why?” she wasn’t unreasonable, if her father had a good reason, she would respect his commands.

“Baby girl, I have said you cannot go, do not argue with me,” unfortunately Jake was not great at communicating.

[Name] gave him a piercing glare, shooting daggers that seemed to wound Jake immediately. But he could not show it, would not show it. He is the Olo'eyktan, he must act like it.

But does not stop the pained look that washes over his face once she had walked away.

Later that night, Neytiri scolded him lightly for preventing [Name] from enjoying time kids her age for once, instead of taking care of her siblings or training. While Jake was still apprehensive about the situation, feeling as if his fears were justified, he felt his rules might have been too strict this time.

It was good timing for this resolution because not even an hour later, [Name] arrived back to the family hut, having been gone all night riding her ikran with her friends.

Jake stood up immediately, making his way to the entrance of their home, waiting for [Name]’s eyes to meet his. When they did, [Name] seemed to have more composure than him, he almost felt threatened by her eyes. As if he was the one to do something wrong, not her.

“Where have you been? I thought you were with your siblings?” Jake was more than confused, was she not just sleeping in her room with her siblings?

“Dad, we both knew where I was, no need to do this,” she did not seem angry, but she did stand her ground like the grown warrior she was becoming.

“Do not worry, Father. I have been watching the others,” Neteyam remarks, walking out of the Sully kid’s shared room.

He lays a hand on his father’s shoulder, “If anyone can go out alone on ikran and be fine, it is my sister. If anything, she was protecting the others, and you know they fight well.”

Jake smiles at his son, patting the hand on his shoulder. Jake nods, looking down as if thinking before looking back up at his daughter. He smiles at her, extending a hand, an invitation.

Her piercing gaze drops, her smile reaching her face again as she breaks out into a warm laugh, taking her father’s hand. Jake pulls his daughter and son closer, bringing them into his chest, where they rest their heads.

Later that night, all Jake can think about is how [Name] seemed just like Tsu’tey in that moment.

Tsu’tey patted Jake on the back, a harsh sort of pat, one you would give if you secretly wanted to do harm to the other.

“Jakesully, you do not understand our ways, you will never be one of us,” as much as his words sounded serious, with the smile on his face and the light tone in his voice told Jake that this was more affectionate than hostile.

Jake aimed his bow again, taking in a deep breath, eyes locking onto the makeshift target. He sucked in his stomach, raised his elbow and let go.

“Ah, pretty good,” Tsu’tey nodded, looking at the bulleye. “For a dreamwalker,” he teased, playfully smacking Jake’s shoulder.

Jake noted Tsu’tey’s smile was light, out of character for the Na’vi who usually wore a piercing glare around him. The smile was unusual but welcomed and only helped Jake prove to himself that he was, in face, becoming one of the people.

But what really sealed the deal for Jake, was when he assigned Lo’ak, Neteyam, and [Name] as look out for Lo’ak’s first mission.

He only let Lo’ak join because he had become awfully annoying with his pestering. Always on about how if [Name] and Neteyam could go, why couldn’t he? Jake figured that Lo’ak would lose interest or get too scared to do anymore if he let him join. How wrong he was.

Lo’ak was a pain in the ass as always, and Neteyam and [Name] were doing their best to keep him inline. The whole way to the checkpoint was full of non-stop chatter and jokes about how he was going to destroy the RDA, how he was going to beat them all up all on his own. [Name] though her eyes might get stuck with the amount her eyes would roll.

“Lo’ak, shut your damn mouth or I will tell mum what you keep in that basket in our room,” [Name] practically barks.

Lo’ak goes quiet, and [Name] can see the purple of his cheeks, even from where she is on her ikran. Neteyam smiles at her, and she takes that as a thanks.

The problem came when they arrived at the checkpoint, bombs went off, the train went off track, and Lo’ak decided he wanted a piece of the action, diving his ikran in the direction of the pa’li riders.

[Name] just held her hand up at Neteyam, telling him to keep on look out, and she dove to join her youngest brother.

When she landed, she found Lo’ak holding a gun, letting out a battle cry.

“Lo’ak!” [Name] came running, eyes dark and her ears pinned, straight for Lo’ak.

“Put that thing down,” she ordered, shoving the gun into someone else’s arms. “Today is not the day to be a skxawng, let’s go,” [Name] grabbed him by the ear and dragged him back to his ikran.

Jake watched this from where he was stationed, feeling a glimmer of pride for his daughter in his chest and a sparkle of deep annoyance for his son. But he was left little time to think before Neteyam warned him of an incoming RDA aircraft.

When they made it back to base, the three young warriors lined up, all three practically unscathed but their sisters still came and checked on them.

Jake looked into his eldest daughter’s eyes, he saw a warrior, a warrior that cared for her loved ones, one that did not take BS. He saw Tsu’tey. His na’vi brother. He looked into her eyes, yellow eyes filled with focus and determination, and he brought his hand from his forehead downwards in a smooth motion.

“I see you, daughter.”

Master-list

A/n: Thank you so much for reading! My requests are open so please feel free to request! <3333333

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @adrunkskeletonsduck @luvlykrispy @tainted-artist4161 @gamorxa @valentineheartzz @nighttimemoonlover

[strywoven]

There are rules to being a PUBLIC FIGURE ( much as there are to being a hero ) , and Kaen had to learn quickly what it took to keep up a p p e a r a n c e s .  Not a good liar by any means , but a natural talent at acting ( to them , the whole world had always been a stage ; every moment mattered when every moment could be the performance of their life … or for their life ) , Kaen built up a carefully cultivated image of INNOCENCE & DOCILITY .  Such a front they flaunt often , but one Signal seems to easily bypass , seeing through them with a dead-eyed stare that leaves Kaen feeling … Exposed , uneasy.

And when alone , left with the hollowness in the void of Signal’s absence , they catch themself wondering just w h a t would happen if they allowed it , if they gave Signal more to play with than just these superficial facets ?  Who would know , anyways ?  But better yet ⸺ WHO WOULD STOP THEM ?

Perhaps , it’s just that sort of thinking which causes the twinge of tension between them at their rebuttal.  It’s a slight glimpse beneath the charade they maintain so diligently , but it is there ( the irritated flicker in deep blue hues , the twitch upon their smile which briefly turns it into a sneer — see for yourself how badly they want to bite ) .  But they are so STUBBORN about it , aren’t they ?

❝ Oh , so you’ll ‘ consider ’ it , will you ?  How sweet ! ❞  Tone is sharp , sardonic.  Then , they sigh , flicking their hands.  ❝ Fine fine , if that’s what y’want … ❞  Reluctant , bratty , but they o b e y ( like they always do ) .  Small thing sinks to their knees , head tipped back to meet their gaze above , and scarred hands clasped before their breast ( as if in prayer to malignant god ) .  So good they are , putting on a NEEDY EXPRESSION , all big eyes and pleading look , voice supplanting Signal once again ( desperate tremor included ) , ❝ Please , I know I don’t deserve even that , but it’s all I want from you , it’s all I can think t'ask for !  Please , Signal , please tell me everythin’ ! ❞

you look at them and wonder, what is the limit ? how far do you have to push until they break like some busted doll ? a mind is fragile but in the hands of someone like you, it's malleable. but you have a feeling that kaen is more twisted than they let usually let on, exposed to you (only you) in vulnerable moments, just slivers of what must be lurking within. how devastating that they don't just act on such feelings .. how idiotic.

if you handed them the knife, would they slam it into your chest ?

eyes latch onto the sight of the stained shirt, fixated on them in blood. the color suits them in some weird way, it makes your mouth salivate like you've had the most divine meal bestowed to you. you imagine blood cascading down their chin, your blood that stained their lips. you imagine them suffering at your hands as you watch from above like some angel of death. for a moment, your lips quirk upwards before you force them into a flat line, irritated by the display of emotion.

there's so much you yearn to do but you have a goal. even someone like you has ambitions even if yours were disgusting to others.

it's so dangerous to let a sheep near a wolf, especially one like you. but if the sheep follows the wolf around, what if the wolf to do but allow it until they finally give in and bite into tender flesh, until bloody maw is satisfied ? you linger in front of them, staring at them with eyes void of anything - emotion, light, life. they play this odd push-and-pull game of yours and they do it beautifully, always igniting a flame inside your gut, like revived interest.

you stare and stare until your mouth opens and you speak, monotone voice filling the air. " is that your attempt at begging ? you can do better than this. " your hand reaches out, falling gently onto their shoulder. " begging means on your knees, pleading for me to spare even a scrap of information. will you do that for me ? maybe then i'll consider it. it was a beautiful scene, really .. i think you would've appreciated the beauty of it all. " the blood is drying on your skin, uncomfortable yet pleasing all at once. you want to wash it off but when they stand before you like this, so eager to know .. you could almost drool.

[kikohao]

ᅠᅠᅠᅠ ⠀⠀⠀⋆˙. let me protect you instead

★ ㅤㅤpairing ; bf!jihoon x reader (student!jihoon x student!reader) ★ ㅤㅤsummary ; in which jihoon comes to save you when you're at your lowest ★ ㅤㅤthemes ; established relationship, fluff, comfort fic ★ ㅤㅤwarnings ; mentions of trauma, traumatic relationship with parents, reader cries, cursing ★ ㅤㅤword count ; 1.05k ★ ㅤㅤtaglist ; @nonononranghaee ★ ㅤㅤa/n ; i hate how there's literaly no jihoon fluff fics :( so decided to take matters in my own hands 🗣🗣 likes and reblogs are appreciated! &lt;3

We most certainly didn’t plan a movie night to be going about on such a horrible, pouring day. “Such luck,” you scoffed to yourself, positioning the pillows on the couch, placing the snacks on the small table Jihoon had bought for you when you first started living alone. It was a simple, yet elegant circular table that had such attractive engravings on it.

You didn’t particularly hate rainy days, just the thunder that came with it; that was the dreadful part.

Ding.

“I might be late today, got extra work at the studio. I’ll try to be there by ’15. Love you.”

I loud sigh escaped your mouth. You didn’t really care that he was going to be late; just the fact that he’s working overtime again – fourth time this week. But then again, it’s Jihoon, its not anything new to him. Moments like this take you back to your high school memories – when you first met Jihoon as a transfer student at your school.

You were walking home from school, after yet another long, exhausting day at cram school. Oh how you wanted to head home, grab a big cup of hot chocolate, and just sleep.

Deciding to grab some hot chocolate powder, you set foot in the convenience store by your house. Greeting the part-time worker who seemed to be about a year or two older than you, you make your way towards the appropriate section, getting a hold of a packet of the powder. “Wouldn’t hurt to get some marsh mellows I suppose..” You grinned.

You rush to get a spot at the queue to pay, leaving the store at that. Walking back, you spot a familiar student surrounded by a group of senior at your school. The first thought that came up in your head was just to ignore. Ignore them. Don’t get involved.

“Hey!” You yelled, most likely impulsively – earning confused stares from the the same seniors that were trying to bully the student. Oh, for fuck’s sake, here we go again.

You walk towards the boy, grabbing his wrist; you stand in front of him. In attempt to leave the place, you take a step ahead, just for the way to be blocked my one of the seniors. He wore a cap the wrong way around, trying to look “cool”. What a generation, you sighed.

“What do you think you’re doing? We were talking with him?” He started.

7:58 pm. Nah, I’ve got no time for this.

I ignored their comment and lead the student some place away from them, receiving absurd scoffs from them.

I turn to him, “Are you okay?” I ask him, ignoring my racing heart. Obviously, you didn’t think you’d get away with such a thing. You expected a fight or something like that; you planned on taking a run for it. His stare bore through you. “Don’t worry, they’re gone now.” You whispered to him, which was met with small sigh. “Was it relief?” you thought to yourself.

You walked with him for a while.

Silence.

Not one of us dared to utter a word.

Yeah, I’m not having this, you thought to yourself. “I’m Y/N,” you started in attempt to loosen the mood, hoping to start a conversation. “What’s your name?”

“Jihoon.” A small mumble. His voice was cute. This is when you actually looked up to him. The street lights helped along the way; you looked at him. He was charming. Charming in the cute sort of way. The way his round face appropriately fit with the rest of his features.

Did your heart just skip a beat?

“If those seniors ever bully you again, tell me. I’ll protect you!” You stood in front of him, hand on your chest as a sort of pledge, earning a small smile, later fading.

Guess you didn’t realize that he went from a stranger to someone who you couldn’t stop thinking about.

The rain started to beat down further, accompanied by the rumbling roars of the thunder. You were alarmed. You hated thunder storms. You hated them so fucking much.

It reminded you of terrifying memories. It reminded you of your parents. You thought it would stop re-appearing after you walked out of their lives. Guess it didn’t. Guess you’ll never forget how they made you feel.

You sat down, knees against your chest, your hands placed on your ears in attempt to block out the sounds. Tears welled up in my eyes. You hated how your anger turned into tears.

It felt like hell.

“Congratulations! You survived the war! Now, live with the trauma.” That. That’s it. It lingers, forever.

Another spur of tears raced forward, just to be stopped by someone.

Jihoon.

That was the end. You didn’t like being like this – especially in front of him. You were supposed to be the one protecting him. You didn’t want him to see you feel weak. You didn’t want him to see you at your worst.

It wasn’t sobs now, but tears. “It’s okay, It’s okay,” He soothed, rubbing circles onto my back, engulfing me into a hug. “Everything’s okay,”

But it wasn’t. Everything was ruined.

“Let me protect you instead, Y/N.”

That was when you knew – when you knew he was the one.

I was surrounded by a few students, maybe older than I?

“Hey! Aren’t you the new transfer student?” One spoke. I nodded.

“Do you want to join the new basketball team? We’re looking for more players from Class 11.” Another spoke. “Basketball?” I spoke out, receiving a nod from the seniors.

“Well,” I started, only to be cut off by a girl, rushing towards us.

“Hey!” Everyone from this school is actually insane, I thought. What I nearly didn’t expect at all was her to grab my wrist. She was talking for me. She was standing up for me.

Cute.

Never did I believe in fate. But there it was. A meeting of fate. I suppose I fell for her without even realizing I did.

And suddenly, all the love songs were about you.

[celestialprincesse]

Hii !! Okay so I had a thought about your totally cute baker and Simon. So what if Simon retires eventually and him and the baker own a shop together but he's a butcher. And I think it's be cute because everyone in town would stop there for dinner ingredients and treats like two birds one stone and it's just gonna grow into this mom and pop shop !!

The first thing I thought of reading this was Sweeney Todd🤭 A Sweeney Todd Simon x reader AU would be so delicious but anywhoo !!

Mornings have always been your favourite. Not in the sense that you love waking up, in fact, you hate it. The reason you love mornings so much is because you get to spend them with him. You walk hand in hand to the shop together, watching as the sun comes up blazing over the tops of the older buildings in your little town. You snuggle up to him against the still present, slowly fading, morning frost as he unlocks the door to your place. The two of you sway and hum to quiet music as you open up, place your produce in the pretty display cases he'd helped you paint. The reason you love mornings so much is because Simon is in them.

You sigh deeply as Simon finishes tying the back of your apron up for you, leaning into him as you take in the quiet of the morning, before everyone else is awake. It's just the two of you, in your own quaint little world. Whilst the morning batch of steak pies cook away in the oven, you get busy helping Simon sharpen his carving knives, leaning into his side as he teaches you how to properly sharpen the meat cleaver you'd got him for Christmas. Admittedly, you'd paid through the nose for it, but some days you swear he loves the hulking blade of German stainless steel more than he does you.

"Smells like heaven." He rumbles low in your ear as you withdraw the steaming pies from the oven, the shadows of people queueing up already silhouetting the blinds as you get ready for the morning rush. Early last summer, only a few months after you and Simon had moved into the new place, an old converted butcher shop, some influencer type had supposedly raved about your pies in their account, and the next morning you'd been flooded. Of course, the secret to the best steak pie is the perfect cut of meat, all the trimmings and lots of love. Having a butcher for a boyfriend pays off.

You'd originally been surprised at how many people actually came by you and Simon's shared shop, but when other local producers had asked for you to retail their products too, the place had boomed. People would come in and grab everything they needed - cuts of meat, all kinds of jams and pates, local honey and much more - and to top it off, your famous steak pie for the journey home.

Not only do people love you and Simon's shop, but you love running it. Getting to spend every day with your person, baking and chatting and flitting around is the dream - and you're living it.

Short but sweet 🥴🫶 Also I haven't written for Ghost in what feels like AGES I missed him💕

[freedcmscall]

Oh how those words bring a surge of joyous warmth to Anders' chest. As secretive and careful as they must be about such things, as long as he has been involved with the Underground, it never fails to lighten his mood to hear of their successes, they a necessary foil to the failures which eternally torment him. And yet he is also filled with a longing — he knows all too well that his own phylactery is still out there, somewhere, an eternal homing beacon with which Templars shall always be able to find him. One day his too shall lie shattered upon cobbles.

"Certainly not the noblest," he retorts, never one to give in to exorbitant pride. Even still, he takes the compliments to heart. From a man such as Roland, though they have only just met, it is made clear to Anders how much the words mean. "I like to think that anyone, given an opporutnity like mine, would do the same." Even as he speaks such words, he knows them to be untrue. He's seen too much of the world to believe most as selfless as he. Moreover, he knows as well that he was not 'given an opporutnity,' but rather fought for it tooth and nail, that it is an opoprtunity he is constantly on the brink of losing, with threats pressing in on all sides.

"I ask nothing of you, Roland." His word is final, certain. Anders knows how much he wants for, but knows better that he considers himself above relying on charity from his patients, of all people. Between his own gathering when out with Hawke and the small amount of coin he is able to scrounge together, he keeps the clinic afloat. Anything for personal consumption is a bonus that he, likewise, funds only from his own purse. "Hobbies? Mage freedom, of course." And oh, had this been years ago, he would have had so many more hobbies of which to speak, but time and Justice have not afforded him the chance to continue pursuing such things. "Should you truly insist, I would ask only of you for any information you have brought with you from the inside, for the Underground and the greater Cause."

"Dost I," confirms he, as still he leans with that acute need for privacy involved. "The Underground– that serpentine Movement beneath the Stone– is what art I preambled to in safety with mine compatriots. Present upon those cousins and kin from that great shattering of the chilled features of our blood." And Roland's eyebrows dost lift, firstly in deliberate Meaning: those phylacteries within the Walls, along with his, that didst he destroy, brilliant in Finality.

And he barks laughter in a great guffaw for that morbid sense of humor. "The Anders," cheers he, shifting to hang his legs off the edge of that helpful cot. "Noblest Mage what aides for all Needy, for the Downtrodden, exemplary Person of the highest kindness for our kinfolk and cats abound," rattles he, and Roland's flirting is fantastic, second Nature in his own breathing.

"Am I wondr'usly blessed to meet thee in person, Anders," says Roland seriously, and 'tis solemn in this Vow; this awesome vision that the myth, a shining beacon for Hope of mages in Kirkwall, is sat here, talking with him; having saved him, verily a'fore that nasty reality that Roland's death were indeed a possibility.

"Thou hast spake of 'no fee', but, yea, I wilt confer with the twist-side of that Concept: I wilt offer something in Trade, whether by brook or of a trinket by Crook," says he. "And all in abundance of thine personal Favor. What art thine hobbies?" asks he, as he cups his cup and drinks from it to wet at his mouth.

[zombiewhor3]

SOUTH PAW?

carl grimes x fem reader

WARNINGS: mentions of character death (Abraham & Glenn), mentions of gore, traumatic events, mentions of amputation, begging, mentions of pregnancy (Maggie's), Negan, unedited work.

A/N: sorry for the long break, i've been so busy with a lot of things but i have a few scrap drafts i might put together and post so i'll try my best to update my queue this week.

a long night of violence is how she could describe it, a long night of tears pouring down everyone's faces as they watched a cruel man bash in two of their friends heads without even such an ounce of mercy for their poor souls in his mind.

the night felt like the eternity but as the sun had risen and the night faded it was still like a fever dream, like this wasn't all real and she was going to have to wake up soon from this nightmare.

except this was all real, Abraham and Glenn's dead bodies with their heads smashed in that was real, all of the blood splattered on y/n's face from the slinging of Negan's bat that was real.

she watched as Rick was tossed back out onto the gravel, his hands reaching to stop himself as he followed the man's forceful orders to get on all fours while he kneeled down to him.

"i'm giving you a choice Rick and this is your grand prize, what you do next will decide whether it becomes just those twos bad day or the rest of these lovely men and women sitting in front of us"

he gestured with his hands for his men to point guns at the back of their heads and y/n could feel the barrel pressed against the back of her head making her swallow harshly.

her knees started to ache from the rocks that pressed against them, the blood of a father figure had dried on her face and she could almost feel like it had been sinking into the pores of her skin.

she felt gross to have the blood on her, she felt sick each time she even looked at the dead man who was next to her, she felt sick knowing his pregnant wife was a sobbing wreck just a few feet away.

and Carl had hated to see her cry with each strike from Negan's bat that pounded into Glenn's head like he wasn't a person but yet just a piece of meat Negan used as his beating ground.

she watched as Negan had approached Carl making her heart sink as he rested his bat against his shoulder and she watched as some of the blood smeared out onto his leather.

he held out a hand to Carl who cocked his head hesitantly as he tried to ignore the gesture but Negan smiled and cleared his throat before speaking up "take my hand kid" he spoke bitterly watching as the teen finally gave in and took the man's hand.

he was stood up and Negan had waved his arm out to the side to where the boy's father rested on the ground, blood on his face, eye bags and his eyes red as his eye were still looking like they had been watering again, like they were on the brim of tears.

he pointed at the spot empty next to his father as Carl took a few steps watching as Negan stood in front of him taking a quite consideration to the gauze over his missing eye.

"you a south paw?" he asked watching as Carl looked clearly confused by a phrase he never heard before and it made Negan re-phrase his question to him, "you a lefty?" he watched as Carl shook his head while Negan pulled out a belt and un-raveled it.

he tied a belt against the boy's arm, "that hurt?" Negan remarked watching as the boy in the hat snapped back a quick 'no' before looking down at the leather tightened on his arm.

"on the ground next to Daddy and don't forget to spread your wings boy" Negan spoke as he watched Carl lay flat on the ground, his head turning in the direction to where he could see y/n and his father.

he could see the terror on his girlfriends face, the fear stuck in her eyes as her palms were flat and sinking into the same gravel the soft flesh of his cheek had now been resting against.

he could hear the crunching of Negan's boots against the rocks, and it stopped once he could see him crouch next to him thanking Simon for the pen that was given to him,

he himself was scared of what he had planned for him, what Negan had planned to do to Carl especially in front of his father and his girlfriend who had more tears pouring down her face.

he marked Carl's arm and apologized in such an sarcastic way that Carl had never even heard a human being sound so derisive in that way, even in the apocalypse.

he could hear his father start to beg as his girlfriend looked down at the ground using the back of her hand to cover up her sniffles, to cover up the rapid breathing spilling out from her.

he could see the harsh way her body rattled as she tried to manage to stay quiet in the fear that someone else would die, in fear that maybe it'd be her or even Carl that'd be next.

the word please was pouring like a continuous river in his head, the word his father kept repeating over and over as he begged Negan to show his son some mercy, to show he himself some mercy.

"don't beg me because i ain't the one doing shit" Negan spoke roughly patting Rick against the back before he gave his next order at the quite obvious traumatized man who was on all fours before him.

"Rick pick up your ax," he paused licking his chapped lips clean before continuing what he wanted Rick to do, "and cut off your son's left arm, now i know you're gonna have to process that for a second and believe me that makes sense so i'll give you a minute"

a loud gasp of air had erupted from y/n's mouth as she closed her eyes at the feeling of the barrel pressing even harder against the back of her head making her lip shake and her eyes flood.

he stood up and rubbed his hands on the denim of his pants watching as Rick's expression turn into now an even stronger pleading one, like it was just the ocean color of his eyes and the quiver of his lip giving off all the true emotion even more than his words that were spilled in such a babble of emotion.

"i am still gonna need you to do it though or all these people are going to die, then Carl dies, then the people back at your home die, and i'm gonna keep you living for a few years just so you can think about the decision you make right now"

Negan looked around at the men and women all lined up, and yet one had the courage to speak up, y/n to be exact only had the courage to speak up because it was her boyfriends life on the line.

"you d-don't have to do t-this, We understand! please we u-understand!" she looked down at her boyfriend who almost had a few tears slipping of his own as he looked at her,

as he looked at the shaking and sobbing mess this man had turned her into, he watched the sorrow tearing through her like a walker who was hungry for flesh.

he seemed to like the fear that ran though all of them, he liked the idea of watching them all tremble while they payed the price of wiping out one of his out posts because something about the pity and the terror gave him power, it gave him control.

"I'm not so sure Rick does. So i'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line i drew out for you! now believe me this is a screwed up thing to ask, trust me i know but it's gonna have to be clean nothing messy so our doctors can fold something over."

he watched Rick tremble as he kneeled and continued to spew out his words, "we have great doctors the kid'll be fine, probably. and Rick we're in a time frame so this needs to happen now or i will crush this fella's head in myself"

"please i can take his place" Rick begged over and over as his throat felt sore and his mouth dry while his eyes ached and his head started to pound at the idea of hurting his son.

"please Negan please" Rick begged again watching as the man ran over some stubble of his beard and shook his head with a 'no' to answer Rick's pleas for it to be him instead.

"this is the only way, not making this decision is a big decision. Do you want to see everyone in front of you die? because if you don't pick up that ax you will, and you will see everything"

Rick cleared his throat as his hands remained planted in the rocks still in a pity of confusion from the whole situation, and now Negan had started to count loudly and once he got to one Rick had his ax raised while Carl was yelling at him to go through with it.

Y/n sobbed into her hands as she could hear her boyfriend cry out for his own father to cut off his arm, and when she could hear the soft chuckle of Negan and the soft gasping of Rick and not even a subtle yell or scream from Carl but yet she still buried her face.

Negan had taken the ax away from Rick's raised arm and he reached up a hand to pull Carl up from the ground, "you answer to me, you provide for me, you belong to me" and Rick nodded his head and agreed to the fact that he had now belonged to Negan and his men.

"see that look is the look i wanted to see! and man we did it, even those dead guys with the smashed in brains get a participation award for sure" he sighed as he tossed his bat over his shoulder.

"i hope for everyone's sake you understand how things work around here, things change and right about now they've changed whatever you had going for you is over, now i'll be back in a week Rick so use the truck i'll leave to gather my shit or someone else dies."

"I can't look, I can't, Carl please"

she mumbled feeling as someone in front of her had tugged on her hands softly, but she still held them against her face in fear she would see other blood being shed that she didn't want to see.

"look at me y/n, look at me"

he spoke finally being able to pull her hands away from her face once she realized that it was Carl and he had both of his arms, he furrowed his brows softly watching as she quivered and couldn't keep her eyes away from the line that he had drawn out onto his arm.

-

once he and his men had left y/n tried to stand but she could only drop back on her knees as she looked over at the dead man on the ground next to her, she gasped as her knees felt weak.

and it was Carl who lifted her up, it was Carl's arms that wrapped around her while he gave her the comfort of burying her face into the soft fabric of his flannel to shield herself from the damage and the violence that had been done to her friend.

she sobbed so hard that she could feel it shake both of their bodies, Carl stroked over her hair and watched as she shook under his grasp, she shook so hard her body started to wobble.

she couldn't speak because every time she tried to get a word out it was just a rush of tears, a rush of gasps for air, a rush of mutters that weren't even comprehensible to him or her.

her vision seemed blurry and her head was pounding so hard and her heart beat so fast she felt like she was dying, she felt like the world had been slipping away from her finger tips.

the only word that had been able to be heard was a loud gasp of 'no' as she looked at the line still on his arm, the line where Negan wanted Rick to chop off his arm, the line that now told trembling stories.

she squeezed her hand on it so tight that even the belt hadn't cut off that much circulation to his arm, she clung to his shirt as she could hear the sound of someone's shoes crunching against the gravel.

she could hear Maggie's cries and Rick who whispered something to his son who held out onto the shaking y/n, Sasha and Rosita frozen in such a terror and disbelief, Eugene still crying softly, Aaron and Michonne who were sitting in such a pity of silence.

and the two bodies around them.

y/n had slipped to her knees and Carl had let her, he let her bury her face into the ground and he rubbed her back as he tried to stop her from hyper ventilating at the shock around her but it was no use because it felt a ton of bricks were pressing against her chest.

She could feel a second hand on her back and she could tell it was Rick's by the wedding ring that she could feel through the cotton t-shirt she had been wearing,

"oh god, t-that c-could've been y-you" she sputtered out as she still felt like she could feel the specks of blood hitting her cheek with each and every strike from Negan's bat smashing into the pour mans head.

her body ached and it felt like her lungs had now finally collapsed in from the harsh beating her heart had pushed off, her bones ached from all the shaking and her cheeks were sore from the amount of tears that had been poured down them.

"i'm right here y/n, i'm right here" he had dropped to his knees and placed his hat down on the ground, he let his knees sink into the same rocks where the bodies laid.

where Maggie's tears had poured and where they knew the rest of the lives had just changed forever because they got the shit end of a deal they should've never even taken.

"Maggie" she managed to gasp out as she could feel her limp body being lifted up by not just Carl but his father, they had lifted her up so she could be taken to Maggie.

the widow's lungs gasped for air as she looked down at the ground, her knees ached and she felt sick even sicker than before, she could feel the teen reach out and place a soft but shaking hand a top of hers and to which she had finally spoken out.

"you need to go, you need to get everyone out of here Rick" Maggie spoke still sounding so brave, like she was keeping it all together when in reality she was spiraling in her mind.

spiraling at the fact her father, her sister and now her husband the father of her child had been killed in front of her, after they had begged and after they had tried their best to bargain.

"he's our family to, we'll do this together" Rick spoke watching as Maggie sniffled and the still distraught teen next to her had nodded along with the idea as her eyes filled with seeping tears.

"he's right we'll do it t-together because we're all family"

[freedcmscall]

“Just lean on me, I’ll help you walk.” from eritvita!

@eritvita

A stubborn shake of the head even as Anders stumbles over his own feet. He's fine, really. Templars have simply been better at watching him, or perhaps he got too comfortable, too confident. It was only a matter of time before his tattered robes were recognised as something only mages wear. It was only a matter of time before his 'walking stick' was too clearly recognised as a staff. They would leave him be soon enough, the good folks of Darktown would never let them get him. He would never let them get him.

"Really, it's nothing." A blatant lie. The healer tested out putting weight on his leg; it nearly buckled under the pressure. Dammit. He reached deep inside, practically floundering about for any sense of mana, but to no avail. Really, whoever it was who decided that templars deserved the ability to strip a mage of their access to magic was a true monster. The attempt to pull forth magic temporarily walled off from his access brought forth a new surge of nausea that he forced down. Best not to get sick in front of anyone, best not to worry Roland more than he clearly already worried.

"Well, nothing I've not dealt with before, actually," he laughs. Laughter is the best medicine, or something. Or humour is the best coping mechanism. "No one laid a hand on you, did they?" Even through his own suffering, Anders always has to put the well-being of others in front of his own pain. It was something in his nature, innate and independent of his practice as a Spirit Healer. Simply it is who he is.

[bbnibini]

You, Over the World (Solomon)

So, I wasn't satisfied with the “snow” entry in the 9days of Solomon challenge and always intended to write another fic in the challenge outside of the continuing narrative I was working on, but life had plans and I ran out of time so I dedicate this oneshot to its wonderful organiser @impish-ivy. I switched out “humanity” for “the world” in the repeating dialogues cause it sounded more dramatic lol but this should have been an entry for ‘humanity’.  If the vibes are familiar, I was thinking a lot about Frieren while writing this. :))

“Would you choose the world over me?”

He mutters a yes over the verdant foliage, amongst the spring flowers that bloomed over melted snow. He says it again as he traced the petals with his fingers, his memories simmering in the past—your understanding eyes, smiling and unwavering, as if he were waiting for you to say something else. 

He held his breath,

“Would you choose the world over me?”

…and he says yes again under the shade of an umbrella overlooking the horizon. He squints his eyes against the hot air blowing on his face. The unchanging view he once saw with you became unrecognisable. The sky was blue as always; the summer sun, hot and cruel as he buried his feet under the warm sand—he strained his ears to listen to your stories, but even a whisper of them had been lost in time—the weight of his choice carried away by the thrashing waves. The world over you. “The greater good”. The “logical” choice that even you understood that he had to make. He thinks this over and over until the cicadas had stopped crying, and the punishing heat of the sun hid itself away to welcome a cool, moonless sky. 

With nothing but his thoughts to occupy him, he walks towards the ocean again. Aimlessly, almost dragging his feet, until he heard the currents, the salty air welcoming him as his feet touched the seawater. He hated everything about it, but he couldn't get you it off his mind–he should not even care anymore. He never cared. Everything that carried a piece of you is seafoam dissolving in the tides, and your memories were nothing but a ghost haunting him in the night.

“Would you choose the world over me?”

He was at a loss for words as he remembered the question again when a leaf fell on his face, waking him up from an unplanned nap. He was never the earliest riser. Mornings to him were nothing but extra hours of sleep, but he found himself there again despite the absence of…everything. The busy crowds haggling for bargains—cinnamon and nutmeg and the falling leaves. Your hands were on his face, slapping him gently on his cheeks to rouse him from his slumber. Your voice was admonishing yet sweet.

It's gone too, I suppose. 

He thought to himself as he waited for a flea market in the forgotten park, with nothing but the dents on the pavement and fading paint telling him that it was actually there. Years ago, maybe. Relocated somewhere else. Why didn't he bother to know? He did remember a stall there that he frequented with you. A kind stranger told him they have a whole chain of restaurants now; sold to a big company after the original owner’s passing. The orange leaves crunched beneath him as he left to take another train, waiting for hours on the queue to be seated.

He ordered your favourite.

But it didn't taste anything like it. 

The texture was off. Something was wrong with the taste. It was too hot and too cold at the same time. That couldn't be right, so he tried again and ordered his usual but it tasted even weirder: an amalgamation of textures and flavours that barely paid homage to its humble roots. And he wasn't even much of a gourmet. 

He left, letting his eyes linger on the seated crowd: their blissful faces obviously enjoying their meal. He sighs.

“Would you choose the world over me?”

Everything was grey; the orange and yellows and reds were being buried in the cold drafts. He asks you to close the door, only to be reminded that Cocytus Hall was nothing but ruins now; earth and dust. Rotting foundations and leaking ceilings. Seen better days. 

“Why have you chosen the world over me?”

He didn't know. What should he have answered you? The more time passed, the more it felt as if the hours had gotten slower and slower. His youthful face was a painful reminder of an eternity waiting for him. There was an aching that lingered in his chest that never went away. The view from outside was pure white. A light fog formed on the window as he breathed out and drew faces. He had many thoughts, but most were barely comprehensible, mangling into static noise. He stared into the distance. 

It must be a beautiful day. It was warmer than a usual December, and the view from outside was breathtaking. Didn't he just  make a breakthrough in his research? The Demon Prince and his butler are set to arrive in a day to honour his contributions…or something like that. He wasn't sure. It was a feat that his academic peers envied greatly, for he had yet again proven why he was called “The Wise”. 

.

.

.

.

.

Never “The Heartful.” Not even discerning. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. There, he saw you. 

“Cheer up, Solomon!”

A gloved hand that took his own. There was a question lingering in his mind as you walked through the thick snow. 

“Would you let me choose the world over you?”

He couldn't remember your face. He had imagined the scenes in his head so many times, and it only worsened every cold winter he had to spend on his own.

But he had no choice.

Company was all but warm bodies that didn't seep into his soul. They laced fingers with him and whispered sweet words, but he was a phantom whose presence they couldn't even touch. 

He was barely there or anywhere. See-through and paper-thin; deaf to kindness even in the face of sincerity. He remembered caring more, maybe a century ago, when he could still count the numbers of your fading presence with his fingers. But now…

…he saw you walking away again, so he pulled you back into his arms where you fit perfectly.

Where dreams were his only comfort. Where centuries and aeons felt like minutes ago, and the entire world that remained at your loss had any semblance of meaning. He held your face and pressed your lips on his, hoping all of what he couldn't say would reach you, 

“I wish I didn't.”

…even if it's too late.

[freedcmscall]

Anders grumbled to himself, shaking his head. 'Slipped getting out of bed and died,' his arse. If anything, tripping over a cat was more likely. "A human can kill me if he'd like," he shrugged, "Long as they aren't a Templar or otherwise Chantry-affiliated. I'd rather burn everything down than have my life ended by one of them." A hint of anger crept its way into Anders' speech without intent, but given the situation they had just dealt with, surely it was understandable at the very least.

He was glad, then, for the distraction that the continued focus on the speech provided. Anything to get off of more serious topics. If you asked Anders, those were best suited for moments before perceived death, to be brushed off as dramatics should they survive and to be heroic last words otherwise. No reason not to enjoy life to its fullest whenever possible. He knew it was very likely he wouldn't think such a way had he not had his freedom and life stripped away when he was only 12 years old, but there was no way to change the past, so instead he made efforts to accept even the worst parts of himself. "To me, it sounds like you know the way to the public's heart better than most nobles. Drinks and humour — what more does the average Fereldan farmer want?" He managed a laugh at that, knowing how right he was. Most of his better experiences in life involved one or both.

"Terribly sorry you have to learn this way, but I don't believe in 'love at first sight'." Even with Karl, it had been a slow move from friendship to love. And his heart still ached at the thought of Karl, surely suffering alone, if not dead by then. No, Karl was strong, he surely wasn't dead. Anders shook his head to clear himself of such morbid thoughts, better suited to his bed when he was stricken with insomnia. "You will not touch Ser Pounce. Besides, I've trained him in battle. If you take him from me, I'm sure he'll eat your eyeballs."

"You strike me as a 'slipped getting out of bed and died' type, but yeah, a cliff works too. I'm Darkspawn type or alternatively eaten by Mabaris..." Neria wrinkled her nose, "All are acceptable but the noble one. No human is going to kill me, ask Loghain." There was still some poison in her voice when she mentioned him, though it was nothing compared to Jowan. Damned Jowan. But that was nothing Anders would know about and she shouldn't sout her mood thinking about him.

"I did," she retorted while he spoke, after he told her she didn't have to give him that talk, but her expression turned into one of disgust and long-suffering as he kept going about the speech. "No, actually I started with 'so, anything interesting happened lately?' and they thought it was funny, so I went for the comedy route. Shockingly, I didn't want to have a heartfelt talk with a thousand strangers. And I didn't want to promise peace and happiness nor talk about the fact that we still had to go after all the Darkspawn that was still infesting Ferelden, so in the end I mostly invited them to celebrate and kept cracking jokes, which makes me rethink my career choices, I should've done drunk stand-up comedy... Now, the damn Landsmeet was the shitshow. Loghain was a backstabbing ass, and I had literally walked into torture chambers for those people earlier, and rescued a bunch, let alone all the work I had been doing all over Ferelden, and after my arguments they were still going to arrest me. Good thing they still let me duel with him or I would have set the place on fire..." truthfully there was no real bite in her words there, unlike when speaking of Loghain himself, because what did they know.

"What do you mean solely to avoid Templars, are you telling me it wasn't my charm and love at first sight that made you join me? I thought we had something, you are going to wound me like this? I'm taking the cat back."

[https-genesis]

deserving child | dad!jake x daughter!reader

Sypnosis; Whatever had your father done before you were born had nothing to do with you today, but Quaritch didn't care. Children or not, you were Jake's.

Contents; angst little comfort, typical avatar violence, drabble? extreme depictions of gore?? Jake's pov, no use of y/n,

Dictionary; sempul - dad/daddy, sa'nok - mother, tsurak - skimwing, kuru - queue, uturu - sanctuary

A/N; I hate this but anyway

Jake Sully. Failed life on Earth, dead brother. Paralyzed from the waist down, out of service. Sent to replace his brother on a military mission, Pandora. Falling for the forrest, the culture, the people... Neytiri. Even though he had taken everything from her, her sister, her father, her ikran, her people... Neytiri had faith. She fought with him. His beautiful mate... His children. His firstborn son, Neteyam, and his twin, you. Oh, how life had betrayed him. Or had he betrayed life? After all, he betrayed an entire race. Was it unfair? Had he done the good thing, or was he selfish?

Jake still remembers a quote from the Bible he had read years before his 20th birthday. Before his brother was killed on the field.

"For am I seeking the approval of man or of God? And if I am seeking the approval of man, will I still be a servant of grace?"

As Jake sat still onto the back of his tamed tsurak within the seas of the reefs, hundreds of vengeful Na'vi in the same position behind him, he thought back to fifteen years ago. He could've left with Quaritch. Be could've surrendered. Saved thousands of innocent lives and give his own. But he didn't. He chose to stay and fight, but for what?

He could clearly see your distressed faces kneeling and facing him on the Demon Ship. Quaritch and his men held you and your siblings tighly in place and the gun pressed to your temple that digged into your skin harshly.

Jake chose to stay and fight. It brought him here. His children about to get executed right in front of his helpless eyes, unable to do anything but to weep to himself like a coward.

The sound of Neytiri's distressed pleas in his ears made them ring, but he couldn't hear a single word.

Jake could see in his head the faded image of your brains splattered onto the pavement of the ship and for a brief moment he pondered if this was all a dream. It wasn't, however, you were still alive. The choice was his, he knew it well. Would Neytiri even forgive him? Would you? Would Tuk be able to pass her own Iknimaya without her father?

☆

The freezing cold metal pressed firmly against the side of your head burned like dry ice. You had seen your father use similar machinery on the field, but you had never seen it be pointed at someone else. Even less had you thought you'd be the one in this kind of situation. Quaritch had your kuru thigh in his unoccupied hand, pulling whenever your kneeling stance faltered. You could see the outline of Jake, Ronal and Tonowari from your place on the ship and the way your father's eyes drifted from you and your siblings to his weapon. Was he really considering letting himself get captured for you?

Whatever Jake was thinking was passing fast. He had no plan and you knew it. The simple look of despair on Tonowari's face told you everything. You knew not to scream out because the Avatar had warned you when your brother tried.

"One noise and I'll shoot ya', kid."

Kid. You were just a kid. Your brother and sister were just kids. And Jake stared at you like it would be the last time he'd ever do. It was ironic, really. You came to Awa'atlu seeking uturu and had to end up murdering the entirety of its residents.

Jake felt the cold breeze against his damp skin, the breathlessness of Ronal on his right. His children are about to die. You, their big sister, dying to protect them. His babygirl. The one that lit up his life when he felt he was no Olo'eyktan, no Toruk Makto.

Right. Toruk Makto. Jake is Toruk Makto. The sixth rider of Last Shadow, the one who brought the clans victory against the Sky People. He killed Quaritch once. Can he really do it twice?

It's strange to think about it now, but in this situation he wishes he was more of a father and less of a marine. Lo'ak would never forgive him. The way he treated his children like soldiers... The pain he brought upon Neytiri and the people.

Quaritch's voice brings him back.

"Clock's ticking, colonel. What's it gonna be?"

The hand that rested on his gun lowered and Jake instructed his tsurak to swim forward slowly. He doesn't want to die, but he was ready to give his life up for you.

Quaritch did too.

Payakan thought otherwise. The large beast had felt Lo'ak's anger throughout their bond. Payakan had forgotten all about friendship, but Lo'ak had brought him a sense of serenity he had just about never felt before. Seeing red as he threw itself onto the ship, Jake saw the opportunity.

should I do a part two? seems opportunistic tbh

[starillusion13]

Hi! are u still accepting requests?

i love your badboy wooyoung fic <3, by any chance could you write a Mingi x reader? where they're both dance teachers at summer camp and every one teases them but kinda enemies to lovers thats the main idea, you can add anything u want <3, but i i'm tired of the shy innocent reader i want tension >:(

I’m in love…

Pairing: dance teacher! Mingi x dance teacher! reader (ft. Heesung my love)

Genre: Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, summer camp au

W.C: 4.8k

Warnings: nothing major, just a story of two person oblivion to each other’s feelings and falling in love after a dance.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: Thanks for reading and reblogging. I appreciate all of your reviews and feel free to text me if you want. Spread love to others, not hate. ngl but my next fic in queue was again angst but I am posting this on @mymoodwriting her suggestion and as I love my bestie too much so I have posted this first.

.

“Cheers for the winning team ‘Blockbusters’!”

The winner team cheered with the trophy in their leader’s hand and their dance teacher smiling widely with the students surrounding you in a cheering circle. All filling you with thankful and funny words making your smile wider. Afterall, the win they got was only because of you. You were the one who worked hard for the ideas and choreographies to be on the point so that your students could win the competition and then there was the result of the first week dance competition of your team being the winner.

Your youngest student hugged your side and some awed at you as if you were his older sister. You patted his head and urged everyone else to have their snacks provided at the counter as they already were so tired and hungry. The youngest one ran fast with his friend and you laughed looking at them all cheering and joking in their way towards the food counter.

The leader had already handed you the trophy and you stared at it in your hold. Their every achievement always felt like your own and it really feels good every time. Your dream to become a dance trainer at a big training company was slowly being achieved step by step. Small steps from these summer camps to state challenges and then country recognition and then one day, you will be a part of the dance trainer crew of your dream company.

You smiled to yourself and shook your head to dismiss the thoughts. Placing the trophy on the table as you turned around, only to come face to face with the man with folded hands above his buff chest, sleeves of white shirt folded till elbow and a denim bottom and striking the appearance with a black sunglass.

Always extra…but always perfect.

“Aren’t you too happy just for a win in a summer camp competition?” he asked you and walked towards you.

You glanced towards the cafeteria and smiled, “of course, every small thing matters to me. It’s not like if I want to do something big, it can possibly be achieved out of nowhere.”

He scoffed, “it was just a little competition. You haven’t won the state or country ones. Just among the few schools who gathered in this camp.”

“if it’s really nothing then why are you so pissed, Mingi. Work harder. Maybe next time, you gotta smiling in my position.” You smirked in the end.

He swiftly moved the sunglass from the eyes to place it on the head, revealing his droopy eyes and his intimidating aura shining under the fading sunlight. However, he pisses you off every time but still he is always the most handsome dance teacher among the five schools. No wait, Heesung is there too but that one is a one bid flirty player and you can’t act like Ms. Sana who would give a blind eye to his flirty talks and still appreciating his visual and dance moves. Mingi and Heesung’s group always comes the finale ones to compete against each other but this time, your group beat the second group and was the one to compete with Mingi’s.

“Don’t be proud so much. I will surely win next time.” he stated and inserted his thumbs inside the jean’s pockets on both the side. His every moment was being getting noticed by you.

“Let’s see.” You winked at him before turning back to pick up the water bottle. Before you could even get a slight tip of it, someone took the bottle and held it up. You rolled your eyes before going for another but he did the same thing again. You glared and turned to your side.

“What’s your problem?” you exhaled and licked your lips.

“what’s with that attitude, y/n? You know I’m already a part of training agency so as well as Heesung so don’t even think yourself greater than either of us.” His droopy eyes piercing down on you.

You crossed your hands above your chest and huffed in annoyance. You looked over in a distant place, keeping your gaze away from him. He was almost towering over you. You could feel his perfume directly and he was close enough than other times. But to your oblivion, his gaze was fixed on you, eyes scanning every little texture of your face. The tiny details of your make-up less features. Sweats lining your face and he felt an urge to wipe them off. He placed one bottle on the table to his side and offered the other one to you.

“drink it. You’re sweating and maybe thirsty.” He said in a monotonous way.

You squinted your eyes to judge his intention to which he just rolled his eyes, “are you somehow being a kind one, now? It’s very unusual of you.”

“Look y/n. don’t always get on my nerves. I was offering you this because you look like you can fall unconscious of exhaustion anytime. I don’t want to carry this weak body to the infirmary.” He almost rapped the words.

A frown appeared on your face, “weak? Me? Excuse me! but don’t think of me like Sana. I’m not that porcelain doll to break with a little push.” You snatched the bottle from his grip.

“then are you a dancing doll, y/n?” he laughed and smirked.

You hissed, “Mingi…”

“At this point, I must believe you both just find a reason to argue so that you can meet with each other. I am not surprised that I could find you guys here when everyone else is inside the main building.” Heesung’s voice coming from the way leading from the ground for physical activities. He was having a cheerful and flirty glint in his eyes.

He popped a chips inside his mouth and offered you one. You raised your hand to take it but the piece got taken away by Mingi and Heesung laughed loudly. You forcedly opened the sealed cap of the bottle and glared at both of them before gulping down the bottle, almost choking on it. The grip on the bottle was too tight, the victim of your anger.

“look, tell your friend Mingi not to piss me off everytime he sees me alone anywhere.” you said and started collecting your belongings from the table.

“my friend? Aren’t both of you friend as well?” Heesung asked and chuckled.

“Never!” “What?”

“oh Geez! Calm down. Don’t shout like teenagers. You both really hate each other. Anyways, y/n congratulations for the win. The dance moves and the centre choice were really nice. Your brain is sexy.”

Mingi scoffed and giving him a side eye, you replied to Heesung with a smile, “Thank you so much, Heesung. I’m glad you pointed out the main changes this year unlike someone who couldn’t even utter a simple congratulations to someone. Always a competitive one.”

“come on, Mingi. Kiss her and tell her that you really did love her dance moves. “

“yeah! It will be so nice to see a new couple in this camp.” Sana’s soft and cheerful voice neared you all. You looked over to her direction. She was already staring at Heesung who was glancing in her way. She pout and you shook your head in disbelief.

Them. not only them but other teachers present in the camp, even some older students urge you both every day to get together because according to them,

‘the people who fight on silly things are the real couples.’

How you despise this thought!

you grabbed your things and left the scenario with their eyes following your way. Heesung and Sana laughed but Mingi’s expression was serious, watching your figure intently getting away from the spot. He stepped forward when the other one stopped him and asked him to go with him towards the ground. He glanced towards your way but nodded to him and walked away.

He might be the one pissed you today but generally that was not his intention.

.

.

.

Usually, the camps last for eight weeks for your school and same goes for the other schools present there as well but this time, it would be more than just eight weeks and you had to meet him more than usual. You groaned at the thought before plopping on the bed. The dance competition held was in the first week of the camp and there would be many other activities and competitions everyday and even if there’s respective teachers but you can’t just be free from any schedules as you need to be the assistant in some activities.

Every year after you joined this school, you always looked forward to this summer camps because in your childhood, you loved spending your days in summer camp and after joining this school as dance teacher, you got the chance to relive your childhood days again.

But the second year, you came across this particular person while you were cheering for few students who were competing with each other in a particular water activity. Someone stood beside you and boring hole onto your side, you previously brushed off the weird feeling but then when you looked at the person, you caught him staring at you. You furrowed your eyebrows and scanned his face because you never saw him earlier during any other activities and there was no new school or maybe you had forgot the person. Afterall, you were new and still learning many things. You licked your lips and tugged your hairs behind your ear, before sending him a small smile.

“Are you new here?” his voice was heavy and his look was so intimidating that you felt so small in front of him but you stood strong on your spot.

You nodded and replied, “yeah…I joined last year. And you?” you raised your hand for a shake but well he just stared at it. You waited for few seconds but when he didn’t raise his hand, you curled your fingers and retreated your hand by your side, suppressing your annoyance in the fist.

“are you the new dance teacher?” he asked again.

“yes. And you are?” you asked in an unsure tone, didn’t actually feel like he would reply you but surprisingly he did.

“I am the dance teacher from St. Joseph’s ‘Sparkling’ Team. Myself, Mingi.”

Oh great. So this man is a dance teacher like you. Well, his physique and appearance really did give off an idol image and you wont be surprise if he is secretly an idol or a trainee.

 You nodded, “y/n, from St. Mary’s ‘Blockbuster’ Team.”

And that’s it. There was an awkward silence between you both followed by the cheers of the students who were splashing water in the enjoyment of their win.

You smiled towards them and clapped your hands, similarly Mingi smiled a bit too but he was staring at you.

.

.

.

The first meeting was usually a friendly one, maybe a not-so-friendly one but you were pretty much sure that the following events occurred after the meet was not in your checklist.

With passing of days, you noticed him more. He was a secretive person and even though he wanted something or wanted to express something, he would rather stay neutral in his expression but will encourage his students with warm and comforting words. Of course, him being the teacher of the opponent team sparked a curiosity inside you to know him better. Oh girl! How wrong you were that it was only you! But something similar thoughts came across his mind as well. Oblivion to each other, both of you started to get to know each other.

Starting from asking your colleagues or the close ones in the camps about each other then staring too long than usual and getting caught by each other. Bumping into each other and him blaming you for crossing his path. Well, it was all pretty much okay until you started noticing him around you more. And, people be enjoying such dramas a lot. They even started teasing you that both of you were attracted to each other but oblivion to your feelings.

“what are you doing here?” he asked you and with the tip of his boot, he played with a stone.

“I didn’t know you don’t have eyes to see. Maybe, you don’t have a brain to understand it.” You stifled your laugh and turned around with the mat in your hand.

He picked up the stone and threw in your direction. It hit your calve but it was too small to actually hit you painfully, but when you turned around to glare at him, irritated with his obvious daily mischievous acts, you found him smirking at you.

“I have my eyes on useful things not on these useless stuffs.”

“and, that is?” you raised a brow.

“why will I answer your questions, dancing doll?”

Dancing doll. Gosh, you hate this name the most. Yeah, your friends and colleagues sometimes love to call each other with few nicknames but his nickname, oh wait no no that’s not a nickname. He was literally mocking at you.

“I will turn you into a doll if you don’t stop calling me that name.” you glared and bumped his side before leaving him there.

He smiled to your act and whispered, “my eyes are always on you, doll.”

Whenever you both got to hear those teasing, your first move was to glare at him only to get a bored look from him. But are you really angry or just pretending to be?

Your pretending is not accurate then.

Same thing repeated in every summer. At this point, you were sure to throw him into water if next time, he irritates you again. You previously thought that meeting him was only limited to summer camps. But never expected out of nowhere, he will be in a common friend’s group. Yunho and Wooyoung both were your friends from the dance training club and when Mingi got to know that you are friends with his childhood friends, oh he got a damn excuse to meet you every weekend whenever you all made plans.

You were being caught staring at him a lot. Yunho even once tried to convince you to date his best friend because you were the right one for him and you threatened him that if he ever tried to convince you again then you will beat his ass. Or your usual sentence.

“Yunho, if you are so worried then bestfriends should help each other. Go and marry him.”

But actually deep down, you were freaking out with the thought of you and him together. You were sure on one thing that you did have a crush on him. Maybe not a huge one but almost like that. What about him though?

Oh about him? he might can kidnap you any day to keep you for himself. The way he glares at Heesung whenever he tries to flirt with you or tease you with sweet talks. The intrusive thoughts coming to his minds are dangerous but what can he even do? You are never his. But soon he will make it possible, not maybe apply those thoughts but to make you his.

.

.

.

Next dance competition was in the end of the month and you had already taught them some of it but still some more practices were needed. Meanwhile, the students had some other stuffs to keep them engaged as well, like water activities, group projects, social activities and so on. Your love for water activities led you to have some fun with them as well. You were enjoying with the students in the pool activities when someone splashed into the water. You shielded your eyes with one hand and watched the person. And it reminded you of the first day, you met him.

“wow! The dive was so cool.” A student beside you cheered.

When the person raised his head from the water surface and pushed back his wet hairs. Oh you were losing yourself with the view. His white shirt with top three buttons undone and the water making it teasingly see through and sticking to his tanned skin with the broad chest view. The whistle sound made every student to run out of water and the sudden push made you slip your leg and there was nothing to hold to make you still but to your relief, you didn’t fall. A strong hand around your waist, pulling your side to his front.

“are you okay?”

You nodded and tried to push him away but he pulled you closer with your back pressed to the marble edges of the pool with him too close to your front.

“why are you running away?” he asked you slowly and brushed your hairs out of your face. His every touch hitching your breath and you caught his wrist when it stopped on your cheek.

“why are you doing this?” you asked him in return,

He chuckled, “doing what? Tell me you are not liking this.”

“and if I tell you no, then will your ego be hurt?” you raised a brow.

He smirked, “my ego won’t be hurt because no is not coming out of your pretty lips. It’s either stupid things or fake threats.”

“I swear, Mingi.”

He laughed at your response. But your moment soon got interrupted by Heesung.

“look, I should feel jealous of you to get her like this but as I’m already being aware of your relationship so I will let you have your fun but atleast come out of the water and go to your room. Children might see these unholy things.”

Mingi helped you out of the water and laughed. Why is he suddenly laughing? There was nothing to laugh about his speech.

“look, Heesung. Stop day dreaming about your online stories every time. There is no relationship between us.” You said and glared at them. Heesung snickered and suddenly got a call, before walking away he winked at you. You raised a fist towards him and he shook his head before turning back.

“go and get changed.” You turned your face when you felt his voice too close. He was close, towering over you with his big frame, shielding you from the direct sunlight. You stepped backward and he placed his palm on your lower back and pulled you. You could almost hear your heartbeat in your ears and before you could react to it, his cold lips touched your warm forehead. His slow breaths sent a chill shiver from top of your head to your toe, curling them tightly. His lips murmured to your skin, “I don’t want the dancing doll to fall sick.”

 He quickly stepped back and walked away to the ground, leaving you standing there too stunned to even move. You hugged yourself with your towel and went towards your room.

WHY DID HE KISS YOU?

It was already late for your arrival because you were practicing the steps to students on repeat and soon, you all were sitting around the fireplace. That was a free time for everyone and each one was having fun with some jokes or showing off their individual talents. You were so indulged in your thoughts about the afternoon kiss that you didn’t notice someone sat beside you and staring at your side.

He pinched your cheek and pulled you out of your thoughts. Rubbing the stinging area, you looked at him with a frown, “what?”

“Let’s dance.”

“are you serious right now?”

“more than you.”

You chuckled and shook your head, “why? Do you want to show others that even if your team lost last week but you are still the best dancer?”

“maybe something else.”

He replied you too fast and your heart beat increasing with each of his words. The more you were staring at him, the more intense the effect of the kiss was tingling on your forehead. His eyes were hiding a desire, a passion behind those dark orbs, his hooded eyes curtaining away the feelings for you just for a while. Heesung’s voice broke your eye contact with him. Mingi was craving to see your shining eyes looking back at him. He was feeling loved just by your eyes on him.

You swear you would make Heesung mute one day.

“Well Attention everyone. Why don’t we have something interesting?”

Everyone cheered to his announcement. You rolled your eyes already knowing some stupid words coming out of his mouth.

That man be really playing the cupid everytime.

“Let’s welcome our two best dancers Miss Y/N and Dancing king Mingi. Cheers everyone.” He clapped his hand and welcomed you both to the middle. You parted your lips to protest only to see an extended hand in front of you, your eyes followed the hand to his face.

“Mingi…”

“Come on, dancing doll.”

You hesitatingly grabbed his hand and stood up and went to the centre. You were never shy in public but today somehow every stare was making you anxious. Your grip tightened in his hold and his thumb caressed over your palm.

“let’s begin…”

Inception started playing and he was standing to your side but he was facing back to the crowd and you in front. He placed one hand above your chest, hovering over the collar bones and slowly whispered with the song, “I’m in love….” His eyes were on you.

Your wide eyes stared back at him in shock but still managed to change your position to the next step. Now you both were in exact opposite posture. You mouthed the lyrics, “I’m in love…” and looked towards him. He smiled in return. He quickly sat on one of his on the ground and you sat on the raised knee for mimicking the exact steps from the choreography. You swiftly moved to the side and he raised his hand in air and stood up and bringing it back to brush the fingers against his jaw and your breath hitched with the next step. As soon as you both faced each other, his fingers softly leaving feather touches on your cheek before retreating away.

The dance continued with you both doing the exact dance moves from the choreography but in each chorus, you were sure you lip synced the line, ‘I’m in love…’ but he lightly sang the part, ‘I’m gonna chase you..’

In the end when you both ended the dance with staring at each other. Everybody cheered for the strong and clean dance moves. Every one was sure that day that you both are the dancing king and queen of the camp.

But you both were sure with your feelings.

That you both were in love.

.

.

.

“wait, I need to talk to you.” Mingi grabbed your wrist and you were surprised with his sudden move. After the duet dance last week, you ignored him as much as you could but being in the same building it was not much possible and also, when a cupid is roaming around you.

“What?” you glanced at your watch. It was already past ten o’clock and you were heading towards your room.

A group of three teachers laughing and heading towards your direction made him quickly pull you towards the corner and pushed himself along with you inside the room. He signalled you to keep quiet and as soon as the group passed by the door. He sighed in relief.

“was that pull really necessary?”

“No. but to get away from their eyes was.”

“where are we? Whose room is this?” you looked around and was panicking how you entered a stranger’s room until he walked towards the edge of the bed and sat down.

“this is my room. Welcome to my room, dancing doll.”

“Can you please stop calling me that?”

“Maybe…yes…no. Never.”

You folded your hands in front and glared at him, “and can I know why are we here?”

He didn’t reply but ducked his head down and fiddling with his fingers. You waited for him to say something but nothing. He was acting as if you were not even standing just in front of him.

“If you don’t have anything to say, then I’m leaving.” You said and turned back. But his next words made you halted in your steps.

“I’m in love…with you, y/n.”

Did he just confess? You didn’t turn around because even if you wanted to give some savage reply to him, you felt yourself on the verge of lose of words. Nothing came across your mind to reject his confession. Your mind didn’t even think twice to realise if he was joking or teasing you or testing your reaction to it. You gulped and clenched your sweaty palm.

It was because you were in love with him too.

Someone engulfed you in a back hug and you leaned to the touch. You held his hand in front and closed your eyes. You didn’t know how to react, what to say, what to believe and what to feel. But somewhere you felt happy. Happy because the person you love has confessed his love for you.

He inhaled the scent of your shampoo and whispered into your hair, “please say something. Please talk to me, y/n.”

“what do you want to hear?” you said in a low and slow voice.

“anything. Whatever you want to say but please don’t be silent. I want to hear you.”

You gripped his wrist tighter, “Mingi…”

“hmmm” he closed his eyes, his nose intoxicated with your scent and natural smell and your presence in his hold making his heart beat faster than usual and lips murmuring something into your hairs which you couldn’t even decipher.

“I love you, Mingi.”

The words he wanted to listen and he got to listen. He swiftly turned you around and smiled down at you. You never saw him smiling genuinely at you. Well, maybe he smiled like this before but you didn’t notice before. You didn’t think of it like this, the way you were getting lost into the smile.

“Do you really love me?”

You whispered, “more than you can even think of.”

“I love you, Y/n. you cant even imagine how badly I want to have this moment with you. I didn’t even realise this until the dance that day that I was madly in love with you for last two years. It was all about my love for you.”

He kissed your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your forehead and stared at your lips. You nodded but still he hesitated. You placed your hands around his neck and pulled him into the most awaited kiss, raising yourself on your toe to match his level. The kiss of initiating a bond, the blooming of a young love. The lips danced with the swift rhythm matching with each other, the way your body moved accordingly and blending with each other’s move to the song. There was a passionate love in the kiss, like the way you both had passion for dance.

Slowly retreating from the kiss, your heels touched the ground. He again softly pecked on your lips, surprising you. He was drunk with your kiss. You smiled at him, he cupped your cheeks in his warm hands, your fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Mingi…I didn’t realise my love before that dance as well. Maybe the dance and the song has awakened the feelings inside us.”

“we both have a passion for dance and dance only made us realise our inner thoughts. You don’t know but I am so happy right now that I finally get to call you mine.”

“who said you can call me yours?”

“I said and that’s final. also y/n…congratulations.”

“ for what?” you asked in surprise.

“for the win. It was your first step to join your dream company and I promise you, I will make it happen for you.”

“We will make it happen. Together.” You smiled and he nodded and bend down to peck you again.

You slowly removed his hand from your cheeks and took out your phone to click open your playlist.

“what are you doing?”

You didn’t reply and played a song ‘white love’.

The room filled with the intro of the song and swinging your hands, you knelt down in front of him, “will you have a dance with me, my dancing king?”

“of course, my dancing doll.”

“you were supposed to say queen not that stupid doll.”you whined.

“well you are a doll. My dancing doll.” He grabbed your waist and you both laughed with your bodies swaying with the flow of the music.

Afterall it was both of your dream, every day and every night to be in love with each other.

[Thanks for loving the Wooyoung fic...I hope you liked this one.]

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn [open!]

[crazykitsch]

Heyyy can you please write Hector x Reader were reader is a team mates little sister and her and Hector hate each other but then he gets a little hurt (like in the match against athletic club. He doesn’t get injured just a little hurt.) and then she’s all worried about him and then they confess their feelings to each other??

Hector Fort: playing with fire

pairing: hector fort x reader

warnings: none

❝My mom told me everyday to be careful of men. Because love is like playing with fire, it can get you hurt. My mom might be right, because when I see you my heart burns.❞

I’m sitting here alone and bored while my brother Joao Felix is training with the rest of the team. I’m assuming they’re done now since I see Joao, Lamine, Hector and Marc walk over. ‘Hi y/n.’ my brother says and I smile at him. I see Hector standing next to me and my smile fades.

‘No need for you to be so bratty about it.’ He says and I roll my eyes. He’s.. quite attractive- but then again so annoying. I don’t get how one person can always get on my nerves.

‘Roll your eyes further, hope they get stuck.’ He says and Marc says ‘If you want to see her roll her eyes you might need to do it in a less public place.’ Before I can even say anything I hear Joao say ‘Okay, this is our queue to go.. let’s go Y/n.’ and he walks away so I follow him.

We arrived at our families house and I sit on the couch. ‘You two would be cute together, you know.’ Joao jokingly says. I roll my eyes and say ‘You would look very cute in a casket, you know.’ and I can hear him laugh.

‘Are you still coming to the match tonight?’ Joao asks me and I nod yes. Whenever they have a home game I come with him to support him. We really like to annoy eachother but we’re also very supportive of eachother.

big time skip

It’s now saturday night, match time. The match started 1 minute ago and Guruzeta scored..

About 25 minutes later Lewandowski luckily scored and 10 minutes later Lamine scored!

Just when i’m having faith in today’s match I see Sancet scoring in the 49th minute making it 2-2.

5 minutes later I see Hector with the ball and Williams running towards him. Williams lightly tackels Hector but I can still see he’s a bit hurt. I feel a sense of worry grow inside of me. I know i’m supposed to hate him.. but I can’t help but like him.

Now its the end of the match, Barcelona lost 4-2.

I finally see Joao and the rest but I can’t help but walk towards Hector as I see he’s still a little hurt. ‘Are you okay? Did it hurt a lot? Are you still hurt?’ I say worriedly. He looks at me, smiles and says ‘Are you worried about me?’. I roll my eyes and say ‘Just answer my question.’

‘Im fine, don’t worry about it. Why do you care though?’ He says. I don’t know what to say so as usual, I just decide to roll my eyes. After we did that I accidentally make eye contact. I expected him to look away yet he didn’t.

We kept holding eye contact and there grew a certain tension. ‘Y/n? Why were you worried.’ he asks me and I can feel myself getting stressed. ‘I… ehm. Well I guess I sort of- maybe- have like.. well I think you are a tiny bit sweet and attractive.’ I accidentally say. I need to learn how to think before I act.

He smiles and says ‘Think? Or know? Because if you know then I might have to say something to you.’ i’m a bit confused now, so I say ‘Then tell me what it is.’ He replies ‘I think you are sweet and attractive too.’ Okay now im reaally confused.. but also a bit happy I guess? I can’t help but smile at his words and then I hear him say ‘Would you like to maybe go on a date with me?’ okay now my smile grew a bit bigger and I say ‘Yes.’ to him!

I can see Joao walking over to us and he says ‘What happened? Thought you two hated eachother.’ Now me and Hector look at eachother and smile.

A/n: William Shakespeare would be so upset if he read this..

[freedcmscall]

A deep sigh of relief escapes Anders' lips at the first stirring of Lucian. He's done enough. Not truly enough, nowhere near it, he can tell the man is still injured, but he's done enough to drag him back from the edge of the Fade, to keep him living, breathing, fighting another day. Sufficient, then, if not truly enough. He has to fight the urge to grab Lucian's hand in relief.

Instead, the need to move is redirected to gesturing about the scene before the both of them. As if to silently say 'see for yourself on the status.' A warm smile decorates Anders' lips and for a moment he's forgotten about what he had to do to save their fearless leader. For a moment it doesn't matter.

"Lucian," he echoes, just needing to hear that name on his tongue again, grateful to the Maker to have been granted the chance to hear his own in Lucian's voice once again. "Everyone's fine. And… everyone is dead. Our side, and theirs, in that order. Lucky you've got me as a healer. You, though, ah… you almost weren't. Fine, that is." He swallows thickly, shoving down the emotions so intertwined with the fact that he'd almost lost Lucian for another day. "Don't think anyone's checked their pockets yet, though." Not so much a topic change as a continuation of the actual relevant information Lucian requested.

Still needing to move, so much energy pent up from what he'd just had to go through, Anders makes to stand from where he had been crouched beside Lucian's prone form. His knees protest, but of course they do, they always did. The leather armband lies discarded beside his feet, entirely forgotten by now. Anders sighs and brushes some dirt off of his trousers and coat, pulling a bit of a face. He has to take a moment and shut his eyes tightly, taking a steadying breath so as not to stumble. If he could see himself, he'd be able to tell that his face is still paler than normal, perhaps a side effect of the stress, or perhaps the blood magic. No matter, now.

"How are you feeling? Relatively, of course."

the path of the blood mage is as corrupt as the path of the templar — for every single practitioner with good intentions, with a true desire for purity, there is a thousand others to taint the entire order into condemnation. but this bloody path is looked upon with suspicion and wariness, everyone looking for one false step. for the practice is only spoken in context of demons, of slavery, of unquenchable desires for power with which to overturn the world. it is a cautionary tale, the fault of foolish deeds that litter across every history book in thedas. they are feared, and for good reason. and lucian is abundantly aware.

he keeps his craft as his own, never influencing the party. never a mention of thirst for power, never an ounce of blood stolen from a teammate, never a moment of panic to flash across his face in a tight moment. it’s a tight rope dance, tiptoeing around each conception of his kin, to prove that he is different. he is no fool. he, alone. no evidence to suggest that his companions are his own body bags of health to use and discard ( the implication causes his skin to itch when he thinks of it ). his goals are clear: none of his friends companions will give themselves for him. let no one bring harm to themselves for his choices.

a concept, he knows, which grated their poor, unlucky healer. to tell a healer not to heal? especially one who would give the shirt on his back to the neediest one who asks? it was, he supposes, a fool’s errand.

the first sensation is the taste of blood on his tongue. more than usual. a blissful nothing for a moment, and then an onslaught of pain, and the knowledge of his position on the filthy darktown floor. in a pool of blood, and his own this time. the return of life causes him to cough, pushing his torso up by an arm. a quick assessment of his own damage brings attention to his hazy brain of the extent of his injury. severe. fuck. his fingers spread instinctively into the sullied dirt, and the blood appears to pull itself cleanly from the sand and into an open wound on his palm. it forces a shake through his body, like a choked man suddenly breathing air, as life rapidly finds its way back into his limbs.

“ anders — ,” comes a sharp, slurred gasp as lucian orients himself, looking about the environment. he clocks each companion, each dead body, then each possible exit. all clear, all quiet, all safe. the knowledge visibly unclenches his jaw, drawing the mage from survival mode. he gathers control of his expression to look back at the healer, still gasping for his breath. “ s — status report, now. ”