#(also do not reply to this until you're back from adventures!)

[theauthorlives]

@starsadored liked the starter call!

-

Yancy had been finishing up his shift mopping the floors when he was approached by the Warden. Ordinarily, that was never a good sign. In the moments leading up to the Warden opening his mouth, Yancy's mind ran at a hundred miles an hour as he frantically tried to think about what could have possibly landed him in trouble, but there was nothing. How could there be? He was keeping out of trouble! He was trying to get to things on time! He had even walked away instead of throwing fists on two separate occasions. Two!

Firm hands slapped his shoulders, and Yancy had to suppress a wince.

"Congratulations, Yancy! You've been picked!"

The greaser's panic dissolved into confusion. "F-for what?"

"For the nationwide penpal project! Happy Trails and a buncha other incarceration facilities have teamed up with schools right around th' country to encourage kids of all ages to get back into writing! An' you've been chosen as one of the participants!"

"Warden? Not to sound ungrateful or nothing, but I, uh, my reading an' writing's pretty shitty."

"Both of which are skills you'll need once you start looking into your future, son. Now," another slap on the shoulders annunciated this, "Off ya go back to th' cell. A letter writin' kit and the details of who you're writing to are all there waiting for ya."

Yancy sighed. There was no point trying to argue with the Warden once he had an idea to set in motion. A letter would have to be written.

-

to Cassie, i was told you is going to be my penpal for some sort of writing thing.

Yeesh. Already, Yancy felt awkward writing this. At least he could keep it short-ish. The letter would be checked by prison officials to make sure everything was above board, given the intended recipient, and all he could do was hope none of them would make comments on this later.

my names yancy. im an inmate in happy trails pennete pennyte prison down in texas. pretty far from illinois, right? whats it like there? i was from ohio but i had never been out of the state til i came here. texas aint worth the hype. its really hot. where we are is a place that dont get a lot of wind so you have to hope the shade wont be too hot neither.

Yancy paused, squinting at the information sheet left with the writing pack. There was a section provided for suggested topics to ask about. It might be a good way to finish the letter.

do you got a favorite subject? i liked music. dont feel you gotta write back straight away or nothing. its ok if you is busy. yancy.

Once the letter was sealed and addressed, he put it in the designated posting area. Who knows? Maybe the kid would think all this was a ridiculous concept and would never write back. That would be great!

[amara-scott]

Paired for trouble.

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: When you are partnered with Mattheo for a Care of Magical Creatures assignment, you're convinced the universe is punishing you. He’s smug, reckless, and so infuriatingly attractive it makes you want to scream. But when your bickering gets you lost in the Forbidden Forest, survival takes precedence—until you realize you're not just fighting magical creatures, but the growing spark between you.

“You’re glaring again, Ravenclaw,” he says as you tried to swat a stubborn bug off your shoulder. “I’m imagining how to hex you,” you replied sweetly.

The chuckle followed made your glare all the more sharply. The forest adventure turned into an odd hunt for the right path quite quickly, you would have never thought to get lost here- not to mention with Mattheo Riddle. Infuriating is the most fitting word you would use to describe that boy.

"Did your Ravenclaw witts already figured out how to navigate us out?" His playful tone was laced with a tint of seriousness and you rolled your eyes, still walking ahead and not looking back, "Me? What about you? Aren't you the one who wanted to leave the path in the first place? Go find it again."

He didn't reply, the groan forming in your throat had no time coming out as you heard rustling from behind you. Stopping dead in your tracks you felt your heart hammering, turning slowly.

Your clammy hand grasping the wand you held in your hand the hole time, only tighter this time. Eyes wide open to not miss a single thing.

"Riddle!" He wasn't behind you, nor anywhere near you. No reply. Just dead silence. A few droplets hit your head, wetting your crown of hair, "Shit.." you curse, briefly glancing up and noticing the thick grey clouds closing in above you.

Another twig snaps, your eyes back on the bushes in front of you, "M- Mattheo?"

Nothing.

A few ravens made you almost shriek as they left their spots in a tree nearby, croaking to announce their departure. You suck in air, almost stumbling back.

"Boo!"

Hands wrap around your upper arms from behind, your body cringing and eyes squeezed shut. Then he laughs. That laugh. That boy!

In one swift motion you spin around, holding your wand against his neck and gritting your teeth, "having fun?" He still grins while tilting his head up slightly, your wand pushing deeper into his skin.

"Lots of it. You should try it sometime." He steps back, cutting you off as you open your mouth, ready to fling curses left and right.

"Come on now, I think I found a path." You don't believe your eyes as he casually walks off, as if nothing happened. Scaring you half to death, in the forbidden forest. And to imagine you almost– almost– were worried for him a minute ago. Almost.

—

The path turned out to really be one. Surprisingly so. Which you were glad about but also annoyed by. He wouldn't let you live it down that he was the one who found the path and brought you back to school.

Shaking your head you notice the light slowly fading through the crowns of the trees, the leaves rustling with the wind as more rain came down. Luckily you knew the Impervius Charm. Usually that's seventh year stuff but you always had a knack for Charms, Profesor Flitwick praising you almost every lesson. Much to the annoyance of the boy who was walking merely a few feet before you now. In pure silence for the last couple minutes.

"Great path you found. When will we be back? It's getting cold. And dark."

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious, sunshine. Be grateful I even found a path in the first place, without me–"

"–without you, I wouldn't even be in this mess!" He throws his head back dramatically, slowing to a stop, and turns to me.

"Do you ever shut up?" Your jaw almost drops at his remark, teasing another grin from him, apparently happy with your reaction.

"Excuse you, it was your fault we ended up–" His eyes left yours and drifted over your shoulder, to the side. He then takes off, running away, "hey! Where are you going?" You yelled and turned, looking after him. A light flickering in the distance. With your eyes squinted, you follow him quickly, not wanting to stand alone any second longer.

"Mattheo, wait!" Your muddy boots carry you through the mushy leaves, your robe now wet from the branches swiping across the fabric as you push through to not loose him in the forest.

"Matt-" You stop dead in your tracks as you almost collide with his back, placing your hands on his shoulders to stop the impact.

"Thought you couldn't stand me." Even in the dim light shining from the lamp ahead you saw the huge smirk and stretched out bruise across his lips. You huff and step back, thankful for the lack of sunlight.

"No witty comeback? Have I finally caught you off guard?" You shive his shoulder and step past him, an abandoned, crumbling hut coming into view, the lamp light flickering and dancing on the wooden panels.

"I guess we'll need to find shelter here before it really starts pouring."

With a gulp you glance at Mattheo, his posture also hesitant as you look back at the hut.

—

"Don’t get comfortable. This is just a pit stop."

Mattheo settles into a dusty corner with an exaggerated sigh, "I’m already comfortable. You? You look like you’re ready to murder me in my sleep."

You glance around and pick up a quilt, tossing it at his head. "If I wanted to murder you, Riddle, you wouldn’t have made it to the hut." He grinned then, as he pulled the blanket off his face, "So you’re saying I should be flattered? I think you just admitted you like me."

"The night is not over yet." He laughed at your attempt of a threat and you sigh, rolling your eyes and grabbing another blanket you found, no pillows, but at least some blankets. Mattheo got to work on a small fire in the fire place, Cracking the legs off a chair, you can't help watching him, flexing his muscles, his robe long discarded, claiming he's "way too warm". Boys.

"You know- for someone who claims to hate me, you stare an odd much." You've been caught red handed, diverting your eyes before his find yours and gulp, pulling the blanket a bit higher.

"Rubbish." You mumbled, his stare just as intense as he throws the last leg and back of the chair into the fire.

"Whatever you say. Don't come crawling to me in the middle of the night though, I'm not a hugger."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Riddle."

"Sure, night, sunshine."

"Night."

The cracking of the fire soothed you, the surrounding rest– not so much. Knowing you were in the forbidden forest, a storm brewing outside and the windows creaking with every gust of wind– not a good feeling. You couldn't believe he wasn't affected at least a bit by everything. He was just better at masking it. Right?

After running your mind through every terrible and possible outcome of the night, you finally grew tired enough to close your eyes for more than a few seconds.

—

"CRACK!"

You almost jolt up form the ground, the sound came from outside. You shuffle around, your tired eyes searching for your wand and as you grab it, you try to make out Mattheo across the room. He fell asleep sitting by the wall, leaving you the floor before the fire place. His shivering form still fast asleep. Great. What if there's an Acromantula outside? Or a- werewolf? Gosh, you couldn't think of that now, you needed to wake Mattheo.

"Hey." You whispered, trying to be as loud as you possibly could. But he didn't even flinch. Groaning internally you glanced up at the window, nothing seemed to be there. So you carefully crawled across the floor, the wood now cold, the fire place out long ago.

As you reach his form you lift a hand, debating wether to shake him or gently tap him- but what if this was an emergency? You resorted to tapping his shoulder. A bit more forcefully. "Mattheo–"

Your whisper was interrupted as he jolts awake, grabbing your wrist and pinning you to the floor in one fluid motion. You shriek and look up at him as he hovers above you, hand still tightly holding onto your wrist and his wand in the other.

"Are you crazy?" He mumbles, his voice tense and eyes now finally fully awake. His stare mimicked mine as he kept hovering above me.

"Sorry– could you–" I gulp and the heat rushing to my face was luckily masked by the darkness engulfing the room. Only a streak of moonlight casting a line of light across Mattheo's face.

"Yeah–" He shuffles back, finally letting go of my wrist and sitting back in his spot, a deep sigh leaving his lips. I carefully peel myself off the ground and sit across from him. His eyes avoiding mine.

"I– I heard a noise outside–" You whisper but stop, seeing the amusement on his face, brown eyes twinkling with enjoyment, "what are you smirking at, huh?" You fold your arms, growing even more irritated with him than usually.

"You come to me for comfort because you heard– a noise?"

The wind howled like a wounded creature, shrieking through the skeletal branches of the Forbidden Forest. Rain lashed against the wooden walls of the abandoned hunting lodge, the roof groaning under the force of the storm. The fire in the corner had long since died, leaving the space cloaked in cold shadows.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, suppressing a shiver as you glared at Mattheo Riddle, who sat against the far wall, watching you with an expression that teetered between amusement and curiosity. His dark curls were still damp from the rain, stray strands falling over his forehead, and the flickering candlelight cast sharp angles across his face, highlighting the ever-present smirk that played at his lips.

“You’re taking this awfully well,” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the splintered wooden floor. “Most people would be a little more concerned about being stranded in the middle of the Forbidden Forest overnight.”

Mattheo stretched out his legs, his boot knocking against yours as if he had all the time in the world. “Concerned? No. Annoyed? Maybe. Though I have to admit, the company makes up for it.”

You scoffed. “Oh, how lucky I must feel.”

He chuckled, low and warm, but you could hear the edge in it—the glint of something unreadable behind his casual demeanor. “You really should learn to take a compliment, sunshine.”

You ignored him, shifting your focus to the warped wooden door. It rattled against the wind, the latch barely holding, and for a moment, you swore you heard something outside—something heavier than rain. You tensed, gripping the edge of your cloak, your breath catching in your throat.

Mattheo noticed. Of course he did. “Relax. Whatever’s out there won’t get in.”

You shot him a sharp look. “You sound very sure of that.”

His smirk widened, but there was something behind it this time—something unsettlingly genuine. “I am.”

Another gust of wind slammed against the door, followed by a deep, dragging sound just beyond the threshold. Your stomach twisted, fingers clenching involuntarily. You weren’t easily scared, but there was something about being surrounded by absolute darkness, with no wandlight and no way back until morning, that made your heart hammer a little too fast.

You hated that Mattheo could probably hear it.

“You’re scared,” he murmured, voice softer now, like he was enjoying the realization.

You lifted your chin. “No, I’m being rational.”

“Rational,” he repeated, as if testing the word. “Rational is knowing that the moment I opened my eyes, you were already curled into me like a frightened little thing.”

Your face burned. “I was waking you up.”

His grin was slow and dangerous, his head tilting just slightly. “Right. Of course you were.”

Before you could snap at him, another sound echoed from the woods—a crunching of twigs, a breath of movement so faint you might have imagined it. But Mattheo stiffened, barely perceptibly, and you knew he’d heard it too.

You didn’t speak. Neither did he. The moment stretched, thick with unspoken tension. Outside, the wind howled again, but beneath it, something else lurked—something that made the hairs on your arms stand on end.

Mattheo moved first. Slowly, deliberately, he reached for his wand, his expression hardening into something unfamiliar. Something dangerous.

Your pulse thrummed. “You said nothing could get in.”

“I said whatever’s out there wouldn’t.” His voice was quiet, controlled, but you could hear the shift—the edge of something real behind the usual arrogance. “There’s a difference.”

Your throat tightened. The temperature in the hut felt colder somehow, the air thicker.

He glanced at you then, and for the first time since you’d met him, there was no teasing in his eyes. Just something sharp. Something calculating.

“Stay behind me,” he said.

And for once, you didn’t argue.

The door groaned on its hinges, and then, with a deafening crack, it flew open. Rain lashed inside, drenching the floorboards as the hulking silhouette of a figure loomed in the doorway.

“Blimey—there yeh are!” Hagrid’s voice boomed through the storm, his massive frame barely squeezing through the entrance. “I been lookin’ all over fer yeh two! What in Merlin’s name d’yeh think yeh’re doin’ out ‘ere?”

Relief flooded through you so quickly your knees nearly buckled. Mattheo exhaled sharply, slipping his wand back into his robes with a muttered curse.

“Got half the staff in a right state, yeh have,” Hagrid continued, shaking his shaggy head as he stomped further inside, dripping rainwater everywhere. “Professor McGonagall’s ready ter skin yeh alive, an’ I dun even wanna think what Snape’s got planned fer detention.”

You swallowed, exchanging a glance with Mattheo. He was still smirking—of course he was—but there was something in his eyes that told you he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.

“C’mon then,” Hagrid grunted, ushering you both toward the door. “Let’s get yeh back before McGonagall hexes me fer not findin’ yeh sooner.”

The trek back to the castle was a blur of rain and muttered complaints from Hagrid about “reckless students” and “runnin’ off into the forest like a pair o’ mad hippogriffs.” But despite the cold, despite the exhaustion settling into your bones, you couldn’t shake the lingering tension between you and Mattheo—the awareness of something unspoken that still crackled in the air like static.

By the time the towering silhouette of Hogwarts came into view, golden windows glowing through the downpour, you were drenched and shivering, but oddly… you didn’t entirely mind.

The moment you stepped inside the warmth of the castle, voices exploded around you but all you could focus on was the imposing figure of Professor McGonagall at the top of the stairs, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Miss YLN, Mr. Riddle," she said crisply. "If you ever decide to take a midnight stroll into the Forbidden Forest again, do let me know so I can personally prepare the hospital wing for your arrival."

Mattheo let out a quiet chuckle beside you. "Missed you too, Professor."

Her sharp glare was enough to silence even him. But a tinge of relieve shimmered in her eyes as well.

You sighed. This was going to be a long night.

Because somehow, someway, you knew this night wasn’t something you—or Mattheo—would be forgetting anytime soon.

Harry Potter Masterlist Link

[woso-dreamzzz]

Allergies III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Lena Oberdorf x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Obi chooses your food

The first round of preseason right before a round of Euros qualifiers is a little bit annoying for your parents but to you, it doesn't matter much.

You're happy to just be around the team after the short break with your family.

It's not that you don't get along with your cousins but you've always felt a little anxious around kids your age, no matter if you're actually related to them or not.

You feel much more settled at training with a bunch of footballs to keep you occupied.

The girls are nice too.

Obi has joined from Wolfsburg and you really like Obi because she does fun things like swing you around and run around with you on her shoulders.

Momma says that's dangerous.

You think she's silly but Momma's in charge of you so you make Obi stop doing it where Momma can see.

"Princesse!" Magda calls over from her lunch table," Have you got what you wanted?"

"In a minute!" You yell back as Obi makes your plate for you.

You're letting Obi choose your meal today like she did a few time when you were at Wolfsburg together. Obi always chooses really good food like the mac and cheese a few days ago and the creamy chicken you liked so much that Magda had to go and get the recipe off the chefs because it was all you wanted to eat when you got home.

So, all in all, you trust Obi's choices even when she puts yucky salad on your plate because Momma and Morsa say you have to have something healthy.

Obi gets to the end of the line and hands you your plate before looping back around to grab her own food.

You walk carefully to the table Momma, Morsa and Georgia are already sitting at.

Georgia takes your plate as Magda lifts you up into your seat, tucking you in before you're allowed to start gobbling up your lunch.

Obi's chosen very well again as you eat your pasta and pancetta. You really like pasta. You think it's your favourite food even though Momma and Morsa have made sure that you like lots of other food too.

Pernille taps your plate. "Eat some salad too."

You huff.

A love of salad is not something that they've managed to instil in you. You're not a big fruit eater, having favoured vegetables since you were a lot younger but the idea of salad has always been boring and you'll always avoid it if you can.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes," Pernille replies," It'll make you big and strong."

You wrinkle your nose in annoyance as your spear a weird green cube on your fork. It's kind of soft but kind of not. Your fork goes straight through it and you sniff cautiously.

It doesn't smell bad, per say, but you still don't really want to eat it.

You do anyway because Momma is right but it doesn't mean you'll enjoy it.

And you really don't enjoy it.

The weird green cubes you eat make your mouth all itchy and your throat goes all tight again.

You scrunch up your face and put down your fork just as Obi joins the table.

"What's with the face?" She laughs, making everyone turn to look at you," Does the avocado taste weird?"

Magda and Pernille both freeze, food halfway to their mouths as Georgia cocks her head to the side in confusion.

"You're looking kind of red there, y/n. Do you need-"

You never quite hear what Georgia was going to ask as your throat closes up just as Pernille hauls you out of your seat.

Magda tears open the backpack on the back of her seat to grab an epipen, slamming it into your leg suddenly.

You yelp at the sudden pain blooming in your thigh but your throat and mouth feel less itchy and scratchy

"What the fuck?!" Georgia swears, feeling a little queasy as Magda pulls the needle out of your leg. She has to force herself to turn away until Magda puts it down.

Obi is also speechless, mouth opening and closing but no words are able to come out.

A crowd has formed now, after all the commotion and Pernille clutches you to her as the medics check you over.

You epipen works quickly and this reaction was nowhere near as severe as your first.

In fact, Magda reacted so quickly that your face didn't even have the chance to break out in hives fully so your recovery is already happening before you've even realised that you were having an allergic reaction.

"We'll pop an icepack on this," One of the medics say, hand lightly grazing the large bruise developing over your injection site.

"I feel sick," Georgia mutters nearby, having to turn away again when the she catches sight of the mere size of the bruise.

"She's okay?" Pernille checks, still clinging to you and furiously wiping away the few tears that have dripped down her cheeks.

"Keep the icepack on, let her get lots of rest and she'll be right as rain," The medic confirms.

Magda sits slumped on her chair, turning to Obi.

"She's allergic to avocado."

"I didn't know."

"I know. We should have told you. Kiwi and banana too."

"And latex," Pernille cuts in," But only kind of."

The adults are all fussing over you, Pernille especially.

You're still sitting on the floor together with a big icepack on your leg and her arms wrapped tight around you like she's scared to let go.

"Momma?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have my pasta back please?"

[genshin-scenarios]

truths hidden in the snow - rubedo × reader

Wordcount: 1900+

Content Warnings: spoilers for the old dragonspine event and brief references to an attempted (but failed) murder! In case you aren't sure who this is, Rubedo is also known as Susbedo, Primordial Albedo, and etc.

Thinking about Rubedo who lures you to Dragonspine one day with a letter impersonating Albedo; something about how 'the primordial subject' is back. You show up, Rubedo tries to kill you... and it almost works, but you manage to knock him out with a pretty harsh blow to the head, and the snowy mountain falls silent.

...He isn't dead, obviously, but you can't just leave him there to wake up and continue his potentially nefarious plans. So you lug him into your teapot abode and lock down your guestroom. When he awakens after a few days, the first thing out of his mouth is:

"Where am I...? And- Who are you?"

The hand prepped on the hilt of your weapon falls, and all the intimidation you've been hyping yourself up to exude suddenly melts away into hesitance.

"You're in my home." You reply carefully. "Do you remember anything about how you got here?"

Rubedo's brow furrows; more expressive than anything you've seen on him, and shakes his head.

The following days are strange, to say the least. After you left Rubedo in the guestroom to 'get him some water,' you teleport to Mondstadt in a rush and burst into Albedo's office for help.

"So from your understanding, Subject Two has lost his memories...?" Albedo surmised. "He may begin to recall things after some time. But in the odd chance that he doesn't..."

This could be a new start for him. A life separate from the burdens of his past.

'There should not be anything that other humans or I can do, that he cannot.' You recall Albedo's words. Perhaps you may find him as a helpful companion for your adventures.

Or, you may be able to help him settle into a 'normal' life.

Putting aside the moral dilemma of making up a new identity for him, you've been living a little awkwardly with Rubedo in your teapot abode, ever since. He really doesn't seem to remember his vice against Albedo or intent to silence you - and you've been mostly treating him like a patient up until now.

"Good morning," you greet, nudging open the door of the guestroom with your hip while you balanced a tray of food in your hands. "Did you sleep well?"

Rubedo looks up from the Teyvat Travel Guide that you've brought him for light reading (he hadn't requested any specific material; just content that would jog his memory about Teyvat), and nods. "It is still hard for me to recall the contents of my dreams, but I believe I was on the mountain you described you rescued me from." Dragonspine.

You've noticed that he does differ from Albedo in a couple of ways (not that you managed to observe him at all before this debacle, since he mysteriously went into hiding after your first meeting long ago). Rubedo is a little sharp and blunt in the way he speaks - regarding the trinkets you've brought him with curiousity, but not quite wonder. He is curious about the outside world but regards them as new content to pick apart. You've seen the gears turning in his head as you handed him a kamera for the first time, and he spent the day disassembling it and putting it back together again.

You have no doubt that Rubedo is also a genius, judging from the way he copied Albedo's alchemy back during your first confrontation on Dragonspine and effortless dissection of trinkets you've brought him. But you're also starting to feel bad for keeping him trapped in this room; you're cautious for a reason, yes, but he is still a person. You can't keep him under room arrest for much longer.

"Rubedo," you start, causing his eyes to flick up from his book to meet yours. "Would you like a tour of the abode?"

"Are you sure?" He stays put in his bed, regarding you with a stare that is not quite blaming, but not deceived by your demeanor by any means. Rubedo can tell that you're keeping him here for a reason, but he's never attempted to pry beyond taking note of how nervous you seem around him. His lips curl into a small smile. "I was beginning to wonder if we weren't on amicable terms, since you've always been a little wary around me."

You try not to react. "Of course not! It's just, your whole memory loss thing made me cautious; I didn't want to be too forward when you don't remember who I am."

"Forward...?" He tilts his head, a little cat-like. "In what way?"

Shit. "In- In a friendly way!" You ramble, making stuff up. Of course he'd be the type to pay attention to wording. "We used to spar for fun, and get into fights that weren't too serious..." You start to get flashbacks of Whopper-bedo attacking you and your friends. "You... were quite the alchemist." You finish weakly. "We were acquainted, but weren't too close. I just happened to be the one who found you on the mountain that night, like I told you before."

"...And I lived quite a secluded life, so not many people knew me." Rubedo repeats the half-truths you've told him. His smile turns a little crooked. "I must've liked you quite a lot, to have interacted that much with you."

"I guess so!" You agree, ushering him out of the room in hopes that his first view of the rest of your house will distract him.

Rubedo scans over the furnishings, stopping by the picture frames around the living room. It doesn't take long for him to decide that he doesn't know any of these people. "You must have been quite the popular adventurer."

It's a good thing you had the foresight (read: paranoia) to remove all images of Albedo, just in case Rubedo did manage to sneak out of his room when you weren't there. "Well... I've been to a lot of places, so I guess it's natural to collect my memories like this, somehow."

Rubedo hums. "And it seems like there is none with me."

Unsure of how to respond to that, you blab the first reason you can think of. "Well! We never had a reason to take pictures together, and weren't that close, so..." You quiet down. "I wasn't sure about our boundaries."

It's quite clear that you are holding something back, or lying. And despite Rubedo's unfamiliarity with human customs, he's not an idiot. "Traveler..."

"Right! You haven't been outside in a week!" You grab his wrist and promptly drag him out to the outdoor area of your abode; filled with flowers and critters that you've adopted during your travels. "Some fresh air would do you some good!"

Disagreement flickers in Rubedo's eyes until you push the main doors open, leading the both of you into a lush, peaceful scene. Crystalflies and birds flutter about your large garden, which is being tended to by the wonderful means of Tubby, your teapot supervisor.

The 'sunlight' and night in here is also somewhat manually decided upon, thus it's comfortingly warm as you both stroll through the flowers and gaze out at the great expanse of floating clouds. You mention that on one of the far-off islands, you've been meaning to create a little sanctuary walk with waterfalls and the like, but haven't had the time to.

Rubedo's been a little quiet. And finally, he asks:

"...Why are you showing me all of this?" This time, confusion tinges in his voice, as he finally forces you to meet his eyes by turning to you. "No matter how you may have felt responsible for my care, we didn't seem to be very close. I don't understand why you'd keep me here instead of sending me back to where I used to live."

Your bravado wavers. Everything he's said is reasonable, but you don't have the heart to say that you don't know where to send him, nor want him to find out that there's 'another him' walking around in the form of Albedo, and question his origins from there. It's clear from your time with Rubedo that he's sharp and will figure it out in no time.

"The truth is..." You force out, grasping for straws. "You never told me where you lived - we only met on Dragonspine as our little getaway. So I don't know who else you're acquainted with either, or who to contact. But, um... You've also lived here before, so I figured it wouldn't be too bad if I just housed you until you got your memories back, and..."

You would later learn that Rubedo has an excellent memory. And that, mortifyingly, one of the books you've haphazardly brought him based on the title, thinking it was a regular novel, was a romance book.

'When one stays over at another's home, that may imply that a type of close relationship exists between them...'

'...Was there something of that nature between us?'

Perhaps it was the way he was looking at you; intent, thoughtful, and somehow intense, but it felt like something bad may happen if you said no. Something in your gut told you that while saying yes would land you into a whole different boat of trouble, saying no means that Rubedo may discover the truth somehow with that brilliant mind of his - much sooner than you're prepared for.

"...Maybe." You look down at your hands, delaying the inevitable. Twisting this into something that may become much worse, once his past was brought to light. "It was never anything official, but there were things about each other that only we knew."

True, yet horribly false. "Despite that, we still had a bit of distance between us. But we did continue to meet on Dragonspine... and I guess I just didn't want to take advantage of your memory loss, so I've been keeping my distance."

A budding romance that never really caught on or bloomed. That seemed to be enough for Rubedo, who seemed to regard your past behavior as fairly in-line with what you just said; it explains why you were willing to house him but seemed uncomfortable at the same time. Maybe you'll twist this into a 'I think my feelings have settled, and that we should just be friends' situation in a few days, and that'll be that.

...That should've been that, but after a short period of retrospection, Rubedo seems to have decided on something. And you cant be sure if this is how he'd genuinely respond to the situation or if it was just a test.

"What... What are you doing?" You squeak, not having expected a pair of hands to cover yours, taking the knife and ingredients gently out of your grasp as Rubedo replies, standing behind you.

He's way too close!

"I just thought I'd help you cook, from now on." He answers, voice soft due to your proximity. Despite not having any body heat, you could feel his hair tickling your shoulder as he looked over it to chop up the vegetables on the cutting board for you. "I'm afraid you'll have to guide me through the steps, but I've watched you prepare dinner enough times to know how cutting these work." He pauses. "Is it not what couples do?"

Spending time together. Cooking together. And maybe...

Rubedo is not a person who picks his words without thinking, and the word couple hits you like a truck. Suddenly, your ears are burning. And it takes all the willpower in your body to hold still and not expose how flustered you've become.

Knowing Rubedo, even if this was a test - he wouldn't be the kind of boyfriend that's shy by any means.

What kind of a mess have you roped yourself into?

[perseephoneee]

you always did like clint eastwood [kol mikaelson x f!reader]

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange information ↳ taglist

synopsis: you and kol get stuck in 1800's western america

cw: era typical violence, surface level wild west research

authors note: this fic is for my friend (who wishes to remain anonymous) as a delayed birthday gift hehe. love you darling.

Understanding Kol Mikaelson was like a rainbow; sometimes it happened, but rarely ever. And when you really saw him, you found a sort of beauty people would never see. Today was not a rainbow day. Today was actually a really, really bad day. 

You're tired of being the Mikaelson's go-to witch. All it does is ruin your day and cause you too many bumps and bruises. And then there's Kol…Kol, who enjoys teasing you but will never let you get close enough to see what's going on beneath. It makes it hard to trust him. But you really need to trust him, especially right now. Because the latest spell in Klaus' hair-brained schemes has caused both you and Kol to end up in 1800s western America. Right in cowboy country. 

You really could kill him. 

If he hadn't distracted you, this portal spell wouldn't have sent you here. Instead, it would've brought something useful to you. But now you're stuck in an era where they really hate women, and they really hate witches. 

"I'm going to kill you," you hiss out. You're blinking back at the sun shining high above you. You're standing under the entrance of 'Willowbrooks'– a western town from Kol's understanding. The dust swirls around your feet and gets in your throat, not helping your sour mood. It didn't help that the name sounded familiar; you were trying to think about why.

"It could be worse," Kol laughed. He put a hand over his eyes as he observed a vulture flying overhead. "I never had the chance to be a proper cowboy."

"Probably for the best. You'd be a nightmare."

"I take offense to that," Kol smirked. "C'mon."

"To where?"

"This sign might be here, but that town is still a while away. We should get there before nightfall," Kol started walking without you, and you groaned as you ran to keep up. He would occasionally whistle, which would only aggravate your mood. Sometimes, he shared a joke that would make you wish for a quick death from wherever you were heading. Your walk took the rest of the day into the evening until you eventually entered an old western town. You both stuck out like sore thumbs. Kol, ever the lover of breaking the rules, immediately went toward a clothesline at the back of a building. He tossed you some articles of clothing haphazardly, with you barely catching them. 

"What are you doing?" you whisper, afraid to raise your voice. Kol starts undressing before you, and you quickly avert your gaze. 

"Blending in," he replies. You catch a glance at his body, abdomen toned in a way that wasn't entirely fair. Your cheeks burn as you look away. Standing around waiting for him to be done seemed foolish, so you find another place to hide as you quickly dress. The clothes didn't exactly fit, but you made it work. It was just a simple blue blouse with a long tiered skirt. You kept your combat boots, hoping that no one would notice. You didn't want to worry about locating your shoe size as well. By the time you went back to Kol, he was also clothed. Between the dark blue tunic and the black vest, he looked like the kinda devilish character that you'd want to avoid in one of these old Western movies. But to you, he was the safest thing around. 

"If anyone asks, darling," he gives you a look. "You're my wife, and we're visiting on our way to see family."

"If I'm your wife, don't expect me to be too nice about it," you smile. He just grins, fangs flashing. 

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Going to a saloon seemed stupid and cliche, but the only inn in Willowbrooks happened to be a saloon. You followed behind Kol, and despite his cavalier attitude about your adventure, he kept close to you and seemed to be observing everything that moved. He didn't feel safe here either. 

Unlike the movies, the saloon didn't come to a grinding halt when you both entered. A few stares were thrown your way, but fortunately, it wasn't as dramatic. You forgot that Kol lived in this time, which you guess was helpful because you probably would've gotten yourself killed if you were alone. He sidled up to the bar with no problem and requested a room, slipping into a western drawl that you didn't realize he had in him. You tried to observe your surroundings without being suspicious. Above the bar, a piece of paper advertised the special as a drink called "coffin varnish," which sounded as appetizing as one could imagine. The smell of the establishment left a lot to be desired and made you miss the glory of modern plumbing. But the thing that caught your eye was the glittering sheriff badge on a man sitting at the other end of the counter. He was in hushed conversation with another, maybe a deputy or just a friend, but you still managed to overhear some of it. 

"That damn Foley coven is getting on my nerves," the sheriff sighed, taking a swig of dark liquid. "Especially Elizabeth. It's bad for business."

"Lincoln already freed the damn slaves; what else do they want from us?" the other man shook his head, looking at his cup. 

"Easy. They want our heads," the sheriff chuckled, but it was an empty laugh of a tired man. 

"Whatcha going to do?"

"What I always do," the sheriff finished off his drink. "Take care of it."

You jolted as Kol wrapped an arm around your waist, distracting you from your eavesdropping. He raised a brow but didn't say anything, and you gave him a look that you'd tell him later. He took the hint and nodded towards the stairs that led to the rooms, with you following behind. The floor creaked beneath your feet as you ascended to your room, a tiny thing at the end of the hall with a washroom across from it. You sighed as you saw the one bed, but didn't have the mental capacity to deal with it. 

"This must be like one of your romance novels," Kol snorts as he takes in your tiny room. You sat down at the edge, undoing your shoes and ignoring him. "What, no witty comeback?"

"What if we're here for a reason?" you question, the thought circling your brain since leaving the bar. 

"What reason, this was a spell gone wrong," Kol leaned against the wall, looking at you inquisitively. 

"The sheriff down there wants to take out a coven of witches in the area, the Foley coven," you sat forward, hands on your knees. "I thought the name of this town sounded familiar, and now I remember why. The Foleys wanted to free the rest of the slaves on the western frontier, in addition to giving women more opportunities to work. But the town of Willowbrooks didn't want that. They ended up burning the head of the coven and set the two parties into a civil war. No one knew what happened to the Foley witches, and even today, if you visit the town, it's a ghost town. Literally."

"And this concerns us…?" 

"What if we're here to stop the fight from happening, to save a witch?" you looked at him, hope and fury in your eyes. "What if that's how we get home? By righting a past wrong?"

"You read too many stories," Kol sighed, running a hand over his face. 

"I don't know if we can save the witch that burns, maybe we aren't meant to. But I can't shake the feeling that we're here for a reason, and my witch's sense hasn't led me wrong yet." Kol continues to look at you with hesitation and tiredness. As you know, it wasn't in his nature to help. You were going to make him do it anyway. "Please?"

The internal battle waging war in Kol's mind made his eyes cloudy as he thought about what you said. He swore under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. 

"We can…talk to the witches tomorrow," Kol said. "But we might not be able to change anything. Okay, darling?"

"Okay," you smiled, without malice for once since landing in this shitty town. "And Kol?" He looked at you. "Don't get handsy in the bed, or I'll cut them off." 

He grinned. 

~

Kol didn't touch you during the night, although he snored, which was fairly annoying. You woke up to the sight of him curled into a tight ball on the other side as if he was stopping himself from intruding on your personal space. It was the most respectful thing you've ever seen him do. 

By the time he woke, you had gotten dressed in some clothes you had stolen from another room (sorry, unsuspecting patron) and used the wash basin across the hall. You still felt dirty, and the heat from outside wasn't helpful, but it was better than nothing. You wish you could have a toothbrush, though. You also ventured downstairs to the main saloon. You tried to be inconspicuous when asking where the closest food place was. Fortunately, they had a kitchen right in the establishment, and you were able to eat some eggs, beef, and beans. You even had coffee, even if it tasted like dirt water. You debated saving something for Kol but remembered he wouldn't want any. 

You came back up the stairs to him, still lounging in bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Planning to stay here all day?" you inquired, leaning against the doorframe. He smiled at you, not as flirtatious as usual. "What's wrong?" you narrowed your eyes. Kol wasn't usually this silent. 

"It's…strange," he shrugged as best he could while lying down. 

"Strange?"

"Being in the past," Kol sat up a little bit. He had taken the vest off before bed, and the blue shirt underneath was crumpled with sleep. "I've forgotten so much of it."

You take pause at that statement. "Do you remember much of your life?"

"Bits and pieces, like anyone looking back on childhood, I suppose," Kol played with the bedsheets between his fingers. "I… don't think I was very nice during this era."

He sounds so sad about it, and the feeling leaves an uncomfortable ache in your chest. Was it regret in his voice? Or just commentary about who he was. Sometimes, you couldn't understand whether Kol was warning you away from him or explaining his actions. His statement also came with the startling realization that of the Mikaelsons, he was the one you feared the least. Strange considering his reputation, but it was knowledge you tucked deep inside for later. 

"I think you're nice," you shrugged. Kol looked at you with barely veiled surprise. "I mean, you kept to yourself while we were sleeping. That was pretty nice."

Kol grinned at that, and it made you smile. There was the devilish vampire you remember. 

You departed quickly after that, making your way to the outskirts of town. Relying on your own sixth sense, you allowed yourself to be drawn to the magic farther past the confines of Willowbrooks. Kol made up for his somber morning mood by singing 'Cotton-Eyed Joe.' It was the first time on the trip you wished for a white oak stake so you could stab him. 

You stopped atop a hill and narrowed your eyes at a dilapidated building below. 

"That's where the witches are," you pointed. Kol put his hands on his hips. 

"Well, darling," he sighed. "Let's meet your brethren."

You walked up to the building, the sun beating against you. You felt sweat beading on your forehead, rolling down your cheeks and not helping your already disgusting appearance. When you approached the door, you did what any sensible person would do– you knocked. 

"Very polite," Kol murmured. 

"Shut up."

The door opened, but no one stood behind it. You cautiously entered, taking in the darkness. You gasped as all at once, hundreds of candles flickered to life. A small group of women huddled in the corner, their faces illuminated by the flames. The one closest to the door, an older woman with braided long white hair and eyes the color of storms, stepped forward

"We've been expecting you," she smiled. 

~

The woman was revealed to be Elizabeth Foley, the one the sheriff (who you learned to be named Sheriff Dunn) had complained about the day before. Apparently, one of the witches foretold the two of you showing up that day. You should really be less surprised. 

"There has to be a way to stop this before too many innocent lives are lost," you said, sitting at a wooden table with Elizabeth. She ground a mix of herbs with a mortar and pestle. 

"Innocent lives will always be lost as long as men are involved," Elizabeth said, glancing at Kol. He stood by the wall, watching the other witches work around him. He seemed uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry for bringing a vampire into your home," you apologized. Elizabeth grabbed your hand, squeezing lightly. 

"I do not fear him, neither should you."

You didn't know how to respond to that. 

"I will go into the town tomorrow and talk with the Sheriff," Elizabeth returned to grinding her herbs. 

"He'll kill you."

"Perhaps," Elizabeth shrugged. You found her to be rather calm despite the circumstances. "But this town isn't lost yet. Perhaps it will take someone like you and your friend to convince them of that."

You went back to the inn by nightfall, finding yourself staring up at the ceiling instead of Kol this time. Maybe you both had issues with dissociating. Kol flopped on the bed next to you a second later. 

"What do you think she meant by 'convincing the town?'" you turned to look at him. His hands were tucked behind his head, causing his shirt to slide up a bit. You ignored the sight. 

"Get them to stop the sheriff? Who knows" Kol quirked a brow. 

"But it might not stop a witch from dying."

Kol had nothing to say to that, and you didn't expect him to. You chewed your lip in thought. Eventually, you turned on your side to face him. 

"Thank you," you murmured. He glanced at you.

"For what?"

"For helping me."

"I just want to get home," Kol snorted.

"I don't believe that," you replied, shaking your head. Kol looked at you, warmth in his otherwise dark gaze. 

"You always see the best in people, don't you?"

"I have to," you glanced away. "Otherwise, no one else will."

Kol turned to face you, brows furrowed in thought. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair that had fallen across your face, tucking it delicately behind your ear. The warmth from his fingers made you close your eyes. His hand went to your neck, grazing the collarbone before dancing over your shoulder. You tried to keep your breathing even as he lightly touched you.

"Do you see any good in me?" he whispered as if afraid to ask the question. You opened your eyes, looking at the furrow of his brow to heavy lashes as he refused to make eye contact. 

"I do," you hummed. "When you let me."

That seemed to settle something within Kol, who leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. It was barely anything, but you leaned into it, and that was enough to let him get rid of his reservations. His hand cupped your face, disrupting the hair he had been so gentle to tuck away. Your hand went to his waist, feeling the skin you had pretended not to eye earlier. You let out a gasp as his teeth nipped your lower lip, deepening what was already becoming something you knew you wouldn't want to run away from. Kissing Kol felt like a slow fire burning within you, growing in size until the only thing you could feel was his touch and his tongue on your body. His lips traveled along your jaw, kissing the delicate skin of your neck. Your mouth parted as blunt fangs dragged along the skin, nipping at your collarbone. You wished he would leave a mark. 

Kol couldn't stay away from your lips for long and returned to them with a fervor that insinuated that he'd been waiting to do this for some time. You let yourself be pulled on top of him as he rolled onto his back, his lips never leaving yours. You parted to breathe, nose nudging his and safety flooding your body as his arms wrapped securely around you. 

"Kol," you whispered. He hummed thoughtfully. Your hands brushed through his hair. "I've always seen you."

He grinned, kissing your cheek. "I know, darling. I know."

~

Unlike the night before, you let Kol hold you that night. You woke in warmth and a sense of belonging you'd been hoping for for a while. You didn't know what to expect today about the town of Willowbrooks, but you knew you wouldn't be alone through its trials. 

When you stepped outside, the town was already waiting with bated breath. Elizabeth stood facing down Sheriff Dunn, her skirt billowing around her ankles and her gaze steely. Sheriff Dunn glared. 

"Let this go, William," Elizabeth said. She seemed unhurried in her approach. "This town has suffered enough."

"Suffered because of creatures like you."

"No," she smiled, a faint thing. "Because of people like you."

The town shuffled uncomfortably on their feet, unsure what to do. You and Kol circled closer. 

"Elizabeth Foley, I charge you with crimes of disrupting the peace, and punishment must be served," Dunn announced, reverberating across the desert. Elizabeth didn't look shocked by this at all. You watched as Dunn removed his belt, wrapping it around his hands. Elizabeth got down on her knees, and you started forward. Kol grabbed your arm, yanking you back. 

"What are you doing?" you hissed, his grip a vice.

"You can't stop this, not by running forward."

"She's going to be tortured."

"It'll be worse if you intervene," Kol looked around at the people around you. You looked as well and took in the faces of horror and fear flickering across everyone's expressions. A half-baked idea started to form in your head just as the first whip sounded. Elizabeth didn't scream, even as the blood started to show on her shirt. Not even as Sheriff Dunn hit a second and third time. You watched the townspeople flinch, people of different backgrounds and colors watching with a tension that only came with disagreement. You wrenched your arm out of Kol's grip and approached the citizens. 

"Are you really going to stand by and watch as this man continues to hold your freedom hostage?" you exclaimed, voice loud. People looked at you in shock, Kol included. "When this woman is fighting for all men and women, regardless of circumstance, to have the same rights as the white man?"

"She is ready to take the belt if it means protecting people like you, people who never protected her," Kol yelled, joining you in your protest. He sent you a wink as he faced the other side of the town. 

"You have the power to do something! You have the power to put your foot down!" You walked closer, making a point to look at each person individually. You saw a few nods, and you let your voice get louder. Each exclamation between you and Kol drowned out the held-in whimpers of Elizabeth and the sound of the cracking skin. You watched the light ignite within more and more people and, for once, started feeling actual hope. 

It wasn't until Elizabeth was a heap on the ground, barely holding herself up, that the sound of a rifle being cocked reverberated throughout the courtyard. One of the men was aiming at the sheriff, who looked at him in shock. 

"That's enough, William. Let her go."

"Let us go," another man said, his own belt off and wrapped in his hands. More people kept joining in, saying similar sentiments. Sheriff Dunn hissed, stepping away from the approaching mob. He reached for his own gun, but the sound of several others being pointed his way was enough to set him running instead. As dozens of townspeople chased after him, you watched in satisfaction as metaphorical pitchforks arose. You spent only a second in that feeling before rushing towards Elizabeth. You slumped on the ground, pulling her into your arms. 

"Elizabeth," you gasped, your hands covered in the blood seeping through her clothes. She looked up at you with dazed eyes, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. 

"You did it, sweet girl."

"I-I didn't do anything," you stammered. 

"You brought hope," she coughed. "The most precious gift of them all."

Kol ran up next to you, biting into his wrist as he skidded to a stop next to Elizabeth.

"Drink," he demanded. "Let us help you."

"I don't need your blood, Mikaelson," she chuckled. You don't remember telling her his name. "My coven can heal me just fine. It's time for you two to go."

"Go? How?" you inquired, looking at Kol. He shrugged. 

"Take care of her," Elizabeth said to Kol, nodding. 

You couldn't get another word in as you felt your body dissipate into sparkling atoms. By the time you re-materialized, you were back in the Mikaelson compound. Rebekah startled from her place on the couch, glancing at the two of you, hand-in-hand on the ground. She took in both of your outfits and snorted. 

"Well, Kol," she drawled. "You always did like Clint Eastwood."

[milatiny-xx]

freezing point | j.wy

pairing: jung wooyoung x gn!reader summary: you're assigned to help wooyoung film a winter vlog. the problem is, the heat's out at the cabin and the repairman can't come until tomorrow. tags: fluff, mutual pining, slow burn(ish), ateez staff!reader wc: 3.0k a/n: hi loves! first post on a shiny new blog ✨✨ it's literally already like summer where i'm at, but hey i think it's still mostly cold in korea rn so enjoy cuddly woo. x

⊹₊⟡⋆ masterlist | taglist ⊹₊⟡⋆

"Ach, it's freezing out here!" Wooyoung says, hissing through clenched teeth. "Whose idea was it to shoot a winter vlog?"

"You can take that up with your Captain," you reply.

You slide the lens off of the camera and carefully detach it from the tripod, wary of the ankle-deep snow it's wedged in.

"I won't be able to," Wooyoung mutters in response. "I'll be dead, because I froze to death."

You chuckle quietly, shaking your head at his dramatic behavior. As a part of ATEEZ's staff, you've come to terms with the fact that your job sometimes requires you to put up with less than ideal conditions and abnormal tasks. You have to admit that when management approved Hongjoong's idea to shoot a vlog at a winter cabin, you hadn't been overly excited about it.

Particularly, when you were assigned to be Wooyoung's personal camera operator. Of course you know that being assigned to a specific member not only means you have to follow them around all day long but also that you have to stare down a camera lens directly at their face for hours and hours.

You've done it plenty of times before for other members—usually Jongho or San. But management wanted to switch things up for a change of pace. If you're being honest, it's hard enough for you to hold eye contact with Wooyoung for ten seconds, let alone ten hours.

"Two steps to your right, please," you direct. He follows your instructions, and you nod. "Perfect. Okay, so for this part, just say hi and welcome everyone back to ATEEZ's YouTube channel and explain what we're doing here. You know how this all works. We can do a couple of takes if you want."

You position yourself behind the camera, lining up your sightline and raising a hand so that you can signal to Wooyoung. He stares directly into the camera, and it feels like he's looking straight into your eyes. Clearing your throat, you swallow a smile as he pastes a handsome grin on his face and prepares to deliver his lines.

"And...three, two, one..." you count down and point to cue Wooyoung.

"Hi Atiny!" he beams, waving sweetly. "It's my turn to film a vlog, so I'm taking you on a little winter adventure. We're here in Gangwon Province at a cabin that's just a little distance away from the Yongpyong Ski Resort."

He points in the direction of the ski lodge, and you smoothly angle the camera to where you can just see the tip of the resort sticking up over the tree line. You pan back to Wooyoung.

"We're gonna head there tomorrow to snowboard," he continues, "but for now we're gonna go inside and check out the cabin and then head into town to go grocery shopping for some food. So, let's go inside!"

"And cut!" you shout after pausing for a few seconds. "Wow, you nailed that. I'm impressed. Wanna see it?"

He nods and comes over to stand beside you. You position the camera so you can both see, too aware of how close he's standing; too aware of the way his warm breath ghosts over your uncovered neck. You gulp, playing the video back. He watches in uncharacteristic silence, nodding his head and clapping when the video ends. You smile, slinging the camera over your neck.

"Be honest. I'm better than the other members, right?" he says, grinning cheekily.

"Better than San? Yes, significantly better and much easier to work with. San has so much random, chaotic energy that it's hard to keep track of him sometimes. Better than Jongho?" you smile teasingly at him. "Never. Your maknae is a dream to work with."

Wooyoung scoffs, clutching his chest in fake pain. Despite yourself, you gasp when his hand clamps around your shoulder. He pretends to stumble, as if he's been shot. You bite the inside of your cheek to swallow a laugh and brush his hand away from your shoulder. Wooyoung smiles, tilting his head toward you.

"A dream? Oof. That's okay. Challenge accepted," he says.

He winks. You feel the burn immediately as it spreads across your ears and cheeks. You clear your throat, dropping your head to look at the camera screen. You're used to him flirting like that. He does it with everyone. Most of the members are shameless flirts. But you can't deny that when Wooyoung says things like that to you, you like to pretend he means it.

"Uh...let's head inside," you say, trying to change the subject. "We can do a cabin tour."

The cabin is small and simple, with just a living room, small kitchen, two bedrooms, and a shared bathroom. You silently thank your supervisor for remembering to book a cabin with two beds.

Taking into consideration Wooyoung's playful, excitable behavior, he's a natural in front of the camera. You're able to get through the cabin tour in less than twenty minutes with only two takes.

"And cut! Perfect. On second thought, Jongho might need to be a little worried now," you say. As you're double-checking the video, you find your teeth chattering violently. "Jeez, is there a thermostat in here? It's freezing."

Wooyoung shrugs, and you put down your camera as you both begin to search the cabin looking for the thermostat.

"Ah, found it!" Wooyoung shouts, and you follow his voice into the hallway.

"Oh thank god. Turn it all the way up, please."

Wooyoung chuckles. The way he grins at you, makes your stomach churn. Your eyes drop down to appreciate his slender fingers as they press the arrow next to the word HEAT. You wait a few seconds, listening intently for the sound of the heater clicking on. But nothing comes.

"Whaaa...?" he mumbles.

"Try again," you say.

He looks at you for a brief second before trying again, applying more pressure to the buttons this time. You wait again. Nothing. He tries a third time. And then a fourth time.

"Uh...maybe you have to hit another button first? Like to turn it on?" you suggest, peering over his shoulder to study the options.

He clicks every single button on the machine but nothing has any effect, whatsoever. He shakes his head, shooting you a concerned glance.

"Ahh," he whines. "I think it's broken."

"No...no there's no way it doesn't work...right? They would never put us in a cabin with a thermostat that doesn't work. Not in this weather. W-wait, hold on. Let me call someone an-and double check," you stutter, fumbling for your phone.

You dial your supervisor's number, tapping your foot as it rings. Your heart lurches when he answers on the other side. You explain the situation, sure that he'll have a solution. He assures you that he'll call the landlord and straighten everything out.

A sigh of relief escapes your chest, and you nod toward Wooyoung. Thank god. Crisis averted.

You finish up filming the cabin and then head down into town to shoot Wooyoung's shopping adventure. He lets his silliness come out a little more at the grocery store, getting up close and personal with the camera—and you. You laugh as he struggles to find the right products for the tteokbokki he wants to make for dinner, cracking jokes, and just generally looking really, really cute.

After traveling back up to the cabin, you film Wooyoung getting started on the dinner. The heat from the stove helps a little in warming the house, but you're impatiently awaiting the repairman's arrival. As if on cue, your phone rings. You place the camera down and answer quickly.

"Please tell me the repairman is walking up the path now?" you say into the receiver.

"Er..." your supervisor clears his throat, obviously nervous.

"Oh no...what?"

"I'm afraid the repairman is booked up today. He won't be able to make it until tomorrow."

"What?!"

"I know, I know. But there's a fireplace, at least, isn't there?"

Your gaze flicks toward the small fireplace in the living room.

"Well, yeah, but it...it's tiny."

"Well, it'll have to do for tonight. Listen, I'm sorry for the setback, but it's just for one night. If you need to buy some extra blankets or something, go ahead and we'll charge it to the company account.  Anyway, this gives you a fun angle for Wooyoung's vlog. How to survive a night at a cabin without heat. You know, like a challenge. With a snappy title like, er...Freezing Point."

"Freezing point?" you quirk an eyebrow. "This was not supposed to be a challenge video. I wasn't even supposed to be assigned to this project," you whine, turning your back to Wooyoung and lowering your voice.

You are not strong enough for this.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing you can do except wait for the repairman to come tomorrow."

You run a hand over your face and groan.

"Okay, thanks anyway." You hang up and turn to meet Wooyoung's face. His eyebrows are raised curiously. "The repairman can't make it until tomorrow. We're stuck without heat tonight."

"Ahhh, no way," he responds.

"That tteokbokki better be piping hot."

Wooyoung chuckles, running a hand through his hair. When he turns away to check on the food, you allow your eyes to shamelessly trail along the angle of his jaw and down the veins in his neck. Your stomach flips unexpectedly, so you rip your gaze away.

Three years you've worked for ATEEZ, watched Wooyoung from behind the scenes, chit-chatted with him here and there while trying not to lose your mind. Now, here you are alone with him, watching him cook you dinner.

It suddenly feels so...domestic.

The tteokbokki is just warm enough to get some heat back into your bodies for about an hour or so. To your surprise, Wooyoung is not a bad cook, at all. You thoroughly enjoy your meal and talking to him. After cleaning up, you take turns changing into your pajamas. You both agree the best bet is to sleep on the floor in the living room where the fireplace is.

Wooyoung figures out how to light it while you search through the closets and drawers, gathering all the blankets you can find. You work together to set up the blankets and pillows across the floor in front of the fireplace, creating a makeshift bed. Despite the small space, you make sure to position yourself on the far edge of the room.

You lie down, facing the fire and pull a blanket up to your chin. Wooyoung, on the other hand, settles down on his back right in front of the fire. He holds out his hands, sighing contentedly. His eyes flick over to you, and he does a double take. His head lolls to the side.

"What are you doing over there?" he asks.

"Hm? Just...laying."

"Don't you...wanna sleep in front of the fire? I worked so hard lighting it," he pouts playfully.

You can't help but smile. How is he so cute??

"I'm okay here."

His eyes linger on you for a moment, and his unimpressed expression makes you think he's not convinced. But he shrugs and rolls back toward the fireplace.

"Suit yourself," he says in a sing-song voice.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to sleep, but it's so freaking cold. Your breath escapes shakily, and you can't help but shiver, even with the blanket. A sniff makes you realize that your nose is beginning to run, too.

"Are you still cold?" Wooyoung's voice escapes sweet and low.

Your eyes flash open, and you lose your breath. He's turned on his side, the fire casting a gentle orange light across his handsome face. He looks so soft, warm, sincere.

You suddenly realize the situation you're in—the fact that you could be nestled in between his arms right now if you really wanted to.

"N-no. I'm f-fine," you stutter, clenching your teeth together to keep them from chattering. You aren't totally sure if the chattering is from the cold or your nerves.

"You're shivering."

"J-just a little. I'll be ok-kay."

He shakes his head, lifting the blanket beside him. He beckons you over with a toss of his head.

"Come here," he says. You hesitate, opening your mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. He waves you over again. "Come on. I won't bite. Unless you ask."

You huff and crawl toward him, stiffly positioning your body beside his. You don't know if it was more awkward to face him or to turn away.  His arm curls around your shoulders as he drapes the blanket over you. Your spine goes rigid and eyes widen as you meet his gaze.

You watch as his sweet smile fades, his expression going dead serious. You expect him to withdraw his hand, but he doesn't. Instead, his fingers splay across your back. You can feel the warmth of his palm through your pajamas.

His eyes search your face, moving slowly and deliberately as if he were studying you.

"What are you doing?" you ask quietly, not sure if you actually mean to say it out loud.

"Looking at you."

"I've...never seen you so serious," you tease, hoping to dispel some of the tension.

"Pretty."

"What?"

"You. You're pretty. Very pretty. You always have been."

You freeze, not knowing how to respond. You can't bring yourself to break eye contact and can barely force yourself to breathe. Wooyoung's hand slides away from your back and moves toward your face. His palm cups your cheek, his thumb tracing down your cheekbone onto your chin. Your eyes flutter shut under his touch, relishing in the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb brushes over your lower lip. Your breath catches in your throat.

Is he insane?? You work for him. He's practically your boss. Nothing about this is appropriate.

So, why aren't you stopping him?

You pry your eyes open, looking at him pleadingly.

"Hmm," he hums, smirking. "You have a pretty mouth, too."

"Wooyoung..." the whisper, desperate and breathy, escapes your lips before you can stop it.

Wooyoung inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut and resting his forehead against yours.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks, breath uneven as he leans in close to you. You say nothing, your brain preoccupied with the effort it's taking to resist smashing your lips against his. "It's been torture for me. Every second of every day, I think about you. All the time, I'm thinking about you. I try not to, but whenever you're working I find you. I look at you. I want to look at you. I love looking at you."

You shake your head, placing your palm against his chest to push him away. He holds on tightly, barely moving an inch despite all of your strength. You look into his eyes, bewildered.

"Wooyoung, what are you talking about? How can any of this be true?" you ask.

His eyebrows knit together, pain etching across his face.

"You think I'm lying."

"No, of course not. I just...maybe it's the cold. It's messing with your head or your judgement or something."

His expression returns to that dead serious face, not a hint of the easygoing, carefree Wooyoung you're used to.

"I requested you."

"What?"

"I specifically requested you for this weekend."

You shake your head.

"I don't understand."

"It was my idea to switch around the camera operators. And, since it was my idea, they let me pick who I wanted to be paired with. So, I picked you. It sounds super creepy now...but I wanted to spend time with you. Just the two of us. I wanted to see if...if I still felt like this when it was just us. A-and I do. I really, really do. I like you. A lot."

You can't say anything for a moment, just search his eyes for any hint of this being a joke. You briefly wonder if there's a hidden camera somewhere to prank you. But nothing seems off. Everything—his expression, his body language, his words—they all feel genuinely real.

You aren't sure why, but a laugh suddenly spills from your chest. A few more follow before you gasp, slapping your hand over your mouth.

"Oh my god I'm sorry!" you say. "I just don't know what else to do because, well, it's not funny, but it sort of is because...well, I like you, too. I've liked you for a while, probably like two years now, but it was so inappropriate because I work for you. And that would have been weird, and they say not to mix business and pleasure, so I didn't say anything. Oh, and also, I thought you would never ever like me back like that because who am I? I'm just a random person, but you're..." you start to run out of steam, realizing that you're babbling something awful. "You're Wooyoung. You're amazing and wonderful and funny. And beautiful."

Wooyoung chuckles, his grip on your face tightening.

"Yeah, no, I definitely like you."

You giggle, feeling heat spread through you.

"So, what now?"

"Now? Oh, I'm gonna kiss you now. Okay?"

"Okay," your voice escapes like a different person's, giddy and childish and silly.

Wooyoung leans forward, tilting his head to capture your lips between his. Your eyes flutter shut, your palm on his chest curling into the fabric of his shirt. His mouth is soft and wet, molding perfectly on top of yours. The kiss is perfect, not too long, not too hard, just a little bit of pressure and a slow break.

When you open your eyes, a dumb smile curves across your lips. The way he's looking at you—like you're the most interesting thing on the planet—it's wonderful.

"I think maybe you just surpassed Jongho," you tease.

"Really?"

"Yeah, well, Jonho's never kissed me like that."

His expression goes serious for a minute.

"Jongho better never kiss you at all," he says firmly. He taps his pointer finger against your lips. "These are mine now."

"Then you'd better get back down here and use them."

"Yes, jagi."

You giggle as he lowers his lips to yours again.

How to survive a night at a cabin without heat? Three words: Jung Wooyoung's lips.

taglist: //

[gourmand-cookie]

Can I get HollyBerry with a mercenary!reader? Maybe reader has a hint of questionable morality? 🙏

You know the way that I feel

Title taken from lyrics in Glass Animals - Cocoa Hooves! i did my best with this 😩

You weren't the kind to rush into danger just because it was right. Why risk your life for a stranger? It was better to keep to yourself, only offer your services if there's a price.

That was your way of life.

So, how in the ovens did you end up following this reckless Huntress into the very thing you swore was not worth your time?!

Tags: Mercenary!Reader, Hollyberry Cookie/Reader, Canon Compliant (During HBC's Unnamed Huntress Days), Morally Grey-ish!Reader, Strangers to Friends to Lovers(?), Fluff & Humor, Bickering, Love at First Fight

You met the Huntress on an unfortunate day for you, a bounty hunt gone wrong, leaving you stuck upside down, caught in a trap that you would've got down from eventually.

It's just that your brooding over falling for such an obvious fake out was interrupted by the sounds of snapping twigs and rustling bush, unable to do anything but prepare as best as you could despite the jam rushing to your head.

You don't remember much of what happened next, you blame the jam rush messing with your head, all you remembered was her swinging and you swung back.

Until it turned into a rather physical game of patty cake complete that left you dizzy and eventually falling to the ground as the Huntress cut the rope as she intended.

"Haha! You've got quite the reflexes, my friend!" She had laughed back then, grin wide and confident and it was only then did your eyecings focus on her arms, not a scratch in sight.

Meanwhile, you feel as if your own dough may just crack with one more hit. Of course, you swing with your legs this time, common sense, really.

The Huntress let it hit, a dull thwack echoing through the shrubbery, you don't even think she stumbled.

Oh, crumbs. She was more than you can handle.

"Who are you?" You had asked, incredulous and wary, scrambling away from the newly deemed threat to your days of solitude.

Somehow, that's what threw her off, a hand fiddling her pink braid as she pondered for a name.

"I'm... Nobody, just a Huntress!"

You can't believe it, bested by a 'Nobody' of all people? Yeah, no, she was suspicious.

"You're really bad at hiding." You ignored her spluttering denials to squint and racked your mind to wonder who this was.

"You've got experience, years of it." The cookie winced and that was all you need to confirm that you were right, "Nobody fights with confidence like that unless they know their limits."

"But you're also lacking in subterfuge, you're the one always in the front lines, aren't you?"

"Ah, well..."

"Is that a disguise? You look like a noble on their first escapade."

"Now, hold on–"

"Oh, you're definitely of high standing–"

(And that was how you had gained compensation from the very founder of the Hollyberry kingdom.

Not that you knew at that point then. No, that moment was best left behind closed doors, realizing you just conned an ancient ruler out of pettiness.)

And somehow, she just never left. Maybe, if you knew from the start, you wouldn't have offered to have your silence bought with just a few mugs and a room in the inn.

Somehow, you found yourself enjoying Definitely Not Hollyberry's loud and close company after years of adventuring alone.

That didn't mean there weren't any mishaps.

("Please, keep the gold." You gawked as the Huntress all but gave back the reward you'd worked hard for, all because a few of the villagers were struggling.

You didn't protest back then, reputation gets you far in the life of a mercenary and an unpleasant worker wasn't one many were keen on hiring.

"That was supposed to pay for our stay in the next town." She doesn't reply at first, continuing her stride along the path, unbothered by the howls of Cake Hounds in the thicket.

"They need it, my friend." You huffed, hackles raised still.

"We needed it too." A heavy hand slaps against your back and you don't trip this time, you're getting used to her strength, bracing for the Huntress to pull you close with a soft grin.

"Oh, cheer up! We can just camp out here! It'll be fun, I've still got some berry juice for us to share."

You swore you only relented at the mention of that sweet juice and nothing more.

Later on, you have to relent and admit that the stars looked better out here, twinkling above the both of you as you shared a cup and shared stories of each other's feats.)

But you settled into an easy routine of camaraderie. Things were good, wanderlust beckoned the two of you everywhere and nowhere.

Until it lead her back home.

You had no stake in this, the contest didn't interest you, the dragon wasn't your usual target.

You weren't the kind to rush into danger just because it was right. Why risk your life for a stranger? It was better to keep to yourself, only offer your services if there's a price.

That was your way of life.

So, how in the ovens did you end up following this reckless Huntress into the very thing you swore was not worth your time?!

"Hollyberry!" The Queen Mother looked shock at your arrival, quickly escalating into a welcoming joy, grin fierce and battle ready.

"Have you ever fought a dragon, my friend?!" You joined her side, giving coverage to the Knight and Princess who readied their own stances.

"Not particularly!"

"Well, we're about to!"

"Wonderful, just great, you owe me so much for this!"

The sound of her laugh is one you've heard perhaps a thousand times and you'd like to hear it a thousand more.

"After this battle, let's have a feast!"

[pascaloverx]

DEVIL (+18)

Summary: You are a demonic creature, capable of doing whatever you please, whenever you wish. Your goal on Earth is to terrorize as many souls as possible. Until, in a small community, you find the perfect victim for your mischievous games: Father Charlie Mayhew.

Author's Note: Honestly, I’m not sure if this story will have more than one chapter, but it will contain adult content and inappropriate language. Violence may also appear. Frankly, I just needed to write something about this character portrayed by Nicholas Alexander Chavez. The character and others, apart from Y/N, are not my creation. They belong to the Grotesquerie (2024) universe created by Ryan Murphy. To anyone reading this story, I hope you enjoy it.

ONE THREE

TWO

The man knelt before you, pleading for more time. He tried to bargain, claiming he was on the verge of creating a scheme that would corrupt countless souls for you.

"My dear, don’t waste your breath. Our pact was sealed long ago; I used you for the purposes I desired, and now Satan wants your soul. It’s quite simple—it won’t even hurt. It was pleasurable while it lasted, wasn’t it? I gave you every sinful delight imaginable. Now, it’s time to pay the price," you murmur as you crouch down to speak face to face. The man, now sobbing, desperate to avoid death, shakily points a gun at you. His hand trembles as he aims it at your face, and you can’t help but find it almost endearing that he’s so determined to live.

"It wasn’t going to hurt. I wasn’t planning to harm you—I was going to leave that to the demon in charge of your soul down in Hell. But you’ve just lost that privilege," you say, your voice calm as the man frantically throws objects at you, screaming for help. And then you touch him and immediately he catches fire. The flames cover his entire body, as he agonizes and screams in pain, almost roaring for help. When you get bored of seeing a man like that, you touch him again; and it's as if he had never been burned.

"What have you done to me, you demon?" he yells, charging at you like a raging bull, which only makes you laugh.

"I gave you a little preview of your future, darling. Now, brace yourself for your next adventure." You mockingly reply, and before he can reach you, you make him vanish, sending him to his rightful place. Being a demon certainly has its ups and downs, but truthfully, you're growing weary of it all.

Perhaps it’s a good time to visit your favorite priest for confession. It's been a week since you last made contact. You slip into a red lace lingerie set and throw a black coat over it. Naturally, you can’t forget your rosary—it’s essential for keeping appearances. With a final touch, you teleport to Father Charlie Mayhew’s location.

You appear in his room, where he’s half-naked, engaging in self-flagellation while reciting scripture. "Ephesians 6:11: 'Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes,'” he says, inflicting pain upon himself, still unaware of your presence. His back was covered in cut marks, bleeding everywhere, his eyes closed as he felt the pain rack his flesh.

“Father Mayhew, need some help? There are parts of your back that remain untouched,” you say, catching him off guard. Leaning casually against a piece of furniture near a crucifix on the wall, you smile wickedly as he jumps in shock. The towel wrapped around him nearly slips, the only thing keeping him covered. Your eyes glint with amusement, knowing you’ve disrupted his supposed sanctity once again.

"Are you really here?" Father Mayhew asks, standing up, now nearly face to face with you. His gaze is intense, as though he had been thinking about you long before you appeared in his room. You move around the room slowly, admiring the details, your movements deliberate as you subtly encircle him, using your body language to create a sense of dominance. His eyes follow your every step, conflicted between fear and desire.

"How could I not be here, my dear Father, when you bring me such satisfaction?" you say, your voice laced with dark amusement. "I’ve heard you’ve kept your sinful habits, wishing only for my return. I believe you’ve earned a reward." Your fingers lightly trace over the fresh wounds on his back, sending shivers through him, eliciting a soft groan from his lips. His eyes stay locked on yours as you slowly remove your coat, revealing the red lace lingerie beneath, a sinful gift crafted solely for his eyes. His breath hitches as he takes in the sight, the temptation too powerful to resist, his internal conflict laid bare in the silence between you.

"Galatians 5:16: 'So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh,'” Father Mayhew murmurs, moving closer to you, his eyes fixed on your chest, tracing every curve and detail of your body. If you weren’t a demon, his gaze might have made you feel shy.

“I’m usually the one who hears confessions, but I must confess to you... I longed to see you again, with a fervor far beyond what is permitted,” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he stands mere inches from your face, as if yearning for a kiss, the tension between you palpable. You regard him with playful amusement, as if he were your favorite source of entertainment.

"Confess to me, Father. Show me what you desire, and prove what you're capable of," you say, your voice laced with a subtle challenge as your fingers brush against his chest. He inhales sharply at your touch, his eyes reflecting the battle between restraint and temptation. The air between you is thick with tension, and despite his struggle, you sense the pull of his desires growing stronger.

The priest kneels before you, gazing up as though seeking your blessing for survival. "Forgive me, in all Your glory, Lord. For I am devoted to You and should turn away from sinful desires, striving to be a good man," he says, yet his eyes remain fixed on you, laden with a sinful intensity. It’s as though his words are meant for God, but his confession is entirely yours. The feeling of power surges through you. Your hands glide over his face, which now seems to exude a wickedly sinful allure. Your fingers lightly trace his full lips, the touch both tender and commanding.

"You must be devoted to me as well. Embrace your darker side, Father. Do not hide it behind your robes. Accept who you truly are," you whisper, your hand gliding along his neck as his head tilts back, eyes wide and fixed on you.

"And who am I, demon?" Father Mayhew asks, his voice trembling slightly, as if he genuinely seeks the answer. His gaze is locked on you, watching intently as you kneel before him, the tension between his devotion and his desire thick in the air.

"You are mine. You belong to me—not only your body, but your soul as well. Punish yourself as much as you wish, but never forget, it is I whom you must worship and fear," you whisper softly, standing before him, your presence enveloping him. The weight of your words lingers in the air, both a command and a promise, as his gaze remains locked on yours, torn between submission and resistance.

"For the love of God, you are the most tempting creature I have ever encountered. How am I to remain pure in your presence?" Father Mayhew exclaims, his voice filled with helplessness as he gazes at you, nearly unraveling before you.

"Father, you're taking the Lord's name in vain... what a naughty boy," you respond with a playful laugh, lowering yourself slightly to kiss his neck. His body shudders under your touch, a wave of tension and desire sweeping through him as your lips brush his skin. Then his fingers trail down to the underside of your lingerie. You lift yourself up a little to help him touch your pussy over your lingerie, biting your lip when you feel his cold fingers touch there. It doesn't take long for him to tear the fabric and finally massage your wet pussy, making you moan softly. His fingers touching you, gently massaging your clit as you touch his strong arms, encouraging him to continue fingering you.

"Say that you are mine as well, demon. Tell me that you are under the spell of what I do to you. Beg me for forgiveness," Father Mayhew demands, his voice taking on a more assertive tone, as if he wishes for you to confess your own sinful desire.

You move toward him, pulling him close, and without hesitation, your lips meet his in a heated kiss. It’s a battle of passion, a wordless exchange of defiance and submission. Neither of you yields, tongues entwining in a struggle for dominance, each unwilling to surrender to the other.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," you moan against his lips, the words flowing like a dark and twisted prayer, as if reciting a beautiful, forbidden verse.

"I forgive you..." he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as his lips crash against yours in a heated, desperate kiss. It's as if he needs the taste of you more than he needs to breathe, each movement of his mouth against yours betraying the battle within him, torn between what he knows is wrong and the temptation he can no longer resist. His hands caress your body, stopping at your thighs, and as he grabs them, you open your legs so he can penetrate you.

"Father Mayhew, are you there?" A woman's voice calls from outside, her knock firm against the door. You and Father Mayhew lock eyes, both silently exchanging glances that hold the weight of unspoken words. He knows your nature, the dangerous allure you carry, and in this moment, he acts on instinct. As he tries to compose himself, he quickly places his hand over your mouth, silencing any response that might expose you both. His expression is tense, a silent plea for discretion, as the tension in the room grows thick.

"Yes, Sister Megan. Do you need something? I'm just finishing getting ready," Father Mayhew calls out, his voice steady despite the situation. He glances at you, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes. It’s clear that, though he might never openly admit it, he's waiting for whatever mischief you might stir. He craves it—your demonic influence, your unpredictable nature—and the subtle tension in the air reveals that he is far more enticed by the chaos you bring than he dares to acknowledge. You then use one hand to masturbate Father Mayhew, who moans in response to the sensation of your hand touching his cock, which is already covered in pre-cum. Your fingers running the length of Father Mayhew's cock as he closes his eyes feeling you touch him.

"I would love your opinion on an article I'm considering publishing. It's quite intriguing, I must admit. It discusses some recent murders that are likely related to the church. I thought we could discuss it over a meal," Sister Megan says, her enthusiasm palpable. Father Mayhew shuts his eyes tightly, his hand still covering your mouth as he stifles a few muffled groans. The tension in the room is thick, a stark contrast to Sister Megan’s casual demeanor, as he struggles to regain his composure, caught between his duty and the forbidden thrill of your presence.

"Wait for me at the church entrance... I will, I will be there in a few minu...tes, now please allow me to dress in silence," he stammers, urgency lacing his voice as he attempts to gather himself. His eyes flicker to yours, a mix of desire and desperation evident as he fights to maintain his composure while you continue to captivate him. Your hand closed around the contour of his cock, moving back and forth, sometimes touching the head of his cock. He is on the verge of cumming, one hand under your mouth, the other under your breast, squeezing your breast, causing you a pleasurable sensation.

"I'll be waiting for you, Father," Sister Megan says before leaving, her footsteps echoing in the silence. You couldn’t care less about her departure. The tension in the room escalates as you release your grip on him, locking eyes with the Padre. He removes his hand from your lips, frustration etched across his features.

"Why did you stop?" Father Mayhew asks, a sultry grunt escaping his lips, revealing his longing for your sweet touch. His gaze searches for you, desperate and yearning, as he grapples with the overwhelming desire you stir within him. The air crackles with unspoken words, the thrill of the forbidden intensifying the moment.

"Next time, give me more importance. Your attention must be entirely mine, just like your devotion, but right now, neither belongs to me. I'm sure you can call Sister Megan in here to assist you if you wish. Until our next encounter," you say, your tone tinged with irritation as you reprimand him with a piercing gaze.

As he reaches out to touch your face, murmuring a soft, "I'm sorry," it’s too late. You vanish into thin air once again, leaving him frustrated and uncertain, haunted by the question of whether you will truly return. The echo of your presence lingers in the room, a reminder of the intoxicating temptation he now craves.

[vickytaa]

𝕯𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘? 𝕻.2.

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔶: A new video in collaboration with Sam and Colby, where the group enters an abandoned church full of mysteries. What starts as an exciting adventure quickly turns into a nightmare. Y/n will have terrifying nightmares and must fight her fears after entering the darkness. Part 1.

"She... The girl was one of the few people who saw a nun, even though the place is abandoned. Some say they couldn't stop seeing her when they looked in the mirror, others say it was just that moment, and others say they stopped seeing her but strange things happened around them. What they did notice was that there was a kind of pattern, when the person was afraid, the nun's curse was even stronger, as if..."

"As if it was feeding on fear." Colby finished.

My body began to shake desperately, fear coursing through my veins. I tried to look at Matt, who was also scared but was trying his best not to break down there.

We all looked at each other, knowing that the best thing was to keep me company. "Honey, you..." Matt tried to calm me down, but I interrupted him, "Stay with me. Please, Matt," I begged, grabbing his shirt as if I would die if I didn't.

Matt hugged me tighter as I rested my head more and more against his chest. "I was scared, Matt." He pulled away a little, but just enough to see my face. My eyes were full of panic, even though almost an hour had passed since the incident. It broke him to see me like this, because normally I was the strong one, the brave one, but now? now I was scared.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're with me now, I'm not going anywhere." Matt said. The words hung in the air as I tried to reach them, to believe them. I knew Matt wasn't going to leave my side, but I was scared of what might happen. What if I go back to the darkness?

Matt sat me on his lap, to have me even closer, showering me with small kisses to try to calm me down. My body began to tremble as my mind replayed the scenarios over and over again, each time feeling more real. I tried to push those thoughts away to drown myself in Matt's love and security.

Another hour passed, and the event was almost forgotten, at the back of my mind. I was laughing at a joke Matt made to make me feel something other than fear. "Matt, I think... I think we should continue with the video," I said, now sure that nothing else was going to happen.

Or so I thought...

We started looking for the others until we found them about to do the 'Estes method' where the person doing it is blindfolded and listens to words coming out of a 'special' radio, through headphones.

It was my favorite part of Sam and Colby's videos, but I still felt a little scared to get back into the game. So, when they asked who was going to do it, I immediately said no.

"I'll do it," Matt said, "I'll go with you," Chris followed. We all agreed and started with the method.

"If any person or being is here with us, please communicate through the devices," Colby said.

Silence.

"I repeat, if any being is here with us, communicate through these devices."

Silence, again.

We all started asking questions every now and then, but with no answers, as if neither Chris nor Matt could connect with the entities here.

Few insignificant words came out despite the long time they were there. Colby touched Chris's shoulder while I touched Matt's.

When they took off the equipment, we explained that it hadn't worked well, and they replied that we could try again. Despite the fear, I didn't want to miss out, for me, the best part of the video, so I decided to be brave and offered to do it.

At first, everyone hesitated, but after insisting a little more, they let me.

I sat in the wooden chair, with the headphones and blindfold on. Matt rested his hand on my thigh to assure me that he was there.

"Death," I heard the neutral voice from the headphones, "Death," I repeated exactly the same, interpreting the tone.

"Father," "Father."

The words weren't making much sense, but I was sure they were answering the questions the others were asking.

Shortly after, I heard a small, gruff laugh, which made me jump a little in fear, as I felt it in my right ear, as if a man was there. "A small laugh, like an adult man," I said.

The meaningless words quickly reappeared, "Fire," "Broken," "Eight," among others.

Suddenly, that gruff-voiced man's laugh was heard again, "The man's laugh again," I said, now a little scared, since normally words or things don't repeat.

Matt's hand was still there, motionless, squeezing my leg every now and then.

The radio went silent, no more words came out of there, until a deep voice said, "Are you afraid of the dark?"

My body tensed quickly, my hands began to shake. It was the same voice as before. I'd had enough.

I desperately took off the headphones and threw them on the floor. My hands traveled to the back of my head, to untangle the knot and take off the blindfold. I quickly opened my eyes, and there...

There was nothing.

Only darkness.

"No, please, not again!" I started to scream desperately, the air trapped in my throat. My eyes filled with tears and poured down my face. My head was killing me, and I slowly started to feel dizzy, my legs were slowly giving out and my heart was getting tired of beating.

I closed my eyes but quickly opened them at the feeling of being shaken. "Y/N!" Matt said, his face was practically inches from mine, but I could read his panic from miles away.

My mind was clouded, as I did nothing. The tears were falling down my face, but I couldn't feel them anymore. Nor did I feel that warmth of Matt when he hugged me.

I was exhausted. My legs felt like I'd run a marathon, and breathing was as hard as if I were at the top of the highest mountain.

"Let's go home," Matt said, hugging me and carrying me to the car. I wanted to stay there to finish the video they'd been planning for months, feeling guilty for ruining it, but at that point, I was so weak I couldn't even form a word.

Matt said goodbye to everyone and took me to the car. He quickly started it and began to drive. The tiredness was killing me, and since I got tired of fighting it, unfortunately, I lost and fell fast asleep.

The softness and comfort of my bed woke me up. "Matt..." I tried to look for him but my eyelids were too tired to open.

"I'm here, love. Let's sleep," Matt said, gently wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me as close as possible.

Hours passed and the tiredness never came. I really tried to fall asleep, to follow Matt, but I just couldn't.

I decided that the best thing to do would be to get some water and go back to bed, it was simple and quick, right?

Right?

The scenes of today were in the back of my mind, while the glass of water was in front of everything. I slowly got out of his embrace and got up to go to the kitchen. The house was silent, which indicated that Nick and Chris hadn't returned yet. I felt a little bad for ruining their video, but I also didn't want to stay there to continue suffering.

The lights were off, a cold breeze passed, sending shivers down my spine. There was a strange tension in the air, as if something was going to happen, but I decided to ignore it.

I grabbed the glass and poured myself some cold water, trying to calm my nighttime thoughts. I was already out of there, I was with Matt, there was nothing to worry about. Or was there?

I turned to leave the glass on the counter, and there I saw her.

Kneeling in front of me, the nun again.

Panic and fear ran through my veins. I was frozen, not knowing what to do. I dropped the glass on the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces, but I couldn't hear it anymore, I could only hear the nun's sobs, getting louder and louder.

"Matt! Matt, please!!" I started to scream desperately, but for some strange reason, I couldn't hear anything. No matter how hard I screamed, nothing came out of my mouth.

I grabbed my throat in desperation. My eyes wide open, I watched as the nun slowly stood up in front of me, clearly towering over me.

Her burned hands detached from her face, moving slowly towards my neck.

Tears streamed down my eyes without stopping, my body completely frozen, all my strength trying to scream or get something to wake Matt up, but nothing helped.

The nun's hands, cold and dusty, began to squeeze my throat, cutting off my breath.

This was it, there was nothing else to do. All my strength spent, my soul slowly leaving my body.

𝕴 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘.

𝐕 -

[workingbynyx]

heey, saw that you were open for requests so I would like to ask for a romcom jason todd x reader where the reader is flirty and has a crush on Red Hood, but has no idea that he is Jason Todd (their regular at the cafe they own) so he gets kinda flustered everytime he sees the reader when he is going to get coffee

(hope you can understand this, english is not my first language)

Beautiful Stranger — Jason Todd x GN!Reader

↷ summary — after a faithful encounter with red hood one night ago, you quickly developed a crush on the masked vigilante. but, would you believe if the cute regular at your coffee shop was him? ˎˊ˗

↷ pairing — jason todd x gn!reader ˎˊ˗

↷ genre — romance, comedy, a bunch of fluff ˎˊ˗

↷ warning/s — none! other than a few curse words, use of y/n and possible grammar errors ˎˊ˗

↷ a/n — hi anon! dw i LOVEEEE that request sm, i hope you have fun reading this as much as i had writing it ^^ i might've switched it up a bit in the process so i'm so sorry for that 😭 i also figured i'd use the wayne family adventures version of jason for this one since it kinda fits the whole theme of this fic hihi and he turned into such a simp in this so it might be ooc at some point help, enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗

"what the hell are you doing here walkin' around late at night?" the masked man said in between short breaths after taking down a robber that's been following you since you closed down the café for tonight. you were lucky enough to have 'the' red hood on patrol and save you from a potential robbery. the thought of him guiding, if not stalking, you and jumping on the thug as soon as he's about to make a move somehow made your heart skip at the act of service...if its even counted with them now laying on the ground unconscious.

what you didn't know is this man was jason, the regular you'd have come in around 9 to 10 am to have his morning coffee and sit around the shop until lunch. you always observed the guy to be somewhat mysterious but endearing at the same time, he'd always ask for the same coffee and pastry combo over and over again, not bothering to change his order. he became quite an easy customer to remember at some point, other than the fact that he had white streaked hair which made him attractive and memorable to you. in fact, everytime he came in all you had to do was ask "the usual?" and jason'll nod along then go back to his corner, mouthing a silent 'thank you' when you deliver his treat and maybe even strike up a conversation if he's in the mood.

but right now, jason is simply the infamous masked red vigilante who just kicked some ass for your own sake.

"my apartment is this way, how was i supposed to know robbers lurked around here" you replied in return, tucking in one of your hands inside the pocket of your coat as you froze in front of him. jason began approaching you and stopped when you came face to face, the height difference between the two of you forced you to tilt your head upwards— the all-white lens of his helmet staring down at you. "watch the news, its not safe out here. take the route to your right next time, and bring at least a pepper spray with you" if only his mask didn't have a built in voice changer you would've known seconds ago it's him.

you were stunned for a moment as he listed down things that'd probably go straight out your other ear. "y'know, for someone i just met you're oddly protective over me" you finally spoke, a hint of mischief underlying your tone. that's when you begun wondering who is it under that costume. is he cute? is he what you're imagining him to be like?

jason, on the other hand, blinked a couple times out of confusion if it weren't for his get up covering his entire features. "what?" he said. "nothing, it's just...i didn't think a vigilante would care so much for a civilian like me" you answered, an innocent smile creeping up your lips like an idiot in love. "its my job. obviously i should look out for the people of Gotham, shouldn't i?" he crossed his arms across his chest, covering the red insignia of his bulletproof suit.

"obviously, i guess i didn't have the special treatment like i thought" you practically said with a slight pout forming when you look up to him, going silent for a moment. "do you really tell all the people you save to bring pepper spray or just me? i wanna know if i got the special advisory from you at least" you added as a tease, earning a slight frustrated groan from jason afterwards. "i don't have time for this—" "well I do" you bravely chimed in without missing a beat. "i got all night even"

the sigh jason had let out was almost comical, he took a step backward when it's really just him starting to get flustered by his barista seemingly flirting with his other identity, who would've thought you'd find him attractive? not jason that's for sure. "get home safe, take the route i told you if you wanna keep your wallet stocked" then he noticed the small cut on your cheekbone, it must've been from the pocket knife the thug had.

he briefly pointed at it, "you got something" you lifted your fingers to search for it only to be met with a slight sting when you did, a small amount of blood staining your index finger. you hissed at the feeling, squinting your eye when it lingered for a bit. "calm down, its not that serious" jason said. "some alcohol and bandaid should do the trick" and you took his advice, you certainly wouldn't allow yourself to show up at work with a random cut to your face.

"y'know why don't you help and patch me up at this point? i could use some assistance" and you still had the nerve to decide and toy around with him for a bit...to see how far the both of you are willing to go. to be fair, you just wanted to know who was it under that mask— this could potentially lead to it if you're lucky. "what are you, 8?" jason replied. "no but i'm surely a 10" you winked playfully, the corner of your lip turning into a smirk as you watched his body language intently.

"jesus christ.." jason muttered under his breath, starting to walk away from this situation he's stuck in. "aw c'mon! that was a smooth line admit it! oh okay— well, thank you red..man! i'll see you soon...i think" you yelled from the same position you're in, seeing his tall frame go farther in the distance. jason didn't say nothing in return, but he kept a secret smile under his mask as he disappeared from sight.

its been a couple weeks since your last encounter with red hood, you took most of his suggestions that night and started going the safer route when you had to be on the closing shift. since then, you've been at the lower risk of getting robbed again thanks to him and his unforgettable presence. but it's not only you who hasn't stopped thinking about that night, jason was still trying to relive the moment of his barista basically flirting with him. he figured you would've known it's him within seconds...guess not.

it didn't bother him, it's the thought of your reaction to him being behind the helmet is what. jason wouldn't blame you though, imagine how shocking it would be to find out your regular is a vigilante at night. it's like betrayal but in a different form. he usually doesn't care about revealing his identity to the people he knows, but when it came to you it's different. he's conscious for the first time, he was overthinking things and coming up with plans how to avoid it from happening in many ways possible so he stopped visiting the shop for a while. it's becoming weird, you two weren't even close to begin with— so why was he stressing so much about it?

while jason spent most of his nights in Gotham thinking about you, you started noticing his frequent visits slowly turned little to nothing at all. you found yourself always anticipating the sound of the bell when the doors open to each customer only to be met with disappointment when he didn't come through. and today seems to be the same, you kept glancing over the glass doors hoping you'd see a tall, slightly scary and muscular man enter...until he finally did.

you feel your heart skip a beat seeing him after a while, the same feeling you got a couple nights ago but you didn't mind. you quickly went over the cashier, mentally ready to take his order with a smile. "hey! welcome back, i didn't see you in here for a while" you greeted when he stopped right at the counter. jason wore a red hoodie and a brown leather jacket layering over it, he must've liked wearing that a lot. "oh...uh yeah," he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, trying to come up with something. "i got caught up in work. i didn't have the time to stop buy for coffee" that's a lie. "but i'm here now" is he really?

"oh, you must've been really busy then?" you added, listening to his reason. "definitely yeah," lies once again. jason sucked in a breath, looking away to get a glimpse of the menu like he really is getting anything else other than an americano and cookies. "got anything new f'me?" he asked which took you by surprise. "you're not getting the usual anymore?" you said. "eh well, it gets old after a while" he says.

"that's fair, well we got new cake flavors if you wanna try them out. what would you like?" you then tap a few things into the register to input his order to which he asks for a latte and dark chocolate cake. you tell him his total and he pays for it, giving him his change and receipt. jason mouths a thank you and quickly goes to sit on one of the chairs by the window where you can still see him right in the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at your direction while you made his coffee which is strange since he never did that.

jason on the other hand seems to be more fidgety, he figured he'd tell you the truth today after you get off of work but it's easier said than done as he's starting to think it was a bad idea. his frequent visits gave him the advantage to eventually learn about your schedule and today happens to be an early leave. he mentally hyped himself up, hunched over the chair with his elbows resting on both his thighs while he waited.

a few minutes passed by and you eventually finished making everything, putting the small plate and fork on a plate along with his drink as you brought it over to his table. you slightly crouched down to carefully place the plate in front of him followed by the drink and fork, jason waited til you were done and looked up to you. he notices the cut still there on the side of your cheek, seemingly in the healing process now. he cleared his throat and nudged his head toward you. "you alright? you got a slit right there" he started.

"hm? oh this. it's uh, it's nothing. i almost got mugged a few nights ago and had to hold up a pretty decent fight" you explained, clutching the tray near to your chest. "oh? well, did you win at least?" jason laid back into the chair, still looking up towards you to see if you'll mention about the 'hero' that saved you. "i guess in some way yeah, someone showed up and kicked some ass within seconds" you said, a smile slowly forming at the thought of red hood creeping your mind once again. "it's a shame i didn't get his name though, he seems like a nice guy"

"...who did you think it was?" jason started, a lump in his throat started forming the more the conversation went on. he waited for an answer, desperate to know what you think and what could be the reason why you did all that during that night. "i have no clue, but he had a red helmet and a pretty sick suit! i'm not a fan of vigilante but that dude's doing it for me. i wanted to ask him out but he looks out of it, he might've been tired so i don't blame him" a slight blush creeped into jason's cheek when he felt it heat up at what you said, he found it amusing that you were practically talking about him while having no idea at the same time.

"that's..that's great" he nodded along, clearing his throat once more as he focused on the food in front of him then back to you. "i uh, i also wanted to ask" your ears perked up at this, pursing your lips into a thin smile. "what time are you...getting off?" he finally says even if he already knew the answer. you were taken back by this, your brows raising at the sudden question. "oh uhm, probably in an hour or so. i have an early leave today so it might be even less than that" you started. "why'd you ask?"

"i..." his voice trailed off, he doesn't seem to get the words out without it sounding like he's asking you out— well, technically he is. "nothing, just curious that's all" he gave a stiff smile as he reached for his fork. "oh okay well, i'll be at the counter if you need me" you said with a smile as you walked away before one of your managers yell at you again for making unneccessary small talk.

jason waited until you went back before releasing a disappointed sigh at himself, he sets down the fork and covered his face with both of his hands— feeling embarrassed at how stupid he sounds asking the question and completely fumbling it over. 'you just had to fuck it up, did you?' he thought to himself. he's never gonna get this over with.

a few minutes passed by and you see jason finishing up his snack, the small plate of cake now left with smudges of frosting and small bits of crumbs and the cup of coffee almost emptied out. you were relieved that he liked the new menu item after months of eating the same thing, it might be the start of something new for him you think. although his question from earlier never left your mind, you tried searching for answers and it all came down to him possibly asking you out.

but why would he? he's way out of your league and he probably knows it, why would he lower his standards to a café worker when he could have anyone out there to go on dates with. was he messing with you or is he trying to give signals? it could explain why he always visited your café and not the famous ones in the city but still, you didn't wanna assume. maybe he's just trying to be friends.

you didn't even realize that jason was already standing on the other side of the counter while you were lost in your thoughts doing the dishes, you heard him call out to you which snapped you out of it. you turn to look behind and see him there with a sheepish smile. you quickly closed the faucet and wiped your hands off as you went up to him, "hey! what's up?"

"nothing, i just wanted to say i'm gonna get going. i still have a few things to catch up on back home" "oh that's fine! goodluck with whatever you're up to then" you cheered him on aa he slightly chuckled, the sound of hearing his laughter for the first time did something to you and you didn't know what it was that made it so attractive. "thanks, i'll see you around" jason finally says with a thin smile.

you waved goodbye and went back to what you're doing as you're trying to shake off the lingering feeling that you just felt, "and y/n" you heard him call out to you again. "make good use of the spray, that's a special advisory" jason said proudly, making his way out of the shop before you could even process what he said

"thank you! I'll ma— wait..." then it finally registered. "WHAT?!"

[fluff-n-cookies]

NOT PROOF READ

Gender neutral

Something something Izuku Midoriya and the best friend that he likes to think that he's better than.(Angst with NO HAPPY ENDNING to quell the ache in my heart)

Izuku Midoriya and his best friend, one with NO quirk, and NO other friends. they're pretty stupid too, the type of person with B's and C'son their report card.

they don't have that many dreams, they're simply just "Enjoying" school.

like what type of a person does that? do you have no passion? No light in your life? you're just there without thought, why? weird.

but regardless, Izuku keeps them around, they're nice to have when Kacchan's being an asshole, so then he's not the only one that's being yelled at.

They're also quirkless, equally as useless as he.

they're fun to hang with... sometimes.

I mean... they're kind of annoying, they laugh too loud looking back, and they talk a lot about themselves, and don't really do much other than complain and gossip, but beggars can't be choosers! this is the only friend that he has, an annoying friend is better than no friends right?

that is until, All might, when he comes into the picture.

and suddenly the world's so much bigger than those Friday night gaming sessions on the living room Xbox, it's bigger than going to merch pop ups to buy limited edition All might figurines and getting signatures from smaller hero's.

it's bigger, so much bigger, than comforting the other about being quirkless and useless.

And suddenly, it's about training, it's about learning, it's about growing into a hero. it's about fighting for civilians and keeping those who you love safe.

It's about UA.

It's about the USJ attack and fighting Shigaraki.

It's about the Sports Festival.

It's about One For All and All For One.

It's about Stain.

But more so, it's about Ochako and Iida, about Todoroki and Tsu and Momo-

and suddenly, you aren't a part of him anymore.

you aren't the person he comes running to when Kacchan calls him Useless, he doesn't come over to talk about the newest emerging hero's.

there aren't pictures of you on the wall, they've been replaced by new pictures of his adventures at UA. The collectibles that you bought him for Christmas pushed to the back of his shelves to make room for little All might themed tickets that Ochako found at the dollar store.

you doesn't text you much anymore, when you do shoot him a

'hey Izuku! we haven't talked in a while, wanna go to that one coffee shop to catch up? :3'

it's met with

'I'm sorry I'm replying so late! I was with Todoroki and Iida training. I'll text you later.'

he never texted you later. or ever again really.

because you're here, still quirkless, still useless, still so very hurt by all those things that Kacchan said.

You're here, not a hero, you're a civilian, no dreams and no goals, only you.

and without that green haired boy that grew up with you, he left, and now he's saving the world.

He forgot your birthday.

[walkingstackofbooks]

If you're taking prompts right now how would you feel about Julian accidentally damaging Kukalaka and somehow Garak finds it and repairs it for Julian.

Sending love <3

HELLO HI IT'S FINALLY HERE :D This fic has been one of the most difficult things I've written yet - believe me when I say I have laboured over this for hours - but it's been a whole lot of fun, too, so thank you for the prompt :D It's immensely satisfying to finally be able to present you with "A Bear Like Me" <3 <3 <3 (Also on AO3!)

His shift was over, but Julian still had one more patient to attend to, back in his quarters. Kukulaka had, at long last, been safely returned to him, but as he had been putting the bear back in his place of pride on the desk, Julian had spotted that some of the stitches in his side had started to fray. Now, he was looking forward to being able to treat his old friend with some long-overdue, tender, loving care. 

"I'm home!" he called as he entered his quarters – not just for Kukulaka's benefit. At some point during the last few weeks, his weekly lunch with Garak had turned into dinner (he was marginally less likely to be interrupted at this time), which had then turned into multiple dinners, until it was no longer surprising to return home and find the tailor sitting on his sofa, usually embroidering some creation or other. 

"That much is evident, Doctor," Garak replied acerbically, but Julian could recognise the fond twinkle behind the Cardassian's eyes. "Is it really necessary to state the obvious every time you come through that door?"

Julian slung his bag down on the sofa, shooting a grin at Garak. "Necessary? No. Although, now I know how much it irritates you..."

"You are insufferable, Doctor," Garak declared.

"And yet, you're still here, suffering me. At this point, I think you'll find it's your own fault, Mister Garak."

Garak's eyes followed him as he walked across the room to retrieve his small needlework kit. That, too, he placed on the sofa, before going to get Kukulaka. 

"Sewing, Doctor?"

"Yes, actually. I noticed someone," he said, giving the bear an affectionate pat on the head, "was looking a little worse for—"

He stopped abruptly. Having now picked up Kukulaka, he could not see the worn-out stitches that he'd noticed yesterday: in fact, he could no longer see any stitches at all. Every trace of Julian's surgeries over the years, from his first, clumsy efforts to his later, more refined sutures had seemingly disappeared overnight, leaving Julian with a strangely hollow pit in the bottom of his stomach.

"Garak," he said, keeping his back to the tailor as he struggled to keep his voice normal. "Did you do this?"

"Indeed I did, my dear Doctor." Julian hated that he could hear the smile in Garak's voice. “I, too, couldn’t help noticing what a state your bear was in, and since it is my area of expertise…”

“That’s— That’s very kind of you,” replied Julian quietly. The awareness that he ought to be sounding more grateful rubbed against his insides like sandpaper, but the heartbeat pounding in his ears was making it difficult to concentrate on keeping his emotions in check.

Garak hadn’t seemed to notice. “I think you’ll find he’s in perfect condition,” he continued. “Better, even. He’ll likely not need stitches again – unless he winds up on some peculiar adventure, I suppose. But your bear is not so foolhardy as you, my dear.”

Garak’s tone was light, but there was no mockery to it; he was speaking about Kukulaka the same way Julian did, and at any other time, Julian would have loved him for it. Right now, all Julian could do was shrug, replying only with a short, “I suppose.”

There was a pause. “I don’t mean to imply that your handiwork was bad,” redirected Garak. “In fact, I was rather impressed, Doctor, at the way you’d kept him together for all these years. He wasn’t the sturdiest fellow.”

“I used to call him my first patient.” The words left Julian unexpectedly, and he immediately wished they hadn’t, because now he could feel the dam beginning to burst and he couldn’t – he couldn’t – let Garak see how stupidly emotional he was getting over this small kindness.

He pivoted around, gripping Kukulaka close as he walked back to the door. “I left something in the infirmary,” he said, still not looking at Garak. “I’ll be right back.”

The door slid open, but suddenly, Garak was in front of him, placing a hand on his wrist.

“You’re upset,” he said simply. “Why?”

Julian was trapped. While he wanted to flinch away from Garak, whose touch was feeling more like a shackle than a comfort, he didn’t want to do anything – anything more – that might trouble his friend. For a few moments, he stood helplessly in place, unable to think of a way to get out of this situation without offending Garak.

“If you were me…” he started softly, then changed his mind – that would be a stupid thing to say. “No, don’t worry. It doesn’t matter,” he finished.

“I think, Doctor, this is perhaps a conversation better had sitting down, don’t you?” asked Garak, placing his other hand on Julian’s back and guiding him towards the sofa with a gentle pressure. “Now, then,” he continued once they were seated, “you should know that I am greatly interested to hear your thoughts. If I were you, then what?”

There had always been something about Garak that had made Julian feel overpowered: the feeling had often been one that Julian had reached out for, been attracted by, his inability to resist Garak leaving him with a certain thrill. Now, that feeling had been turned against him, intensified by how unusually close Garak was sitting to him – shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee; his cold hand still covering Julian’s wrist.

“If you were me,” he mumbled reluctantly, “what lie would you be coming up with?”

“That’s difficult to say,” replied Garak, “when I don’t know what truth it is that my story would have to conceal.”

Julian snorted wetly. “I am grateful, really—” he tried to say again, but Garak cut him off with a sharp tut.

“I’ve seen you tell better lies than that, Doctor,” he said reprovingly. “Clearly, there has been some error on my part here.”

Julian didn’t have the energy to correct him. He let himself lean against the other man, although he didn’t quite dare to rest his head on Garak’s shoulder, lest he scare his friend away.

“I’m not entirely sure I can explain it myself,” he said softly, looking down at Kukulaka and giving him a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, Garak, but I simply don’t know where to start. Can we just forget it? Please?”

He flicked his eyes back up to Garak cautiously, not really expecting the interrogation to cease –  and was quite taken aback to find that a vicious scowl had spread over the Cardassian’s face.

“Have it your way,” Garak said archly. “I suppose I was invited for dinner, not conversation.” Standing up abruptly, he stalked over to the kitchenette without a second glance back at Julian.

“Garak—”

Julian’s throat closed around the rest of his sentence, his insides shrivelling into ice as he watched Garak silently tap orders into the replicator. He should have left when he’d had the chance. It would have confused Garak, upset him – but now, it seemed, he was mad at Julian, and that was much worse.

You want to fix this? Then stop being so childish and say something, hissed a voice in his head, but Julian could not obey. Even as Garak finished setting food on the table – now pointedly taking a seat at the other end of the sofa – Julian continued to find himself frozen in place. It was absurd, he knew, having some sort of breakdown and ruining their evening over a child’s toy: it wasn’t even as though Kukulaka had been injured in some way, which would at least have been a little understandable. You always did overreact, that familiar voice sneered, and Julian couldn’t deny it – he was broken, defective, damaged…

Just like Kukulaka had been.

But mending a teddy bear was a far easier process than mending a human. No wonder Garak had lost patience with him.

“The food will be getting cold, Doctor,” said Garak, causing Julian to startle, and all at once a thought was dropping from his lips.

“You’ve got scars, haven’t you, Garak?”

Garak hesitated, seeming to withdraw into himself momentarily before responding. “A curious inquiry,” he replied, “since I am sure you know, Doctor, that in the past I have endured medical treatment less... solicitous… than your own. You offered to heal them, once.”

“And you didn’t let me,” Julian murmured softly, his eyes unfocused, far away. He was still mindlessly tracing patterns across Kukulaka’s fur, the bear soft in his hands.

Garak roughly set down his knife and fork, and Julian flinched at the sudden clatter of metal against china.

“I see,” Garak said bitingly, turning to face Julian. “My ‘transgression’ was failing to realise that you would consider that akin to removing the flaws in your toy. Tell me, do you have scars, Doctor? Are reminders of every mistake you made, every failure to fulfil your duty, etched across your skin?”

“I had Kukulaka,” Julian whispered. “Of course I don’t have scars. I was supposed to be perfect, I—My parents—”

He faltered, a harsh chuckle overtaking his speech. “Of course I don’t have scars,” he repeated, hoping that Garak might understand.

Because it was true, despite his barely-coherent explanation. The bear’s many, careful stitches had been, in a way, a monument to what they had been through together: where his skin had remained unblemished, Kukulaka had borne the scars of their childhood for both of them.

He hadn’t realised he had more to say until he’d already started speaking again.

“Did I—did I ever tell you how many dreams I used to have about the hospital?” he asked. “Not after I found out, I mean, but before, when I was seven, eight years old… My parents told me they were just nightmares— I-I thought they were just nightmares. And then…”

Julian’s voice was shaking. He didn’t dare look at Garak.

“And then when they told me it was true, I—well, I thought I remembered it but… But do I? How can I ever know for sure which memories are real and which were made up while I was sleeping? I don’t have scars, Garak, I don’t know what happened to me!”

His voice, which had been rising steadily, suddenly dropped back down to a hoarse whisper. “But Kukulaka did,” he said. “Kukulaka was there, he was real – and—and I know it sounds silly but that’s why he’s never been just a toy, not me. He’s my witness.”

That last statement sounded a touch dramatic, even to his ears, and he had no idea what Garak would make of it all. He sat there, fidgeting, as he waited for his friend to respond.

“Your dinner is getting cold,” Garak said eventually, but more softly this time, and he shuffled along the sofa to sit next to the doctor once more. Julian could recognise an olive branch when he saw one, and he nodded in acknowledgement.

“I’d better get started then,” he replied, although if truth be told, he no longer had much of an appetite. As he set Kukulaka down beside him, he wondered if Garak was going to say anything else, or if they’d be left eating their dinner in this odd silence that had now sprung up between them.

“I must admit, I am curious,” Garak started, several minutes later. Julian looked at him, automatically tensing in anticipation of what he might say. “Yesterday, you mentioned that you had left your bear with Miss Ren, following your separation. Why, when you are so protective of him?”

Julian sighed: of course Garak would ask the difficult questions. “Leeta was delighted by Kukulaka from the moment she met him,” he tried to explain. “And I suppose that meant a lot to me, that she loved my scarred, ugly bear the way she did. So when we broke up…” He trailed off, shrugging.

“It’s hard to describe,” he continued, brows drawing together. “Kukulaka had become important to us both, I guess, during our relationship. And so even if she didn’t love me anymore, the fact that she still loved him… I don’t know. I wanted her to have him. It made sense at the time.” He shrugged again, giving Garak a short, rueful smile. “And of course, that was before my parents came to the station,” he added.

Garak frowned at him studiously. “Ren Leeta accepted the bear as he was; therefore you felt that she accepted you too, for all your faults,” he said slowly. “Meanwhile I… I attempted to fix your friend and remove any defects – and you believe that to be a reflection of how I view you, Doctor. Am I correct in thinking that you see your bear as some sort of—of metaphor for yourself?”

Julian stared at him. It wasn’t how he would have put it – it wouldn’t have occurred to him to phrase his feelings in such a way – but now that Garak had voiced the thought, it was hard to ignore.

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” he replied quietly. “But yes. Perhaps.”

Shaking his head, he filed the thought away for further examination later, and looked back to Garak. “You’d make quite the psychologist, Mister Garak,” he said, lips twitching into a soft grin.

“Oh, hardly,” said Garak, scoffing just as Julian had known he would. “Other people’s problems are of no interest to me.”

There was a strange swooping sensation in Julian’s chest. “But mine… are?” he asked hesitantly.

Garak hesitated too, before issuing an awkward, stiff reply. “I did not… enjoy seeing you upset,” he admitted. His voice grew quieter. “And I had hoped that I… would not hurt you, again. Clearly, that was one expectation too far.”

Julian was quite unprepared for such raw honesty. His lips fell apart, and he found himself at a loss for how to reply.

Garak pulled himself up straighter, drawing in a breath. “You made a mistake in trusting me with your feelings,” he said curtly, nodding as though confirming something to himself. “Yes. I should leave, before I hurt you any more.”

He stood up, and Julian followed him indignantly, grabbing his hand. “Leave?” he exclaimed. “How could you possibly think that’s what I want, Garak?”

“As I recall, you tried to leave first—”

“And then you forced me to have this entire conversation with you!” responded Julian incredulously. “You’re impossible! First you give me the silent treatment, then you get angry with me, and now just as we’re on the verge of… of something…”

He trailed off, a dark expression creeping into his eyes. “God forbid that you actually share your feelings,” he muttered. “That would be too much like sentiment, wouldn’t it? What was it you said, “sentiment is the greatest weakness of all” – is that it?”

Garak laughed scornfully. “After this evening, Doctor, you’re hardly in a position to lecture me about being open with one’s feelings.”

Julian wondered how they’d ended back in an argument again; in fact, how any of this had turned into an argument at all. Was Garak really so emotionally hopeless that he couldn’t show vulnerability for more than a few minutes without having to cover it up defensively?

Although… Garak wasn’t exactly incorrect in saying that Julian was in no position to judge. ‘Defensive’, ‘uncomfortable with vulnerability’, ‘emotionally hopeless’ – if he were honest with himself, these were all adjectives that could describe one Doctor Julian Bashir…

God, they really were a pair, weren’t they? Despite himself, he started to chuckle, the situation suddenly appearing to him quite absurd.

“I fail to see the amusement in this situation,” snapped Garak, which only made Julian laugh harder.

“Us,” he replied. “We’re both useless at this, Garak. God.” He sat back down, roughly wiping his sleeve across his eyes, and took a deep, settling breath.

“Stay,” he said, looking up into Garak’s eyes and pulling on his hand. “Please. I don’t want you to go.”

Garak was looking back at him, although Julian wasn’t sure if his face was creased in confusion or concern.

“I cannot promise that I will not… upset you, again,” he replied tightly.

“I guess I can’t promise that either,” said Julian, “but we can try talking about it, can’t we? We didn’t do too badly tonight.”

Garak raised an eyebrow. “Okay, tonight has been a train wreck,” Julian corrected. “But you know what they say: practice makes perfect. Sit down, Garak. Please.”

He moved Kukulaka back onto his lap, indicating that the space next to him was now free, but Garak made no movement. Julian’s heart seemed to stop as he waited, his eyes caught in the Cardassian’s piercing blue gaze.

“Your bear will never be as he was before,” noted Garak, his voice low. “I cannot change that.”

Julian stopped running his fingers through the bear’s fur, dropping his eyes down to Kukulaka. “I know,” he said softly. “And I won’t lie – that’s going to hurt for quite some time.” For a few seconds, he closed his eyes, as a mixture of loss and regret pulled sharply upon his heartstrings. “But losing you won’t make that go away,” he continued, looking back at Garak once more. “Will you stay?”

There was another too-long pause, but finally, finally, Garak was sitting back down with a sigh. “If I must,” he complained, but Julian knew that was just for show. Before he could second-guess himself, he set Kukulaka down on Garak’s lap, smiling at the surprise that immediately leapt onto the Cardassian’s face.

“Doctor…”

“Kukulaka would like to say thank you for making him feel better,” Julian said firmly. “Apparently you make for quite the doctor, too.”

“Oh?”

For a few seconds, Garak was seemingly speechless, his eyes flicking between Julian and Kukulaka, before settling on the bear. “You’re quite welcome, young bear,” he said seriously. “Although I doubt I’ll be taking up that mantle again any time soon.”

“Actually,” said Julian tentatively, hoping that he wasn’t about to shatter their recently-brokered truce. “Um, Kukulaka thinks you should know that there’s another way to make him feel better, too.”

“And what’s that?”

Julian’s reply came out as little more than a whisper.

“A good hug?”

Garak’s eyes settled on Julian’s face once more. “I don’t suppose…” he said slowly, “that Kukulaka knows if this… technique… would also be appreciated by Doctor Bashir?”

Julian could feel his cheeks growing warm. “Kukulaka has it on good authority that Doctor Bashir would really like a hug,” he replied, trying to keep his voice light.

“Even a Cardassian one?”

“Especially a Cardassian one.”

Emboldened by Garak’s response, Julian shifted himself closer, pulling Garak’s arm around him so that he could curl up against his chest, Kukulaka safely ensconced within his own arms. It was surprising how natural it felt, like Julian had always belonged at Garak’s side, and always would.

“What do I do now?” asked Garak.

“Just hold me,” Julian murmured. “For as long as you want – until you want to leave. Just… Just hold me.”

“My dear Doctor,” Garak murmured back, his rough fingers beginning to trace patterns over Julian’s arm. “I thought we’d agreed that I would not be leaving.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Captain II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You come home after being announced as captain

In true Magda fashion, everyone in her contact list gets a call. A quick 'did you hear my kid's Sweden Captain?' call where she ends it before the other person can reply.

You get a text and several missed calls that you just ignore until you're free to go to your mothers' house. It was a slip that had you forgetting to tell them that you were Sweden's new captain.

There wasn't much time between your discussion with Emma and walking out to the press conference.

The best you could have given them was a text in warning but, judging by the messages your Morsa sent and all the uncharacteristic emojis she sent with it, you assumed she was happy.

You also assumed that you wouldn't be yelled at for not giving them a heads up.

You pull up at their house and sigh.

Frido's car is also in the driveway and you roll your eyes.

You don't want to think about how many traffic laws she broke to get here before you.

You unlock the front door, unbothered with using the bell, and slip inside.

The low hum of the tv is apparent as you slide off your shoes and hang up your coat. Frido's definitely in the house because you have to put your shoes next to hers and her bag is sitting on the stairs.

You're not entirely sure why she keeps bringing a bag when all her clothes are in the spare room but you don't dwell on it long before making your way into the living room.

Momma is sitting on the sofa, watching the last five minutes of a random show before what she actually wants to watch comes on.

"Your Morsa and moster are in the garden," She tells you," Calling everyone they know to brag."

"Are you angry I didn't tell you? Are they?"

"I'm not angry and those two are much too smug to be angry as well."

You smile and sit next to Pernille, one of her arms being thrown over your shoulder comfortably.

"At least tell me you told Natalia at least. She's not got access to you while on camp like we do."

"I told Talia," You reply.

In fact, Talia was the first and only person you told before the press conference. She'd congratulated you with a laugh before teasing and saying to take it in while you could because she would be gunning for the Spanish captaincy next.

She'd get it eventually, you knew that. It was only a matter of time but, still, you were the only national captain in the relationship at the moment and you just knew she'd have something to say about it when you finally reunited.

"Good girl," Pernille says," I'd hate for her to suddenly appear at the house unexpectedly. You know what your Morsa gets like."

In sync, you both lean forward to peer out of the windows leading to the garden.

Magda's still on the phone, waving her hand around excitedly as her mouth moves quickly before she drops the call only to immediately make a new one.

Frido's also pacing around the garden doing the exact same thing and you can't help but roll your eyes at both of them.

Magda catches your eyes and instantly makes her way back inside.

"Look at you!" She cries, bursting into the room," My little captain! Look at you!"

You're pulled away from Pernille and crushed into a hug as Magda all but sobs into your hair.

"I remember the first time you wore the armband! So small! You couldn't even walk yet! It kept slipping off! Now look at you!"

"Morsa," You groan, trying to escape from her suffocating hug," Let go!"

"My baby!" She's definitely crying now. "Carrying Sweden to greatness!"

(One day, you do lead Sweden to greatness. One day, you make your mark as one of Sweden's captains. One day, you pass off the armband to a young player you saw greatness in like your captain did for you.)

"Come on," You complain," Let go!"

You're released, only to be forced right back into another hug, from your moster Frido now.

Her hugs is just as suffocating as Magda's. She rocks side to side with you as you struggle to get away.

She speaks to Magda over your head. "Do you think I can borrow your old armband? I can't just wear her shirt to matches anymore. Got to complete the look."

"Please don't," You beg but she ignores you.

"Er..." Magda says," I'm not sure actually. I'll have a look-"

"It's on the bedside table," Pernille cuts in," Magda insisted on wearing it last night when we-"

"Gross!" You complain," Please don't talk about your sex life. You know I wear the armband now. Please don't make me think about you guys having sex every time I wear it."

You peak your head over Frido's shoulder to look at your mothers.

Magda shrugs. "A healthy sex life-"

"Stop!" You clamp your hands over your ears. "Stop talking or I'll go straight back to camp. Stop talking!"

Magda waves a hand dismissively. "You'll find out what I mean as soon as you see Natalia again."

[weaselle]

dog communication stuff

In these pics my dog is stressed from being too hot but if a person didn't know better it would be easy to think he was smiling or happy

it was summer, we were living in a tent, we woke up from a nap to the tent being way to hot and as soon as i threw some pants on and snapped these two pics, i took him out to some shade and wet his belly. I sent the pics to my dog’s other owner, who also works with dogs and was not fooled at all -- she immediately sent back her reply of “too hot boi”

once you know to look for it the face he is making is clearly distressed

dogs, like humans, will squint their eyes in both pleasure and discomfort, and you can see here he is doing the kind of eye squint we might do with, like, this type of smile 😬 you know, the kind of eye squint you do while sucking in air through your closed bared teeth

His open relaxed mouth is very similar to a happy smile face dogs also make but in the top pictures it is much more of a stress pant. Here, i’ll put a pic of an actual smile face to compare

Now in this one, he is also tired from our winter beach romp, so there’s going to be a little overlap. There are parts of this smile that read as a little tired/hot (tired and hot go hand in hand with dogs, who do not have a body with many good adaptations for cooling down) or possibly stressed from stimulation (not all stress is terrible, and sometimes can be from positive experiences, like a kid being overwhelmed on christmas morning, and this was on a beach adventure day for Badger).

So for example he is giving hot or tired tongue, but not as much as he could be. And the corners of his mouth are up a little too much which makes that puckered lip effect around the corner of his mouth, that parenthesis of fur and muscle between the black of his actual lip and what looks like a dimple. When his mouth corners are smiling enough to be doing that, there is an amount of stress, again, not as much as it could be. This like seeing a kid who has been running around disneyland. Yeah, that kid is sweaty and has a bit of a look in his eye and probably needs a nap in about an hour, but he's fine.

if you’re having trouble telling the difference try imagining him about to cry in the tent pics and then in the above photo. Right? Also the eye squint is a softer squint from the corner and not tense from the bottom as much which gives his eye squint in the last pic a more mellow happy look (tho again, a little tension under the eyes if you're looking for it, as well as a little prick of the eye brow)

here is a clearer difference after he’s caught his breath and relaxed a bit on the same bench

The two pictures are just minutes apart, but in the first one we have just arrived at the bench after all kinds of beach excitement, and in the second one we've been sitting quietly on the bench for ten minutes or so and he isn't as close to overwhelmed, more relaxed while still being very happy and engaged with his surroundings. You still see the happy parts of his smiley face, but the corners of his mouth are more relaxed, his eyes are softer, his tongue is not as enlarged.

When a dog gets hot (or flushes like you might from embarrassment or other stress) the capillaries in their tongues increase in diameter by quite a bit. This means there is a lot more blood in their tongue, and it swells up until it is literally too large to fit comfortably in their mouth, forcing them to pant. So their tongue will look a little different sticking out depending on if that is happening. In the first pic of Badger on the bench, his tongue is thicker and broader. In the second pic on the bench, his tongue is sticking out about the same, but it is thinner and nearly fits between his bottom canine teeth. Not sticking out at all or maybe just a tiny bit in a mlem sort of way would be even more relaxed and low stress.

and now, here is a big happy very clearly not stressed smiley face!

i hope these pics are helpful or informative to anyone on here hoping to improve their dog communication!

[redlittlefoxari]

Astarion Epilogue An Adventure in Making Life: Chapter Nine: Secrets Don’t Make Friends

Relationship: Astarion X Tav

Warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, blood, violence, sex, blood drinking, pregnancy.

Summary: Karlach barges in on Tav while she's about ready to come down for dinner. Spotting a Fully naked, and pregnant Tav.

Master List

People who wished to be tagged: @ofmyth-andmagicart @lunaredgrave

If you want to be tagged in future updates send me a message

12 weeks pregnant

Karlach’s eyes moved from your small baby bump to your face and back to the bump. There were so many emotions on her face, warring for control, the most prominent ones being hurt, confusion, anger, and happiness. They all tore across her face, and seeing her in this state broke your heart.

“What the fuck is going on.” Karlach walked further into the room, raising her voice as she did. “I thought you said that it was hard for elves to get pregnant? All that on the road earlier, and here you are, Pregnant.”

You quickly picked up a towel to cover yourself. “Keep it down.” You hushed her. “I know this looks bad, but let me explain.”

“Keep it down? Keep it down!?” You hushed her again. “You better get to explaining why didn’t you tell us? Does Astarion even know?”

“Oh, he knows…” You walked over to the bed where your clothes were laid out and sat down.

“So what, the two of you decided to have a child and found a sperm donor or something?” She waited for you to reply.

“No, it’s his child one hundred percent. Long story short, if a vampire has had enough blood and is sated, they can produce children.” You placed your hand on your stomach. “And if everything alines with elves, we can produce children, so one night about twelve weeks ago, Astarion had enough blood, and an elven soul was looking to be reincarnated. So now I am pregnant with a half-vampire baby.”

Karlach’s jaw hung open in surprise. “So why didn’t you tell us? That's amazing; we should be celebrating!”

Karlach closed the distance between the two of you, taking a seat on the bed next to you. She was a good foot and a half taller than you, so her tower form loomed over you a bit as she waited to hear why you and Astarion felt the need to keep this from them.

“I was scared.” You looked down at the floor. “Elven pregnancies are already high risk. and you mix that was a Vampire where we don’t have a whole lot of information… I don’t know.”

“But you're okay now… aren’t you? You’re so far along now; wouldn’t it be okay to tell us.” Her voice was low, an attribute that you didn’t see often in her.

“I don’t know. I’m still scared something could go wrong.” You could feel tears in your eyes starting to form. “What if I tell you all, Put it out into the universe, and something bad happens… what if I lose them and have to tell you all that they're gone…. I have to go through the loss of telling you over and over again.”

There it was, the fear that you kept to yourself. Not even Astarion knew why you were so adamant about keeping it a secret till you hit fourteen weeks. You just kept telling him you didn’t want to overshadow Gale’s celebration, but the truth was you feared that once you celebrated with friends, some cruel god would take the baby away from you.

You remember stories your mother had told you growing up that she herself had suffered three miscarriages until she finally conceived you. She had kept you secret until she couldn’t anymore, and that was well into her second trimester. It was just something that elves feared since it was a rare gift to have children, and most elves never got the chance to experience it. With the added factor of the baby being Astarion’s, your fears skyrocketed.

“Hey.” Karlach placed her hand on yours; it was warm, whereas yours was cold, the water on your skin making it hard to get warm.

You looked up at Karlach, her smile reaching her eyes, which also had tears in them.

“If any god even thinks of doing that, I’ll go to whatever plane they're on and kill them myself.” You let out a small laugh at her declaration. “I get why you did it… Gods, so when that arrow hit you… the two of your reactions make sense now.”

“We were terrified that we lost them…” The thought sent a jolt of fear to your heart. “I don’t know what I would have done if Astarion didn’t hear the heartbeat.”

“The little guy has a heartbeat…” Karlach stared at you in wonder. “Gods, that’s amazing…. You're amazing. May I?”

She gestured to your stomach, and you nodded. Her warm hand slipped beneath the towel to touch the swell of your bare belly. She wouldn’t feel anything, nor would Karlach be able to hear the heartbeat, but it felt nice having her be a part of the secret and her support. It also didn’t hurt that you were freezing, and she was nice and warm.

“You won’t be able to feel them kicking for a while, not till the third trimester.” You smiled at Karlach’s wonder.

“I just can’t believe that there is a child growing in there. What do you suppose it’s going to be? Boy or Girl?”

“I’m not sure. There is no way to tell short of asking a divination wizard, but I don’t want to know… I like to be surprised.” The thought of a boy scared you, though. You knew nothing about being a boy, and the idea of Astarion teaching them all his ways of being mischievous was scary.

“They are going to be beautiful judging by who their parents are.” Karlach pulled her hand away. “I understand why you kept this a secret, but why not tell us now? We’ll all help you keep this little one safe. Auntie K will be its number one bodyguard.” Karlach puffed out her chest.

“You are right, I suppose I should let you all in on the secret now since you know.” You reached for the white dress that would show off your bump and hesitated.

“I know you’re scared, but you got this. Astarion would never let anything happen to you or the baby.”

“I know. I just don’t want to mess anything up… He hasn’t really had a family. At least not one that he remembers.” You grab the fabric and bunch it up on your lap. “He doesn’t remember his mother and father. the family Cazador made was not even close to something that resembled a family; he just beat them and used them as slaves.” The thought burned white hot in your mind as you thought about everything that monster put him through.

“But now he has you.” Karlach’s voice was comforting. “And the baby.”

“And if something happens and I lose the baby, It’s like I’m taking another thing away from him.”

“You wouldn’t be taking anything away from me.” Astarion said in a quiet tone.

The two of you jumped as you turned to see Asatrion at the door, leaning on the door frame. He pushed off of the frame using his shoulder and entered the room, stopping just a few feet from where you and Karlach were seated on the bed.

“Karlach, would you give me and my fiancee some privacy? I need to remind her of something important.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke.

“Fiancee?” She looked at you.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that part too… sorry.” You didn’t look away from Astarion.

“We’ll you told me most of it.” She stood up and walked past Asatrion, reaching the door and pausing. “I won’t tell anyone… that’s for you to decide when and where you want to do so.”

She shot you one last smile and walked out, closing the door behind her as she did. The two of you stared at each other for several moments. You spoke first, not wanting to be in silence any longer.

“Were you listening the whole time?”

“Yes, When I noticed Karlach was gone, I hurried up her to get her before she got to you, but I was a few minutes too late.” He took a seat next to you. “Now, what is this about you keeping the baby a secret because you don’t want to take another family away from me?”

“It’s more than just that. So many things can go wrong, and if they do, I’ll be responsible for taking another family from you.” You spoke, and Astarion laughed. “How's that funny?”

“Because that is a silly thing to think and say, my love.” He cupped your face with his hands. “Karlach was right. I would not let that happen.”

“You can’t know that We attract bad. luck everywhere we go, pretty much. You’ve already lost so much of the family before you were a Vampire… the one when you were.”

“That one wasn’t a family. Cazador made us to be his slaves to make a small man feel big.” He scoffed. “The rats and bugs that often crawled around me were more family than he ever was. As for my family, before I was a vampire, I don’t remember them, so I have no comment on how they treated me.” He kissed your lips gently. “You and our child growing inside of you are my family, and there is nothing anyone will do to take that away from me. I would rip whoever apart if they tried.”

“So you think we should just tell everyone?”

“I think it is time to stop being so scared, darling, and start living; you are not your mother and are far past the point of losing this child. For gods sake, you got shot in the stomach, and our child shrugged it off like it was nothing. They are far stronger than you give them credit for.”

His statement makes you laugh. “You are right; they are. Just like their father.”

“Don’t forget their mother, too. How many arrows have I pulled out of you these past fifty years? Probably hundreds. The sacred tissue alone was probably enough to keep our child safe.” The two of you laughed lightly.

“What if we lose them?”

“Darling, it was a miracle that we conceived this baby, to begin with, so there must be a god out there that wants us to grace this realm with our beautiful child.” He kissed between your brows.

“I didn’t think of that…” You were beginning to feel foolish. Pregnancy brain, along with the fears your mother placed in you all those years ago, probably didn’t help you think clearly. “Next time, just hit me over the head when I’m not thinking clearly. “

“Will do, but it’s not entirely your fault. The standard practice for elves to keep this sort of thing a secret is kinda hammered into you.” He stood up and walked over to his bag. “Now, if we announce that we are going to be parents, I want to be a little more dressed up than this.” He gestured to what he was wearing. A white flowy shirt and standard black pants he always wore.

Asatrion reached into his bag and pulled out a red embroidered top. Gold was sewn into the top in a pattern that looked like dragons fighting amongst fire. It was gody and over the top and something that screamed for others' attention.

“Do you have anything else?” You also stood, dropping the towel from around you, and stepped into the white dress you were holding.

“What’s wrong with this?” He looked offended.

“It makes you look less like soon-to-be father and more like douchy Vampire lord.” You turned towards him, doing a twirl. “Something subtle like this, maybe?”

“Fine, I’ll wear my dark blue doublet.” He put the gody monstrosity back and pulled out a blue doublet with gold stars sewn into the fabric. He put the doublet on and huffed at you. “Happy?”

“Very.” You wove your arm into his so that the crook of your elbow was touching his. “Now, let's go; our child is telling me it's time to eat, and we don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Of course not, the others certainly, but not our child.” Asatrion said as he smiled down at you.

The dress put you on full display. Your once smaller breasts were accented by a low neckline that plunged down past the bottom of your breasts. The fabric was smooth over your belly and showed the bump of where your child sat in the safety of your stomach. And a long slit just the length of your dress where you could feel the coolness of the tower.

“I’m never wearing pants again.” You said, reveling in how you felt free and not constricted by any waistband.

“And I told you that I’m fine with that it makes it easier to have you whenever I would like; all I would need to do is bend you over and pull up your skirts.” Asatrion leaned down and bit your ear.

You shuddered. “I don’t think we have time to test that… Our baby needs substance.”

“Of course, But after we are fed, I’m going to eat you alive.” He growled his statement into your ear.

A wave of heat went through you. Astarion kindling your arousal. “We better eat fast than.”

You began moving to the dining hall. Each step becomes more complicated than the last. You fought with every fiber of your being to go towards the Dining hall wearing this dress. To tell your friends that secret that the two of you had been keeping all this time. The questions that they would surely ask. You stood at the door and hesitated.

“Are you ready?” Astarion looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“I will be once my heart stops beating so damn fast.” You took a few steading breaths and then nodded to him to open the door.

Astarion flung the door open wide, and you watched as everyone stopped their conversations to look at the two of you. From where everyone was sitting, they would not be able to see the bump that was protruding out from your dress. You watched as Karlach was practically buzzing next to Wyll in excitement. She really was trying her hardest not to let your secret out.

The two of you walked forward toward your friends slowly, fear still gripping your heart. Astarion reached with his other hand and patted your arm. “Everything will be fine.”

“What took the two of you so long?” Gale sounded annoyed as he stood from where he was sitting. “I thought when Karlach went up to get you, you would come down, but then she came down and has been acting like that every since.”

You looked towards her to find that she had a hand placed over her lips and looked like she was going to explode.

“I’m sorry, Gale, it’s my fault. I was having some personal issues I needed to work through.” You had reached the head of the table where your friends were sitting.

You unlaced your arm from Astarion’s and made it easier for everyone to see your baby bump. The whole table stared in shock as Astarion pulled out your chair so that you could sit down. You took your seat. and the table was still silent as Astarion also took his next to you.

Astarion looked around at everyone’s faces. “Well, go on, one of you say something. It’s almost as if you’ve never seen an elf pregnant with a Vampire’s child before.” Astarion grabbed a wine glass and took a long sip as the table erupted with questions.

[chronicallyonlinewriter]

TLoU: Season 2, Episode 4

Oh hello, I am back with more TLoU thoughts, having just finished episode four. And ya'll, for once they are mostly positive.

1.) For me, this is the episode that managed to capture the tone of the video game the most, and I loved it. Everything about the TV station, especially - and while I'm sad we didn't get the hotel beforehand (imagine Tommy somehow got to Seattle before her, and she discovered the result of the interrogation technique that Joel explained to her, and her realizing that he might be there - would have been so good; Craig please hire me for season three) so much of it was so reminiscent of the game. All of the sneaking around, the bodies hung from the ceiling - I found myself saying "SNEAK UP BEHIND HIM AND PRESS TRIANGLE!" when Ellie was behind the soldier on the second floor. 2.) Isaac is 10/10, scary motherfucker, played once again so well by Jeffrey Wright. I liked the glimpse into his past, and the irony that while he was so derisive toward the FEDRA soldiers about having taken away the rights of the people, we then see him eleven years into the future just as ruthless as FEDRA, and just as entrenched in "Us vs Them."

3.) The subway system! No shamblers, but I can forgive that, because the chase through the cars was great. I had wondered how they would reveal Ellie's immunity without the prior knowledge of spores, and they pulled that off well, which brings me to - 4.) I always thought Dina was perhaps just a bit too easily accepting of Ellie's immunity in the game, so I appreciated that she was so cautious in this episode. (It does seem like people get sick / turn quicker from spores in the game, so she likely would have been symptomatic by the time they reached the theater in the game, but still.) 5.) A little bummed we don't get the iconic fuck-up of "well you're a burden now," from Ellie, but - 6.) I have always thought that, if Ellie had been in a better place and a better mindset when Dina told her about the pregnancy, Ellie's response would have been more along the lines of surprise, caution, but overall acceptance. (Shameless plug: it's something I am currently exploring in Everywhere .) She's a lesbian who lives in a small(ish) town with not a large (if barely present) LGBTQ+ presence, and so she is bound to understand that as far as parenthood goes, this might be her only shot at it. 7.) Girls, go get Shimmer, the fuck. (Or...actually, maybe not. You know what? Just leave her in the music store until you're ready to go home.) 8.) In the first season, Ellie excitedly told Joel, "I wanna see a tank!" and he replied, "You will." It finally came true. 😭 9.) As a fellow bisexual whose mother also told her "no," I see you, Dina. I see you. I do want more Dina lore, though - I'm curious if we'll hear about her sister. 10.) Girl, put that guitar back in its case for the next pair of sapphic adventurers, wtf. 11.) Cruel for them to show Joel in the afterward, but not during the episode. I really miss that guy, idk about you guys.