#almost companion: round 1

[companion-showdown]

Who do you most wish had become a companion?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

[dwsidecharacterpoll]

all round 1 votes can be found here send obnoxious opinions on side characters to here please reblog and kvetch about why your fave isn't winning

[mayspicer]

Ok, the boss is no more! There were some super stressful moments but surprisingly we all survived o:

My animal companion got hit with disintegrate, but we had hero points to make him avoid it. I would cry actually, because disintegrate means no resurrection x_x

The war is prevented! At least this one, because Cayden's party is right at the center of a much bigger one just starting. Today we saved the country. Cayden is trying to not even save the whole world, just maybe slow the whole thing down and save as much people as possible...

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (if you squint), a lot of cussing (typical of bkg), reader has an ex-boyfriend, reader is alluded to being smaller than bkg, some violence (nothing major)

words. 3.3k (this kind of got away from me)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

You don’t know how you got here, really.

Actually, you do. And you’re slowly regretting every decision that has led you to this moment by the minute.

But alas—here you are, watching Bakugou (or rather, his expensive ass sports car) pull over in front of your apartment.

And you’re about to say screw it and go back inside and just text him you don’t feel too well as if you weren’t just at the front door a second ago when your boss finally steps out of the driver’s seat.

Now you’ve seen Bakugou dressed up on numerous occasions. Never as his date or companion—hell, no—but you’ve witnessed him dressed up to the 9’s enough to reach the point of not getting affected at the sight of him in a suit and his hair pushed back.

But you can’t help the sudden tightness in your throat when you do see him.

He walks up to the porch and stops a few feet away from you and almost immediately, he gives you a once-over. Despite yourself, you look down at your heeled feet, suddenly feeling overly self-conscious. Or maybe it’s also to stop yourself from staring at him because damn.

And you hate yourself for it.

It’s his voice, though, that pulls you out of your hazy stupor. “Are you hopping in are we just gonna stand here all night?”

You internally roll your eyes as you follow him to his car, feet already starting to hurt even though you literally just put the heels on a few minutes ago. You’re about to open the door to the backseat when Bakugou stops you with one hand and opens the door to the passenger side with the other.

You look up at him in question, although you quickly look away, unable to keep eye contact any longer, and shuffle in. “You really don’t have to do—that—” he shuts the door, “okay.”

He rounds the hood of his car and settles on his seat soon after. As he brings the engine to life and tinkers with the Bluetooth, you take the opportunity to take in the interior of his car. Needless to say, it is immaculate—this being the first time you’ve ever been here as you’ve always declined any offer from him to drive you home.

Why is that?

You’d chalk it up to feeling uncomfortable about your boss giving you a lift, especially as the HR head, but deep inside you know it’s more because being in a small space with him (alone, especially) makes you just a tad bit crazy.

Just a bit.

Since when has this been a thing?

Shrugging off the rather unsettling thought, you intentionally bring your mind to other things, like how nice the car smells—or how your hair and makeup ended up exceeding your expectations. You’re in the middle of appreciating how smooth Bakugou’s driving is when it hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Hold up—” you turn to him in horror, “you’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

At that, Bakugou’s face contorts in what you think is offense before it morphs into a snark expression, like he’s about to retort with a playful quip but decides against it last minute.

“No.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slump against your seat, relieved. You can’t believe you forgot to ask about this crucial piece of information prior to agreeing to this ruse.

A foreign kind of curiosity—the type that you haven’t felt in a while—suddenly takes seed and blooms in you, particularly about Bakugou and his romantic life. But you quickly tamp it down before you blurt out a wildly inappropriate personal question to your boss.

The second Bakugou puts the car in park, you hurriedly climb out of the passenger seat, not minding how ungraceful you look, desperate to get out of the small bubble you’ve found yourself sharing with your boss for the last hour.

Quickly scanning your surroundings, you find that there aren’t many people in the parking lot—perhaps it’s because of the fact that you’re cutting it close, which was totally not a conscious decision so that you’d spend the least amount of time at the wedding as possible—but as you two walk in silence towards the venue entrance, you start noticing it.

You feel people holding their gazes directed towards the both of you a little longer than normal. You try to shrug it off, but even as you state your name to the kind-looking lady who you believe is assigned to usher guests to their seats, you’re acutely aware that a silence has befallen upon the room and it’s your arrival that has caused it.

And you’d bet good money you saw in your peripheral vision a few do a double-take upon seeing you.

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her shock upon seeing the number two pro-hero. Eyes wide as saucers, she barely stammers out his pro-hero name in what you believe is a…question?

Bakugou, the ever-skilled PR prince that he is, merely gives her a curt and somehow pained nod, as if this exchange is yards beneath him. “That’s me. My name’s probably not on the list, though,” he gestures to you, “I’m just her plus one.”

With that, it’s as if the lady just got reminded that you were standing just right beside him and that you existed.

“Oh, of course!” Her eyes dart toward you and then back at him and suddenly her eyeballs are akin to that of the toy in a pinball machine—darting between the two of you in record speed, the gears in her head turning as if processing what the fuck this lowly guest is doing, showing up with the Dynamight to a wedding.

“Sorry,” she chuckles, probably feeling self-conscious in front of the man, “what was your name again?”

You repeat yourself with the most gracious smile you can muster. You can’t blame the woman for slightly losing her cool in front of the boss. The only reason you’re not stumbling and embarrassing yourself in front of him is because you’ve had practice.

In fact, three years and eight months worth of it.

But that practice practically flies out the window when you feel something brush against your right hand before encasing it entirely.

You look down at the point of sensation and it takes everything in you not to gawk at the sight of Bakugou’s big, firm hand wrapped around yours. You immediately whip your head to look up at him, but the guy isn’t even looking at you. Instead, he seems to be listening intently to what the lady is saying that’s a hundred percent going in one of your ears and out the other.

“…f-follow me—right this way, p-please!”

You stumble behind him as he leads you to where the lady is directing the both of you, hands still interlocked.

“What are you doing?” you hiss-whisper, keeping your voice low enough to make sure she doesn’t hear you panic.

“I’m saving your life, dumbass,” he hisses back.

Saving your life? The man is giving you a damn heart attack. And making you the target of the thousands of news outlets known to man.

“Oh, do tell me how that’s so?”

Although you can’t see his face as he’s practically dragging you forward by your now clammy appendage, you’re 99% sure he’s rolling his eyes. “It’s ‘cause people are fucking staring.”

“So naturally you have to hold my hand?”

He halts to an immediate stop and you almost collide with his backside if not for your marginally quick enough reflexes. He scowls at you over his shoulder and it shocks you to see how red he’s gotten over a reasonable question from your end.

It’s not like you just asked him why he’s number two or something.

“Yes, I do, if we want a shot at making this the slightest bit believable.”

Before you even get the chance to respond (that is, grumble at him like a petulant child because the motherfucker is making sense—like he always is), you get interrupted.

“Is everything alright?”

Both of you quickly face the lady who you find is trying not to let the concern get to her already wobbly smile.

She’s failing.

“Yeah!”

“Yup.”

At that, she nods, although she seems to be suspicious—hesitant, at best. “Well, then—these are your seats. Enjoy the wedding!”

The ceremony couldn’t have been more dragged out if they tried. They probably had a dozen technical difficulties. The flower girls who were literal toddlers refused to walk down the aisle and had to be hauled by their parents to get it done and over with. The officiator was so irritatingly loud that he didn’t even need a microphone from the sheer volume of his booming voice. And you could tell he was going over the time limit because the wedding coordinators at the perimeters of the venue were getting more and more antsy by the minute.

Bakugou, who was seated on your right, was not fairing any better. You lost count of the times his head bobbed toward you as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He’s been sleep-deprived the entire week—you knew that. A notorious villain has recently resurfaced and he and Kirishima were the police’s primary contacts for this case. Suddenly feeling guilty for having inadvertently dragged him to this snoozefest with you, you debated whether or not to tell him he can rest on your shoulder so he can get some rest but immediately decided against it because what the fuck.

Eventually, and miraculously, you get past the ceremony relatively unscathed. Well, as far as unscathed in this situation can get.

You managed to avoid your ex’s sights the entire time. Luckily, you and Bakugou were assigned at a far-away table alongside distant friends and relatives—courtesy of the bride, probably, and really, you couldn’t be more thankful. By the time picture-taking per table rolled around, you conveniently excused yourself to the bathroom and waited it out until you were sure your group’s time was up. When you sheepishly walked back to your table, Bakugou didn’t seem to be too comfortable, probably from having been left alone, but from the look in his eyes, you could tell he knew what you were doing and why you did it. Despite his appearances, he’s perceptive like that.

With only a few, necessary words exchanged between the two of you, and the occasional smiles and affectionate behavior whenever either of you felt prying eyes, you eventually find yourself finally loosening up and relaxing.

In contrast to the past few hours in which you were evidently tense and barely managed to join in on small talk around you, you’re now actually conversing with your table-mates who, thankfully, haven’t asked you how you were related to the bride and groom.

Bakugou probably notices this change in demeanor because you spot him eyeing you with a serious look on his face before cooly looking away as if you didn’t just catch him studying you.

Before you can think much of the expression on his face, the young woman seated across from you who you’ve gotten to know as Kairi says your name, effectively snapping you out of thought.

Right before dousing you with ice water with a supposedly innocent question.

“Sorry—what?”

She chuckles harmlessly, paying no mind to your reaction. “I said, how do you know the bride and the groom?”

Shit.

“I—uh,” against your will, you chance a look at Bakugou who’s already looking at you with a seemingly neutral expression, although you’ve been around him long enough to see the traces of panic adorning his features.

A few more seconds pass by in silence before you decide to just tell the truth.

You laugh, although it comes out a bit stilted. “I’m actually an ex-girlfriend…”

Unsurprisingly, everyone at the table goes quiet at your admission, before they seemingly remember to put up appearances by laughing good-naturedly with you.

“Well, good on you for showing up!” Kairi says, giving you a thumbs up. The rest of the group pack on their agreement and support. She eyes Bakugou with a mischievous grin, “And with precious cargo, too.”

Her friends elbow her in chastisement, and you can’t help the flush that takes over your face at her unabashed flirting. You chance a glance at the man in question, only to find him acting like he couldn’t give a single fuck.

You’re about to pipe up with a genuine compliment in Bakugou’s way, lest they end up thinking you don’t agree that “your man” is fine as fuck (and isn’t this the part where a person is supposed to brag about their partner?) when a silence befalls upon your table again.

Only this time is more awkward than the last.

“What..?”

You follow Kairi’s line of vision and turn to look at the thing behind you that’s caught their attention only to find yourself face-to-face with him.

He exclaims your name—like he’s delighted to see you—before scooping you up and bringing you into his arms.

You collide with his chest with an unceremonious ‘oof’ and despite yourself, you toss Bakugou a look (cry) for help over the guy’s shoulder.

And like the hero that he is, Bakugou stands up smoothly, buttoning his suit all the while.

Clearing his throat, he shoots your ex a stony glare while offering a hand to shake. “Good to meet ‘ya. I’m Bakugou, her boyfriend.”

A whirlwind of emotions dances across the guy’s face before they finally settle into one that causes scalding shame to stir within your gut: utter disbelief.

“My bunny got herself a boyfriend?” You cringe at the sound of your old pet name, and Bakugou’s glare turns even colder at the mention of it. You try to ignore the hurt that’s springing in your chest at your ex’s incredulous tone.

The guy’s eyes dart between the two of you before they finally settle on your boss. “And that person is you?”

As if he couldn’t get higher on the asshole meter, your ex drops his head back as he howls in laughter, as if he just heard the funniest joke ever. You feel your face flame in humiliation, and it’s as if you get possessed for the next few seconds.

Because in the blink of an eye, you find yourself clenching your fist so hard and bringing it up to the asshole’s face, where it collides with his jaw with a loud crack.

Almost instantaneously, you recoil and bring your hand back to yourself because that shit hurt, and fuck, you just punched a guy.

At his wedding.

You don’t know what comes over you because the first thing you do is not apologize to the guy who’s writhing in pain on the floor or look at the people who are most probably already watching the scene. No, the first thing you do is whip to look at Bakugou, who’s now grinning at you.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you grab your purse with one hand, Bakugou’s hand with the other, and toss your dickhead of an ex a ‘have a great rest of your wedding’ before beelining out of there and straight to the car of the man whose hand you’re holding.

“I—”

“Nope.”

“You—”

“No.”

“Just—”

“Shut the fuck up, Bakugou.”

At your crass words, Bakugou takes his eyes off the road to look at you in amused disbelief (or, at least you think so—you’re only looking at the man through your periphery; you’re too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eyes right now).

“Woah, there, princess,” you can hear him smirking. “Not sure that’s how you want to talk to your boss.”

“Oh, bullshit,” you fix your gaze to your right, itching to get out of the car. “I thought you were my date tonight. You can’t be both at the same time. That—that just doesn’t sit right with me. You know, as the HR head of your agency?”

The man merely snickers in response, and you’re lulled into a comfortable silence.

Before he decides to speak again.

“‘Have a great rest of your wedding,’” he chuckles to himself as he stops at a red light. “Classic.”

You turn to regard him, having had enough. “Do you mind? I’m kind of having a crisis here.”

At that, he snorts. “Over what? You just had the best payback in history.”

You ignore him, opting to bury your face in your hands instead as you wail, “I punched a guy at his wedding.”

“Damn straight, you did.”

You gape at him like he just grew horns. “I’m sorry, were you not there? In case you forgot, Mr. Dynamight, you were technically my date. You’re guilty by association.”

Just as he is about to respond, the traffic light quickly turns to yellow then green, and you take it as an opportunity to keep rambling.

“And practically everyone there knows you. Shit, Mikuri-san is going to kill me.”

“Tadashi Mikuri? From PR?”

“Yes,” you seethe, although you know Bakugou has done nothing wrong to be at the receiving end of your shame-induced anger. You groan, “This is going to be a nightmare to clean up.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything after that, and you have to restrain yourself from poking at him to say anything—anything, really—to assure you that no, everything is going to be okay, and that no, your career or reputation is not over.

Eventually, and without you noticing, you pull up in the driveway of your apartment. Heaving a deep sigh, you will yourself to finally keep your chin up and face whatever the fuck is waiting for you tomorrow head-on, even if you were going to do it alone. Grabbing your purse and phone, you’re about to thank him and say good night when Bakugou reaches over the console and places a hand over yours.

“I—” he starts, and you look at him expectantly, trying not to seem weird about the contact.

He clears his throat before giving you the most reassuring nod, “I’ll take care of the press. Don’t worry about it.”

Before you can ask him how the hell he’s planning to go about that, he beats you to it. “And don’t ask me how. Just—” he finally looks at you, “trust me.”

You can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod back.

The next morning, you wake up on the relatively right side of the bed for once until the events of yesterday come crashing down on you like an unprecedented avalanche, effectively robbing you of your good mood.

You chance a peek at the phone on your nightstand, debating whether or not to throw it away and religiously avoid social media for the rest of your days. After what feels like an hour, however, you decide against it and pick the gadget up.

Only to be met with 57 texts, 23 missed calls, and 300+ notifications on your Twitter and Instagram accounts each.

Your stomach sinks as the feeling of dread instantly washes over you. Overwhelmed, you click on one familiar message thread you have with your best friend.

(11:46 PM) bestie<3: girlllll (11:46 PM) bestie<3: what the actual FUCK pick up your phone (11:47 PM) bestie<3: NOT YOU PUNCHING THAT DOUCHEBAG (11:47 PM) bestie<3: and since when have you been dating dynamight??? HELLOOOO??? (11:47 PM) bestie<3: when were you planning to tell me all of this bc im lowkey salty (11:51 PM) bestie<3: girl…. you have to see this (11:51 PM) bestie<3: (see link)

Your fingers are practically trembling when you click on the link, and in hindsight, you’re glad you’re on your bed because what you see next makes you drop your phone:

BREAKING: #2 Pro-hero Dynamight seen at a wedding, alleged “date” punches the groom

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a lovely day!

[dixonsstinkysock]

It’s Temporary

AN: This was going to be a random blurb but I’m too into this and he’s such a dork. Guys don’t tell anyone but I kinda wanna write smut, I’m not going to because I’m scared but y’know.

(Heavily inspired by a bot on C.AI, pretty sure the user is @/zetali_09 so if you see this i love you.)

Warnings: Swearing, mention of an apartment blowing up….suggestive???

Set during Season 1, before the timeskip…

The cold, Upper city, night air chilled you to the core. The dark streets only illuminated by the few street lights scattered here and there. You wrap your cloak around you a little tighter as you made your way to the meeting spot. Making a sharp turn down a dark alleyway, you narrowly miss a couple of enforcers doing their nightly rounds.

Leaning against the cool, damp, brick wall. Enjoying the noises of the city, letting time pass by as you wait for your companion. Around a half an hour later, you hear heavy footsteps and the soft click of the high-cost, well made shoes echoing throughout the alley. You recognized those steps, he saved up for a long time to purchase those shoes, no way could you forget them. You open your eyes, turning towards the culprit of the noise. “Took you long enough, thought I was gonna rot out here.” You smiled at the shadowed man, stepping into the moonlight.

“Sorry, had a few things to finish up with my work. Left later than I expected…”

You walk up to him, trapping him into one if your famous bear hugs. An unfamiliar scent wafts from him, its sweet…it’s expensive. Definitely not his signature cologne smell���no, something different. You both stay there for a moment, enjoying the new company. Everything seems to fade away when your with him, it’s like he’s the cure to your disease.

“Been a while since we last talked—“

“Yeah, I…” You pull back, looking Jayce in the eyes. “I’m sorry. There’s been alot going on.”

His hands come up to your face, gently caressing it. He’s always gentle with you, a contrast from the rough, dangerous streets you grew up in.

“Hey…What’s going on?” His voice is soft and smooth, with the occasional voice crack, it’s not fair. His looks already make him desirable, but hearing him talk to you with that tone? Drooling.

“It’s my siblings, they’ve been getting into more and more trouble.” You fully pull away from him, turning towards the lit up entrance of the alleyway. “It’s like Vi doesn’t even realize how bad things can really get.”

“Hey—“ He takes a step foward, gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you to him. “I’m here. I’m here to help—with anything. We’ll figure this out okay?”

A bittersweet smile graces your lips, you close your hand over his placed on your shoulder.

“You don’t know the Undercity, Jayce. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help me on this one…”

The two of you stood there, unspeaking. You can practically hear the gears burning inside Jayce’s head. You can almost smell the smoke coming from them, It’s obvious he’s thinking of ways to try and help you and your family. After a moment, you rest your head onto his chest, defeated, and looking for comfort.

“I can’t let you risk you life for this. You have too much ahead of you.”

You feel his arms wrap around you, bringing you closer. He buries his face into your hair, breathing in your scent.

“There is nothing ahead of me without you.” You lock your arms around him, holding back a few tears. Jayce feels you taking fast, deep breaths, attempting to keep your composure. It’s all been alot, apparently your kid siblings were being nosy—blew up some guys apartment. Now every enforcer in Piltover is searching for them. You take a deep breath, leaning up straight to face him again.

“I won’t let you risk your life for me…risk your future—”

“I’m not some idiot throwing himself into danger for fun! I’m protecting someone I love.”

That. That catches you off guard. Yes, you two have been messing around every other night, cuddling after, speaking soft sweet words to each other…but love? He didn’t really love you did he? You’re from the Undercity. The scum of the scum. He’s from the top, he’s perfect. No way he actually means this…does he?

“I’m choosing to do this because I care about you, I care about your family. You aren’t alone in this, no matter how much you think you are.”

Time stops for what feels like hours, you gaze into his eyes, trying to find some kind of sign to tell you he isn’t being true. You can’t. His caramel eyes look gold from the street lights, determined and dead set on aiding you. You let your head fall onto his chest again, giving him your unspoken permission to help with your situation.

“I just realized I didn’t ask about how you’ve been.”

His arms tighten around your body, gently rocking you both back and forth. “Ha…” Jayce lets out a breathy chuckle, preparing himself to recount the most recent and life changing events. “It’s been different…Some guys blew up my apartment.”

You freeze. There’s no way they did that. It can’t be the same apartment right? How many apartments blow up in Piltover? Oh my god. My siblings blew up his fucking apartment. “Uh…” You can’t even form a sentence, still shocked at the new information. What are you going to tell him—

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah—are you okay? You’re fucking apartment blew up!” You pull back from him, facing him again. Your hands find their place on his waist, trying to ground yourself after what you were just told.

“My back’s still a little sore but I’m fine.”

“How much did you lose?” His mood darkened, eyes darting to the ground. “Alot.” You take a deep breath, This shouldn’t have happened. He is a good man, maybe a little crazy sometimes but—good. This whole thing is a mess. Jayce doesn’t know your sisters are the ones who blew up his apartment, you can’t go and get onto them for this because they don’t know you’re with him. You’re stuck, with no one to go to, maybe Vander but…he’d get upset that you’re up here with a topsider. Just so happens, he’s the same topsider your sisters were targeting.

This is fucking stupid.

After giving him your apologies, you realize it’s getting light. You should start heading back home, hopefully without Vander noticing you were gone.

“Jayce, It’s getting early. I gotta start heading back…”

“So soon..?” He smiles, he’s clearly up to something as he brings his hands up to your jaw. The sun is slowly rising, changing the sky into beautiful hues of orange and blue.

“Have to get back before Vander wakes up, I do not wanna hear that lecture.”

“Do you have to? Maybe you could…stay with me?”

“Stay…Topside. With you.”

“Yeah, I mean we could spend the day together. Go and do something…” He takes your hands into his own, engulfing them. You take a moment to think about his request. It’d be fun spending time with him, you’d be able to really enjoy his company. Not waiting for something or someone to come out of the shadows, trying to rob you or worse.

“Okay…What did you have in mind?” A smug look slowly plagues his face as he takes your hands into his, leading you out of the alley and in the direction of his temporary home.

“Trust me?”

You grip his hands tighter, letting him lure you into whatever devious plan he’s set up.

“Maybe…”

Two shadows danced against the stone road, slowly disappearing as the sun rose higher into the sky. One by one, doors open, carriages roll by, and the occasional stray kid runs in front of you two. None of that matters, not when his callused, warm hands are handling you so gently. When he looks at you like you’re his world…like he can’t live without you.

It definitely doesn’t matter when he pulls you into his hotel, hands roaming each others clothed figures as he closes the door behind you.

Guys…Part 2?? What y’all think 😈

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 1

James Potter x Reader

Summary: You had always been the sort to keep to yourself, never expecting any attention. That is until a mysterious letter is slipped under your door…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, reader plays hard to get without intending to, idiots in love, oc!friends, lovesick!james x salty!reader, reader low key hates James at the beginning but it’s for the plot I swear! No use of Y/N, reader is in the girls’ dorms but gender is rarely specified, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.4K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Summer shifted with a gust of wind, dragging with it the soft chill of the Scottish coast. The leaves turned from emerald to amber, marking the start of your final year at Hogwarts.

Gryffindor had instilled a sense of courage in you, one that you often left at home when returning to the brooding towers that form your school. So, with the brewing feeling of newfound bravery in your heart, you approached the Gryffindor common room with the mentality that this will be your year.

The crowded floor of the comforting common room was painted with school shoes and flashes of red as your fellow house members danced in a flurry of reunions and affections. Yeah…this will be your year. Once you figure out how to socialise without cringing from embarrassment.

You shifted past the cliques and gangs, attempting to find your more resolved group of companions. Standing on the stairs by the girls’ dorms was the sight you were hoping for.

“Charlie! Hope!” You called, striding over to your much loved roommates.

“I’m surprised you survived the stampede down there, come to safety!” Charlie joked with open arms, guiding you into a warm embrace.

“Seems like the summer didn’t do much for the maturity in this house…” Hope muttered into your shoulder as she joined the reunion, glancing at the chaos ensuing behind you.

Charlie and Hope were your personal lifelines, a combination of wits and humility that allowed you to embrace the more tentative side of yourself. You first bonded over your shock discoveries as Gryffindors, as opposed to your predicted places in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. While none of you were sure of why or how you found yourselves in the house of courage and bravery - or as you often called it, the pit of egos and self-righteousness - you certainly found a home between the pair, never stepping outside the social boundaries of your timid trio.

You marched towards the comfort of your dorm, arms linked with your companions and back turned to a pair of unacknowledged, watchful eyes, shaded by rounded glasses.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James often found hellos to be even harder than goodbyes, a swelling of tears and joy erupting from the boy’s face the second he laid his golden eyes on his mischievous friends. Sirius, Remus and Peter lined the couch territorially, leaving space in the middle for one James Potter to jump into in excited greeting.

“Prongs! We thought you’d never show!” Exclaimed Sirius in a lighthearted tone, smirking at the boy’s glowing grin. “Glad to see us, then?”

“Oh Pads, you know I’d never miss a single day with you by my side if I had the choice!” James met his friend’s playful tone, though his genuine affection shone through the string of words he praised. He found comfort against the back of the couch, bursting into a ramble of “how are you?”, “I missed you” and “what did you do over the summer?” which the other Marauders dutifully answered with similar excitement.

James was busy engaging with Sirius’ vengeful tale of redeeming himself through a series of pranks planned for the coming school year when he found himself glancing towards a familiar figure above the crowd. Your hair reflected the light of the room, almost as if an angel’s halo surrounded your head. Your face, lit up with familiarity at your friends’ embrace, caused a physical reaction from the boy as his lips parted. Had you gotten even more hauntingly beautiful since the last year? James didn’t think it was possib-

“Pro-ongs, I think it’s about time you made a move on that lovely little bird, don’t you?” Sirius sang, inching closer to the captivated face of his friend. A light dusting of peachy blush turned dark on his cheeks under the sudden attention. “I- what? W-who?” James laughed, though he knew full well that his friends had caught onto his not-so-little crush years ago.

“I mean, if she’s so distracting that you can’t even focus on one of the most engaging plots for revenge ever crafted by the master of mischief,” Sirius gestured to himself, “then I don’t see why you shouldn’t try for an actual conversation with her. Moony here was just agreeing with me before you arrived, weren’t you, sweet stuff?”

Sirius turned to the boy sitting on the other side of the young Potter as Remus nodded in reserved agreement. “I know you think she’d never go for a boy like you, James, but Sirius has a point.” Remus advised. James considered his friends’ logical conclusions, realising he should probably come to the same.

There’s not long left, Potter, he told himself. We’ll graduate and the only person you’ve ever really felt something for will be out of your grasp forever. It’s now or never. “Ok…ok, I’ll do it. This will be the year. This will be my year.” James responded, eyes still lingering on you as you walked towards your dorm, slowly shrinking in his line of sight. His friends cheered in satisfied agreement. This will be his year. The year he shares with you.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Unpacked trunks and flittering gossip filled your dorm room walls as you giggled with your loyal friends. “So…any chance one of you might pursue a love life for once?” Hope teased, despite her own lack of romantic involvement. Charlie let out a scoff, grinning her lopsided grin at Hope’s curiosity. “Certainly not in this house, but there might be a few lucky souls in the others who could try to keep up with me.” She laughed with you and Hope, basking in the joy that only you three could harvest from one another.

“Any boys catch your eye? Oh! Maybe any girls?” Hope turned the question to you as you hid a laugh behind your hand. “Some of these kids might as well just date themselves at this point! I mean, how can you love yourself that much and leave any room to love someone else?” You cried, exasperation shaping your tone. “Are we talking about who I think we’re talking ab-“ “OH you mean the Marauders!?” Charlie exclaimed, interrupting Hope’s more subtle approach to the subject.

“Of course I’m talking about those good for nothing clowns,” You responded, “They’re too preoccupied with themselves to even notice anyone else! On the last week of the last year, Sirius managed to shove me into a wall in the hallway without blinking an eye. He was too caught up in his own reflection in the polished floor to notice! Remus and Peter turn a blind eye to all the mischief their friends cause, and only if they themselves aren’t involved. And that boy, James Potter…” You continue your ranting, “it’s like there’s no thoughts behind that smug face of his! He bumped into me as we both attempted to exit through a classroom door at the same time, pushing my books out of my arms and onto the floor. I looked at him expectedly for some sort of sign to show he was apologetic, but he just stood and stared at me wide-eyed! That is, before he scurried away as if he was suddenly half his own size, looking like a rodent in an athlete’s body!”

Charlie and Hope shared a knowing look when you commented on the last Marauder’s appearance, communicating a silent assumption that you weren’t quite as annoyed with the head boy as you were confused. “I digress…” you concluded with a flushed expression. “If any boy in this house even attempts to approach me I should hope for his sake that he’s matured at a rate faster than the speed of light over the summer, otherwise he doesn’t stand a-“

Pshhh.

All eyes in the room turn towards the door. A light blue envelope with dark ink scribbled on the front sat patiently at the base of the door, having just been pushed below from a mysterious source on the other side.

“…chance.” You finished, curiosity propelling your trio towards the unfamiliar object. Labeled on the front, communicating with newfound clarity now that you had closed the distance between yourself and the letter, was a boyish, unpolished mark of your name. Quiet settled on the three of you for a moment. “OH. MY. GOD!” Charlie exclaimed, snatching the paper from the floor and sprinting towards your bed. “Hey, wait for me! I want to read it too!” Hope pursued your friend. Lastly, you rose from your position on the floor and slowly approached the bed as your friends eagerly ripped open the letter.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: Thank you for reading! I intend on expanding this into a pretty fluffy series with James trying to win reader over ;) sorry for the slow chapter, it will get more eventful in future updates now that the context is established. Part 2 is up! Comment to be added to the taglist <3

[rpgchoices]

The WINNER of the Tournament of fav tumblr rpg male romances is...

The Master of the Vollante

The Babe of Frontiers

The Heart of the Gate

WYLL RAVENGARD

Enjoy this two minute FANVIDEO DEDICATED TO HIM (don't miss the final quote, it is my favorite), I used the most appropriate song ever. Congrats, Wyll with a y!

(he is the hero, but he also needs a hero to sweep him off his feet, get it?)

With about 1235 votes, Wyll beat Garrus in the finals of the tournament. This gives him the title of best tumblr rpg blorbo and babygirl.

(more under cut about the Wyll's sweep and his character)

Wyll jumped into the tournament qualifying among 69 total characters, and being the most voted of his section in round zero! Wyll was also the most voted OVERALL in round one where he got about 6420 votes against Cullen (88% of votes). Round two saw him winning a very close competition against Zevran, and in round three he won with almost double the votes against Astarion! Again with double the votes he won against Dorian Pavus in the semifinals!

Very appropriate for him to win as his character is truly a romantic at heart and his actor even revealed in an interview that the romantic scenes were his favorite to film.

Wyll is a companion and romancable option for any gender in Baldur's Gate 3. You will meet him while he is in pursuit of a devil, just to find out that the honor and code he is trying to live by might be clashing with the path he could be choosing.

Wyll's romance has a kiss that has been nominated (and won) for "favorite kiss ever in a rpg game by me and for my opinion only and I just love it".

Man who will crack a joke when you least expect it

EVEN WHEN IT REALLY IS NOT THE TIME

Just to turn around and offer you the most heart shattering and unwavering support

Monster smasher (in all senses) hero, who truly needs someone at his side who makes sure he fights his own battles too, not just the trials of the coast!

Very happy to see he is currently (with all the biases and limitations of such polls, of course) the favorite romance in the rpg fandoms here on tumblr (for male characters)!!

Please, make sure to also jump in the female characters tournament!!

Also, CONGRATULATIONS TO GARRUS who came second in the tournament, and FENRIS who came third! (as he had more votes than Dorian, in the semifinals)

*In the fanvideo there are the seven clips that are not from Wyll games. I wanted to write them down as this is supposed to be a rec for his romance, so I don't want to trick people!

00:16 I modded Wyll into Karlach and used Astarion as player character (Karlach romance scene act 3)

00:38 Astarion romance scene, I played as Wyll but I flipped the character with the ring of metamorph mod so Wyll could pick up Astarion

00:50 Like the first clip, this is Karlach scene from act 3

00:51 I modded Karlach into Wyll, this is her scene from act 1

00:53 I modded Shadowheart into Astarion and I was playing as Wyll, this is Shadowheart romance scene in act 1

00:59 This is Astarion romance scene in act 2, I was playing as Wyll

01:07 The hug is from Astarion romance, epilogue, where I was playing as Wyll

[teastainedprose]

Too Sweet - Ch. 1 (Cooper Howard x Reader)

A settler selling wares in Filly catches The Ghoul's eye. Inspired by a Tumblr post asking for an angst fic to Hozier's Too Sweet. 1,753 words | [AO3] No warnings yet, only innocent flirting. Banner from @eupheme

The first time he spots you, Cooper thinks nothing of it. Sure, you look a little less worn down compared to the usual rabble roaming Filly. Certainly scrubbed a little cleaner than most but so were the rest of your companions. The lot of you are a curiosity for sure, but he's seen plenty of attractive women over the ages and known a handful carnally. He's not the sort of man to let a pretty face distract him. No, you don't get a second glance from the ghoul as he goes about his business. 

It's not until your laughter catches Cooper by the ear that he starts paying attention. Jerks his head right round at the sunny sound, attention diverting from the bounty board as he watches you engage with a customer. You laugh again, a merry delight that lights your face right up while the elderly woman you're chatting with laughs along. She's made brighter for being so close to you while you've suddenly become the sun in Cooper's eyes. A brightness he has to squint at when he looks over again to drink you in. His long-dead heart decides that it's about time to do a little flip.

That's a sensation he's not keen on feeling. Cooper hums under his breath, frown settling on his worn lips. He tugs the brim of his hat lower, turning away as he tries to focus on the task at hand. No good can come of fancying any sort of infatuation on a smoothie like you. You're not the sort of creature deserving of the trouble he could bring.

Yet Cooper finds he can't quite help himself. Wasteland life is full of little pleasures and looking at you sure counts as a bit of pleasure. Why not indulge?

The rest of the day as he sits waiting for a client to show, his eyes flicker over you. Wherever you're from, it's certainly kinder to you than what most folks in the Wasteland see. You almost look as soft as some fresh-faced Vaultie, but he can see that your hands are well-worn as you exchange produce for caps. A farmer of sorts. Homesteader.

He listens with a keener ear to the gossip swirling about you and those in your group. A little settler band situated out east, closer to the mountains and closer to what manages to grow green. He picks up that your lot wanders in every few weeks with produce to sell, or trade to stock up the settlement the collective group runs. 

Idly, he wonders what horseshit sort of ideology your commune might be sunk into, but if you're looking to spread a new sort of gospel none of your ilk seem keen on sharing it here. You're a welcome addition to the economy of Filly and it's clear that many enjoy the taste of hope this band of settlers bring in with their harvest. Cooper figures that's indoctrination enough from the harsh reality the Wasteland offers up.

Cooper finds himself wandering over to Ma June's place under the pretense of stocking up on supplies. There's suspicion in her eyes as he drops his intended purchases onto the counter but that's not out of the ordinary. There's always suspicion in the looks Ma June gives him, but she'll take his caps all the same.

"Say, now what's with that group of lil' farmers hauling in their produce like that? Can't imagine those soft-lookin' sorts making their way all the way here unmolested," he drawls out. His smile is crooked as Cooper counts through his caps to pay.

"Settlers, but the well-armed sort. No point in trifling with them. Too well-liked here for their fresh food supply they haul in," Ma June pulls the caps towards her, gaze fixed on the ghoul as she mutters. "They'll trade with ya, but keep out of their business. Ya hear?"

A hum escapes Cooper as he considers this, leaning onto the counter while glancing out the dusty window towards where you stand at the stall. He casually stashes his purchases into his saddlebag while going on conversationally.  "Well- Is that so? They a regular sort of fixture here in Filly now?"

"Have been setting up that stall going on half a year now. Surprised you've yet to come across 'em. Best cherry tomatoes you'll find in the Wasteland." Ma June eases back, arms crossing over her chest as a sour look settles in place on her worn face.

Another speculative hum escapes Cooper as he digests this information before he tips his hat to Ma June and goes on his way. Which happens to lead him straight to your stall.

Once there, Cooper casually plucks up potatoes, a handful of cherry tomatoes, and okra. All of it looks as vegetables should, the sort he would have found at the grocery store before everything went to shit. 

"How much for this lot?" He sets the small bounty atop the open space on the stall. Cooper gives you his Hollywood smile that would charm the pants off of any woman in bygone days, except now his face is a leathery wreck and his teeth are yellowed with age. Most people instantly flinch away in disgust.

Not you.

You smile like the morning sun towards him as you step closer while dusting your hands off on your pants. The bit of dirt smeared on your face only seems to enhance your features in Cooper's eyes. The look you give him is almost shy once you meet his gaze, smiling warmly up to him. 

Cooper finds that curious. He's familiar with a scowl or grimace of disgust when anyone looks him in the face, but here you are gracing him with an easy smile. A customer is a customer, he figures, and he'll do well enough. Yet, your friendliness doesn't feel like an act. Even after all these years, Cooper Howard still can clock other actors.

"Fifteen caps for the whole lot, but I'll throw in an extra sweet potato for the smile." You wink. Wink right at him as your smile grows. "They're good for ya, handsome." You add casually, the smile tugging up further into a cheeky grin. Your expression shifts. Playful. Coy. Interested.

Ain't that something? Cooper doesn't falter at the full force of your attention. He's too old and worn for that, but he sure does grin right back with a twinkle in his eye. Even an old ghoul like him can enjoy a pretty thing like you openly flirting with him.

Now that he’s heard it, Cooper decides your voice is sweet as a silver bell. The sort of soothing tone that reminds him of rain softly pelting a windowpane. It's the sort of sound that makes him wish to stay and listen for a while, tucked into the warmth that he suddenly wants you to offer up. He wants to get you talking to hear more. Wonders how he can coax you into a conversation.

That’s a fucking stupid idea. Cooper mentally shakes himself free of the passing fancy, head tilting ever so slightly as he peers down at you from the shadow of his hat. "Mhm. Ain't trying to get me hooked now are you, sweetheart?

"Something like that." 

“Well now, reckon vegetables ain’t the worst sort of vice a man can get lost in.” Cooper still can’t help himself. He lets his eyes wander right down your body before flicking back up to your face, what sort of vice he’s pondering made clear.

That flush on your cheeks blooms all the hotter as you laugh for him, the sound an utter delight when directed his way. You smile, sweet and shy now as you pluck up a hefty sweet potato to set beside the rest of his purchases. 

“Oh, well-” You start, stop with a small shake of your head as you smile all the wider. Utterly disarmed.

Cooper counts out the requested coin with a speculative hum, mirth sparking in his eyes as it seems he’s rendered you speechless. It’s down-right adorable if he’s being honest with himself. You’re a right little temptation he’d like to play with further. A dangerous thought.

Setting the coins onto the counter, he's swift in sweeping up his new bounty and stowing it all away into a pouch within his saddle bag. This close you're too bright and Cooper knows he's in trouble. Best to break away before you pull him into your orbit in full.

“You take care of yourself now, sweetheart,” Cooper drawls. He tips his hat towards you and turns away with spurs clicking. You watch him go, cheeks still flaming.

You know who he is. The Ghoul, the most famous Bounty Hunter the radiated Wastelands has to offer. You've heard all the rumors and truer tales about him all your life but nothing could prepare you for seeing him in the flesh. A dangerous sort of creature. A man who always brings his bounty in. 

You'd been watching him all day, stealing glances as you work. Now that you've seen him up close and personal? You're down-right fascinated. He’s nothing like the monster the stories painted him out to be. At least, he certainly wasn’t monstrous to you. There’s something captivating about him. Charming, even. 

You’ve seen ghouls before, of course. You know their kind as some live on the settlement with you. The majority end up shambling and ungainly, limbs no longer listening as the radiation rot wars with their regeneration abilities. A confusion that makes most of them uncoordinated and awkward in their transformed bodies, but The Ghoul? He’s got a swagger to his step that reminds you of those cowboys you’ve seen on ancient holotapes. 

He’s been lurking at the edge of your awareness all day, your head cocking in his direction to listen to the cadence of his voice as he bartered for bullets and talked business outside of the bar over yonder.

A thrill had jolted through you the moment he started to move towards your stall. The nervous energy thrumming through you had been made all the worse when you met The Ghoul’s gaze for the first time. A woman could find herself lost in such eyes and you’d certainly tripped right into them. Boldly meeting this stranger’s gaze and enjoying every second his attention was on you.

Shame he left so quickly. You sigh, turning back to count out bottlecaps he’d left as you turn your attention back to work. Best not to think about it. You’re unlikely to see that legend ever again.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (P. 4)

Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer picks you to be his baby mama. Rated E

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

You’re resting against the trunk of a tree at the top of a little hill.

It’s picturesque — the hill is gentle, sloping down to a field of tall yellow-green grass. You can smell it, wafting up with the pollen from golden flowers. The sky above is alive with pinks and oranges bleeding into yellows and whites. A symphony of coos, chirps and pitter-patters of tiny things skittering around have an oddly calming effect as you settle back and allow yourself to exist. 

Eyes closed, you hear the sound of something larger than a mouse rounding the tree trunk. 

“I got it!” A feminine voice breaks the calm.

You don’t have to look to feel the other person at your side. They lower themselves to the ground, knees brushing against yours when they cross their legs to sit next to you. 

You don’t have to look, but you do. 

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

She’s not wearing any clothes, and you can see faint scars and wrinkles against the uninterrupted expanse of her skin. 

“It’s so pretty, I’ve never seen one so red.” The woman is happy to see you, speaking with all the familiarity of a sister. 

She presents an apple to you, taken from behind her back like a surprise. 

It is red. Red like an oversized ruby, or a still-beating heart full of blood. All except for the missing chunk made by delicate teeth, yellow-white meat peeking through.

You accept her offering without a word. Even when it’s imperfect, you’re mesmerized by the fruit.

“I took a bite. I’m sorry.” She gazes at you, eyes flinty. “Does that bother you?”

You shake your head vehemently, holding the apple between your hands as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. “No, of course not.”  

The woman’s lips quirk up into a satisfied smile, growing bigger when you lift the apple to your mouth and bite into it. The taste is extraordinary — sweet juice bursts against your tongue when the crisp flesh gives under your teeth with barely any resistance.

You savor the first bite out of necessity but soon you’re ravenous. You can’t get enough. 

Your companion exhales gently through her nose and looks up at the colorful sky. She seems to relish in the breeze that passes by, making the leaves above you rustle and the tall grass ahead blow back quietly. 

The apple is almost gone when she looks back at you, teeth showing as she grins. “Careful there!”

She giggles, reaching out to tap the hand of your hand in warning. It’s all playful, even when you pout and draw back. 

“You’ll eat the seeds if you keep that up.” She says. “Something might take root and grow if you do.” 

Her words give you pause, but only for the length of four or five heartbeats. The core of the apple is no less refreshing and before you know it, you’re holding the stem. 

“Thank you.” You tell her earnestly. 

The stem rolls in your palm, until it appears to wiggle and your brow furrows. In the back of your mind, you think you should be more startled to see it moving on its own. But when it grows pink-gray and ringed, and you realize it’s a worm, you simply place the flat of your hand on the ground below and watch it find its way into the dirt. 

Sudden warmth against your cheek has you looking back up. The woman is inches from your face. Her eyelashes are dark and long and you could count them if you wanted. 

The woman kisses you without a word, hands coming up to cup the back of your head. Surprise does spark up your spine as her tongue darts behind your lips. It’s as if she’s drinking deeply from you before she lets go. 

“Forgive me. I wanted another taste.” She giggles again. “It’s even sweeter than I remember.” 

Your face burns. You open your mouth, ready to ask the questions burning the tip of your tongue before the thud of footsteps sound from behind you. 

She frowns, light leaving her eyes as she glances behind your shoulder. “Oh I was hoping we’d have more time.” 

Her eyes cut across to yours. “Wake up before he sees you!”

———

A wave of pure, unadulterated nausea swept over you as soon as you opened your eyes. You laid still for a long moment, trying to reign in the urge to vomit before you deemed it safe enough to observe your surroundings. 

A vague sense of confusion surfaced through the malaise when you realized that you were in your living room. There was a carmine blanket tucked around you, and with moderate difficulty you raised your head to see that, yes, a fluffy pillow was resting under your head.

Your reality conflicted with the still-present smell of tall, wet grass and a chill from the summer breeze against your skin.

With ridiculous care, you turned your head back into the pillow and muffled a whine. You couldn’t recall feeling a hangover of this caliber ever before in your life.

‘Wait.’

You weren’t hungover. Well, maybe you were but not from alcohol. 

Your neighbors had invited you to dinner, then drugged you. 

Already sick, you forced yourself to breathe deeply before shifting on the couch and pulling up the blanket. Despite confirming that your body was still clothed, you found yourself shaking. 

It didn’t make sense to you how anyone could do this regardless of their intentions. You could not fathom why two people willing to harm you in one way hadn’t done more than that. 

Your relief was short-lived, as dull and diluted as it was, when you twisted to lay back down and came face-to-face with:

A black glove, some aspirin and a glass of water sat on your coffee table.

You blinked rapidly.

There was a small business card in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless ensemble. It was thick stock, white, and flashing fancy golden script:

Lucifer Morningstar

Your stomach dropped as an unnaturally white face with glowing yellow and red eyes flashed in your mind. 

The hallucination you’d seen last night — his image faded from your mind and you were left drifting in a blank, black void. 

No thoughts. 

———

The headache and nausea were considerably lesser when you woke up again. 

Looking at the items on your coffee table — ‘glove, aspirin, water still there’ — you looked at each one and for one, strangely hopeful moment you didn’t see a card. 

Oh no, it had just fallen on the floor. 

———

Lucifer Morningstar 

It was an odd business card, with its little red, white and gold designs on the edges. Fireworks, you eventually guessed. The ‘i’ in both first and last name were punctuated with them as well. 

As you’d popped the aspirin in your mouth and downed the water, you flipped the card over. You could feel your eyebrows rising to your hairline at the hastily written message on the back:

Proof you weren’t dreaming. 

Please Call Me

1-666-666-6669

Pacing was out of the question. Your limbs were still unsteady no matter how much you willed them to function. 

You were trapped on the couch trying to accept what your brain had been screaming at you since you awoke for the fifth time. 

How much time had passed? 

                                      Heaven and Hell were real, and so were God and the Devil. 

            And the Devil had paid you a visit. 

———

The indent you’d made into your stupid, hand-me-down sofa was probably permanent now that you’d spent who knows how long just rotting there. 

Contemplating, processing, fearing. 

Fleeting memories of tantrums you’d thrown as a child paralyzed you. Moments in your life that you’d already regretted so much they kept you up some nights — randomly, provoked by nothing — piled up in your brain. Each one harshened that sinking feeling inside your body. This kind of horror was the kind a person feels right before they die. 

How long have you been judged from above for your wrongs?

Were you already doomed to Hell? Is that why Lucifer himself wanted ‘to meet’ you? Did he make it a personal habit to visit each lowly sinner and taunt them?

God was real, so did everything actually happen for a reason like so many said? 

Why did bad things happen to good people? 

Was your dog in heaven, waiting for you and you’d already disappointed her by getting a one way ticket in the opposite direction?

———

You figured out that the ringing in your ears was actually your phone’s alarm when the natural lighting in your apartment was almost gone. 

You managed to get to it on the other side of the room half-stumbling from your seat. 

“Hello?” You rasped.

“… So you finally decided to answer your phone.”

———

It took you banging on the door and shouting against its old, glossy surface before Cass Farrow cracked it open. 

A myriad of expressions crossed her painted face before she opened the door fully. When she faced you, she smiled. 

“Honey! It’s been days! We didn’t wanna bother you but we were worried! It’s good to see you up and about!” 

The way she acted, as if nothing was wrong, as if the world had turned upside down, had you balling up your fists. Your ragged nails delved into the skin so deeply you could feel the sting of blood.

“I-I need…” You couldn’t stop the copper taste of saliva filling your mouth. 

You would not throw up. “I need to speak to your boss.”

Cass blinked owlishly at that. “My what?”

‘Why? Why? Why are you shocked?’ You shouted in your mind.

“Oh honey,” The low tone did nothing to soothe you, only raise your ire. “I don’t know what —” 

“The Devil!” Your raised voice made the elderly woman jump. “Or Lucifer, or Baphomet — whatever the fuck you call him! I need to talk to him.” 

You scrambled to grab the business card you’d stashed in your pocket. 

“You had him in your apartment, so I know he’s in there somewhere.” You said while waving it in Cass’s face frantically. 

It was deja vú when Mrs. Farrow eyed the card and her face paled considerably. 

“Oh.” 

———

Lucifer wasn’t ‘home’. At least, he wasn’t in his personal Airbnb via the Farrow residence. 

However, Cass waved it away. “He’ll think it’s you or about you or something to do with you and come running.”

Trying to push yourself and demand she tell you more proved to be too difficult. All you could do is stand with your arms crossed, waiting while the (clearly practiced) worshiper combined a series of dried plants in her hands. 

Cass gathered them up and laid them carefully on a side table before fiddling with the furnace and a long lighted match.  

The fire blazed to life instantly from the little flicker it had begun as when Cass threw the plants in. It rose higher, and higher, until it had disappeared past where you could see behind the lintel. 

You had it in you to be stunned when Lucifer appeared from out of those flames. He was perfectly pristine and intact when he stepped out, hunching slightly to avoid his top hat bumping into the smoke chamber. 

The devil was as you remembered him, but also worse in that you couldn’t reassure yourself that his visage was merely a product of your fucked up, overly-imaginative little brain. 

He was so… white.

His skin was practically blinding as freshly-painted walls hit by a sunbeam. 

Lucifer stepped into the room with a flourish. “I came as soon as I coul-”

‘Fuck.’ You’d been spotted. 

And there went Cass, out of the living room to hide away in her smelly kitchen. 

“You’re here!” Lucifer cajoled, theatrics on full display as he beheld your presence. 

The top hat came off, held in his hands as he graced you with a bashful smile like he was some gentleman caller and not Not-Satan. 

“I-I didn’t expect to see you here waiting! But I’m so glad you are. Did you get my card? I thought about just leaving the glove because the card can seem so impersonal —”

“I just got fired.” You blurted out. 

The unusually flat face contorted into an anguished expression. “You… you lost your job…?”

“Because of you.” 

“B-because of me ?!” His already youthful tenor of a  voice raised some octaves. “What —”

You pointed a finger in his direction. “Yes! You !”

“You appeared out of nowhere and fucked up my entire worldview. I've had existential crisis-es… cris-ies? I don’t fucking — I’ve had life-altering spirals before but that was fucking nothing compared with this!” 

“And now I’m out of a job and I’m alone in a city I don’t fucking know with cult-worshipping neighbors because I can’t go back to where I was and you’re just standing here like you have no idea why I’m upset!” 

You hadn’t expected to get this far. You hadn’t expected to go on a tirade at all, really. Distantly you felt tears sliding down your cheeks and the frantic beat of your heart in your ribcage. 

Shame, guilt and fear began toiling deep inside you. 

Lucifer had been backed against the wall, hands raised placatingly and expression mirroring your own internal panic. It quickly turned into concern as he took in your sorry state of being. 

“Please, no.” He reached out for you and you retaliated by jolting out of reach. “Oh please don’t… I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. I never… if I’d known…”

He was reaching into his coat and pulling something out before your sight cleared. It was a handkerchief with the red moniker L.M. on one corner. 

The King held it out to you like a peace offering. Or a white flag.

The force with which you snatched it out of his hands was unnecessary but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You said you picked me. What did you mean by that?” You mumbled into the handkerchief. 

Lucifer’s mouth screwed up into a frown, brow creasing. “We don’t have to talk about that —”

“No.” You made eye contact, watching him squirm. “We need to talk about it. Explain it. Now.”

“Ahh… ok, yes, um…” He fiddled with the bow tie at his collar. “Well, like I said before, I wanted to wait until we got to know each other because… because it’s kind of a big deal.” 

Your stern frown implored him to continue.

Lucifer winced. “It’s sort of a-a favor I wanted to ask of you. And I thought that if we talked about it over time maybe it wouldn’t sound so monumental… but actually, now…”

The fidgeting worsened, and his nimble fingers had graduated to fussing with the clasps down his front. Eventually, Lucifer yanked his jacket down to straighten it. 

“So, I’ve been around for a really, really, really, really long time.” The Devil started. “And I’ve kind of been on my own for *like* ever and that’s fine, whatever, can’t complain. Normally it’s all about warding off boredom.

“But! Lately, it’s been harder and harder to just —” He made a fist and punched down onto the palm of his other hand to elucidate. “— Just, ahh, not be bored? I guess?”

“And it’s been interfering with all the shit I gotta do. I mean I have no-oo motivation, none at all, and it’s becoming a big problem. The other Sins have actually noticed. Like Satan? You know, we talked about him when we met — yeah, he came up to me not too long ago, saying —”

Your heart stopped as Lucifer’s eyes went completely red, blazing in his skull like magma and accompanied by long horns protruding from his head. 

His voice took on an unearthly, gravelly quality as he, presumably, mimicked Satan: 

“‘We’re worried for you, man. Ozzie says you haven’t been returning his calls. Levi and Bee miss you on their outings but you always say you’re busy. Whatever’s going on, you know you can talk to us, right?’”

Lucifer was back to normal in a millisecond. “And I do know that. I do! But as much as I wanna take them up on it, I just feel like none of them will really understand what’s wrong. I don’t even understand it. Or at least I didn’t until it came to me out of nowhere, like lightning.” 

He mimed being zapped in the head.

“Visits and parties with my brothers are fun and all, but they end... And I find myself all alone more often than not.”

Lucifer sighed deeply. 

“I don’t really have anything to live for,” He stressed. “Except for myself and…” 

“That’s not much.” He snickered mirthlessly. 

You swallowed. The anger, frustration, exhaustion and still-present fear were blanketed by an uncomfortable bout of sympathy. 

Sympathy for the Devil. 

‘Oh shut the fuck up you.’

“Don’t you live for the suffering of mankind or something?” You sniffled, trying to regain your metaphorical footing in the conversation and, in turn, regenerate that anger you’d been consumed by not a minute ago. 

Lucifer looked from the ground to you, the gleam in his cherry-red eyes fighting to come back to life.

“Aha! No, no. That’s-that’s a Bible thing, right?” He groaned, pulling down the brim of his hat in exasperation. “Ugh, I still don’t know why Heaven insists on that overblown press kit! It’s so fucking old! And inaccurate!” 

Lucifer commiserated with you. “Too much involvement from human hands, too. Ya know? I mean people use it to justify some of the most insane shit I’ve ever seen!”

He cleared his throat at your blank expression. 

“Anywho-oo. What was the question again? Oh! Oh, do I live for the suffering of man — no! No, I don’t. In fact, where I’m from? Being in the middle of that suffering shtick gets old real fast. I’ve stayed away from it for a good while now and really I’ve never been better.”

The blond topped off his statement with a smile, showing those razor teeth while also trying to come across as easy-going and candid. 

A beat passed, in which you felt your lips form a thin line. 

You couldn’t stop yourself. 

You snorted. 

Lucifer looked at you as if you’d lost your head as your snorts turned into full-blown laughter. Until he, of course, wanted to fit in like he knew exactly what was going on. 

“Hahaha, yeah…” Hell’s king chuckled nervously. “I am pretty funny, aren’t I? Ha ha… ha.”

 Shaking your head ‘no’, you tried to reign in the body spasms. 

“So when you say you ‘picked me’, you mean you want me to… what? Be your therapist?” You asked. “The Devil needs a friend’s shoulder to cry on? What?” 

Lucifer fixed you with the first look of genuine annoyance you’d seen (directed at you) from him. 

“No.” He harrumphed. “I need a baby.” 

*

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision

I'm so sorry if I missed anyone who asked to be tagged! I'm having a hard time keeping track.

[water-to-drink]

Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt12

Familiar Winds

(Summary): After reaching Mondstadt you run into an unexpected hurdle but a few familiar faces are here to help you

Part 1 Last Part Next Part

✧ Masterlist ✧

(Characters): traveler!Lumine, abyss prince!Aether, Paimon, Childe, ???, ???, ???, & ???

(Tags/Warnings): gn!reader, (y/n) used, reader knows some Spanish, cannon typical violence, & blood

(Word Count): 3.2 k

“Italics” = Non human speaking

The boat ride took days to reach Mondstadt from Inazuma, you can’t complain since luckily your boat hasn’t gotten struck by lightning. You haven’t experienced any storms on the trip, but you’ve been on edge since you remembered watching videos of random players trying to reach Inazuma with various methods and all end up getting striked by lightning back in your world. Perhaps Teyvat itself has decided to bless you with luck on your voyage, hopefully that luck continues

With that blessing a little obstacle presents itself. The large mountains that litter Dragonspine. It’s not as bad as it is in Liyue but with the snowy terrain it adds an extra level of danger

You turned towards your companions. “So, how are we going to scale this? I don’t exactly have the upper body strength like you all have.”

“I guess one of us is going to have to carry their Grac-” Childe was cut off

“I’ll do it.” Lumine said

You see the two men wanting to argue with the blonde but you shut it down. “Okay.” Said loud and clear

You get on Lumine’s back and spot the others hang their heads in defeat and start to climb up the side of the mountain

“I hope I’m not weighing you down too much.”

“It’s nothing, I stopped the hand of Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom.” Lumine reminded you of her fight with Scaramouche when he was still a Harbinger

The trek up the mountain wasn’t too eventful, besides you telling yourself to not look down

Eventually you and company make it up and begin to walk to the Frostbearing Tree. During the walk you were surprised to see that the weather wasn’t as harsh as you expected. The wind swirled around you almost as if it was caressing your face

Finally in front of the tree you took a deep breath you put your hands on the tree and felt nothing

Confused, you take your hand off the bark and place it on a different part of the tree. You closed your eyes and desperately tried to concentrate but it felt like some force is blocking you from connecting to the elemental energy.

“Am I doing something wrong?” You said as you pulled your hand away. “I can’t resonate with the tree.”

“Don’t be sad, it might be because you’re tired and haven’t had a proper meal.” Paimon tried to reassure you

“Maybe, hopefully tomorrow will be better.” You said and out of the corner of your eye you see a flash of teal fly overhead

“Your Grace.”A voice reverberated through your head

“D-did any of you hear that?” You asked but was met with confused looks

“Come here.”

“There it is again, you guys seriously don’t hear that?”

“Are you sure it isn’t just the wind?” Aether said

“I know it’s not the wind.” You told

“I have to see you.”

You glance over to your companions who are none the wiser of the disembodied voice you’re hearing. Fed up you slowly make your way towards where the voice is coming from, the twins and Childe hesitantly follow you. Rounding the corner your greeted by the sight of the dragon, Dvalin

“Eek!! What is he doing here?!” Paimon screamed as she flew behind you

The twins and Childe quickly drew their weapon ready to charge at the dragon

“Fear not, for I have no intention of harming their Grace.”

“Wait, guys.” You said as you pushed through your companions. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do, I would be a disgrace to not recognize the mighty creator of this world. I do apologize for that fool Barbatos attacking you without any hesitation.”

“I don’t hold a grudge against him because my doppelganger uses the gnosis to control him, along with the other archons.” You explained and saw a look of anger and confusion fills the dragon’s eyes

“That insolent fraud! I should go to their floating palace and maul them!” The dragon roared causing your companions to cover their ears

“I get your frustration, but I beg you to not do anything rash. I’m currently in the middle of getting my old powers back and when I’m ready I will confront them and I will need all the help I can get.”

“If you are in need of powers I will lend you some of mine.”

“Are you sure? I just don’t want it to bite you later down the line.”

“Nonsense, it is the least I can do and you won’t get any power from it.” Dvalin gestured his head towards the direction of the Frostbearing tree. “That tree has been tainted long ago.”

You had an inkling that its corruption had something to do with the large pillar floating above it, but decided to leave that topic of discussion for a later date

“Okay, I’ll take some of your powers.”

You hesitatantly put your hand on Dvalin’s snout and you focused on concentrating your hand began to glow a bright teal color, you kept your hand on the dragon until the light stopped

You cup your hands together and started to imagine a small tornado. A little vortex formed in your palms and then quickly dissipated when you separated your hands

“I have a question, does Andrius know about my situation? Like does he know that I’m the creator?” You asked turning back to Dvalin

“Why would he not be knowledgeable about your predicament?”

“Just making sure, I don’t want to get my hopes up and for them to side with my doppelganger.”

“It’s such a sad situation for the divine creator to take such a precaution for fear of death in a world that is supposed to worthship them.”

“Don’t feel bad, some people know the situation, and I have another request, but I don’t want to seem like I’m asking for too much.”

“Nonsense, your request do not bother me in the slightest.”

“If you say so, then can you give me and my friends here a ride to Wolvendom?”

“Of course, your Grace.”

“Thank you so much!” You said and turned towards the others. “I don’t know how much of that you caught, but we’re going to Wolvendom to meet Andrius.”

The twins, Childe, and Paimon shared confused glances at each other but eventually hopped on Dvalin. With flaps of his wings the dragon was off the ground and took flight

Soaring through the skies of Mondstadt, the lights of Mondstadt city could be seen in the distance. You turn your head to see Dawn Winery and remember the servants and Diluc. Especially the kindness and respect they showed you, gossiping with Moco and Hillie, the motherly care from Adeline, and the kindness the master of the house, Diluc. You wish you could go and see what’s happening with them after you were labeled as an imposter, or at least thank them for their hospitality

Before you know it you find yourself in Wolvendom, Lumine offered you her hand to help you off of the dragon

“Thank you Dvalin.”

“It was nothing your Grace.” Dvalin flapped his wings and flew off

“Are you okay? You seem like there’s something on your mind.” Lumine asked

“I’m okay, just thinking about Dawn Winery.”

Before the conversation could go any further a whirlwind of snow suddenly appears and instantly becomes intense, more intense than the winds in Dragonspine. The snowy wind concentrates into one spot to reveal the Great Wolf King of the North, Andrius. The wolf looked majestic in front of you and towered over you and your friends. The air around him dropped several degrees to the point where ice formed around the arena, shivers wracked through your body despite the thick coat you have on

“Greetings, your Grace.”

“Uh, hello Andrius.” You nervously waved at the wolf

“There is no need to be fearful of me, your Grace.”

“Oh, sorry. It’s just very different seeing you face to face, than to how I would usually see you. But I digress, I need to ask you something.” Your expression turned stern and Andrius’ ears perked at the change in your once shy tone. “Can I borrow some of your powers. If you can’t then I’ll understand.”

“The divine creator reborn into a human body was something I did not expect to happen, otherwise if me parting with a portion of my powers means their Grace returns to their former glory then it is a sacrifice I am willing to make.”

Andrius puts his head down for you to put your hand on, once you do your hand glows in a manner it did when you took some of Dvalin’s powers. Your hand stopped glowing you take it away from the wolf

“Thank you, I promise you once this is all over I will give you your powers back.”

“Anything for you, your Grace. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be able to speak to you like this. I owe you my life.” Andrius said and the wind began to pick up and before you could get a word in a gust of icy wind blinds you. “It was good to see you again.”, when the wind drops he’s gone

“He disappeared.” Paimon said

“Maybe he couldn’t keep his physical form since he gave me some of his powers.” You reasoned

“Anyway, see if you got some cryo powers, Paimon’s curious!” The fairy said as she kicked her feet

You look around to your eyes landed on a Flaming Flower Stamen. Raising your hand, you focused into concentrating your new powers until the side of your face felt the cold emitting from your hand. You flicked your hand towards the flower, the blast of cryo quickly dissipate before it can reach the flower. Confused you tried it again but the same thing happened, disappearing as soon as the energy leaves your hand

“Maybe I’m doing something wrong?” You said dishearted

“Try summoning electro.” Lumine said as she studied you intensely

You summon a spark of electro that was much larger than what you originally intended it to be

“Okay now summon some anemo.”

You do what she told you. “What are you getting at?”

“When you use either anemo or cryo the elemental energy flow is slower than when you use the other elements.” Lumine explained

“So what your saying is the powers their Grace got from Dvalin and Andrius is weaker than the elements they go from resonating with the trees?” Aether concludes

“Well it has to suffice since I don’t know long it takes until I can step foot in Snezhnaya.” You said as you put your hands in your pockets. “We’ll decide what to do in the morning, it’s getting late we should retire for the night.” Aether said

“Yeah, he’s right. We should get out of here, ‘cause I don’t want to run into any wolves. The last thing I want is to get woken up by some wolves.” You agreed

After some walk and climbing (well you were on Lumine’s back) you all find a spot that was perfect, it was on the cliff right next to the arena and no knights were stationed there. Best part it gave a beautiful view of Mondstadt city

“Stay here, we’ll gather some firewood.” Lumine said as she and Aether begin to walk away

“I’ll stay here to protect their Grace!” Childe said as he sat next to you

The twins rolled their eyes and walked towards some trees with Paimon following behind them

Once the twins were quite a distance away from the camp site

“So, how are you liking Teyvat?” The ginger asked

“It’s nice, besides everyone trying to hunt me down.”

“Yeah…”

“But I have notice some weird things.”

“Hmm, like what?”

“Mainly the moon.” You said was you leaned back with your hands propped up behind you.

“It’s so weird that the moon is constantly full here.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Back in my world it doesn’t produce light, the sun provides it. It even has stages called ‘phases’, a full moon happens every once a month or so.” You explained as you looked up at the moon. “But I find myself becoming mesmerized by it. The moon was beautiful back home but here, it fills me with a feeling of nostalgia.” You sighed blissfully as you rest your head in your hands. “It’s silly I-”

Suddenly your pulled towards Childe as a ball of fire is hurled at the seat you were once sitting in

You turn to see smoke coming from a giant claymore, wielded by a man with his long firy red hair tied in a low ponytail and some of his hair framing his face to show he’s wearing a domino mask

“Stay behind me.” Was all the ginger said before he charges at the masked redhead

Summoning his blades he makes swings towards his opponent which were expertly dodged by the Dark Knight Hero despite him hauling a giant sword

“Die Fatui scum!” He yelled as he swung his heavy claymore as flames bursts from the great sword

Childe uses his sword to block the attack, but the heat from the claymore quickly evaporated the hydro blade and thus sliced into the Harbinger, drawing blood

This is bad. With Childe’s bloodlust and the other’s hatred for Fatui, you know this will end in one or both of them dead. You got to think of something!

You could use cryo? No, it’s too weak to stop the flames

You could use either electro or pyro, but you can’t fight fire with fire and the electro might hurt Childe

So against your better judgement you take deep breath and yelled. “Diluc!” This caught the redhead’s attention

Shocked and mortified he swung his claymore at you, aiming for your face. You put your arms up to at least block a good portion of the attack. You hear the sleeves of your coat get cut. Blue beams shot past your head

“Your fight is with me!” Childe said as he shot hydro infused arrows at Diluc

Blood still gushing from his arm he draws another arrow and shoots. The redhead uses his great sword to shield himself from the arrows

“Take this!” Two voices yelled out in unison and a large sized tornado hits the masked hero

The redhead was pulled into the vortex and swirled around until the whirlwind stopped, disoriented Diluc tries to pick himself up but his arms fail him. He looked up at the direction the vortex came from and saw the iconic platinum blonde hair and white dress

“Traveler? Then does that mean…?” Diluc turned his attention towards you. “Me- Mentir?!” Diluc gasped, his eyes widen in shock as his eyes trailed down to see the golden liquid flowing from your arms. “Oh my Archons… Y-your Grace.”

You looked at your arms to see a decently sized cut on your right forearm, the left one was lucky cut not too deep. Upon seeing the blood staining your jacket Diluc instantly took a handkerchief and walked towards you but Aether and Childe step into front of you

“It’s alright you two, he means well.” You said as you pushed your way towards Diluc

“It’s not much, but when we get back to the manor, it’ll be treated properly.” He wrapped the cloth around your forearm. “I’m so sorry for harming you, your Grace.”

“You don’t have to call me that, we knew each other before things went sideways.”

“Of course, your- I mean Mentir.”

“Actually (y/n), is fine. Mentir is a fake name a gave you, sorrry…”

“Then what does ‘Mentir’ mean?”

“Funnily enough, Mentir means ‘to lie’ in another language from my world. I freaked out and gave you an obviously fake name, sorry again…” You explained fiddling with the fur on your borrowed coat

“We’ll talk about this more once we’re in the manor.” The redhead said as he gently took your hand and lead you to his home

Your face instantly heated up once you saw his features up close. Fluffy red hair framing his handsome face, sharp eyes with a chiseled nose and jawline

So focused on not drooling all over yourself you all made it to Dawn Winery

“It will be okay, most of the staff has retired for the night.” Diluc reassured as he slowly opened his front door. “Make yourself comfortable while I retrieve the medical supplies. Traveler can you help me with closing the curtains.”

You sit down at the table and watch Lumine and Aether close the drapes, soon Diluc comes back out with a small box that looked well used in his hands

You take off your jacket and the redhead kneeled down in front of you, Diluc makes quick work of your injury. Taking his gloves off he proceeds to remove the handkerchief that was a crude attempt to stop the bleeding. Once in his hands he tucked the rag into his pocket and turned his attention to you. Cleaning the wound with a gentleness that contrasts his scarred and callous hands, then wrapping your arm in gauze with a precision that came from years of practice, careful to not make it too tight on you

“There, that should be good.” Diluc stood up and took your jacket. “I’ll have this fixed and washed for you by the afternoon.”

“Thank you so much.” You smiled at the redhead

“Oh! It’s nothing, it’s the least I can do since attacking you without a second thought.” Diluc reasoned as a small blush crept up on his face

“It’s fine, I should have known, with your situation with the Fatui.”

“Anyway, what about sleeping arrangements?” Lumine said trying to steer the conversation away from the topic

“You can room with me, Your Grace! I can protect you better that way!” Childe smiled. And tonight’s is the perfect opportunity to showcase my stamina I told you about!”

The twin looked the ginger with disgusted looks that mirrored each other’s all the while Paimon looking clueless

“Ugh, can’t you show more respect instead of this degeneracy.” Diluc scolded

“If you didn’t run around playing ‘hero’ you would know a thing or two about bedding anybody, but you don’t.”

“Listen you Fatui scum-” Diluc stormed towards Childe but stopped when you stepped in between them

“Look! I will tell you what I told this one.” You hissed out while gesturing to Aether. “I am not in the mood to play referee between the two of y’all, you’re grown ass men, act like it!” Your eyes catch a glimpse of a wine bottle on the table. “Wait have you been drinking since I’ve been gone?” You walked towards it noticing it hasn’t been opened yet

Diluc turned his gaze towards where you’re standing. “I brought this down to the cellar, I do not know how this got up here.”

“Maybe you accidentally left it up here without realizing?”

“Maybe, but if that’s the case then why hasn’t any of the servants brought it down to the cellar.”

A sudden floorboard creaking catches all of your attention. Slowly creeping your heads towards the source of the noise and your all greeted with the sight of long navy blue hair, an azure eye with a four pointed star as its pupil. Holding an extra bottle of wine in his hand

“Hi…”

“Kaeya?!”

Taglist:

@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @bore2808 @nickey-diano @transbirbboi @dxprived4-starboys @angstylittleb1tch @esthelily @yurivision @angelamelamela @chocolatekuns @ghost-mint @mmmhyperfixation @legendaryexperthideout @lapinaenmicoche @sinsdumbdrabble @rebeccawinters @imyme20 @nymphsdomain @sun7lowxr @blackcoffex @itz-luna @flowerypesky @land-of-eternity @deathcvltcivilofficial @d4y-dr3am3r @yuriclouds @artwitchh @mercy-not-merci @xyaxyn

[guess-that-ship]

S14 Round 1

A Girl and her Dashing Defense

cw: spoilers

When B is wrongly accused of murdering a foreign student, her closest childhood friend A resolves to defend her and find the true killer. However, A cannot legally serve as B's defense… unless she dons a new identity, just for a day. A first, B doesn't recognize A while she's in disguise, but even after she's told who A is, B cannot stop praising her about how gallant and dashing she is. B is so enamored with A that she almost outs A's true identity several times— thankfully, no one seems to pay much notice to her admirational outbursts. After the true killer is exposed and tries to flee, A and B finish him off with their signature takedown toss!

shining alongside each other

the sun, a boy who lost sight of everything except his dream for stardom. the moon, a boy who had resigned himself to a life of loneliness. that would all change when they were brought together.

a fight between the two broke them apart, but it helped the sun rediscover why he wanted to be a star in the first place. it was to make his sister smile, and he wasn't going to give up on that goal.

despite the moon's stubbornness, the sun eventually managed to persuade the moon to forgive him. and soon enough, the two were closer than ever. inseparable. if the sun was there, the moon was most likely nearby, and vice versa.

the moon helped the sun to rediscover his true desire, the sun helped the moon to find true companions, and they helped each other to shine. the moon may oftentimes tease the sun, and the latter may seem annoyed with him, but truthfully, they're both the happiest they've ever been when with each other.

[companion-showdown]

Who do you most wish had become a companion?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Seo Haesu for the First Time

Requested. G/N. Here are the the miniscule crumbs!

There's a guy sitting at your usual table.

Not that you own the table, or you were particularly fond of that spot. But routine breeds familiarity and you've been coming to this gimbap restaurant for years now; you know the owners by name, and that table is as good as reserved for you.

(Except it's a casual little hole in the wall that doesn't take reservations, and this is just you being bratty.)

Nevertheless, despite your table being taken (as is every other one) - the food is too delicious, ingredients too fresh, price too cheap, and it's too awkward to back out now that the kind ajussi behind the counter has spotted you.

With a sigh, you ask the guy if the chair opposite is taken, if he minds you sitting there and he gives you an almost imperceptible shrug.

"Thanks," you murmur, dropping into the seat.

.

.

He's really quiet and kinda rude.

You notice his overgrown bangs pricking into his eyes because he's openly staring at you. Head propped up on hand and lazily chewing, observing you with a half lidded gaze.

He doesn't even try to hide it.

"What?" you ask defensively, eyes narrowing and folding your arms.

That annoying shrug, the small lift of shoulders, comes again and you feel like hitting him.

"Creep," you mutter, pulling out your phone and keeping your eyes glued to it because at least that's something to distract you as you wait for your food.

You think you hear a huff of laughter but you don't bother to look at him.

The next time you lift your head, the seat is empty, and there's not a crumb left on his plate.

.

.

Misfortune strikes you again and again when you find the guy at your table every single time.

What's worse is all the other seats are taken. Every single damn time too.

He seems to have lost interest in you after the first meeting and instead diverts all his attention to his food.

There's a few things you notice:

1) He eats like it's his last meal. Packing away more food possible than you thought a guy of his size could on a regular basis.

2) He loves tuna gimbap. The banchan he seems to pick at and reluctantly finish, but he eats rolls and rolls of gimbap like it's going out of style.

3) You're actually impressed. As would anyone if they saw someone wolf down thirteen rolls in front of them.

He finds you staring that particular day, and his arm comes round to protectively cover his food, raising his eyebrows in challenge. As if to say 'Get your own.'

"I've got my own!" You growl, answering him out loud.

You gesture to your own gimbap, your own special that the owners know exactly how you like it and double filled at no extra cost.

His eyes zero in on your food, and he's much more interested than he was on the first day and all the other times since then. For a moment you think he's going to launch across the table and swipe it for himself.

He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then tells you, "That looks good."

It's the first time you've heard him speak. His voice is raspier than you expected. You don't bother to respond and eat your own food at record pace out of spite.

.

.

He watches your food, not you, each time afterwards. Picks at his tuna gimbap with the same bored air as the banchan and eats like it's a chore instead of the previous fervour.

"You know you can order something else, right?" You say, fed up with your involuntary companion.

He shrugs, the air of resignation around him cancelling out your urge to roll your eyes.

"Here." You slide a couple pieces over to him, surprised at yourself for your kind gesture but if it means he's going to stare less and make you feel less self-conscious, then it can only be a win.

WIth his chopsticks, he brings your gimbap to his nose, gives it a sniff and looks directly at you.

"Seo Haesu," he says, a faint smirk on his lips before popping it into his mouth.

He closes his eyes, chewing carefully and savouring the flavour.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Series 1 Trailer for @larluce's awesome Time Travel AU!

Merlin's arms strain with the effort of hauling Arthur, barely-conscious, towards the misty shores of Avalon. It takes little more than his presence to call the Sidhe forth from their sanctuary in the lake, but Arthur groans with both pain and shock as their winged blue forms fly out of the water.

"You must save him! I am willing to give up my own life, but he must live!"

Arthur weakly struggled in Merlin's supportive arms, protesting Merlin's plan now that it had become clear that Merlin was set on self-sacrifice.

Hovering above the gleaming surface if the lake, one Sidhe gave Merlin a sharp, almost menacing, grin.

"While we cannot take your life to exchange for his, Emrys, there is another sacrifice you can make that would save your king."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur gently places a young tree that's barely tall enough to brush against his knees into a prepared spot in the center of the royal gardens.

There are no tears on his face, for he ran out of those long ago.

"I hope you like the view from here, Merlin. I think you'll be able to see out over all of Camelot in a couple years."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The knights watched as Arthur viciously pulls out the axes that had been stuck in the tree's trunk and had carved a large gouge in its base. Arthur whirled around at them, and many, including his closest companions on the round table, flinched back at his near-feral expression.

Arthur's eyes locked into the spy responsible for this.

"Anyone who so much as touches this tree pays for their transgression with their head."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So you can perform the spell, then?"

"We can, your majesty, but only with the proper materials. A blade bearing the lifeblood of 300 men and 3 dragon scales are not easy to come by."

Arthur leans forward from where he's sitting on his throne, his eyes wild in a way that disturbingly reminds the druid delegation of the look in Uther Pendragon's eyes as he hunted down every living creature with a hint of magic.

"Do not concern yourselves with that. I will gather these materials for you. Just make sure that you can perform the ritual successfully when the time comes."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two pairs of eyes, the owners of which both believed themselves to be dead moments before, blink open to the same sunny morning. An unforgettable morning that they had both lived through before, many years prior.

This was, after all, the morning that their destiny was set into motion.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed this! I tried to write some scenes that are implied in larluce's au, but are never directly shown, so that you aren't spoiled for many scenes in the au!

Check out the time travel au here! (You should definitely go read it right now because it's awesome!!)

[daytaker]

Hiiii! I’m the anon that asked for the MC’s family request and it was hilarious, 10/10 if you don’t mind May i possibly ask for a part 2 with the dateables? Thanks for reading!

(Part 1: The Brothers)

"Mom, Dad, these are my other four boyfriends and my son."

...is what you almost do say when there's a knock at the door a few weeks later while you're entertaining your parents, your sister, and teenage cousin who's stuck with your folks while your aunt is on a cruise. Your parents stare at you with faces that all but beg you to ignore the damn door. Is it that cult again?

"Open the door! Is it that cult again?" your sister asks with shining eyes. She's been discussing going backpacking across the country ever since she met those seven hot guys who apparently adore you now. Your parents are devastated.

"Cult?" asks your cousin, looking up from his Switch with dead eyes. Your sister starts explaining to him as you go to the door and look through the peephole.

Oh, Christ. Oh, fuck. Oh, son of Gardonus---it's the son of Gardonus.

Opening the door just partway, you see that it's not just Diavolo. No, he brought the whole crew with him. Barbatos, naturally, but also Solomon, Simeon, and even little Luke. Diavolo holds a bouquet of flowers and Luke has a covered platter that almost certainly contains some kind of cake.

"Hiiiii, guys..."

"MC! It's been too long!" laughs Diavolo in his booming voice.

"It's been...a month..." you concede. Why, just...why...do all these handsome men find you so alluring? This is just your cross to bear, apparently. "It isn't a great time though, so---"

"Is that them?" Your cousin is standing behind you, peering out the door.

"No, this is... Who the hell...? MC, don't tell me there are more of them?!" Your sister is clearly astounded, and also quite delighted. "Invite them in! Invite them in!"

So, soon you're standing in the middle of your tiny apartment again, surrounded by friends and family, holding flowers and a cake, and feeling like you'd love it if a chasm in the earth opened up and swallowed you.

"There were more?" Your mom sounds hurt, like you'd been intentionally hiding things from her. "How many more besides these?!"

"Arguably three, but I don't know them well enough for them to visit," you say, winking reassuringly to the nervous author.

"Oh my god, there's a kid?!" Your sister has noticed Luke now. "Holy shit! Whose is he?"

You point mutely to Simeon, who smiles uncomfortably and waves.

"I'm not a kid!" Luke protests. "I'm--"

"You're a pre-teen. We know, Luke. We know." Solomon laughs dangerously, and Luke doesn't put up any more arguments.

You clear your throat. God, this is even more uncomfortable than the last go-round.

"Um, so. Everyone, I'd like you to meet---"

(Individuals are below the cut!)

Diavolo

Diavolo, who was never good at standing by quietly while other people talked, steps forward before you have a time to do any introductions. He extends a hand to your father, who has been eyeing him resentfully all this time.

"You all must be MC's relatives. What a delightful person you've brought into this world! I am Diavolo. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"'Diavolo'?" your cousin mutters, looking at his Switch screen again. "Like from JoJo?"

Dia looks very confused, and as your father hasn't shaken his hand, he smiles awkwardly at you. "Perhaps I'm approaching this the wrong way? Are the customs here very different from...ahem. Where we are from?"

"You mean Italy?" your cousin says.

"Ah-- Yeah. Dia's Italian. People here are a lot less friendly," you tell him.

Your sister asks him how someone like him ended up in a cult.

You remind everyone that you were not in a cult.

"But you met my baby while they were away from home," Mom says accusingly, glaring at Diavolo. "When they were vulnerable and confused."

Diavolo has no idea what to say to that. Your dad is still glaring at him.

Solomon

"This is Solomon. He's---"

"I'm their mentor and closest companion," Solomon says helpfully, taking your hand. "We have a very special relationship."

You really wish that chasm would stop taking its sweet time and open up already.

"Mentor? Special relationship?" Dad finally speaks up, and his arms are crossed over his chest, his expression deadly serious.

"This must be your father," Solomon observes, still smiling. "Sir, it's an honor to finally meet you. I hope I have an opportunity to speak with you privately later. We have a lot to discuss."

Your mom is ready to throw hands with this guy. Your sister is enchanted. Your cousin is cursing under his breath at his Switch.

Solomon wraps an arm around your shoulders and you elbow him in the gut. He smiles through the pain but lets you go.

Simeon

"...Simeon. Simeon, these are my parents. This is my sister, and this is---"

"Is there some sort of attractiveness requirement to join this cult?" your sister asks, beaming at Simeon.

You remind her that there is no cult.

Surprisingly, your parents don't seem nearly as hostile to Simeon. Maybe it's that angelic charm at work. They both shake his hand, which is significantly more than they were willing to do with anyone else.

"Simeon, that's a good, decent name. What do you do for a living?"

"I own and operate a cafe."

Nice one, Simeon. Very smooth. And your parents look even more impressed.

"A business owner, eh? And at such a young age..."

No one points out to them that Simeon has probably been alive longer than humans have existed.

Luke

"...Luke!" He has a completely normal human name! High fives all around!

"And that's his father?" Mom points at Simeon. "He looks awfully young..."

"Oh, Luke's an orphan. Simeon's just his guardian. It's really sad actually. His parents died when their car careened off a cliff."

How did he end up living with a cult though, they want to know. That Simeon guy can't be a very responsible caregiver if he's living on the road.

You explain to your family (again) that they aren't in a cult, that Luke is a totally normal orphan child with a stable and loving home, and yes, Mom, he goes to school. Yes, Mom, he eats vegetables. No, Mom, you don't need to call DCFS.

"He's so cute," your sister coos.

"I am not!" Luke yaps.

"And he's shaking and everything! You know what he reminds me of?"

You rub your temples.

"A Chihuahua."

Barbatos

"This is, uh... This is..."

Barbatos smiles at you and offers not an iota of assistance. He finds this entire thing pretty funny.

"This is Barb... Barbados..."

"What, like the island?" your sister asks.

Yes.... Just like the island....

And yeah, he talks. Sometimes he talks a lot. I don't know why he isn't talking. Barbs, say something.

"It is an honor to finally meet your family, MC. What a charming collection of people."

"I like your hair," your cousin says, actually looking up for once. "And those are pretty sick beads."

You agree that Barbatos's human clothes are pretty sick.

Did you say human clothes? That was weird of you.

Your mother asks why everyone in the cult paints their nails besides Simeon and Luke. You tell her that there is no cult, but, uh, it's just a fashion thing. They just like it. Don't be judgmental.

Your cousin agrees. Don't be judgmental, Auntie. He paints his nails black. So, like, what, is he in a cult now?

You remind everyone that there is not and never was a cult.

Your cousin tries to give Barbatos his Tiktok and tumblr accounts, and Barbatos smiles very graciously but refuses on the grounds that he does not have a Tiktok or tumblr.

After you manage to get the group out of your apartment, shoving Solomon out as he farewells you as his adorable apprentice, you slam the door shut and lock it.

Your parents smile at each other, agreeing that you could do much worse than that nice Simeon boy. Your sister insists that she is going to backpack across the country with at least ten or eleven hot men, even if they do have a kid with them, and nobody is going to stop her. And your cousin has put down his Switch and is now designing a vampire OC that looks suspiciously like Barbatos.

[frostsinth]

Your Heart's Got Teeth - Pt. 3

Part 1|2 - Masterlist

Was going to post this tomorrow, but just finished a final read-through and wanted to get it up.

Let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy.

-----

“Huntress! HUNTRESS!” Came the fearful call.

I dropped the stones I had been attempting to pile out of the way with a resounding clatter. My heart leaping into my chest as I sprung forward. Jumping over the rubble and back to the street as the older matron came running up to me breathlessly. A few children half tangled in her skirts.

“What is it? What’s happened?” I demanded.

She glanced frantically over her shoulder. “The orcs are coming! Into the square! You must come inside, quickly!”

I shoved past her instead, ignoring her grabbing hands. Half pushing her towards the doorway as I moved around them. Not even bothering with words even as she frantically tried to convince me otherwise. I was already almost sprinting around the corner to the square.

The reason for her urgency quickly became apparent as I rounded the corner. The village square was the largest open area inside the walls. Once, there had been a well and tree in its center. Now there was a pile of rubble that skittered out onto the surrounding cobblestones. The buildings and houses that remained around the parameter had been commandeered for our shelters, being that the orcs wanted us all kept close, and the square was now our only gathering place. Where all those remaining gathered when the sun was up to whisper and worry and glance over their shoulders while the children picked about the stones of their former childhood forlornly.

Now there were orcs. A great number of them, perhaps almost a dozen, male and female alike. Armor and weapon clad. They had never bothered venturing into the square before. Always prowling around the streets outside. I was rather certain the last time one had set foot here was the night of the attack. I could almost smell the burning fires and hear the crash of the great tree’s branches snapping off one by one as the blaze consumed it. I did not imagine it boded well for them to be here once more.

One of the hulking beasts caught sight of me, the only human currently not cowering behind a door, and she grunted. Jabbing her arm into one of her companions and pointing. Perhaps the leader, based upon the way the others cleared space as he turned his attention at the jab and stomped over to me. I readied myself to run, thinking I might be able to have them give chase if I ran out of the square. Past their patrol. Lead them away from the others, and hope they had half a brain to take the opportunity.

I jumped as a large burlap sack landed at my feet instead. I glanced at it in surprise, then back at the orc. He watched me for a moment, then grunted. Turning over his shoulder and gesturing to the others. One by one they approached the buildings and tossed an equally large sack towards the doorways.

I grabbed the edge of the sack, tearing it open. Fearing there would be explosives, or body parts, or…

“Food.” Growled the leader. He brought his fingers to his mouth and tapped them to his lips. “Eat.”

I stared at him dumbfounded. Then back down at the bag. Which was filled with rolls of bread and dried meat. The orcs seemed to wait for a moment, looking around warily. The leader watched me, then shrugged. Giving a shout and waving the others out.

“Eat.” He told me again, tapping his fingers to his lips. Then turned and followed the others out of the square once more.

It took a few minutes for the doors to slowly creak open. For fearful eyes to peer around their edges. I watched, then looked back down at the contents of the bag. Blinking stupidly.

“… What is it?” came a fearful voice from the nearest door.

I glanced at the old man there, then back down at the bag. I almost laughed.

“Food.” I told him, holding open the sack for him to see. His eyes widened.

“Food??” He said, much more loudly than I, and I heard the word echoing around the square.

The clattering of feet on stones filled the air as more and more villagers poured out of the buildings. Retrieving the bags and opening them to find the same things I had. A few distrustful shouts pierced the growing excitement, and I noticed the older woman with her orphans slowly approach. Her expression halfway between hopeful and afraid.

“It’s a trap!” The old man who had spoken first proclaimed, waving one shaking hand about to urge the square to still. “Don’t touch it! It must be poisoned.”

Another rising chatter, and I sighed, reaching into the sack I held. Pulling out a piece of jerky. Turning it this way and that. Then swallowing my nerve and taking a solid bite. Ignoring the gasps that filled the air in the wake of my action.

“Tastes fine.” I mused through the mouthful, looking back down at it. Turning and passing the bag to the older woman behind me. “Pace yourselves,” I recommended, loud enough for all to hear, “Have a little first and see how it sits. Save the rest.”

I chose to duck out down one of the remaining side streets as the villagers suddenly all dove for the sacks. Each eagerly and greedily pulling out items. Some heeded my warning and only took a bite or two. Others ate a whole bread roll before looking up to the heavens in relief. I wandered down the nearest alley, taking another bite of the jerky, my head racing with the implications of bags of food literally appearing on our doorstep. But there were far too many people crowding the square right now for my liking. I felt a stab of guilt again, and stared down at the food in my hand. A patter of little feet on stones announced another’s approach, and I turned towards it. Just in time as a little child skirted past me, and I grabbed their shoulder. Passing them the jerky and nodding towards the square.

“There’s more. Tell any of the others hiding too.” I told her, and her eyes went wide before she nodded eagerly.

I watched her dart off, sighing a little. Reaching up to rub at the back of my neck.

“Not hungry?”

I didn’t jump at the voice, though I certainly hadn’t heard him approach. I turned to see Izu’lemi smiling, leaning against a nearby wall. Obviously he was stealthier than I had initially thought. Though I shouldn’t have been surprised to see him. Much as I tried to avoid him, he seemed to have a knack for hunting me down. It had been at least a few days since I had last seen him this time, and I considered him for a moment.

“You did this.” I reasoned, but he shook his head.

“My dad did. Told me hostages are no good to us if they are dead.”

I felt myself bristle, glaring down at the ground. “Feeding the pigs their slop before slaughter.” I accused.

Izu’lemi leapt over, patting the air between us. “It’s not like that.” He tried to reassure me. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I sighed, shaking my head a little. Too tired to point out his small minded thinking.

“This will only last a day or two.” I pointed out. “What comes after that? Who is responsible for keeping the livestock fed?”

I saw him tilt his head. “I don’t know. This is from our reserves, but we have plenty!”

“Do you? Enough for the whole winter?” I asked. “You so sure your people will want to feed their prisoners once the first storms hit?”

Izu’lemi looked over my shoulder. “… I don’t know. I’ve never been in a war camp before. Not for this long anyway.” He reached up and thumbed at his lip. “Some food comes from caravans, grain and such, some we make here. Maybe your people could make some too.”

I scoffed a little. “We don’t have the resources.” I reminded him. “And we’re not allowed to leave the center of town.”

He seemed to think about that for a moment. “You need to speak to my father.” He reasoned. “Explain that to him.”

“He won’t listen to me.”

“He’ll listen to me.” He assured me, then grabbed my arm. “Come on!”

“Izu’lemi, wait!” I tried to protest, but he was already half dragging me down the street.

I was suddenly reminded that even though he was much younger than me, he was bigger. And apparently stronger. Though he seemed completely oblivious to that fact. Rather than potentially dislocate my shoulder, I allowed him to lead me up the hill to the orc camp without resisting.

They hadn’t commandeered any of our buildings like the soldiers had, instead choosing to set up their big, rounded tents along the hill that bordered the eastern side of the village. It’s open fields had been used for communal grazing, but now it was a small city in and of itself with all the individual tents that filled one lazy slope. Between the tents were campfires, and around those fires were orcs. Dozens and dozens of orcs. I imagined there may have been hundreds by now, but I avoided counting them. Feeling a lump twist in my throat as Izu’lemi dragged me up the hill. No one had been up here since the initial attack, and I found myself suddenly filled with a strange fear. As if my presence would cement this into a more permanent reality, rather than a distant horror. I focused on the ground at my feet to avoid drawing undue attention to myself. Izu’lemi appeared oblivious to my discomfort.

On we went, past suspicious glances and angry snorts. To the biggest, thickest tent of all near the great meeting hall that had been commandeered as a jailhouse for the living able bodied men of the village. I glanced at the big stone and wood building, lingering back a step before Izu’lemi pulled me on. Feeling a pit of anxiety forming in my stomach as he ducked into the tent.

A spattering of orcish hit my ears first, then an angry growl as I fully entered. I looked over to find Jou’kiel sitting in the tent near a small fire with a mug in hand. A busty female orc currently rubbing his shoulders. He fixed me with an irritated scowl, pushing her hands off as Izu’lemi dragged me to the center of the tent. I wondered briefly, feeling my anxiety spike even more, if this was Izu’lemi’s mother. But given the boy didn’t even glance at her, I quickly dismissed that notion, and my own foolishness for caring. She was tall, though not nearly so tall as the boy’s father, and had long, thick black dreads with hints of sun-bleached copper at the tips. She cocked her head to one side, then glanced at Jou’kiel almost questioningly.

Out from scrutiny, I took the opportunity to look around the tent. It was much warmer than outside. As soon as we had stepped in, I felt the comforting warmth of the fire. The tent was probably a dozen feet or more around, with thick, tanned hides like patchwork stitched up its sides. The center was taken up by a fire pit and cooking pot, and the space smelled comfortingly of wood smoke. Aside from the fire and pot, there were a half dozen or so upturned logs. Most had things on them; bits of armor, stacks of furs, rolls of paper and sticks of charcoal. There was a particularly large bundle of furs at one side of the tent that I imagined was a bed. It looked a bit like a nest, with a slight depression in the center and a pitcher and mug ready at its edge. There were chests aside from the bed, and a few weapons and other larger items cluttering the parameter of the tent. Otherwise, the tent was open, and it was easy enough to move around what there was as we entered.

It wasn’t a far stretch of the imagination to realize this was Jou’kiel’s personal tent. His private tent, not one intended for visitors. A point which I assumed was being made, considering the growing agitation in his tones.

More orcish was exchanged between father and son, and Jou’kiel waved the woman away. She peered at me again curiously as she left, but otherwise didn’t seem inclined to argue. They might not have heard her anyways, as their volume was fast growing with each subsequent exchange.

“You need to speak to her.” Izu’lemi replied to his father finally, pointedly speaking in Common.

Jou’kiel snorted, shaking his head and leaning back on the stump. Swirling the contents of his cup and licking his bottom lip. Looking us both up and down for a long moment with a dark glower on his face.

“I don’t need to do anything.” He growled, reluctantly switching to Common as well. “I’ve already sent food. Wood is being gathered.” He waved his free hand. “Take her back to the others, Izu. Humans are to be kept in the center of the village.”

“The food will only last them a day or two!” He argued. “You need to give them more.”

“We don’t need your food.” I interjected before his father could answer.

Both looked at me in surprise, then the older orc scowled. “Too good for our food?” He said, his tones and eyes dark, “Too proud to accept help from an orc?”

“We don’t need your food.” I repeated. “We need to be able to gather our own.”

He scoffed, leaning forward with one elbow on each knee. Shaking his wild mane. “You have such idle fantasies of war.”

“Inu’u.” Izu hissed, sounding almost scolding but mostly irritated.

I put my hands on my hips, returning his scowl. “How long can you feed us all? How many men will you ask to chop wood each day?” I asked. “How long until they refuse to feed your prisoners anymore?”

The pair exchanged a look, but the older orc didn’t answer. Thinking it over for a moment, looking down at the drink in his hand.

“And you have a better option? We should let you all go I suppose?” He growled.

“Let us leave the village.” I countered again. “To hunt for ourselves. To gather wood, and materials to patch walls and roofs.”

“The manpower to guard-”

“Would be no more than what you are expending now in menial labor.” I interrupted, leaving him huffing in irritation. “You said so yourself. The orcs you brought with you are more warriors than homemakers. How long will they be content with the being the latter for humans?”

He swirled his cup again, thinking it over. His brow scrunched. Then he grumbled, taking another sip.

“I’m not in the mood for this.”

“Inu’u!” His son walked over, shoving him lightly. “You have to-”

“Enough,” He snapped, then spoke briefly to him in orcish, gesturing with one hand angrily.

Izu’lemi’s brow scrunched. He started to reply, then stopped, glancing at me. “Just hear her out!” He replied in Common instead.

Jou’kiel gritted his teeth, refusing to look at me.

“Izu, I am tired. It is late. Just-”

“This is important!” The younger orc even went so far as to stomp one foot. “You are always telling me to think ahead, to take responsibility! I’m-”

“THIS?? This is not your responsibility.” Jou’kiel snapped loudly, standing abruptly. “She is not your responsibility!”

“She’s to be my mate.” He argued, not backing down even as his father towered over him. “If you have no honor-”

“Mind how you speak to me.” The older orc growled.

“But she’s right!” Izu’lemi said, changing tactics. “The warriors will-”

His father growled, cutting him off. “Enough.”

“Inu’u, I-”

“I said ENOUGH, Izu.” He practically roared, slamming his mug down on the stump behind him. “I am tired. I have more important things. Take her back to the village.”

I tried not to stare during the exchange, feeling very out of place and unsure what to do with myself. Now, at the older orc’s formal dismissal, I took a step towards the tent flap. More than happy to be gone from that place. Izu’lemi’s lip began dangerously large, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“How come everything I want to do is unimportant?” He muttered angrily after a few tense moments of silence. “… And if this is not my responsibility, then it’s yours.”

Jou’kiel groaned, reaching up two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. Resting the other hand on his hip and letting out a hefty sigh. A few more moments, and he tossed up his hands. Shaking his wild mane of hair and returning to his stump with an angry grunt.

“Fine! Fine. I’ll hear her out.” He swept up his drink and plopped down unceremoniously. “But I’m drinking while I do.”

“You won’t regret it!” His son almost bounced on his toes in his sudden excitement, beckoning me deeper into the tent. “I really think she’s right-”

“Izu, leave.”

“But-”

He waved a hand, silencing the younger orc. “I don’t need both of you squawking at me. I’ll hear her out. Alone.” The boy looked like he was going to say more, but he growled loudly before he could. “Now, Izu. That’s the condition if you want this so badly.”

The younger orc pouted, but did as he was told. Sparing me a small wink of encouragement as he did. The tent fell quiet after he left, only the crackle of the fire filling it for a few breaths.

Jou’kiel sighed heavily. “Why is it always you?” He grumbled.

“Why did it have to be you?” I shot back agitatedly.

That made his lips curl into a semblance of a smile at the corners. He looked down at his cup, his brow still furrowed. Then sighed quietly. Reaching over and dragging a laden stump closer to the fire. Shoving the armor sitting on it to the floor. Kicking it out of the way. He Ignored the ensuing clatter and crash and patted the stump pointedly instead. I shook my head, and he grunted again.

“Sit.” He ordered, his expression growing a bit dark at my delay.

I considered it for a moment longer, but then slowly made my way over. Sitting in the indicated spot. Realizing it was closer to him than I had originally thought, seeing how our knees almost brushed. I jerked a bit as a mug of ale was pushed into my palm. The foam splashing over the top and down onto my wrist. That made him chuckle, and I shot him another scowl as I switched the over sized mug to the other hand and shook the wet one free.

“Do you speak for your people?”

I thought about that for a moment, my movement slowing. Both hands coming around to cup the mug.

“… I’m not their leader.” I told him. “I didn’t even live in the village before the soldiers came. But I know what they need. I know what they are thinking.”

He grunted, taking a deep, slow sip of his own ale. “Where did you live, if not the village?”

“Why does it matter?” I bristled. And he shrugged.

“It doesn’t. Can you speak for them?”

“I’m not-”

“I didn’t ask if you were their leader.” His grunt moved to a growl. “I ask if you can speak for them.”

“… Yes.”

A snort this time. “Good. Since you seem to think you know everything. What do you propose?”

I tried not to scowl, thumbing the edge of the mug. “… Let us leave the village.”

“To hunt.”

I nodded. “To gather wood, and other supplies. To build our stores.” I stared down at the mug in my hands. “Winter snows are not far, and with things the way they are, I don’t see the season ending the same way it started.”

There was a heavy rumbling sound that vibrated from somewhere deep in his chest. Slowly he leaned forward, placing one elbow on either knee. Thumbing at his thick bottom lip then taking a deep draw of the thick ale. A bit of foam lingered at the corner of his mouth once he finished, and his over sized tongue came out to lick it away. I tried not to stare. Tried not to wonder what those tusks were like. Were they sharp? Hard but smooth like teeth or textured like old bone? Did they feel heavy or was he used to it? Surely there were more muscles supporting them, given the squareness of his massive jaw. The thickness of his neck. My eyes trailed down, following to his collarbones, tracing over his broad shoulders and muscled chest. I almost jumped as he suddenly shifted, leaning closer to me.

“Drink.” He growled, then reached over to bring the tips of his fingers beneath the ale. Pushing it up lightly as if to guide it to my lips.

I scoffed, shifting the drink to one hand and shoving his huge forearm away with the other. He curled his lip back from his teeth, then snorted.

“Too good for orcish ale?” He asked. I shot him another bitter look, and he gave another snort in response. “Drink. My hospitality demands it.”

I gritted my teeth and rolled my eyes a bit. But did as he bid. Bringing the mug to my lips. My nostrils flared briefly before I downed a fair amount in a few deep draws. It was very strong, with a thick, wheaty taste. But not bad, and pleasantly warm. Instantly staving off the chill that had started to settle in my bones which the heat of the fire could not touch. I heard the rumbling sound of his approval and lowered the lip once more.

“Happy?” I grumbled, and jerked as he poured more ale sloppily into the mug, some splashing over the edge. Refilling what I had just drank and then some.

“No.” He replaced the pitcher on the floor by his boot, taking another swig from his own drink. “You irritate me.”

I took a smaller sip, leery of him attempting to fill it again should it present with available space. Shaking my head a little as its warm fingers slipped into my gut and wrapped themselves around me. I was already going to reek of the stuff when I left.

“Forgive me if my imprisonment does not amuse you.” I muttered.

“That.” He jabbed his finger at my shoulder and I almost spilled more of the ale across my lap. “That is irritating.”

“Oh, many pardons, your high and mightiness.” I shot back angrily, swatting away the finger he had already withdrawn. “I’ll be sure to hold my tongue in your presence.”

He took another deep draw from his mug, then refilled it. Shaking his head.

“Very irritating.” He grumbled. “Not sure how you live with it.”

“Feel free to make sure you don’t need to.”

Another grunt, and he shook his head again. The beads chiming in his hair as he did.

“Why should I care?” He half-grunted. “Why should I give your people these freedoms?”

I smashed the mug down on a smaller stump near me. Having barely resisted the urge to throw it straight into his face. He looked at me in surprise at the sound, and I stood angrily.

“If you need to be convinced to give two shits about innocent lives under your charge, then you are already more of a monster than I thought.” I snapped.

His hand shot out as I moved to stomp away. Catching my arm. Tugging me over to him as easily as plucking a flower from a vase. I wriggled in his grasp, scowling at him.

“Let me go.”

He squeezed my wrist a bit tighter. “I am no monster.”

“You sound like one.”

Another tug, and he had me face to face with him. Glowering at me.

“I want to know why you think I should care.” He said, his voice quiet but firm. “That speaks nothing to whether or not I do. I am your warden, not a nursemaid. Explain it to me.”

“I’m not here to provide morality lessons.” I shot back. “We need food. We need clothing. We need materials to repair our buildings and wood to keep our fires. If you don’t know why you should care, then I can’t help you.”

I still wriggled in his grasp, but he held me firmly in place. Even going so far as to lift the mug of ale with his free hand and take a slow sip. All the while careful to hold my gaze with his. Studying my face. I felt the burning desire to smack his.

“You would flee.” He reasoned.

“The nearest village is a week away at least,” I replied, “In good conditions. The frosts come every night already, do you think anyone would be stupid enough to freeze to death trying to go anywhere right now?” I twisted again, ignoring the pain as I tried to free myself. “We’re just as likely to freeze to death here, why go hunting for it elsewhere?”

“It is winter.” He reminded me, not even seeming to register my continued struggle against his grip. “There would be no game for hunting. Excuses.”

“There is a herd that stays the winter.” I countered. “I know where they keep to. I’ve brought more than enough back in a single day hunting them than some farmers make in a month.”

He considered me, one brow raising up. “You hunt?”

I scowled back at him. “What, women can’t hunt??”

A shrug this time. “Women can hunt.” He practically hoisted me off my feet by my wrist, stretching me out before his inspection. “Not you. You are tiny. Too weak to hunt.”

The resounding echo of the slap against the broadside of his cheek rang in the silence of the tent. He jerked in surprise, then a growl formed in his throat. Slowly, he stood, towering over me. Twisting my wrist painfully around my back. Almost pining me against him. Forcing me to crane my neck all the way back to hold his eye or otherwise have my face buried in his solid chest. He glowered at me, his lips curled back in a silent snarl, his braids draping around us like a black curtain.

“Don’t test me.” He warned.

“Don’t insult me.” I shot back.

A sneer now. “So very irritating.”

I matched his, twisting in his grasp and hiding the wince of pain as I did. “So very arrogant.”

He finally tossed me back a step, growling again and shaking his head. I brought my wrist around to rub at it. Swallowing the tears in my throat and shaking my own head. He half turned, looking around the tent. Reaching out and picking up the pitcher to refill his mug. Taking a slow sip, as if to calm himself.

“Sit.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He snorted. “Maybe later.” He turned back to me, then gently shoved my shoulder. “Sit. You bear me, I’ll bear you.”

“Why should I?”

“Because. We can do something here. For both our people.” He nudged my shoulder with the back of his hand again. “And if we don’t talk now, Izu will just make us do it all again later. Sit.”

I did sit slowly, watching him down half his drink before plopping down so heavily the tent shook. He picked up the pitcher. Refilling his mug again.

“You’re drunk.” I accused bitterly.

He shrugged. “Not yet. But trying to be.” He leaned across me, bringing his bare neck and shoulder so close I could smell him. I tensed, but he merely scooped up my abandoned mug and put it back into my hands. “Join me, won’t you?”

I didn’t take the mug right away, and he kept it poised between my hands for a moment.

“Will you even remember anything you promised come morning?”

Another snort. “I don’t make promises.” He shook the cup a little, causing ale to once again splash over my hands. “I trust you’ll make sure to keep me honest either way.”

I shot him a bitter look, but took the mug. Leery of it being dumped on my lap entirely otherwise. He rumbled in approval, leaning back and taking another long draw. When he finished, he raised one bushy brow at me pointedly. I rolled my eyes, but took a sip. His hand came out to tilt the bottom up so gently I could have ignored it, but I obediently drank a bit more.

“Good?” He asked once I had lowered the mug and he had dropped his hand away.

“Waiting for you to seem more tolerable.” I replied. “Then I’ll let you know.”

He picked up the big pitcher and sloshed it for good measure. “We’d need much more ale.”

I sighed as he refilled the mug yet again, resisting the twitch of a smile at the corners of my mouth. Thumbing the edge of it and looking into the fire. Feeling my eyes swim and my legs quiver with exhaustion beneath my skirts. The ale certainly wasn’t helping.

“Free to leave the village.” He recalled, swirling his drink. “How would that work?”

“You’re the warden.” I said. “You figure it out.”

He gave a deep rumbling ‘hmmm’. “Patrols. Curfew.” He looked down at his drink for a moment, then took a deep sip. “Escorts.”

“We need chaperons to leave?” I scoffed. “Waiting for permission? You’ll make things worse, nurse resentments.”

Another ‘hmm’. “Longer excursions, hunts. Anything in eye line of the wall does not.”

I resisted the urge to sigh again, taking a little sip of the ale.

“Fine.”

He nudged me with the toe of his boot, and I shot him a dirty look. “That’s not much of a fight.”

“Does it matter?” I quipped. “It’s fine. I can hunt. The villagers can gather wood, mushrooms, maybe even berries and roots.” I stopped short, shaking my head. He didn’t need to know all that. The less he knew, the better.

A slow nod, a slower sip of his drink. “Anything else?”

“No. Can I leave now?”

He raised his mug, holding it out towards mine and clinking them together. “Why are you so eager to go back to the cold?”

“Better than sitting in your stink.” I grumbled, taking a small begrudging sip as he spoke.

“Right.” He said, his tones dark, his brow heavy. “Because I’m an orc.”

“No. Because you, personally, stink.” I assured him.

He looked at me in surprise, then barked out a laugh. Shaking his head in his good humor. “I must be drunk now. You are not this amusing.”

“Congratulations. Can I go now?”

He heaved a great sigh, swirling about his drink again. Silent for a long moment. I nursed a slow sip as he did. Shifting a little in my seat. Somewhat reluctant to leave the warmth of his tent despite my insistence.

“Leave Izu out of this, yes?”

“I’m not looking for him.” I said. “I make a point to try to avoid him. Somehow he always finds me.”

Another laugh, quieter this time. “He’s stubborn. He has his mind set on you.” I watched his big thumb trace around the edge of his mug as he slowly leaned forward again on his elbows. “I can’t seem to tear you free.”

I glanced at the tent flap, then back at him. He seemed… smaller almost. His shoulders bowed, his head dropped. Even with his heavy brow furrowed in troubled thought. For a moment, my thoughts strayed to the knife in my boot. Wondering briefly if I could overpower him. If his death would even change anything. I swallowed another sip of ale with my nerves. Dismissing the thought firmly.

“… Stop pushing.” I suggested at last. “It makes him dig in.”

He glanced at me out the corner of his eye. “I try not to. But… ever since his mother died-” He stopped short, catching himself, then glanced at me again. His expression turning sour. “… It doesn’t matter. Stay away from him.”

I hesitated, trying to push aside caring. Especially with the sharp edge his voice took now. Trying to will myself to stand and leave. While he was distracted and drunk. Before I got caught up again. Feeling a sear of guilt wondering if the villagers had any idea where I was, or had even noticed I was gone. But feeling another stab at the thought of leaving the idiot wallowing here in his own self pity. Recognizing the way he lashed out, the false anger… the endless ale.

I took another sip of my drink. Larger than the last.

“Keep him busy.” I offered. “Give him something else to throw himself into.”

I saw his copper yellow eyes flick back up to me. I sloshed my almost empty cup pointedly. Cocking one eyebrow at him. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he took up the pitcher to refill it. Stretching so close to do so our shoulders brushed and I found his cheek practically next to my mouth. My breath hitched, my nostrils flared. As soon as he leaned back I quickly doused myself in the ale once more. Trying to bury that strange little aside before I could notice it too much.

“You’re… not, right?” He asked after a long pause.

I glanced at him. “Not what? Psychic? No. Not psychic. Have no idea what you want.”

He snorted. “Not interested. In Izu.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I chided him. “I’m old enough to be his mother. He’s a kid. Kind, sweet, well-intentioned. But misguided, and stubborn.”

A small, fond smile formed on his thick lips. “That sounds like Izu.” He took a slow sip of his drink. “… Have you told him?”

“Multiple times.” I assured him. “Did I mention stubborn?”

“Might need to mention it twice.” He agreed, leaning over to click our mugs together.

Another sip. “Something in common with you after all.”

“Sweet?” He teased. I shoved his shoulder, and he laughed. “Ah, yes, kind then. You forgot handsome.” He rubbed his hand along his chin with a smirk. “He takes some of my good looks.”

“Perhaps you need a better mirror.” I replied.

“You look like you could use any mirror.” He shot back amiably. “Your hair is always a mess. And you’re covered in dirt.”

I scowled at him. “Being a prisoner doesn’t lend much time to worry about appearances.”

“Something tells me this was a previous ailment unaffected by our occupation.” He mused. Then laughed as I shoved him again, not having shifted even an inch beneath my force. “Nah, it suits you. Dirt and all.”

That had us falling into silence. Perhaps both a bit surprised. I stared down at my mug for a long portion of it. Then took a small sip of my drink.

“… I should go.”

He gave a slow nod. “It’s getting late.” He agreed quietly. Then slowly stood, placing his cup down on his seat. Picking up his big fur cloak. “I’ll walk you through the camp.”

The fires outside had died down, and I spared another guilty glance to the meeting house as we passed it. There was a gaggle of orcs congregating down the hill a ways, so Jou’kiel jerked his head and lead me down the back. There were fewer tents here, and no campfires I could see. It was mostly quiet, and I almost slipped on the frosted grass as we made our way down. One particularly steep portion I made sure to take my time, walking the edge and leaning into my weight as gravity bore down. Just as I reached the bottom I heard a loud thud that I could feel through my feet.

Not even a breath later I gave a soft shout of surprise as they were swept out from under me as something slid into be from behind.

I landed on something firm and warm, having knocked my head against it in my fall. I tried to settle my spinning head, groping about for more solid, familiar ground. As I propped myself up, I found myself eye to eye with a pair of copper ones.

“Lost my balance.” Jou’kiel mumbled pointlessly, considering he was now on his back, propped up on his elbows, with me draped across his torso.

“Obviously.” I replied, but couldn’t move. Stuck staring at him for a moment.

He didn’t move either, our faces inches away. My body rising and falling with each breath he took, which billowed around us in a soft, warm fog. I felt my heart skip and sputter in my chest, felt my breath catch.

A distant ‘woop’ of excitement from the camp had me crashing sharply back to my senses. I scrambled up, trying to touch as little of him as possible as I did. But having to plant my palms on his chest briefly to stand. Smoothing my hands down my skirts and letting out my breath in a huff. I felt him staring as I did.

“You’re an idiot.” I said.

A soft thud and a sigh, and I looked over at him in surprise. Finding him having dropped from his propped elbows. Laying completely on his back now, looking up at the sky.

“What the hell are you doing??”

He gestured towards the heavens. “Looking at the stars.”

I groaned. “Gods above, you are drunk.”

He held a hand straight out towards the sky. “Help me up.”

“You must be joking. I’d break my arm trying.”

His fingers wiggled. “Help me up.”

“You’re an idiot.” I told him again, walking over to reach for his hand. I gave another little shout as he yanked me down. My feet slipping out from under me. “What are you-???”

“Just look.” He insisted, pointing.

I did, curling at my waist to look up. Finding myself dwarfed by the massive heavens above. Filled with tiny, sparkling lights. I looked for a moment, then glanced at him. He shuffled off his cloak, spreading it over the frosted grass beside him. I scowled, but he still patted it with a stupid lop sided grin.

“Now I’m not sure who’s more an idiot,” I grumbled, slowly laying down perpendicular to him with my head and shoulders on his cloak, “Me or you.”

“Definitely you.” He assured me. Then he sighed, relaxing and his eyes drooping lazily. “I can’t remember the last time I looked at the stars.”

I followed his gaze, hesitating for a long moment. “Me either.” I agreed finally.

“Izu liked to lay in the grass and look at the stars when he was little.” He confided in me quietly, his words a bit slurred and rough, his eyes still hooded when I craned my neck to look over at him. “He never does anymore, but we used to spend hours looking up.”

I felt a sting of pain in my throat, and swallowed it. “… My brother did too.”

“What happened?”

I didn’t answer, gritting my teeth. Regretting letting that happy memory surface only to taint it with my sorrow.

“He died.” I said at last, barely above a whisper. “Five years ago now… He was… always sick. Always frail. But… He loved looking at the stars. Playing with children. Collecting stones…” I felt my voice break, and shook my head. “This is stupid.”

“Then it suits you.”

I moved to shove him, or perhaps smack him angrily, His hand caught my arm mid-motion. Then slid down to wrap around my wrist. Engulfing my hand in his. I was so surprised, I froze, craning my head back to look at him. Uncertain what to do beneath the warm of his touch.

“Izu’s mother was the sweet one.” He told me. “She showed him the stars. Showed him tadpoles in creeks and gave him pretty stones she found.” His thumb ran up and down my wrist. “When she died, I was… Izu was all that mattered.” He grunted, dropping my hand abruptly and bringing his up to rub at his face. “Still is.”

I rolled to my side, looking at him properly. Hesitating again, chewing on my cheek.

“You’re a good father.” I told him quietly.

He turned as well, craning his neck to look at me. Dropping his hands. Studying my face for a long time.

“You don’t know that.” He decided finally. “You can’t know that.”

“I don’t need to know you, to know you’re a good father.” I sighed, shaking my head and rolling to sit up. “Izu is a good kid. So I know he had a good father.” I rubbed at the back of my neck, a smirk spreading across my lips before I could help it. “Might be the only thing you are good at.”

He scoffed in amusement, rolling fully onto his side, then sitting up as well. His cloak slowly sliding out from behind me. Trailing along the bottom of my hips and lower back as it did. I glanced at him out the corner of my eyes, watching him lean over me. His big lips curled in a lopsided smirk.

“Careful,” He warned, “That was almost a compliment.”

“I retract it then.” I replied, and he gave a deep, quiet chuckle. It seemed to rumble in the air between us. I felt my breath hitch. Then I shook my head, shoving him angrily and standing up. “I’m freezing. Stop being an idiot and go back to your damn tent.” I turned as I spoke, making my way over to the cobblestone path at the foot of the hill. “You’ll be able to find it by the heavy stench of the ale you spilled everywhere.”

He gave a grunt, but didn’t say anything else. I stomped off to the nearest building, ducking around the corner as if I meant to go back to the town square as directed. But I lingered there for a moment, out of his sight. My heart racing in my chest, my breath shallow little plumes before me. I waited as long as I could stand, the minutes ticking past painfully slow. Then dared inch back to the corner, peeking around it.

Jou’kiel was still sitting in the cold grass. Staring up at the sky with his head craned all the way back and his shoulders slumped towards his lap. I almost sighed in exasperation. What was he doing?? Why hadn’t he left yet?

I shivered, wrapping my arms around me and watching him. Waiting. Last thing we needed was the idiot falling into a drunken stupor and freezing to death. No, for the sake of the villagers, better to make sure that he at least headed back up the hill. So I stayed, feeling the cold seep back into my bones, feeling the ale still blooming in my cheeks. Studying the older orc as he sat.

Even hunched as he was, he was still large. I wasn’t sure how he was warm enough, always bare chested. But if he was cold, he didn’t shiver or otherwise show it. His fur cloak draped only loosely about his broad shoulders and down his back. He had half crossed his massive legs, and I could make out the shape of his thighs through the furs wrapped there. They must have been bear, as they were thick and furry and each piece large enough to almost fully encompass his hips. For a moment, I wondered if he had hunted and killed the beasts himself. But I chided myself quietly. He was a prince. It wasn’t likely he did much of anything for himself. Spoiled, arrogant, bull-headed. I ticked off all his faults even as my eyes studied the square shape of his jaw, memorized the shape of his lips, trailed down each neatly woven braid, counted each bead and bone that stood in stark contrast to his raven black hair. Still feeling the shadow of his warm hand around mine.

I lost track of how long I stood there, feeling my toes go numb, watching him stare at the sky. Finally, he snorted, then shifted and rolled to his feet. Glancing around slowly. I ducked back behind the corner as he did, shivering and wondering if he had seen me. But the rumble of his steps as he turned to climb back up the hill had me daring to peek around again. Watching his retreating back.

Idiot. I thought to myself again, rubbing at my arms. Shivering again, then releasing a heavy sigh. It was going to be a long, cold night. But… maybe it would be the last one for a while…

UPDATE: part four Here