#I want one of those blue farms so bad

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: March 22

"Too Sweet" by Hozier

[seattlesellie]

i have a request!! i had a thought yesterday and imagine ellie coming home to you complaining about your hurting tits and at first she’s like kind of concerned yk so she gently asks you to let her see but then she gets turned on and starts to play with them and stuff djdksksk i need her so bad

painkiller.

warnings: mentions of reader having pms, afab reader, smut (minors… please don’t), tit play obviously, slight spit play as well, pathetic caring dom ellie, masturbation (e)

an: i really am a sucker for ellie taking care of u when ur feeling unwell :( just makes me feel fjjsjdjs and i can’t even imagine how comforting she it. btw i had farm ellie in mind (don’t i always) 💗 i’m kinda on the fence with this one but i’m writing dbf abby n needed a break<3

although the sun has sunk, and the dark blue skies are veiled by a shroud of dark clouds, the heavy and sultry august heat managed to creep itself through your window, nevertheless. the white wine in your glass — the 'chenin blanc' to be exact, has lost all of it’s docile sweetness all of a sudden, succumbing to an unpalatable acrimony. even the book that’s half opened, resting on your knees; seems devoid of interest, and you’re left there, sat on the couch, accompanied by another painful groan escaping from your lips, and a dull ache settling within your body.

it just is one of those days. 

you bring your trembling hand lower, finding solace against your chest. with a slight opening of your quivering bottom lip, you whine through clenched teeth. you gulp, gingerly placing the wine glass upon the table, and rest your eyes shut. “hurts…” you whimper into the void, cupping your right breast and attempting to soothe and massage it. your touch, albeit is nothing but soft, manages to make it ache even more. you squeeze your eyes in despair, and a fat tear flows down your cheek. you wipe it away, followed by a hushed but tormented hum.

five minutes manage to pass by, and just as you teeter on the precipice of sleep, an insistent stab of pain jolts you awake. the pain slyly creeps around, wends its insidious path, and ‘rests’ down on your lower back, your hips, and then finds home on your breasts again. a pain killer could help, perhaps, but you’ve already taken two, and mixing it with wine, albeit only half a glass, would be quite a bad idea.

“this… SUCKS!” — you groan, and maybe god could hear you and fix it, if only you were loud enough.

then, your ears twitch at the subtle creak emanating from the keyhole. after that, the wooden door opens. you were thinking about god hearing you, and somehow ellie managed to appear. you’d entertain her with that amusing little thought, but all you can mutter after her relieved “hey, babe” — is a rather pathetic hiccup. ellie walks intently towards you, eyebrows knitted tightly, the staccato rhythm of her rough boots echoing upon the wooden floor, and she walks almost as if she found a wounded fawn in the middle of a dirt road.

your eyes remain firmly sealed, your limbs limp and listless at your sides, and even though you can’t see, you can tell she’s crouched down in front of you. ellie inhales deeply, and places both of her rough hands on your thighs. “hey… whats wrong?” she asks, her voice husky and thick with concern. god — does hearing that caring tone make you want to sob even harder. it tugs at your heartstrings, and you don’t respond. “talk to me… please… uh, let me get you some water?”, and with another hiccup leaving your lips, ellie nods to herself and almost walks away to the kitchen. helplessly, attempting to make her stay, you grab her wrist and sniffle away. “hurts…” you cry, and your eyes flutter open, meeting her worried gaze. her eyebrows are furrowed and her eyes are travelling from your own orbs to your cheek, her hand lifting up to wipe a measly tear away.

you love her so much you think you might scream.

ellie caresses down your thigh now, then down your knee, and then travels further down to your ankle. she plants a tender kiss there, and then on your wrist, waiting for you to reply. “baby, answer me… i… hate seeing you like this” she pleads.

as if on cue, the sharp pain strikes again, like a gentle lightening bolt, shooting through the bottom of your left breast. “think i’m… about to get my period, i dunno… everything hurts” you admit, sniffling. “i’m dramatic, sorry…” you whisper softly, and ellie sighs, shaking her head. “not dramatic, babe… i mean, you know how i get… you cry, and i break stuff… if we really think about it, i'm the dramatic one” she chuckles, tilting her head to the side. she has some light bags underneath her forest green eyes. she must have had a long, exhausting day at work — and here you are sobbing because your boobs hurt. you pout slightly and manage to let out of a small, exhausted giggle. “you don’t break stuff…”, ellie arches a brow and smirks. “no? what about that vase in the bedroom?” 

she's… half right. she didn’t break it on purpose, she was kicking the drawer because she felt like “there’s a demon", on her “cursed fuckin’ useless lesbian uterus” — so the wooden furniture shook, leading to the vase's demise, and it shattered into countless tiny pieces. then, she bought a new vase that didn’t fit the room at all, but you kept it nevertheless. 'ellie’s apology for being an asshole vase' is what she called it, and how could you dispose of such a thing?

it’s corny, really, but you somehow managed to forget you were even crying in the first place. “t’was an ugly vase”, you murmur. ellie plants another small kiss on your thigh and you nearly purr. “you liked that vase, liar”, she teases.

you sit in cozy cocoon of silence, ellie's anecdotes and workplace stories become a soothing distraction. she's careful, almost calculated, as she takes note of every smile that graces your face instead of a wince.

it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

you laugh and giggle, until you don’t. another bolt of striking pain hits your breast. you mewl, and ellie immediately ceases her sentence. “stomach?” she asks, her hand descending to rest on your lower abdomen. her palms are big and warm, and if it did hurt, you’re more than convinced her touch will make it go away. “um… no…”, and although her touch there is comforting, it’s not where the real ache lies. “where?” ellie asks, now lifting herself up and sitting right beside you. she moves the half opened book to the side, scoffing. “that book sucks, by the way… ass story” 

maybe it wasn’t just you.

she caresses down your shoulder, squeezing in affection. “where does it hurt, babe? your back?” she inquires and you hiss again, flinching in pain. “no uh…” you whisper, and then lower your chin, as if you’re attempting to signal ellie to where the pain really stays. she lowers her gaze, blinking thrice before looking up at you. your eyes are glassy and it makes her heart melt and ache. such a pretty crier, and for what? she wonders. “uh… my… y’know… my boobs… they jus’ feel heavy” you whine, your voice a soft, pitiable whisper. ellie takes her bottom lip between her teeth. “poor thing, huh?” she rasps. “owh… hate them…” you mutter, holding a breast between your fingers.

ellie chuckles, trying to seem undistracted by the way your hand is cupping your breast in despair. her poor girl… and her poor tits… — but she still is, worried about you. and she really does care, so she pushes that negligible thought to the side. “well, i like them”, she rasps quietly and cocks her head. “uh, y'know, a lot” she remarks, and she really isn’t trying to turn you on, just distract you again. 

you wrestle with a mischievous smile, damp and sticky eyelashes closing in despair. the juxtaposition is absolutely unheard of — the small river flowing down your cheek, and the smiles that keep involuntary appearing. “just like? you don’t love them?” you playfully prod, and then hiccup when you feel the ache smite again. ellie chuckles and wipes another tear with her calloused palm and not with her finger, and then let’s out of a throaty chuckle. “no i… i love your tits very mu—“ her words are cut short, as she notices you biting your lip, attempting to stifle your laughter. she shoves you playfully and rolls her eyes. “fuck you babe… if you see me blushing, ignore that shit, i swear to god, i’m posessed” — she insists, as if she doesn’t blush when kiss her lips in the morning, as if she doesn’t blush when you get dressed or undressed in front of her, or when you hold her hand and introduce her as your girlfriend.

she’s a raging, awkward blusher and she needs to come to terms with that.

you snigger, but the pain however — is still there. “owh…” you hiccup, and as soon as that thought creeps inside ellie’s mind, she swallows, no — gulps, and places her palm gently on your breast. then, she holds you by the back of your neck and makes you look up at her. “can i help you, babe?” she questions, a quivering breath following her query. your lips part, and you want to say “yes”, it's echoing in your thoughts, but all that comes out is a small sigh of relief. it nearly makes you tremble, your own hand never felt that good. you nod slowly, and ellie nods with you. “just… a little massage, yeah?” she rasps, tongue moistening her bottom lip. all she needs to do is help you find relief from that dull, pinching ache, but all she yearns to do is make you whimper out again. god, ellie…

“close your eyes… i got you” she comforts sympathetically. although her voice is commanding, you don’t follow her demand, because the way her tatted forearm flexes when she spreads her fingers on your breasts, makes you want to watch and be an audience of that glorious show forever. ellie follows your eyes, and then her own — fall down on your aching breasts. “gonna take your bra off… that ok?”, she asks, as if she doesn't already know the answer. you shut your eyes involuntarily, when her finger strokes down on your clothed, aching nipple. “i got you”, she repeats, and as soon as you know it, your bare but swollen breasts are loose, and on full display. they hurt still, but the relief is apparent on your face. ellie bites her lip, and thank god your eyes are closed, because her pupils grew twice in size, and she doesn’t want it to be sexual but she can’t help it when you’re so…

“i really do love them…” she whispers but it's simply to herself, albeit your ears catch it and you “hmm?” in response. “nothing, relax, close your eyes… gonna let ellie take care of you now, yeah?, deep breaths...” — the warmth inside your stomach spreads, and it feels like sweet and sticky lava. you hum, sighing in relief, followed by a small hiccup of pain or… arousal, as soon as ellie takes both of your breasts in her hand and begins kneading them together. it’s all very gentle, albeit her wheeze sounding breaths. when her thumb caresses your nipple, you flinch in the slightest and ellie picks up on it. “right there?” she questions, and when you find her thumb on your swollen nipple again, it’s wet — she licked it, brought her digit inside her mouth and sucked. ellie begins circling the puffy nob, now wet and glistening with her saliva, and your hips buck forward. she hums, “still hurts?” — you want to shake your head no, because it really doesn’t feel like it’s hurting any more, at least not in a bad way, but you nod your head instead. “awh…” she coos, nodding her head again, with you. when ellie hears the small whimper that escapes your mouth, she chuckles. “really… really hurts, pretty girl?” she teases, still keeping her touches light as a feather and nothing but gentle. “yeah… hurts, ellie”, you whisper, and ellie sighs and hums. she traces faint circles on both of your nipples, “think i need to work harder then… huh, poor baby?”, she mutters underneath her breath.

when her hot mouth latches itself onto your nipple, your chest all but buzzes and heaves. a moan that you can’t bring yourself to suppress leaves your mouth, and ellie groans in response. her tongue forms small circles on your nipples, both of her hands still kneading the flesh, lifting it up and then dropping it down. her index and middle finger squeeze your nipples together underneath her tongue and you wince, a small broken sob coming from deep within. she milks the pain away, and if it was perhaps in liquid form, you could say you were sucked dry. “shh, shh…” ellie murmurs. she attaches her mouth back on the nob, now suckling it in and out of her needy, hot mouth. "uh-huh... let go for me", she whispers, gently flicking a nipple up and down.

every time you whimper and cry, she has to squeeze her thighs together — because my god do you tits hurt but her cunt aches even harder.

when ellie takes your nipple out of her mouth, you let out of a small gasp. she wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and takes a moment to admire the work of art sitting in front of her. your eyes, closed shut. your bottom lip, in between your teeth, and your breasts — covered up, glistening with her warm saliva. “jesus, i…” she murmurs under her breath. you push your chest forward, an attempt of showing her you’re begging for her mouth again, “hurts, please… ellie, help” you mewl, and with a grunt followed by a whimper, ellie latches on to them again. you open your eyes slowly, looking down at her through wet eyelashes, and when you see her — her eyes are intently shut, her mouth devouring you, forehead covered by sweet beads of thin sweat. “just wanna help you, just… wanna help” she whispers, her tongue pathetically hanging out of her pouty pink lips.

the desire to take her unoccupied hand, and give it a small kiss is strong, but you quickly notice — it is nothing but unoccupied. it’s shoved down her pants, moving with fervour and want. when she opens her eyes and sees that you’re looking, she whimpers a blocked but high pitched sound.  “hurts for me too”, she pats her palm directly on her achy cunt, and it might be unconventional pain-reliever, but perhaps... your ache flowed into her.

<3

[anystalker707]

a sweet reminder

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Spending a nice time with Luke after he's done working at the farm, and of course he's awfully sweet. Tags: clingy luke / he really wants to take care of you / lots of kisses

MASTER LIST

          Despite the usual high temperatures, the day felt exceptionally hot—the suns seemed to be taking out personal anger on Luke, making each step towards his home feel like torture, and he already knew he’d need some cream later tonight to deal with burning in the areas where the sunlight chastened his tanned skin. He furrowed his eyebrows, patting his clothes to get rid of the sand accumulated between the folds.

The droids wouldn’t do everything, so Luke still needed to carry those heavy buckets of water back home to refill the sprinklers. He tried to balance between no water spilled and the intense pain in his fingers to let buckets down on the ground as slowly as he could, and the pain lingered uncomfortably around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” Luke breathed as he opened and closed his hand a few times until the stiffness went away, or at least most of it. He sighed as he placed his hands on his hips, looking down, letting the breeze refresh the back of his neck before he moved to finish his task. He would be free for the last of the day, hopefully.

Luke’s thoughts were fuzzy already after so many hours under the suns, but he had done that enough times to trust himself on autopilot. He could name a handful of things—more, actually—he would rather be doing right now.

A long breath escaped his lips once he was done, and he tried his best to ignore the tingling in the back of his mind that told him it was only a matter of time before his uncle told him to do something else. He took a deep breath as he walked over to the kitchen, his body instinctively freezing when he heard his name being called, but hey, it wasn’t Uncle Owen.

“Luke,” the voice called again, and he stepped out to see you coming down the edge. A smile tugged on your lips when you finally saw him, sighing. “Wow, you look like you’ve been… smuggled by Jawas.”

“Oh,” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Just slaving away as usual,” he breathed, glancing behind him, but no one from his family was around. He wiped the sweat away from his brow with his forearm, and he shook his head again so that his strands would fall back into place.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just feeling a little too hot and cranky.” Luke scrunched his nose a little. Today’s weather seemed harsher than usual, and opposite to his wishes to stay home upgrading his ship, he had to work at the farm for longer than normal today.

You raised your eyebrows, nodding faintly. “I was gonna ask you to come grab a drink with me, but we don’t need to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

Luke’s eyes followed your hand reaching out to brush his hair back into place, and he made sure to stand still while you did so. “Doesn’t sound bad at all,” he said. “Maybe we can have a couple of glasses of blue milk while we hang out in the garage. I was gonna tinker around with my stuff anyway.” He grabbed your hand, walking by the kitchen with you to grab the promised drink before you two could go sit on the couch in the garage. He always sat close, pressed to your side. “Ugh, what a day, I swear. Anything interesting happened while I was slaving away?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoffed with an endearing smile. You enjoyed the refreshing sensation of the blue milk going down your throat, and the garage felt a lot nicer than being cooked under the suns outside. On the other hand, maybe it’d be colder than usual tonight. “And no, nothing interesting. I did hit my head on the edge of a ship while fixing it, though. I’m not sure if that’s interesting,” you chuckled, bringing a hand up to the sore spot on top of your head out of instinct.

Blue eyes observed you over the rim of the glass before Luke lowered it, licking his lips as his eyes roamed over you with clear concern, a crease forming between his eyebrows. A small sound came from him as he put his glass away. “Oh no, are you alright? Let me take a look.” He adjusted his position and placed your glass on the table as well, reaching out to touch your head. His fingertips gently traced the area where you’d hit with a delicate and soft touch. “Does this hurt?” He applied a little pressure.

“Ow,” you hissed at the unexpected pain, though it wasn’t too bad. You’d forget it hurt if nothing touched the area you’d hit. “Only a little sore.” 

“I don’t feel any bumps or swelling, but I think we should keep an eye on it, anyway,” Luke exhaled. “But that’s a relief. We don’t want you losing any more brain cells.” He chuckled and kissed the top of your head carefully, his hand descending to cup your cheek for a brief moment. Concern was evident in his eyes as they met yours, making your heart flutter in your chest. “I have a bacta spray. It should help. Do you want me to get it?”

You placed your hand on top of his to squeeze it reassuringly, letting it fall to your lap. “I’m fine, I swear. Maybe we should be more worried about your brain cells cooking in this heat, yeah?” You chuckled, running your thumb over Luke’s knuckles when his eyes widened, and you were sure his blushing would be apparent if it weren’t for his sun-kissed skin.

“H-Hey, my brain is just fine, thank you very much!” Luke’s attempt to sound indignant failed miserably with his embarrassment, and he bit his lip, glancing away. “It’s not like I’m hallucinating or anything.” His eyes softened when they met yours again, and he lifted his free hand, his fingertips grazing your cheek gently—he raised his eyebrows a little when you leaned into his touch. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He leaned in closer. “Maybe I should take another look, just to be safe.”

Part of you regretted telling Luke about the bump when concern laced his gaze once more—you thought he’d be more used to it, since you and him were always with a bruise or another from working on those ships or machines the whole time.

“It’s okay,” you insisted, catching his hand between yours before he could reach for your head again. “Trust me, Luke.” You squeezed his hand gently.

Luke exhaled. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He looked down at your joined hands before he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. “But if it gets worse, you’ll tell me, right?” His wide, earnest eyes looked into yours, pleading, before he pressed his forehead to yours, both out of habit and out of worry. Clingy, as always. “I could kiss it better.” His breath fanned over your face. “If you want me to, I mean.” As if he hadn’t already.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you mumbled, your eyelids instinctively hiding half of your irises when the distance between you diminished. “Why are you always doing this? Pressing your forehead to mine. Trying to read my thoughts?” You chuckled, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows lightly. “It feels… nice. Comforting, I guess.” He bit his lip, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, near the base of your neck. “Don’t act like I’m being clingy.”

“Yeah, feels nice, I enjoy it too… But you’re very clingy all the time, in fact,” you whispered with a small smile, placing a hand on his waist instead, adjusting your position so that you could be closer to each other.

A soft scoff escaped his lips. “You’re the one who wouldn’t stop kissing me the last time,” he pointed out with a shy smile, and he quickly pulled one of your legs to hook over his. “Not that I’m complaining,” he mumbled in a quieter, embarrassed voice, but he didn’t move away. The closeness was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. “I really like it when you do that.”

You raised your eyebrows, feigning cluelessness, despite how your heart fluttered in your chest. “Me? I never even kissed you. Let alone kiss you nonstop.” You clicked your tongue.

Luke pulled away suddenly, making your head fall forward a little, and looked at you with a wide grin and disbelief. “What? But you did! Here in the garage, when we were working on the speeder.” He paused. “Trying to.”

“Did I?” You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t remember it, baby.”

His heart pounded in his chest, and his cheeks burned, not just because of being under the sunlight for hours before. With a dramatically heavy sigh, he leaned in again. “Maybe you should kiss me again, love.” He glanced at your lips. “Just to remind you.”

“Oh, so that’s your suggestion?” You asked, and Luke nodded, biting his lip. “‘M not sure about it,” you mumbled against his cheek, nuzzling it softly.

“Well, we should try, maybe it’ll remind you,” Luke chuckled softly, turning his head. His lips brushed against yours in a barely-there touch. It was more of a tease, but still managed to send a tingling down his spine. He cupped the side of your neck, his thumb under your jaw, leaning in, and finally kissed you properly. His lips finally met yours, his breath hitching. Luke loved the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips, and it made his head spin when you kissed him back just as lovingly. “Like this?”

“I don’t think I’ve remembered enough,” you said as soon as his lips broke away from yours.

Luke chuckled. “We’ll have to keep trying, then.” He pecked your lips. “Until you remember.” Despite the calloused skin, his hands gently cupped your face as he kissed you once more, needy lips pressing to yours in a longer, deeper kiss. His kisses were messy in the best way possible, oscillating between the need and shyness, refraining into more contained movements right after deepening it and getting lost on your lips, trying to get a grip of himself again. “Do you like this?” Luke’s lips grazed yours as he spoke.

“Mhm. So good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, mirroring his smile. He couldn’t be close enough.

Something shifted in Luke’s gaze as he tilted his head; it was like you were the most precious thing in the whole universe. He kissed you again, letting it last longer, as his thumbs ran along your cheekbones. “You’re so good at this,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you tightly while nuzzling your nose. “I love being close to you like this.”

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡���⋆ ✩°｡⋆

[maareyas]

Comet's Log: Chao Garden

"I found what I think are like those dirt gardens that I’ve seen some Surfacers have back home. This one seems fancier though. There’s a rock formation with water just pouring out by itself, no pipes or anything; as well as some pretty plants. But, what’s really interesting are these tiny creatures that are living here. They have big heads and weird eyes that are kinda ugly (in a cute way)! They seem friendly enough too. Like, a few of them had sharp teeth, but nobody bit me or anything. Didn’t even really pay me any mind at all. My stomach rumbled real loud (I forgot I hadn’t eaten since before I got here!) all of a sudden. Then one of the little guys, a blue and yellow one, walked over with this weird fruit(?) in its teeny-tiny arms. It was trying to give it to me! How sweet! Unfortunately, I didn’t want to eat it because it might be poisonous.  I tried to communicate that I didn’t want it, but the little guy insisted. A few more of them noticed and came over to see what was going on. I panicked, so…I just flew away and didn’t look back. I still feel kind of bad about it."

Extras below the cut:

I've decided to make the raw .clip layers available for download [HERE] for educational purposes. if y'all want it <3

Also! the purple chao is @genotaurus' Cloudy ✨

Some Edea lore notes:

Chao don't exist on Edea

Since she grew up in a space colony, Comet is only familiar with hydroponic farms/gardens. Dirt farms only exist on Edea's surface.

Also because of growing up on Ark Elysium, Comet barely has any experience interacting with "wild animals" or even pets in general.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

some real nagi thoughts

a/n; it's some god gamer nagi time. as a gamer myself, i want some real gamer shit in headcanons. we may want a duo in gaming but only in genshin??? HELL NO. im like half sorry to genshin players. there's probably some crazy power creep in that, with the amount of characters they have now

[implied to be no blue lock project]

unapologetic gamer! nagi who hate matching pfps and usernames. do you know how weird those can get, especially on the horniest fps games? he doesn't hate you for the idea, he hates the reputation that comes with it.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who plays (mostly) everything, mmos, rpgs, card battlers, moba, rts, auto battlers, etc. he does not limit himself (kind of), and he's okay with playing games on his own.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who cannot simply pause his online matches for you. you'll have a damn hard time getting him off those ones. "it's too much of a bother to leave the match now, i'll get a timeout if i leave."

unapologetic gamer! nagi who hates gacha games because "it's always more of a cash grab than most games i even play." and he plays games from riot and ea company.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who has definitely went free to play on other games just out of pure spite when he heard about how bad genshin was. "there's no excuse for them to be so stingy, they didn't learn from honkai impact."

unapologetic gamer! nagi who loves gore and horror games more than anything. he won't stop playing those. he'll be considerable enough to play away from you if you hate them, but he's like locked in, headphones on max, and stuck in his chair. you're not getting him back for hours.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who plays slow games despite how much they make him tired. he can't play life/farming sims because of this. he can do his best to speedrun it but he gets impatient.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who jumps from game to game. he gets fixated on different games every few months. when you see him, he's talking about them casually, or he's infodumping everything he physically can. he has that little passionate shine in his eyes, like when he plays a good game of soccer.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who plays ranked like the loser he is. he doesn't really care about the toxic people in those matches. he likes a challenge. but he does unintentionally rile people up though with his nonchalant and blunt words. don't play ranked with this man, he is in diamond/low masters, and he is so tilted about it even if he doesn't say it.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who definitely needs to be taken care of. god help him, reo was a godsend to deal with his shit. when he gets tilted, he's somehow even more lazier than he normally is. "being angry is such a hassle." but you know he's fucking pissed off out of his mind about to smash his desk about that one bad match that gets him de-ranked.

[virginsexgod69]

❝Here for You❞

paring: Rick Grimes x f!Reader

summary: After Lori's death, you're there to comfort Rick in any way he needs.

Set in season 3 in the prison after Lori's death

word count: 1,569

content warnings: NSFW // smut // angst // hurt no comfort // pining

cross posted on ao3!

You've always had a thing for Rick. Ever since he arrived at the camp in Atlanta, you had your eye on him.

But he was married.

You weren't a home-wrecker. You wouldn't dare intrude on the happy relationship of a man who was reunited with his family he thought was dead. But that didn't stop you from stealing glances. Sometimes you swore you could feel his blue eyes staring at you too. At some point, those stolen glances turned into the two of you looking longingly at each other. Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same about you?

But be was married.

The longing looks weren't the only thing setting your heart ablaze. It was the way Rick would place his hands on your hips whenever he needed to get by. The way his touch would linger. Not only that, but he was so protective of you, but never controlling . He even took the time to teach you how to properly use a gun. And he always, always made sure you had something to eat, even if it meant less for him. He had to have liked you just a little bit, right?

But be was married.

You knew for sure you'd never have a shot with Rick after you found out Lori was pregnant. Even if nobody could be sure the baby's his, he still stuck by her and who were you to get between that.

But still, that did nothing to stop the fleeting moments between the two of you. In fact, they seemed to happen even more. Maybe he indulged in his desires a bit to soothe his aching heart from the pain of not really knowing if his unborn baby was his. Despite all of this, you fought hope. You wanted him so so bad, but you knew there wasn't a chance in hell it would happen.

Because he was married.

But then he wasn't. Shit hit the fan: the farm was overrun by walkers, Sophia turned, Shane was killed, Andrea never came back, a prison became a home, a baby was born... oh , and Lori died.

It's not like that made you happy. You were sad that she didn't get to say goodbye, that she didn't get time with her newborn, that Rick lost his wife. It took a toll on him. He wasn't the same. He was crazy even. Everyone was on edge around him, constantly walking eggshells as to not set him off. There was just so much tension.

And the tension felt even more uncomfortable as the two of you made your way back to the prison after an unsuccessful run. The tension practically filled the little green car with all the words left unsaid, questions left unasked, feelings left unknown. So, you decided to speak to him for the first time in months.

"Are you okay?" you asked timidly.

His knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel even tighter.

" 'M fine," he mumbled not taking his eyes off the road.

That was a damn lie and you both knew it.

"Rick," you said softly, "we're alone now. If you want to talk abou-"

"I said I'm fine!"

He may not have wanted to talk, but you could tell he needed to be comforted and you wanted to be the one to offer him that comfort, no matter how he wanted it. No matter how he needed it.

You placed a gentle hand on his knee, much like how he used to do to you before everything happened.

He sighed with relent before pulling the car over and putting it in park. He placed his hand on top of yours and looked over at you. You fought not to get lost in the sea of his blue eyes as you stared back at him.

"I'm.. I'll be fine, I promise."

You leaned closer to him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek and he leaned into your touch.

"Y'know I'm here to comfort you, right? In any way you need me, I'm here," you promised.

His baby blue eyes drifted from yours down to your lips. His whole demeanor changed. He relaxed for the first time in a while. So much so, he let his inhibitions go as he pulled you closer and crashed his lips into yours.

So many feelings rushed through your head the second your lips made contact. You were shocked. You dreamed and fantasized about this moment forever and now that it was finally happening, you weren't going to let it slip through your fingers. You reciprocated the kiss, indulging in every second before Rick hastily pulled away.

"I'm so sorry," he said between gentle pants "I shouldn't have done that."

Your heart sank. You resented that he regretted your happiest moment.

"Rick," you said with your forehead still against his, "I want this. I want you ." You didn't care how desperate you sounded. Once you got a taste of Rick, you needed more.

And perhaps he felt the same about you because he didn't hesitate to pull you back in for another kiss. Trying your best not to break the kiss, you climbed from the passenger seat onto his lap. His tongue found its way into your mouth and tasted you as if he'd never get another taste. You moaned against his mouth as you tangled your hands in his curly hair. His hands traversed your body before practically tearing off the button up shirt you wore.

"You sure you want this?" he asked. His blue eyes, glistening in the sunlight, looked at you with uncertainty. You could tell he wanted this, but even more so he didn't want to hurt you.

You responded by grinding against his hardening bulge as you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss. His hands firmly gripped your hips as ground you onto his clothed erection. He pulled away from your mouth and placed open mouthed kisses down your neck. You didn't miss the occasional grunts you coaxed out of him which only encouraged you to keep going. He reached up and unclasped your bra, slid it off your arms, and tossed it aside. Embarrassed by the exposure, you automatically moved to cover yourself, but Rick caught your wrists.

"Don't. Let me see you. You're so beautiful," he rasped.

Oh Rick. He was even sweeter than you anticipated which set you ablaze and drove the butterflies in your tummy crazy. You needed him. You hurried to undo his belt as he was fondling your breasts while placing kisses along your collar bones. He lifted his hips just enough for you to pull his pants down. He took a nipple into his mouth as you palmed his bulge through his boxers.

"I-I need you," you wantonly moaned.

" 'M all yours."

You freed his rock hard erection from his boxers and stroked it a few times before moving to pull off your own pants. Rick helped you get out of them, stopping for a second to admire the wetness accumulated in your panties. He pulled them aside and lined his dick with your entrance, letting you slowly sink down on it. He stretched you so good that the pain only added to your pleasure.

"I've fantasized about you since you arrived at the camp in Atlanta," you confessed.

"I can't say I haven't wanted you this way for a while too. Whenever I caught you staring at me with those doe eyes, my imagination ran wild."

Once you felt comfortable enough, you began to move. You held onto his shoulders for support as you bounced on his dick. He threw his head back as he moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. He couldn't take it anymore and held onto your hips again as he thrusted up into you. He watched you with admiration in his eyes as your breasts bounced with each and every one of his thrusts.

"You feel so good around my cock, princess."

"Oh god Rick, I think I'm gonna-"

You didn't get to finish your sentence since he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down for another kiss. Your walls clenched around him as his thrusts grew sloppy. You were both about to cum.

"That's it, cum for me Lori."

You both froze. The butterflies in your tummy were stabbed to death by the shards of your broken heart. You felt a lump in your throat as you tried to hold back the hot tears burning the corners of your eyes. Rick looked at you brokenheartedly with shame swimming in his eyes as you pulled yourself off of him.

"Lor- er, Y/N, I'm sor-"

"Don't."

God you sounded so... broken .

You both dressed yourselves in awkward silence. Rick sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He sounded like he wanted to say something, but decided against it, which was good because you'd have ignored him anyway.

"The sun's setting, we should get back to the prison," you said cooly.

"Y/N, I-"

"Just stop!"

A beat of silence passed and Rick finally started up the car and resumed the drive back to the prison.

You let your tears fall silently as you stared out the window, but you eventually closed your eyes. Your stomach churned at the sight of his wedding band's reflection in the window, signifying that even though his wife was dead, he was still married.

[meowmeowriley]

Well. I am now going crazy over Soap showing the team a picture of him holding a brace of fat, fluffy rabbits on his family's farm. The cuts are so clean there's hardly any blood staining their fur, and he's holding them so proudly, big wide smile on his face. And Ghost has some Feeeeeeeeelings about it does he want to hide from that sharp grin? does he want to be one of those rabbits, limp in Johnny's hand? would Johnny enjoy him as much as them?)

excuse me while i scream

😑 I hate you. I hate you, because I love this. (I don't actually hate you, anon, I could never ❤) I hadn't planned on going anywhere with this buuuuutttt.....

The subject of family came up, as it often does, but being on base and between missions, the men of the 141 could share photos.

Price showed the team pictures of himself as a boy, fishing with his dad. Some of him as an adult, more fishing. They'd all dismissed the boonie hat as being part of his wardrobe simply because he'd been issued it, but he hadn't. His grandfather had been issued the hat, and he'd worn it. And Price's father had worn it. And now him. The Price name had a legacy, stored in that hat.

Gaz shared photos of himself as a teen, his sisters, himself with his girlfriend. She was a shifter, though he didn't specify her species at first. She had gorgeous silky black hair, beautiful bronze skin. He said they'd met in Brazil, where she was from, and he was crazy about her. As he flipped through his camera roll on his phone, selfie after selfie of the two, each was more adorable than the last. She clung to Gaz, hung off him in nearly every picture. In some, her eyes were more black, than others. Sometimes she had black claws instead of fingernails.

"Why won't ye tell us, Gaz?"

"I don't want to have to hate you, mate."

"Tell us, and I'll tell you what I am." Ghost piped up from behind everyone.

Price's eyes went wide. He had no clue, though the other two thought he did. It had been erased from his file before they'd ever met, and he'd been denied any time he'd asked. Soap had nearly begged him, on multiple occasions. Gaz took the bait. "She's a spider shifter."

"What the fuuuuck?" Soap whispered. It earned him a smack from Gaz.

"Fuck off, Soap. Go on then, Ghost."

He smiled beneath his mask. "Well I never said when I'd tell you." He was smug, sue him. It earned him a laugh from Price, a groan from his sergeants. Soap took his turn next.

He had a photo album. Clearly well loved. Spoke of his family fondly. "Ah'm one of six, so there's plenty of picture." He was proud of his large family. Showed off pictures of tired yet happy parents, fields and a little farm house. Picture of his siblings. And then he saw it. A picture of a young man, unmistakably Johnny, even though his eyes were too narrow to see the brilliant blue, his enormous toothy smile gave him away. the young teen held a brace of rabbits, both tied by their rear legs together. Bloody noses the only real sign of their demise, other than the fact that they were held upside down by a kid.

It wasn't really a surprise, Soap had been vocal since the task force had been formed about his love for rabbits, that he'd grown up with meat rabbits, that he loved the taste. His mother had even sent him a care package on multiple occasions with rabbit stew, which he immediately tore into. He'd offer to share with the rest of the team. Nobody noticed that all but Ghost accepted.

Soap's voice was muffled. Ghost barely made out something about it being his first time, and he was proud. One of the rabbits had a light grey pelt. Light grey interspersed with white and black, similar to that of some wild rabbits. It could easily be a smaller version of himself. It could be him. The feeling churning within himself, he couldn't place. He wanted to thump, to warn the others, there's danger here... But... That could be him. And would it really be so bad? If it were Johnny to string him up as such?

The page turned.

Ghost started.

He hadn't realized the others were still talking. He couldn't hear them. How long had it been? It was then he realized he'd gone tharn. Instinct had taken over, and like many of his kin he'd frozen in the face of danger. That had never happened to him before. But then again, the danger had never been so tempting.

As the second youngest of twelve, Simon had known from a young age he was different than his siblings. He was off. He had a screw loose. It was always blamed on his father, he and Tommy having a different one to the rest. But Tommy turned out okay. Simon joined the army. In the army his twisted nature suited their needs just fine.

Soap finished up.

All turned to Ghost.

His hands clenched around the book he had stored in the long pocket of his jumper. It was special. A copy of Watership Down, his favorite book as a child and the thing his mother blamed for his desire to serve, but this one was different. When he'd signed up, his eldest sister had gone to the bookshop and bought this one, then had it rebound with photo slots at the end of it. His favorite story, and his favorite people. It contained photos of his family. His mother, eleven siblings, and numerous niblings. Himself. With so many, it was nearly impossible to take a photo where no one was shifted. And it was actually impossible to get one without at least partial shifts.

He swallowed down the instinct to run, and removed his hands from his pocket.

[tallteenturtle]

Nancy Drew: Curse of Blackmoor Manor

I fell down a bit of a heraldry rabbit hole recently and decided to spend several hours compiling info about the Penvellyn family off the wiki and then used online heraldry resources to analyze their individual coat of arms. Did the game devs intend the shields to be interpreted this way? Probably not. But if I dont over-analyze 20 year old childrens computer games what else am I going to do with my life??

Here are all the people whose portraits hang in the great hall along with info we learn about them from Jane (and occasionally Nigel), their coat of arms, and my amateur interpretation of the symbolism.

Randulf ( - 1401)

“Randulf the Red, so named for his bright red hair, was considered a hero at the Battle of Poitiers. For his heroism, King Edward III awarded him with the lands in the region called "Penvellyn". That's how we got our name.”

Randulf's coat of arms says "IN HOC SIGNO" which translates to "in this sign (you will conquer)"

Comet; unknown in heraldry but refers to the family treasure

Red; Military might, warrior.

(putting the rest under the cut to save you much scrolling)

Odo (1354 – 1404)

“Yeah, he isn't very exciting, really. Liked farming and cows. His son Milo is much more interesting.”

“Those Manuscripts are very old and brittle. They date back to the 14th century. Odo Penvellyn collected most of them. His father Randulf and son Milo were rather more interested in military victories than in book collecting.”

Odo's coat of arms says "PROSPERITAS" which translates to "success".

Milo (1376 – 1423)

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Deer/hart; One who will not fight unless provoked, peace and harmony

“Milo inherited not only his grandfather's red hair but his military prowess. Milo was instrumental in the Siege of Caen and was awarded even more lands by Henry V.”

Milo's coat of arms says "VICTUM INVIDEO SILENTE" which translates to "the conquered shall envy the dead".

Hugo (1401 – 1466)

Comet; unknown in heraldry

Red; Military might, warrior

Teardrop; “One who has endured torrents”

“Um, he had a lot of kids, and his dates were 1401 to 1466.”

Hugo's coat of arms says "CITO FIT QUOD DEI VOLUNT" which translates to "what the gods want happens soon".

Albert (1427 – 1508)

Bee; Industrious, diligent

Acorn; Antiquity, strength

Red; Military might, warrior

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

“He was very mysterious and the people of Blackmoor were afraid of him because he knew all these scientific things. No one knows much about him, though.”

Albert's coat of arms says "TIMENDI CAUSA EST NESCIRE" which translates to "ignorance is the cause of fear".

Edmund (1447 – 1499)

Book (open); Manifestation, knowledge

Blue; Truth, loyalty

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

“He was into cows. He did a lot of breeding of cows and sheep and got some kind of award from the King.”

Edmund's coat of arms says "UT SEMENTUM FECERIS ITA METES" which translates to "As you sow, so shall you reap".

Charles (1478 – 1553)

Hawk (Falcon): One who does not rest until objective achieved, purpose, goal-oriented

Red; Military might, warrior

Blue; Truth, loyalty

"Ooh, ooh - Charles was a very famous judge and wrote very important books on law. But his boy, Garrett, drowned when he was really young.”

Charles's coat of arms says "MINIMA MAXIMA SUNT" which translates to "The smallest things are the most important".

Thomas (1526 – 1584)

Rainbow; Good times after bad

Moon; Serene power over the mundane

Sun; Creativity and enlightenment

Blue; Truth, loyalty

“He was Charles's grandson and wrote a lot of poetry. He also had 3 wives: Catherine, Anne, and Mary. But not like at the same time. They died and he just remarried.”

Thomas's coat of arms says "AGE PRO VIRIBUS" which translates to "in all that you do, do your best".

James (1560 – 1650)

Eagle (2 heads); Joining 2 strong forces

Purple; Nobility and justice

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

T is presumably for Thomas, no heraldic meaning

“He never married but one day, when he was very old, a baby was found on the doorstep to the manor. He took her in and raised her as his own. That was Elinor.”

James's coat of arms says "ARS LONGA" which translates to "art lives long" (from the phrase, ars longa vita brevis - art is long, life is short).

Elinor (1626 – 1650)

Maltese cross; Blessings, protection

Red; Military might, warrior

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Blue; Truth, loyalty

Purple; Nobility and justice

“Just that she was burned as a witch but it wasn't true and her father, James, died when he saw her die and then the family fled to France. I don't want to talk about this.”

Elinor's coat of arms says "AUDACES FORTUNA IUVAT" which translates to "fortune favors the bold".

Corbin (1670 – 1741)

Lion rampant; Courage, integrity, strength

Red; Military might, warrior

Purple; Nobility and justice

“Uh…I dunno. He doesn't have a coat of arms in the Great Hall because he didn't live here; wasn't even a British subject. That's all I know.”

Corbin's coat of arms says "NUNQUAM DEDISCEO" which translates to "never forget".

This shield is notably absent from the great hall, and also is the only one to feature decoration on the outside of the shield.

Sun; Fountain of life, intelligence, innovation, creativity, enlightenment

Wheat; Faithful

Vines/Ivy; Strong and lasting friendship, academia

Philippe (1689 – 1777)

“He made a fortune in the New World and bought back most of the lands that were confiscated by Cromwell.”

Philippe's coat of arms says "NOVUS MUNDUS" which translates to "a new world".

Penelope (1714 – 1783)

Fleur de Lis; Symbol of France

Purple; Nobility and justice

Blue; Truth, loyalty

“I don't know very much about her, except that she was very loved by practically everyone in England, and there were a million poems written about her.”

“Those are mainly Penelope Penvellyn's collections of French novels. She was a patron to a raft of artists, and her salon was quite popular. She was quite the libertine, even kept her maiden name after her marriage.”

Penelope's coat of arms says "PULCHRITUDO IN OMNIA" which translates to "there is beauty in all things".

Martha (1739 – 1791)

Pegasus; Poetic genius and inspiration

Fleur de lis; Symbol of France

Lion rampant; Courage and integrity

Wheel; fortune, cycle of life

Purple; Nobility and justice

Red; Military might, warrior

“She was completely daft - she'd wear really bizarre outfits and she was one of the first women to ride on a steam train.” (This is particularly impressive as the steam train did not exist until 10 years after her death. Oops!)

Martha's coat of arms says "SINE SCIENTIA ARS NIHIL EST" which translates to "without understanding, art is nothing".

Brigitte (1759 – 1833)

Unicorn; Extreme courage, virtue, strength.

Teardrop symbolism; “One who has endured torrents” gold means generosity or elevation of the mind.

The gear and atom are not traditional heraldic symbols but can represent progress and science.

Red; Military might, warrior

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Blue; Truth, loyalty

Purple; Nobility and justice

“She never married and was bonkers for astronomy; she adopted her sister's son, Richard, who later got killed at Waterloo."

Brigitte's coat of arms says "LUDI SINE GAUDIO LUDI NON SUNT" which translates to "sport without fun is not sport."

"Brigitte with her eyes so bright, looks toward heaven at midnight on the longest night of year, that's the one she holds most dear. 'Starry friends,' she's often heard to say, 'how I wish that I could make you stay.' She knows though they can't remain, time will bring them 'round again."

Only shield to have white decorations on the colored background

Star; Divine quality from above

Dove; Loving constancy and peace

Compass; Direction

Purple; Nobility and justice

Richard (1787 – 1815)

“He died in Waterloo fighting against Napoleon.”

Richard's coat of arms says "SI SIC OMNES" which translates to "if only this could last forever".

Edward (1809 – 1904)

Banner down center shield (the Pale); Military or defensive strength

Star; Divine quality from above. The specific star (nautical star) is not traditional heraldry but symbolizes finding way home.

Red; Military might, warrior

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Purple; Nobility and justice

“He was a big explorer and went all over the world. He wasn't very close with his son, who was also an explorer. They'd only see each other by chance in weird remote places like Samarkand or Walla Walla.”

Edward's coat of arms says "BIS VIVAT QUI BON VIVAT" which translates to "Whoever lives well lives twice".

Knight (especially on horseback); The soul guiding the body; man’s journey through life

Lightning Bolt: Swiftness and power; spiritual enlightenment.

Unicorn; Extreme courage, virtue, strength.

I dont know what the warrior with the spear and sword means

Scepter; Emblem of Justice

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Blue; Truth, loyalty

William (1833 – 1901)

“He was an explorer, just like his father. He was kind of a whiner, so I heard.”

William's coat of arms says "DIES PERDIDI" which translates to "another day wasted".

John (1873 – 1954)

Bend Sinister (the band across the shield); Sometimes used to indicate illegitimacy. If that is the meaning here that would be very interesting and explain why he wasnt close with his father

Red; Military might, warrior

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

“He was this huge naturalist and did a lot of exploration in the Amazon. I think there's a plant named after him. Or maybe a monkey; I forget.”

John's coat of arms says "PER AURES AD ANIMUM" which translates to "through the ears to the spirit".

Malachi (1894 – 1972)

Parrot and mouth not traditional symbols but probably represent interest in wildlife and linguistics.

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Blue; Truth, loyalty

“He was a doctor of medicine and did a lot of research on icky skin diseases.”

Malachi's coat of arms says "NUMEN LUMEN" which translates to "divine light is my guide".

Alan (1923 – 1993)

Sun; Fountain of life, intelligence, innovation, creativity, enlightenment

Purple; Nobility and justice

“He was my grandfather but I didn't know him because he died when I was little. I guess he was nice.”

Alan's coat of arms says "PURGAMENTUM EXIT" which translates to "garbage out" (referencing part of a programmers' saying "garbage in, garbage out").

Serpent; Wisdom

Red; Military might, warrior

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Night in New Orleans

Normally the men Y/N is in charge of managing are the ones getting in trouble, not the other way arround. This time, while shooting in Louisiana for the second movie, it’s a bit of both.

Johnny Knoxville X Gn!Reader, Bam Margera X Gn!Reader (if you squint)

(Fluff)

5.7k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, crude language, heavy nudity, alcohol, drug use, fights, blood, hurt/comfort, flirting, stripping, fighting

An: Another manager Y/N fic!! I can’t seem to get away from this premise for the life of me! XD they’re just so fun to write for!! Also as proof of how much research goes into these fics, every location mentioned in this fic is entirely real and on Bourbon Street! I had an ex that went to New Orleans but I’ve never been there myself, so I could only hope it’s as wild as I immagine it to be! Also, this fic takes place ~2006 during the filming of Jackass Number Two because they filmed a good chunk of that movie in Louisiana! Anyways,thank you for sending in requests and please keep sending them!

Backroads seemed to stretch on forever as you ranted to Jeff on the phone, “MTV is not paying me enough for this shit! I mean, it's bad enough I gotta spend every day with idiots, now I’m the one who’s gotta find them when they run off?” The dusty road ahead of you was solely illuminated by the one working headlight on the van as you drove through the darkness, your only source of direction being the man you were on the phone with, “It's not my fault they decided to run off to some ranch in the middle of Nowhere, Louisiana!” You rolled your eyes, leaning forward against the wheel to try and see ahead as he sighed, “Listen, we gotta shoot in the morning so just get them back to the hotel. Manage the talent!” Click.

Fuckin Jeff, making you go out in the middle of the night in the stupid van that was bumbling allong on its last legs- you didn’t even want to immagine what went down in it based on how it smelled. The whole ‘manage the talent’ thing became almost a motto for when shit turned sour but calling them talent was an overstatement. This is what chauffeurs- better yet, the town dog catcher is for, not managers. Thanks to his amazing directions, you ended up at a ranch, sure, but it seemed practically deserted as you pulled up into the dirt parking lot. Squinting into the darkness, you could barely make out the carved writing on the wooden sign that hung over the front gate that read, ‘New-D Ranch’, whatever that meant. You waited for a few minutes, trying to catch a breeze from the one working AC vent while wondering why the hell you hadn’t quit already to find a job somewhere a little more sane before you heard the swish of the doors behind you opening.

You knew it was Johnny who called shotgun when you heard the slight twang in his grumble as he slid in the passenger seat, “Christ, for a nudist ranch you’d think there’d be more chicks…” Blinking, you turned to him, looking him up and down. Shoulders, chest, thighs- oh god he was naked. Well, naked save for those stupid sunglasses he never seemed to take off. The guys chattered amongst themselves in the back seat as you whipped your head around- yeah, them too. Knoxville must have seen how big your eyes got or the blush that spread across your cheeks, and judging by the way he chuckled a little and let his knees drift apart as he settled down in his seat, he didn’t seem to mind. Pervert. It’s not like you could help it that he was so shameless and all blue and glowy from the way the moon kissed his skin. Finally, you got your words out, yanking the van into gear as you peeled out, “Why are you all naked?”

Admittedly, you were speeding a little down the desolate road while Chris and Steve filled you in on how they heard about this totally rad nudie ranch from this guy at the hotel bar and were down to get with some really hot chicks that night, but all they found there were dudes and farm animals. Every now and then you would sneak a glance over at Johnny who was still wearing that shit eating grin he always had when he knew he was pushing your buttons. You didn’t want to debate yourself if this whole thing was turning you on or pissing you off, but you didn’t have a whole lot of time to consider it as you saw those flashing red and blue lights in your rear view mirror. Shit.

What a perfect time to get pulled over. Veering the car off to the gravelly shoulder, you did the routine. Yes officer. No, I don’t know why I got pulled over. My license? Oh sure! Right here, officer! He flashed that stupid little flashlight inside the car and audibly gasped as he gawked at the proud exhibitionists- that is, all except Bam, who was redder than a tomato and practically squirming in his seat as he desperately tried to cover up his junk. You could tell Officer Friendly got a little uncomfortable with the way Chris suggestively raised his eyebrows at him from the way he stuttered as he continued his police spiel, “May I ask why you are out at this hour with a- a van full of nude men?” Thinking for a moment, you tried to come up with a worthwhile excuse, “Well, I, uh- these are my brothers, officer, and they had a little too much to drink tonight, so they called me to pick them up from the bar!” Making eye contact across the center counsel, Johnny nodded with a very clear tone of amusement in his voice, “Yeah, brothers.” The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

All the cop could do was awkwardly ask for your license and go back to his car, leaving you alone in the oppressive humidity and near silence as crickets chirped faintly. Turning around, about to deliver the lecture of a lifetime, you noticed Steve eerily uiet and nevrous, of all things. Looking up at you from his nails that he was biting to the nub, there was a trace of panic in Steve’s eyes as he started, not even waiting for you to ask what was wrong, “I’m fuckin’ naked and I gotta warrant, man! I-I can’t go t’jail- not like this…” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics- really it wouldn’t surprise you if they all had warrants based on the shit you had to get them out of. As he stood up a little to get a better view out the front window, he anxiously bounced his leg, murmuring to himself, “Fuck, man. That’s it. I-I’m gonna make a run for it.” Your eyes shot open and you pushed him back into his seat. If there was anything you didn’t need tonight, it was a naked man under your care on the loose, so you shut that down fast, “Steve! Stay!”

When the cop returned, the guys turned to look in completely different directions so as to not appear suspicious as you got the news that everything seemed fine with your license. He let you off with a warning and a shake of his head, muttering something about you taking your brothers home to sober up and getting some damn clothes on them while you were at it. Yes, officer. Thank you, have a nice night, officer. As you started back to the hotel, Chris, who was previously distracted by looking at fireflies out the window, noticed something, “Woah, dude. What’s wrong?” Glancing in your rear view mirror as you pulled away, you saw Bam, in between Steve and Chris, white as a ghost with sweat just pouring down his face. Running a hand through his soaked curls, he shook his head, “Shit, dude! I was worried- like, I-I’m small and cute! And naked!” Johnny turned to face him and piped up, “And famous.” Bam disregarded any traces of sarcasm as he turned to you, “And famous! I’d get the shit kicked out of me, dude!” With how cool these guys were normally, the way they freaked out when a cop showed up surprised you.

By some miracle you made it to the hotel, a motel, if you were being honest, in the middle of bourbon street. The place was the definition of a shithole, but you’d stayed in worse and it was better than sleeping in the van so you made do with the used condoms under the bed and roaches in the bathroom because if they could survive this, so could you. Not wanting to leave the guys unsupervised for too long, you decided that your best bet at getting the guys from the car to the room would have to be something in the near vicinity, and while scanning the parking lot, you got an idea so good it made you want to ask for a raise. An assured grin crossed your face, ”I’ll be back.” Just as you were halfway out the door you heard Bam protest with an exhausted sigh, “Fuck it! I’m going with you.” He climbed over Chris to open the door, putting his hands up as he got over his previously held shyness at being nude in front of others, “I’ve been sittin’ between two naked dudes and I gotta get the fuck outta here.” Stopping just before an indecent exposure charge, he held his hand out to you, “Gimme your jacket.”

Begrudgingly handing over your hoodie to Bam, he casually tied it around his waist backwards to cover his crotch loincloth-style as you made a mental note to wash it before you wore it next time it got chilly. Decent enough, you thought, shaking your head as you walked towards the shitty hotel pool that glowed teal in the night. You tried to pretend he wasn’t there as he followed on your heels through the parking lot and through the metal gates that fenced the pool in. As you nearly dove into the big plastic green thing that housed the neatly folded towels, you heard Johnny wolf whistle from the van. Initially assuming that it was directed towards you, you flipped up, clutching an armful of fluffy white fabric, but before you could shout something back you very quickly noticed that Bam’s pale little ass was just completely out. Goddamn it. As you handed out the towels, he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest when Chris chuckled and said something about hating to see Bam go but loving to watch him leave.

Making sure to stay behind the group like a Border Collie to a herd of sheep, you marched the idiots through the lobby who were miraculously dry despite allegedly having come from the pool. As celebrities go, they didn’t attract as much attention as you would have otherwise expected, but that didn’t stop a few drunken women splayed out in the wide, red silk upholstered chairs in the lobby from loudly propositioning them. Steve threw up a ‘call me’ gesture and Bam dragged his feet, whining something about you never letting them have any fun as you nudged them along. You were so exhausted that you didn’t even bat an eye when Chris ‘accidentally’ dropped his towel and glanced back at you with a finger over his lips like one of those pin up girls. Humorously snatching the towel off of the ground, you shoved it into his arms as you all crowded into the tiny, rickety elevator that was surely over it”s weight limit. How strange it must have looked from an outsider’s perspective- you and four nearly naked men, all packed shoulder to shoulder into that tiny space. But you were too tired to care about any of that, leaning your forehead against the wall with a thump as the doors closed.

You were the one Jeff gave the keys to because you were the only one deemed responsible enough, so you tossed them to Bam as he passed you in the hall, but while the others were stumbling in and tossing off their towels, Johnny lingered in the hall as you went to unlock your room. The hallway was only maybe wide enough for you to stand on one side and stretch your arm out to touch the other side, so you really had to look up to talk to him, “Where’re you going?” Holding his towel up far too low with one hand, Johnny shrugged, leaning against the wall opposite to you, “M’goin t’our room.” Most people, if they were in your shoes, staring up maybe six inches away from this ruggedly handsome, partially nude man, would fold like a house of cards, but you were not most people, so you kept your composure. Shrugging, you unlocked your room. “No, this is my room.” The dryness of your words contracted with the playful tone in his voice, “You sure ‘bout that?” Tossing your keys into the bed, you turned to him flatly, “Yep!” Johnny shrugged, turning to leave before dropping his towel. He cackled that signature Knoxville laugh, picking it up only after he heard you snicker from your doorway.

After sending the kids off to daycare, you finally got a moment to yourself. Your day was mostly spent lounging about your room, trying to savor the peace and quiet however short lived it may be. But it came to a stop all too soon when your hotel room phone started ringing- it was Bam, who was apparently too lazy to just go next door and knock. He mumbled over the line, sounding a little embarrassed to ask you, “We wanna go out, n’Jeff says we can’t without you.” This premise never ends well. Hearing your sigh, he turned defensive, “Hey! We just wanna go get some food, okay? That’s it! Jeez…” In the background, you could hear Johnny say something about how the boys were starvin’ over there. “Okay, fine!” You relented after hesitating for a moment, “As long as it's just for food.”

The group walked through a blur of light and sound, dazzling neon signs flanking either side of the street: Bourbon Gifts Cigar Shop, Tropical Isle- Home of the Hand Grenade, signs advertising $5 Jager Bombs, but no restaurants. The guys seemed to have completely forgotten about looking for dinner, more concerned with what trouble they could get into than feeding themselves. “C’mon, Bam! I know this kickass voodoo lady that lives ‘round here- she’ll totally get us footage!” Steve’s excitement was met with a shudder, “No fuckin way, man. Like I wanna get hit by brooms’n play with snakes ‘n shit.” Maybe the fact that Johnny was holding the portable video camera from the hotel room should’ve tipped you off that they may not have been on the prowl for food. He chuckled, turning to Steve, “She sounds sweet. Think’y could get me her number?”

So far you had done a pretty good job at keeping the guys together, even if you had to grab their hands and tug them through the crowds like you were their mother when you caught them rubbernecking to peep into whatever strip club you were walking past. Suddenly, you saw Chris dart away from the pack. You weren't sure if it was the Penthouse Club, the Kama Sutra Cabaret, or Lary Flynt’s Hustler Club that he b-lined it into, but just as soon as he did, the rest of the guys followed quickly behind, leaving you stranded. Knowing how much shit you would get into if you lost one of them or god forbid someone got arrested, you went after them.

Given your line of work, you would’ve thought that, by this point, you would have gotten a little more familiar with the inside of one of these places, but nope. This place was on some real Girls, Girls, Girls shit, like the image of a strip club- mirror poles, velvet tablecloths, and women wearing barely more than a smile and nine inch heels. Averting your eyes from the ladies onstage, you let out a sigh of relief when you spotted Knoxville sitting at the bar. Hopping up onto the tall red vinyl stool next to him, you let out a sigh of relief as Johnny glanced over to you and let out a chuckle, taking a sip of his beer before reassuring you like he could read your concerns without you having to open your mouth, “If you’re lookin’ for the fellas, they’re out on the floor. S’not like they’re goin’ far”

Rolling your eyes, you kept your head low as you scouted the place out. “I thought we were gettin’ dinner.” This was not the kind of place you wanted to be found in, and you bet Johnny could tell from how entertained he seemed at your discomfort, looking you up and down, “Well, for these guys, this is dinner.” You couldn’t deny, you actually were kinda hungry, distracting yourself by eyeing the initials that were keyed into the countertop, “I don’t even think they have food here…” Knoxville nudged a glass bowl of peanuts sitting on the bar top toward you with a smirk. “Here,” He grabbed one himself, crushing the shell in his hand before tossing one in his mouth with a smirk, “Lemme buy you dinner.” Taking one from the bowl yourself, you scoffed, a smile ghosting over your face as you murmured, “Oh, you’re quite the gentleman, Knoxville. Strip joint and peanuts.” Laughing, he relented to you, “Alright, how about I make it up to you with a nice dinner sometime- one good dinner? I owe you.” Wait, was he asking you on a date? Before you could consider maybe taking him up on that offer, you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Hey, hey- Y/N!”

Turning around, you weren’t sure if you were annoyed or relieved to see Bam standing behind you, holding out a fifty, “Y’got any singles?” It was like a kid asking his mom for money to go to the movies. Johnny shrugged, turning to you to remark, “I mean, at least he’s tippin’ the ladies. Not like Steve-O over there.” He jabbed a thumb at the corner where Steve sat, a herd of women clustered around him. Sure, Steve never tipped, but every time you saw him at the club, he was never drooling over the strippers. Instead, he would be sitting over in the corner, just chatting up the ladies while they were on their break. Strangely enough, they always seemed to be more than eager to hang out with him, waving and blowing him kisses as they headed back onstage. It bewildered you, but it was kinda sweet in a weird way. “Wha- no! I don’t have any singles!” Bam shrugged at your reaction, turning to walk away, “Ah, I’m sure I can get some at the bar. Thanks though!”

The question you were about to ask Johnny, about where Chris was at, was answered before you could ask it. Just as Bam ran up to the edge of the stage with a handful of singles, excited to see some T and A, you could see his face just fall as he muttered to himself at the sight in front of him, “This is so fucked up….” You yourself stared slack jawed as Johnny snickered at the sight of Party Boy himself strutting out onto the stage wearing nothing but his silver mankini while the beginning riff of one of those cock rock strip club songs started up. Not one to miss this kind of thing for the world, Knoxville whipped out the camera to capture the wide eyed shock in Bam’s eyes that turned to disgust when Chris started his little routine, eyeing the fat stack of ones in his hand. He kept inching closer and closer to the edge of the stage- specifically, closer to Bam. Getting down on his knees, Chris wasn’t shy in the slightest about shaking what he had (which he had quite a great deal of), barely inches from his face. Even you couldn’t deny that he was pretty damn good up there, and it seemed that Johnny agreed as he got up to toss a couple singles up there with a whistle. As the song reached a crescendo, everything seemed to reach a fever pitch and Bam hurriedly shoved the bills in his arms onto the stage, unable to stand it any longer, “Just take my money- and get your junk outa my face!” Pontius smirked, tucking the cash in the strap of his mankini with a wink. He whispers something you couldn’t quite hear, but you assumed was some sort of flirty comment from the way Bam rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You know, this is how I wanna spend my night.” Johnny turned to you as you tried to speak up over the music, “Watching Chris strip.” He chuckled, leaning back on the sticky bar, drink in hand. “Yeah, me too.” The incandescent lights of the club looked so pretty in the reflection of Johnny’s glasses that you hardly noticed when Bam ran back to the bar in the stupid little way he ran everywhere, as Candy or Trixie or whoever was strutting out onstage. He just happened to cross paths with Chris, walking off the stage and flipping through all fifty two dollars he got. Bam stopped him in his tracks with a hand on his baby oil covered chest, “Dude. Gimme my money back.” Chris just gave him that stoner laugh and shook his head, “No way! I earned this. How about you go up there and shake your little moneymaker?” Bam turned a little red and debated arguing or just getting more money. Looking back up at the stage, he gave in, more concerned with what article of clothing the girl on stage was shedding than his own money.

But just a few moments later, it was him who was getting physically tossed out onto the sidewalk, landing on his ass. All you saw was this little dark blur getting hoisted up by this bouncer twice it’s size and going flying out the doors. Of course, all the guys followed behind, laughing as he stumbled to his feet. “Rookie mistake, man.” Steve joked, his hands in his pockets as a curious few of the ladies peered out the door after him. You should’ve known that of all people it would be Bam who got a little too handsy with the girls. Nobody on the street even stared at the spectacle as you fled outside after them. “Okay, that’s it- let’s just call it a night.” The guys collectively groaned about you being a killjoy and begged for just one more stop at another bar for a nightcap as you threw your hands up in the air, not easily swayed, “C’mon, it’s a sign. Let’s just get you all back to the hotel…”

You got them safely tucked away in their room for the night, but of course the chaos didn’t cease. Maybe an hour passed after you collapsed onto your mattress with the lights off, trying to get a few hours of shuteye before you had to deal with them in the morning when the shouting started. Chalking it up to some couple having a marital dispute next door, you brushed it off until you realized which room it was coming from. Oh. Oh no. Clambering to your feet, you jumped at the telltale sound of an appliance shattering against a wall and tried to run the numbers of how much that’d cost to cover as you scrambled out the door. Hoping it was just a coffee maker or something and not a repeat of the time Bam hurled an entire Zenith television out of a plate glass door, you barged in the room.

Now, you didn’t know what the argument was initially about, but you got the gist of it as Steve’s elbow made contact with your mouth, slamming into you. Everything froze. Just your luck to get caught in the crossfire of one of his drug induced fits. Bam, who was on the other side of the room, was completely shirtless, as was Steve, but significantly more all together mentally and seeming to be on the other side of whatever conflict was happening. Running your tongue over your teeth, you confirmed that none of them were missing, but that wet iron taste lingered on your lips. “Holy shit…” This quickly sobered Steve up, whose voice was barely a whisper as he watched the blood that got Jackson Pollocked all over your face drip down your chin and neck. That was one way to break up a fight.

Blood trickled down the drain as you held yourself over the bathroom sink in the guys’ room, blinking away the tears that swelled in your eyes. Everyone cries when they get hit in the nose- it’s probably a reflex or something, you thought, not that it hurt that bad. Glancing up to the mirror, you caught sight of someone standing in the doorway- Knoxville, holding this ice pack he fashioned out of a towel full of ice from the hall. It seemed that your waterworks had really gotten his attention, judging from the concerned tone in his voice, “Y’alright?” Taking it from him, you gently pressed it to your face, wincing at the cold sting. “M’fine.” He smirked but the tone of his voice was still present as he sat down on the lid of the toilet seat next to you, “You sure?” Johnny waved you closer, gesturing for you to lean down towards him. You did, and he reached out to gently grasp your chin, “Lemme see…well, that might leave a mark.” It was an oddly intimate moment, feeling his noticeably larger hand on top of yours as he went to move the ice pack. Leaning it to get a better look at your face, Johnny smiled just barely, “I think you’re gonna be alright.”

With the way the guys treated you the next day, you would’ve thought you were the queen of England. When you woke them up the next day, they didn’t whine or complain in the slightest, instead obediently getting out of bed and starting to get ready, avoiding your gaze. You felt like the headmaster at some British private school for undisciplined boys. As you stood idly in the doorway, perplexed at their sudden shift in behavior, you noticed something- Knoxville was MIA, and it seemed that nobody cared or was willing to say anything to you. Dipping your head in the door, you scanned the room, “Does anyone know where-“

Jumping a little, you caught your breath after the initial surprise when you realized it was Johnny who was standing next to you out in the hallway, maybe six inches away. He smirked at how easily he startled you and wordlessly handed you one of the two complementary breakfast coffees he had in his hands. Look at Mr. Suave-Cool, coming in with the apology drinks. Still, you weren't going to say no. Taking a sip and pondering how he could be the constant center of attention and, at the same time, so damn sneaky, you didn’t even notice when Bam sprang up from his bed, scampering to lean against the doorframe behind you. While all of the guys were quietly doing it already, Bam seemed the most eager to grovel, not even waiting for you to turn towards him before he started fawning with uncharacteristic earnestness, “Hey, I just wanna tell you I am so sorry about last night- I mean, it was totally Steve’s fault, but I feel so bad!” Immediately, you turned to Bam and looked him up and down, as did Johnny, who snickered at the fact that he was standing there without a care in the world, totally naked. At this point in the trip you were so desensitized to the male nudity that you didn’t even say anything. From behind him in the room Steve, who had his shirt halfway over his head, was clearly over his faux niceness by the way barked at Bam, “Oh, fuck you man!” But when you made eye contact with him, his ego shrank up like he just got into a cold pool as his voice dropped a decibel, “I-I mean, you looked pretty rad with all the blood and stuff...” Chris, who was totally unbothered by all of this, just smiled at you as earnest as ever, “Yeah! The blood was totally sexy, dude!”

“Is there anything I can do to make it up?” Bam looked at you with this eager to please look on his face, and you weren't one to pass up this opportunity. You thought that hell would freeze over before any of these guys would ask to do something nice for you. “Well…if you really want, you could grab me a danish from down front.” He started off before he glanced down and noticed the obvious. Quickly running back into the room to tug on a pair of jeans- no underwear, Bam slipped past you and ran down the hall in that same stupid way he did at the strip club.

While the guys were out for the day, you shot a call over to Ed the Medic, who was, as his name implied, an on set medic (if you could call him that) who they only really kept around because he really liked giving people pills, so this was maybe the first time anyone called him for a legitimate injury. He was nonetheless happy to pawn them off onto you. While you debated whether or not you should take them, the throbbing pain in the middle of your face failed to cease, so you gave in, throwing them back and hoping the high would wear off before the guys got back and you made a fool of yourself the same way they did with you.

For the first time that trip, nobody wanted to go out that night, not after the day they just had. Drenched in sweat from the hot Louisiana sun with sore muscles from a day of stunts, all anybody wanted to do was maybe have a beer and crash for the night. Nobody was more exhausted than Bam, who arguably had the worst day out of any of them. From getting locked in a trailer with snakes and racking his nuts to having to eat and by extension throw up a piece of cowshit- not even Johnny asking to take a gander at his sprained dick could bring any humor to the situation. So as soon as they got into the room they all fell onto beds or chairs or whatever they could find, content to call it a night before six. That is, until you came knocking on the door.

“Heyyy!!” Stumbling into the room, you were all giggles as you bumped into Johnny who had opened the door. He looked down at your purple, swollen face confusedly as you slurred your words, “Didn’t you guys wanna go out…? C’mon, let’s go. I wanna party!” Turning back to the other guys, they all reflected the same bewildered expression as his- never once had you ever expressed interest at partying, or at least their idea of partying. However, though he had arguably had the roughest day out of all of them, Bam’s mood shifted at your sudden change of opinion, getting up from his place on the bed with a grin and putting a paintball-scarred hand on Johnny’s shoulder, “Alright, you heard ‘em! Let’s party.”

The streets were nearly empty as you and the guys walked them. Hell, you didn’t even know you were on Bourbon street until you saw the street sign on the corner as you left the hotel, “Wait, this is that Marti gras place, right?” Johnny nodded as he walked close to you, making sure you didn’t run off or hurt yourself doing something stupid. He clearly wasn't doing a very good job at it, made apparent when you tugged your shirt up to your neck, squealing, “Oh! I’m gonna get some beads!” Imitating women who flashed for plastic at those parades, it seemingly didn’t occur to you that not only were you about three months late to the whole Marti gras thing, but you were doing it to nobody in particular. Johnny noticed, his eyes going a little wide as he grabbed the sides of your shirt, quickly but gently pulling it back down, “Woah, woah- Y/N,” There was this almost protective tone in his voice as he talked to you the way you usually talked to him when he had a few too many that night, “If you wait right here, I can get you some beads, okay? Just- just stay in this one spot.”

He returned shortly after with a handful of multi-colored strands of plastic beads, brilliant iridescent purple and greens under the gas lamps that lined the sidewalks. Your eyes sparkled, “Woah…you got these for me…?” Johnny nodded. Maybe instead of getting them from a float like you assumed he had ran into a gift shop and hastily bought the first bulk bag of necklaces he could find, but he wasn’t technically lying. As you happily pulled them over you head, Bam elbowed you in the side, raising his eyebrows as he leaned in with a grin, “I could get you some beads if you flash those titties again.” Before you could comply, which you would’ve been more than happy to do, Johnny put an arm between the two of you, pushing you apart. What a killjoy! Still, he gave you a good explanation, “You don’t need any’a Bam’s junky beads cause I got you the good ones- the fancy kind.” Looking down at the beads in your hand again, you weren't sure what made them so fancy as they just looked like any old beads to you, but you trusted him. “Besides” Johnny brushed Bam’s hand off of your shoulder, “Why don’t I take you out on that dinner I was talkin’ about?”

You spent half of the meal gushing to the guys about your shiny new beads you got, somewhat less high but far from sober. Chris and Steve found your predicament absolutely hilarious, sitting on either side of you with giddy smiles at their uptight manager who was finally getting in on the fun. The lot of you ate your dinner in that sleepy little twenty four hour cafe a block from your hotel (about as far as you had gotten) and afterwards Johnny took you back to the hotel and up to your room with an arm around your shoulders, preventing any further mishaps. Dragging your feet, you collapsed onto your bed in your jeans. He gently removed your shoes and tucked you in before quietly leaving to go back to his own room next door. If there was going to be another time you ever ended up high, he would be the man you would want to babysit you. Tomorrow would be the last day of shooting in New Orleans, and you would be mortified at the stories of your behavior, but for that moment that night everything was just perfect.

[undertheopensky]

Catch Your Breath

Whumptober Day 30: “Not much longer…”

Characters: Legend, Sky

Trigger warnings: allergies, breathing difficulty, asthma, falling

Read on Ao3!

---

A lot of people, Sky reflects, thought of allergies as kind of funny. Lots of sneezing, watery eyes, even gastrointestinal misery is just funny. People looking foolish when their bodies betray them.

As he watches Legend struggle to breathe, he thinks those people are stupid.

---

It’s not that they didn’t know Legend has an allergy.

Way back when, when the group as a group was new, and Wind asked what the white stuff Wild was adding to the stew was, they’d realised in short order the differences in their eras had real consequences. Sky and Wind can’t have any kind of dairy. Time has a nut allergy that he says was worse when he was a kid, but no one wants to risk it. Shellfish makes Four violently sick. And Legend?

Legend’s allergic to feathers.

“Okay, I know we promised not to make fun of each other for medical stuff, but feathers?” Warriors says. “That is hilarious. Are you pulling my leg?”

“Nope,” says Legend. He’s unbothered, more interested in arranging the contents of his bag to his liking. “When I visited my grandparent’s farm, I was always banned from the cucco coop and anything to do with the pigeons. Prob’ly not as bad as the Old Man’s nut allergy –” and he points a bizarrely carved little twig in Time’s direction that Sky suddenly desperately needs to see in detail – “but it’s something I’m supposed to tell the healers, so.”

“Yes, and thankyou, Legend, it’s important to know,” says Hyrule. The healer smacks Warriors when he goes to open his mouth again, and that’s pretty much the end of it.

After that, it just… doesn’t come up. The one time they visit the ranch and Legend accidentally ends up on cucco duty, he quietly switches out with Four. Otherwise, there’s just not much cause for the heroes to interact with feathered creatures. Though several of them have had experiences with marauding crows, the mischievous birds don’t really count as monsters. They’ve never come across any infected ones at least. (“Not that those bastards need to get any smarter,” Four grumbles with uncharacteristic acid in his tone.) In fact, none of the infected monster hordes they hunt down includes any feathery fiends, except as very occasional decoration. It never seems to bother him, and Legend never brings it up himself. It falls to the back of everyone’s minds.

---

Sky’s carefully cleaning dark blood from Fi when he hears Wind groan in complaint. “What, already?”

He can’t help but agree. It’s been less than five minutes since the last stalfos fell; they’re still breathing hard, still patching up scrapes and bruises and the one arrow-slice from where Wild had not quite dodged in time. And they’re already being thrown through another portal?

At least it didn’t show up right as they were bedding down this time.

One by one, they head for the portal, Sky following at the tail end of the line. It’s not on purpose. He’s just feeling it, a bit, feeling the poor sleep from the night before (ha) and the heavy weight of the humidity. Actually the thought of leaving the humidity behind is what finally drives him to step through and let the dark nothingness of the portal suck him under.

It’s always an eerie feeling. Ghostly fingers trailing over exposed skin. The cold chill of the void, so dark it doesn’t matter whether your eyes are open or closed. The adrenaline rush of falling. Wind yanking at his hair, his clothes –

No, wait, there’s no wind in the void. He’s really falling.

Sky opens his eyes to a landscape of eye-searing white touched with blue and gold. It’s dizzying, it’s blinding, it’s familiar. For a moment all he can feel is the incandescent joy of coming home.

Then he remembers eight heroes with no loftwings to catch them, and his whistle is more than a little desperate.

Flashes of colour spread out below him, bright against the clouds; Sky starts marking a path in his head, who to catch first. Wars and Time and Hyrule and Twilight, all the people without gliding items. He prays the others can hold out long enough for him to come back for them. None of them are meant for true flight, but with so many already – can Crimson even take the weight? If it came down to it, who would he leave behind –

A loftwing’s cry breaks his train of thought, and the relief would knock him over if he was standing. Crimson’s diving for him, but a pair of Skyloft knights are diving alongside, aiming for his scattered friends. He doesn’t have to catch all of them.

Sky twists on himself to face the clouds; the wind is tearing at his hair, at his sailcloth, at his blurred and watering eyes. It’s freezing, he’s not wearing as many layers after Wild’s muggy jungles, but he doesn’t have time to change. All he really needs right now is his sailcloth, not to catch but to stabilise.

Crimson’s back rises to meet him. Sky hits the saddle with stinging force and scrambles to get into position; to see over Crimson’s head and tip him back down towards his still-falling brothers. Who’s closest, who’s –

There’s a flash of red that isn’t Crimson, as Legend wrestles with his Roc’s Cape and tries to keep it from tearing free. It’s not made for this kind of use, and – he’s close. If he spirals around – Four is lighter and his cape held him longer, and Crimson can snatch him out of the sky with his talons before it gives out, and then they’re dropping through the sky after Legend when the magic in his Cape falters and fails.

Four screams. Sky can’t spare the breath or the focus to reassure him – they’re drawing even with Legend, then easing underneath, then coming out of the dive in a smooth arc that intercepts Legend’s fall at the precise moment he crosses Sky’s saddle.

Before his momentum can drag him back into open air Sky snaps an arm around Legend’s waist, as ungiving as iron. Legend helps by clinging to Crimson’s saddle. Passenger secured, Sky quickly scans the air. The last scrap of colour has just been snatched up by a third Knight, and if he squints he thinks he counts out the six of them, all safely in someone’s charge. Everyone is safe. He didn’t lose any of them.

Adrenaline and panic-sweat cooling on his skin, Sky shivers. They’d gotten almost frighteningly close to the cloud layer – Sky’s a knight, he’s used to seeing it, never mind how often he’s deliberately dropped through it – so it takes a few heavy wingbeats for Crimson to steer their trajectory back upward. It’s slow going. It gives him time to sit back, to steady his breathing, to realise just how fast his heart was beating and let the grey haze at the edges of his vision fade away.

Legend coughs. Then coughs again.

Sky frowns. There’s a thin whistle to the vet’s breathing that the wind had disguised. “Legend, you okay?” he asks, just as the veteran doubles over into a real coughing fit.

He sounds awful. He hadn’t taken any real blows in the fight, he shouldn’t be struggling to breathe like this. Had he been hiding an illness? After the fit Hyrule threw the last time Wind pretended he didn’t have a cold the whole group had wordlessly decided to just let the healer have his way, and he’d thought Legend was on board with that.

It doesn’t – it doesn’t sound like he’s trying to bring something up, though it’s deep and in his chest. It sounds like he can’t get any air, almost like Sky when the thick air of the Surface gets overwhelming. Like his throat is closing over, wind whistling through narrower and narrower passages –

Sky realises all at once.

Not an injury, not an illness – Legend’s allergic to feathers, and he just crash-landed on a whole platform of them.

Sky scrambles to prop him up, though he suspects the damage is done. Legend leans back against him. His breathing is maybe a little easier with his chest open, coughs louder and further apart. When he sucks in air, it sounds like it’s screaming through metal pipes, high and thin. But he can breathe.

They level out. There’s an island in the distance that the overloaded knights are headed for, but it’s small and isolated, intended as a jumping point for people with loftwings to catch them. It’ll take time to explain the situation, that they don’t have loftwings and need lifts back to the mainland, and that’s time Legend may not have.

Sky leans forward, holding Legend to his chest, and tries to think.

They need the infirmary, they’ll be able to treat the breath attack – but then they need somewhere feather free for Legend to rest, and there’s nowhere on Skyloft that fits that description. Loftwings are everywhere. The infirmary’s even got special-built troughs for them when their riders are in there and they refuse to leave! Every building has windows Loftwings can open and at least stick their heads in, if not hop straight through, and every floor bears scratches from their talons.

Legend wheezes. His fingers dig painfully into Sky’s supporting arm.

Determination solidifies. That will have to wait.

Sky leans into the turn as Crimson changes headings. Goddess, he loves his loftwing – as soon as Sky realised what they needed Crimson was responding. It’s the loss of this kind of bond that’s so devastating to him, when he considers the disappearance of loftwings over the ages. That the others have never known having a partner who knows your every move.

Legend’s stopped coughing but his breathing’s worse: pained little wheezes as he struggles to breathe, shuddering with every inhale like it’s a fight – his face is red and his eyes are wet and Sky doesn’t know if it’s breathlessness or pain.

“Hang in there Legend, we’re nearly there,” he says.

When they make landfall Crimson hovers long enough to drop Four the short, safe distance to the thickly grassed area meant for such deposits, then they’re off again. Sky hears Four shout behind them. Realises belatedly that between the wind and his own terror Four likely didn’t know what was happening – but he’s safe where he is, and if someone else finds him they can help him regroup if the others don’t land in the same spot, and –

That’s a problem for later. Right now, he needs to save Legend’s life.

No sailcloth dives with a passenger. Crimson lands on the tiles right in front of the infirmary with a soft grunt, and Sky flashes gratitude at him as he throws himself off his back and runs.

“Aren,” he shouts as he shoulders the door open, “Aren, I need help!”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I CAME AND I SAW THAT U WERE ALSO INFECTED WITH THE SILLY PUPPET THING,WELCOME..TO THE COMMUNITY! (Get it?)

May I request some headcanons of Barnaby,Sally and Wally meeting a Very Old Goose Puppet Y/n? Just this worn out,Raggedy and Intimidating Goose Grandparent who then absolutely babies them and teaches them self defense tricks,making them soup,maybe they worked as some sort of guard or security! Just pepaw/granny goose caring over these silly puppets.also like they could be going round the forest and a feral bear pops up,Pepaw Goose just turns around and hiss at it and the bear scampers off while Pepaw is like “Anyways-“ (Thoight would be funny because Geese are used as Guard animals)

Have a nice day! ^^ or night if it’s late!

Yeah!! I was genuinely surprised at the amount of Wally x Reader stuff here but I'm all for it!

Also ngl I've been playing a lot of Untitled Goose Game recently so,,, this ask couldn't have come at a better time /pos

........

Barnaby

Honestly, when this lad first saw you emerge from the woods...he was about to run back home with his tail tucked between his legs. You gave him quite a fright!

You were a goose who was about Poppy's height--if not taller--with ragged greyed feathers and [e/c] eyes that look nearly bloodshot, your legs and bill having stitches, and some loose stuffing falling out of your main body.

All in all...you had a very intimidating disposition.

But when you approach Barnaby, it turns out you're just returning one of his juggling pins that he accidentally flung out into the forest.

"You best keep an eye on your juggling kits, dear." You speak in a gentle, raspy voice.

"Th-Thanks...are you from the barn too?"

"A different one. I used to be a guard for the little gooselings and other farm animals in my prime years but---oh..how about we walk and talk, hm? Do you live close by?"

And that's how Barnaby got to know you! He felt bad for judging you by your appearance, as while you look scary..you're just a sweet ol' geeser (yes he's made that pun a few times and you love it) whose kind heart and soul haven't gone anywhere.

You've come to care for everybody in the neighborhood, especially the big blue dog who sometimes gets into accidents while performing stunts.

In those cases, you always know how to nurse him back to health.

At some point, he and everybody else start to see you as a grandparent, calling you [Pa/Ma]...which makes you especially happy.

Sally

When you were younger, you saw her descend to earth, thinking it was just an ordinary shooting star.

You made a wish that you'll be able to find some good friends to spend the rest of your days with. Being a geese guard was a lonely job sometimes..

Many years later, you see that same star--now one who walked and talked--strolling through the forest near your barn. And you were ecstatic, wanting to introduce yourself!

Even though Sally's never met you till now, she's flattered to learn you wished upon her....and even happier to know she made that wish come true!

Your initial appearance surprised her, but she's eager to run back to town and introduce you to everyone!

So that's where you two head to, though as you're both talking (which is mostly her rambling about the next play she's performing tonight), an aggressive bear suddenly leaps out and roars, frightening her-

Until you hiss at it, extending your wings in a threatening manner, which immediately drove the beast back into the woods.

Then you turn back to the gawking star with the sweetest, most apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about that, dearie..do continue."

And she does for a little while, but you end up using that bear encounter as a teaching moment, showing her (and the others once you meet them) how to best defend themselves against possible bear attacks (or any wild animal attack in general). You made it your mission to keep these young folks safe.

Sally would definitely incorporate these lessons into her plays, which you grew to adore, refusing to miss a single one.

Wally

It was actually Poppy who introduced you to the gang, since you've watched over the barn she's lived in since she was a little baby bird. She basically considers you her parent.

You helped her out with her anxiety issues and baking mishaps over the years, so everybody warms up to you quick after learning your ties to each other.

Wally's no different. He's not too intimidated by your height nor raggedy feathers (man knows to respect his elders).

If anything, he's impressed that your felt and stuffing are still keeping you together, but offers to help you get patched up.

"Oh thank you, sweetie!" You croon. "You know..this town is blessed to have such a kind and handsome gentleman like yourself here."

Hearing that instantly melted his heart.

Soon enough, you get acquainted with the others and take care of them if they need help with anything.

Within the neighborhood, you ensure no wildlife breaks into the grocery store and makes off with any food (especially apples), always keeping watch.

Wally admires your nurturing and protective nature, knowing you're a very wise bird who offers the best advice..

Whenever he's lost on inspiration for art projects or just...feeling stressed over whatever, you're there to help him how ever you can.

When he got caught out in a rainstorm and got sick one day, you made him some delicious soup that helped him feel better within hours.

And of course, Home's happy to see you taking care of their owner. So you're always welcomed inside.

[jrob64]

A Fortunate Failure

A CS Modern AU One-shot for CS Spooky Season/Autumnal Bingo

Here is my second offering for the Bingo boards created by @hollyethecurious. This one is based on the prompt 'getting lost in a corn maze'. Now I can cross off two spaces on my card.

Special thanks to @hookedmom for her beta expertise.

Summary: At Mary Margaret and David’s annual ‘All Things Autumn’ party, Emma and Killian hope to win the competition championship again. The final event to determine the winning team is escaping the cornfield maze the fastest, but when the two friends get hopelessly lost, they discover that losing might actually lead to the best prize of all. 

Rating: T

Words: 3553

Can also be found on Ao3 and ffn

*********

Killian Jones finishes buttoning his shirt and checks his reflection in the mirror. Plaid flannel really isn’t his thing, but he’s trying to get into the spirit of the evening. Besides, when Emma Swan extends an invitation and tells him to wear plaid flannel, he will do it.

He will do just about anything for Emma Swan…except admit his feelings to her.

“Coward,” he whispers to his reflection. “If you don’t tell her pretty soon, she’s going to find someone else to date.” He doesn’t know if he could stand watching her with another guy like he had to when she dated that idiot Neal. Then he had to do it again when she went out with Walsh a few times, before she found out he was an egotistical liar.

Grabbing his black leather jacket from the hook on the back of his bedroom door, he double checks that his keys are in the pocket, then walks out the door and jogs to his car. He told Emma he would meet her at David and Mary Margaret’s farm at three o’clock and he doesn’t want to be late. That would be, in his brother Liam’s words, bad form.

As he drives, he hums along to the songs from his playlist. He chose every song on it because they remind him of Emma. Bloody hell, he has it so bad for her!

When he reaches the farm, he parks beside Emma’s yellow Volkswagen bug and sees that she’s still sitting behind the wheel, looking at her phone. She doesn’t seem to notice that he’s there as he gets out of his car and closes the door. He moves around the back of his car and taps on her window, causing her to startle and look up at him with wide eyes.

Killian could drown in the deep pools of Emma’s gorgeous green eyes.

*********

Emma could drown in the deep pools of Killian’s gorgeous blue eyes.

She’s frankly just so sick and tired of hiding her feelings for him. Her brother urged his friend Killian to move to Storybrooke three years ago when he was getting over a bad breakup. At that time, David told her the Brit needed friends, so that’s what she became. Now, she’s stuck in ‘friend’ mode, but oh, how she wishes she could move into the ‘girlfriend’ category.

At one point, she thought she could get over her feelings for him by dating other guys, but that turned out to be a terrible idea. Neal was a complete imbecile who thought women were inferior beings, and Walsh was an arrogant jerk. She sometimes wonders if she chose to date those two because in the back of her mind she knew that nothing would ever develop with either of them.

Killian Jones is the only man she wants to date, but he has no interest in being in a romantic relationship with her. So she settles for being his friend, because that way, at least she gets to spend plenty of time with him.

Tonight is Mary Margaret and David’s ‘All Things Autumn’ party. It’s highly anticipated by everyone in town and is one of Emma’s favorite nights of the year. For the first few years of the annual event, she sat back and watched as couples competed with each other in numerous events - cornhole, a scavenger hunt, as well as piggyback, wheelbarrow and burlap sack racing. Mary Margaret always tried to get her involved, but Emma was perfectly happy watching, laughing, and keeping score.

Once Killian moved into town, they decided to team up. Emma is even happier to finally be participating. It doesn’t hurt that most of the competitions require physical contact. She also enjoys sitting beside him during the hayride and around the bonfire at the end of the evening.

The best part, in her opinion, is trying to get through the cornfield maze the fastest. The first year she and Killian participated together, they were the winning team. He was so excited, he wrapped her up in a hug and spun her around until they were both dizzy. It was the best feeling in the world.

Now, as he stands outside her car, looking at her with those blue, blue eyes, she’s more than ready to have that feeling again.

*********

“Are you ready, Swan?” Killian asks, stepping back so she can open her car door.

She climbs out and stands in front of him, sliding her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “I was just studying a diagram of the cornfield maze. I think I’ll be able to mauever us through it in record time.”

“Is that so?” he questions with a teasing grin. “Could you be seeking revenge for last year when Ruby and Victor beat us by fifteen minutes?”

“I still think Mary Margaret led Ruby through the maze before the party that night. There’s no way they could have gotten out that fast,” Emma grouses.

The two of them start walking toward the huge red barn, which is the hub of the autumn-themed festivities. “Why would your sister-in-law show favoritism to Ruby?”

“Because Ruby is her best friend and can talk Mary Margaret into anything. Plus, she knows I wouldn’t cheat.”

“And studying the diagram beforehand isn’t cheating?” Killian asks cheekily.

She gives him a side-eye glare. “That’s called preparation.”

“Is it, indeed?”

“You should be happy your partner prepared so well.”

I’m just happy to be your partner, Killian thinks. Out loud, he says, “You’re the most competitive person I’ve ever met, Swan.”

“If you’re gonna keep making remarks like that, I might have to find a different partner.”

“I meant it as a compliment.”

She rolls her eyes at him, making him grin again. They walk into the barn, where their senses are immediately inundated with the sight of fall decorations, smells from the abundance of food laid out on long tables, and sounds from spooky music coming through speakers and the large crowd already gathered.

Mary Margaret spots them immediately and grabs David’s hand before she heads their way. “Emma! Killian!” she greets exuberantly. “I was afraid you were going to miss the scavenger hunt!”

“I thought it didn’t start until three-thirty,” Emma says. “It’s only three o’clock right now.”

“You have to have something to eat first. Oh, you should try David’s chili! He added a secret ingredient this year.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s nutmeg,” Emma teases. “It might work in his pancakes, but I really don’t think it will work in chili.”

David chuckles. “It’s not nutmeg, and it’s not really that secret. I just used some of the jalapenos Mary Margaret grew in the garden last summer. We canned several jars of them.”

“He dices them up to put in the chili,” Mary Margaret gushes, gazing at David like he discovered a way to live on Mars. “Isn’t that clever?”

“Very clever, Mate,” Killian says quickly, giving a small tug on Emma’s sleeve. He’s pretty sure she is just about to make a sarcastic remark about Mary Margaret’s over-the-top adoration of her husband. Emma looks at him with a smirk and he’s convinced he was correct.

“Well, get yourselves something to eat,” David says. “We have some last minute things to take care of before the games begin.”

“One of them better not be showing Ruby through the corn maze,” Emma grumbles, as the couple walks away.

Killian laughs. “Perhaps we should aspire to keep Ruby within our sight at all times. Will that set your mind at ease, Swan?”

“No, because then we have to look at her hanging all over her new boyfriend, Jefferson. Victor was no catch, but at least he was only about a five on the weirdness scale. This guy is at least a thirteen.”

Killian’s grin couldn’t be much bigger as they head to the tables to load their plates. He’s looking forward to having a fun-filled evening with all of his friends. And with the woman he loves.

Someday soon, he’s going to have to tell her how he feels.

*********

Someday soon, she’s going to have to tell him how she feels.

Seriously, she doesn’t think she’s going to be able to keep pretending much longer, especially when he keeps giving her that heart-stopping smile. Plus, he keeps touching her; just little touches that send shivers up her spine. His palm on the small of her back, a brush of his hand down her arm, fingers combing snarls from her hair, sitting close enough for their thighs to touch.

It’s going to drive her crazy, but she never wants him to stop.

“Swan?”

“Hmm?” she hums.

“Is there something wrong with the food? You’ve hardly eaten a bite.”

She looks down at her plate, her fork hovering over it. He’s right - she hasn’t eaten anything. She has gotten too caught up in her thoughts.

“No, I was just…thinking about the scavenger hunt, I guess.” She scoops up some macaroni and cheese and sticks it in her mouth. After chewing and swallowing, she adds, “I stuck everything I thought could possibly be on the list in my bug today. I swear, if Mary Margaret has tampons on the list again, I’m going to strangle her. That was so embarrassing last year! Especially when Ruby asked if a used one counted.”

Killian nearly chokes on the drink of water he had taken. “I’m sure Mary Margaret won’t make that mistake again,” he says after clearing his throat. “She turned beet red when Ruby asked that question.”

Once everyone is finished eating, the list of items to find is passed out and the hunt begins. There is nothing embarrassing on it this time and Emma is elated that she, in fact, does have a few of the items in her car. She deflates when Belle and Will turn in their completed list just as she and Killian locate the final thing they need, but gets over it quickly when she sees how happy the other couple is to receive the prize of two movie passes.

“Second place isn’t shabby, Swan,” Killian says. “It still earns us two points toward the overall championship.”

They rack up more points by coming in third in cornhole, first in the piggyback race, and second in the wheelbarrow race. They fail to place in the burlap sack race when they get their feet tangled together inside the sack and fall, then are disqualified for trying to roll across the finish line. Emma doesn’t care. She is laughing so hard while laying on top of Killian, who also has tears of laughter running from the corners of his eyes.

Before the final competitive event of the night, everyone loads up on David’s flatbed wagon, lined with bales of straw, then he tows them around the farm. Mary Margaret joins him in the cab of the tractor and turns so she can see her friends enjoying themselves, telling jokes and stories, laughing and cuddling together.

Emma scoots as close as she can to Killian and is thrilled when he drops his arm across her shoulders. She tentatively rests her forearm on his thigh and relaxes when he doesn’t pull away. They remain that way for the rest of the ride.

Emma is content taking in the autumn colors of the leaves lit by the waning rays of sunlight. When one particular maple tree catches her attention - so bright with red and orange leaves, it looks like it’s on fire - she turns to see if Killian is looking at it, too.

He isn’t. His eyes are on her, a soft smile on his lips. She has the distinct feeling he’s been looking at her for a while, instead of enjoying the scenery. “Aren’t the trees beautiful?” she asks.

“Aye, lovely,” he agrees, though he never takes his eyes off of her.

“I love the way the sun makes the colors so vivid. Orange, red…”

“Gold,” he adds, as she feels him sifting strands of her hair through his fingers.

“Killian,” she says with mock exasperation. “You’re not even looking at the trees.”

He blinks rapidly, then pulls his eyes away to look around. Clearing his throat, he says, “Mary Margaret and David are very fortunate to own such a beautiful farm.”

“Yeah, they are. David always wanted to live on a farm when we were growing up.”

They make small talk until the hayride is over. When they disembark, Killian offers her his hand to help her step down, but once her feet are on the ground, he doesn’t let go. She feels his thumb slowly stroking over the back of her hand, sending tingles across her skin.

He’s never held her hand like that before and she feels a sudden rush of hope that maybe he does think of her as more than a friend.

*********

Emma doesn’t pull her hand away from him and he feels a sudden rush of hope that maybe she does think of him as more than a friend.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her during the hayride. The way her golden hair glowed in the light of the sunset was mesmerizing. When she called him out for not noticing the colors of the trees, it was all he could do to focus his attention on them. Their beauty couldn’t compare with hers.

His hope is also fueled by the way she sat so close to him and seemed to enjoy having his arm wrapped around her shoulders. It felt very nice, very natural. It felt like something he would like to do on a regular basis.

As he stands in front of her, he has the overwhelming urge to admit how he feels, but knows it isn’t the right time or place. When that will be, he has no idea. He just knows he is sick and tired of hiding his feelings for her.

His turbulent thoughts are interrupted by David loudly announcing, “There’s only one competition left to determine the winning team. Grab your partner and come get your flashlights for the cornfield maze!”

“Let’s go,” Emma says, tugging on his hand. “It’s time for us to nail down the championship!”

Killian willingly follows behind her, chuckling at her enthusiasm and determination. He’s happy because in this competition, she is a force to be reckoned with and he’s her partner.

Emma grabs a flashlight out of the basket Mary Margaret is carrying and tests it to make sure it works. Then she takes Killian’s hand again and marches them over to the entrance of the cornfield maze. While most of the couples are milling around and chatting, she edges them to the front of the pack so they’ll be one of the first ones to enter the maze.

When David blows the air horn signaling the start, Emma takes off running with Killian on her heels. Everyone is bunched up until they get to the first division in the path. Most of the group, including Emma and Killian, go to the left, while a few couples split off to the right.

At every intersection, the crowd gets slimmer as they make their choice of direction. Before long, the only ones still going down the same path as Emma and Killian are Ruby and Jefferson. Killian shakes his head fondly as he watches the two women elbowing each other, trying to gain an advantage.

Emma looks back at him and he gives her a thumbs up, his heart swelling at the smile she gives him in return.

*********

Emma sees Killian give her a thumbs up and her heart swells, causing her to give him a smile in return, even though they’re in the middle of a fierce competition.

The further they go into the maze, the darker it becomes since the tall corn stalks block out most of the moonlight. The circle of light their flashlight throws off isn’t enough to illuminate more than about a four foot diameter in front of them, which is a little disconcerting.

When they reach another fork in the path, she exchanges a challenging look with Ruby, then grabs Killian’s hand and heads in the opposite direction as the other couple.

“Are you quite sure this is the way to go?” Killian asks.

“When I looked at the diagram, I counted the number of right and left turns. I’m pretty sure this one was supposed to be to the left.”

“I trust your judgment, Swan.”

They walk on for several minutes, making a few more turns. Their pace gradually slows and finally comes to a stop.

“Is something wrong?” Killian asks.

Emma stands stock still, turning her head back and forth. “Do you hear anyone else?”

He cocks his head and listens intently. Then he shakes his head. “I don’t hear anything.”

“That means either we’re way ahead of everyone else or…”

“Or we’re lost?”

She turns to face him. “Yeah. I think we should have turned the same way as Ruby and Jeff back there.”

“We can head back…” he begins.

“No, let’s just keep going. There’s probably more than one way out of here.”

They continue on in silence, except for the crunch of the flattened corn stalks under their feet. At every intersection, they discuss which direction to go. After another ten minutes, Emma comes to a stop. “I think we’re hopelessly lost. I’m sorry, Killian.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry, Emma.”

“I was so sure I could lead us out of this maze before anyone else, but I failed.”

He steps in front of her, his face nearly obscured by shadows. “The night isn’t over yet.”

“Do you really think we can still win?”

He moves a little closer and she tilts the flashlight up so she can see his face more clearly. He is looking at her fixedly, an ambiguous look on his face.

“There’s more than one way to win tonight,” he says quietly.

“Do you have a way to fly out of here or something?”

He chuckles. “No, nothing like that.”

“How can we win, then?”

He takes another step forward and reaches up to cup her face in his hands. She draws in a quick breath, a hopeful thought entering her mind.

Is he going to kiss her?

*********

He’s going to kiss her.

He looks deeply into her eyes, hoping to see acceptance. Even in the dim light, he finds it. She wants this, too.

Leaning in, he tentatively touches his lips to hers once, twice. When he pulls back slightly, she follows him, her lips chasing his. He takes advantage of the opportunity and draws her into her arms to kiss her again. This time, the tentativeness is gone, replaced by eagerness and passion.

Gods, how he’s longed for this day, imagined it so often. And now he knows - reality is so much better. Her lips are pliant, soft and sweet.

He hears her whisper something and murmurs, “What did you say, Love?”

She rests her forehead against his, her breath ghosting over his lips. “It’s about time.”

He pulls away a little, blinking in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?”

“If it’s half as long as I’ve wanted to kiss you, it’s a very long time.”

She gives him that heart-melting smile he loves so much. The one she seems to only give to him. “Do you remember the first year we won the cornfield maze and you picked me up and spun me around?”

“Aye.”

“When you set me down and looked at me, for a second I thought you were going to kiss me. Ever since then, I wished you would.”

His brows shoot up. “That long ago?”

“How long has it been for you?” she asks.

“From the moment I met you.”

Now her brows climb up her forehead. “Seriously? I thought you were getting over a breakup and was only looking to make new friends.”

“I did want to make new friends and wasn’t looking for anyone to date but you…there was just something there…a spark between us. At least, on my part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m a bloody fool and a coward. Even when I saw you going out with those two wankers, I couldn’t work up the nerve to tell you how I felt. I guess I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same and it would make things awkward between us.”

“I was an idiot to go out with them. I thought if I found someone else, I could get over my feelings for you. It didn’t work.”

“I’m very happy it didn’t.”

“So…what do we do now?” she asks.

“Well,” Killian smirks, swaying her back and forth in his arms, “now I suppose we should find our way out of this bloody maze.”

She wraps her arms more tightly around his neck to pull him closer. “We don’t need to be in any hurry.”

His eyes grow comically wide. “Who are you and what have you done with Emma Swan?”

She playfully slaps the back of his head. “Shut up and kiss me, Jones.”

He happily does as told.

Ruby and Jefferson end up winning the team competition, but Emma and Killian win each other. That is, by far, the sweetest prize of all.

*********

Thank you for reading! Be sure to check out all of the great stories and art in the CSSpookyAutumnalBingo2024 collection on Ao3.

Tagging:

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@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

@lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

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@whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie

@beckettj @killihan-jones

[bethanydelleman]

Estimated Sexual Abilities of Austen Men

In no particular order within tier

Edits added in blue based on your reblogs and careful consideration

Top Tier:

Mr. Mainwaring: to have the near undying loyalty of the exceedingly selfish Lady Susan, this man must be a sex god

Henry Crawford: he knows he’s not handsome, he wants women to love him, he'd put in the work. Also one of the only men to be rated by a woman who has had sex before.

Henry Tilney: he cares about things women like, high emotional intelligence, and extremely kind.

Frederick Wentworth: passion and experience (I imagine), also has high emotional intelligence when he’s not being a dufus.

Colonel Brandon: passionate, thinks about other people’s feelings a lot, self-sacrificial

John Knightley: I think there’s a good reason that they keep banging out those kids

Admiral Croft: I cannot believe I left him off, obviously amazing in bed because he respects his wife as his equal and is very fun. You are telling me they spend all their time together and don't have amazing sex? No freaking way!

Good Tier:

William Price: athletic, cares about his sister a lot (good sign), and gives good presents. He’s only nineteen in the story which is why he has room to improve.

Captain Harville: Obviously

Mr. Morland: dude isn’t even on page, but in my head Mrs. Morland enjoyed making all ten of those children.

Colonel Fitzwilliam: I think he’d be good, but not awesome. He'll probably be wasted on a mercenary marriage.

Charles Bingley: I get the feeling he’d be on a race to the end, and maybe not the best communicator at first. Will improve.

Mr. Gardiner: Just because he’s awesome and seems to respect women

Captain Benwick: poetry and passion!

Robert Martin: seems like a pretty romantic guy, also works on a farm so probably athletic.

John Willoughby: Mostly because of experience, but he is also pretty passionate. He’s also super hot, Miss Grey knew what she was getting into. But this guy can only go downhill from here.

Reginald De Courcy: He’s a sweetheart, an occasionally dumb sweetheart

Mr. Bennet: Is he lazy in most domains of life? Yes. But Mrs. Bennet wasn’t just trying for that heir, I’m telling you folks. Maybe he's just trying to make her unable to talk 😉

George Knightley: Promoted to good tier, I do think he's very caring, but he also is always sure HE is right, which may be a problem.

John Yates: Maybe not the most selfless person, but he's got passion and he does love his wife. Probably very into roleplay.

Mediocre but can improve tier:

Fitzwilliam Darcy: he’s a bit stiff... I think it might take some time for him to get good at it (demoted to this tier because he will need time to improve)

Frank Churchill: He’s got passion, but he’s so darn selfish and doesn’t seem to send that much time thinking about Jane’s feelings

Edward Ferrars: I just see him being a nervous wreak the first few times, it’ll get better (Note: I think Lucy is way too smart to have had sex without a wedding date)

James Morland: Dude, I’m just disappointed with you in general. Being led by lust, not protecting your sister. I hope you grow a lot before you try to get engaged again.

Charles Musgrove: could be good, but Mary never seems to appreciate the effort he puts in so he kind of gave up

Tom Bertram: Selfish, never has to try for anything, but he did reform so maybe he can get better here too.

Edmund Bertram: Repressed and selfish. He needs to actually start listening to what women say if he’s going to improve and there is a whole book of him doing exactly the opposite...

Mr. Elton: selfish, full of himself, and low emotional intelligence, however, I think he does love his wife so he is willing to put in some effort for her.

Just bad:

James Rushworth: Maria was not impressed at all, despite how much “taller” he was

Captain Tilney: riding on good looks and money, selfish

John Thorpe: Selfish and he never shuts up. I have trouble imaging him getting a woman to sleep with him without paying her.

George Wickham: selfish and good looking, he’s not doing any work. He thinks you should be honoured to sleep with him.

Robert Ferrars: selfish and not even good looking. There is nothing here. Lucy did not win people.

Mr. Woodhouse: I can’t even imagine, if he didn’t have children I’d say he was a virgin

Mr. Collins: The woman he is trying to please is not his wife.

Mr. Elliot: cruel to his first wife and not even handsome!

Sir Walter Elliot: I don’t think any part of his personality would tend toward being a “giver”, however, if you like mirrors...

John Dashwood: exactly the opposite of a “giver”

Mr. Price: the guy had 11 children in 14 years so I wish I could say he was better in bed. My suspicion is that he started in the good tier and has had a very slow fall into just bad. And all that alcohol, ug...

Dr. Grant: Noted for being a whiney, selfish glutton. Hopefully he just falls asleep before he can attempt anything because I can't imagine him being that good in bed.

General Tilney: If you don't want to even try to imagine their sex life, they go in this tier. And he is so freaking controlling!

No Data: We interviewed Lady Bertram for information on Sir Thomas, but she confessed that with full consent, she has always fallen asleep during sex. Given her personality, we decided that this information has no bearing on Sir Thomas’s abilities. She did say that giving birth was, “Very disagreeable.”

Mr. Hurst: I really can't decide with him because while he does love the finer things in life, we don't know exactly why he and Louisa married. More info required.

Criteria: In the domain of F/M sex, communication is key, so we need a man who is willing to listen to what women say. Also, selfishness is obviously a negative trait when it comes to a happy sexual partner of either gender. Some of this is just vibes, but I think there is a fair amount of canon information about how much men respect women, especially their sisters. 

Feel very free to fight me in the reblogs. The only hill I will die on is that Henry Crawford’s rating is correct 😉

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

All Your Fault

Next

Author's note: I got the Bully Cato Sicarius Fleas. I've read the fics and they are good. I hope I got his character right.

Warnings: Bullying behavior, verbal bullying, Power Imbalance, Cato's Sparkling Personality. uh let me know if I need to add more.

Summary: You are just a Serf, and one day gain the attention of the Captain of the Second Company of Ultramarines. It's not a good thing. Just what did you do to upset him so?

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @i-am-a-dragon34, @egrets-not-regrets, @gra93fruit-blog

You were born and raised near your family's farm on Calth. You had grown up hearing about the Glory and Wonder of the Imperium and how very Lucky you and the other citizens of Ultramar are to have the protection of the Mighty and Noble Ultramarines. 

You had heard stories of how some of the stronger boys in your farming community were blessed with the chance to become Ultramarines. But that had been a few generations ago when the farming community had a poor harvest and they had to give people as part of the tithe more than finished and raw farming goods. 

You bite your lower lip a little as you continue to pull weeds and tend to the section of the fields You had assigned to you to work on. There has been a bad drought that has made the usually high yield farm rather lacking. You have heard your parents and the local town leaders talking about it. 

With the Tithe Coming within a few short weeks, and a lack of agricultural goods. They had been arguing over who to send as tribute and part of the tithe. As a farming community it was heavily encouraged to have multiple children for a variety of reasons. 

The families with more children got tax breaks and help from the centralized government for Healthcare, child rearing and daycare. As well as cheap, decent quality education and help with feeding and funding Children born and continued growing. You were one of seven children and are among the middle of the pack. 

You are full grown, but due to circumstances still stuck at the family farm, working on it rather than having your own place to live. While volunteers are preferred a lottery was going to be set in place for the whole community to gather and those of a certain age range were going to be the most targeted for the Tithe-ing. 

You are in that age range, you aren't sure if you want to be one of those chosen to go. Whether it is into the Astra Militarum, Chapter Serf, or into a different part of governmental service. If it happens, you will do your duty and say your goodbyes to your loved ones. 

The sinking sensation that you felt proved true five weeks later when your name was called as part of the Tithe to the Imperium. You were just barely able to say goodbye to your siblings. Before you were whisked off to be assessed and put into quarantine with your fellow Calth-ites. After quarantine and skills tested, you were given the uniform of Serf. 

And to your greatest joy and honor. The colors of the Ultramarines, denoting which holy chapter you had been chosen for. You whisper in gratitude to the God Emperor for his mercy and wisdom. You swiftly change into the uniform And follow after those who were chosen and head to the proper disembarkation point. 

One of the higher ranking serfs explaining the rules and consequences for breaking them. As you walk by, you and the rest of the Serfs have to flatten yourselves against the walls when Astartes in Blue and Gold Armor go walking by, you keep your head lowered out of respect, even as you peek at them from the corner of your eye as awe and dread grips your heart. You had only ever heard of the Angels of the Imperium before. And now… you get to serve them, what an honor.

Even if it makes you anxious, one of the Ultramarines brushes past you, he has a stern expression on his stunningly handsome face. You swear you feel his eyes flicker over and stare at you ever so briefly before snapping back in front of him towards where some of his fellow Angels are. 

Once they leave the hallway you and your fellow new Serfs are hurried along to their destination as the Serfs who’ve been there longer and are in charge continue to go over the rules, regulations and consequences of disobedience.

Over the next several months you learn of the complex social and political hierarchy of the Serfs. Or at least, you do your best to do so as it seems a tricky, complicated and almost arcane nature. Far more complex that a simple farm hand turned chapter serf could comprehend at times. Although you did your best to do your duties swiftly, promptly, quietly, and with as little impact on your higher ups as possible.

You are carrying some clothing from one part of the ship to another when you sense movement out of the corner of your eye. You stop and shift out of the way when you spot blue and gold ceramite armor and an Ultramarine Space Marine comes walking over. You dutifully flatten yourself against the nearest wall to give the massive man more room.

The Ultramarine pauses and stares down at you. It was the same one that had briefly looked at you all those months ago when you’d first come aboard the ship as part of a tithe.

“Serf,” He barks at you.

“Yes, Lord?” You say trying not to jump. 

He scowls at you and your heart sinks and you feel like you want to cry. “What the fuck is that accent?”

“I-I am sorry my lord?” You try as you carefully try to enunciate Low Gothic properly. 

One of his eyes twitch and he scowls down at you, “Speak properly or stay silent. Serf.”

You nod, even though you feel hurt, welling up, and confusion. He was the one to start to speak to you. “Yes, Lord.”

“Hrm. Barely better,” Cato sneers down at the country bumpkin now blessed to become a Serf of the Ultramarines.

They have the same fucking accent that, Prissy bastard Captain Ventris gets when he’s talking with his uppity giant bastard of a Sargent Passinius. He’d had yet another disagreement with the Captain of the Fourth Company over tactics and Calgar had barked out orders that the pair of them needed to break it up and cool off before coming back to the meeting.

He had meant to go to the training salles to cool off as he seethed in his wrath when he spotted that one far too pretty looking Serf that had come aboard McCragge’s Honor a few months ago. Not that he had noticed them at all. Or that he’d been, for some reason, tracking them from time to time. Not that he’d sought them out while he was in a temper because of Throne-cursed Ventris.

Their large eyes staring up at him, with tears starting to gather at the corners of their eyes. Tch. Pathetic. Even as something else shifts in his hearts at seeing their emotional reaction to him. He’d hardly said much and they were already acting like he was being a Bastard. So he scowls down at them some more and snarls that they need to be tougher to survive as a Serf serving Astartes.

"Leave," He barks and you bow and scurry off and away from him as you continue to do your duties, trying to figure out what it was that you did to upset the Second Captain of the Ultramarines.

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAu - Q&A

As I said! I totally wasn't scheming :3 @spotaus

But i had to wait until you uploaded your drabble about very sneaky Cross to make sure I got more references and a better idea about his character :D

So... here we are :3 Also yes the name of the drabble is a very bad joke but i thought of it and it was too funny.

*------------------------------------------*

Cross just sits there... He is such an idiot!

Getting caught?! As quickly as he did? that must be a record on how incapable he was.

It wasn't as if Cross had an excuse. Dream and Blue warned him! Warned him that the Knights were very skilled and watchful. That he had to leave as soon as he got the information and plans. Do not linger!

That had been the mission!

Instead he was a coward and just. Took too long. He spend too much time trying to form a plan instead of just acting. And then He tried to solve mysteries himself instead of just grabbing and leaving as soon as he could!

But he just... Cross groans.

He hadn't found anything fitting the brief. He hadn't been able to find anything that spoke about hurting people or raising taxes to hurt the poor or anything!

In matter of fact.

All he found was plans to improve the infra structure. To tax the nobels more and lower the taxes on people who earned less. He found information on how the king had contact with farmers to work on more structures and installations to help farmers recover from the change in weather and to fully utilise the land without exhausting it.

Projects on testing mixed crop planting and stricts rotation schedules to make sure the soil itself wasn't exhausted from nutrients or risks infections or fungi growing which would hurt the soil and specific crops.

There was even this whole program about apprentices!! something about orphans and children and teens on the straights and a way to offer them schooling and housing and even training with the people helping them! That the crown would pay these people for helping those who don't have family to count on!

It is still in draft clearly as it had been covered with sidenotes in this very elegant and curve handwriting. notes about how to pay for it. where to start it. which people to ask for posibilities. but also notes about how to check the children. how to make sure the children and teens weren't use or abused or even worse!

And... well... not too shortly after that one of the Knights just... Sat in the chair and spoke casually... Scared the shit out of him at the time.

How was that dude so quiet?! or so strong for that matter?

How could his magic had backfired so badly?

Cross sighs as he turns to his side. He is an IDIOT. How could he have gotten so reckless?

Drema and Blue would have already been happy with him getting anything back from the king's plans... maybe he just couldnt see the danger in them clearly? Hell if he knows what the state in the country is. He knows nothing about this place.

Maybe the things he saw was a bad thing? Maybe there was some... weird way to make them look bad?

Like.

Maybe there was already little nature? Sure Cross saw a lot of it on his way here but hell if he knows? maybe there is little in the cities or soemthing?

Maybe the nobels are already being taxed a lot? maybe this will make the nobels all poor? and euh.... Cross isn't sure how taxing the poor less could be bad but maybe there is some way?

the farming thing... Well... Cross isn't sure... maybe the farmers don't want him to micro manage or soemthing? maybe the king is being too controlling about it? that works...

The children are obvious. those are vulnerable kids and teens! Who are being used and exploited!! Well... he would have to ignore all the sidenotes about the kids wellbeing... and the notes about banning child labor...

Cross groans. Why is it so hard to see the things he is doing as bad?! Dream told him that Nightmare is corrupted and the thing ruling now is evil and terrible and needs to be removed to save his twin!!

Then why are the plans good? Maybe he is faking it? But why? XGaster never bothered to fake anything... He was just rightfully the king and people should respect him.

Cross frowns as he turns on his side. Ignoring the guard standing well guard outside of his cell. He tugs on the magical blocker on his arm. Making him unable to use his magic to summon any weapon or try to take control over someone elses magic again.

Well... Not like he can try that with the guard guarding him again anyway. Seeing as it is Dust guarding him...

Cross tugs on it again and Dust speaks "Don't bother. Those things can't be removed by the wearer."

Cross freezes and looks over. He thought he had been sneaky enough. The one with the panther mask stares back.

Cross frowns as he turns back to the wall.

The Knight goes quiet again.

Cross tugs on the band one more time. Just to be spiteful. Before laying back and staring at the wall.

Fuck... He is going to die here? Isn't he?

Maybe they will just starve him...

Or maybe they will first torture him to figure out who he works for.

Cross is going to have to withstand it until he dies. He can't give up Dream and the fact he is planning a revolution.

He can't ruin another revolution that could save and help so many people.

He will have to be strong. Not give in. Not even an inch.

"I apologise I took so long Dust. Thank you for keeping watch."

Cross freezes at the new but familiar voice. Cross had heard the voice before. He had seen the owner walk around and had been getting information on him.

The king.

The fucking king.

Nightmare himself!

Why was the king here?!

Sure Cross had been spying and stealing information. But was that really such a big deal to get the king himself to interrogate him?!

Then again... Shed's tail had aparently been removed and used for cat toys...

He is so dead.

A click and the door to his cell slowly creaks open.

Cross's pulse is beating so fast.

Footsteps walking closer. before the door creaks closed. and is relocked.

He is so dead.

A few more steps and then silence for a moment as Cross tries to keep his panic at bay. He regrets staring at the wall.

"I know you are awake. Speaking will be a lot easier if we face each other."

Cross keeps laying there. What does he do?! He can't ignore him. Come on Cross. Be brave. You faced down scarier threats!

'But you had magic back then.' his mind whispers 'You had a way to defend yourself.'

Still. Cross sits up and turns around. Making sure he is glaring. He is not going to give in. "What is there to tell?" His voice holds the challange. He isn't afraid. He will not give in. He is not going to give this so-called king anything!

Nightmare tilts his skull slightly. intrigue clearly. Cross doesn't like the fact that he seems just so... unbothered by Cross. Cross is the enemy! He is sitting in the cell after Nightmare's forces found him snooping around, trying to steal information.

So why is this king staring at him with just intrigued! No rage? No disgust?!

Nightmare speaks again. Seemingly taking his time to think about his answers. trying to be actually truthful? or trying to think of an answer that Cross wants to hear? Wait... Is the king already in cross's head and mind? is Cross already being tricked?

Nightmare's voice breaks him out of his spiralled thinking "I think I disagree. there is a lot to talk about."

Cross tilts his skull upwards. stubborn energy in his soul "I won't tell you anything about who send me or why. No matter what!"

Nightmare looks slightly amused "I don't exactly care about who send you or why."

... what?

Nightmare continues, at his aparently obvious confusion, as he explains "I know there are people who wish to know what I am doing. I know people are scheming against me. It is nothing new. Even a spy as yourself is nothing new." he looks amused "The fact they even send you implies they know close to nothign about me, my land or my home. Or, that they don't care about you at all."

That.. that doesn't make any sense?!

Ngihtmare nods "I do apologise you swore your loyalty to those who know nothing of the target they send you to spy on. Otherwise they would have known that I am aware of what goes on in my castle and land." he smiles "they would have known that my Knights are everywhere and good at their jobs." he shoots Cross a look "They would know that i am aware of who is suposed to work where at which moment."

Cross feels his mind lock up as the information filters in... How... how hadn't Dream known this?

Ngihtmare waves a hand casually "You are a rather inexperienced spy. Not that it matters. As there is very little any type of skill could have done against me and those of mine. Either your employers know nothing of me which means they aren't much of a threat quite yet. Or they were willing to throw you away as some sort of test against me or you. Which just makes me unimpressed with them overall."

Cross just stares at the ground.

The Knight speaks softly "Way to ruin his worldview my king."

a moment of silence before "I apologise. I shouldn't have said those things. You did not deserve to hear those or have to worry about which case is true."

Cross snaps "Why am i not dead yet?!" He had heard about the terrible punishment this parasite of a king does. How he hurts people for jsut the hell of it... From Dream... form the guards working here... It makes no sense that Cross is still alive. Unless he wants to torture him of course...

A moment of silence.

Ngihtmare speaks a bit softer but still sure and confident "You meant no harm. You were here for a few days and no one was attacked. Neither myself, my knights, my servants or my people in the city. I do not see why i would punish you with death if you did not do a crime earning such a thing."

Cross glares up "And if i had hurt someone?" So he was just doing this own test?! this is just a test. That Cross can deal with. Cross can deal with someone trying to trick and test him!

The king chuckles and shakes his skull "It is very bold of you to assume you would have been able to hurt anyone. Just because we aren't obvious you were not walking around unnoticed or unwatched. If you had made a single move to hurt someone you would have been stopped and caught right away. I must admit however if you had tried that this conversation would be going very differently."

Cross frowns, wait... "If i moved to hurt someone? Anyone?"

Nightmare nods "Of course. The people who work for me are people who's safety i take very seriously. They are willing to work for me. in trade for their servitude i make sure they have what they need and want and more importantly. That they are safe to live their lifes." He sounds so certain and the answer is instantly.

He didn't even need to think about it.

Cross's mind is swimming as he tries to focus. This makes no sense... Why is he implying that he only punishes those who deserve it? That isn't waht others said. This... this is weird. This is the weirdest interrogation he has ever been part of. But he manages to find his voice again "What do you then even want to know?" It isn't like he knows anything.

Nightmare watches him "I am curious about the Lost Kingdom."

Cross flinches as he looks away. "It isn't called lost..." it isn't lost... it isn't! His... his brother- Nine is trying so hard to fix the mess Cross left behind. the mess Cross helped cause. It may be broken and a bit of a mess but it isn't lost. Lost implies there is nothing that can be saved from it.

A soft hum before he speaks again "I apologise. It is a name i took over from others." a moment of silence "I supose I am just curious what made the most loyal of knights of that land leave the country he was working on protecting."

Cross freezes. huh?

Nightmare waits for a moment but when Cross doens't answer he continues "It doesn't make sense to me. Your every move and motivation was from trying to protect the country you served. Yet here you are. Instead of there."

Cross looks to the side. He... he had tried to protect but he failed everyone. He always failed... He made the most terrible mistake of mistakes... How could he stay? they didn't want him to stay. He didn't deserve to stay after that.

Cross looks to the side and speaks "No one wanted the loyal dog of the tyrant to stay. so i left." there.

a moment of silence. "Seems a bit of a harsh name for someone who was loyal to the country."

Cross glares "I wasn't! I just did what the old tyrant wanted!" Like an idiot who can't think for himself. He just did whatever his father told him. Too blind and too stupid to see that XGaster was hurting others.

Nightmare continues to look at him "And you believed in him to make the right choices for the country. That is the job of a king. Make sure that what is done is done to improve the land. improve the country. improve life for the people. It is not your fault that XGaster didn't honour his rule. That he did not do what he was suposed to. What he was sworn into."

Cross can't hear this. Not form sometone who is suposed to be eveil but seems to know so much. Who seems to know what it means to be king yet who isn't suposed to care. Why is this thing who is possessing an innocent acting as it he cares? How would this thing know what makes a good king?!

Cross asks him as much. "Why do you care!?" it is more of a snap than a question.

Is it... Is it Nightmare? Influencing the thing brainwashing him and controlling him? Fighting back?

Dream would be happy to hear that.

Nightmare still thinks about the question. He looks ahead of himself with a tiny frown. Seemingly thinking.

Cross however can't help that notice how blue the cyan eye is. Clearly unnatural. Toxic even... Yet calm. There is no rage hidden that Dream warned him about. No edge of insanity or madness. Just calm and insightful thoughts. Control over his mind? but that makes no sense if he is brainwashed...

The body is not at all what Cross even expected to once see. Ngihtmare had this imposing presence. The fact his form was covered with a goop that had melted over one of his sockets didn't help. The way those tentacles on his back moved and idled. Seemingly without a single thought- wait... didn't octopusses have like... brains in each tentacle. Did that mean that Nightmare had five brains working and thinking for him?

Still... The corruption is so clearly... strange. Dream had told him that the powers given by the ritual was suposed to make a king and warrior of light. Of good. This form is proof that Nightmare wasn't suposed to gain this power. It is dark and moving and changing... But Cross can't help but think it doesn't look that bad, that the name corruption doesn't quite fit. It doesn't radiate any harm in anyway. Not like that time in the hall... Is... Nightmare able to control the presence it gives off? Why wouldn't he use it now? The slight magic he can still feel is potent and strong and unlike anything Cross ever felt before... But it isn't like other poisonous magics Cross had learned about. That he had trained to recognise. It is strange...

Cross decides to focus on the clothes he is wearing. It is clearly high quality stuff. not to forget the golden accents and actual bands around the tentacles. the clips with apple motifs. the detailing of branches like swirls in the same cyan colour as that eye, just less obvious because the fabric is slightly see through.

It makes for one intimidating image. One that the king carries with confidence and familiarity.

Nightmare speaks "I care because i wish to understand. We learn by understanding others. Even if i don't agree with someone doesn't mean i don't have to understand them. In matter of fact. the only way to truly disagree and be against something is to understand or at least know about the concept. When it is about why people do certain actions it is important to learn their motives and reasons. to understand why they did what they did before casting out judgement."

Cross can't deal with him... how is this suposed evil tyrant so understanding?

He is nothing like XGaster.

Nothing at all.

Cross can see that so clearly and so easily. This is someone who knows what he is talking about and who doesn't just say what you want to hear. Cross thought he knew what he was going into. He thought he would meet a man simular to XGaster.

Someone who manipulates. Someone who lies. Someone who turns every answer into a small insult. Someone who tells you how to think and why you are an idiot for not thinkinf like that from the start. Someone who believes himself to be perfect and not capable of fault.

Cross believed his father to be rightful in being this way and thinking that way for so long. It wasn't until after the revolution Cross finally noticed the cracks in the facade.

Cross thought... he figured he would be able to see through whatever mask Ngihtmare is wearing. Metaphorical of course. But he can't... he is failing. He can't figure this out.

Is... is cross being an idiot again? is Nightmare lying to him and is Cross still just unable to see it?

Or is there no mask to see through? no mask to spot the cracks in?

What does he do?

Nightmare waits and remains quiet until Cross actually focusses on him. When he does Nightmare speaks again "I wish to know what happened there. In your home."

His home...

"It isn't my home..." not anymore...

Nightmare nods and speaks again "Then what happened to the country that you used to serve and protect. What caused the downfall?"

Cross looks to the side "A revolution obviously..."

Ngihtmare nods and waits.

Cross glares "I was an idiot and could not pick a side. I couldn't fight my brother who lead the revolution but i could also not betray my lord. I ended up trying to help both yet messed everything up." he glares at the king "I made everything worse." all because he just couldn't pick.

Ngihtmare tilts his skull "Rather extreme. Thinking just one person can make or break a revolution."

Cross blinks.

Nightmare nods calmly "I am not saying that you couldn't have made it go better. That is always an option. However. A revolution... a rebellion. It is the same thing, and it is messy. it is dangerous. One person can not make things go perfect. that is impossible."

Dust coughs lightly into his hand. The king shoots him a look but nothing else happens.

The king turns back to him "You are not responsible for everything that happened. could you have helped? Yes. But... the choice that you made also enabled you to do the few things you could. the little bits you did to help your brother. If you had picked to defend the old tyrant. You would have had to hurt others."

Cross glares down "I know i should have helped."

Ngihtmare shakes his skull "That isn't what i am saying. the point i am trying to make is. You never know what you would have done in the other two situations. You could have joined your brother. but then you would have had to fight the very people you trained and fought beside before. The same people who know you through and through. who know how you fight and move." and he looks at him. "You helping them. either side of the conflict. would have meant you would have been at a different position at any given point. The things that happened wouldn't and couldn't have happened because your actions in this... neutral choice also had consequences and effect. It meant that XGaster stationed you as a guard. if you hadn't been available he would maybe have used two others to gain the same protection you gave him. You didn't stop the revolution when they got to you. instead there would have been two guards guarding the door." And nightmare give shim a moment to let that information sink in.

Cross stops... he... hadn't thought about... all he could think about is how he could have made things different. Thinking about how his skills could have helped specific moments... he hadn't considered that... him helping them from the start would have chanced everything...

and the moment where he could have helped... may never have even happened.

Cross shakes his skull "Things would have been better if i had picked a side."

The king considers it "Maybe it would have. Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe by not picking a side you were able to do enough damage control for both sides that enabled it to even be successful. Maybe not picking a side made it last longer. You can not know which choice would ahve been better as you never saw the options."

Cross isn't sure what is even going on anymore. He had believed... He had been sure that him not making a choice just made everythign worse. Everyone agreed. Everyone must have agreed or else they wouldn't have made sure to remind him about his mistake each moment they could...

right?

Nightmare nods before getting up. Cross only now notices that Nightmare had been using his own tentacles as a chair "But I think I have pushed you too far already with my questions. You need rest and time to process and calm down. Food will be brought to you later." he turns towards the cell door and exits.

The king nods to the guard and starts to walk away.

Wait...

Wait!

Cross jumps up and rushes to the bars "Wait!"

The king stops and turns back to him "yes?" and he waits.

Cross pants "You said... Way before... at the start... There had been others like me. other spies. Where are they now?" Dream said others had been send before right? Or maybe even other forces. That Nightmare killed them?

Nightmare tilts his skull "My knights or I myself spoke to them. Much like I am doing wiht you. Those who meant no harm and held no wish to hurt those here... They were offered a change of scenery. They mentioned they couldn't and didn't want to return a failure to their old leaders. There is always room and a need for people willing to work and help."

Cross frowns "And those who did wish to return home?"

Nightmare looks unbothered "After making sure they were no threat they were released at the border. With a warning to not return. Once is an happening after all, one people can learn from. However if it turns out they lied or wished to return to do harm after all they were punished for their crimes."

Cross looks down as his mind spins "Oh..."

Nightmare waits for a moment longer before nodding "Rest up. I will come back either tomorrow or the day after to continue our conversation." he turns and leaves.

Cross slowly lets go of the bars and goes back to the bed in the cell... He can't help but notice that it is actually rather comfortable here.

Sure there are bars and he is locked in and unable to use magic...

But there is fresh air. Some natural sunlight comes in through the barred windows. It isn't cold or wet. There are warm blankets and soft places to sit...

Even if it is a jailcell. It is comfortable at least.

Cross rolls back up on the bed and thinks.

His mind going over the past conversation and thinking about what he learned. For it having been suposed to be a way for the king to learn about Cross it was just Cross learning about Nightmare.

What had the king even wanted to learn? All Cross told him was how he thought about things and experienced it. Not even how the revolution happened or what events took place.

If Nightmare had wished to know those it would make sense. Then it would gain Nightmare insight to how the revolution managed to be successfull and what to defend against.

And yet...

and yet...

He didn't. All Nightmare wished to know was what Cross did.

It doesn't make sense.

None of it does.

It doesn't take long but eventually a maid comes along. a human and she bows in respect to the Knight before turning towards Cross with a smile "Hello there. I brought you some food. It are roasted potatoes and a salad." she puts it on the little opening to push it into his cell "Once you are done please place it back in this same area. Makes us able to clean it up which will leave your area a bit cleaner!" she smiles happily before nodding once she sees Cross paying her attention.

After that she turns away, bows to the Knight again,before leaving.

Cross makes his way to the food slowly but the Knight standing guard doesn't make a single move to take or mess with it.

Cross grabs his food and takes a seat on his bed again. He eats it slowly and feels his hand shake once he realises it is actually good.

It is taste and warm and filled with nutrients.

Why are they treating him so nicely?

Cross just... doesn't get it...

Maybe he can ask the next time Nightmare comes to him to talk?

Maybe he can get some answers after all...

*------------------------*

In case you guys don't get the title name. It is a joke. Because Cross is being interrogated but it is more a mutual Q&A...

I will leave now.

[marsmarbles]

If you have the time, could you maybe do a scene with bigb teaching grian how to bake his famous cookies? Or maybe something a bit more angsty, like one of them getting to the other only to find their leftover items? Or whatever you want honestly! Thx for the secret soulmates food! :p

I had an idea for this request but it would be too much to draw so I’m actually gonna try and do some writing instead. Sorry for those who don’t like reading. It’s kinda long.

Golden Light to Silver Shadows

Grian nervously stood before the Food Crew’s bakery entrance, clamping his sweaty hands on a present he had spent all day preparing for BigB. Turning the knob of the door and pushing it open activated an alarm system set up by Fwhip. A bell rang and a few note blocks could be heard. It was a charming little jingle to welcome customers. The bakery was cozy with cherry plank walls and coffee colored spruce floors. A few circle tables were sprinkled in the center of the room with booths lining the walls. Lanterns, succulents, and baskets of flowery bushes hung from the ceiling. BigB was sat behind the counter. He was examining the creases in the floorboards with his head resting on his hand. He had been daydreaming. BigB loved his bakery, but it was admittedly boring to wait for customers. The door jingle alerted him to Grian’s presence.

“Grian!” BigB lit up in excitement, his antennae wiggled with joy. The genuine excitement to see Grian was more than enough to make Grian’s face flush. “Hey, BigB. I uhhh… made something for you.”

Grian slid a bag of cookies across the counter with shaky hands. They were neatly wrapped in a shimmery clear bag, tightly fastened with a blue ribbon with gold accents. “This was my first time ever making cookies, so sorry if they’re bad. Maybe you can show me your secret recipe,” Grian laughed nervously.

BigB gleefully loosened the blue ribbon holding the bag shut, took a cookie, and ate it whole. It was crunchy and thin and….hollow(?)…they weren’t bad by any means. For Grian’s first time, BigB appreciated the love and effort he put in. He had waited all day for someone to show up to the bakery. And the fact that it was Grian made it even better. He didn’t want him to leave just yet.

“How about we make some cookies together! The cocoa beans should be ready in the greenhouse,” BigB suggested, gesturing to the entrance to the greenhouse just behind him.

“I’d love to!” Grian quickly replied. The word ‘together’ was enough.

After BigB stashed away the cookies for later in the top cabinet, he and Grian made their way to the back door to the greenhouse. Grian had to do an awkward shuffle around the counter to keep up. The greenhouse was gorgeous. Golden light shone through the semi transparent overhang and broke through the flowers and leaves. Parrots chirped and bees buzzed. Luscious plants swayed in the gentle breeze. Glow berry vines slung from the ceiling as axolotls and frogs popped out from the ponds, curious of the new visitor. Grian stared in awe. This was more of a massive nature preserve than any greenhouse he’s ever been in.

“Grian?” BigB broke Grian out of his trance. “The cocoa bean farm is over here.”

“Uh right,” Grian said, adjusting his glasses and wiping his mouth and chin with his coat sleeve (just to make sure he didn’t drool while distracted).

BigB led him to a cluster of jungle trees. They reached high, popping out the top of through the ceiling. Podzol and bamboo were dotted around in clumps. Just past the cocoa bean farm was the end of the greenhouse. Through the transparent walls could be a seen an expansive jungle forest, stretching well beyond the world borders. BigB pulled off a ready cocoa bean plant and inspected it for abnormalities. After checking that it was good, he held it out for Grian. “Why don’t you try to break this one open?”

“Uhh I dunno,” Grian held his hands up, unsure.

In that moment, Grian took a pause. Actually, the whole world felt in slow motion. Something unseen had disturbed the peace. His Watcher senses were tingling, so to speak. Something was about to happen….. Suddenly, as the world picked back up in speed, BigB’s calming smile was shot down with an excruciating pain all throughout his body; every muscle, every ligament, every organ, each and every follicle of hair. The cocoa bean plant dropped and exploded on impact with the earth. A jolt went up his spine and his legs went out on him. He tumbled to the ground. He had no process time to scream or cry out in pain. He just fell.

“BIGB!!!!” Grian shrieked, dropping to his knees to assist him just as fast as BigB fell. “B-BIGB WHAT HAPPENED ARE YOU OKAY??”

“I-I…I think I’m going…J-Jimmy…he-”BigB managed to get out with a weak shaky breath.

“BigB! BigB! Please I need you to stay with me BigB,” Grian frantically cradled BigB in his arms. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He checked chat…

…Jimmy had fallen to his death…

Oh, fucking of course, Grian thought. Grian hadn’t considered Jimmy being in control of BigB’s lives, but with that confirmation he’d might as well think of this as his final moments with his secret soulmate.

“Grian….” BigB mustered the strength to caress Grian’s cheek and wipe away a tear. “…it’s ok….i’ll be right back….it’s just one life….”

“BigB….” Grian quietly whined, taking BigB’s hand, keeping it held to his cheek. He felt it go cold and his arm become heavy. Grian saw the last of the light in BigB’s dark eyes fade as his body became limp. Grian pulled his lifeless corpse into one final hug. And as BigB dissipated into smoke and billowed away…..Grian was left alone.

All the light and magic that the greenhouse had greeted him with was gone. The birds went silent, the bees hid back into their hives. The trees and flowers went grey and the golden light became silver shadows. Silently, Grian collected BigB’s fallen items, keeping his head down to hide his tearful look. And as he slowly closed the chest he stored BigB’s items in, he heard voices in the distance. It was a collection of people, most notably Scott, Martyn, Fwhip, and Joel, with a tomato faced Jimmy stomping ahead of them.

“Jimmy!!! We’re sorry!! We didn’t think you’d miss the water!” Scott cackled as he tried to explain himself to Jimmy.

“It was bad maths!! Bad maths!!” Martyn pleaded with a giggle.

“We didn’t think you’d die!!” Scott added, trying to breathe through his laughter.

“IM NOT HAVING ANY OF IT!!!!” Jimmy snapped back at them. “PLAYING BUNGEE JUMP WITH FISHING RODS IS THE LAST THING WE SHOULD BE THINKING ABOUT DOING IN A PLACE LIKE THIS!!! WHAT DO YOU THINK IMMA TELL BIGB, ‘THAT IT WAS JUST A PRANK’!!??”

Jimmy stormed into the bakery, and as he slammed the door, Fwhip’s voice was cut off; “but it was just a prank-“

Grian could here Jimmy stomp about in the bakery. He must’ve been looking for BigB. Jimmy ran out into the greenhouse and froze to find Grian and the aftermath of the incident. Grian stood there with a clenched fist and a chest by his feet. He gave Jimmy a stone cold glare with his dark eyes. Jimmy flinched at the sight of his expression.

“I put BigB’s stuff in this chest,” Grian said almost robotically, pointing to the box.

Jimmy desperately wanted to apologize, but Grian looked like he would accept nothing; not even a notch apple. Grian stiffly walked past him.

“I’m sorry….about BigB…” Jimmy made an attempt at an apology, hoping that Grian could find it in him somewhere to forgive him. Grian paused.

“It wasn’t your fault, Tim….” Grian said without turning back to him. “It was their’s….”

Grian continued walking, leaving Jimmy to wallow. He made his way to the bakery and took a seat at one of the circle tables. The room felt cold and desolate compared to before. Like it was a completely different place that the greenhouse had spat him back out into. He shuffled his chair forward and laid his head down, waiting for BigB’s return.

I actually had a lot of fun writing this, even though I wouldn’t consider myself a very skilled writer(and there’s most definitely a lot of mistakes I made lol). I felt like it was easier to depict a full scene compared to a comic(which would’ve probably taken me weeks). So I’ll do more writing like this in the future.