#and all the other companions see through it really quickly because he keeps on remembering or adding onto the things they all talk about
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Imagine a support group being created for your exes, purely to help them move on from you
#doctor who#the doctor#dr who#dw#I'm talking about the ex-companion support group in POTD#also#imagine if you just showed up#and claimed to be one of your exes#like Mel attends the group#she visits 14 a lot#I can totally imagine her dragging the Doctor and Donna into it#saying it would be “good for him”#but he doesn't want them to know who he is because it would be so awkward#so he pretends he was his own companion#and pretends that 15 telling him to go get therapy was the break up#and all the other companions see through it really quickly because he keeps on remembering or adding onto the things they all talk about#and he doesn't travel with stupid people#so it's awkward anyway (especially for him and Yaz)#someone please draw this#I've been thinking about it for months
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Lemonade - Part 1
Lemonade || leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader
Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah. But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?
Chapter Warnings: death, pregnancy, mentions of stillbirth, house fire, hospitals & doctors
a/n: In this universe Alessia has a fictional older sister
~ I originally posted this a while ago but took it down because I received a bunch of hate for it. A few very nice people have encouraged me to put it back up, so I will see how I go. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but if you don't like this, please just scroll by. 💜 ~
PART 1
--
You didn’t fully remember what had happened that night.
It had all started off very typical. You’d had tea and a bath and watched a bit of telly before heading upstairs to your room for bed. You were 7 now and a big girl, and certain you didn’t need tucking in anymore, so you gave your Mummy and Daddy kisses and cuddles before you went to brush your teeth and then snuggled under your bed covers to keep reading your current library book, Matilda.
At some point you must have dozed off, because you woke up as your Daddy popped his head in through your door to check on you.
“You alright, Bunny?” he asked. Your nickname had been Bunny for as long as you could remember. You had been given a bunny stuffie named Arthur by your Nana on the day you were born, and he had been your trusty companion ever since. Bunnies were also your favourite animal, however you weren’t allowed one as a pet because your Daddy was allergic. Apparently that meant he came up in big bright red spots whenever he got near one. Surely there was some kind of cream that though.
“Can I come sleep in your bed with you and Mummy?” You had made sure to use your biggest, pleading eyes to try and convince him.
“Ohh alright. But you have to remember to be careful of Mummy’s leg, okay?”
Mummy had hurt her leg a couple of weeks before. She had been playing netball when someone on the other team had crashed into her and she landed poorly. You weren’t totally sure what was wrong, but you knew that it was apparently worse than whatever Aunty Leah had done to her leg. But it was also not as bad because your Mummy wasn’t a professional at netball, she just played for fun, and you think maybe they also won some wine sometimes but you’re not 100% sure. Anyways, she had to go to hospital and have an operation and now she was on crutches (which you weren’t allowed to play on) and you had to help around the house a bit more because it was tricky for Mummy to get around. You didn’t mind though, you were happy to be her little helper.
As you reached your parents room (Arthur clutched tightly under your arm), you found your Mummy already in the bed, her leg propped up on a pillow under the blanket. Before she had a chance to ask what you were doing there, you quickly rattled out “Daddy said I could come sleep with you, please please please!”
Your Mummy just laughed and patted the spot beside her on the bed. A few moments later you and Arthur were snuggled under the covers between your Mummy and Daddy and drifting soundly back to sleep.
The next time you awoke it was to a screeching alarm, one you recognised from when Daddy had tried to bake Mummy a birthday cake but had burned it really, really badly.
“Bunny! Sweetie, wake up!”
As you opened your eyes you realised you were surrounded by thick black smoke. Your chest felt tight, and the smoke stung your eyes so badly you couldn’t keep them open. Everything felt foggy and faint and you could feel yourself quickly falling back asleep.
“Just take her! Save her! Get her out!”
You heard your Mummy’s screams over the blaring of the alarm. You would hear those screams in your nightmares for the rest of your life.
The next thing you remember was being outside your house and your neighbour Mrs Green was passing you to an ambulance man. You had Arthur clutched in your hand by his ear as the man lay you down on a wheely bed and put a funny smelling mask over your nose and mouth.
Then you were at the hospital and there was lots of nurses and doctors scrambling around, poking and prodding you. You had still had the mask on your face that was filling your mouth and nose with funny smelling air. There was a big needle sticking into your arm connected to a bag on a pole that kind of hurt a bit. But worst of all, at some point you had lost hold of Arthur, and you could see him lying sadly on a bench across the room.
“She’s awake.”
“Y/N. Hi, my name is Doctor Smith. We’re just looking over you to make sure you’re doing okay. We’ll get you back to a room really soon and then you can see your family, okay?”
Your family was here! Thank goodness. Whatever had happened, your Mummy and Daddy were fine and you would see them real soon.
You breathed a small sigh of relief but still reached out instinctively for Arthur. A nice nurse with dark hair and big, round glasses noticed and looked over at the bunny.
“Is he your special friend?”
You nodded frantically.
“He’s very dirty at the moment, so he’s going to need a bath before you get him back for cuddles, I think.”
You realised that his normally light purple fur was closer to a dark grey colour, but you couldn’t understand how he got so dirty. Surely a bit of smoke doesn’t get a bunny that dirty.
And then it hit you.
Smoke.
You’d only seen smoke come from a few things in real life before:
When your Daddy had burned that birthday cake
From the cigarettes the old ladies who sat outside the newsagents smoked
When there was lots of pretty fireworks and sparklers after Aunty Lessi and Leah won a big trophy
After you blew your birthday candles out
Smoke came from burning things. Had Arthur been burned?
Before you could ask any questions, you were being wheeled into a room where your Nana and Aunty Lessi were. You loved your Nana and your Aunty Lessi, you really did, but you wanted your Mummy and Daddy. Where were your Mummy and Daddy?
“Oh Y/N, oh sweetie. Oh, thank God you’re okay.” Your Nana was crying as she reached for your hand and kissed your forehead.
You tuned out your Nana and the doctor’s conversation as out of the corner of your eye you spotted the nice nurse with the big, round glasses hand over Arthur, who had now been put in a plastic zippy bag, to your Aunty Lessi. She whispered something to her you didn’t hear and Aunty Lessi nodded and put him carefully in a big sleepover bag she had with her. You wondered why she had a sleepover bag with her here at the hospital.
“Does she know about…?” your Nana asked.
“No. We thought it best that she heard it from family.”
You snapped back to the conversation going on over your head at these words, catching your Nana nodding as she wiped some more tears away from the corner of her eye.
“We’ll leave you be to have some privacy. One of the nurses will be back in a while to check on her, but of course, don’t hesitate to press the buzzer if you need anything.”
As all the hospital staff left, your Aunty Lessi came around to the other side of the bed and gave you a hug as best as she could, trying not to bump your mask or the big needle in your arm.
“Nan-” you attempted to talk, but the smelly mask on your face was making your words sound all mumbly jumbly. You also noticed that it hurt a bit in your chest and throat when you tried to speak, your hand automatically coming up to rest on your neck.
“It’s okay sweetheart, you don’t need to speak. You just rest, okay?” your Nana told you.
You nodded, aware that there was something going on. Something definitely wasn’t right. Your eyes flicked between the two women, noticing that their eyes were red and puffy as though they’d been doing lots of crying.
After a long, awkward silence that seemed to stretch on forever and ever, your Aunty Lessi finally started to speak.
“Bunny, sweetie, there was a fire at your house. We don’t know how or where it started, but there was a very bad fire, and it looks like it has destroyed the whole house.”
Your eyes widened as you began to put it all together – the smoke, the alarm, your Mummy screaming…
“Sweetheart, your Mummy and Daddy didn’t make it out. We don’t know a whole lot yet, but we know that your Daddy ran out of the house with you and gave you to a neighbour. You were very poorly and not breathing very well, and that’s why you’ve got to wear this mask to help you breathe. He went back into the house, we can only assume to try and help your Mummy because she can’t… umm couldn’t move around too well because of her leg. But they never made it out of the house.”
You didn’t really understand. What did she mean they never made it out of the house? Where did they go? Where are they now?
“Bunny, do you understand what I’m saying?” your Aunty Lessi asked.
You shook your head furiously. You just wanted to see your Mummy and Daddy. Why weren’t they here? Were they hurt? Were they also lying in beds somewhere with masks on their faces and needles in their arms?
Your Nana stood up from her chair and sat down softly on the bed beside you. She stroked her hand over your face a few times before cupping your cheek gently in her hands.
“I’m so sorry, Bun… Your Mummy and Daddy, they… oh Less, I can’t. I can’t say it…”
Your Nana pulled away from you, burying her head in her hands as she stood up and turned away slightly.
“It’s okay, Mum. I’ve… I’ve got it.”
Your Aunty Lessi swopped in and scooped your face gently into her hands, running her thumbs soothingly over your cheeks as you looked at her with confusion.
“Bunny sweetie, your Mummy and Daddy… d-died.”
You think your Aunty Lessi kept talking but her words just faded into background noise as you tuned out everything around you. You were there, but not really. Your body was, but your brain was just running over the words “Mummy and Daddy died” over and over and over and over until they lost all meaning.
Mummy died.
Daddy died.
Mummy and Daddy died.
You felt sad, but mostly you just felt kind of… nothing. It felt almost like the sadness was a balloon that grew too big, too fast and it had popped and now all you were left with was nothing.
In the movies and in your books when people died, their family cried lots and lots. Your Nana was crying, and it seemed like your Aunty had been crying. But you didn’t feel like crying. You did really, really feel like rubbing the soft fur of Arthurs ear across your cheek over and over and over though.
--
You had stayed in the hospital for a few nights before they let you go home.
Well, not really home.
But your new home.
You were going to live with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah. Your Aunty Lessi was your Mummy’s sister and Aunty Leah was her wife. They both played football for their jobs and travelled a lot. Before�� well, before, you would go and visit them, or they would come visit and you would tell them all about the books you’d been reading and what you’d been learning in school and show them all the different breeds of rabbits there were in the big scrap book you’d been putting together. That scrapbook was gone now though. You weren’t sure if you would start making a new one.
Your Aunty Lessi had the most beautiful smile, and she always seemed to be able to make everyone laugh and be happy. And your Aunty Leah was always a really good listener, and she gave the most excellent hugs. Sometimes you would go and watch them play football, but you weren’t really interested in sports. It was always too loud and there was way too many people there. But it was always exciting when your Aunty Lessi would score a goal though, because if she knew you were in the crowd, she would point in your direction and make a heart with her hands.
You liked your Aunties. You loved them. But you’d never spent the night at their house or had a sleepover with them. You didn’t know any of the rules, and you didn’t have your Mummy to remind you of them before you went. You wanted to be on your bestest behaviour, having read far too many stories and seen too many television shows about children whose parents died and then their new families treated them poorly. You didn’t think you’d do very well in an orphanage or living on the streets. You weren’t very tough like those kids were.
You’re not quite sure what to think of your new room at your Aunty Lessi and Leah’s house. It’s very… adult. A bit boring to be honest. Just a big adult bed, a dresser and two bedside tables. There is a big window however that overlooks the back garden that you quite like. But you’re just grateful for somewhere to sleep really, thankful that your Aunties are letting you stay here at all. You’d happily sleep on the loungeroom floor.
“We will pretty it up and get you lots of new toys and decorate it however you want, Bun.” Your Aunty Lessi was stroking your hair as you cuddled into her side. “This is just temporary until your new bed and furniture arrives and we get you all settled in, okay?”
You nodded gently, not really knowing how else to respond. You were a bit shocked that they’d ordered you a new bed and were going to get you new toys.
“We did get you a few things to start you off with, just until we can all get down to the shops together to pick out some stuff. I hope they’re okay…” Your Aunty Leah gestured towards the corner where you could see a few boxes and some brightly coloured stuffies peeking out through the handles of some shopping bags. You looked up at her and blinked, unsure as to whether you were meant to thank her or go and inspect the items or what.
“We can go through that stuff later if you like?” Aunty Lessi suggested, squeezing your shoulder. “How about we grab something to eat for lunch?”
Just as you were turning to leave the room, a tuft of light purple fluff caught your eye among the bags.
"Is that Arthur?" you asked.
"Oh, your bunny? Yes, Aunty Leah gave him a really good bath and got him all clean again."
You dashed forward and grabbed him from the pile of other toys and clothing, bringing him up to your face to rub his soft ears over your cheeks.
You wanted to say thank you, but those words didn't seem big enough. Instead, you hoped that someday, somehow you would be able to somewhat show your Aunties how much you appreciated them.
With Arthur now tucked under your arm, the three of you made your way down the hall towards the stairs.
“Oh, and remember that is mine and Aunty Lessi’s room,” Aunty Leah gestured towards a door on the right of the hall, pushing it open with her foot. “If you ever need anything during the night, please don’t hesitate to come and get us. I’m up and down all throughout the night going to the loo anyways because of this one,” she smirked as she rubbed her growing belly.
“Does it hurt? Growing a baby?”
You don’t really know why you asked. You were curious, sure. Your own tummy hurt a bit when you ate too much food, so surely having a baby in there hurt lots. But now definitely wasn’t the time to ask that kind of question.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
However your Aunty Leah just chuckled and nodded at you. “It doesn’t exactly hurt, but it is rather uncomfortable at times, especially if the baby moves into an awkward position or kicks a weird spot.”
“The baby kicks you?” you asked.
“Oh yeah! They’re gonna be a striker just like your Aunty Less, I’m sure of it!”
Aunty Lessi nudged you and pointed at your hand. “You might actually be able to feel the baby move some time, Bunny”
“Really? Could I?”
Your Aunty Leah’s smile was a big and bright as you’d ever seen it. “They’re moving around now. Do you want to try and feel?”
You nodded excitedly. You had always wanted a baby brother or sister. Your Mummy and Daddy had told you once that there was one on the way, but then a while later when they’d gone to the hospital, they came home really sad and said that baby brother was born sleeping.
You had only just turned 4 when that happened, and you didn’t understand why they didn’t just wake him up. But Daddy explained that that is what people sometimes say when the baby isn’t born alive.
Mummy had been sad for what seemed like years after that. She spent a lot of time in bed, and she cried more than you’d ever seen her cry before in your life. You’d tried to cheer her up by drawing her pictures and singing her songs and giving her your biggest, bestest cuddles. But Daddy said the only thing that would make Mummy better was time.
He was right. She had slowly returned to her normal self. You were very grateful, because you had missed the little things like the silly songs she would sing when she would wash your hair, and the smiley faces she would make out of blueberries in your pancakes.
As your Aunty Leah gently cradled your hand and brought it up to her swollen tummy, you felt a small whooshing movement under your little hand.
“Did you feel that?”
You nodded quickly, your gaze meeting your Aunty Leah’s as she smiled tenderly at you. You couldn’t believe you could feel the baby moving in her tummy. It all started to feel very real.
“They’re moving around quite a bit tonight. I think they’re quite excited to have you here with us, Bun.”
“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?” you asked.
“No, we decided to wait until the baby is born to find out and let it be a surprise. We really don’t mind what their gender is, we’re just excited for them to be here and to meet them. Oh, there they go again, did you feel that kick?”
You nodded again, pulling your hand away from your Aunty Leah’s tummy as a sinking feeling began settling in your own.
You knew you weren’t a part of your Aunties plan. They were having a baby, and becoming Mums, which you were sure was something new and super exciting for them. But now they also had you to look after as well, which they weren’t expecting and had probably changed so many things for them. Surely, surely they would be much happier without you here ruining their perfect new little family?
#woso fanfics#woso fanfic#leah williamson x reader#alessia russo x reader#arsenal x reader#leah williamson x alessia russo x reader#woso fic#woso imagine#woso x reader#lemonade#leah williamson#alessia russo
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haiii :D anon who requested courting rituals with kabru here !! i meant to imply somewhere like southeast asia , ( although i could totally see kabru being from an area near the himalayas or something , like nepal , since he shares a name with one of the mountains ) but i intentionally tried to specify it reallyy vague so anyone could relate ! (๑>◡<๑)
but to be fair , i dont really think dungeon meshi really mentions the southeast much or even at all ?? (`_´)ゞother than the mention of toshiro being from the eastern archipelago , so i'd imagine reader would be from one of the various scattered islands there towards the south ? :0
( also if you need an example , some traditional courting where i'm from is something like meeting the parents and asking for permission to pursue , handwritten letters , meaningful conversations , various gifts like flowers , and serenading ! plus just genuine respect and a willingness to wait ^_^ even though im pretty sure kabru would get a bit impatient sometimes ehehe )
i know it sounds like something pretty simple but even the little things can go a long way ٩(^‿^)۶ !!
suitor
…ft! kabru x male! reader
…tags! courting, mentions of marriage, meeting reader’s family, reader is from an unspecified place outside the island, dancing, mentions of having kids
…word count! 2025
…notes! tried to make these imagines broad but not extremely so, and some of these courting gestures do have a little kabru flare to them because he’s like that. feedback is greatly appreciated, because i want to make sure my writing is accurate to each request!
Kabru isn’t someone I’d see dating casually. Sure, he frequently uses his charm to sway people’s opinions and get them on his side, but I don’t think he’s really been in a proper relationship before at all. So if Kabru’s pursuing you, it’s for keeps.
Family is a really important thing in courting/marriage culture all around the world, so trust and believe that one of the first things he does is try to get on good terms with your family members.
Don’t underestimate the man, he will somehow deduce the mailing addresses of your immediate and extended family and immediately started getting in contact, saying he was a friend of yours and telling them about the time spent with you. Pretty quickly after that, your family starts sending you letters telling you that you should’ve told them about that lovely young gentleman you’d met sooner.
“Kabru?”
Arms crossed, you did your best to remain steadfast even as your companion looked at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile.
“Yes?” His response was laced with false innocence, but you knew he knew. He just got a kick out of hearing you say it yourself.
With a sigh, you would slump your shoulders and ask, “how did you find out the mailing address of several of my family members?”
“Oh, that was just a coincidence,” the man lied. “Remember when one of your packages got misdelivered to the tavern? The return address happened to stick in my memory, and I got curious to learn more about your family. After all, they contact you quite a bit, and I was curious about your relationship.”
Despite your lack of a headache, you rubbed your temples with your index and middle fingers to express your exasperation with the man. Kabru was great, he really was, but sometimes he confused you greatly….
“You could’ve just asked, you know that?”
The close-eyed smile he gave you in return let you know that you probably hadn’t gotten through to him much.
“I just thought it would be a nice surprise, don’t you agree?”
He might not express it much outwardly, but deep down, Kabru is really worried about being good enough to obtain the blessing to pursue you. That’s why he tries to cover as many bases as possible to be the best possible suitor for you.
When he does get to meet your family in person, he does as much preparation as humanly possible to make it all go perfectly. He studies up on local politics, sports, and cuisine in order to be able to make good conversation with your family.
I think Kabru also rather likes kids, so he’s extremely good with any younger family members you may have, which is likely to score points with your parents and other adults in the family. Kabru loves hearing the funny things kids say and seeing what sort of things their vibrant minds come up with, so he’d do things like play pretend with them. He’s also pretty physically fit, so he could play a sport or outdoor game with them too.
Even if he appears perfectly calm on the inside, he was absolutely scared shitless when he asked your family for permission to pursue you. He would assure them that he’s very much prepared to be with you in the long term, and even came prepared with things like savings for marriage or even a dowry if that’s something that is typical in your region.
Overall, Kabru is a polite, poised, and extremely well educated young man, so he’s someone that pretty much any parent would want as a son-in-law. Hearing their words of approval was like lifting the weight of an entire city off his shoulders.
“I was so worried,” your partner would admit after the fact. Completely unable to wrap your head around such a thing, you said the first thing that came to your mind.
“How could you be? You’re perfect, Kabru. If anything, I was worried you’d have something better to do than settle down with me.”
Those piercing blue eyes bored into your skull, looking at you as if you were the most insane man in the world for having said such a thing.
“How could that be when you’re perfect too?”
The question left you in such a shocked and flustered state that you hardly noticed him move into you felt both his hands holding one of your own, thumbs resting almost reverently on top of your ring finger.
“It’s almost embarrassing now to admit that at one point in time, I didn’t see a future for myself. I guess that was because I hadn’t seen you yet?”
A ‘pfft’ sound escaped your mouth almost instantly. “Oh, no need to use your smooth lines on me.”
Both thumbs pressed down on your finger ever so slightly, in the place where perhaps a ring might go.
“I mean it, I really do.”
Whether it be providing for you or taking care of a home, Kabru does his best to learn anything he needs to no one order to be a good partner. The man actually isn’t very good at taking care of himself, so him learning housework and cooking for your sake really goes to show just how devoted he is.
In fact, on one of your dates, he surprises you by presenting you with a dish he cooked himself — one from your homeland. Even if it’s not perfect, you can tell he put so much love into it.
“The arrangement of it is kind of messy, I know….” Seeing Kabru of all people acting sheepish was certainly a rare sight. As strange as it was, thinking about the implications of such a thing made you feel all warm inside. He really cared for you that much, huh……
“It’s not the appearance of it that matters, it’s the taste.” You were quick to reassure him, smiling as you took the necessary utensils in one hand. “Besides, knowing that you tried so hard for me is more than enough. I mean, I hardly ever see you cook for yourself.”
There was no way Kabru could deny your statement, so he could only nod and look to the side. Instead of directly addressing your correct assessment of his skills, he pivoted into an adjacent topic. “Cooking has always been a gesture people perform for the people they care about. All over the world, it’s something that connects families and couples… it’s only natural I should try it, regardless of my skill level.”
Your partner’s explanations of his acts of service, despite sounding like they came right out of some textbook, never failed to charm you. At its core, it was yet another reminder of how hard Kabru worked to understand how to be a good partner for you.
“It means a lot to me,” you reassured him, lifting the food to your lips, not quite eating it yet. Kabru did his best to keep his expression stone still to hide his anticipation as you inhaled the scent of the dish, making a small humming noise in reaction that he couldn’t help but overthink on the inside. Was it good? Bad? Did he not use enough spices? Too many spices? He knew he should have triple checked the recipe…
While the tallman was overthinking, you readily accepted the labor of love into your mouth, deliberating on its texture and flavor as you chewed. A sharp exhale escaped you immediately after swallowing, after which you would chirp with delight,
“It’s really nice!”
Kabru’s shoulders relaxed for the first time in the date. Mission accomplished.
I imagine Kabru keeps a journal not only about daily events, but also about people, so sometimes as a gift you might get one of the pages of his journal that has an entry about you. Sometimes the page may also contain little doodles or sketches of you, many of which were when he was admiring you without you noticing.
Kabru’s got a pretty nice singing voice, actually, and he seems to speak multiple languages, so he may try learning songs in your language to sing to you. It’s as smooth and romantic as you’d imagine, but if you start singing along with him, you can see him start to melt the second he hears your voice. You really are his weakness.
Another thing — dancing! Kabru has likely had ballroom dance lessons, but other types of dance are ones he’s more unfamiliar with. If you ever know a regional dance you want to teach him, he’ll be happy to learn, albeit super embarrassed at his own clumsiness. Being able to romance you with honeyed words and picture perfect gestures is something he prides himself on, but you reassure him that he’s just as charming even now.
A chorus of ‘sorry’s followed almost in time with the rhythm of your own feet. The man responsible for said chorus, however, didn’t seem to have much rhythm of his own yet, and was feeling rather bashful as a result.
“It’s rare that I get to see you clumsy, Kabru.” There was a teasing lilt in your voice that the other man immediately read into, despite his best judgment. Logically, he knew that you would never say something intentionally cruel to or about him, but when he was always so eager to have your favor, it was hard not to worry.
Another apology escaped his lips, after which one of your hands left its assigned position to rest under his chin. The movement of the rest of your body stilled, focusing only on getting the one you loved so dearly to face you. Blue irises were met with not a trace of malice, only the truest of endearment.
“It’s fine, Kabru.” The affection in your voice paired with how insistently you pitched these words to him gave him the strength to smile and nod in understanding, his own paranoid be damned. Resolving his habitual apologizing sated you, though you were certainly not done loving on the man that you called yours.
“Honestly it’s nice to be able to teach you things firsthand. You spend a lot of time reading about things, probably to surprise me, which is great, don’t get me wrong — but I like this.”
The little head tilt you did without thinking drove him wild on the inside, but he did his best not to show it. It would be so easy to kiss you like this.
“I like being able to feel like I can teach you something, even when you know as much as you do.”
Considering it made you this happy, Kabru might start asking you to teach him things a lot more often. For once, the thought of putting the situation in someone else’s hands made him feel warm inside instead of uneasy.
“Yeah, I like it too.”
Fashion may not be one of Kabru’s biggest interests, but the sight of you in any culture or region-specific clothing that you like always has him in awe of just how dashing you look.
This goes double if it’s your wedding and you’re wearing a traditional outfit, maybe even something passed down in the family. You might as well just kill the man then and there, really.
Speaking of marriage and family, I think Kabru would actually really like adopting a kid some time in the future, as long as everything is stable and such. Kabru himself was adopted, so the idea of becoming a home for a child who may have lost the home they had before is a concept rather close to his own heart.
Future used to be something Kabru fought desperately to create for all of humanity while never, ever considering his own place in it. So much changed after meeting you — he could actually see himself having a future now. Being an important character in a story instead of just the person telling it to somebody else.
More than anything, you saved him. He doesn’t tell this to anybody other than you, but as you lay together at night, he insists he wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.
#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ fallow’s works!#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi x reader#dungeon meshi imagines#delicious in dungeon#delicious in dungeon x reader#delicious in dungeon imagines#kabru x reader#kabru of utaya x reader#kabru of utaya#kabru dungeon meshi
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I'm tired of my ideas always being big. It's overwhelming. I like seeing others' WIPs and ideas because they're just so simple... Like, that comic about a mermaid living in the ocean in our modern time and dealing with plastic trash. So simple and my own brain is bursting with ideas. But my own WIPs... they just start huge. I'd like something smaller... but I don't know how.
Stories Always Get Too Big
Stories can get out of hand quickly when they sprout too many independent threads. There are three primary culprits that serve as sparks that create these threads:
1 - Setting 2 - Non-Protagonist Characters/Relationships 3 - Back Story
The thing to remember, though, is that no matter how interesting your setting is, no matter how compelling your other characters are, and how fascinating the back story is, those things are not your plot.
Plot is the sequence of events through which the protagonist (and potentially other main characters) attempt to resolve the story's conflict by overcoming obstacles and setbacks in pursuit of a goal.
In other words, focus on this:
the protagonist > their normal world > the event that introduces a problem they must resolve > the goal they formulate in order to resolve that problem > the events that occur as a result of their pursuit of this goal > their attempts to overcome obstacles and setbacks encountered along the way > their attempt to solve the problem once and for all > failure or success > life in a changed situation/world
Anything else doesn't need to be there unless it is critical in order for one of the above steps to make sense.
So, let's take your mermaid example... though I haven't read that comic so I'm winging it here:
the protagonist = mermaid normal world = doing mermaid stuff inciting incident = finding plastic trash in the water goal = clean up/find the culprit and teach them to do better events = cleaning up, learning about humans, tracking down culprit climax = mermaid appeals to humans to do better finale = mermaid is living in a cleaner ocean
Now, let's say your brain starts to go off on a tangent about a deep oceanic rift and an evil merman wizard who lives there... stop right there. It's a fun idea, but what does it have to do with this story? How does it relate to the trash, clean-up, finding the culprit, or appeal to humans to do better? It doesn't. Theoretically, you could make it make sense... like, maybe the merman wizard likes the trash and wants the ocean to be dirty and gross, so maybe he is opposing the mermaid's attempts to clean up and to appeal to the humans. Okay, that works, so you can keep it. But, let's say you also have this idea about these creatures that live around the hydrothermal vents, and the mermaid meets and falls in love with a scientist who's studying them. Okay, again, interesting idea, but this one is much harder to fit in with the rest of the story. Sure, you could say the scientist is studying marine pollution instead... that brings it back around to the main conflict, but still, what does this relationship add to the story? How does it help or harm the mermaid's mission? How does it help to explore the story's themes or help deliver the message? It doesn't really sound like it does, so this would be an example of a thread you can probably snip.
And the thing is, it would be okay to follow a thread like that while you're plotting or writing your first draft, just to see where it goes and see if you can make it work. Part of why we edit and revise is to snip out the threads and elements that aren't pulling their weight. But learning how to curb them as they occur to you will help save you work later on down the line. Try writing those ideas down in an ideas document, and maybe those can be worked into different stories, a sequel, or a companion story.
One final note: I am very much aware that there are some epic writers out there who let wild tangles of threads sprout as they write, and they follow them all without abandon, relevant or not. That's okay, too. These are writers for whom that works, who don't feel overwhelmed by all of those threads, who want to write something bigger and more unwieldy. Maybe in time as you get accustomed to writing smaller, tidier stories, you embrace the bigger stories your brain wants to tell. Or maybe you don't. Whatever works best for you is all that matters. :)
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A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.
TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader
“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”
“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”
“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”
— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll
vi. Mourning
It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.
Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.
So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly.
It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.
Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.
"Hey Ace?"
He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.
"Do you…like…being my friend?"
The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.
"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.
Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back.
"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"
Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."
He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.
"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far."
What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.
Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.
Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.
"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.
Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.
"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?"
Another question out of left field.
"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke.
"Yeah…" they murmur back.
"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.
"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"
"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"
Yuu shakes their head.
"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"
Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."
But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.
-
He should've known something was up since that night.
When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual.
"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.
The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.
Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-
-then what had he done?
When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that.
The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"
Bang! Bang!
He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.
"Yuu–!"
"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-
"Ace, look at me!"
He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.
There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while.
"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.
"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.
Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.
"What do you mean they're–"
"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."
Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–
He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.
He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"
"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."
And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.
He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.
Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.
But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.
Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.
Please let this be a bad dream.
-
He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things!
Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-
Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone.
Ace tried two more times to meet you.
First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.
The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.
Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).
It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.
He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter.
And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.
vii. Embalming
The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.
That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.
Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.
No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.
The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough.
He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.
It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now.
What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly.
The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.
It has your face. It acts like you.
But it's not you.
When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”
“You were so sure only because of that?”
He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.
But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.
Grim is missing again.
This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.
But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First].
The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).
But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.
The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.
“Go away.”
Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.
“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu.
“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”
“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”
His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.
“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”
“What? What do you mean?”
Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”
He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”
“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”
“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.
“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”
It bursts into laughter at his face.
“Why, I only granted their wish!”
Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.
What did you wish for?
-
It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon.
In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations.
And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.
Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.
“Come in.”
A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.
“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in.
“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.
“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.
“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out.
"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.
“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.
“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”
He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”
Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation.
For once, he starts to resent not having more.
"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"
This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.
"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"
"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance.
"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes.
"Not the weird rules again…"
"Ace."
"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."
"You better, or else it's–"
"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…
Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander.
Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?
"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.
"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts.
“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”
“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”
For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.
“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.
But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in.
“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.
“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”
viii. Calling Hours
“I’m not joking around, you two.”
There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.
“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”
“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”
The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.
“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”
“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”
"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"
It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.
“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”
Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"
"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally."
Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."
The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.
"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.
"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."
Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.
A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.
"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"
"Don't even start." Trey groans.
Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—
A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."
Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement.
"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"
Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."
Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."
"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.
"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."
"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."
Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?
He supposes that was his fault, though.
"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"
The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."
Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."
"Yeah, but look how that turned out."
"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"
Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash.
"Cater."
There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'
"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.
"Please don't lie to me next time."
With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen.
Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.
Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?
It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.
It's just not fair.
Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-
He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.
He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.
Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.
-
There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.
“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.”
The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.
“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”
“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.
It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.
There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt.
Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough.
Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?
Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?
His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him.
"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"
You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards.
"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.
"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?"
Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."
The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…
But satisfaction brought it back.
viiii. Eulogy
It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.
That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.
Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.
“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him.
The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors.
“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.
“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”
“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)
“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”
Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved.
Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.
“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”
Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day.
He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?
Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.
“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”
“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”
Trey swallows hard.
“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”
“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”
He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.
Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.
—
Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).
But he worries.
Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges.
It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.
Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down.
He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.
As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.
If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants.
Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.
So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him.
He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute.
You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.
The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.
Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate.
The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes.
His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily.
He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other.
You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air.
What was that?
x. Entombment
It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.”
Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”
“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear.
Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.
His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.
“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back.
“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”
“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.”
Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.
“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.
“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.
It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace��he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…
“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.
“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary.
What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.
Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.
He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.
—
It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago.
To never get on Cater’s bad side.
There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you.
Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.
"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"
Deuce's neck prickles.
"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.
"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.
"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says.
“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”
“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.”
Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed.
“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”
“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.
“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”
“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”
Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak.
“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.
“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”
“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”
Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam.
“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone.
Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.
He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking.
Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#my works#damn this is the most ive ever written.....insane
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𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢
context: finally confessing to Levi after failed attempts (gender neutral reader)
warnings: none, just fluff
character: Levi Ackerman from AOT
m.list
“I love you, Levi Ackerman”
“Excuse me?” Catching Levi off guard was rare, few had ever seen it, Levi himself had rarely even experienced it. He was always on guard, always aware of his surroundings, ready for anything. But not this. Not your sudden confession. In the middle of dinner, surrounded by everyone. Erwin and Hange looking between you and Levi, completely silent, anticipating your response.
“Listen, I tried, I really really tried to keep it in. But goodness it’s been hard. And it’s not like I haven’t tried confessing at better times, it just always seems you’re busy, and it’s impossible to be alone with you, so I just had to tell you…” you trail off when you see all the eyes on you. The whispering and giggling of the other soldiers somewhat discouraging your words, but it wasn’t their opinion or response you cared about. It was Levi’s.
Levi frowns, pinching the space between his brows, closing his eyes for a few seconds before finally straightening up. Grey eyes meeting yours. “This is hardly the place to discuss such matters Y/n. Come with me”
“Oh-uh, someone’s in trouble”
“Shut up Hange” you whisper yell as you follow Levi out from the mess hall. Awkwardly laughing at the other soldiers who watched the two of you.
“Are you trying to be funny?”
“No sir” came past your lips before you could even process the words. It wasn’t like you had thought it all through, confessing to him in public. Basically yelling it for everyone to hear. Did you consider the fact it would make Levi uncomfortable and angry? No, no you did not. “Commander, do you realize how hard I’ve tried to confess in a…better circumstance?”
Levi sighs, clearly annoyed. His arms crossed under his chest as he looked you dead in the eyes. His patience was running short, yet, he seemed to let you finish talking. “Go on”
“Wait, really?”
“You either talk or I walk away”
Your lips part, ready to tell him all the times you had tried confessing, but nothing came out. Why was he letting you tell him? After you had embarrassed yourself, and maybe even him, in front of all the soldiers. Why did he care?
Levi took a step back and you quickly stammer to find your words. “Right! Uhm! There was that one time in your office!”
“Here are the papers from Commander Erwin” you hand the papers to Levi, throat slightly dry as you take on the courage to say the next part. “A-also, I was wondering if you’re free for a drink anytime after work”
Levi didn’t answer at first, sitting in his office chair, going through the papers you had handed him. “I don’t drink” he said simply, not lifting his gaze from the papers.
“Oh, that’s fine. We can, uhm, go out for tea?”
“Why would I go out for tea when I have it right here���
You look down at the teacup in front of him, steam still swirling in the air from the hot liquid. He wasn’t wrong, why bother going out for tea when he, in fact, had it right here? “I was just asking because it was would be nice to get to know you better, like, a dat—”
Your words die out once the door to the office opens, a breathless Hange entering the tidy room. “Levi, Y/n, there’s an emergency!”
“That was you asking me out? You think I heard your mumbling about a date?” Levi scoffs, seeming unamused. “And you gave up after that sorry attempt?”
“Well, no” you say embarrassed, looking down at the ground. Clearing your throat as you recall one of the other times. “Remember the time at the stables?”
You were taking care of your horse, as usual. It was calming more than anything. Brushing your horses mane, making sure she was clean and fed well. Giving her occasional kisses and sneaking extra apples for her. You also enjoyed it because your horse was placed in the stall next to Levi’s horse. You often saw him take care of his companion whenever you were there doing the same. The way he took such gentle care of the horse, it didn’t exactly help with your feelings for the man. “Uhm, Levi, do you ever wanna, I don’t know, go on a casual ride with our horses?”
“Casual ride?” He seemed almost offended and you regret even asking. “What, so we can exhaust the horses even more. They’ve been through enough, do you not think so?”
“Right right right, you’re absolutely right, mhm, sorry for bringing it up”
“Casual ride. Not good enough”
You let out a slight groan, hiding your face in your hands. “I know I know, I was so embarrassed afterwards. But that wasn’t even the last time I tried…I was so determined to confess or ask you out, embarrassment wasn’t enough to stop me. Remember, uhm, when we were training and—”
“You fell on top of me?” He finishes your sentence. “It’s not exactly something I can forget Y/n”
Sweat was running down your brow, heart beating in your ears as you train with Levi. He often picked you to train with, you weren’t really sure why, because more often than not, you fell straight on your ass or face and got made fun of by Hange. But it did make you stronger, even faster, your reflexes had also improved.
“Hey Levi, I know you’re busy, but maybe we can talk in private after this?” You ask, sword at the ready as he stood opposite from you. Arms flexed, swords in both hands as he made his fighting stance.
“Tell you what, you beat me and I’ll listen to your rambling for once”
Hearing Levi’s response definitely made you more determined to win. Perhaps too determined. You don’t know how, but somehow throughout the fight, you had landed on top of Levi. His back hit the ground, and you hit, well, him. More specifically, his crotch.
“Oh…oh my…oh” you were speechless, watching as he groaned underneath you. Safe to say, there was no talking afterwards and Hange had two people to tease that day.
“So you gave up after that?” He asked after recalling the memory. He wasn’t dumb, he was very aware of your feelings for him. Often catching you staring, not to mention the special treatment you gave him. Asking if he was cold, asking if he wanted your food if he was still hungry, asking if he was tired. Just, making sure he was okay.
“Well, clearly not. Didn’t you hear me saying I love you in the mess hall?”
“I think everyone heard” Levi scoffed, studying your expression. You didn’t seem too embarrassed. But you didn’t seem like your usual self either. He knew why, he hadn’t exactly reacted to your confession. Not telling you if he felt the same or rejected you. “Y/n, I don’t date”
You stay quiet, lifting your head to look at him. Swallowing hard and putting on the realest smile you were able to. “I figured as much, I just, needed you to know I love you. I couldn’t keep it in anymore, even if you don’t feel the same”
“That’s not what I said” he corrected, gaze not leaving yours. His arms uncrossed, resting by his sides. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the small scars from battle visible on his forearms. You always thought he looked so handsome in his casual wear, and you always wanted to tell him, this didn’t exactly seem like the right time to.
“Oh uhm, what do you mean?”
“I didn’t say I don’t feel the same. I just said I don’t date”
It was your turn to frown, not understanding what he meant. If he doesn’t want to date you, doesn’t that mean he doesn’t feel the same?
“Whether I love you or not doesn’t matter, I don’t do relationships. We don’t have time for that as soldiers. Neither do I want to get too attached to you, anything can happen, we lose soldiers everyday Y/n. I don’t want to be carrying your dead body back to the walls, feeling heartbroken and attached and getting distracted”
“But…” looking away, you decide it’s better not to disagree with him. He was your captain after all, he had authority over you and you followed his commands.
“Go on, speak your mind. It’s not like you to back off from it”
If you were in a better mood you would have laughed, but considering the situation, it didn’t seem like the right time. “If you feel anything for me Levi, wouldn’t it hurt either way to carry my dead body back to the walls? If you love me, but don’t act on it, it doesn’t change the fact you do love me, the feelings are there. And you might not only be sad if you lose me, but wouldn’t you regret never having acted on your feelings? Why do you think I never gave up on confessing? I tried multiple times exactly because of the fact we risk our lives every day. If I lost you and I never had the chance to tell you how I feel, I would regret it for the rest of my life…but that’s just…my…opinion” your words trail off, realizing you might have gotten too emotional, raised your voice a little too much.
It was too quiet, Levi not saying anything nor was he moving. You didn’t dare look at him, keeping your gaze down at the ground. Staring at his boots that always seemed so clean.
“I don’t regret my decisions” you hear Levi’s voice, softer than it usually is. His fingers wrapping around your chin and lifting your face to look up at him. “I don’t date…but maybe I can make an acception for you” his deep silver eyes look into yours, fingers brushing against the skin on your jaw. He was being surprisingly gentle, not wanting to push you away. His gaze softens at your expression, seeing the confusion and surprise clear on your face. “I’m saying I…I love you too, and I want to take care of you, more than I’ve taken care of you before. You’re right, I don’t want to regret it in the end”
Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around his slender waist and pull him close to you. Feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the subtle change in his heartrate picking up. His arms slowly returning your embrace. “Okay I don’t feel so embarrassed about confessing in front of everyone now”
“Not so fast, I’m still putting you on extra cleaning duty for that”
“Levi!!!”
#levi x reader#levi x you#levi attack on titan#levi fluff#snk levi#levi ackerman#levi aot#captain levi#aot x reader#attack on titan#aot fanfiction#aot#aot fluff#Spotify
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pokemon trainer au! gojo x f!reader. reader is a fairy gym leader and satoru is league champion and a flying type trainer. fluffy fluffy. couldn’t have done this without my beloved @moondust-lore so thank you as always nesi 😚 wc 1.5k
part one (you are here), part two, part three
divider by @/cafekitsune
All good adventures start with two rivals.
At least that’s what you’ve been told your entire life, your own mother regaling you with tales of her rival for as long as you can remember, long before your now full grown Lapras was even developed enough to sing her song.
Your Lapras was a gift to you from her rival and your first Pokemon, gifted to you by a man she grew up several houses away from that was once a wide eyed boy with big dreams of opening a Pokémon academy to encourage the study of these creatures in their natural habitats. He successfully opened said academy, you even attended it for several years of your life, but your rival never came along through the years that passed.
The children in your neighborhood paired off quickly, setting their own parameters for their journeys and leaving you on the outside. Your schoolmates paired off and most of them have opened their own gyms, just like you, or settled into other aspects of their lives with or without their rival.
You never really minded and still don’t, though, pleased to enjoy life flat on your back in the grass of the surprisingly large meadow that backs up to your gym, gazing at the clouds floating overhead. A rival isn’t a necessity and you’re glad, honestly, that the stress of having to keep up with someone else is something you have been able to dodge for the most part.
“Hey!”
Until today.
You sit up, brows furrowed, and that’s when you see the man who may very well be the rival you’ve been looking for.
Satoru Gojo, current Pokémon League Champion.
His starlight colored hair flops over his eyes that are covered by glasses but you know what they look like behind the dark frames because they’ve been plastered on every magazine for several months. You know his name, everyone does, and it’s hard to truly imagine why he has come back after your many declinations of his requests to battle.
“Satoru,” you huff, his name leaving your lips with a tinge of amusement as he approaches with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He grins at you and it’s cheeky as it ever has been, glistening teeth tucked between pretty mauve lips and topped with dimples.
Infuriatingly charming and handsome, as always. It isn’t enough to be powerful, he hit the lottery in more ways than one.
“Ah, is that any way to speak to an old friend?”
Snorting, you slowly rise from your spot on the ground to your feet, your beloved Espeon bounding to your side to look up at you quizzically. You shoot a wordless glance in her direction and she wraps her twin tail around your legs, looking between you and the man.
She wonders if today will be the day you give in and finally say yes to his requests for an actual battle. It has been a long time since you’ve utilized her in any sense beyond as a companion and while she doesn’t ache for battle, there are times she wishes you’d push yourself and the rest of your Pokemon a little bit harder. Less leisure, less tenderness, less lazing around.
But she also knows you, her trainer and friend, and knows this is the life you’ve chosen for all of them out of compassion so her eyes flit expectantly in Satoru’s direction while you stroke between her ears.
“We’d be friends if you would learn to take no for an answer but until then we’re just acquaintances.”
You smile and it’s sweet, no bite despite your sassy words, and the man shakes his head. He finds you equal parts fascinating and amusing, the tales of how fiercely you and your team used to battle on your own journey to become a gym leader spurring him in your direction two years ago.
“I didn’t come to ask you to battle today.”
Despite your firm no’s, he keeps coming back for no other reason than being around you. You are refreshing, unaffected by his power and status, something he has longed for since becoming Champion. It’s just you and your companions and he can never shake just how happy all of you look when he stops by impromptu.
“Then what can I do for you?”
He shuffles closer to you and reaches down to run his finger over the velvety ear of your Espeon who remains still as ever, her eyes shutting. You scoff and roll your eyes.
“Don’t mind her, she’s shameless.”
Chuckling, he shrugs and looks around the meadow to spot who else you are spending time with out here. Your Lapras floats on the small pond, blinking slowly in Satoru’s direction. A Grookey ruffles the grass a few feet away from you, ears poking out between pastel colored flowers and your Skitty shakes her tail in his direction, an invitation to play.
It’s so unlike his own former gyms which confirms he made the right decision. The decision? Well, he already anticipates watching your jaw drop before he speaks the words aloud for the first time.
“I’ve decided to vacate my spot as Champion to go and travel.” Your jaw does drop, eyes widening in shock.
“Can you even do that?”
He nods, thumb still pressed to the Espeon’s velvety ear.
“Not without a lot of argument but yes and I’ve already done it so there’s no changing my mind.”
You understand, approaching and placing a hand on his shoulder. The touch isn’t unwelcome and he plays off the pink on the tips of his ears, glancing down at you through white lashes.
“I wouldn’t ever try to change your mind but will you tell me why?”
Gojo sighs and it’s almost concerningly heavy for a man who is so light as air he even partners with Flying type Pokémon specifically. You feel for him, certain the pressures of being Champion can be enough to get even the strongest of them all down, and you keep your hand pressed to his shoulder.
“When I was working toward becoming Champion my focus was so singular I missed out on everything. I only did what had to be done to get here and now I’ve realized I haven’t experienced, well, anything. I want to enjoy the journey and not simply the destination.”
Your heart beats hard in your chest, moved by his honesty. You’ve always been friendly with the man and it’s not a wonder that he’s Champion, he is the strongest, but you do wonder why he came here to tell you this.
“I want you to come with me.”
Breath catching in your throat, you are shocked by the words.
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. If anyone can show me how to slow down and enjoy it, it has to be little miss on her back watching the clouds roll by.”
The nickname is a bit of a mouthful but you smile anyway, looking up at him and twisting your mouth to the side.
“Let me ask the council,” you shoot and he nods understandingly, watching you sink to a squat beside your Espeon.
“What do you think?”
She chirps excitedly and you sigh, hoping she’d be on your side for once, but her thirst for adventure is bigger than her loyalty to you by some strange miracle. It has been too long since you and her and your friends have been out on the routes and she hungers to roll around in new grass. You pet her again and nod, rising to standing.
“Okay. I’m sure I’m the last person you asked and the only one to say yes and I’d hate to leave you lonely.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “You were the first and the only one I wanted to ask.”
Espeon chirps again at your feet and you toss her another glance, forgetting how astute your partner truly is despite the separation of Pokemon and human between the two of you.
“I’ll be back in three days to pick you up so make sure you have everything you need.”
Your traitorous heart pounds even harder knowing what’s to come. Traveling, alone, with Gojo sounds undeniably thrilling and you will ponder later when you’re alone what’s to come.
For now, you smile and nod.
“Okay, champ. But know I won’t make the journey easy on you.”
He grins once again, pearly whites gleaming while Grookey hops out of the grass a few feet away from him and clings to his leg, the large man kneeling slightly to pet the creature.
“Which is exactly why I invited you.”
The words are so loaded even you catch the weight and you shuffle from foot to foot, Espeon still wound around your calves. The sun blazes overhead and clouds continue to pass and in an instant you realize that you may not have gained that rival you’ve been dodging but perhaps you’ll yet gain a friend.
“I won’t keep you for any longer but be ready for me, okay?”
You nod and try to hide your grin by tucking your chin against your chest and glancing at the ground below.
Perhaps you’ve gained something more than a friend, even.
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How would the companions (minus longfellow) act with a Deaf/HOH Sole Survivor ?
I made this because silly and my sole survivor is half deaf :))
Preston
Preston already has a concept of signed gestures and hearing loss, from trying to communicate around artillery or in battle. He’s even met Deaf/HOH settlers before, but never before has he travelled with someone who couldn’t hear. It takes him a bit to get the hang of communication, learning conversational signs from Sole and making sure he’s in clear view when he talks if they lip read. That being said, it doesn’t change much, he still sees them as that leadership role the minuteman need. He ends up getting Sole to teach passing minutemen signs so they can communicate or trying to teach them all himself once he becomes more fluent.
Deacon
He’s hesitant at first, after all if you can’t hear yourself you gotta be loud as all hell. When Sole proves they can be stealthy though, he changes his tune. They both sign often to keep conversations more secretive and he’ll act as ‘interpreter’ on missions so he can pass by with less attention.
Hancock
Hancock has DEFINITELY met a Deaf traveler before, I mean it’s Goodneighbor. I think he would communicate with writing things, whether on dirt or walls or any available paper. Now that he’s traveling with Sole though, he’s trying to learn so he can communicate easier with anyone passing through Goodneighbor. (Though I think he’s definitely the guy who wants to learn curses and phallic words first).
Strong
He surprisingly doesn’t immediately hate them for it. But he will get frustrated when Sole don’t respond. he eventually figures out that they’ve been signing to him and their responses are all half guesses. He thinks about leaving but then remembers that they’ve lived this long without hearing ANYTHING (this is untrue, you may be able to hear something but he doesn’t know that). So he stays with Sole a bit longer, relying on gestures and lip reading if they can. They both learn that his big hands don’t make great signing and he gives up on learning anything expressive and slowing learns receptively by watching them.
Curie
Curie finds it fascinating, but not surprising that Sole can survive out here. She likes watching them and studying how they function in the world without hearing. When she’s still a nanny bot she very easily learns receptive sign, but when she gets her new body she’s ecstatic to use it for herself and quickly takes to signing back to Sole. She’s a quick stumbling kind of signer though so she can be hard to understand.
Cait
Cait and Tommy are super fucking confused when the person who killed every raider in the combat zone doesn’t respond at first. Her first impression is that they were stupid or playing a joke, she’s never met a Deaf person before. When she and Sole first travel together she finds the ‘what’s, ‘huh’s, confused faces, and or lack of responses extremely annoying. As they travel together though and she starts to realize they really view her as a person she’ll apologize. She never really gets good at sign but she’ll sign small things to you and struggle to understand when Sole signs back.
Maccready
This guy also already has a concept of sign. But not conversational in the slightest, still, he takes to it like a duck on water. He’s probably ending up the easiest to sign to (other than like Nick) because he ends up focusing on learning sign for like a few months straight and is using it constantly after. He does tell Sole that he wants to teach Duncan when he sees him again or get word passed on to his old home since it could prove useful to Deaf and hearing kids.
Gage
He’s a bit confused at first, and in all honesty considers leaving them in that ratty ass bumper car room, but he remembers that they need a new overboss and it’s not like they haven’t had people with hearing loss in the raiders gangs before. He finds most of the things they do pretty normal, like lipreading and being extra vigilant, hearing can be hard, and words muddle together, it only makes sense that you’d watch someone’s mouth to know what they’re saying- wait that’s not normal? Huh, maybe the years of explosions and gunfire are getting to him.
He does end up learning sign and finds it a lot easier then verbal communication
Nick
Nick is already fluent, he knows what Deaf people are from his past memories. He doesn’t even realize he knows sign until him and Sole are talking and he ends up enjoying travelling with them. Nothing much really changed about your relationship. The Kellogg case does become more difficult since they can’t hear him in the memory den
Codsworth
He was with Sole pre war and due to his programming he already understands signing but can’t sign back. He mostly just points and stuff.
Piper
Thank god for Piper. Due to the speaker entrance chances are Sole wouldn’t get into Diamond City unassisted. But with Piper’s scheme they both got in with ease. She realizes there’s something up immediately and when Sole tells her about their hearing she immediately tries an interview. This of course does not go well. As they travel together she tries to pick up sign but never gets good at it. One thing Sole misses out on are her yap sessions. Don’t get me wrong, she still has them, but they both know that there’s no way in hell that Sole is understanding most of what she’s saying.
Dogmeat
Honestly, he probably won’t notice at first, he protects Sole the same and unless they’re nonverbal he’s probably gonna take awhile. He might just think they’re quiet. After some time though Dogmeat will start listening to and watching for signed command and instead of baking to alert them he’ll paw at their foot or jump and try to catch their attention if he’s too far away and still in view. They both work out pretty well, he’s a good dog.
Ada
Ada has never met a Deaf person and Sole cannot read Ada’s lips so it’s a struggle. They eventually get a similar relationship to the one Sole would have with Strong.
X6-88
What the fuck is this hand language, why is Father not like this? How is this person still alive? So many questions. He’s never met a Deaf person and no one’s told him, they’ve had broken synths who can’t hear, is that the same? He asks a lot of questions, some uncomfortable or kind of rude and honestly sucks at first, but once he gets to know them and realize he’s getting closer to Sole, he apologizes and tones it down. He ends up taking to sign pretty well and realizes how useful it is in day to day as well as battle. He ends up acting as an interpreter if Sole lets him.
Danse
At first he thinks they aren’t listening on purpose, then realizes what’s actually going on. He’s never met a Deaf traveler. Being already bad with people this makes him anxious, which comes off as aggression, but he realizes how much easier it is to be around them. He doesn’t take part in small talk and takes to sign pretty well. Similar to X6-88 he’ll probably ask a lot of questions, some being a bit rude. Though, at least he’ll have shame when asking these at least.
#fallout 4#Fo4#gage fo4#porter gage#headcannons#preston garvey#preston fo4#deacon fo4#hancock fo4#strong fo4#curie fo4#cait fo4#rj maccready#robert joseph maccready#maccready fo4#nick fo4#nick valentine#codsworth fo4#piper Wright#piper fo4#dogmeat#ada fo4#X6-88#paladin danse#danse fo4#teehee#im so cringe
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"I could kill you."
The voice still didn't want to obey her. It scratched her throat and chest, was too low and hoarse. Red stared at the man who knew her and whom she didn't.
Gortash shrugged nonchalantly:
"I don't doubt you, nor do I doubt your ability to control your urges."
"You should."
This was all wrong. This "dinner," his behavior, his words. Red tried to rummage through her mangled brain, but only came across faceless shadows. One of them resembled Gortash, but remained a shadow.
"How can you be so sure?" Red rubbed her throat dark with veins. She knew the others were afraid of her. Almost everyone took their eyes away from her face, flinched at the low rattle of her voice, expected to be about to draw their weapons.
And only Gortash alone was calm despite everything
He sipped his wine, looking down at his glass:
" I've known you for ten years, Red. You can control yourself."
Red snorted. Well, compared to Orin. 'No more than that.
"You don't believe me. Well."
Finishing his drink, he quickly rose to his feet. Red watched him approach suspiciously, expecting anything but the tyrant kneeling before her. A chair rattled, pushing back as she jumped up. Gortash watched it with his usual smirk. It didn't even take remembering to be sure: it was the way he grinned all the time. Red roared:
"Decided to play games, eh?"
She looked around anxiously, expecting an ambush. Gortash, on the other hand, was watching her, too calm to not make her nervous. Her tail twitched at her feet.
Gortash said quietly:
"You won't kill me, Red, because I know you. You're not a crazy beast like Orin, you control yourself. The only one left to make sure of that is yourself."
She froze, staring at him. Her breathing quickened, her instincts sharpened. As if mesmerized, Red reached for his throat. Claws touched the swarthy skin. It seemed as if Urge was about to take over, spinning her head habitually, leaving nothing but blood… But nothing. Her body was with her, and no familiar desires blossomed in her chest.
Red breathed out, running her fingertips along his neck upward, to his chin. Gortash's skin was rough and warm, with scars invisible to the eye but noticeable to the touch. The stubble pricked her fingers. Red took his chin gently, lifting it and peering into the black eyes.
Gortash nodded:
"I told you so."
His fingers encircled hers, the cold metal of his claws scratching her skin lightly. Gortash brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Almost weightlessly, but still causing her to exhale in surprise.
If it had been anyone else in his place, and the room would have drowned in blood, but everything was still the same.
He stood up, confident enough to keep her interested.
"I know you, and far better than any of your 'companions'."
"I could have killed you."
"Actually, you couldn't. You're standing very close to one of traps and all it would take is my desire to activate it." Gortash said it casually, as if he was talking about the weather. Red snorted. What else would you expect. No one would put their life in her hands, especially someone who loved that life so much.
Still not letting go of her hand, Gortash said:
"You are magnificent, especially now, returning what was rightfully given to you. And that's why I'll be around to help you do it."
"By almost killing me?"
"You're alive and well. I see no reason to be displeased." With a cheeky smirk, he kissed her knuckles again, and reluctantly let go after all. Red glanced out the window. If she was going to go back to camp, she should have gone now. But was she going to do it today?
"You promised to tell me about me. About the past."
He laughed, sitting down on the edge of the table like a boy:
"You've really changed! You used to complain about me talking instead of doing. But I'm true to my word. What do you want to know?"
Red looked at him again, without any hostility. And then she tried to grin at least.
#bg3 gortash#dark urge x gortash#enver gortash#baldur's gate 3#bg3#bg3 oc#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 gif#lord gortash#gortash x durge#bg3 glassred#glassred#durge x gortash
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ooh for the tav asks maybe 2, 4, 10, 22 and 56 for Emra and Virranan (and any other tav you wanna ramble about) :)
Ty for the ask! This one got a bit long so its going under a cut 😅
[Tav Ask Game]
2. What is their class (+ subclass) and why did you choose it?
Virranan: Gloomstalker Ranger, originally they were a beastmaster, but as I fleshed out their backstory gloomstalker just ended up fitting better. As for why I chose it, Vir was my first tav and in every game where I have the option I will always start with a ranger/bow user.
Emra: Great Old One Warlock, picked because of an old convo me and my buddy had about the insane 600ft eldritch blast you can get in Dnd and a hypothetical sniper character you could make with a gun as the focus.
4. Is there a reason why your Tav starts out as Level 1?
I haven't really thought about it much, but its probably mostly just the tadpole for both of them with a mix of Emra being out of his element and Vir being drunk enough to kill 3 grown men before his abduction.
10. What was your Tav like as a child?
Virranan: Before their father's death they were a quiet, curious, and incredibly observant child. Most of their time was spent reading or people watching or wandering the woods around their house. The only friend they had was their raven familiar Quothe, but they didn’t care too much as other kids tended to think they were…odd.
The year after the death of their father, she became despondent and spoke little, he spent most of his time to himself and was content to simply watch the world happen around them.
Emra: An incredibly unassuming child, he tried his best to blend into the woodwork. Being the top dog of the creche meant a lot of pressure and falling to the bottom got you killed so staying in the middle of the pack was his primary goal.
22. What is your Tav's first impression of the other companions (Astarion, Gale, Karlach, Wyll ...)
Virranan
Astarion: Trying to pull a knife on them isn't the best first impression, but it is familiar. She has a feeling that they might have a lot in common, maybe a bit too much.
Gale: Reminds him of the men they used to escort, upper class and too talkative for their own good (even if she actually enjoys listening).
Karlach: Big, loud, and from what she can see, completely honest, probably the most trustworthy out of the lot so far.
Wyll: There's more to this man than meets the eye, he’s too good to be true, nobody acts like that unless they’ve got something to hide. He does seem genuinely nice though so they'll try to put that suspicion to the side till he lets something slip.
Emra
Astarion: Bit of a bastard but who isn’t and it's not like this is the first time he’s had a knife pulled on him so no harm no foul. Dealing with him is like herding cats though, which he could definitely do without.
Gale: Talks way to much but at least he's got an okay voice to listen to, and a wizard is always a good this to have on your side.
Karlach: It’s been a long time since he’s almost been eye-to-eye with someone, seems a kindred spirit and like she’s got a good head on her shoulders.
Wyll: He seems like a genuinely good man, but men who burn as bright as him burn out just as quickly, and he's got a sneaking suspicion he's got a secret something to keep him going, maybe the same something as him.
56. What did your Tav think of the Mindflayer colony?
Virranan: Not much honestly. Disgusted? Mildly, but this is around the time when they realize things are truly getting serious and they’re too busy focusing on the tasks at hand to take in the entirety of the horrors that surround them. Even thinking back on it all he can really remember is freeing Zevlor and Mizora, and killing Ketheric, everything else is a messy blur.
Emra: That place is definitely making it into his top 10 worst places he’s been. He just tries to go through the motions to get where he needs to be without getting covered in too much gore. The one redeeming moment was getting to see Lae’zel accidentally drench Astarion with the gore shoot.
#ask game#oc: virranan#oc: emra#extra thanks for asking about emra!#he's been on my mind recently so I was hella happy to talk about him
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Sorvus Week 2024 | Prompt: Camp (No Warnings Apply)
Soren didn’t get why he had to watch Callum. It was a few weeks out in the woods, and there would be other people to look after the prince (step-prince, Soren added sullenly). What was the worst that could happen? Plus, camp was his thing. He’d been looking forward to it all year.
Thinking back to the previous summer, he could still remember the sense of satisfaction he’d felt after beating one of the older boys in a sparring match. All the kids in his year had cheered, and afterwards one of the instructors had come up and said that he was proud of him. This was Soren’s thing. This was what he was good at. The one thing he was good at.
Why couldn’t his Dad see that?
But Viren had asked him to watch Callum. Well, sort of. He’d told King Harrow that he would keep an eye on the young prince, and Soren had been there, so it was sort of like asking because he could have said no. Except he didn’t, because if his Dad needed him to do it, then of course he would.
Just think of it like Crownguard training, Soren thought, hoisting his pack up a little higher as he led Callum down the trail towards camp. It’ll be good practice.
It wasn’t like the young prince seemed especially thrilled about it either. He wasn’t really the outdoorsy type. Which was being plainly illustrated by the fact that he was daintily making his way around the muddle puddle that blocked their path. Soren just stomped on through, enjoying the little waves that his steps kicked up. He wasn’t as big a fan of his soggy socks afterwards, but that couldn’t have been avoided.
“Soren, wait up!” Callum called, struggling to keep pace with his longer strides. Sometimes Soren forgot how small the other boy still was. He stopped for a moment to let his shorter legged companion catch up before forging ahead again.
“Are we almost there?” Callum asked after a moment, still a few steps behind.
“We’ve only been walking for like, five minutes." Soren pointed out. “Anyway, you’re the one who made us take that fancy carriage instead of just arriving with the rest of the kids.”
“King Harrow wanted us to take the carriage.” The other boy corrected him.
“Yeah, so you wouldn’t have to do the hike.”
Yet another thing I won’t be doing this year because of stubby legs back there, Soren added in his mind.
“And yet.” Callum managed, words coming in between huffing breaths. “It feels like we’re hiking right now.”
“This is the shortest way I know.” Soren told him. Which was mostly true. Technically it was the second shortest way that he knew up the mountain, but Callum didn’t need to know that. It would only make him complain more.
“Just… how long do you think it’ll be?”
Soren turned to face the other boy, opening his mouth to say something about how it wouldn’t be taking this long if he would just hurry up - but Callum had his hands on his knees, cheeks puffing out with every breath.
“Hand me your pack.” Soren said instead, holding out a hand.
“What?”
“Your pack. I’ll carry it.”
“But you’re already carrying one-”
“I can manage.”
Callum handed over the heavy bundle of camping equipment and Soren shouldered it alongside his own.
“Thanks, Soren.”
He only felt a little guilty at Callum’s grateful smile.
“Yeah, well, come on. Try and keep up.” he forged on ahead, Callum still trailing a few steps behind, but at least seeming less likely to topple backwards.
It was a solid twenty more minutes before they arrived at the camp. The sun was beginning to set as they trudged into the clearing that had been chosen for this year’s gathering, most of the other boys already having gathered to huddle around the great fire pit at it’s center. Soren started to make his way towards them, but was instead nearly swept over by the sudden flurry of activity that sprang to life around Callum.
There must have been at least four attendants, brushing quickly past Soren to hover around the prince, offering clean clothes and refreshments. Soren wrinkled his nose, dropping Callum’s bag to the ground at his feet. One of his helpers would be able to find it, surely. None of them so much as gave him a second glance.
Stalking past the fire pit and the other campers, Soren found a spot at the edge of the forest and began erecting his tent. Nobody offered to help, he noticed. Though somebody was building Callum’s for him. Soren’s frown deepened and he hit the tent peg he was hammering with a little too much force, nearly splitting it.
“Drat.” he muttered under his breath, being more careful with his next strike. The familiar repetition of the process helped, and by the end of it, he was pretty sure he’d never been frustrated in the first place. Pretty sure.
Still, he didn't really feel like joining the other boys for campfire stories, so instead crawled into his little shelter as soon as he’d finished setting it up. He stared at the ceiling, willing himself to sleep and listening to the quiet murmur of voices outside.
“I heard the prince-”
Soren rolled over, facing his back towards the fire and the assembled voices. But it didn’t stop them from drifting into the tent.
“Do you think the prince-”
He clapped his hands to his ears. What was so great about Callum, anyway? He hadn’t done anything special, hadn’t earned any of this attention. His Mom just married the King, and that was enough. He wasn’t even a real prince, Soren thought, bitterly. He was a step-prince.
Eventually the voices outside quieted, along with Soren’s mind, and his eyes drifted closed. Callum isn’t going to ruin camp. He thought to himself, distantly. It’ll be just like last year. I’ll just need to do something bigger, work harder. It’ll be just like last year.
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Something was scratching at the entrance of Callum’s tent. It had been for the last few minutes, snuffling around the edge. He could hear it through the walls.
It’s probably a Banther, Callum thought, tucking his knees to his chest. It’s a Banther and it’s going to eat me.
He didn’t know why King Harrow had made him come here. Was he really that much of a nuisance that he had to send him away for weeks, out to the middle of nowhere, with no one but Soren to help him? And where was Soren, anyway? Harrow had said that the older boy would be keeping an eye on him, and that had made Callum feel a bit better about the entire thing. But as soon as they’d arrived he’d vanished.
The creature snuffled again, it’s shadow moving on the other side of the thin fabric of the tent. Callum was vividly aware of how fragile it was. Of how fragile he was. Will King Harrow care if I get eaten by a Banther?
Don’t be silly, he amended. Of course he would care if I got eaten by a Banther. However, that won’t stop me from getting eaten by one.
The snuffling thing pushed at the edge of the tent flap, and Callum scooted further away, gripping his satchel tightly and holding it out before him like a shield.
“S- Stay back.” he managed. “I’m a very dangerous mage, and i- if you come in here, I’ll zap you!”
Unfortunately the snuffling thing didn’t appear to speak Katolian. It stuck it’s head through the flap, and at the site of it’s intruding snout, Callum panicked; throwing his satchel at it with as much force as he could muster. But all he managed to do was blow the entrance to the tent open wider, revealing the form of his raccoon tormenter outside.
“Ah!” Callum let out an involuntary scream, clapping his hands to his mouth and muffling the sound as much as he could. The last thing he wanted was to return home with all the other boys talking about how he was scared of a rodent. A rather large rodent, but still.
The thing had scampered back when he threw his bag, but now crept forward again, pushing it with it’s nose. Callum reached tentatively towards the satchel’s strap, but the raccoon’s beady eyes flashed as it looked up at him, and he snatched his hand back.
“Shoo.” he whispered, kicking a foot in it’s direction. Not close enough to do anything, though. He pulled his leg back the moment it moved.
It sniffed at his satchel again, and he realized belatedly that one of the attendants back at the castle had packed a few jelly tarts in it. For the road, she’d said. Callum waited for the raccoon to dig them out, figuring it would take them and leave. But instead it grabbed the satchel’s strap in it’s teeth and began dragging the entire thing away towards the woods.
“Wait, no! Give that back!” he scrambled out of his tent and ran after it a few steps into the dark. But he was tentative, and it knew where it was going. All he saw was it’s busy tail vanishing into the pitch black of the treeline, carrying his satchel - and sketchbook, he realized with horror - with it.
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“Soren.”
Soren rolled over, blearily flapping a hand in the direction of the voice, trying to ward it off. “I’m sleeping.” he murmured.
“But you just talked, so clearly you’re not asleep.” the voice pointed out, making it painfully clear who it belonged to.
Soren stifled a yawn, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “Well I was before you woke me up.”
He opened his eyes, taking a moment to let them adjust to the dark. Callum was couched in the open entrance to his tent. The younger boy looked on the verge of tears. Instantly Soren sat up straighter, grabbing the wooden practice sword form where it always lay beside his bedroll.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
“Th- There was a raccoon and-”
Soren groaned, dropping the weapon. “A raccoon? You woke me up cause of a raccoon?”
Callum sniffed. “It took my sketchbook.”
“So get a new sketchbook.” Soren offered.
“It- It was a present from King Harrow. And it’s got…” Callum trailed off for a moment, then swallowed. His voice was quieter when he continued. “It’s got all the stuff I drew of my Mom.”
Soren glanced away, feeling a pang of something in his own chest . He took a deep breath, then sighed.
“Alright, let’s go get your stupid book.”
The other boy’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Soren grabbed his sword from where he’d dropped it, bringing it with him as he crawled out of the tent. “I did promise both our Dads I would keep an eye on you. Your stuff was probably included in that, too.”
“Thanks, Soren.”
“Yeah, sure.” He stood up, surveying the darkened camp. “Do you know which way it went?”
Callum pointed off into the trees, and Soren rolled his shoulders.
“Alright, stay right behind me. Got it? There are Banthers in these woods.”
Callum swallowed. “Uh huh.”
“Let’s go.” Soren laid the sword across one of his shoulders, marching into the darkness.
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Check. Check. Che-
Corvus stopped outside the next tent on his list. The flap wasn’t secured properly. He shook his head. Who was this supposed to be again? Oh yeah, the High Mage’s son. Probably doesn’t spend much time out in the elements. I’ll just show him how to do it.
He crouched down, lifting the flap up and peering inside. But his instructions died on his lips. It was empty. Corvus stood quickly, glancing around. This was bad. Really bad. He couldn’t lose the High Mage’s son, not his first year of being an assistant councilor.
“Hello? High Mage’s son?” he called in a low whisper over the camp.
He probably just had to use the bathroom, Corvus though, logically. I’ll just wait for him here.
But when the other boy hadn’t returned to his tent after ten minutes, he began to worry. Corvus glanced around nervously. He hadn’t heard any sort of commotion, but that didn’t make it much better. For all he knew the boy had just wandered off and gotten lost. And either way it had happened on his watch.
Corvus checked the rest of the tents quickly, keeping an eye out for anyone who could be the High Mage’s son. But that ended up being only the first of his problems when he found the prince’s tent was also empty.
Now that is too much to be a coincidence, he thought. They must have gone off together.
Scanning the ground for footprints, he caught sight of a small set leading from the prince’s tent and across the clearing. Following them, he discovered that his hunch had been right; they led directly to the other empty one.
So if I find the prince, I find them both. He thought, carefully picking out the smaller tread from the mess of footprints that filled the camp. They led him to the edge of the forest and into it, disappearing into the dark. With a sigh, Corvus followed them into the night.
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“Hey, uh, Soren? How do you know where we’re going?” Callum asked, picking his way carefully along behind the older boy.
Soren pointed at the ground. “Your bag left drag marks.”
“Oh. Cool. Coooolll.” Callum said. “And, uh, Soren?”
“Yeah?”
“How are we going to get back?”
“We’ll follow our footprints.”
“Yeah, but like, what if it’s too dark to see them?”
“We’ve got the moon.” Soren said, pointing at the sky, eyes still trained on the ground.
“Okay. Cool. Coooll-”
“What?” Soren turned to face the prince. He was right, it was dark. He could hardly see Callum in the shadows.
“Just, uh, we’re pretty far from camp.”
“Do you want your stuff back or not?” Soren asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
“Well then, come on. I’m not going to get us lost.”
“Okay.” Callum had taken the moment of pause to catch up, and fell into step beside Soren as they continued on. After a moment, he cleared his throat.
“It’s really cool how you can do all this stuff.”
Soren glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, well, I am pretty cool.”
“I wish I could do this sort of thing.” Callum sighed. “But I always mess it up.”
“You’re probably good at other stuff.”
“Nobody cares about other stuff.” Callum huffed. “Princes don’t need to be good at drawing, or at… at… I don’t even know! They need to be good at riding horses, and slaying dragons, and making decisions! And I’m not good at any of that stuff.”
“Do you really need to be? You’re only the step-prince.”
Callum sighed. “Yeah. I guess so.”
He looked so downcast that Soren felt a little bad. He clapped the other boy on the shoulder. “Er, maybe you can use your drawings and like… make maps or something. That sounds pretty prince-y.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Callum didn’t seem convinced, eyes still fixed on his shoes.
Soren cleared his throat, fiddling awkwardly with the worn leather handle of his training sword. “You know, there are a lot of things I’m not good at either. Like… smarts stuff. So I just got good at hitting things instead.”
He hefted the blade, swinging it before him. “Don’t need to talk to something if it’s already defeated!”
Soren shot Callum a hopeful glance, but the other boy didn’t laugh.
He scratched the back of his head, returning the sword to his shoulder. “What I’m saying is, maybe you just haven’t found the thing you’re good at yet.”
“Even if I do, it’s not gonna matter. It won’t change anything.” Callum huffed. “You’re right. I’m the step-prince. Being good at stuff isn’t gonna change that.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” Callum asked, shooting him a glare before quickly glancing away.
“I- uhm.” Soren tried to find the right words, but it was all so muddled it was hard to explain. He scanned the trees, as though they would offer him a way out of it.
And they did.
“Hey, look!” he pointed at a nearby pine, drawing Callum’s attention up and into it’s branches. “That’s your bag, right?”
“Yeah! Yeah, it is!” the prince ran over to the tree, reaching for the lowest branch. His fingers barely grazed it and he pushed himself up onto his toes, trying to reach it.
“Come… on!” he groaned. “I can’t do it.”
“Step back.” Soren leaned his sword against a nearby trunk and walked over, cracking his knuckles (or trying to). “Let me handle this.”
Callum scrambled back, staring at him as Soren leapt up as high as he could, catching the bottom most branch. His arms strained as he tried to heave himself up, but he managed to get up and over, straddling the branch while he tried to pick out which one to aim for next.
“Soren, it’s really high.” Callum cautioned from below.
“Chill out. I’ve done this before.”
Soren braced himself against the rough bark of the tree’s trunk, feeling it scratch at his hands as he pulled himself upright to stand on the branch. Callum was just a vague shape in the shadows below, pacing back and forth nervously.
Soren carefully took his hand back from the tree, balancing as best he could, and grabbed the branch above him. Some of the bark came away on his hands as he heaved himself up and over again, steadily making his way closer to where the satchel hung a few limbs above. He repeated the process, slowly gaining height, until he was on level with the satchel. It’s strap was stuck on the branch above him, wedged between too smaller offshoots.
“Look, I’ve nearly got it!” Soren called to Callum, looking down. Which was probably a mistake, as he realized just how high he was. Soren swallowed, feeling his balance shift, and wrapped his arms around the trunk of the tree.
“Soren! How are you going to get down?”
“Um. You let me worry about that!” Soren said with a lot of false bravado.
“Did you get my bag yet?”
“Working on it!” Soren slowly released his grip on the tree’s trunk, beginning to make his way carefully along the length of the branch, hands reaching out for the bag. The wood creaked below his feet and he swallowed hard.
“Soren! What was that?”
“Nothing!” he called down to Callum. “It was nothing!”
“Soren, is the branch breaking?”
“No! Definitely not! That is definitely not what’s happening!”
It creaked again, even louder this time, and Soren felt his foot slip as it branch groaned and heaved beneath his weight. He grabbed quickly onto the branch above until it steadied again.
Just then a second, newer voice joined Callum’s.
“Prince Callum! I’m so glad I found you. Are you alone?”
Soren didn’t know the new voice, and he couldn’t make out much of what was happening below through the darkness. The moon seemed to have abandoned them at some point during his climb, leaving everything in even deeper shadow.
“Stupid moon.” Soren muttered to himself. “I hate the moon.”
“Uhm, hello.” Callum was saying to the newcomer. Soren tried to listen even as he continued making his way closer to the end of the branch, his footfalls becoming slower and less sure the further out he went from the center of the tree. “And no, I’m just waiting for Soren.”
“Soren?”
“He’s in the tree.”
“Oh. And why would he ever do that?”
“You see, it’s a funny story actually-”
Soren’s foot slipped, and he let out a small gasp of fear as he barely managed to steady himself on a nearby branch. Callum’s voice cut off at the noise, and suddenly the only sound was that of the wind rusting the pine’s needles and the bough under Soren’s feet groaning.
“I’m sure it’s very funny, but perhaps you can tell me later.” The newcomer said after a moment. Then he called up into the tree; “Why don’t you come down now! Before you get hurt!”
“I’ve got it all under control!” Soren called back. Which was kind of true. He was almost far enough out to be able to reach the bag. And he’d probably be able to figure out next steps from there.
“I sort of doubt that you do!” the voice came again. “So please, just come down here and-”
Soren took another step, and the branch gave it’s loudest complaint yet. He felt it shift under his feet, dipping downward. More, and then more, and then-
SNAP!
Soren lunged forward as the branch broke, hands barely managing to grip onto the edge of Callum’s satchel before everything plunged downward.
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Corvus was fairly sure that the kid in the tree was either the bravest - or more likely stupidest - person he had ever met. And he was going to get them all into a lot of trouble.
“-just come down here and-”
He was interrupted by a horrible snapping sound, and one of the tree’s higher branches - which he presumed the boy must have been on - broke away from the tree and plummeted towards the ground. Corvus grabbed the prince by the shoulders and pulled him out of the way, just barely managing to save them both from being squashed.
No movement came from within the needled branches of the broken tree limb, and no scream of fear or pain had sounded as it plunged to the earth. Corvus crept forward, fearing the worst, but there was no boy to be found among the fronds and broken twigs. He glanced up at the tree, just barely making out the form of someone still above them, swaying gently back and forth.
Oh thank the Saints, Corvus thought. He caught himself.
“Hey, Callum! I got your bag!” the idiot - Soren - called from above. Corvus faintly saw him wave a hand through the darkness. “I just, uh, don’t know how to get it down to you!”
“Can’t you climb?” the prince asked, stepping up beside Corvus and staring into the foliage alongside him.
“Uhm, that would sort of require me to be able to reach the tree. Which I… can’t really do right now.”
“What do you-” Callum’s eyes widened, and Corvus realized at the same moment he did what had occurred. “You’re hanging from my satchel?”
“On the plus side, it seems to be very nice quality.” Soren informed them.
Definitely the stupidest, Corvus thought, shaking his head. Though that is it’s own kind of bravery.
“Actually, uh, Callum.” Soren’s voice came again. “How much weight would you say this thing usually carries?”
“I don’t know.” the prince tapped his chin. “Maybe like, three books worth?”
“Well, uh, I think I weigh more than three books then.”
“What’s happening?” Corvus asked anxiously, stepping forward. Not that he would be able to do anything if he fell. Could he catch him? Would that work?
“You might want to step back.” Soren said by way of explanation.
Callum stumbled quickly away, but Corvus scanned the ground furiously, trying to find anything that could break the other boy’s fall. Nothing. There was-
“Timber!” Soren called, his voice betraying fear.
Out of options, Corvus held out his arms and closed his eyes.
It didn’t do very much good. Soren landed on him, sending them both sprawling into the dirt. Corvus spat out a few pine needles, wincing at a twinge of pain in his left wrist.
“Ow.” the other boy groaned, rolling off of Corvus and onto the ground. From there he held the satchel up, not moving from the dirt. “I got your thing, princeling.”
Callum rushed forward, grabbing it and helping to pull first Soren to his feet, then Corvus.
“I can’t believe you got it!” he gushed.
Soren shook a few stray pine needles from his hair. There were a few tears in his clothes from where it’d gotten snagged on branches on the way down and Corvus was sure he’d have more than a few bruises later on, but he seemed otherwise unharmed. “Yeah, well, it’s not in uhh… exactly the same condition as before but-”
Callum was already opening it, dumping the bag’s contents on the ground. He grabbed a book from among the other scattered items, rifling through the pages. He let out a relieved sigh. “It’s fine. My sketchbook is fine.”
“You did all of this… for a book?” Corvus asked, glancing between them.
Soren shrugged. “What can I say, he really likes his book.”
Corvus shook his head, confused and a little bemused. “Well your adventure ends now. I’m taking both of you back to camp.”
Callum quickly packed the rest of his things back into the now rather battered satchel and the pair of them allowed Corvus to lead them back the way they had come.
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Soren practically flopped onto the ground as soon as they got back to camp. The older boy - Corvus - had gone off to get a medical kit (Soren didn’t know why, he was mostly fine) and left him and Callum alone by what remained of the fire.
The young prince was already sketching again, doodling something in his newly rescued spellbook. Soren heaved himself up off the ground and went over to sit beside him, glancing at the page. He was surprised to find his own likeness staring back at him.
“You’re drawing… me?”
Callum’s tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, and he nodded. Soren watched, transfixed, as the younger boy drew not just him but the tree, raccoon, and satchel as well. The entire escapade came to life under his pencil. Even Corvus and Callum himself made an appearance.
“You’re really good at that.” Soren told him as he was finishing up.
“Like it matters.” he let the book fall closed, tucking it and his pencil back into his bag.
“I’m, uh, sorry about what I said before.”
Callum just grabbed a nearby stick, poking sullenly at the last few embers that remained in the firepit before them. “Why? You were right.”
“No. I was just… I don’t know.” Soren gazed up through the trees and out at the stars. They were really pretty, out here in the woods. “I guess I was jealous.”
“Soren, you just tracked a raccoon through the woods, climbed a tree, and retrieved my satchel. And I just… watched. What do you have to be jealous of?”
“I always have to do stuff like that!” Soren explained. “Just to get noticed. And then you get to like… walk into camp and instantly everybody wants to fawn over you and gives you all the attention you could ever have wanted and-”
“But I don’t want it.” Callum interjected.
Soren blinked at him, surprised. “Why not?”
The prince squirmed a little. “It feels weird. Like they’re not paying attention to me, they’re paying attention to what I’m supposed to be. They only care cause I’m the prince, and like you said, I’m not even really that.”
“I guess that doesn’t sound especially… fun.”
“Yeah.” Callum agreed. “Not especially.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think your drawings are really cool. And I’m not just saying that cause you’re the prince.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Callum’s mouth. “Thanks.”
He seemed to be deciding something for a moment, and then pulled his sketchbook out again, leafing through until he found the illustration he’d done of Soren and the tree. He carefully ripped it out of the book and held it out to Soren.
“Here, I want you to have it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“...thanks.” Soren took it gingerly, staring at it for a moment before folding it up neatly and tucking it into his pocket. “I can’t wait to tell my Dad.”
“That you fell out of a tree?”
“Well, maybe not that part.”
Callum laughed, and Soren grinned at him.
“What’s so funny?” Corvus asked, returning with the med kit tucked under one arm.
“Just Dad stuff.” Soren explained.
“Hm. Alright. Well, let me see your leg.”
“It’s fine, Corvus.” Soren groaned.
“It will be fine when I say it’s fine. Now show me your leg.”
Soren sighed, pulling up his pant leg. He grimaced, most of his ankle was already a deep violet. Alright, maybe it wasn’t that fine.
Corvus shook his head and sighed. “You’re probably going to need a splint.”
“A splint! But it’s… it’s fine! If my leg is all messed up, I can’t do any of the activities. Like the hikes or the sparring or the-”
“You’re going to need a splint.” Corvus repeated. “And no, you probably shouldn’t do any of those.”
“But-”
“You need to take it easy for at least a few weeks, until your ankle is better. I don’t know how you even walked on it the whole way back.”
“Soren’s tough.” Callum supplied, leaning over to look at Corvus. “That’s how.”
“Hmph. Well, he wouldn’t need to be tough if he didn’t go falling out of trees. Why don’t you go to bed, Prince Callum. It’s nearly morning and you aren’t on bed rest.”
Callum sighed, but plodded off towards his tent. He glanced back at them once before disappearing inside, and Soren gave him an encouraging smile. But as soon as he was gone he let out a heavy breath, wincing.
“It’s not fine, eh?” Corvus said, not looking up from what he was doing.
“I mean, it probably would be by tomorrow- ow”
“No. It won’t.”
Soren sighed. “Fine. I’ll rest.”
“Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad? I could have helped you back to camp.”
“I uhm…”
“There’s more than one way to be tough.” Corvus told him, finishing the splint and sitting back to look at Soren. “Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness.”
“Yeah, well, where I come from it is.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Are you calling my family stupid?”
“I guess so.” Corvus returned the rest of the supplies to the med kit and clipped it shut before standing up. “I’ll check on it again tomorrow. Okay?”
“But what am I supposed to do all day? Everyone else is going to be out doing fun stuff, and I’ll just be stuck here watching the grass grow.”
“That’s the price you’re paying for your heroics.”
“Heroics?” Soren perked up, and Corvus glanced back at him.
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late.” Soren grinned at him, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Corvus’ mouth. The older boy sighed.
“I suppose I should stay back and ensure that you actually rest.”
“So… what I’m hearing is that you’re gonna keep me company?”
“That would be a side effect, yes.”
“Great! We can come up with a new camp song.”
“And why would we do that?”
“Because it’s fun.” Soren said, counting off the reasons on the fingers of his left hand. “Because we can. And because I said so.”
Corvus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Camp songs it is, then.”
“Yes!” Soren cheered, forgetting that the log he was sitting on didn’t have a back and toppling over.
“Soren!” Corvus rushed to his side, peering over to make sure that he was alright. “Are you okay?”
Soren brushed the leaves from his clothes as the older boy helped him up. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow."
#sorvusweek2024#sorvus fic#the dragon prince#know this was supposed to be for yesterday's prompt but...#I was busy#so have it today!#soren fic#corvus fic#continuethesaga#giveusthesaga#sorvus nation#sorvus forever#sorvus#soren tdp#corvus tdp#callum tdp#callum fic#soren & the broyals#sort of#young soren#young callum#young corvus#camp katolis#fanfic#my fic
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Miss may I ask for a drabble about a sick tav. I wonder hoe the bg3 companions would take care of a tav who is feverish and unwell.
Shadowheart, as a cleric, knows how to cure and keep your sickness at bay while you recover. While she is more of a battle medic, her spells still help a lot in giving you temporary relief and strength. She is clearly worried about you but isn't sure how to approach the subject, she didn't have people caring for her when she was sick and even if she did, she doesn't really remember it.
Halsin is a healer and the closest thing to a doctor between all of the companions. He has seen your symptoms before and knows the remedy for it like the back of his hand. He is also used to dealing with sick people no matter how whiny they get, he remains ever gentle and patient as he coax you into drinking the sour potion, promising something better tasting for lunch.
He tries his best to reassure the others that while your symptoms are severe, your sickness isn't and it will go away in a week or two of rest, alas it's not very effective and they still freak out as if you're on your deathbed.
Gale knows what he's supposed to do, he has read about it, but isn't the best at action. Maybe he even ends up reading one or two pages that mention a deadly sickness that overlaps with your symptoms and he lowkey freaks out what if this isn't just a fever? He does pull some strings to see if he can get one of his wizard friends to lend you their personal doctor for the day.
Don't get him wrong, he trusts Halsin...it's just that he would rather an actual certified doctor sees you. You're not a plant or an animal, a druid can't do much for you no matter how talented they are, he claims.
Wyll and Lae'zel aren't the best bedside nurses really. Wyll is used to taking care of himself and pushing through sickness whilst he was a travelling hero. Meanwhile Lae'zel is used to the drastic githyanki medicine that while takes a toll on the body, is very effective but only on githyanki.
Although Lae'zel would be the only one to not underestimate you, she has seen people in much worse states before completely win battles on their own. If you say you can do something, she won't argue and will trust your decision. Unless youre decision turns out to he idiotic and you fall on your ass then she will carry back to camp while scolding you for being overconfident.
Wyll has better bedside matters, he and Karlach definitely know how to take your mind off of the sickness. Hanging out with them is still as fun as ever. He's definitely kept the most leveled head during this whole ordeal of chaos and knows you're strong and will get through it.
Astarion also falls into the camp of not knowing what to do. Vampires don't exactly get sick. Well, he knows that he can't drink your blood because it smells awful when you're sick and you're already in a weak state, and he doesn't want to kill you.
If you have a cold and you need heat then he will definitely make sure to keep you warm though, steal the blankets of everyone else and pile them on you, saying you clearly need them more so your companions should stop being whiny children. He doesn't need to sleep so he checks up on the campfire all night and makes sure the heat warms up your tent.
If you're feverish he will begrudgingly let you use him as a body cooler. He can't contract your sickness so it's fine and his hands can get as cold as ice during the night. So he'll keep it on your forehead and attempt to soothe away your pain.
Minthara is surprisingly knowledgeable in medicine to a certain degree, nobles, especially drow nobles, have to go through certain training in medicine to recognise poison attempts and how to quickly recover.
And that's the first thing she checks for when you show signs of sickness, were you poisoned? And no one is off the suspect list, even Scratch gets a long stare from her as she determines his fate before he licks her face making her admit he is innocent.
She takes your state the most serious of all, treating your refusal to take your medicine as a personal offence against her. She isn't above death threats even if they are less effective considering the fact that she is doing her best to keep you alive right now.
For once, Minthara and Gale agree on something as they both are sceptical of Halsin's healer title and would rather get an actual doctor in here. Halsin isn't offended but Jaheira definitely is and starts an argument with them about how druids are just as experienced as doctors and who are you even to assume nature doesn't have the cure to everything?
Karlach brought cards and board games to spend time together with you. She is by far the most pleasant company of all of them. Hell she is even down for tolerating reading a book or two with you if it would cheer you up, would lend you her teddy bear if she notices you were getting lonely.
#♡several characters#♡Shart#♡Minthara#♡Jaheira#♡Halsin#♡Astarion#♡Fluff#♡Gale#♡laezel#♡karlach#♡Wyll
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That AU where Aphmau Blows up
Shout out to @thornsofrustandash for the idea. This just came to me like a prophetic vision.
Okay so I usually change Aphmau's name because I hate calling her that, but I have warmed up to just shortening it because Aph is a really cute nickname and it's more accessible to people who can't be bothered to keep track of the 5th Aphmau rename they've read this weak.
This post is me pushing my garrancemau propaganda so if you aren't down with that, idk what to tell you you just don't have taste /j
If you're reading this, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know this isn't what we wanted, I know I'm supposed to be better than this. I was once a lord, I should know the responsibility that comes with it, and I shouldn't be so selfish.
But I need to think for myself. Have I not earned the right to selfishness after all those years of sacrificing myself for others? That's why I have to do this. I'm sorry.
Aaron, I need you to look after Lilith. I know she's going to miss me, but you're a great father and you have plenty of people who will help you with whatever you need so long as you ask for it. That's what I've always tried to tell you, and I'll keep telling you from the great beyond if I have to.
To my guards and friends, I'll miss you dearly. I wish we could share one last celebration with one another, but after this, there will be plenty of reason for celebration. Please don't let the tragedy of my death outweigh the triumph of my accomplishments. Remember me fondly, keep love in your hearts, and go forward knowing that you are some of the best companions a woman could ask for.
And to my head guards... [There's a noticeable teardrop staining the page and causing some of the ink to bleed] I'm sorry. For everything.
Goodbye.
Aph
A tear slipped down her face again, one that Aph was quickly wiping away as she folded up the letter and left it on her bedside table. She glanced over at her bed, where Lilith was swaddled up in a blanket and snuggling her favorite doll, one Laurance had carved for her. Aph's heart dropped at the image, the final thing that would make her doubt what she was about to do.
She had to remind herself that it wasn't a guarantee it would kill her. Only a possibility. She could hear Zoey rightly correct her that it was a high possibility, but she had to do this. Aph walked over to her daughter, placed a final kiss on her forehead, and then left her home. The Phoenix Alliance was quiet. It usually was, but somehow it felt even emptier under the light of the full moon. As if they're city was as abandoned as the one they had found on the island.
Her eyes kept catching on the sings of life. A guitar leaned up against a stand, the sound of cows snoring in their pens, and the many clothes strung along the drying racks reminded her that they lived here. They were making a home here. Aph had a home. The relic fragment pulled at her, reminder her that she had to protect her home. She had to. She couldn't stand seeing that sad look in Vylad's eyes anymore.
She nearly sprinted past Lucinda's house after traveling through the portal. She couldn't let anyone find her. They might be able to talk her out of this. Luckily she knew the path like the back of her hand. The forests of Phoenix Drop had changed quite a lot over 15 years, and yet they were exactly as Aph had remembered them.
The fragment in her pocket started to pull at her further and further, as if responding to the magic around the closed portal. Aph pulled the piece out, turning over the small purple orb in her hands.
"Take me to him," She commanded, and a burst of light instantly went off, magic springing from the fragment and latching onto the frame of the portal. It flashed red, and the portal was open. She could almost see him. Aph reached her hand through, and when she did, she could instantly feel the heavy blue fabric she knew so well. "Garroth!"
Aph pulled, yanking him out of the dimension and to the floor, where he was instantly followed by Zane who now stood before her. The relic fragment in her hand continued to spark with magic even as she tried to close the portal. Both Garroth and Zane needed a moment to readjust to being in the overworld. It was Zane who took less time, who realized where he was, and who he was in front of.
Bright white angel wings filled Garroth's vision as he looked up at the lord he loved so dearly.
"A-Aph?" Garroth muttered out. "What are you doing?"
"Saving your life," She answered, a smile evident in her voice. Though it faintly echoed with an unfamiliar sound, overlapping with the voice of another. "I'm sorry I couldn't do it before!"
"Wait!" Her hand shot forward, reaching straight for Zane's chest as she held onto the fragment even tighter, trying to hone and focus all the stray magic that was jumping from it.
"W-What are you doing?!" Zane gasped out as he saw her eyes start to glow white. "YOU'LL KILL US BOTH!!" Finally, she had clarity. Zane had put it so well. In order to succeed, she had to kill them both. A relic for a relic, a life for a life.
"That's the plan." Aph turned around and looked down at Garroth, her eyes becoming amber for this final moment. "I love you." A blinding white light filled her eyes, and an explosion rang out across the land.
"What happened?!" Dante nearly screamed as he raced to the explosion site. He prayed that Alexis would find no refugees were harmed, but all thoughts were swept from his mind when he got a clear view of the crater where the forest once was. Black and purple essence was scattered across the destroyed land, some parts were still actively on fire, and near the edge of the crater was Garroth. "Garroth?!"
Dante didn't get a reply. Garroth was still in shock, his hands trembling, and his eyes trying to cry. He was trying, but all he could seem to do was shake.
"Garroth, what happened?" Dante's voice sounded far, like he was talking to someone else. Garroth fell to his knees as he saw what laid at his feet where she once stood. A leather bound notebook with a rather crude "Aph" carved into the front of it. It was worn, clearly loved, and when Garroth traced his fingers over the poor thing like it would break, he could almost feel her life force coming from the pages.
It should have been louder. Garroth should have been filled with anger, something violent, something heard. Instead, the moment he held her diary in his hands, Garroth broke out into the sort of weeping he hadn't allowed since he was a child. Since the last time he lost someone this important to him. Garroth's crying was quiet. His tears were plentiful, but the sound was reserved, only a few sobs escaping between gasps for breath.
"Dante!" Travis called out, only seeing the backs of the two men. "Dante, what's going--" He stopped short when Dante turned around and he saw the tears streaming down his face. It made both men freeze at the sudden display of emotion. "What... What happened?" Dante glanced back at the weeping Garroth, and opted to step away and bring the conversation somewhere he couldn't hear.
"I-I don't really have any details yet. Garroth's not exactly comprehensible right now," Dante explained with a shaky voice. Travis faintly wanted to hold his shaking hands, just to console him a little. "Seems like nobody else was harmed in the explosion... Except..."
"Except...?" Travis repeated.
"A-Aph. I'm pretty sure she was the uh... The cause." Travis could hear his heart beating in his head as the entire world came out of focus. He couldn't really process what Dante said at first, and when he did, he felt numb. Like he should have some big reaction to the information, but instead it just left him feeling cold. "I-I'm going to keep looking around, see if I can't find a sign that she's alive."
"Yeah, y-you should do that. I'm... Enki help me, I don't know what I'm going to do."
"You could help me." Travis didn't have the heart to tell Dante his effort would be fruitless. It's not like Dante would listen anyways.
"I think I'm going to go tell the others." Dante nodded, before walking back towards the site. Travis' body moved without his own will, his legs suddenly having a mind of their own. His head felt heavy and yet also weightless, and he felt dizzy. Things only came into clarity for a moment when he saw Katelyn limping down the path through Phoenix Drop towards him.
That was when Travis got a hold of himself again, and he was suddenly racing towards her, catching Katelyn's weak form in his arms like it was instinct.
"Katelyn? What are you doing out of bed?!" Travis almost yelled.
"Like I was gonna sit still after hearing that," Katelyn groaned as she leaned against his weight. Travis' arm wrapped around her waist to hold her up like it was nothing. "What happened?"
"Still figuring that out."
"Where's Aph? I-Is she safe?" Travis's heart dropped, and he could feel the beginning of tears.
"I-I don't know."
"You don't know what?! Where she is or if she's safe?! You're her guard you should--" Katelyn stopped her yelling when she saw the tear finally slip down Travis' cheek. "No, no, no. Don't--"
"I-I'm sorry, Katelyn."
"No! She can't be!!" Katelyn was suddenly fighting against Travis, trying to break free from the grip he had on her waist. Instead, it just turned into Travis pulling her in even closer, wrapping both his arms around her tightly as Katelyn began to wail. The sound of her agony was enough to finally push those stubborn tears from Travis' eyes as e clung onto her.
They barely noticed the figure rush past them. His vision was somehow hazier than usual with the added tears in his eyes. It was when he stumbled into the crater and saw the man standing before him that the whirlwind of emotions quieted down, and Laurance was able to hear his own thoughts, feel his body again.
Mere moments before he felt an unholy amount of pain, a miserable feeling of mourning consumed every part of his body, and when he saw what remained he realized why. He saw Garroth's absolutely pitiful expression as he clutched onto her diary like a lifeline. Laurance's mind was quiet at first. Just him. Just the realization of all he had lost in a single moment. And all he was now able to lose.
Finally there was a sound to rival the explosion, a single noise to encapsulate the grief. A miserable scream that cracked and broke as it continued to tear through the land as Laurance came to terms with everything he had lost, and everything he was about to lose. The poor man could only fall to his knees and scream as it all came crashing down on him. A cacophony of voices filled his ears, only making it worse as tears forced their way through glassy eyes.
The voices of the calling were the same, yet because they called for something new, none of them sounded right. Nothing was right. Laurance's body felt like it was being ripped apart all over again and it didn't even matter this time because she was gone. He had failed her and possibly doomed everyone because of it. Every time Laurance tried to focus on the anguish of her loss, it was always weighed down by the agony of his own curse. The curse he bore for her sake was now meaningless.
Eventually Laurance's voice went hoarse. It was only then that he finally looked up and saw Garroth. The man he had spent so long fighting to get back, the man who he was ready to rip apart the realm barrier for, the man who was so loved he had more than one person willing to do that. Adoration and love swelled in Laurance for a moment, and emotion got the better of him. Laurance threw himself into Garroth's arms, and Garroth caught him and held him like it was the easiest thing in the world. He held Laurance's sobbing form and continued to weep himself.
Neither knew how to feel about the few tears of joy they initially shed while holding each other. They didn't last very long, and were rather quickly overshadowed by mourning. Garroth managed to stand up and walk the two of them away from the crater, before he collapsed against a tree and allowed his body to finally relax.
Neither Laurance or Garroth spoke for quite some time. It was just the two of them and her diary. At some point Garroth must have decided he'd had enough of wearing the heavy armor, but he never set Laurance down. Even as they walked through the streets of an empty Phoenix Drop that Garroth wanted nothing more than to explore. He'd need time to adjust to their new world, he knew that, but he always dreamed he'd do it hand in hand with the people he cared most about. He never imagined it would be him and Laurance stumbling into Aph's empty home at the top of the hill, and then collapsing before they could get to their own bed.
Now Garroth lay on the floor, Laurance still on top of him, and both of them seemingly run out of tears. That wouldn't last long.
"We should at least get to bed," Garroth suggested quietly. He was met with the sound of Laurance's sniffles.
"I can't," Laurance answered.
"Why not?" Laurance sat up, finally getting off of Garroth and letting him sit up. Laurance tried in vain to wipe his eyes, knowing it likely wouldn't do anything.
"I-I can't. I can't be around you for much longer."
"Why? What's wrong?" Laurance's body began to tremble. His blood ran hot. If his voice weren't already so hoarse, Laurance might have screamed. No no no this couldn't be real-- "Laurance, please talk to me."
"I can't!" Laurance backed away from Garroth, but refusing to move too much. He wasn't sure if he moved if he would have control of his body. He couldn't take the risk. "Calling!" That's all Garroth needed to hear.
The calling. He'd helped Laurance with it before, and Aph had told him how it was harming Laurance. Neither knew too many specifics unless Laurance disclosed them, but Garroth did know exactly what he was saying. There was no doubt that Dante's effort to find her was meaningless. She was dead and Laurance knew the second it happened. And now the calling had simply switched targets.
"I..." Garroth's voice trailed off. What was he supposed to say?
Aph would know what to say.
The thought made Garroth feel like crying all over again, but he didn't dare look away from Laurance. Especially not when he saw his eyes flash red.
"I'm sorry," Laurance whispered. "I love you." And like that, he was gone. In almost an instant Laurance had stood up and taken off, faster than Garroth was capable of keeping up with.
"Laurance!!" He desperately cried out, scrambling to stand up in his heavy armor, and barely making it to their door before he realized it was hopeless. As the sun started to peek over the horizon, Garroth looked out upon an almost empty Phoenix Drop, and he couldn't contain his anguish anymore. Garroth fell to his knees in the doorway of his beloveds home, and wept for his lost lovers once more.
hi i actually have a lot more ideas about this but this post is really long and writing this au is literally hurting me so I'm gonna make another post with more stuff later okay bye
#we've hit this point#i cried while writing this#text post#minecraft diaries#laurance zvahl#garroth ro'meave#minecraft diaries laurance#writing#aphblr#minecraft diaries garroth#minecraft diaries au#minecraft diaries aphmau#aphverse#yeah this post fucking hurt me#like I got legit upset while writing it I can't wait for you losers to read it#and then come to the tags and know your pain is shared#angst#whump#i really hope I'm using that right#I keep crying#it keeps getting worse#so much angst#mcd travis#mcd katelyn#mcd dante#very messy tags#alternate universe
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Field Work
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Word count: ~5.4k
Summary: Wanda borrows Boone for his sniffer.
A/N: Here's another one! This one combines my favorite things. Dogs and.....Boone is in this one. Also there's conflict and Wanda gets lectured.
Warnings: angst, injury, and conflict
Boone pants as he sits and watches his mom talk to Steve and Bucky nearby. He hadn’t gone to work with you today because Wanda had something that she could use his help with. There’d been a tense conversation this morning before you left, but eventually you just kissed him on the head and scratched his ears with a smile. You’d told him to be a good boy, and now he was waiting to see what happens next.
He’s been brought to the compound first to run through what he was going to be asked to do. Although he was mostly a companion to you and Wanda, he did occasionally train for other things as well. It really depended on if you let him and so far he’s mostly done bite training, tracking and scent training. You preferred to have him with you or just at home, but you knew that sometimes he got bored. He was a high drive dog who enjoyed being around you, but he also enjoyed being put to work.
Regardless of whether it's for work or companionship, Boone loves to be around his people and he’s glad to see that Bucky’s walking over to him to get started. He’s a little on the fence about attempting this, but Wanda wanted it and you’d agreed so they were going to try to make it work. He smiles at Boone as he scratches his head when the dog stands up.
“Are you ready, bud?"
Boone barks excitedly as he follows Bucky downstairs to the rooms that they normally used to train dogs.
When Wanda woke up this morning, she’d been greeted by the bad news that an op that was planned for today had hit a snag. She’d barely been awake enough to get all of the details, but the important one was that their dogs that had been prepared to find the drugs hidden away somewhere at the edge of Strucker’s territory are no longer an option. He was too paranoid to just leave it anywhere in it’s pure form so they were going on a scavenger hunt of sorts. Strucker had numerous locations where he’d keep a ton of random, somewhat valuable items stashed away, and Wanda and her friends had concluded that their haul was most likely in one of these buildings.
The trouble was figuring out which ones, and that is where the dogs came in. They would go into each of these buildings and try to locate the drugs they were looking for, cocaine in this case, and save them hours looking for it. Unfortunately, the dogs set to help with this were sick from getting into the trash last night. She didn’t remember the specifics but she made sure that whoever was responsible gets reprimanded for fucking this up. She knows it may not work on such short notice, hell they have two hours until they were set to leave, but she figures that she might as well try and see if Boone can do it.
You’d taught him how to find different things by smell early on. You’d learned very quickly that he needed to stay preoccupied in order to not be destructive, and he loved it so you continued even as he grew older. You’d mostly had him fetch commonplace things for you, but last year Wanda had proposed introducing him to different things that she worked with such as money, guns and drugs. You’d been a little reluctant and had wanted to be there for Boone’s training whenever possible. You trusted Wanda when she said that it would be done safely and that Boone was into it. You didn’t want him to be forced into something that he didn’t want to do, and that was the deal that you had with your wife.
If she wanted to borrow him to help at work, you had to be aware of what was happening. You also had the right to tag along to the not dangerous parts, but you were working today and since it was so last minute you were nervous. You weren’t sure if Boone was ready, but Wanda was asking for a favor so you allowed it. She’s reassured you that your dog wouldn’t be in danger and you chose to believe her.
Now however, as you sat at work waiting for your next appointment, you considered how most things that Wanda did were dangerous. Even if they weren’t supposed to be, she found a way to be at risk which is one of the main reasons why you were pushing for her retirement. Unfortunately, she wasn’t as enthused by the idea of being retired by 35 as you were hoping she’d be.
“Good boy, Boone!”
Bucky smiles at the shepherd who brings him back the bait for a 5th time in a row. He gives Boone another treat that he munches on happily as he considers his next move. They’d been at this for over an hour and Boone was doing a perfect job of finding the bait despite the various changes and distractions he’d added. He checked the time and realized that they had to leave in about 20 minutes. He looked over to Boone who was still sniffing one of the rats that wandered around this room for training purposes. They were all taken care of and would be collected when they left, but this one wanted to finish some of the treat that Boone had dropped.
“Let’s go find your mom, bud.”
Wanda’s waiting anxiously for Boone and Bucky to finish up when she receives a call saying that everyone is ready ahead of schedule. She’s only a little nervous about taking your baby out to enemy territory, but she’ll make sure someone was with him the whole time and there will be plenty of back up.
“Hey, Wanda.”
Wanda turns around at the sound of her name and she smiles when she sees Boone’s get up. He’s dressed up for the occasion and he looks so cute that Wanda can’t help but take a picture of him. She’ll send it to you once he’s back here safe and sound. She puts her phone away before she walks towards him and reaches out to pet him.
“Look at you Boone. You look so cute in your helmet.”
Boone’s been outfitted with a helmet that has a camera on it so they can see what he sees as he wanders through the buildings with a handler. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest and a collar with a tracker on it just in case. Wanda’s not going to take any chances with him, and she still needs to figure out if Bucky’s okay with accompanying him.
“Is he ready? “
Wanda’s almost disappointed when Bucky nods because she’s just stressed about her decision to get Boone’s help. She’s sure he can do it. He’s very smart and he will have someone with him the whole time, but they’d only scoped out this area a couple of times. Bucky can clearly tell that Wanda is stressing and he does his best to reassure her that everything will be fine. With any luck, they’ll go in, Boone will sniff it out and then they will get what they came for and leave.
It would be easy, right?
“I’ll go with him, Wanda. It will be nice and quick hopefully.”
You’re typing angrily on your computer when you hear your phone go off from where it sits on your desk beside you. You grab it so quickly you nearly send it to the floor in your hurry, and you mutter a curse as you look to see who it is.
We’re on our way now, I’ll let you know when he’s back safe.
Wanda.
You look at the time before trying to calculate how long until you’ll hear from her again. She’d told you this morning that this shouldn’t take too long, but you had no idea what that really meant. You tried to focus on your work and not worry about your dog, but that was near impossible. You’re still holding your phone ten minutes later when another message comes in. This time it’s a picture.
You see Boone standing next to Bucky with his vest, helmet and a tiny camera on his head. He’s panting and looks relaxed and almost happy and you are glad to see this. You want him to be safe and you’re glad he’s with Bucky. You take a deep breath and send your wife a quick message before returning to work. You smile as you sneak another look at your cute dog before starting back up on your record, this time you type with a little less force.
“Ready Boone?”
When they arrive about a block away from the first building Steve parks the car and looks to the duo in the backseat. Boone whines excitedly and is on his feet and ready to go before Bucky even opens the door.
“We’ll rely on coms once you’re in there, and Wanda will be monitoring the stream as you go.”
Steve mentions that the guards around the building have been subdued and Bucky takes that as his cue. He looks to Boone who’s raring to go. He makes sure that his helmet is on securely before leading him out of the car and on toward the first building of three.
“Come on, Boone.”
The shepherd is already sniffing as he arrives at the doors and Bucky pushes it open before letting Boone lead the way.
“Okay, Boone. Find it.”
Bucky follows Boone as he walks up and down the rows of supplies stacked almost as tall as Bucky. Some are visible while others are in metal crates, but Bucky’s mostly concerned about keeping track of their surroundings. While Boone focuses on looking for their stash, he’s making sure that there’s nothing suspicious or dangerous that could harm either of them. Other than the possible guns, explosives and other weapons that might be in here.
Bucky looks up briefly at the rafters of this dark and drafty building and he sighs in defeat. Why did mobsters have to be so cliché?
“Find anything yet?”
This is Steve and Bucky’s shaking his head and about to say no. but Boone stops at one of the boxes near the end of the aisle. They’re more than half way through everything and so far, Boone’s just been walking up and down. He stops to sniff this particular box again and Wanda’s speaking up as she watches through Boone’s camera.
“Maybe that one? Can you open it at all?”
Bucky tells Boone to sit as he takes a closer look at the box in front of him. It’s metal, probably heavy, and definitely locked. Bucky says this and then he marks it with a piece of bright orange tape to help whoever is going to come back and get it.
“Okay Boone, let’s keep going.”
Boone goes through the rest of the containers without finding anything, so Bucky moves to the next building. By the time they finish in the last building and Boone’s only tagged one more container, Wanda’s beginning to worry. Had her informant been given bad information? They’d been told that there were at least 6 different containers that had drugs in it, but Boone had only found two. The possibilities were that either they’d been wrong, or Boone just hadn’t been able to find them all. She’s not sure which option she’d prefer at this point.
“Let’s just get these two and go back to the compound. We’ll figure it out from there.”
Everyone nods and they can hear the obvious disappointment in her voice. Bucky glances down at Boone who’s still sniffing around furiously and he wonders what happened tonight. Maybe Boone just hadn’t been given enough time to prepare.
“Okay, we’re on our way back Steve.”
Steve was ordering a group to go retrieve the containers when Bucky says this. After Steve responds, Bucky sighs and starts to lead Boone back to the car. He follows obediently up until they get back to the parking lot. Once they’re close enough to Steve, Boone starts to pull away and try to go in a different direction. Bucky frowns and tries to pull Boone back, but he whines before he starts to pull harder and Bucky curses under his breath.
“Boone, stop it. Come on.”
The shepherd starts to whine louder and it catches Wanda’s attention from where she’s standing in the doorway. She’d been about to leave but Boone’s odd behavior had caught her attention. She frowns when she sees Boone keep looking back to something that she couldn’t see very well. She decides to try and figure out what it is because Boone apparently is really interested in it.
“Bucky, where is he wanting you to go?”
The brunette in question has no idea and short of letting Boone drag him away he’s not sure if they’ll be able to find out. He says something to this affect and Wanda considers her options. She knows that beyond the three buildings they just looked at, they have no idea of what might be in the surrounding area. There might be more drugs, or there might be a trap waiting for them. When Boone whines again and Wanda sees him look back behind the buildings again, she decides to let him go explore.
“Take him back there, Bucky.”
Bucky’s only a little hesitant to do so because he’s not sure what they’ll find, but he pulls his gun and follows after Boone who’s just short of running. He runs toward the back of the buildings where there’s a small junkyard that smells like sewage. They’d only glanced back here because there didn’t believe anything was salvageable, and all Bucky saw were a couple of old cars and some empty shipping containers that looked like they were one strong storm away from disintegrating.
“Boone.”
Bucky watches as Boone continues to walk towards the actual pile of garbage before deciding to call for backup. He stops Boone in his tracks despite the fact that the dog wants to keep going. He’s sniffing furiously and Bucky secretly hopes it’s not just for some animal that’s hiding nearby.
“I think he wants to look in there.”
Wanda frowns as she tries to figure out what Boone might be on to before she shakes her head. She sends in two more people to join the duo just to be sure before she gives Bucky the go ahead. She ignores Bucky greeting his backup and focuses on Boone who skips over the cars and go straight for the containers. Bucky’s going between watching him and looking around the surrounding area to make sure it’s still clear. The duo behind him is looking with flashlights into the tall grass that the buildings are backed up against. It’s dark and cold out and they don’t expect to see anyone but the guards out here. Especially not out in the middle of a damn freeze.
The shot goes off when Boone’s only a couple of feet away from a container. The loud crack cuts through the silence and makes everyone jump in surprise and Boone yelps in pain. Wanda hears rustling and Bucky curses as Boone falls over, and she watches as the camera spins and lands on the barely visible container.
“Shit! Boone.”
Bucky makes sure that he’s covered by the two who are shooting into the dark before he kneels down next to Boone. He quickly finds where Boone was hit, and he sighs in relief when he sees no blood and only a deformed vest. The shouting and guns in the background fade away, and Bucky realizes that Wanda’s talking to him.
“Bucky, is he okay? Is he alive?”
Wanda’s panicking because she can’t tell if Boone is moving, and if she’s gotten your dog killed today, she’ll be a single woman by sunrise. She waits as patiently as possible as Bucky assesses the damage, and she nearly starts crying when she hears him sigh.
“Yes, he’s okay. It hit the vest.”
Boone still doesn’t move much and he whines when Bucky pets him. He listens to Steve talk to the others and realizes that the shooter is down, so he decides to take Boone back to the car and have someone come out here and collect whatever they were about to find. Wanda is predictably on the same page and she is already trying to figure out how to tell you what happened. You’d undoubtedly be mad and she would be very lucky if she still got to sleep next to you tonight, but she’d worry about that later.
“I’m bringing him back Steve. Someone else can come grab this.”
Steve agrees and within a few minutes, Boone is lying in the backseat of the car with Bucky. He tries to take off the shepherd’s vest but it’s difficult with the car moving and given that he keeps whining, he decides to wait until they’re back to the compound. Wanda is waiting for them when they arrive, and she fidgets nervously as she waits for Bucky to get out.
“How is he doing?”
Bucky tells her that he’s about the same. He’s still wearing all of his gear because he’d been too uncomfortable to take it off, and he probably couldn’t walk on his own. Wanda realizes that this must be true because the door’s been left open and Boone hasn’t jumped out yet. She waits until Steve gets out too and she waits until he picks Boone up.
“Hi Boone. Are you okay?”
Wanda smiles as the shepherd wags his tail while in Steve’s arms, but as the blonde sets him on the ground, he starts to whine again. He’s offloading weight onto his right side and refusing to walk when Steve starts toward Wanda.
"Have you called, Y/n, yet?”
You’re on your way home when Wanda finally calls you. It’s only about an hour after Boone returned to the compound, but she’d been buying her time because she knew you’d be pissed. He’s improved a little bit, but he still didn’t want to move much, and he wouldn’t let her get a good look. The most he’d let her do was take off his gear and take him upstairs where he promptly laid down. He’d only just recently fallen asleep, up until now he’d been whining, and now as Wanda talked to you on the phone, she realized that you’re going to be so worried when he doesn’t get up to greet you.
“Hey, Wands. How did it go?”
You tap the steering wheel nervously as you wait for you wife to tell you that your dog was fine. You’d only been worried about this all day long, and the fact that she hadn’t told you that he was back home safe made you realize that he was either hurt or the search was still ongoing. Wanda sighs as she skips to the only part she knows you’ll care about.
“Boone was shot in his vest, but he’s fine.”
You push a little harder on the accelerator unintentionally as you hear that your baby’s hurt. You are only about ten minutes from home, but you’re going to cut it down as much as possible. You try not to sound angry as you ask Wanda to explain what happened.
“He’s okay?”
Wanda nods as she tells you that he’d done a good job and found everything they’d needed. The last place they’d checked though hadn’t been as clear as they’d thought and upon investigating, someone had shot Boone. They were dead now and her employees had recovered the rest of the drugs, but she didn’t say this because she knew you wouldn’t care. You’re wondering how long ago this happened, and the thought of Wanda not telling you this immediately makes you furious.
“When did this happen?”
Wanda realizes she’s fucked when she hears how mad you are. She’s not sure how she screwed up so badly.
“About an hour and a half ago.”
You pull into a parking spot before you get out of your car and start to head for the elevators. You have a feeling you’ll be coming right back here once you figure out arrangements for your dog. You sigh heavily as you stab the ‘up’ button for the elevator and glare at the lights as you wait for it to open.
“Why the hell are you just telling me now then?”
You stomp into the elevator and when Wanda hears the sound of it beeping as it climbs the floors, she realizes she’s almost out of time. She looks over to Boone who’s still sleeping calmly before telling you the truth. She tells you how he seemed fine, just a little sore, and that she was going to watch him until you got home. She figured you’d be home early because of your nerves, and as soon as she says this she realizes her mistake.
“Clearly, I had a reason to worry. You should have told me. There’s no way to know how hurt he is just by looking at him.”
You want to say more. You want to ask Wanda why she thought this was a good idea. You want to ask her what Boone had been shot with and where and how he’s been acting since. Instead, you wait until the elevator reaches your floor, and you storm out and just hang up the phone as you reach the door.
Wanda hasn’t come up with a response other than an apology before you open the door and hurry inside. Wanda stiffens and she looks to you, but you’re already zeroed in on your dog. He’s sleeping in his bed in the living room and you walk over to him immediately to check on him.
“How has he been doing?”
Wanda doesn’t hesitate to tell you the truth. She’s sure you’ll see it soon enough and you’re already mad at her. She doesn’t want to make it worse.
“He’s sore. He doesn’t want to walk because his left side hurts. He just whined a little before falling asleep.”
You frown at this as you carefully reach out to pet your dog’s head with a sigh. You wait until he wakes up and his eyes look weak as he opens them for you. The sight of you makes him jump slightly and he near howls as he tries to get to his feet to greet you. Wanda jumps and cringes at the sound while you just try to calm Boone down.
“Hey, shhh, it’s okay, Boone. It’s okay.”
You urged your dog to sit back down and you take a few seconds to calm down. You hate seeing any animal in pain, but when it’s your pet you become frantic. You need to remind yourself of everything you know to be logical before you try and formulate a plan for your fur baby. He was shot, and although it didn’t go through his vest, Boone is obviously still hurt. You know very little about bulletproof vests, but that doesn’t matter as much as getting Boone looked at now. You are already running through your contacts for a radiologist when your wife speaks up.
“Is there something I can help with?”
You bite back your initial urge to tell her that you don’t want her help. You’re still pissed that you weren’t told about this as soon as it happened. The only rule you really had for Wanda when she wanted to use Boone for her work was to keep him as safe as possible. This included making sure he was taken care of if he got hurt. Her decision to not tell you and wait until you got home to deal with it wasn’t acceptable, and you weren’t going to let this happen again.
“It’s fine. I’m going to take him to get a CT. Can you have Bucky meet me downstairs?”
When Wanda asked him to escort you to the hospital, he’d figured that she would tag along. He had been surprised to see just you and Boone waiting downstairs for him, but he didn’t comment on it. He’d answered some questions about what happened earlier today before it had been silent for most of the ride there. He realized pretty quickly that you were upset, and it didn’t take any thought for him to know why.
He hadn’t agreed with Wanda’s decision to delay telling you about Boone. He knew you’d be pissed either way, but waiting just made it worse. That said, he didn’t want to get in the middle of anything. It wasn’t his business, but he could feel the anger and worry practically radiate off you as you watched your sedated dog go through the CT.
“You can read these?”
You actually laugh slightly at his question as you look between your dog and the monitor. No, you can’t read CTs. You can identify organs and some other important structures, but you have looked at maybe 12 in your life, and that’s not nearly enough to even start a baseline for what’s normal. You say this and Bucky just nods before he looks back to Boone who is pulled back through the machine one more time.
“No, but this is why I keep in touch with classmates. I know a radiologist or two.”
Wanda is drinking by the time you and Bucky reach the hospital. She’s upset at herself for how today went. She doesn’t even care that she found what she needed. She’s too stressed about what happened to Boone to even consider checking in on anything else. She’d started to text you three times before she chickened out and texted Bucky. He hadn’t responded yet and she wonders if he’s mad at her too.
She sighs as she looks to her cat as she jumps up on the counter. She wonders how she’d feel if Fletcher was shot. Well for one she’d most certainly die because she didn’t think cats wear bulletproof vests. She also knows that there is no circumstance where she’d allow Fletcher to be in danger like that. This makes her realize how much you’d sacrificed to let Boone go with her today. She’d underestimated what you were giving up when you’d agreed earlier, and you were most certainly regretting it now. After all, Wanda had failed to keep Boone safe, and then she’d failed to tell you about it until later.
Wanda scowls at this thought. She’d be livid if this happened to her precious cat, so she couldn’t really blame you for being mad. She groans at her stupidity before she drinks the rest of her scotch before Fletcher can stick her face in it. She reaches out for the tabby and scratches her chin before figuring out how she’s going to make this up to you.
“He looks good, Y/n. I mean he has a large spleen, but we both knew he would.”
You laugh at this and you can’t fight the tears of relief that sting your eyes at the news. You’d called your friend from vet school and asked her to look at your dog’s images. She’d been more than happy to when you sent her multiple pictures of him. She had a shepherd too. Three actually, and you talked about them as you waited for an official diagnosis.
Boone was bruised, which wasn’t a shock at all, on the left side of his chest. It was extensive, but luckily the vest had done it’s job and it was all superficial. You’d been surprised to hear your friend tell you that the vest was probably the best there was given how much damage it absorbed.
“That’s great news. Thank you so much.”
You feel your relief immediately improve your mood and you’re smiling widely by the time you hang up the phone. You’d already looked Boone over before bringing him in here, and although you’re not happy with the large bruise hidden beneath his fur, it could have been a lot worse. You check the time and realize you’d been gone for almost two hours without checking in with Wanda. You’re not sure you want to reach out to her now because despite Boone being okay, that wasn’t your only issue with how today played out.
Wanda knew the rules and she’d ignored them because she’d been worried about your reaction. Luckily, this time it wasn’t detrimental, but something like this couldn’t happen again and you were going to make sure she knew this.
Boone is on some pretty heavy-duty pain drugs when he walks into your rooms at the compound. He’s a little unsteady on his feet as he walks over to his bed. Wanda watches him with a sympathetic smile as he plops down on his bed and almost immediately start snoring. He’s had a long day and he deserves to rest after doing so well.
Wanda waits with bated breath as you walk through the door with an exhausted sigh. You would like to go to sleep right now and you intend to soon, but first you need to talk to your wife. You’re not even hungry despite not eating dinner, so you ignore the good smells from the kitchen as you close the door behind you. You look to Wanda who you can tell is on edge, but hopefully what you have to say will fix this.
“Let’s talk, okay?”
Wanda nods and follows you to the couch to hopefully not get yelled at. She sits down beside you and waits until you’re settled and turning to her before speaking.
“I’m really sorry about today, Y/n.”
You know this and you nod as you try not to be too harsh with what you say next. Wanda’s feeling guilty which you don’t exactly like, but you appreciate what it signified. She knows that she fucked up and hopefully this will be less likely to happen in the future.
“I know you are, and don’t worry too much, he’s fine. He’ll just be sore for a little bit.”
Wanda is relieved to hear this, but this feeling doesn’t last long as you continue. You frown slightly as you glance over your shoulder at your dog for a second. Just to remind yourself that he’s okay.
“That said, I don’t want him to do anything for your work anymore. I only asked you for one thing today, Wands, and you couldn’t do it. So I don’t want to trust you with Boone again until I actually feel I can trust you with him. Okay?”
Wanda frowns at this despite knowing it was coming, but she nods regardless before agreeing to your terms. Not like she has a choice. Boone is your dog first and if you don’t want him involved with something, he’s not going to be.
“Okay. I understand.”
You sit in silence for a while as you both consider the events of today with matching frowns. Wanda’s trying to figure out if she’s sleeping here tonight while you’re trying to figure out if you’ll wake up in the middle of the night if you go to bed now. You figure Boone is good for the night. He’s exhausted and too doped up on medication to go outside again. He’ll be fine until morning. You’re still not hungry so you sigh as you stand up and stretch before looking to the bedroom with a yawn.
“I’m not really hungry. I think I’m going to shower and go to bed.”
Wanda just nods as she looks to the clock. It’s still early, but she could sleep now too after all of the stress from tonight.
“Okay.”
You nod and go pet your dog one more time before heading to the bedroom. Wanda just watches you go and you’re almost in the bedroom when you turn around and offer her a small smile.
“I’ll meet you there?”
Wanda smiles before she nods and decides she’ll join you in a bit. She just wants to sit with Boone for a while.
“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”
Masterlist
#silver spring au drabble#silver springs au#silver springs drabble#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x you
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It's an interesting thing that Rakha has now spent quite a bit of time in several different religious structures - the ruined temple of Selune, the overgrown, gith-hijacked monastery of Lathander, and now the shattered Sharran fortress.
And all of them have been places that are falling apart, broken, corrupted of their original purpose.
Rakha hears her companions speak a lot of religion. Gale is willing to blow himself up for Mystra. Shadowheart centers her life around Shar even while the goddess strikes at her regularly. Vlaakith was Lae'zel's only purpose until it all fell apart. Even Wyll sometimes speaks of the Triad. Religion is clearly very important to a lot of people.
But Rakha doesn't understand it. If she ever followed a god, she has no memory of it. And she can't recall any place of worship that was not cracking at the seams.
As such, she's not overly impressed with anything they find at Grymforge. The architecture is imposing, certainly - and she can see an interesting new tenor to the way the Weave works here, perhaps touched by some particular element of divine magic she isn't familiar with. But the dwarves have taken it over fully; there's nothing here other than rubble and corruption. If they're lucky, it is a route to Moonrise, nothing more.
She does keep her eyes and ears open as they walk through it, though, hoping to pick up any useful information about the Absolutists that might help them in the fight to come. Because there will be a fight. She will destroy this cult at the roots.
Initial data gathering and other shenanigans:
The duergar group is called "Clan Flameshade" and has been capturing local drow spies and making examples of them.
The duergar keep spiders for combat. They're either not well-trained or bred for violence even towards each other, because she watches three of them tear apart a larger one together.
Many of the other dwarves echo the welcoming committee in their disrespect for the True Souls, the Absolutists, and Nere. They're still arseholes, though, as Rakha quickly discovers - particularly in their attitude towards their slaves. (She and her companions briefly discuss trying to ally with the duergar against the Absolutists, but Rakha pretty stubbornly doesn't want to; she dislikes everyone in this place.)
The exception here seems to be the sergeant, a woman named Thrinn, who is (at least based on the comments she overhears) fucking Nere or would like to.
Entertained by this Dark Urge line option when talking to one of the gnome slaves, after he mouthed off at her because he thinks she's another True Soul:
She doesn't really care what the gnome thinks of her but I did have her say this - more for Wyll to hear her say it than anything else.
There's a cask of ale which the slave is using to fill the mugs of the nearby duergar. After some consideration, Rakha - still avoiding combat for the moment at Wyll's request - did dump a container of wyvern poison into it when no one was looking.
She then hung around to watch the next round get served.
The fortress itself has plenty of hidden passageways and alcoves. Rakha and co. are able to find a hidden room full of smokepowder, which Rakha immediately pockets. She remembers how useful it was in dealing with True Soul Gut.
Shadowheart occasionally pipes up with commentary about the Shar worship that used to happen here. Rakha tries to gauge how she feels about seeing the place overrun by duergar, but if she has an opinion, she's not sharing it.
Rakha gets almost completely obliterated in a single turn by the jelly fight in a random sideroom - not because the jellies hit her at all, but because of this wild magic surge. XD
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Hey, folks! I have a couple things I want to talk about today.
The King's Quest Continues
First, I want to offer a huge thank-you for the response "The King's Quest" has gotten. When I wrote this story, I didn't have the broader audience in mind; my only goal was to write something @hailsatanacab would enjoy. So when I woke up to a flood of kudos and comments the next day, I was truly taken by surprise.
And then they just kept coming. "The King's Quest" still gets a couple kudos every day, and some of the comments I've received have been just... beyond flattering. They all mean so much to me and fuel my drive to write. So really, thank you from the bottom of my heart!
As a token of my appreciation, I wanted to give you all, and particularly hailsatanacab, a little somethin'-somethin'.
I have a sequel in the works. It'll be about triple the length of "The King's Quest," and it's primary purpose will be to explore why Clockwork made the decisions he did. And I want to share the first scene with you today!
For full disclosure, I'm not 100% sure this sequel will be finished or how quickly it will be written, because I'm drawing a blank on some sections, and I have other fics I want to work on, too. But I would really like to see it finished this year. I think it would be a fun companion piece, especially since Clockwork's behavior raises so many unanswered questions in "The King's Quest."
So here's the first scene! Fair warning: this is in very early draft stage, so it won't have the polish my published fics do. But I hope you still enjoy. :)
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Clockwork drapes a cape over Danny's shoulders. It is thick and soft and heavy, made by the yetis of the Far Frozen as a coronation gift. The outside is a sleek black fabric, and the inside is fluffy white fur.
Clockwork smooths out the wrinkles on Danny's shoulders, and then his hands just stay there. It reminds Danny of when he did the exact same thing all that time ago. The weight around his soul grows heavier.
"What do you think?"
Tears well in Danny's eyes. They are plastered to his reflection in the mirror, which is slowly being adorned with all the regal clothing and treasures that will mark him as King. His coronation is around the corner, and the whole of Clockwork's tower, usually so silent, is now bustling with ghostly allies working to prepare. They sing and laugh, but Danny shares none of their mirth.
Gently, Clockwork turns Danny around and sinks to eye level. He is handsome today; his hair, white like Danny's, has been pulled back into an elaborate array of braids. He gently brushes a strand of hair out of Danny's face.
"Remember: you just need to get through today." Clockwork's voice is low and soft, meant for Danny's ears only. "Get through today, and the Council of Ancients will take things from there. And then you can focus on your mortal life until you are ready."
Danny feels like he should say something, but he can't; he knows that the moment he speaks, those tears are going to fall. Except then, in a cruel rebellion, one tear falls anyway. Clockwork procures an embroidered handkerchief, and with remarkable softness, he wipes the tear away. Danny puts up with the first dab, but when the second one comes, he pushes Clockwork away.
Clockwork doesn't fight him; he stows the handkerchief away. He seems to be teetering on the verge of action, but he stays still, keeping his hands in his lap. Danny turns away, trying to wipe his eyes as casually as possible, even as he knows there is literally no point in pretending. Frustration grows inside him as he wills himself to stop crying, but the tears only fall more steadily.
Fuck the mirror. Fuck the cape. Fuck this coronation.
A yeti peeks his head inside the room and asks Clockwork a question about something or other. He answers his question and follows up with, "We'll be just a minute." The yeti nods, peering at Danny curiously, as Clockwork closes the door. At once, the tower is quiet again; Danny is thankful for the privacy.
A necklace settles around Danny's neck. He jumps, thinking Clockwork has soldiered on with his preparations and dropped his own coronation gift around Danny's neck, but then he notices that it's just a normal time medallion. He looks up at Clockwork in askance.
"Take all the time you need," he says. "I will be waiting right outside when you are ready."
Clockwork opens the door, revealing yetis frozen in the midst of carrying streamers and delivering food, and closes it behind him.
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