#THE MOON IS MOVING AGAIN GUYS THE MOON! IS! MOVING!
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Request: Maybe Rafe and Reader have been dating for awhile but his cocaine addiction is getting worse and he thinks she is to pure/good for him, so in order to ''save her'' knowing she won't just leave if he tries to break up, he says he does not love her.......cue to him saving her when she is about to get hit by a car (but happy ending)
a/n: thank you for requesting!!☺️💕 pngs from @saizun
the moon hung low in the dark sky, its silver glow painting the beach in a cool, otherworldly light. the stars above flickered like distant candles, barely visible against the ink-black horizon. you knelt in the damp sand, your breath clouding in the chilly night air as you carefully cupped a baby turtle in your hands.
the little creature’s legs flailed against your palms, desperate to reach the sea. its determination was a stark contrast to the ache in your chest that hadn’t dulled in the two weeks since rafe cameron had shattered your world.
“this way, little guy,” you whispered, placing the turtle closer to the waves lapping gently at the shore. you sat back on your heels, the water soaking into the hem of your pants, and watched as the tide carried the tiny creature away.
you felt at peace in moments like this—away from everything, especially the memories of rafe.
but peace never lasted long when it came to him.
rafe sat in his truck a short distance away, his fingers twitching against the steering wheel. he shouldn’t have come here. seeing you again, after what he’d done, was a mistake.
yet here he was.
from where he sat, he could see you crouched on the sand, your figure illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. you looked serene, your hair tumbling over your shoulders as you reached toward the water.
he clenched his jaw. he didn’t deserve to look at you, let alone love you.
but it didn’t stop him from being here.
two weeks had passed since he’d told you he didn’t love you anymore. two weeks of torturing himself with the memory of your face—hurt, confused, desperate to understand. he’d lied because he thought it would save you. because he thought pushing you away would keep you from sinking with him.
instead, it had only made him sink deeper.
on the seat next to him, a bag of cocaine lay unopened. for once, he didn’t even want it. what he wanted was impossible—to turn back time and undo the damage he’d done.
his stomach churned when he saw the headlights.
you heard the rumble of an engine before you saw the headlights sweeping across the sand. you turned your head, squinting against the glare as the vehicle sped closer.
it was a blue jeep, its music blaring loud enough to drown out the waves. your stomach twisted when you recognized it.
topper.
the bass from the speakers shook the air as the car barreled toward the shoreline, its tires kicking up clouds of sand.
“seriously?” you muttered under your breath, standing up. you waved your arms, your voice cutting through the night. “hey! slow down!”
the jeep didn’t stop. instead, it swerved closer, the headlights making it nearly impossible to see.
your heart hammered as the car bore down on you, its speed relentless.
rafe’s blood ran cold as he watched the jeep hurtling toward you.
it didn’t take much to guess who was behind the wheel. ruthie and topper had been drinking all night—it was obvious from the way the car swerved recklessly across the sand.
the jeep was getting closer, and you weren’t moving.
“goddammit,” rafe hissed, throwing his truck into drive and flooring the gas.
the sound of tires skidding on sand drowned out the crashing of waves.
the jeep’s headlights blinded you, freezing you in place like a deer caught in a trap. your legs refused to move, your breath caught in your throat as the car sped closer.
“y/n!”
the shout snapped you out of your trance, but it was too late. the car was almost on you.
suddenly, a solid force slammed into you, knocking you off your feet. you hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from your lungs as sand scraped against your skin.
the jeep swerved at the last second, speeding past with a deafening roar and disappearing down the beach.
you lay there, stunned, the world spinning around you.
“baby! are you okay?”
you turned your head and saw rafe kneeling beside you, his face pale and drawn, his chest heaving as if he’d just run a marathon.
“rafe?”
“you could’ve been killed!” his voice shook with anger and fear.
“i—what are you doing here?”
“are you serious right now?” he snapped. “i just saved your life, and you’re asking me that?”
his hands were all over you, checking for injuries. the touch was rough, desperate, and achingly familiar.
“i’m fine,” you muttered, sitting up slowly.
“you’re not fine,” he shot back, his voice cracking. “what the hell were you thinking, standing in the middle of the beach like that?”
“i was helping the turtles!” you exclaimed, frustration bubbling to the surface.
“turtles?” he stared at you like you’d grown a second head. “you almost died because of some turtles?”
“why do you even care?” the words spilled out before you could stop them, sharp and laced with bitterness. “you don’t love me, remember?”
rafe froze, his expression crumbling.
“y/n…”
“no, don’t. you don’t get to act like this after what you did.” tears burned your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “you don’t get to pretend like you care.”
“i do care,” he said, his voice raw. “i never stopped caring.”
“then why did you say it?”
“because i thought i was protecting you!” his voice rose, echoing over the waves. “i thought if i let you go, you’d be safe from me. from all of this.”
“rafe—”
“no, listen to me.” his hands cupped your face, his blue eyes searching yours. “i didn’t mean it. any of it. i said it because i’m a coward. because i didn’t want you to see what i’ve become.”
tears spilled down your cheeks, blurring your vision. “you didn’t have to do this alone. i would’ve helped you.”
“i didn’t want you to.” his voice cracked, thick with emotion. “you’re too good, y/n. too good for someone like me.”
“that’s not your decision to make,” you said, your voice trembling. “you don’t get to decide what’s good for me. i do. and i chose you, rafe. i always chose you.”
his thumb brushed a tear from your cheek. “i don’t deserve you.”
“then be someone who does,” you whispered.
he closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours. “i don’t know how.”
“we’ll figure it out. together.”
the words hung in the air between you, fragile but full of hope.
for the first time in weeks, rafe felt like he could breathe again.
“i love you,” he said, the words breaking free like a dam finally bursting. “i love you so much, and i’m so sorry i ever made you think i didn’t.”
you pulled him into a hug, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck. he held you like you were his lifeline, his anchor in the storm.
“i love you too,” you murmured against his shoulder.
the night stretched on, the waves crashing softly in the background as you clung to each other. the future was uncertain, but for now, you had each other.
and that was enough.
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#rafe obx#rafe cameron#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe outer banks#rafe fic#rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe angst#rafe fluff#rafecore#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#dark rafe cameron#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx#obx season 4
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"Summer nights like this had a way of unfolding secrets. The kind of nights when the air hung heavy with pine and smoke, the moon glinting like a shy voyeur against the rippling surface of the lake. This wasn’t your first time at the Washington family cabin, but it was the first time that everything felt different. No parents. No rules. And, worst of all, no escape from the fact that Josh Washington was here, and he wasn’t yours."
summary: Your best friend invites you to their annual summer trip to the family cabin in the mountains—something you've done before. But this year is different: no parents. After years of secretly harboring feelings for your best friend’s brother, Josh, you decide this is the perfect chance to finally confess.
tags: best friend's brother!joshua washington x f!reader, childhood crush, both josh and reader like each other but act oblivious (josh more than reader), reader is low key obsessed with josh, minor age gap, alternative universe where Hannah and Beth are still alive, some angst, p in v (protected), virginity loss (reader), kind of fluff, josh talks you through it (yummy!!), fingering (f receiving), idiots in love 🫶🏻
/ᐠ - ˕ -マ tokkis note 𑁯 ✿ hey... how yall doing... the rami malek fever is so real i had to write something. so i did. 6,45k words to be more exact, teehee! i dont quite know what this is, but i had fun writing it, like it got me giggling and shit so yeah 💀 if you see any typos close your eyes, forget you saw anything. enjoy!
7th grade. That was when you stopped thinking of Josh Washington as just Hannah’s annoying older brother. Between the way he stayed behind after soccer practice to teach you how to kick a penalty and the smirk he threw over his shoulder, like he knew you were watching him. The first time when you actually considered Josh not being a jerk like other boys. In 9th grade, he became the hottest guy you had ever met. or maybe you just got so used to his face that you didn't want to look at other boys. Fast forward to now, you're starting college in one month, and things have changed in a way. maybe for the worstㅡ because he's all you can think about.
“You’re staring again.” Hannah’s voice snaps you out of your daze. She’s grinning, nudging your ribs as the two of you sit on the couch in the cabin. “You’re so obvious.” You blink and turn toward her, cheeks heating. “I—I wasn’t staring!”
“Oh, you were,” she teases, popping a chip into her mouth. “What is it this time? The hair? The jawline? Or did you finally notice his arms? I mean, have you seen him chop firewood? That’s peak Josh.”
“Hannah!” You hiss, smacking her arm. She only laughs, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. But she’s not wrong. Somewhere between your senior year of high school and now, Josh had gone from the boy who made stupid puns to the man who could take your breath away just by walking into a room. Unfortunately, it seems like he doesn’t notice.
“Still no move, huh?” Hannah says, lowering her voice. “You’re not seriously going to spend another summer in silent agony, are you?” You sigh. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Josh, remember me? The girl who used to wear braces and cried when I lost my retainer? Cool. Wanna make out?’” Hannah snorts so loudly that Beth, sitting nearby with her book, looks over with a frown. “What are you two laughing about now?”
“Nothing,” you and Hannah say in unison, though she’s still stifling giggles. Beth looks at you both, arching a brow. “Sure,” she says, clearly unconvinced, but she doesn’t push. She returns to her book, leaving you free to squirm under Hannah’s knowing gaze.
Josh doesn’t stick around to witness your humiliation. He’s already disappeared into the kitchen, and the sound of the fridge opening and the clinking of bottles is the only thing tethering you to the moment. “Do something this trip,” Hannah murmurs, leaning close so Beth doesn’t overhear. “Seriously. You’ve been mooning over him since forever. And now—” she waves a hand at the open windows, the twilight stretching wide like a stage—“this is your moment.”
“Hannah, it’s not like that,” you say, but even you don’t believe it. Not when your heart skips every time Josh is within ten feet of you. “It’s exactly like that,” she shoots back, voice low but insistent. “He likes you, too, you know.” You look at her sharply. “What?”
“Oh, don’t give me that face,” Hannah says, rolling her eyes. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s just... Josh. Oblivious as hell.”
You’re about to argue, to tell her she’s wrong, that there’s no way Joshua Washington— carefree, clever, confident Josh, could ever see you like that. But before you can, his voice carries from the kitchen. “You two plotting something?” Your breath hitches, and Hannah, ever the instigator, grins. “Maybe,” she calls back. Josh reappears, beer in hand, and leans against the doorway. His green eyes flick between the two of you, and for a moment, you swear they linger on you. “Well, don’t blow up the cabin,” he says with a crooked smile before heading out onto the porch.
That night, the cabin settled into quiet. Beth retires early, Hannah tucked away in the room you’re sharing, and yet you can’t sleep. Your thoughts swirl—images of Josh’s hands, the way his eyes looked into yours, his voice, smooth and teasing, the way his smile felt like a hook tugging you somewhere you shouldn’t want to go.
The room feels suffocating, the summer heat pressing against your skin. You slip out of bed as quietly as you can, grabbing a towel and slipping into your swimsuit. The lake isn’t far. You’ve been there a hundred times before, but tonight, it feels like it’s waiting just for you. The water is cold when you first step in, but it’s a welcome relief, a shock that clears your head. You wade in deeper, letting the towel drop onto the shore, and soon, the swimsuit feels like too much. You hesitate, glancing back toward the cabin, but it’s silent and still. “Just you and the lake,” you whisper to yourself. The swimsuit peels away, and the water envelops you like a second skin. You float, staring up at the sky, letting the cool liquid carry the weight of your thoughts.
But then a voice shatters the stillness.
“Didn’t take you for a midnight swimmer.”
You jolt, water sloshing as you whirl toward the shore. Josh is standing there, hands in his pockets, his head cocked in that infuriatingly casual way he always manages. “Josh!” You shriek, sinking deeper into the water. “What are you doing out here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he says, stepping closer to the water’s edge. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Something like that,” you mutter, your cheeks burning even as the water cools your skin. His eyes sweep over the lake, lingering just long enough to make your heart race. “You always were full of surprises,” he says softly, almost to himself. “Are you just going to stand there and watch me, or are you joining?” you ask before you can think better of it. The question hangs in the air, bold and daring, and for a moment, you think you’ve scared him off. But then he grins.
“Alright.”
You watch, half in awe, as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the toned lines of his chest and the faint trail of scars along his ribs. He doesn’t stop there, shucking off his jeans until he’s left in his boxers.
The water ripples as he drops in, and suddenly, he’s closer than you expected, the space between you charged with something you can’t quite name. “This is nice,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. You nod, the words caught in your throat. “Do you ever feel like...” He trails off, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Like there’s something just out of reach? Like you want to grab it, but you’re scared of what happens if you do?”
Your heart thuds. “All the time.” His gaze shifts to you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you think he’s going to say something—something that will change everything. Instead, he leans back, letting himself float. “Good thing we’ve got the whole summer,” he murmurs.
You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself. But one thing is clear: you’ll spend every moment of this summer trying to pull him closer.
The next morning, the cabin feels alive with the quiet rustle of summer. Birds trill in the trees, and sunlight pours through the open windows, a golden invitation to start the day. Hannah is already on the deck with a cup of coffee, scrolling on her phone when you step out. “You’re up early,” she says, not looking up. You shrug, trying to hide how restless you’d been all night after what happened at the lake. “Couldn’t sleep.”
She raises a brow but doesn’t press. “Josh is down at the dock,” she says, nodding toward the lake. “Probably sulking. You know how he gets.”
You hesitate. “Why’s he sulking?”
She snorts. “Because the rest of the group isn’t getting here until tomorrow. You’d think one day without his entourage wouldn’t kill him.” You glance toward the lake. the memory of last night. Josh’s quiet words, the way the moonlight danced in his eyes, it's still fresh in your mind. “You should go,” Hannah says, smirking now. “Cheer him up. Or stare at him some more. Whatever works.”
“Hannah!” But she’s already gone, slipping back into the cabin and leaving you with no choice but to head toward the dock.
Josh is sitting on the edge of the wooden dock, his feet dangling in the water. The air smells like cedar and the faint tang of sunscreen. for a moment, you almost turn back. But then he glances over his shoulder and sees you. “Morning,” he says, his voice softer than usual. “Hey,” you say, stepping onto the dock and sitting a few feet away. For a while, neither of you speak. The lake stretches out before you, endless and still, and it feels like the world has shrunk to just the two of you.
“Big day ahead of us,” Josh says eventually, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Yeah,” you reply, matching his smile. “So many exciting activities. Staring at trees. Staring at water. Staring at each other.” He laughs, and the sound is warm and unexpected. “Careful. I might think you’re obsessed with me.” Your stomach flips, but you keep your voice light. “Who says I’m not?”
Josh looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve said too much. But instead of teasing, his expression softens. “I don’t get you sometimes,” he says quietly.
“What do you mean?” He shrugs, kicking at the water. “You’re just...different. Not like everyone else.” oh boy. “Good different or bad different?” you ask, your heart in your throat. Josh doesn’t answer right away. His gaze shifts to the endless forest, and when he finally speaks, his voice pangs through you.
“Good,” he says. "Definitely good.”
The rest of the day is a blur of lazy activities—helping Beth organize the kitchen, listening to Hannah’s playlist on the deck, and avoiding Josh just enough to keep your heart from imploding. By sunset, the air is thick with the anticipation of the group’s arrival tomorrow. Hannah flops onto the couch beside you, phone in hand. “Sam says they’re leaving first thing in the morning,” she says. “So, enjoy the quiet while it lasts.”
“Quiet?” Beth calls from the kitchen, laughing. “Have you met us?” Hannah rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. Tomorrow it’s going to be chaos. Jess and Emily bickering, Chris and Ashley pretending they’re not totally in love, Matt trying to keep the peace...and then there’s Josh.”
“What about Josh?” You ask before you can stop yourself. Hannah gives you a look. “You tell me.”
That night, you find yourself back at the lake, drawn by the same restless energy that kept you up the night before. You don’t plan on skinny dipping again—it feels too risky with everyone around—but the water calls to you anyway, soothing and eternal.
And maybe, just maybe, Josh feels the same right now.
You’re sitting on the shore, toes dipping into the cool water when you hear footsteps behind you. “Couldn’t sleep again?” You don’t have to turn around to know it’s him. “I could say the same to you,” you reply, glancing back. Josh sits beside you, his shoulder brushing yours, and the warmth of him is enough to set your skin buzzing. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” he says after a while.
“What is?”
“Being back here. Without... you know. Adults. Rules.” You nod, the weight of his words settling over you. “Feels different.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Makes you think about stuff.”
“Like what?” you ask, heart pounding.
Josh doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he picks up a stone and skips it across the water. One, two, three perfect skips before it sinks. “Like what happens next,” he says finally. “For all of us. Feels like everything’s about to change.”
You don’t know what to say to that. So, instead, you reach for your own stone, throwing it as hard as you can. It skips once before plunking into the water. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and figure it out,” you say, keeping your voice light.
Josh looks at you, his eyes shadowed and searching, and for a moment, you think he’s going to say something. what you want to hear, maybe. something important. But instead, he smiles, that same lopsided grin that’s been haunting your dreams for years. “Good,” he says.
“I’d miss you otherwise.”
The cabin feels too small the moment the others arrive. It’s a blur of bodies, laughter, and chaos as the others spill into the space, dragging in bags, cooler boxes, and enough energy to wake the dead. It’s not that you mind them—you’ve known most of Josh’s friends for years, but something about the way the cabin hums now feels different. The tight, intimate bubble you’d shared with Josh, Hannah, and Beth is gone, replaced by noise and the easy rhythm of their group. You feel...adrift, to say the least. And watching Josh slip seamlessly back into his role as the charismatic center of attention only makes it worse.
By the time night falls, the cabin is alive with music, the sharp pop of bottle caps, and the low buzz of conversation. You find yourself perched in a corner of the living room, a half-empty drink in hand, watching the others like a ghost at your own party.
Josh is at the center of it all, as always. He’s standing near the couch, laughing at something Sam said, and the sound is enough to send your stomach twisting into knots. Sam, of course, is radiant—effortlessly pretty in her cropped sweatshirt, her hair catching the light like spun gold. She’s animated, gesturing with her hands, and every time Josh leans closer to hear her, you feel like the room tilts off its axis. “Hey,” Hannah says, sliding in next to you with a knowing look. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you lie, taking a sip of your drink. Hannah snorts. “Subtle.” You glance at her, frowning. “What?”
“You know what,” she says, tilting her head toward Josh and Sam. “Seriously, if you’re going to keep looking at him like that, you might as well do something about it.”
“I’m not looking at him,” you protest weakly. Hannah rolls her eyes. “Sure. And I’m not your best friend.” She pauses, watching you for a moment before her expression softens. “Look, you’re not exactly subtle when it comes to Josh. But for what it’s worth? I think he’s just as clueless about how he feels as you are.” Her words settle into your chest, a mix of hope and frustration, but before you can respond, Jess calls out from the other side of the room.
“Hey! Who’s up for Spin the Bottle?” You couldn’t escape it, let's be honest.
You don’t know how it happens, but somehow, you end up in the circle. Maybe it’s the drinking, or maybe it’s Hannah giving you a pointed nudge as everyone sits on the floor, but before you know it, you’re sandwiched between her and Ashley, your pulse pounding in your ears. Josh is directly across from you, his green eyes bright in the firelight. Sam is to his left, Jess to his right, and the knot in your stomach tightens. “Okay, ground rules,” Jess says, grinning wickedly. “No chickening out. You spin, you kiss. Period.”
There’s a chorus of laughter and a few groans, but no one protests. Chris goes first, spinning the bottle with dramatic flair. It lands on Ashley, who blushes furiously but leans in to kiss him. The group erupts in cheers and wolf whistles, and you can’t help but smile despite yourself.
One by one, the bottle makes its rounds. Jess and Emily kiss, Matt kisses Ashley despite him protesting, and eventually, it’s Josh’s turn. He spins the bottle with a lazy flick of his wrist, the glass neck twirling endlessly before it slows, stops, and lands on Sam.
Your stomach drops.
“Oh, come on,” Jess says, clapping her hands. “This is gonna be good.” Josh raises an eyebrow, glancing at Sam. She shrugs, smiling, and leans forward.
You can’t look away.
Their lips meet in a brief, playful kiss—nothing dramatic, nothing earth-shattering. but it’s enough. Enough to make your chest ache, your fingers tighten around the drink in your hand. When they pull apart, everyone cheers again, and Josh laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your turn,” he says, handing the bottle to Sam. But you don’t care. You’re too busy swallowing the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the way your vision blurs at the edges.
Later, when the game ends and the group begins to disperse, you slip outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the suffocating cabin. The lake stretches out before you, dark and endless, and for a moment, you let yourself breathe.
“You okay?” The voice startles you, and you turn to see Josh standing there, hands in his pockets. “I’m fine,” you say quickly, brushing at your eyes. He frowns, stepping closer. “You sure? You looked kind of...I don’t know, off.” You force a laugh, crossing your arms. “I’m fine, Josh. Really.” For a moment, he just looks at you, his brow furrowed like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he says softly. The words hit harder than they should, and before you can stop yourself, you snap. “What do you want me to say, Josh? That I didn’t love watching you kiss Sam? That it didn’t suck seeing you two all cozy earlier?” His eyes widen, caught off guard, and for a second, you regret everything. But then his expression shifts—something softer, something almost...guilty.
“I didn’t...” He trails off, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t trying to...” You shake your head, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. “Forget it. It’s not your fault.” Josh hesitates, like he’s weighing his next words carefully. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
You glance at him, your heart aching at the look in his eyes—conflicted, searching. “I know,” you say quietly. “It’s fine. Really.” But it’s not fine. And as you turn back toward the cabin, leaving Josh standing by the lake, you can’t help but wonder if this summer is going to break you before it’s over.
The sun hung low in the sky, painting the cabin in hues of orange and gold. The group was scattered—Jess and Emily were bickering over sunscreen, Chris and Ashley were curled up on the deck talking in low tones, and Sam was by the lake with Hannah, skipping stones. It was all too perfect, too idyllic, except for the hollow ache in your chest.
Josh had been avoiding you all day.
It wasn’t like he was being obvious about it—Josh had a knack for slipping into conversations, filling the room with his sharp wit and charm like nothing was wrong. But you felt it. In the way his eyes would dart past you when you entered a room, the way his laugh seemed just a little louder when you weren’t around.
And maybe you were just as bad, lurking in the corners, pretending not to notice how often he touched Sam’s arm when they talked.
Written across your heart was all of your will to make him see—make him realize there was no in-between. There was either you and him, or the hollow echo of “I’m so sorry for your loss.” And wasn’t that what it felt like already? Like mourning something that never got the chance to live?
But it was his fault, wasn’t it?
For making you want him so much that your heart bled angel tears. For teaching your lips to sing sweet once-upon-a-times about a boy who was all sharp edges and hidden softness, who didn’t realize how much space he took up in your world.
By late afternoon, you found yourself back at the lake. It had become your refuge, the only place where you could breathe without the weight of Josh’s absence pressing against your ribs. Your toes skimmed the water’s edge, the cool ripples kissing your skin. You weren’t thinking about anything in particular—just the endless horizon, the way the light danced on the surface of the lake. But then a voice broke through your thoughts.
“You hiding out here now?” You didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. Again.
“Maybe I am,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. Josh sighed, stepping closer. You could feel the heat of him at your back, the way his presence wrapped around you even when you didn’t want it to. “Look,” he said finally, his voice softer. “About the other night...” You turned to face him, cutting him off. “It’s fine, Josh. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“Yes, I do.” His eyes—those endless green eyes—searched yours, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “No, you don’t,” you said, forcing a smile. “We’re friends. That’s all we’ve ever been, right?”
Josh flinched, like the word “friends” was a physical blow. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said quietly. For a moment, you believed. But then you shook your head, stepping away. “You didn’t, Josh,” you said. “I’m fine.”
That night, the group decided to make a bonfire by the lake. The air was thick with laughter, the sharp scent of burning wood mingling with the sweetness of roasted marshmallows.
You sat with Hannah and Beth, listening as Chris tried to tell a ghost story that kept getting interrupted by Jess’s sarcastic commentary. Josh was across the fire, sitting next to Sam. He wasn’t touching her, wasn’t even looking at her, but it didn’t matter.
Your hair cascaded like Niagara under the firelight, your lips so soft—even if he had never felt them under his. Josh couldn’t stop looking at you. Your eyes glowed like an eternity, and your voice—when you laughed at something - it was the only antidote he’d ever had for all those sleepless nights.
He didn’t know how to fix this.
Didn’t know how to reach across the chasm that had opened between you since that stupid game of Spin the Bottle. And maybe it was selfish—maybe it was cruel—but he wanted you to look at him the way you used to. Like he was something worth believing in.
The fire burned low as the group began to drift off, one by one. Eventually, it was just you and Josh, the silence between you heavy and unspoken. “Shouldn’t you be with Sam?” you asked, your tone biting. Josh frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” you said quickly, standing. “I’m going to bed.” But before you could leave, his hand shot out, catching your wrist. “Wait,” he said, his voice urgent. You froze, refusing to look at him. “Can we just—” He hesitated, his grip loosening. “Can we talk?” You pulled away, your chest tightening. “Not tonight, Josh.” He didn’t stop you this time, and as you walked back to the cabin, you felt the weight of his gaze on your back.
Neither of you slept that night.
The stars were muted behind a veil of clouds, the air heavy with the promise of rain. The cabin was quieter now. Days of forced smiles and lingering silences had worn you thin, and tonight, you found yourself outside again, pacing the gravel path that led to the lake.
You didn’t mean to cry.
It started as an ache in your chest, spreading to your throat until the tears came unbidden, hot, and relentless. You wiped at them furiously, hating the way they betrayed you, but the anger only made it worse.
How could he be so blind?
You heard footsteps behind you, familiar and deliberate. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Josh. “Go away,” you said, your voice raw.
He didn’t.
“Hey,” he said softly, his tone careful, like he was afraid you’d shatter if he spoke too loud. “What’s wrong?” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the stillness. “You really have to ask?” Josh shifted, running a hand through his hair. “Look, if this is about—”
“It’s not about Sam!” you snapped, whirling to face him. “It’s about you, Josh. It’s always about you.” His brows furrowed, confusion flickering in his green eyes. “What are you talking about?” You threw your hands up, frustration spilling over. “Do you know what it’s like? To feel like you’re screaming into the void, hoping, praying, that someone will hear you? To love someone so much that it hurts, only for them to act like you don’t even exist?” Josh’s expression shifted, the confusion replaced by something deeper, something raw.
“I—”
“You don’t get it,” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “You never have. And maybe that’s my fault. Maybe I should’ve said something years ago, but I didn’t, and now... now I can’t even look at you without feeling like I’m suffocating.” The tears came harder now, and you didn’t bother to stop them. Josh took a step closer, his jaw tight, but he didn’t speak. “Say something,” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Anything.”
He didn’t.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until you shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Of course,” you said, turning away. “Why did I even expect—” But before you could take another step, his hand caught your arm, spinning you back toward him.
And then he kissed you.
It wasn’t soft.
It was desperate, messy, like he was trying to say all the words he couldn’t find through the press of his lips. His hands cradled your face, grounding you even as the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet. For a moment, you froze, too stunned to move. But then your hands found his shirt, clutching the fabric like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I’m sorry I made you feel like this.” Your chest ached, the anger draining from your body as quickly as it had come. “Josh,” you started, but he cut you off, his green eyes locking onto yours. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I know I don’t. But you’re all I think about. You always have been.” The words broke something in you, and the tears came again, but this time, they weren’t born of anger or frustration. “Then why didn’t you say anything?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Because I’m a coward,” he admitted, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. “Because I’m an idiot who didn’t realize what he had until he almost lost it.” You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his hands still framing your face. “I can’t.” You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you did the only thing you could: you kissed him.
This time, it was softer, slower, filled with all the things you couldn’t put into words. And when you pulled back, his lips curved into a small, hesitant smile. “Does this mean you’ll stop avoiding me?” you asked, your voice shaking with a mix of laughter and tears. Josh chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You'll start wishing I would."
The first low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky as you and Josh lingered, the sound so faint at first that you barely noticed it. But then it came again, louder this time, accompanied by a flash of light on the horizon, pulling you both from your kiss. You glanced up at the clouds gathering above, your chest tightening. Josh followed your gaze, a grin tugging at his lips. “You afraid of a little rain?” Before you could respond, the heavens opened up. The rain came in a sudden, torrential downpour, drenching you both in seconds. You yelped, the cold droplets soaking through your clothes as Josh let out a startled laugh. “Come on!” he shouted over the sound of the rain, grabbing your hand.
He led you up the path, past the cabin and deeper into the woods where a small gazebo stood, tucked beneath a canopy of trees. The structure was simple but charming, with its whitewashed beams and ivy creeping up the sides. Inside was a weathered but cozy couch, draped with soft blankets that someone—Hannah, probably—had left there.
You stumbled under the shelter just as another crack of thunder split the sky. The sound was deafening, but you couldn’t help laughing as you leaned against one of the beams, rainwater dripping from your hair and clothes. Josh stood across from you, his hands on his hips, his shirt clinging to his chest in a way that made your heart race all over again. His hair was a mess, dark strands sticking to his forehead, and yet he looked unfairly good—smiling at you like this was the best night of his life.
“Well,” he said, shaking water from his hair, “so much for staying dry.” You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around yourself. “You think?” He stepped closer, his grin softening into something warmer. “Here.” He reached for one of the blankets on the couch, shaking it out before draping it over your shoulders. His fingers brushed your arms as he adjusted it, and you shivered, though it wasn’t from the rain. “Thanks,” you murmured, your voice quieter now.
Josh sat beside you on the couch, his arm resting along the back as he leaned into the cushions. The rain pattered against the roof of the gazebo, a rhythmic hum that filled the silence between you. “You know,” he said after a moment, his voice low, “I kind of like this.” You glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “Getting caught in a thunderstorm?”
“No,” he said, chuckling. “Being here. With you.” You looked away, focusing on the rain streaking down the gazebo’s wooden beams. “Josh...” “Hey,” he said, his voice softer now. You felt his hand brush against yours, tentative, like he was testing the waters. “Look at me.” You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. The rain softened the world around you, muting everything except the warmth in his gaze.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. It was just the two of you, sitting close on that old couch, the rain falling like a curtain around the gazebo. You could feel it, that familiar warmth creeping up within you, curling in your stomach every time Josh was near. Your heart thuds as his rough palm drags itself up your exposed thigh. Before you could stop yourself, the words rushed out of your mouth. “I’m a virgin!” Your face flushed a deep crimson as soon as the words left your lips, and you immediately covered your face with your hands in embarrassment.
Josh froze for a beat, his hand still resting on your thigh. You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t dare look up. And then, to your surprise, you heard him laugh softly, the sound low and warm. “Wait... really?” he asked, his voice filled with amusement but also something softer, something affectionate.
You peeked up at him, still hiding half of your face behind your hands, the flush on your cheeks deepening. “Yeah, really,” you mumbled, not sure whether you were embarrassed or relieved to finally say it out loud. Josh’s grin widened, and there was a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned a little closer. “I gotta admit, that’s a little... surprising.” He paused, his tone teasing but gentle. “But, hey, no rushing." Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of him being your first. You nodded, your eyes searching his face, still unsure whether to be embarrassed or... maybe a little proud?
His hand gently moved from your thigh to rest on your knee, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, reassuring circles. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said quietly, his voice soft. “I'm not trying anything unless you want to.” You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and found only kindness there— no teasing, no judgment, just understanding. And somehow, that made everything feel a little easier. "I do want to... you know.." The words won't come out. “Still,” you muttered, “it’s... kind of awkward, don’t you think?” Josh chuckled, that warm smile never leaving his face. “Don't think so” he said, his voice low and serious now, “if you’re gonna share something like that with anyone, I’m glad it could be me."
You nod, scooting closer to him, palms now flush on his chest. his eyes scan your every inch, and you try to look away, but he captures your lips into another kiss. his lips trail down to your neck with a low "can I?" And you hum, trying your best to stay quiet as you get used to the feeling.
in no time, you're under him, both entangled, half naked and out of breath. he finally pulls off your panties, tossing them to the floor as he spreads your cunt wide open with two of his fingers, and god, you looked so erotic, all shying away as he loomed over, fingers playing with your pussy. "You ever touched yourself like this before?" You nod, bottom lip captive between your teeth. "J-just a little..." Oh, god. "You're so beautiful, fuckㅡ" And he's already losing his mind. Nights of fantasizing couldn’t have prepared him for this.
placing his palm behind your knee, he lifts up your legs, laying light pecks onto the plush of your thighs, thumb now tracing down to your puffy clit. Josh starts slowly, swirling his finger and still kissing your soft flesh. "Thank you for letting me do this." tracing the entrace with his index, he pushes his finger slow and deep inside, and you arch against him. this was it. he was where all of his dreams led him to. you looked like something straight out of a 80's porno. cunningly, josh moved his finger, and before you knew it he added another one. you squeezed perfectly around his digits, the sounds you and your pussy made driving him to the brink. "You hear that?" he asks, curling up his fingers, the wet sounds amplifying. "don't think I've ever had a pussy this wet before..." you whimper ans wrigle under his hold. "Josh.."
"What? It's the truth." he chuckles, speed picking up, his other hand now flush to your lower belly. "Want you to come. Can you do that for me?" he looks up, doe eyes searching for yours, and you can already feel your body convulsing. it didn't take long for you to finally give in and gift him what he asked for, coming just from his fingers. the way you thighs squeezed together, trapping his hand between them, soft pleads dripping from your lips like honeyㅡ he was done for. you were embarrassed, to say the least, hiding your face into his shirt he had taken off long ago. "Stop that, heyㅡ look at me, baby." Baby. did you just come again? "You did great. so good." he leans in over you, pressing a soft kiss on the bridge of your nose. "Do you wanna keep going?" and you say the most eager 'yes' known to man. "i got you." he smiles, eyes tracing every curve of your body. he takes off his pants along with hus briefs, letting his shaft spring free, small pearls of precum already gathered at the tip.
your eyes opened. what the fuck? is that normal? you knew your first would hurt, but seeing what Josh had going on for him you knew it would be the most painful experience for you yet. "Don't worry. I'll go slow." he stumbles a bit back, grabbing a hold of his trousers, palming his pockets before he mutters a soft 'there we go.' and takes out a shiny wrapperㅡ a condom. the opens it and carefully takes it out, lining it with the tip of his aching cock. "If you ever wanna stopㅡ" he start, whilst rolling the condom down his length. "Tell me. Yeah?" you nod.
taking his length into his fist, Josh pumps it a few times before he aligns it with your entrance that trickled with juices. he lets it slip in, and your eyes close as tears threaten to fall. you claw at his back, but Josh kisses you as he slides in some more, your walla wrapping perfectly around himㅡ just like it was meant to be. "It's okay, you're okay, baby."
after going in the last couple of inches, he starts to move, gently holding down onto your waist as he lets you adjust. "Doing so food for me."
just a few strokes after he feels you wrapping your legs around his hips, urging him deeper. "Please.." You plead, the sweetest sounds escaping your plump and swollen lips, and he swears he could come just by that. "Fuck, yeah, okayㅡ" he groans, with the way your teary eyes stared up at him. He starts to move his hips, harder, deeper, each sound you made an encouragement. His palms make his way under your back, pulling you up, almost to sit on his lap. He fucks up into you, your arms lazily draped over his flexed shoulders whilst his lips kiss soft blooms onto your chest. you clench around him. "J-Josh..." he shakes his head, laughing as his fingers dig deep into your flesh where you know bruises will appear later. "Don'tㅡ ha, I'm gonna come if you keep doing that." whines slip past your lips as his speed picks up. "Shit, shitㅡ" he pulls you closer, lips now stuck to your neck like a locket. "Y-you gonna come?" he prys. "Mhm.." you squeal as your eyes roll back. "Go ahead, for me." that's all it took. you come once again, nimbly wrapping around josh like a vine, walls squeezing him so tight. your mind goes blank, only soft moans gripping your throat as Josh pumps into you, finally releasing inside of the condom with a few thrusts.
you both breathe heavily, hearts beating in a sing-song, as you come down from your high. realization sets in as you meet each other's gaze. it was real. it really just happened.
"You okay?" he leans in, pressing a lazy kiss onto your lips. "Yeah... How okay can one be after having sex for the first time..?" and he laughs, playing with the strands of your hair. "Thank god for the rain covering the sound. You were super loud just thenㅡ"
"Josh!"
#josh washington#josh washington smut#josh washington x reader#josh washington x you#joshua washington#until dawn#until dawn fanfics#rami malek#rami malek x reader
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hi!!! i love your works<3
could you maybe write vessel x reader first date?
A sappy first date with the big guy. He’s a bit nervous. But so are you.
Vessel x GN reader.
Under the cut ~ <3
It’s a nice place. It’s quiet, the lights are dim, the booths are made in such a way that it’s like you’re on a whole other planet when you sit in them. Which normally, would be phenomenal. Having such a level of privacy while enjoying your dinner, it’s perfect. But this time it feels like a curse. Like the world is working against you. Because sat across from you is Vessel. He’s in a freshly ironed button up, a dark blue that looks almost black under these lights. His hair is combed back out of his face and he looks at you like you hung the stars. It’s awful.
It’s your first date.
And he’s doing absolutely everything right.
The problem is, every time your eyes meet you’ve half a mind to tell him you love him.
You’ve known each other a while, and he’s always had that effect. But here, on your first date, when the tension between you two is burning up the room and the feelings you kept hidden for so long are pretty much sitting on the table in front of him? Yeah long story short you’re both clearly nervous as all hell and neither of you know how to approach it. Telling him you love him in a panic attempt at easing into the night probably isn’t the way to go. But this date is just so different and it feels so real, your panic stems from more than just wanting to break the ice, it’s coming from the little voice in your head that’s telling you if this date goes the way you want it to… he’s it for you.
You can only hope to the god he spends so much time worshiping that he feels somewhat the same way.
You like Vessel.
You want him to like you back.
“Look, uh… we don’t have to do this. I’d never want to push you.”
His voice, which you’re sure is proof of heaven alone, snaps you right out of your panic. Then, gives you even worse panic.
“Huh? Why?”
There’s obvious worry in your tone, you know it. He picks up on it, because of course he does.
“I just worry you’re not really present. I’d hate for this to be something you’re just trying to get through, sometimes two people just aren’t supposed to go there… you know?”
His eyes are cast down. He doesn’t want to watch you agree with him. He can’t do it. He can’t make himself watch you sigh in relief. He can’t make himself watch you realise this was indeed a mistake. He can’t make himself smile at you as you tell him you’re sorry but he’s right.
“Oh god… Vessel I’m so sorry.”
Hm. If you listen close enough… you might just be able to hear the sound of his heart shattering in his chest over the clinking of the cutlery throughout the restaurant.
“No, please it’s okay. It happens. You’re still my-“
“It’s just been a long time since I’ve been this excited about a date, got a bit lost in my own head there for a moment. I’m sorry. I’m here I promise.”
Oh fucking Christ thank Sleep one hundred times to the moon and back again. His heart thumps wildly against his ribcage, he’s almost positive you can hear it. And he doesn’t even attempt to hide the sigh of relief that escapes him and the happy smile that graces his lips.
“That is… yeah that’s a relief. I won’t lie to you.”
He huffs a nervous laugh as he fiddles with the tablecloth hanging over the side of the table between you.
“I mean, there wouldn’t have been any hard feelings of course… but I’m really happy you still want to be here.”
You’re silent for a moment while you decide whether or not what you’re about to do is a bad idea or not. But you want to show him you’re serious about this date, you want him to see you enjoying his presence. You need to snap yourself out of it and make some moves.
So you get up.
His head snaps up and he watches you slide out of the booth with a look of complete dread. He straightens up. His hands fall to his sides and his face turns beet red. His jaw opens and closes as he tries to force words out but no sounds escape him. That is until you round the table and slide in next to him.
You offer him a little smile as your side presses against his. Your knees bump together under the table and your hands brush as you situate yourself. He uses his other hand to press his face into it. His voice muffled slightly as he groans quietly into it.
“Fucking Christ… you’re going to send me into an early grave.”
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. You purposely bump his knees with your own this time, trying to lighten the mood a little.
“I’m sorry… did I scare you?”
“Yes. Yes you did. I thought I’d ruined it all.”
He laughs a little, and he looks down at where you’re pressed up against him. His cheeks are flushed but he looks happy. His eyes sparkle and when he grins down at you, all his teeth are on full display. It’s the kind of smile that would make your cheeks hurt a little bit. The kind that’s a bit awkward and feels too big for your face.
It suits him.
“I’m sorry, Vess. I really like you, I was worried about it not working and kind of got too deep into worrying about it.”
He blinks down at you, it’s a slow blink, his cheeks are still tinted red from your close proximity and you swear for one moment it looks like he’s got hearts in his eyes.
“Don’t panic, love. It’s definitely working.”
His voice is low, it changes the mood almost immediately and all of a sudden it’s too warm in this booth. Who’s idea was it to cozy up to him like this. It feels like you’re suffocating again, he’s so overwhelming when all he’s doing is speaking to you.
He was right before, the tablecloth that hangs over the side of the table really is that interesting. You can’t stop yourself from fiddling with it, you’re starting to feel awkward again. You hear him force a deep breath into his lungs above you before his very large very beautiful hand encompasses your much smaller one, and intertwines his fingers between yours. There’s a slight tremble, you can feel it when you squeeze his hand tight enough. You’re positive doing that made it worse but it’s so endearing that you can’t even feel guilty.
Everything about Vessel is so endearing.
“Thank you for saying yes to me.”
If you weren’t sitting so close you probably wouldn’t have heard him. He gazes down at you, eyes so full of hope. It makes your throat close up and need prickle through your chest.
“Of course, Vess. You thought I would have said no to you?”
“No. I didn’t think you would…”
Cheeky fucker.
“… but I’m just so happy you said yes. I’m excited to be here, like this, with you. I’m sure it’s obvious.”
You lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek, this causes a chain reaction, starting with his furiously blushing cheeks (yet again), then he smiles so wide he has to look at the ceiling just to calm himself down, his breathing picks up and his hand squeezes yours where he’s holding it in his lap. He looks back down at you with a smile that says a lot. It’s a wobbly smile, his chin wrinkles up and his eyes squint a little. It screams hope. Like most of his body language does tonight. But this smile is the epitome of ‘I know you know exactly how I feel about you and I know you feel the same way.’
Nerves and excitement crackle in the air between you.
“I’m excited too. For tonight. And for our next date. And the ones after that. I’m sure that’s obvious.”
He nods at you, his wobbly smile grows. Somehow, you didn’t think it could get any bigger but it does. He’s gotta cast his eyes down, he looks at your intertwined hands and nods again, at them… to himself… to you? You’re not sure, but he’s sure of whatever he’s nodding about. And that feels good.
.
.
.
<3 <3 <3
Thank you for reading.
#hehehehehee nervous first date with vessel#he’s so sweet on you#wants it to work so bad#sleep token#sleep token fanfiction#sleep token x reader#vessel#sleep token vessel#vessel sleep token#vessel x reader#vessel sleep token x reader#sleep token vessel x reader#wine spilt#marys musings
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i understand marauders fans have moved away from thinking or at least joking that taylor swift is mskingbean89 but why is no one talking about how much moon & stars stuff shes wearing 😔💔
guys come back😔💔
a whole bodysuit for moon and stars 😔💔 and not a peep im hearing???
marauders fandom be fun and stupid again😔💔😔💔😔💔
#marauders#remus lupin#sirius black#the marauders#wolfstar#marauders fandom#taylor swift#taylornation
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Ocean's Haunted
Read on AO3
-
First off, the ocean's haunted.
That's very important.
Once upon a time when Cesar was still on land, his mother told him all about the spirits that lived on the water. There are the ghosts, of course, and their ships that sail under the full moon. Sea monsters that live in the deepest parts of the ocean and drag sailors to their dooms. Sirens that take on the appearance of one's deepest desires.
What Cesar's mother failed to mention were the goddamn sea zombies.
Sea zombies like the ones currently trying to eat Cesar's face: lean and filled with holes like a sponge, leaking water from every orifice, hair the color and appearance of decayed seaweed. And, of course, smelling of dead fish.
Being alone on his back in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean miles away from land and armed with only a pistol (one bullet left) and a bottle of rum (unopened), Cesar briefly thinks that this is how he's going to die: alone.
The sea zombie gurgles and spits up a mouthful of brackish brown water onto Cesar's shoes. Its teeth graze the back of his calf, tearing his pants' leg to shreds.
Cesar kicks the fucker and skitters back in his boat until his back is against the bow. His hand scrambles for his pistol, finds it.
He raises it with both hands. He doesn't have the time to aim, but at at least his hands don't shake as he fires his last and final bullet into the sea zombie's icky oozing skull.
The sea zombie collapses into a puddle of sea foam with a scream. Its teeth, somehow, are left behind. As are its remaining clothes, including a large, audaciously-colored tricorn hat.
Cesar stares at the foam.
"What the fuck?" he asks it.
The foam, predictably, doesn't answer.
Slowly, Cesar sits up. He puts his gun down in his lap and adjusts the remains of his pants. He looks longingly at the bottle of rum. He internally curses his mother for not knowing about goddamn sea zombies. He externally curses his "father" for his very existence, just because he can.
The sun starts to set over the horizon, and Cesar settles back at the boat's oars. He presses a hand gently to his stomach, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he doesn't start bleeding again.
With a sigh, he cracks his neck, and he picks up the oars in each hand, and he starts rowing again.
-
Pirates.
Ever since he was a child, Cesar has hated pirates. Not because of their whole rob-and-kill-and-steal thing, but because he's only met one pirate in his life, and his life has been ruined ever since.
It's a personal thing. Some people hate pão de queijo. Others hate the winter months. Cesar hates his no-good father, and he hates pirates.
But when a ship that looks about as textbook a pirate ship can be pulls up next to Cesar's rowboat, Cesar feels a rush of relief.
A head pops over the side of the ship, feet above Cesar's head.
"Hello!" the head calls- black hair, and a smile obvious even in the night.
Cesar raises a hand in greeting. "Hey."
"Do you need some help?"
Cesar moves to answer with a, "Nah, I'm good," but, suddenly, the head is yanked out of sight by a pale hand.
"What are you thinking?" a new voice- female?- hisses. "We don't know this guy?"
"Aw, look at him, though! He'll die without our help!" the head argues.
Cesar puts his oars down for the moment.
And then he picks up his still-unopened bottle of rum and holds it in the air like it's a trophy.
"I have rum!" he calls.
Immediately, a woman's head and shoulders appear where the last head was. She looks almost as much a corpse as the sea zombie Cesar just killed, but beggars can't be choosers.
"Why didn't you say so?" she asks, warmth dripping off her voice like slime mold. Her head turns to the side. "Joui, get the ladder."
And that's when a third voice appears and sighs, "Come on, are you just going to let any old wretch onto the ship because they have rum? They could be a siren."
"I'm not a siren," Cesar helpfully says.
A new head, the third voice's, presumably, appears next to the woman's. This man, Cesar notices, is balding.
R-I-P.
"Prove it," the balding man says.
The first head appears on the woman's other side, pouting.
"Would a siren do this?" Cesar asks. He raises his empty pistol to his temple and puts his finger on the trigger.
Alarmed, the first head reaches out as if that'll do anything.
The other two people are not amused.
Sighing, Cesar lowers his gun and flatly says, "And I can play the accordion."
The balding man grins and claps his hands together. "Joui, get the ladder!"
Head number one salutes and ducks out of sight once more. (That'll be 'Joui' then...)
The woman looks at the balding man with a frown. "So me wanting rum is suicidal, but you wanting sea shanties isn't?"
The man shrugs. "What can I say, my dear? We're pirates. We need a sea shantier."
Cesar isn't sure if that's an actual word or job description, but he doesn't quite feel like arguing with the pirates currently saving his life.
One rope ladder climb later, Cesar finds himself tied to the ship's mast with his rum being drank straight from the bottle by the woman.
All three of the pirates are gathered around him, each one with weapons very clearly visible on their persons.
Cesar squirms slightly. "You couldn't have at least let me sit down before tying me up?"
"Nah," says the woman, bottle to her lips.
Well.
Pirates.
Cesar looks around. It's an empty ship, no crew members in sight besides the three in front of him. The sails are down, and the anchor's chain is leading off the side of the ship. The deck is a mess, and the rigging is knotted just so incorrectly that it's making Cesar's teeth hurt.
The balding man steps forward, his hand resting on the end of his sword on his belt.
"What crew do you work for, then?" he asks, fake smile and even faker gold teeth.
"None," Cesar truthfully replies. "I'm out here on my own?"
Presumably-Joui furrows his brow in confusion. "In a rowboat?"
Cesar shrugs. "It was all I could afford."
That, though, is a lie. His mother left him one hell of a fortune when she passed, and all that money is currently siting in a bank back home waiting for his return. (He'll never actually return, but the money doesn't need to know that.)
But, well, it's a bunch of pirates. They don't need to know the truth.
(Mostly because the truth, of course, is too strange for anyone, even a pirate, to believe.)
Silence. Physical silence so heavy that it weighs Cesar's shoulders down. It sits in the pit of his stomach and tugs on his tongue, begging him to talk.
The woman leans over to whisper to the balding man. His face crinkles, and he whispers back with his hand cupped over her ear.
Cesar chooses to lock eyes with Maybe-Joui.
He looks... nice? He smiles when Cesar makes eye contact, though he stays a fair distance away from the mast, a full step or so behind the other two pirates.
A literal second of eye contact is all Cesar can take, though; he shivers and swallows the lump in his throat and looks up at the sky, instead.
Stars.
And the moon.
Bald and Woman's whispering gets louder as they start to argue.
"We are not telling him!" Bald hisses. "Are you crazy?"
Woman rolls her eyes. "What else are we supposed to do? He is literally ten feet below us right now!"
"Yeah, and he probably heard us bringing him up," Maybe-Joui adds.
Both Bald and Woman snap their heads towards Maybe-Joui with narrowed eyes.
"This is a private conversation!" Woman huffs.
"Cover your ears," Bald tells him.
Maybe-Joui's face falls, but he nods and puts his hands over his ears, though not without mumbling, "Maybe don't speak so loudly next time..."
He even closes his eyes for good measure. How polite.
But Cesar, facing him, can see that the way his hands are placed leaves plenty of room for sound to sneak in.
Cesar bites back a smile; he can always appreciate a good fofoqueiro.
"What about me?" he asks. "Do I need to cover my ears, too?"
Woman and Bald both ignore him. Assholes.
Sighing, Cesar tips his head back until it's resting against the mast.
At least they aren't sea zombies, he tells himself.
"We could use the extra help..." Bald muses.
Suddenly, there's the sound of a hand striking cloth, and an offended, "Hey!"
"Are you crazy?!" Woman argues. "He might be an occultist!"
"Look at him, he's, like, twelve. How many occultists do we know that are children?"
Okay, what?
"I'm 29," Cesar sighs.
He tilts his head down to give the pirates a tired look.
They both look at him with varying levels of confusion on their faces.
"Maybe he is an occultist," Bald admits.
"Maybe we should get Cris," Woman adds.
A shudder goes down Cesar's spine at that.
A cloud passes over the moon.
Foreboding.
Maybe-Joui's eyes snap open, and he drops his hands back to his sides.
"Oh, are we getting Cris?" he asks. "I can get him."
Cesar barely manages to hold back a wince.
A cold wind blows across the ship's deck.
Foreboding.
Cesar flexes his arms against the ropes tying to him to the mast. He isn't that strong, but maybe...
Oh, who is he kidding? There's no way that he's on this ship. What would be the odds of that?
The ship creaks.
And then Cesar hears them: footsteps. From below, wooden planks groaning in protest of the weight on them; a door opening.
Panic rises in Cesar's throat. It's bitter and horrible and familiar in the same way as an old blanket and, suddenly, he has a bad feeling.
"Throw me overboard," he hoarsely says, looking right at Maybe-Joui because he, at least, seems normal.
Maybe-Joui's eyes widen. "What? No!"
Woman claps her hands together. "Well, you heard him, boys. Let's throw him overboard."
Cesar strains against the ropes. His ears ring. The moon is looking at him, judging. The pirates are looking at him, judging. His chest hurts. His arms hurt. Is he bleeding again? His shirt feels wet. Damnit.
Bald holds up a hand. "Now, hold on, look at him. Something's wrong."
Of course something is wrong, something is always wrong!
Woman puts the bottle of rum down on the deck. She crosses her arms, a frown appearing on her face.
"Hmph," she brilliantly says.
Maybe-Joui perks up slightly. "Guys, I hear someone moving downstairs."
Woman and Bald tense. They look at each other, having a silent conversation that Cesar, frankly, could care less about.
"Cris," they say in unison.
Bald turns to look at Cesar, and something weird lights up in his eyes.
He smiles, slightly, and he takes a full step back away from the mast, stretching his arms above his head.
"Liz, darling, take a good look at our guest," he calmly says.
Foreboding.
Cesar flinches as a door slams open on the other side of the deck.
Woman's eyes widen. "Oh. I see."
"I don't," Maybe-Joui says.
"What are we seeing?" a fourth voice- utterly grating and horrible and terrible and shitty and bad and disgusting- calls, a yawn and a smile in his voice.
Panic falls way to anger, which falls to hatred, which falls to nothing.
Cesar goes limp, falling back against the mast and looking down at the deck. He's. Tired.
"Who's this?" he hears.
"We have a guest," Bald hums. "Joui fished him out of the ocean. He hasn't given us a name yet, but... maybe you can help with that?"
The deck creaks with every heavy footstep.
Once, Cesar's mother told him about his "father": a tall, handsome man with a big hat and wide shoulders. He was a sailor, she said, and he always came home from his voyages with gold and silver and the finest jewelry Cesar's mother had ever seen.
A few weeks after Cesar was born, Cesar's father left for another trip. He left a letter behind. He left his wife behind.
He left his son behind.
"He can play the accordion," Maybe-Joui helpfully says. "I think we should keep him."
"I'm not an animal," Cesar grumbles.
He looks firmly at his boots even as the hulking figure of the fourth pirate comes to stand in front of him.
"Well?" Woman asks.
"Why is he tied up?" the pirate asks, sounding almost upset. "Hold on..."
Hands start tugging at the ropes.
And then they suddenly stop.
"Wait a minute..." the pirate murmurs.
"Oh, this will be good," Woman quietly says to her friends.
"Look at me," the pirate gently orders, voice cracking as his two hands settle on either side of Cesar's face.
Cesar sneers and tries to shrug off the pirate's touch. "Go fuck yourself, old man."
The pirate gasps, "It is him!"
And then Cesar is being pinned to the mast as the pirate hugs him, wrapping his beefy arms around both Cesar and the mast and Cesar can't breathe for so many reasons-
"Cesar!" the pirate weeps, tears in his voice and running down his face and dampening Cesar's hair. "My boy!"
Cesar tries to become one with the mast. Why didn't they throw him overboard?
"Cristopher," he stiffly replies. "I can't breathe."
The pirate backs up immediately, though his hands remain on Cesar's shoulders.
For the first time in years, Cesar looks his father in the face, and he feels nothing.
The pirate is crying. Cristopher is crying, the overemotional old man. He's gained a massive scar on his face since Cesar last saw him, and his hair has gone fully white. He's in his pajamas already even though it's barely past sunset.
"Girl!" he shouts over his shoulder. "Untie my son!"
Maybe-Joui winces. "Um, Mr. Cris, I'm not sure-"
"Gladly," Woman smirks.
She approaches, winks as she passes Cesar and steps behind the mast.
Cesar desperately tries to avoid Cristopher's gaze as he's being untied.
Maybe the sea zombies aren't too bad...
The ropes drop.
Cesar immediately makes a break for it, shoving past Cristopher and the balding man and running for the edge of the ship.
"Son!" Cristopher cries.
Cesar manages to get one leg over the ship's railing before two strong arms are wrapped around his chest and pulling him away from the edge.
"Don't be stupid," Maybe-Joui snaps, stumbling backwards with Cesar and expertly dodging the fists being thrown his way.
"Who's stupid!?" Cesar exclaims. He throws an arm out and points at a pained-looking Cristopher. "That guy's insane! I'd rather take my chances with the sea zombies!"
"'Insane'?" Cristopher repeats, face falling. "Cesar..."
Cesar glowers. "Don't."
He does stop fighting, though... mostly because he can see Bald and Woman snickering together near the mast.
Maybe-Joui drags him just a little bit further before dumping him on the deck. He crouches next to Cesar, head cocked slightly, a weird expression on his face. It's halfway a smile, halfway a frown, halfway a confused hmmmm? of a look.
And then he holds up a hand, one that was pressed against Cesar's stomach during the brief struggle. Even in the moonlight, it's clear to see how it's painted red.
He looks up and towards Woman.
"Liz-senpai?" he calls. "Is your office cleaned up yet?"
Cesar looks down at his stomach and groans, flopping fully onto the deck in defeat.
"What?" Woman asks. "Why... oh. Huh. Shit, okay. Help our new friend down, would you?"
Cesar doesn't so much as spare a glance in Cristopher's direction as Maybe-Joui and Bald each take a side and help him to his feet.
"What happened?" Cristopher demands. "Cesar, what happened?"
What else could it have been? Out of every monster Cesar's mother told him about, one came up time and time again in her stories as the worst of them all:
Pirates.
--
A/N: Hi! If you liked this, please let me know! I'm super nervous about writing for a different fandom, so any comments or reblogs or anything would be SUPER appreciated!
#a.d.'s fics i suppose#a.d.'s fics i suppose.#ocean's haunted au#that's right it's an au#because i love it#everybody say thank you to pix#this wouldn't have happened w/o them
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@zepskies
I'm not kidding this might be my favorite gif ever lol. BUT I am so excited to read the last chapter of this series!! I mean, I'm sad that it's coming to a close, but I'm hoping that in the future there might be a fic with a little Elijah (or a little Jude) running around. 😏
I love the little details about him and Benny pranking each other, but it really just made me sad because Dean left them 😭 But at the same time they are opening up with one another and sharing their life stories and I couldn't be happier.
“I will protect you,” she says. Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.
Again I stan a strong woman and Mila is just so stinking badass that I love her so much. Also yes girl, PROTECT 👏🏻 YOUR👏🏻 MAN👏🏻
But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be. He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.
Love that you're referencing the honorable choice title here, and showing that Dean is a man of honor and that he did make a choice that maybe messed up his life, but he cared more about doing the right thing. And I think you did a great job of titling the series and the chapters in general. Each one corresponds beautifully to the themes in the chapters so you should be proud!
It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.
I know that something dramatic is about to happen and that I shouldn't be thinking about this right now, but I just love height difference so much😭. When a guy is bigger than his girl oh wow it sends me to the moon. I think it's so cute and goodness the cuddles must be so fun.
“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.
Again, devastating moment, but... SHE SAID HIS NAME FOR THE FIRST TIME! And the running her fingers through his hair?!?!?!?!
Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble.
“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly. Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown. “Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says. Her brows raise. “No?” “Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man."
I'm cackling. I love Mila so much. The sass, the teasing. Oh goodness they're so cute and I am so scared that there's going to be a last minute perilous situation and somebody is gonna die.
“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.
Excuse me sir? SIR?! You know... he's right Mila. You should listen to your future husband.
Also him respecting her when she said that she doesn't have sex before marriage is just so HONORABLE AND WORTHY and why can't there be men that respectful all the time? Dean Winchester is really just ruining other men for me everywhere. 😭
She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize… Her heart has already chosen.
Girl it's chosen correctly. No remorse. No regret. Please oh my word let them both live at the end of this fic. 🙏🏻
He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.
So... the face squishing is a family trait I see. But man, Dean standing there while a random lady just squishing his face while his eyes are wide in horror is so funny to me.
“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”
AWW YEAH IT WAS GOING THAT WAY! lol
“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?” Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others. It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life. “No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”
This bit is so good. It's so true and honest and a little heart breaking, but it's such a wonderful thing for them to talk about, because Mila knows that he's thrown away his life to save hers. And it's so wonderful that he's able to give her that confirmation and reassurance that he doesn't regret the choice he made. Because it was the right choice, the -AHEM- Honorable Choice lol 😂
“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection. “All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.”
Oh this chapter was so good my sweet friend! I'm a little sad to see that it's ending, but it was so wonderfully written and neither of them died. I was really scared about that 😅. AND it ended with a wedding (sort of?). Now little Elijah can run around the camp helping his mother and learn how to break in horses with his father. ❤️
The Honorable Choice - Part 3
Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC
Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.
AN: The last chapter! Hold on, it's about to get bumpy...
Disclaimer: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.
**Pronunciation guide at the end!
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU
Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack
Word Count: 5.7K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, smut (mutual masturbation, fingering, and more), angst, and fluff.
🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!
Part 3: Worthy
They travel together for two more days. Dean isn’t really a talkative man, but inevitably, he finds himself speaking to fill the comfortable stretches of quiet plodding across the grasslands.
He tells her about growing up on his family’s farm, where his father was firm but fair, and a larger-than-life presence when Sam and Dean were kids. His mother though, she was the only one who could ever go toe to toe with John Winchester and win.
“She tamed him,” Mila remarks with a smile. Dean’s lips quirk in response.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he chuckles, “but he knew he couldn’t pull a whole lot of shit with Mom. She’s a real pistol when she’s gotta be.”
Talking about them makes his heart heavy and sobers his mood, so he deflects with other stories, other chapters of his life.
He talks about going through basic training alongside Benny Lafitte. As privates, Dean pranked his friend by filling his lumpy old pillow with raw eggs and chicken feathers. In retaliation, Benny swapped Dean’s morning coffee with actual dirt and hot water. Their boyish games escalated until they were nearly kicked out of the military.
Dean managed to smooth things over though. He’s always had a way of charming people, even the gruff Sergeant Major, Bobby Singer.
Mila admits that she and her cousin Šóta used to sneak out of the village when they were younger. He taught her how to climb trees, how to fight and protect herself, and how to ride a horse astride, like a man. He was the only one who ever encouraged her to have the “free mind” her mother dreamed about.
The more she confides in him, her eyes sparking with life and her hands gesticulating along with her words, the more Dean listens.
On the third day, it’s nearing mid-afternoon when Dean slows Baby to a stop. After miles and miles of forest and grassland covered, they’ve finally approached a large, wide river. Mila stops beside him.
“My tribe lives beyond the river,” she says, “but the current is strong now.”
Dean looks over at her. A question he hasn’t wanted to ask crops back up. He feels that now is the time to voice it.
“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”
Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.
“I will protect you,” she says.
Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.
She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.
“Mila…”
“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”
Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.
He’s still not convinced, but at this point, he really doesn’t have many options. It’s either take his chances with her tribe, or become a vagabond. He’s not sure how long he could survive in wilds of the West alone, especially while trying to dodge military patrols.
In the past three days, it’s taken Dean all that time to come to terms with a simple fact. He’ll likely never see his brother again, or his mother. It’s a pain that cuts into him deeply, down to his bones. It stings behind his eyes.
But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be.
He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.
With that decision made, Dean expels a long, somewhat faltering breath. He locks away the rest of his uncertainty, his apprehension, and even his grief. He hides deep inside, where she won’t see it.
“All right, the current doesn’t look too bad over here,” he says, pointing to farther north along the river. “The horses can make it.”
Mila nods in agreement. She still looks uneasy, though she tries to hide it too. She ventures ahead into the river. Dean follows close behind.
The water is shallow at first, but it all too quickly gets deeper. The horses plod over the river stones and vegetation under the surface, and the humans are led deeper, until they’re submerged into the water up to their waists.
It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.
That’s why he’s able to act fast when Mato slips, dunking Mila under the water. She gasps and tries to cling onto him, but the current is fierce. It pushes Mato down the river no matter how much he scrambles and kicks at the water, braying wildly in distress.
Shit! Dean tugs sharply at Baby’s reigns and strives to catch up to them. He grabs Mato’s reigns and pulls and pulls, until he and Baby are able to drag him to the other side of the river where he can get a foothold with his hooves.
Mila is starting to fall off his back. She struggles to cling on while the river pushes at her, with her wet hair falling in her eyes. Dean leans back as far as he can to try and pull her up.
“It’s okay, I’ve gotcha,” he calls out, even though his heart hammers with alarm.
She reaches out for his hand in turn. Just as his fingers begin to close over hers, a wave from the current crashes into her. A short scream tears from her throat after she loses her grip on Mato’s neck. Without her weight, he’s able to pull himself back up onto the bank along with Baby.
Damn it! Gut-wrenching alarm spears Dean into action. He leaps down from Baby and removes his gloves, his hat, and his uniform jacket, so he can dive into the water. Thank God he’s a strong swimmer.
Mila seems to be too. She carves through the water against the current the best she can and tries to keep her head above the waves, but Dean can see it’s a losing battle. He manages to grab hold of her arm, and then wraps an arm around her waist to keep her close. Both of them work together to try and cling to any passing rock or low-hanging vine as the current sweeps them out toward an ultimate end.
A waterfall.
Of course. Goddamn it. Dean doesn’t know how steep it is on the other side, and he doesn’t want to know. All he’s trying to do is keep himself and Mila above the water.
She hooks her hand around a sharp rock. It bites into her hand, making her cry out, but she clings to it for all she’s worth. She holds onto Dean just as tightly, even though the current wants to take him. She tries to pull him closer, close enough for him to get a hold on the rock as well.
This time, it’s Dean who loses his footing. The rocks slip beneath the soles of his feet when he attempts to gain some leverage.
A shout of surprise escapes from him when he fails, and it gets swallowed up by water rushing down his throat.
“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.
The river takes him over the edge of the abyss, and he falls.
He never expected that he would get to open his eyes again, let alone to the sight that greets him. Mila’s familiar face, framed by the dark, drying waves of her hair, is bright with firelight. It dances in orange-gold across her features. Her eyes are warm like rich molasses when she looks down and finds him awake.
She smiles in relief.
He realizes that he’s lying on soft grass with his head pillowed in her lap. She’s taken off his boots and half of his white undershirt; she tore one of his sleeves to wrap around a mercifully shallow gash in his shoulder.
The horses are drinking from the river nearby, with a pile of apples split between them. There’s a fish roasted over the fire, but all Dean cares about is the way her fingers are running through his hair. She sings a soft song under her breath while she passes her other hand over his injured arm without touching it.
He doesn’t understand the words, but he thinks she might be trying to heal him. He’s heard plenty of stories about the Sioux people, most he’s taken with a grain of salt. He does remember Cas saying that their healers are different from doctors.
Dean’s never given their hoodoo much thought, but right about now, he hopes it works.
“Mornin’,” he croaks.
Mila’s relieved face becomes touched with amusement.
“It’s night,” she says. “You slept for a long time.”
Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble.
“Thank you,” she says. Emotion is thick in her voice.
Dean meets her eyes again, and he smiles. He raises the back of his hand to touch her smooth cheek, gently. He lets his fingers glide across her tan skin, down the column of her neck. Her breath hitches.
She takes his calloused hand in her slender one. Her long hair falls like a curtain over her shoulder, almost like it’s shielding them from whatever is left to come for them beyond the forest. Dean wraps an ebony strand around his finger, just to feel it fall loosely again.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says.
Mila graces him with another smile from her lips. He wants to know what they taste like.
“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly.
Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown.
“Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says.
Her brows raise. “No?”
“Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man.”
“Toothsome. I don’t know this word,” she admits. “Am I supposed to eat you?”
Dean resists the urge to say the first incorrigible thing that pops into his head. Instead, his body shakes with laughter.
It’s difficult at first, all his muscles pulling at him in protest, but he raises himself into a sitting position. He cups Mila’s cheek, dragging his thumb across her lower lip. Her lashes are dark and long. They move when she looks up at him. He knows the look in her eyes, wanting, desiring, but also unsure of what she should allow him.
Dean leans in slowly, giving her time to decide.
She tilts her face up to his. He noses at her cheek, his eyes falling closed along with hers.
He finds her lips with his own on instinct and feeling alone. Soft and tender movements, testing, asking.
She answers him. Her fingers tangle in the front of his tattered shirt as her lips begin to move against his. Dean wraps an arm around her waist and gathers her against his chest. His other hand glides down her arm, down her side and along every soft curve. Her clothes are still damp, and so are his.
“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.
“I can’t,” she gasps. She says something in her native tongue, too fast for Dean to even register. He slows down so he can meet her eyes.
“What was that?” he asks. Her face falls, and she starts to trip over her words.
“I am not…how you say, married. I have to be…”
Dean smiles ruefully, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Chaste?” he offers. She nods, her brows furrowed. Her grip on his shirt tightens.
“Yes,” she says. “In the eyes of my people, it is…”
“I get it,” Dean says. When she still seems conflicted, he presses a kiss to her forehead.
“Really, I understand,” he says.
His problem is that he stares into her eyes too long, and at her kiss-swollen lips. He dives back in for another taste.
This time, he’s a little less gentlemanly than he promised. His tongue sweeps along her lower lip, begging entrance. She makes a sound of surprise, but she opens up to him. Her gentle hands slide up his chest to hold his face, and her thumbs stroke his cheeks. He holds one of her wrists to keep her there as his tongue dances with hers. She tastes like the river, and like salty tears.
Had she cried for him? How long did she sit with his body, waiting to see if he would wake up?
Despite those worrying thoughts, Dean knows this feels right. More right than he’s ever felt.
It’s harder than he might’ve imagined, but he still pulls away, before he won’t be able to stop himself. Mila pants for breath. She seems to feel she should let him go, but also doesn’t show any sign of wanting to. Smiling, Dean caresses her cheek one more time before he turns to the fish she roasted.
“This looks good,” he says, clearing his throat. “What kinda fish is this?”
With a sigh, she attempts to steady herself and moves to join him by the fire.
That night, Mila dreams.
She dreams of wings, white and beautiful. She hears the cry of an eagle before she sees his great wingspan take off in flight. He soon finds his mate, and they dance together in the sky.
When she wakes, the fire has gone out and it’s still dark in the night. It takes her a moment to realize that she’s safe. Finally safe.
And she’s lying securely in Dean’s arms.
She’s no longer conflicted when she stares up at his face.
She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize…
Her heart has already chosen.
“Kimmímila, what have you done?” her uncle asks in the language of their people.
He is Tahatan, Chief of their tribe.
Mila’s father, Chatan, and her cousin Šóta have tied Dean Winchester to a post in the center of the Chief’s large tipi. Dean kneels with his head bowed in respect, even though he keeps sneaking looks at Mila to try and gauge what’s happening. He doesn’t understand a word of any of it.
“You’ve brought this outsider into our village, this White Man!” Tahatan shouts, his voice deep and resounding.
Mila steps forward, despite her mother’s embarrassment and her father trying to grab her shoulder. For the second time in her life, she defies her father for what she believes is right. The first was to rescue a member of their tribe—because even a horse’s spirit should not be broken by greed.
“Uncle, I’ve told you the story, though you don’t want to believe it,” she says. “Dean Winchester saved me when he could have killed me, or worse. He defied his own people. He is dead to his own people, for me, and because of me. You may think they lack all honor, but this man is different.”
She looks over at Dean, and he meets her gaze. He wears an anxious frown as he looks between her and the chief, but she has a feeling that his fear is for her, not for himself.
She kneels beside him, then looks up at her uncle with all the stubbornness she’s ever possessed in her life. She feels it’s led her to exactly this moment.
“And we are one,” she says. Nerves trill up her spine as she says it. She predicts the way shock falls over the room. The way her father curses out loud, angry. The way her mother covers her mouth in dismay. The way the Chief takes a step back, tilting his head at his niece.
“You would take it that far?” he asks.
Her face doesn’t change. “It’s already done.”
Tahatan is beside himself, both angry and perplexed. He goes back to his chair of wicker and wood that lies centered in the room. He drops heavily into it. After a long while, in which he thinks in silence…he releases a heavy sigh. He gestures for his brother and his son to untie Dean. The men do so, but they don’t let him go free. They force him to stand and bring him forward to kneel again before the Chief.
“Dean Winchester,” Tahatan says.
“Yes, sir,” Dean replies.
“You prove yourself to be a man with honor,” he says in English. “Kimmímila has chosen you. She claims you have chosen her in return. Do you deny this?”
Dean glances over at her. She bites the inside of her lip, a bit worried about how he’ll react. She’s not sure he completely understands what Tahatan is telling him, but he nods, regardless.
“No, sir. I don’t deny it,” Dean says.
“Then, you will be allowed to stay, and live among us,” Tahatan declares. "We will see for ourselves what you are. We will see if you are worthy."
Dean gives a nod, crossed with a bow of some kind. He obviously isn’t sure of what he’s supposed to do, but he does say thank you. Mila wraps her hands around his uninjured arm and helps him to his feet. She smiles at him to let him know that the worst is over. He blows out a breath in relief.
“Is that it?” he whispers. He expected more of a thrashing, if he’s honest.
“Almost,” she replies. The two of them stop short before her father, Chatan.
Dean straightens up and holds out his hand. “Sir.”
Chatan glances down at the white hand extended toward him. His gaze raises back up to Dean.
He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.
She seems satisfied by what she finds, and she lets him go. Afterward, she takes Mila’s hand and heaves a deep sigh.
She kisses her daughter’s hand and says nothing else, leaving them to find her husband and calm him down.
Dean turns to Mila with a look that says, please tell me that’s it.
She smiles more genuinely.
“Come,” she says.
She leads him by the hand out of the Chief’s tipi and through the village. Dean takes in the rows of other tall, cone-like structures covered in buffalo skin, as well as all the faces that turn to stare at him in a mix of curiosity, wariness, and even fear. Some of them whisper to each other, taking their children by the hand and keeping them close.
Dean’s still on guard himself, even when Mila takes him to a smaller tipi. It’s been closed up for a while now, by the look of it. Weeds have grown right outside the entrance.
“This one’s yours?” Dean asks.
She pauses, giving him another small smile. “Ours.”
Dean raises a brow. Ours. Really?
She opens the flap in the front and beckons him inside. There’s still enough daylight to shine through the outer lining. Inside, his gaze flits over the old pile of stones in the center for heating, clothes folded in the corner, some cooking pots and utensils, paintings on wood and clay, and a couple of beaded decorations. Buffalo skin bedding is laid out on the other side with a couple of soft looking furs.
Son of a gun. Dean doesn’t even blink as he processes it all. He’s in a damn tipi. This is really about to become his life.
Shaking his head a little, he forces himself to focus on Mila. She’s his anchor, and she seems to sense that he’s reeling. She guides him to sit beside her on the bedding, holding his hands in hers. After a moment, he reaches up to tuck a curling strand of hair behind her ear.
“You didn’t get in too much trouble because of me, did you?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “No. My father and uncle are very similar. Strong to anger, but it is quick to run out. At least with me.”
Dean thinks he understands. Short fuse, quick fizzle.
“There is just…one thing,” Mila says. Her eyes fall away from his, like she’s embarrassed. He squeezes her hands.
“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing. It gets her to look at him again, but she seems worried to tell him.
“To convince my uncle to let you stay, I told them that we…” she trails, trying to find the right words in English. “That we are married.”
Dean’s brows raise high. His heart trips up faster. Okay, “ours” makes a lot more sense now.
“I am sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t want you hurt—”
“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”
In fact, this is a best-case scenario, as far as he’s concerned. He leans in to kiss her, and it doesn’t take long at all for her to sigh in relief, melting against him.
“We’re married, huh?” he asks. “No ceremony? No white dress?”
“We are bonded,” she replies, nodding as she meets every one of his kisses. “Or, we will be.”
She tugs him closer and revels in the feeling of his hands beginning to roam her body, sliding down her waist, her hips and thighs.
“Guess that means we have to seal the deal,” he grins. His lips drift away from hers to burn a familiar path across her cheek. He takes to nibbling her ear, making her flinch and laugh as it tickles.
“Seal-the-deal. What does that mean?” she asks.
Dean chuckles lowly in her ear. “Oh, I think you know.”
He guides her onto her back, over the comfortable mess of furs. He wants to take his time exploring every inch of soft, tan skin, but he first sweeps her hair away from her eyes, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She smiles up at him softly.
“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?”
Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others.
It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life.
“No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”
He bows his head toward hers, and he proves it to her. His lips capture hers, fueled by passion and wanting. Mila’s hands slide over his shoulders and down his back. Maybe without her realizing it, she implores him to let go of the weight heaped on his shoulders.
When he begins to bunch up the hem of her dress, she sits up to help guide his hands. Her quickening breaths mesh with his as the first layer of clothing drops beside the bedding. His tattered shirt joins her dress, along with pants and shoes and boots, until all that’s left is skin against warm, bare skin. He lays on his side right beside her and explores wherever she lets him begin.
“Beautiful,” Dean murmurs, as his lips follow the column of her neck, down between her breasts. Her breaths rise to meet him, especially when he begins to toy with a dark, pebbled nipple. Her fingers slip through his hair, and his name falls from her lips. He palms one breast while kissing and gently teasing the other, exploring sensitive flesh and grazing her sensitive fleshwith his teeth.
“No man’s ever touched you?” he asks, despite knowing the answer.
She shakes her head, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as his lips and tongue move against her skin.
“No,” Mila gasps a reply. Her hand slides down the back of his neck, and the more he teases her, her nails soon create faint red lines down his back, her thighs squeezing together. She feels a throbbing ache at the very center of her. Despite her inexperience with men, she knows what it means, and she knows what she wants.
Dean’s mouth drags away from her breast. He pulls back so he can meet her eyes. A smile curves his lips, and he takes one of her hands from his shoulders.
“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asks. He guides her hand down her body, brushing over a wet, sensitive nipple, down her stomach, and between her legs. This time, Mila nods in answer. She stares up at Dean with eyes like molten honey. He leans in to kiss her neck.
“Show me,” he says.
She shudders at the depths in his voice. It increases the flood of wetness she already feels, even before she slips two fingers between the folds of her sex. She gathers some of that slick and circles it over the source of her pleasure, the small nub above her entrance.
Dean takes his hardened length in his hand. While she writhes by her own hand, he drinks her in with his eyes. A soft groan falls from his lips as he pumps himself a few times, sliding a thumb across the weeping head of his cock.
He can’t be a spectator for long though. He nips tantalizingly at her neck, creating a zing of added sensation across her skin. She whimpers, though she tries to stifle it, her knee bending further.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dean says. “Let me hear you.”
He releases himself and replaces her hand with his own. He slips two long fingers inside her drenched entrance, earning a gasping moan from her. She latches onto his shoulders and buries her face into his neck. She whispers fervent things he doesn’t understand, but it only spurs him on.
His thumb circles insistently over her clit as his fingers pulse inside her. Her hips buck a needy rhythm against his hand, until her thighs begin to shake, and her inner walls squeeze even tighter around his fingers.
“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he pants gruffly against her cheek. “Let go for me.”
Warmth snaps and floods from her throbbing core, and she cries out near his ear, her nails biting into his skin. Her release coats his fingers.
Mila drops her head back against the furs underneath her. Her chest rises and falls quickly while she tries to catch her breath, her eyes tightly shut. Dean surprises her with a soft kiss.
“Mila,” he prods. He wants to see her eyes again, so pretty and wanton when she comes. He veers away from her lips to kiss her cheek, and then the other side of her neck. “Let me see you, sweetheart.”
She huffs a small laugh. Opening her eyes, she gestures to her bare body. “This is not enough?”
Dean’s lips tug at a smile. He shakes his head. “As a matter of fact, no.”
He shifts over her, finding his place between the cradle of her thighs. His elbows come to rest on either side of her head. She feels trapped by his body, even as she welcomes his weight and the feeling of his arousal, long and heavy and hard, trapped between their bodies. This man fills every corner of her world in this moment.
“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection.
“All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.”
Dean chuckles. “You sure about that?”
She smiles in satisfaction, and her lips claim him this time. One kiss turns into many, each one mounting in passion and desire. Dean groans into her when she begins to touch him. Her hands are soft, but direct in their seeking; they caress his shoulders, run down his chest and stomach, and then, more tentatively explore the now painfully hard length of him pressing against her.
He makes a grateful sound of pleasure when her hand wraps around his cock, squeezing gently. His fingers bury themselves in her hair.
“I want all of you,” she says, this time a plea and a demand all at once as she strokes him.
Dean nods in agreement. He’s come this far. He can do that for her too.
He spreads her thighs a bit wider and encourages her to adjust the angle of her hips for him. His hand glides down her plush thigh and gets a healthy grip. Then he slides his hand under hers and guides his cock through her folds, first just holding himself at her warm, wet entrance.
He manages to wait for a second, in order to meet her gaze. She’s already holding onto his arms tightly, like he’s become her anchor. Her thighs wrap around his hips and beckon him closer.
Slowly, he pushes inside. He takes care in how he works her open. She winces at the sting of his girth stretching her, but his fingers once again massage her clit, stroking her arousal back into a keening flame. He swallows her gasps and moans as he bottoms out inside her, fully sheathed. Tears prick at her eyes, but not from pain.
Mila’s dream flashes like a waking vision behind her eyes. Wings take flight, along with the gleam of a golden beak and a sharp eye.
She blinks, and the image disappears. She’s left with the man who has become hers, making love to her with every stroke of him deep inside her. She presses grateful kisses across his neck and shoulder, wherever she can reach while she clings to his strong arms.
The thick head of him brushes a sensitive place over and over, one that tightens the coil in her lower belly and makes her core tremble again with warmth, until her body convulses against him, pulsing in pleasure, gripping him tight from the inside. Mila’s fingers clench in his hair just as tightly as her release hits her in a powerful wave; even her voice becomes lost to it.
Gritting his teeth, Dean grips the soft flesh of her hip and chases his own end. The way her inner walls choke his cock, he has no choice but to come hot inside her, his spend mixing with her own release. A strangled shout tears from his throat.
He has to brace himself before he crushes her. With his forearms resting on either side of her head, he lowers his forehead against hers. Her legs slip from where they’ve been tightly molded to his hips, her feet meeting the floor. Eventually he slips out of her. He watches his seed drip out and create a mess on the dark furs. The sight of it satisfies something primal deep inside him.
Later he’ll ask her about washing up (and about supper), but for now, he just turns onto his back beside her. She inches toward him, and he raises an arm so she can splay out against his side. They both lay there for a moment in the quiet, just catching their breath together. It marks the end of a long journey, and yet, the start of one too.
Mila turns to raise onto her elbow. She reaches over to wipe the sweat from his brow in a tender touch. Dean smiles up at her. He takes her hand and presses a kiss into her palm.
“I could get used to this,” he says.
Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she laughs softly. “Yes.”
Her hand moves down to his chest, over his heart. She sobers as she considers her people, and how much trust has yet to be bridged—not only her own father and uncle, but the entire tribe. When she led him through the village, they called him wašíču.
Fat-taker. Greedy White. Not one of us.
“It will be hard for you here,” Mila says. She worries it will be too hard for Dean.
He just squeezes her hand, earning her attention through tumultuous thoughts.
“I’m not afraid of a little hard work,” Dean replies. His usual confident charm is infused in his smile, but she has a feeling he’s just trying to reassure her.
Sensing she’s not convinced, Dean reaches up to hold her cheek, guiding her to look at him and not the floor.
“Listen. I made my choice, and I’m sticking it out, come hell or high water,” he says.
Mila’s brows knit together. “Hell-or-high… What does that mean?”
Dean sits up on his elbow along with her. He takes her chin between his fingers and meets her gaze.
“It means if you want me, you’ve got me. The rest, we’ll figure out as we go along,” he says.
A smile slowly lightens Mila’s face. She tilts her chin up to meet him with a kiss.
“I will be with you,” she says. It’s a promise.
Dean smiles back.
“Good,” he says. “Because that’s just about all I need.”
AN: There we have it, friends. 💜 I really, truly hope you enjoyed this mini series! To be honest, I have more ideas for this little world (like how Dean might try to assimilate into this culture), but I'll leave it to you guys to let me know if that's something you'd be interested in reading.
Until then, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter!
Pronunciation Guide:
Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew")
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#The Honorable Choice#Jacklesversebingo24#dean winchester angst#dean winchester#dean winchester x oc#supernatural#dean winchester fanfiction#dean x oc#spn#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester smut#dean winchester fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfic#supernatural x reader#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x oc#jackles#jensen ackles fanfiction#dean winchester au#western au#dean au#dean winchester x original character#guysireadsomething
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the bloody bridge is down and ruidus is back on the move!!
#THE MOON IS MOVING AGAIN GUYS THE MOON! IS! MOVING!#the leylines are untangled and the weave is settling back into place!! LETS GOOOOO#critical role#cr spoilers#c3ep114#text#THAT. WAS. SICKKKKKKK
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AGAIN, NO SPOILERS just wildly out of context reactions i love folk music so much. anyway I’ll be writing all my thoughts here for the rest of these 28 mins. so.
• this song is so so good
• jayce u sexy man 😝 love my glorious goat jayce love him
• short haired jinx ily so much ur soooo cutie pie she’s so sweet with short hair u guys do not get it.
• heimerdinger CAN SING HELLO????
• ekko😍 ekko oh my GOD come home i’m so in love with you it’s actually sick and twisted and deranged please come home please please please please please please please
• JAYCE COME HOME RIGHT FUCKING NOW OH MY GOD NO COME HOME OH NY GOD COME HOME WHAT THE SHIT… jayce my glorious king im so so in love w u and i’m so sorry this fandom doubted u I NEVER DID KING!!!
• jinx & ekko r so fucking funny idk yall i think im kinda nailing their dynamic in my fic both the good and the bad parts
• okay i miss her long hair real bad
• ekko drops the hardest lines. “Sometimes taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind.” EKKO UR SO RIGHT (guess what’s going in the fic yall)
• the hard cuts between jayce n ekko rlly r fryin me yall. im so lucky im sober bc if i was high watching this episode i would tweak out so bad.
• heimerdinger makes very valid points n im so happy ekko has him
• ekko in green😍🫶🏽 ekko in GREEN!!! oh lord the arcane graphic design team knew exactly what they were doing GET THIS MAN HIS GOLD JEWELRY AND SOME EMERALD GREEN THREADS STAT!!
• jinx🥹 she’s so cutie patootie😍 IF EKKO DONT WANT HER I DO MF MOVE!!!
• i fw this song its french i fw it heavy
• chat is it gay to look at the moon w ur bsf underneath some fairy lights? in this scenario its not GAY but its gay. (i use gay as a substitute for so many words i could not tell u what word in substituting w gay rn but it’s something)
• OH MY FUCKING GOD OH MY GOD YES YES YES WE R SOOOO BACK WE R SO BACK YES YES YES YES YES YES TES YES TES TES YES YES YES WOOOOOOO
• jayce😍 (i miss mel but i also missed my two favs like one missed air soooo) also sorry guys i know this is just how the arcane looks but these holes r freaking me out so fucking bad. like idk the trypophobia it rlly making it hard guys. i’m trying my best to push thru im sorry guys but im probably missing pivotal moments of plot everytime i look away
• HOLY SHIT JAYCE?
• HOLY SHIT HEIMERDINGER!!!
• STOP I FORGOT HOW HE LOOKED PRE-THIS ARC HES SO 😍
• everyone said i would be crying but i am not?? was i supposed to??
• at the end of the day? i got what i wanted n idgaf. crossing this off the bingo card for three things i got right. if episode 8 gives me the other two then i win
live tweeting tweeting arcane part III (NO SPOILERS) yall ekko is so fine im abt to cry😭
#arcane part 3#reactions to this lowkey cute shit#episode 7 was a palate cleanser and i appreciated it immensely#fan service that isn’t gay for once n shockingly i still enjoyed it. strange.
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the coolest kids in forgotten valley!!☆
(…it seems there may have been a stretch of time where rock and lumina were the only kids in forgotten valley…🥲)
poseref
#in the remake hugh and the player’s kid are the same number of years apart#so i can see them having very similar conversations n friendship#surely these two kids will grow up well adjusted and they will have no lasting effects from this kind of isolation. they will be fine#i have been thinking a lot about what their childhoods were like. i want to protect both of them#everyone who has anything to say about them as kids says that both of them were not well behaved children at all#tei says rock was rambunctious and energetic and hard to handle. sebastian says lumina was less than amenable#rock says he was bored to death when he first came here and lumina asks you not to tell romana that she’s lonely#lumina also hated wearing dresses so. she is very mad and ready to bite people maybe#sos awl#bokumono#my art#rock tumbling (sos)#harvest moon#story of seasons#story of seasons a wonderful life#bokujou monogatari#i like to imagine a au where pony and cecilia come to visit their family’s respective farms#so these two can have more friends ;w;#i am always thinking about how they were both severed from their families and taken in by someone else at a young age to live in nowhere#and they are both not exactly enthused about following the path laid out for them#headcanon ⚠️ i wonder if rock’s moving out on his own happened when he was a teenager. he was extremely confident everything would work out#anyway he got fired from every job ever and after many years came crawling back. and he came crawling back blond#at the time of chapter 1 lumina is baffled by the state of the guy she grew up with. why is he using dated slang and wearing disco costume#she is also kind of mad at him for having been gone for so long#hc rock probably had more freedom as a kid than lumina did which probably annoyed her#once again takakura retrieves a small rock from the goddess pond and he’s covered in poison ivy bee stings etc. no remorse#lumina from her window on the hill feels somehow jealous of these misadventures#lumina mentions in her heart event that she doesn’t often visit the beach because her skin burns easily#meanwhile rock was probably playing outside always. if his kid is any indication#idk i like thinking about the history of this extremely small village
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happy birthday to the three realms' most specialest girl!!! (i promise i love you even though i put you through so much)
#(that's alatus with her by the way!! little guy)#art#obey me#as you can see i figured out one (1) cool-looking thing in that satan piece and am refusing to let it go#in my defence. i'm so bad at backgrounds#so once i've found one that looks good (i.e. big moon) i'm just gonna do it again#same applies for the whole shading process (i have once again employed my ultimate move: pale yellow on an overlay layer at 30% opacity)#i was gonna add the rest of the newspaper club too but i still haven't designed demon forms for them and i wanted them to fit the theme#(mephisto doesn't count since in present he never takes demon form anymore anyway. also it's mephisto)#(shhh you can't see him)#alright here come the character tags#jtta ik#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me luke#obey me solomon
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in this episode Imogen:
Took off her circlet. You know, that one that finally gave her peace and quiet, that soothed her constant pain and anxiety, and that gave her the confidence and energy to get back to fully feeling comfortable on her own skin after years. That’s the one. She just took it off.
Told laudna that she was disgusted by the fact that delilah was always watching them. You know, something that laudna fully has no control over whatsoever.
Admitted that she felt like she’s “tainted” and that the gods have been ignoring her for her entire life, in spite of her trying over and over to reach them. So she doesn’t really want to save them.
Mentioned being genuinely scared of meeting Liliana again. Totally not a problem, I’m sure nothing bad will happen there. Specially not in the next couple of episodes.
Said some unfair stuff to fearne, that I genuinely think is coming from somewhere else entirely, and I hope we circle back to eventually.
It’s safe to say that I am officially ✨worried✨ about the farmgirl
#I will not tolerate any amount of Imogen hate on this post if anyone even dares#miss temult will only be treated with love and tenderness in any post of mine 😂#but anyways#girly has spent like the last 2-3 eps fully hearbroken about the shit that keeps happening to them#so like yeah#of course#she’s on some sort of breaking point#she talked to a god yet again who she’s trying to save only to be ignored and pressed upon the fact that she’ll lose the woman she loves#Laudna’s abuser has been continuously tormenting them and fully damaging Laudna’s wellbeing whilst she can’t do much of anything#laudna asked her to move on and find happiness when Delilah inevitably takes over#also to take her down before that happens#they’re about to go to the moon where they could face and/or even have to kill some of the bad guys that include her own mother#plus she’s constantly fighting off this intrinsic need of hers to give into a power that’ll destroy her and everyone she loves#the farmgirl is truly NOT doing alright#oh and a friend of hers just manipulated another friend of hers into letting them kill themselves#pretty wild#critical role#Laudna needs her own post btw cause she’s going THROUGH it as well#imodna#imogen temult#southern gothic#c3#cr spoilers#c3 spoilers#critical role spoilers#bells hells#campaign 3
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Hihi hi! As reaction to your tags :3
I am happy to hear you are feeling unwell /pos thanks to my post hihi that was the aim :D
I LOVE Ccino in this AU so much and i keep gravitating towards his pov! and yeah. It was either him or Nightmare's pov but in the end it was just. Ironically. Ccino had more going on at the time ironically. Nightmare's motivation was all about keeping Dream save and saving him from this 'terrible pain' that the ritual required. Ccino had EVERYTHING going on and then that little fact on top of that and Nightmare's anxiety. So. Ccino was the pick again.
Thank you! It was so important to me to showcase that Ccino adores Nightmare (and dream). Ccino loves his two little brothers so much and they are the little lights in his life. I needed to showcase that Ccino has been putting the twin's needs before himself for so long that it became natural to him.
and yeah. Ccino is a very sweet guy normally and he just wants the twins to be okay and happy. nightmare is scared and worried and ALREADY planning on stealing the apple and is even more nervous about that so he is just sneakily trying to get ccino to either assure him that dream won't be hurt. or that ccino beleives in him.
And yes! the sun and moon motifs <3 I love that so much for the twins. Together with their own masks of course but i had to pepper it in :3
And the med scene. I just. figured. with the fact that ccino was suposed to be dream's. Was suposed to be for the next king. He would be very closely monitorred and micromanaged. Everything he does or is or feels? It needs to be known. So yeah. This isn't the first invasive medical check but it WAS the last.
and yeah. ccino and his never ending to do list. That is forever expending and always so important and he is expected to just be fine with ti.
he is fine. (he isn't.)
My friend!! the ritual!! I spend so much time thinking about it and figured it wouldn't be large or big. Just this small action. The magic is so emotions centered which is why the apple needs to be given willingly. and they both hold the apple to give ownership up to the powers.
For a short moment. the apple has all the magic again and could be planted to make a new tree. And then the next king eats it.
Dream IS eager! This is a good thing! He will take his next step as he was trained and taught to from his childhood. His mother dusts and all that is left is her dust and her mask. Which will be put in a case to keep it. Then dream goes to eat it and nightmare interfers.
And yes!! Nightmare had been looking around for ccino to reassure him. and remember the promise that ccino would be there. So nightmare tackled his twin. stole the apple. Looked at ccino to feel more brave. and ate it. because he knew that even if everything went wrong and everyone hates him. Ccino would love him. ccino would be there (he also believed dream to still love him but he was proven wrong with that.)
And yeah. Dream had his world rocked because his twin betrayed him. something everyone said he would do but dream never believed those liars. his twin would NEVER betray him!
and then he did. and dream is hurting so badly because of it.
and yeah. I was thinking. Ccino would never have allowed EITHER twin to hurt the other. It isn't in his nature and he would have always moved from his role and spot to stop both twins. So even if dream had eaten the apple. Much the same would have happened but dream would only need to be shaken from the impulse once before he took control. (dream also wouldn't have kept ccino as like a mate. Drema knows that ccino is their babysitter and that ccino helps keep nightmare save. He would ahve just made ccino nightmare's main caretaker and ordered ccino to make sure nightmare is okay. always.)
so even if dream had eaten the apple. things would ahve been relatively okay for the twins and ccino. though drema would ahve had a ruling much simular to nim's because he was taught that was the way to rule.
and yeah. again. ccino never seeing his own needs as priorities anymore. that was beat out of him from a young age. He was always going to focus on the boys. think about what to do next and help them.
ccino was there for nightmare because he has always been. it is familiar and a habit and he went right back to doing that when he noticed nightmare needing help.
and yes! Captain fawks :D He is an ass and as you mentioned in your coment. I think that nghtmare will murder him on the spot for even ENTERTAINING the idea of punishing ccino for helping him in a crisis.
Which would lead to nightmare wanting to know why he would even think that is okay.... and get nightmare thinking. and get nightmare to look through nim's, well now his own, office and papers. looking for anything conserning ccino... and finding the truth. the full truth. Because nim took CAREFUL notes on how ccino was progressing and what his next step would be. (including ccino's eating schedule which had pretty much been reduced to one light breakfast every week at this point.)
nightmare realising that. He would be furious. Sera would be the next to be killed immediantly afterwards. Nightmare woudl not be okay to know that the person he adored most after dream was made to suffer so much. the whole time. And nightmare NEVER NOTICED.
And i had to give ccino the option to put sera in her place. Ccino learned a lot very quickly. he long ago surpassed sera in every single way.
and yes! Sasha the seamstress! She tried to hype him up. heart in the right place but a bit misguided (i think she is one of the few who remained. she is loyal in like the honest slightly blissful ignorant way. she tries though!)
As i said before. Dream was also hurting a lot. he was betrayed and everyone just moved passed that. the future he had been preparing for. the future he was suposed to have? gone in a second. He is hurting and sad and mad and he lashes out.
The way you spoke about Captain Rogers staring at Ccino with deep rooted respect made me think that he MUST have seen something that mad ehim respect him. and i figured. if he is the captain he must have already proving his worth and skills and trustworthyness. So. He was there since the start. Saw the prince transform. and saw Ccino see the crisis and correct the whole course.
and afterwards! Int he weeks following the incident. Noticed that ccino helped keep nightmare on track without being obvious. ccino kept to the sidelines but made sure that nightmare was were he eneded to be. spoke with who was needed. kept the kign healthy.
Rogers would know that for a while there? Ccino was ruling the kingdom as nightmare got used to his powers.
so yeah. deeply rooted respect that will NEVER leave. Rogers told the new cadets to listen to ccino. not jsut because ccino's position or because nightmare told him that everyone needs to. but because HE believes it to his own core.
Yes more bits of nightmare and ccino's relationship. the way that nightmare. even now eVERYTHING is different. he trusts ccino. ccino is safe and has always beens afe and ccino PROMISED he would be there and he IS THERE.
and yes i agree. ngihtmare 100% first went to dream and their old room only to be cursed out and be rejected. So he went to ccino. where he is save and can be held. and ccino does just that.
I wanted to also add a bit about how ccino reminds nightmare that he is a very brave monster and that nightmare says it is easy ti be brave when ccino is nearby but i couldn't find a good spot for that as both would be exhasuted and just wanted to sleep.
something that i personally still really like is the detail that ccino can't stand looking at himself.
Not because he hates how he looks.
but the reason is that each time he sees his own face now he only feels grieve and pain and sorrow.
because his face is exactly like his mother's. so even if he can't quite remember how she looks. ccino sees his face and all those old emotions and hurt and memories of the heartbreak or losing his parents comes back to the surface.
I am sure i forgetting to mention something hahaha but yeah! Happy you had fun! and i am hapyp we both agreed that nightmare deserves to murder some peeps so it has more impact for him to ask his kngiths to do so and it means even more when he refuses and stops it.
Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - The Eclipse
I am back again and I got a big boy drabble for you today @spotaus
After the amazing drabble they did about Nightmare losing the magic. I decided it was about time I tried my hands at the event that brought forth the magic!
Also we are back to Ccino POV. I don't know what it is about him in this series I just love him dearly and adore his POV. Once we move more into the story I will probably do other people's POVs haha.
Warnings! We are in for a rough time because Ccino never has it easy and that is like 90% my fault. There is past abuse, past starvation, victim blaming (kinda), there is gaslighting, there is manipulation. Implied future abuse.
There is a lot and I need you to be aware of this.
Also... It... may be a bit long? As in 10K words long. So... just so you know it is long. With that out of the way! Lets Go!
*--------------------------------------*
Ccino isn’t sure what to feel. He knows he should be proud and feel excited. Today was the twin’s birthdays. They were finally turning thirteen. Something everyone in the kingdom has been excited for for the last few years as this day grow closer.
Ccino sighs as he feels his body shake. Even as he makes sure that Nightmare’s outfit is spotless. It is a beautiful light yellow. It will fit in perfectly amongst the golden and yellow decorations but Ccino can only assume it is on purpose. To show Nightmare’s rank and position as prince as Dream ascends. To see they belong together and are connected by their bond as twins.
Nightmare frows as he tugs on his shelves. Ccino gently takes his hand and removes it from the soft fabric “Hey. It is okay my prince.” He puts the sleeves back in place and is happy to note there are no ruffles.
Nightmare frowns as he turns his skull away. Ccino frowns as he makes sure the outfit is perfect.
Nightmare mutters “Still think they are stupid for making you wear pink…”
Ccino blinks and looks down at his undershirt. It is a very soft light pink and there are yellow accents. He smiles as he twists his skull a bit to enable himself to look better at Nightmare “Really? Why is that my prince?”
Nightmare shrugs and mutters “Pink doesn’t suit you… beige is better.”
Ccino smiles “I do love the neutral and nature colours… But your brother was allowed to pick everything for his big day.” And it was only fitting that the new king’s gift was exactly as he wanted-
Ccino shakes his skull. He needs to stop thinking about it like that. He isn’t the one who matters here.
Nightmare is anxious. Nightmare’s twin is about to be crowned and become king. Complete this mysterious ritual. Ccino had to be there for him. Nightmare had found information and mentions about this great sacrifice and pain. Something that Dream had to do or experience to ascend to godhood.
Nightmare had come to him near tears. Terrified his brother would be hurt by this ritual that was going to happen no matter what. Nightmare had said he had tried to warn Dream but Dream just told him he was nervous and that everything would be okay. That Dream would become a god like their mother and Dream would rule their kingdom.
Nightmare had spoken about how he had gone to his mother with his worries but Nim just dismissed him. That Nim had just told him he was seeing things wrong again and that he was letting silly ideas get the better of him again.
Ccino isn’t surprised she was like that. Nim is just like that. A terrible and horrible-
Ccino stops himself. He can never be sure what she knows and what she doesn’t.
Instead, even back when Nightmare came to him, he concentrated on helping Nightmare. Helping him calm down before looking at what he had found.
Ccino wasn’t even sure what it was but he knew… he knew that Nightmare was correct. This magic, this ritual it is dangerous.
But there is nothing Ccino could do to help him. Ccino doesn’t know magic. He can’t even do magic. He knows nothing about magic or what it all means. He was only able to hold Nightmare close until he fell asleep for the night. Ccino letting him sleep in his room with him to help him feel safe.
Ccino doesn’t know magic…
But Ccino remembers… He thinks he remembers at least… He believes that his mother used to sing… That she could do magical things with music. Ccino thinks their little house used to be filled with music.
His father had these... magical kisses? Ccino thinks so at least… That his father could give kisses when you were hurt or sad and everything felt better… Something about his magic only working because of Ccino and his mom…
Ccino thinks so at least…
He can’t really remember what his father looked like…
He just knows he is supposed to look like his mom… but he isn’t sure as he can’t remember her well either… It has been so long
Nightmare shifts before him and Ccino pulls himself out of his mindless thinking. Ccino turns Nightmare around and hums “The yellow looks nice on you…”
Nightmare pulls on his shirt anxiously “You think so? I think it looks weird… yellow fits Dream. Not me.”
Ccino smiles as he knows how to handle this easily “Really? I think it looks nice.” he gently takes Nightmare’s hands as Ccino ignores the scars on those small bones from his practise cuts “Yellow compliments purple after all. Makes your eye lights stand out more.”
Nightmare looks deeply embarrassed but has a shy smile “Really?”
Ccino smiles “Have I ever lied to you?”
Nightmare shakes his skull and looks a bit more relaxed as he looks back into the mirror. Ccino looks him over and smiles. Nightmare, and Dream, has grown into a fine young teen.
Ccino can’t help but be proud of both the twins. Ccino has always been closer to Nightmare as Dream had many others who seemed to want to answer his every request. Which meant that Ccino just focused on Nightmare when he could. Make sure the younger twin didn’t feel left behind.
Ccino is proud to say that he managed it. Nightmare is happy and never mentioned feeling alone. He mentioned missing his twin when he went to his classes but aside from that Nightmare was happy and healthy. Dream was too.
The twins adore each other and are the closest friends. Both are happy and healthy.
All in all. Ccino thinks he has been doing a great job with helping and raising them.
Ccino hums as he moves to Nightmare’s front and starts putting up the little golden and sun jewellery. Careful all in the right spots. Decorating his thin neck and the fragile wrists.
Last Ccino picks up the small silver crown and places it on Nightmare’s skull “Almost done my prince.”
Nightmare stares at him “We are alone.” And he waits.
Ccino blinks and smiles softly “My prince-” Nightmare frowns more. Ccino sighs but can’t stop smiling “Nightmare. You know I have to address you properly.” He can’t stop himself as he rubs the smaller skull and Nightmare leans into it happily “I am just a servant. People can’t see me disrespecting you like that.”
Nightmare frowns again “I don’t care.” And he glares more “and you are not just a servant. You are you.”
Ccino smiles and nuzzles him softly “I know you don’t care Nightmare. And I would like to not care either. But… it isn’t right or how it works…” he gives him a sad smile.
Nightmare frowns and mutters “Maybe… When Dream is king he can change that?” he looks a bit more hopeful.
Anxiety returns to his soul. Ccino doesn’t want to be important and known… He forces it back down as he gives a gentle smile “As king he won’t get the chance to do such things until much later Nightmare. He can’t risk being seen as weak or someone who is easy to disrespect. Once things calm down we can maybe ask him. Okay?” much later.
Nightmare frowns and mutters “Who would disrespect him? He would be a king and a god!” and he looks at Ccino.
Ccino feels bad. Seeing as he doesn’t respect Nim at all. And Nim is like that. Ccino instead gives him a tiny grin “Some people will just be like that. Even if they don’t have a good reason. And no matter how much you want them to you can’t change their minds.” He rubs his cheek “Which means you can only focus on what matters to you and the country.”
Nightmare frowns before nodding “I can do that for him. Help him.” He rubs his arm and whispers “Do… do you think the… the bad thing will happen?”
Ccino frowns “I am not sure Nightmare. I am so sorry…” he can’t help him when it matters… Ccino wasn’t even sure why he thought he could help either of them in a way that matters.
Nightmare leans into his touch and mutters “At least you believe me.”
Ccino feels a bit better as he speaks softly “And I always will. Even if no one else believes you. I will. I will be there for you. I swear.” It is an easy promise to make to him.
Nightmare actually smiles this time.
Ccino relaxes as he slowly gets the paint and make up out “Ready for the last finishing touches?”
Nightmare nods and takes a seat. Ccino gets the paint and gets to work. Ccino had to do these very early on for both the twins. Dream would want to get up and move around while Nightmare would patiently wait for Ccino to finish and for the make up to dry. Ccino never minded it of course. It was fun! It reminded him of finger painting and practising make up with his mom. It are dear memories.
Ccino starts with a bit of paint by Nightmare’s cheeks and his chin. To make sure the edges look softer and a bit rounder. Next he adds a very small line of golden yellow around the very edge of his sockets. Ccino hadn’t been lying after all, yellow did help make purple stand out more and with this is made the purple pop. Ccino then took the silver and with the utmost care he painted the phases of the moon from one temple to the other across the forehead. Making sure the full moon was at the very center. Ccino didn’t even need to redo it today.
Ccino smiles as he takes a step back “All ready.” He washes the paint and make up from his phalanges.
Nightmare hops off his chair and looks into the mirror “Will you have to also do Dream’s paints?”
Ccino shakes his skull “Not today. I believe the king is helping your twin prepare.” He finishes cleaning himself up and puts everything back to its spot.
Nightmare nods as he looks into the mirror anxiously “It is okay… it is fine… Dream will be fine…” he tugs on his shirt again.
Ccino joins his side and frees the shirt from the tight hold. After it he tugs it all back in place before stepping back “There. You are ready my prince.” And he gives a small bow “Very soon. Crown prince.”
Nightmare rubs his arm. Luckily the material the shirt is made of doesn’t crumble easily and it remains looking nice and puffy. Ccino needs to make sure Nightmare looks fine and no one can say anything rude to Nightmare about it.
Ccino joins his side and smiles “Hey… Nighty?” Nightmare immediately looks at him. Ccino keeps smiling. Praying it helps relax him “You are going to do amazing. You will look stunning together with your twin and you two have bright futures ahead of you.”
Nightmare gives a very slow nod before he mutters “Will you be nearby? I know it is private and only for the inner circle until the real crowning but… Will you please be near?”
Ccino smiles “Yeah. I will be close by.” For completely different reasons…
Nightmare relaxes and smiles brightly “Thank you… I need you there to feel brave.”
Ccino feels like his soul is gripped as he gives him a gentle hug. Making sure not to mess up Nightmare’s outfit or make up “You don’t need me for that Nightmare. You are the bravest monster I know. But I will be there okay? You will see me right there okay? And if you start feeling scared or unsure you can look at me and know that there will always be people who believe in you and are there for you. Okay?” He rubs the cheek.
Nightmare pushes his face more into it and lets out a soft purr “Thank you.”
Ccino smiles “I am happy to be there for you. Both of you.” He hears footsteps in the distance and quickly takes his hand back as he steps back. Nightmare looks confused for a moment before the door behind him opens.
Ccino bows to the captain entering “Captain.”
The captain, a bird monster by the name of Falks, dismisses him but that is alright. Ccino doesn’t mind at all. He knows that most of the higher ups kind of know the deal that is about to happen.
Captain Falks bows to Nightmare “Hello my prince. I am here to lead you to the king and the future king.”
Nightmare nods before looking back at Ccino “See you soon Ccino.” And he follows the captain out.
Ccino makes sure to remain in his spot until the door closes. When it closes he feels all the tension return as the need to hide in one of the tunnels returns. He doesn’t want to go there.
He doesn’t want to be at the ritual.
Because… That will be the moment that he…
That his…
He is right now the king’s after all. Nim just only had use for him as babysitter and servant. Ccino knows… he knows what the little apple patterns on his clothes mean after all.
Ccino feels his breath quicken as he grabs a hold on the vanity and gasps as his breath gets shorter and shorter. He stares at himself for a moment before looking away. He can’t stand the sight of himself. Seeing himself hurts… Seeing himself brings back memories he can’t quite remember and pain and fear from long ago. He can’t deal with that. He can’t.
Ccino gasps as he takes a seat on the ground and curls up more. This is it… today… he will be… he won’t…
He… he is never going to see Nightmare ever again? Is he?
He doesn’t know what the ritual does. Not exactly.
But Nim had pulled him aside and given him an idea. How it changes the person. How it increases their power and that with it came the knowledge that they were more important than any mortals. That their power and their ability to hold and manage that power is the proof.
That once Dream gets the power he will finally get the power he deserves. He will have the power and knowledge that will make him the god among people.
That Ccino will be there for him in any way he wishes. For anything he wants.
Any. Thing.
Ccino feels gross just thinking about it.
Footsteps in the hallway and Ccino has to pull himself together. He forces himself back to his feet even if his whole body shakes. Even if he can’t stand the sight of everything around him.
He just manages to pull his face into a more neutral look and slow his panicked breathing when the door opens. Some guards stand ready and mutter about bringing Ccino to the room to prepare him for the ritual.
Ccino follows the guards. His soul pulsing fast enough that Ccino is starting to feal dizzy. He keeps his breaths short as he follows the familiar path.
They end by the healing bay and he is left by the door. The door opens and two medics are there already. They rush Ccino in and comment about him being later than expected. Ccino apologises as he stands in the room.
He hears the two healers talk as he stares ahead of himself. Trying so hard not to hear. He doesn’t want to hear it.
Ccino stares ahead of himself. The other wall has shelves which hold a lot of different items and potions. Ccino knows that some of those are against exhaustion and to give more energy. There are health boosters and even a few that will just knock you out. All different colours.
The scents are making his already dizzy skull spin and pound. He may be starting to get migraine.
The doctor snaps “Ccino!”
Ccino blinks and turns slightly “Yes sir?”
The doctor, Nigel, looks annoyed while the other healer, Mar, giggles “Don’t be mad at him. Can you blame him? He will be the future King’s first mate.” They sigh wishfully “I am so jealous… I wish I could be the one who helped Dream like that.”
They disgust Ccino. Ccino doesn’t care that technically Dream is about to magically become an adult. He is a child! One who barely started puberty! How could they think about him like that? Like they are just waiting for him to grow up so they can… so they can think and do those things to him?!
Doctor Nigel sighs annoyed as he stares at Ccino “When did you last eat and what?”
Ccino needs to think. He hadn’t eaten that morning… He hasn’t had dinners in ages much like lunches. His last breakfast was… “Day before yesterday.” If he is correct.
The doctor looks annoyed “Seriously? You pigging out again? You know that you need to look your best.” He sighs as he shakes his head.
Ccino just looks down. He just had been so hungry. He had felt so empty and tired. He had thought… Maybe a little wouldn’t be bad? Just to get a bit of energy.
Nigel looks at him expecting “What did you eat?”
Ccino looks to the side. Feeling guilty “Had some toast… and some yogurt and milk.” It had been so good. He had felt full after it and sighed happily.
The doctor huffs “Pigging. Out.”
The other giggles “Oh let him pig out. Maybe then King Dream will see that he is not that much anyway. Let someone who is actually pretty get a chance to please our new lord.” They sigh wishfully again.
Nigel shoots his colleague a look “Stop it. You can try to get in his harem once he is established.” He turns back to side as he grabs a step stool “The first mate always dies quickly anyone. They are there for the king to test their power and magic after all. Rather painful from what I understand.” He points towards the step stool “Undress and on the step stool.”
Ccino feels sick and feels his soul pulse anxiously but his body does as ordered. He feels beyond exposed as he stands there. Staring downwards as the two doctors circle him and comment on things. He can hardly hear it. His skull hurts.
Doctor Nigel hums “Luckily none of the lashes gave permanent marks after all. It would be unsightly for our future king to see marks of disobedience.” He makes a note as he moves on and checks his ribs and spine. Touching it and Ccino tries to ignore how invasive it feels. “Age?”
Ccino needs a moment to think “Twenty.”
He hums and makes a note “That should fertile then. Good. Summon your ecto.”
Ccino really doesn’t want to. His soul is filled with anxiety but he tries.
Nothing happens.
The doctor looks annoyed “I said. Summon the ecto.”
Ccino doesn’t look up “I can’t… I don’t have enough energy or magic.” Maybe he can’t summon it at all anymore. Maybe it is broken? Would that mean he doesn’t have to worry about this whole thing anymore? If he is unable to summon the parts needed… If he is too broken to serve his purpose…
The doctor grumbles as he walks to the cabinet and searches through the bottles before pulling one out “Here. Drink it.”
Ccino looks at the bright orange liquid and feels sick just looking at it. It smells gross. It looks disgusting. It is much too solid to be a normal drink.
Mar laughs as they smirk at him “What is wrong? Suddenly not a glutton anymore?”
Ccino doesn’t want to… But he remembers the pain of the lashes. The way each one burned. They way they would wait between the hits. Until his back was fully healed before giving the next one. Healing it magically, fast and aggressive which left his back tender and hurting of pains that weren’t there anymore. Then the next lash would hit.
He still feels the pain sometimes. Which is dumb. Ccino knows he isn’t hurt anymore. It got healed years ago and it doesn’t hurt. There is nothing there that could hurt. Everyone told him as much. To stop acting as if he is hurt when he was fine.
Ccino downs the potion as ordered. It is gross and sticks to his throat and it feels unpleasant. The unknown and different magic in the potion makes him sick but he stands there.
Nigel nods “Now. That should give you enough magic and mana to at least last through the night for our new King. Now summon so I can inspect your ecto.”
Ccino feels sick but does as ordered. He focusses on his soul. Even if the pulsing of it is uneven and anxious it is better than to think about the hands touching his ecto. Hands he doesn’t want to touch him anywhere.
He stares ahead. Staring at the different coloured bottles. Two are purple. One is blue. There is a green one on the side. Most of them don’t have a colour and three are yellow. All on different shelves. None of them have labels.
Doctor Nigel steps back as he takes notes “Seems fine and stable enough. A bit too round but that is too be expected from your gluttonous nature.” The doctor makes notes.
The other giggles “Best hope the king likes them heavier.” And Mar giggle again.
Ccino hates it here.
The doctor shoots his colleague a look “Behave. It will not look good for you if the first mate doesn’t like your behaviour.” And he shoots Ccino a look “You can get dressed again. Others will come pick you up soon to get ready.” And he turns to his desk. The other doctor huffs and shoots Ccino a jealous look.
Ccino would willingly and gladly trade places. Do it. Take his place. He doesn’t want to be some offering to placate a newly ascended god. Ccino knows what everyone implies he will do to do that. He feels sick.
Either way he gets dressed in the much too soft cotton with the almost silky feel to it. It is soft as he tugs on it. His soul feels like it has permanently moved to his throat. He still feels dizzy, the other magic in his body makes him feel sick.
Everything about this makes him ill. He wants to hide. Just not go. Fuck it. Stay in the hidden tunnels and just keep hiding there until they give up on searching for him. No one ever found him in those tunnels anyway.
The image of Nightmare looking hopefully into the crowd when he feels nervous. Ccino not being there.
He can’t… He can’t break his promise to Nightmare.
The door opens and a few maids walk in. They all seem excited and happily tug Ccino with them. They talk about how lucky he is and how he doesn’t need to worry! That people will make sure he looks pretty and then the new King will not be able to keep his hands to himself!
Ccino just smiles and nods. Not sure if he can keep himself from throwing up if he starts talking.
They get to the large dressing room. Normally used for making and fabricating outfits for the royals and nobles. Ccino feels his anxiety returns as the maids leave him with the seamstress Sasha. Sasha looks beyond excited as she looks at different outfits.
She hums happily “I am so excited! It is the greatest honour to have been allowed to make your outfit. I made a few options and the current king and future king already expressed their preference!” she smiles brightly as she holds up different outfits “I have a few that were approved upon and I made sure they will fit the decorations!”
Ccino nods as he lets her talk. Everywhere there are flags and banners with little suns on them. The symbol of Dream. A small sun for the golden prince. Dream had been so excited when they picked his symbol when the twins turned ten. Nightmare had been excited about his own symbol in the form of the moon.
Ccino watches as the seamstress pulls out this beautiful dress. Lower back and cuts by the lower part and legs to enable easy movement.
Sasha smiles as she holds it up “I know I know. A dress is the go to but I wanted to try just in case! Please put it on.”
Ccino takes the clothing item and gets dressed. Feeling numb to the exposed feeling by now. He waits on the verdict.
She beams “Oh you are so pretty!” she looks excited as she rushes to the other outfits she laid out “But I think the dress isn’t your fit after all. Don’t get me wrong you look gorgeous but it just doesn’t seem right! It doesn’t show off your best sides well as it is designed to look good on people with more curves.”
Ccino is never sure what people want from him. Some say he is too fat and a glutton. Others say he doesn’t have enough curves. He really tried to do as ordered and only eat and drink what he is supposed to. He doesn’t understand why his body isn’t like they want by now. He swears he tried.
He is so tired.
Sasha brings out this pants and shirt set which feels a bit more comfortable. Ccino doesn’t like how open the back is as it gives him bad memories. The only times his back was uncovered was when they… they…
The shirt itself is very tight around his neck. And shows off most of his spine. The pants themselves hang low on his hip bones. Barely staying up as it is while the pants legs are long and cover him to the ankles.
The seamstress hums as she looks considered “This shows off your skeleton nature much better than the dress did! Your spine is so clean and pretty! I am sure the king would love to be able to see it easily! I will have to make a note of that for any future outfits!” she makes a note as she grabs the next outfit.
The shirt has shoulder pads this time and covers his spine a lot better. The sides are mostly open but it isn’t as short as the other one and it only shows a bit of his lower spine.
Instead of pants this outfit has more of a skirt to it. It still hangs low on his hips but there is a very short tight pants under the skirt to keep it in place. The sides of his legs are almost completely uncovered aside from the tight pants but the skirt part gives him at least the illusion of modesty.
Sasha hums as she looks between the outfits “I think that one is best.” She smiles a t him “Feeling pretty and ready to rock the new king’s world?” she is trying to hype him up.
Ccino gives a small smile and speaks softly “Mostly nervous.” Which is the most truthful and honest thing he can safely say.
She gasps “What? You don’t need to be nervous! He is going to be so happy to see you! You are so pretty he is going to be blown away!”
Ccino doesn’t feel pretty. He just feels sick and uncomfortable. It is so close now. Before he could mostly ignore it but now it is really going to happen. He is going to be promoted from babysitter to sex slave. And there is not a single thing he can do about it. Yet Ccino is the idiot and weird one for not being excited.
He wants to cry.
He takes his seat as the seamstress talks about his make up and what she picked out. It is mostly just some touch up. She mentions that putting much more on would just make him look fake and make him lose his natural beauty.
She disappears to the corner where she opens a locked box. There are golden chains in there. Well, not actually chains but necklaces and bracelets apparently, they may as well be chains though. Ccino watches as the other puts them on him. By his arms. His ribs. One as a choker. She coos and praises how pretty he looks. Ccino doesn’t feel like he is all there anymore.
Heavy steps and moments later the door opens.
The seamstress bows deeply and Ccino looks down as well. Making a bow as far as he can without disrupting any of the work done on him.
A moment of silence before a pleased hum “Good. You got cleaned up and made yourself look presentable. Come. We are about to start.”
As they walk Nim reminds him once more of what his role will be and what he will do. Ccino echoes the instructions back to her when prompted.
He is lead into the throne room and there is a silence. Ccino feels his arm start to shake as he makes his way towards his spot. Ccino tries not to panic.
This is it. There is no turning back now.
Ccino just stands in his spot. Near enough to step forwards when it is his time. Ccino tries not to think about what will happen to him after today. What his life will be after this. Ccino glances around.
There aren’t as many people as he would expect. The only people are the king’s advisors. The captain of the guard and a few extra guards. And Ccino of course.
None of the maids or servants are actually here with them.
Ccino glances around and sees people all getting ready. A priest as well. To perform the crowning of Dream as Nim will be unavailable.
Ccino… Ccino doesn’t like this ritual or what he knows about it.
From what he understand… the king will give up her magic. Make it form something for Dream to take and consume. Consuming the magic will give him powers and magic and the ability to ascend. Then. Once it is time. Something of great emotional importance is supposed to happen. That the magic will guide Dream to do what is needed for him to finish ascending.
Once ascended. Dream will be first crowned to the small select group here and then to the kingdom as a whole.
Ccino is supposed to step forwards when Dream finishes his ritual but before he is crowned. Ccino will join his side and remain there through everything.
Ccino still doesn’t understand how it will affect Dream. All the king ever told him was that Dream would within seconds grow from teen to an adult and all the feelings, knowledge and emotions that came with it would happen all at once. That it would make Dream ready to rule. The ritual would give him the understanding for what happened and how so he can perform it himself when the time is right.
Ccino thinks it isn’t right.
But maybe that is just him. He doesn’t like the magic in this place. His memories still see magic as the voice of his mother singing and some stuff moving on their own to help her with chores. Of his father holding him close and giving a kiss to his little bruises and them feeling better. They told him magic was about joy and love.
Here… they always spoke about rituals and blood and sacrifices. Ccino had seen them sacrifice animals before.
He doesn’t like it.
He hates it.
Ccino had had to clean up cuts on Nightmare’s hands from past rituals. All in preparation. Nightmare had been near tears as it hurt. Ccino remembers telling him that it can’t be actually that good of magic if it hurts him.
Ccino isn’t sure if he was even helping at this point…
Not that it matters… He probably won’t see Nightmare much after this… As he will just… be wherever and whatever Dream wants him to be and do and-
No. Stop. Don’t think about it.
Ccino tries to distract himself.
The hall is decorated with large banners. All with pictures and images of the sun and light. Gold in colour and making the room seem lighter.
Ccino suddenly understands his outfit colour choice. It seems to mirror the colours of a sunrise.
Nim steps out of the side door and walks towards her throne, her mask on her face. She stands before it as the hall is immediately quiet. Moments later Dream and Nightmare walk out together and stand on both of her sides, both wearing their own masks.
Nightmare looks anxious and Ccino manages to catch his eye through the tiny openings of the owl mask. Nightmare seems to relax a little.
That is good.
That is much better.
The King speaks up and her voice sounds out “We are here today. For the next step in our glorious kingdom. As I will ascend to take my rightful place among the stars. As my son will take his own rightful place. A god on this world. Like myself.”
Excitement rises in the room as Nim raises her arms and hands to her chest. And It lights up.
It is scorching hot. It is burning.
The light is bright as Nim holds out the light. It slowly condenses into a single form. A glowing apple. She turns slowly. Her body already starting to fall apart as she starts to dust. Her hand holds out the glowing apple to Dream.
Dream wiggles slightly in place before raising his mask to the top of his face to reveal the big smile before looking serious again as he steps forwards. He holds out his arms and hands.
Nim stands still for a moment before she places the apple in his hands but keeps holding on.
Dream looks determined and nods “Thank you. Mother. May you rise to be above the other gods.”
Nim nods and lets go of the apple. As soon as the contact is gone. She is gone. She falls apart and her mask falls on top of the pile of dust.
The apple is a perfect golden colour. It isn’t shining anymore but it reflects the light beautifully.
Dream steps forwards and smiles “Hello everyone. For this glorious day. As the old king and my mother takes her rightful place among the stars and gods. As I stand before you to claim my own place in the growing history of our family. To make them proud and do as they hava done before me.”
Ccino notices Nightmare looks nervous as he shoots him looks. Ccino gives him a tiny smile and Nightmare seems to relax before he gains a look of focus in those eye lights.
Dream smiles as he raises his arms up high.
Which is when Nightmare rushes him and tackles his brothers. The two twins struggle for a moment before Nightmare manages to grab the apple and take a few steps away.
Dream stares from his spot on the ground in shock “Nightmare?!”
Nightmare doesn’t say anything. He is shaking lightly before Nightmare finds his eye sight again. Nightmare raises his own owl mask to the top of his skull, he takes a deep breath and bites into the apple.
Something in his body changes. Ccino can see an almost hazed look on Nightmare’s face as he bites. And bites. And bites. Eating the apple even if he seems to almost choke on the mouthfuls.
And then the apple is gone. Core and all.
Nightmare stands there for a moment before starting to lean to one side before leaning towards the other. His body shaking. He starts to shake more and more as Nightmare rolls up as he hugs his own form. Then Nightmare starts screaming and sobbing as he falls to his knees.
Ccino feels his own body shake. Ccino feels himself take a step closer.
He is hurt… He needs to…
A guard stops him.
Ccino can’t look away from Nightmare. Nightmare is just shaking and sobbing as he stays on his knees.
A cracking of bones. The ripping of clothing. And large limbs burst out of Nightmare’s back. Ccino sees them move and wriggling around dripping of Nightmare’s blood. But Ccino watches as the red colour darkens little by little until it is a solid black instead. It continues to drip on the ground as Nightmare shudders.
Then he stops. Everything stops. The screaming, the shaking, the sobbing.
Silence.
Nightmare slowly rises to his feet. The goop moving and dripping slowly off his form to drip on the ground. Nightmare looks around the room. His clothes ripped in many places as parts of it remain on the ground covered with that same sticky black goop that used to be red and liquid and his blood.
“How could you!?”
Nightmare blinks and turns to stare at Dream. Dream glares at him as he shakes with pure rage.
Dream screams “How could you?!”
Nightmare however doesn’t react. He just keeps staring at his brother. Ccino… Ccino doesn’t like the look on his face. It is the same look as with the apple… Ccino also doesn’t like the look on Dream’s face. The open rage and anger.
Dream knows magic. Nightmare does not.
Ccino doesn’t think and rushes away from his spot. The guard who had a hold on him before had let go in shock. Ccino side steps any hands as he rushes to the raised platform and thrones. He rushes up the stairs and gets between the twins. Holding hands up to both of them as he gives them both a strict look “No fighting.” He would have wanted his voice to be louder. But he can’t. Even now he can’t shout at either of them. He never could.
Dream looks away with angry tears in his eyes. Nightmare freezes as he stares at him. Ccino looks back at him.
His face isn’t the same anymore. The sockets are all wrong and the eye lights aren’t right either. Nightmare is much taller and doesn’t look in anyway like he did. The magic that he emits is even different.
But… the angle of those shoulders… Nightmare is scared and confused.
Ccino needs to get them somewhere else. He needs to get them out of view of others. They need to calm down and they need to figure out what is next. Was… Was Nightmare instructed by Nim to eat the apple after all? But… that doesn’t make sense?
No. Focus. No use trying to figure stuff out when it isn’t the priority. Get the twins to the back. Get them situated.
Ccino takes a deep breath before turning towards the waiting crowd with a smile on his face. He makes sure to tugs his hands behind the small of his back as he speaks with his cheerful people pleasing voice “We will be in the back to clean up before we continue. Please excuse our new king and the crown prince for just a moment.” And he bows deeply before shooting Dream a look and motioning towards the back.
Dream still looks angry but does as told as he moves towards the back. Ccino rises and gives a deep bow to Nightmare “My lord?” Nightmare is king now… right? so he should do this?
Nightmare looks bothered. It isn’t the same face he pulls but it is the same reaction as before. At least that look from the apple is gone. He just looks confused and overwhelmed. Nightmare moves towards the back without a single glance into anyone’s direction. Ccino uses the general confusion to rush into the room after them.
Okay. Okay.
What now?
The room is quiet as Dream continues to glare at Nightmare. Nightmare frowns at him as he raises a hand “Dream… I…” he shakes his skull as that glint in his eye lights returns before he manages to shake it.
Dream glares as he shakes “How could you! I trusted you! Everyone always said you just wanted the throne! I defended you! Said you would never betray me! Yet you do?!” angry tears appear in his sockets as he glares.
Nightmare shakes his skull again. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to. I…” He frowns. So confused.
The door slams open and Ccino notices Nightmare flinch at the sound before Ccino is grabbed and turned around. Captain Falks is there glaring “What the fuck did you do?!”
Ccino blinks as two more guards join them. Ccino looks back at Nightmare and Dream “I… I got them out of sight? Stopped them from fighting.”
Falks groans “Yes! That is the problem! You stopped the ritual!”
Ccino feels any insecurity and nerves leave him as it replaces him with rage “Of course I did?! In case you didn’t notice! It went terrible! Of course I got them out of sight and calm before they could hurt each other!”
Captain Falks glares “The leftover prince was never supposed to take the apple! This is a disaster! He was supposed to just be there for the future King of Light Dream!” Falks glares at the twins before glaring at Ccino again “This is a mess and you made it worse.”
Ccino flinches as he looks to the side “What is done is done… We need to be quick…” he glances back and can’t help but notice that Nightmare is very much barely dressed at this point as he ripped out of his clothing and Dream is overdressed with the too large clothing. Swimming in the bright orange cape and the softer coloured dress pants and shirt. Ccino nods to himself “We will need to get them both ready quickly. A new outfit for King Nightmare is a must. He can’t be crowned when he is barely dressed. Dream will need cloths that are form fitted for him now instead of how he could have been.” His mind is racing as he looks over to the two guards behind Falks.
It are cadet Rogers and Cadet Miles. Okay. Ccino has seen them before and they are both ambitious but are loyal to the crown. Ccino looks at Miles “Miss Miles. Can you get back to the hall and keep the people calm? We may need more refreshments for them.” Miles gives a nod and Ccino focuses on Rogers “Cadet Rogers. We need to make sure we aren’t bothered. Can you make sure to stand guard?” Cadet Rogers nods with a salute and moves to the door together with cadet Miles. Ccino looks at Falks “Captain. We need the priest to remain here and remain ready to crown Nightmare and vow him in. While I get the prince and king ready you need to go to the priest and give him a small update that Nightmare will be sworn in instead-”
Falks glares “Who do you think you are to order me and my guards around?”
Ccino freezes before giving him a look “We need to act quickly and adapt to the change.”
Falks huffs as he looks disgusted “I will not serve a fake king.”
A moment of silence and shock goes through Ccino. He also feels… rejected? Dejected? It doesn’t make sense. Ccino instead focusses on the moment “How is he a fake king?”
Falks huffs “You are an idiot. He was never meant to be king. He was there to make sure that Dream would rise to his rightful place. Not be a useless and jealous brat and take it for himself! He didn’t even finish the ritual!”
Ccino glares “He did.”
Falks smirks “Oh believe me. He did not.”
Ccino glares as he starts to recount what he knows “He ate the apple. Legends speak that anyone unworthy of absorbing the magic would perish. Nightmare survived and was able to gain the power it gave. Meaning the magic decided him worthy.” Falks blinks but Ccino continues “Nightmare is a son of the old king Nim just like Dream. Are you really disrespecting the royal bloodline?” Falks looks a lot more worried. Ccino goes for the finishing blow “Not to forget. The ritual spoke of a large betrayal. I do believe. That eating the apple and betraying his twin would count as such.”
Ccino may not agree with any of these thought and believes followed by these people. But he knows how to speak their language and play their game. “That means. That our new king is Nightmare. Who completed the ritual.”
Falks suddenly looks a lot more unsure before he hisses to Ccino “You best remember your place slave. And if I had it my way I would show it to your personally. Your pretty face can’t save you from all the consequences.”
Ccino doesn’t feel fear. He just feels rage. “Oh I remember my place just fine. My duty, as ordered by the old king, is to be by the new king’s side and help him in any way I can. I am doing exactly as I was instructed. I think it is time you remember your own oaths and vows Captain. As you are supposed to protect, guard and serve the ruling king yourself.”
Falks glares harshly at him “When this is over. I will take great pleasure in punishing you and your bratty mouth. Seems like the last twenty I gave you did not make much of an impression. Maybe with fifty lashes you will learn your place.”
Ccino raises a brow “Ask our king when it is calm. We both have our duties. Yours should be to make sure everything in the hall is still fine so we can move on to the coronation.” Ccino glares at him “The priest needs to be informed as I prepare our king.”
There is a silence in the room. The two cadets stare at Ccino and their captain but Ccino doesn’t care. He knows he will be in trouble for this. A lot of trouble and he does not enjoy knowing he will be punished later for ignoring the hierarchy and rules.
But Nightmare needs him now. Even if Nightmare doesn’t seem the same. It is still Nighty. Ccino used to tug him into bed with a bedtime story. Ccino used to cut both Nightmare’s and Dream’s food into tiny pieces to make eating easier for them.
Ccino is not going to fail them now because some stupid birdbrain decided he wanted to try a powerplay when there is a crisis.
Falks breaks their eye contact first. He huffs as he walks to the door and hisses “Do what he says. We need to serve our king.” And he leaves the room. The two cadets follow.
Ccino glances back at the twins and is happy to note both seem too distracted to have noticed the captain trying his silly powerplay. The twins are just staring at each other and seemingly lost in their own world.
Ccino nods as he rushes to the wall. He finds the servants pathway and sneaks a look inside. Okay! Perfect! A sewing kit! He grabs it and takes it back inside before ringing the bell and leaving a message that he needs cloths in the colours of deep purple, dark blue, cyan or black stat. He goes back inside and looks around.
Now. What can he use to fix this mess? He searches the room and pulls out any tools he can find. Ccino knows that his fellow servants and maids all stash items all around the castle. To use when in need without having to travel far.
He manages to pull one of the large sun banners down and starts sewing it into a more casual tunic dress fit before managing to find a brown belt to help give it shape. He goes to Dream’s side and checks the cape and clothes he is wearing. Okay he can let Dream still wear the large cape as it will go well.
Ccino pushes the clothes into his arms “Here. I am sorry it is rushed work. This will fit better.”
Dream stares before glaring as his sockets fill with tears “No! This… this isn’t supposed to be like this!” Dream glares at Nightmare “How could you?!”
Oh no not again.
Nightmare looks at Dream and that slight edge is back again “I just… I needed… I just wanted…” Each time Nightmare tries to speak he seems to stop as soon as he hears his own voice. Shock obvious on his face.
Dream glares “I can’t believe you would betray me! I trusted you! I thought we were a team!”
Nightmare looks so sad “We are…”
Dream shakes his skull.
Which is when Sera walks in. Great. This day just went from bad to horrible. And that is impressive as Ccino had believed he would become a sex slave.
Sera glares at him “Why are you making orders and what is going on?!”
Ccino just takes the fabric she brought and gets to work sewing quickly. He can’t make it complex or too detailed but anything fitting will be better than Nightmare being crowned while naked “Prince Nightmare ate the apple. I am preparing him for his coronation as quickly as I can.”
Sera looks shocked before frowning “You should not be this involved! Step aside as I will do so instead.”
Ccino shoots her a look “And what role gives you this right?”
Sera glares “I am the head of the servants! Including you!”
Ccino can’t help but smile brightly as he answers “Actually. As you very often told me. I am not a part of the servants. I am one of the king’s loyals.” He smiles brightly as he enjoys the shock on her face “And as you often told me. I don’t belong in your group.”
She sputters and glares “You have some nerve! You are nothing but a toy! Something to throw aside when the king is done with you!”
Ccino nods “Of course. But that is the king’s decision.” He makes sure to smile pleasantly “And you wouldn’t go against the king’s will… would you?”
Sera is seething but nods “I wouldn’t.”
Ccino nods “Good. Now. The guests will be forced to wait a little longer. I am sure they would appreciate some extra refreshments and food.” This time he downright smirks as he shoots her a look “After all. Your performance will reflect on all of us.”
Sera is furious. Ccino knows why of course. She must not enjoy Ccino echoing her own words back at her.
Sera nods before leaving the room.
Ccino checks his hands and is happy to note he got the basics done. This will sadly have to do. He walks over to Nightmare “My lord? May I help you?”
Nightmare blinks slowly at him before nodding “Yes.” He remains still as Ccino puts the newly made shirt over his head and carefully moves the slits he made in place. The tendrils move easily through it and seem to brush against his side and Ccino shudders. The goop is cool and sticks slightly. Still. He moves with purpose as he gets Nightmare into his new shirt. It is a bit too tight for the other and Nightmare frowns as he looks down at it. Ccino starts messing with the seams as he tries to gain a bit more room for Nightmare to move around in.
Ccino eventually needs to abandon that as he has to focus on the other parts. The cloak he made is easy in design and has a hood attached for Nightmare to use if needed. He quickly stitches in the familiar pattern of the moon phases at the button and around the neck before putting it over his shoulders.
Shit. The normal strings would just not be impressive enough.
Come on think. Think. Think.
Ccino sees a glimmer of gold and looks down. His jewellery!
Ccino quickly undoes the chain around his neck and clips each end on the cape. It works and gives it a nice shine. Mmh.
Ccino is quick to remove all his bracelets and other gold items as he moves around Nightmare. Putting some on the tendrils, which seem to really like wrapping around his arm or leaning against him. Ccino gives them gentle pats each time he needs to move or he removes them.
At the end his own clothes are much darker thanks to all the goop but Nightmare looks at least a little bit like a king. Ccino hopes that the distance from the others will be large enough that it isn’t obvious that this is a very bad patch job but he did what he could.
Ccino nods as he grabs a spare outfit for himself and quickly changes. No longer the very clear offering but at this point Ccino thinks the best thing to do is to get the whole day over with before trying to pull everything back together.
Ccino nods to the twins as he speaks “Okay! That is all I can do. If we take much longer they will become impatient and we don’t need them to be mad.” It is scary how easy it is for him to fall back into this role. How natural it always felt to speak to them as babysitter, caretaker and, he only dares to think it, older brother. Even with Nightmare now being a deity it still feels natural. It feels easy.
“We will go out to the throne room and the guards will open the doors. More people will watch as the priest crowns Nightmare. After that they will party but it is fine if you two retire for the night at that point.”
Dream glares “Nightmare shouldn’t be crowned! I should be!”
Ccino flinches as he looks between the twins. Making sure to keep his voice calm as he speaks “I know Dream. But I don’t think anyone will accept that. Not while the ritual and powers accepted Nightmare…” because that is what happened. Even if people seem to refuse to see it. According to all the rules known of the ritual. Nightmare completed each step. He has a new form and new power. He was accepted and ascended. Both to king and to be a god.
Ccino doesn’t know if there are private rules he doesn’t know but he wouldn’t even know who would know. So this is the situation they have at the moment.
Dream shakes his skull and slaps Ccino’s hand away. Yeah he figured. Ccino doesn’t take it personally. “It is wrong!” Dream glares at Nightmare.
Nightmare still has this glint in his sockets but each time he stares for too long at Dream, Ccino can see that Nightmare also focusses on him and the glint disappears.
Ccino focusses on Dream as he tries to calm the other down “I know you are angry Dream. But please. We don’t have time to discuss this and-”
Dream shakes his skull “I don’t care!” he glares at Nightmare “How could you!”
Nightmare’s tendrils slowly rise “I don’t…”
Dream doesn’t listen and his hand finds an old bust and he swings it right against Nightmare’s skull. A loud crack of stone and bones as the bust falls to pieces.
Silence before shock overtakes any emotion Ccino feels. Ccino rushes over as Nightmare slowly rises to his full height. His new tendrils sharpening and rising themselves.
Ccino gets to them and stands between them again “No! Both of you stop that. Dream! You know better than attacking your brother.” He shoots Dream a look.
Dream shakes as tears run down his angry face “He stole my future!”
Ccino shoots him a disapproving look “And you just hit him with a stone bust.” He sighs as turns towards the door to see it slightly open. Of course this guy is listening in. Whatever! Ccino speaks loudly “Cadet Rogers. Bring Dream to his room and stand guard. Make sure no one can bother the prince as the prince remains inside the room.”
Dream sputters “You can’t! You can’t do that!”
Ccino gives him a disapproving look “You are hurting. I know that. But you hurting is not an excuse to hurt others. You know your brother better than anyone and you should know that he would never hurt you unless he had a very good reason for it or had to. Instead of trying to communicate you attacked him. For this reason it is best to separate you two while we move on with the coronation.”
Dream shakes in rage as he looks down “I was supposed to be king.”
Ccino doesn’t feel good about this. But too much is counting on this. They can work on mending their relationship when Nightmare has the crown and people remain loyal. Than they can talk and relax. Cadet Rogers takes the prince away to his room and Ccino turns to Nightmare.
He only now realises that he had his back to Nightmare the whole time. That he had his back to someone who had his tendrils sharpened moments ago. But Nightmare looks calm and… he is leaning against the hand Ccino had held out to signal Nightmare to stay back. Ccino hadn’t even noticed as he tried to manage Dream.
Ccino checks his outfit once more before checking the skull. He can’t see anything. The goop is all liquid and hiding everything and Ccino isn’t sure if he can wipe it away safely “Nightmare? Does it hurt?” They are alone now. Ccino is too distraught to bother with titles unless he has to. Which he will have to in a few minutes.
Nightmare keeps staring at his hand “He… attacked me…”
Ccino frowns and nods “I know… I am sorry…” he should have expected something like this. He should have made sure they were both safe. He just… he hadn’t thought… He should have considered this a possibility as Dream had been hurt by this.
Nightmare shakes slightly.
Ccino feels so bad for this “Nightmare. I know this is a lot but we can’t wait. People are waiting and have high expectations. You need to be crowned. Do you understand?”
Nightmare is quiet for a moment before nodding.
Ccino sighs “Good… good.” He makes sure to stand tall “Let’s get to work.” And he leads Nightmare out.
-----
Ccino is exhausted. The whole day had been exhausting and Ccino isn’t even sure if he can still recall everything that happened. Ccino just…
He just wants to sleep.
He rolls up in his bed. Now dressed in PJs as he tugs his blanket around. It is much too late for him. But he will need to be up early tomorrow to help Night- their king get ready for his first official day as king. Not to forget he needs to visit prince Dream and make sure he is okay.
Ccino is so tired and-
A knock on his door.
Ccino frowns. That is unusual. He walks towards his door and glances through the keyhole. He stares in shock before opening the door wide and bowing “My king. What do I own you this visit?”
His king stands there. A frown on his face “My… My mother’s room feels… wrong… I can’t sleep there. Dream hates me and does not wish to share his room. I wanted to sleep with you.” He still struggles with his sentences.
Ccino feels his soul freeze for a moment with the last part but he can see Nightmare means it literally. He doesn’t want to be alone.
Ccino isn’t sure why he can still read Nightmare just like he used to. You would think that Ccino lost that skill when Nightmare gained a new body. But even if the body is different. Even with his face being different. Ccino can still read him like he always does.
Ccino nods “Of course. Please come in.” he holds the door open and Nightmare walks in. He stands in the middle of the room seemingly lost.
Right. He doesn’t have any clothes in his new size. Ccino adds that to the mental to do list for tomorrow as well. Making sure their king has clothes that actually fit him. For now Ccino opens his drawer and searches it. He has a few oversized dress shirts and hopes it is big enough. He hands one over to Nightmare.
Nightmare looks at it before undressing and dressing in the clothing item. Ccino grabbed a spare pillow from the cabinet in the hall before throwing that on his bed as well.
It takes a moment but then they are both in Ccino’s bed. Nightmare gives a full body shudder and tugs his face and skull right by Ccino’s neck and shoulder.
Ccino has the strongest sense of déjà vu. Of when Nightmare was much smaller and he had night terrors. How Nightmare would use the servants tunnels to get to his room and climb into his bed at night. How they would make little blanket forts on days when everyone told Nightmare he wasn’t good enough. How Nightmare would climb into his bed when he was sad.
Nightmare… Nightmare may not look or feel or sound like the Nightmare Ccino knows. But it is still Nightmare. It is still his little Nighty.
Ccino hugs the large being closer “Sshh… it is okay… I am here.”
Nightmare shakes and shudders “Please… Please stay… I am so scared…”
Ccino tightens his hold on the other and holds him close “I am here Nighty. I swear on my soul.”
That seems to do it as Nightmare just holds unto him tightly. Tight enough that Ccino can feel his nails grip into his back. Ccino can feel those new tendrils circle him and hold him closely. Ccino just keeps holding unto Nightmare, keeps him in an embrace.
Eventually Nightmare falls asleep. Ccino can’t even find it in himself to care about the rumours this will cause. About the rumours that will follow after Nightmare leaves Ccino’s room.
Ccino doesn’t care. He will help and assist Nightmare. Everything will be alright.
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(sees the moon) just like promise of wizard....
#stardust speaking !#how many times have i made this post........ajdjqksklwd#if uve ever wondered what to bring up to akira. they stare at the moon a lot. and linger around things about/portraying wizards or magic#the easiest: cats#⚠️this applies to every verse thats not mhyk itself⚠️ (the first two. akiras staring at cats in mhyk too#i wanna talk nonsense about akira again but im soooo tired.....#anyhow got to play anb today<3 read the guys heart events (i think im gonna go watch them at some point...)#so much rudeness in this game LOLLL#but also rod having the cat & dog suit as fav clothing LOLLL akira would also find those cute.......#allens made me laugh like dudeeee#been thinking about brad too...lov everytime akira calls him boss LOL whether its from trying to put him in a good mood or from being moved
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it’s finally getting cold enough that i can bring my cardigan collection back into rotation without feeling like i’m gonna melt into a puddle the second i step outside!!!
#Seven.txt#my face#i have rematerialized back out of the void to once again make my once-in-a-blue-moon selfie & life update post#i’m running on 4 hours of restless sleep and the single banana i ate for lunch earlier today. let’s do this#hrrrrg i hate the lighting in my bathroom but i refuse to take pictures in the absolute Mental Illness Disaster Zone™️ that is my bedroom#anyways. got diagnosed with Mystery Pain Syndrome at the dentist today. so now i take ✨steroids✨#the less funny explanation is that my tooth still hurts with pressure nearly a month post-root canal and That’s Not Good#so we’re trying some new medications to see if that fixes it. and if not then who knows. root canal pt.2 the sequel. or extraction. sigh#and so the Dental Saga continues. todays visit went quite well in spite of the unforeseen mystery pain delaying the tooth-shaving plans#we had some time to kill so he managed to fill some of my other tiny cavities while i was there today so that’s good#okay moving on. what else. uhh. OH they finally came out and ran the fiber to the house last week!!! now i’m just waiting on one more-#-guy to come and finish the interior install and the long awaited fast internet will finally be mine eheheheheeeee#now i can feel my hours upon hours of unedited gameplay footage breathing down my neck :)#man i’ve got so much stuff piled up right now. i’m drowning in Tasks and it’s a lil overwhelming but i’ll handle it all! eventually#uhhhhm my current writing project is coming along well! i’ve never put so much time and effort into a oneshot before in my life#its a labor of love though and i think i’m gonna be really proud of myself (and the fic) once it’s complete#even if no one reads it bc it’s so goddamn self indulgent and kinda lowkey throws canon out the window but like. fuck it!#if i want Astarion to write a song on piano and perform it for me while mentally taking me on a trip down memory lane. then so be it#fr though i’ve never written anything quite like this and i rlly want to do it justice. even if its unrealistic i still want it to be Good#in other news i received word that one of the chickens i sponsor at my local Gentle Barn has passed away so i had a lil cry abt that#i feel so bad for his little tiny chicken wife. they obviously loved each other and it’s like. so sad when one half of an old couple dies#like. she pulled him out of his depression after his 1st wife died. now who’s gonna be there to pull Her out…#anyways let’s not get all sad about that again. in happier news my cat who i presumed died/got killed has returned home uninjured!!!#after that huge stray dog chased her into the woods i thought we’d never find or see her again#but then the morning after i started grieving her she showed back up hungry as hell yet completely unharmed like the enigma that she is#so that’s one definite highlight from earlier this month. uhh what else. rapid fire summary of the past few weeks let’s go-#Jersey turned 10! Bullet turned 10! my 6 year Veganniversary happened! i’m approaching 700 days on DuoLingo!#i’ve written more than 20 thousand words! i’ve been facing some fears! fighting my OCD! taking care of myself! (kinda!)#anyways things are far from being all sunshine and roses around here but i’m trying to focus on the good stuff for the most part#for now tho i have a headache and have reached 30 tags so it’s time to go shovel some mashed potatoes into my mouth :)
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Last reblog made me realize, and I know a lot of those aged **Very Poorly**, but I should look into Looney Tunes and other cartoons of the time, I watched a lot of these growing up and I was wondering if their humor still holds up
#i moostly watched LT but i really liked some of the disney ones like the intructional video parodies with goofy#i also used to watch woody woodpecker but even as a kid i reached a point i was done with these lol#it was less that woody was good and more my child brain going 'wow!!!! colors moving!!!!!'#by the time i was old enough even i was starting to go 'goddamn these are Not As Good as the other series'#then again i can just watch sailor moon#which also didn't age super well but pro'bly wasn't as racist#and it has Girls Kicking Ass™️#something young gui very much enjoyed and watched Not That Good shows like totally spies because they had it#sadly the only magical girl anime i watched as a kid was sakura card captors#which i liked a lot but sadly also depended on me catching it randomly airing on tv#also when i say sailor moon didn't age super well i mean shit like the earlier episodes including fatphobia not that the show isn't good
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slamming my fists against the floor like an animal thinkinh abt dadfario
#marlena isnt rlly innnn rog that much so grus home life seems sortof sanitised but likeeee even still gru says she wouldnt care abt him bein#kidnapped. and would actively pay them to keep him#so like even in jokes .. this is still bad#and yeah plus shes not around. she doent even notice gru is GONE for at least like a day. and only realises bc they get attacked by v6#i did actually kinda change my mind abt wk dying. i think it works well enough even tho the moon stuff is a bit silly#also strange that its kinda ambiguous if he actually trains gru or not. we dont see him again after the funeral even tho they leave togethe#sure gru knows some fight moves but he cld also have learnt them from chow. who he DOES stay in contact with#ig my current idea is that he trains gru a littleeee on the downlow cus hes. supposed to be dead#but like hea old and got fucked by the fire sooooo. oops. goodbye granpa#idk how longgg. its kinda weird#seems gru partners w nefario IMMEDIATELY cus hes still packing up the shop.#maybeee actually its moreso. wk gives him some Sage Wisdom and then fucks off into hiding for a while until he dies#like retired. i guess that wld be nice seeing as his crew and henchmen both left him LOL#ANYYYYYWAYY. back to the topic at hand.#while u clddd say wk is a father figure to gru they dont rlly spend enough time together to rlly be like that. whereas nefario sees gru all#the way thru to adulthood#Yeahh… his dadddddd.#ignore me being mentally ill its just very cathartic to me imagining a little guyyy getting loved properly for the first time#and not treated as weird and listened to anddddd getting to do nice things togetger#mannn tho nefario was sooo chill and nice when he was young … makes me wonder what hsppened to make him LikeThat in the first film#coming from a guy who was on the brink of retiring from villainy. to then sacrifice grus happiness for a scheme#ig u cld say he saw it as better for gru in the long run. being able to earn back some respect from the villain community#and selfishly nefario himself#buttttt idk its too late for thst. im tiredddd#all i know is. nefario adopted one kid and one million yellow thangs. and life is so beautiful
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