#anyway I was very tired from traveling yesterday
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when you reach to adjust your glasses because you can’t see well, but you realize that you can’t see well because you’re not wearing your glasses
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First day of summer vacation !!!!
#camera talks#YIPPEEE#yes I woke up at 6. I can’t sleep in unless I’m the most sleep deprived Ever sorry <33#also I wanted to say happy last day to my siblings (they have a final half day)#anyways I’m Not going to do much today it’s going to be hot and I’m tired#(but also I get so boreddddd not doing things -> the only good thing about having a full time job)#I am hanging out with zeta tomorrow and then going to a science center with a friend on Friday (!!! I’m so excited !!!!)#and then work and then school traveling trip (also very excited for this :D)#very busy summer in fact. lots of work but also concert and a show in August so idk guys I’m happy <3#doing welllll#recovering from yesterday#maybe I’ll share some bap things today. I’ve been working on some stuff and I want to talk about bap in general#and also need to cast Blair before the fall hmmm
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hii !! so for the celebration thingy ;
number: 3. character: tom riddle aesthetic (from the wheel) horror academia.
im ok w smut ! :) also have a good day
hey babes! thanks for sending a request, hope you’re having a good whatever time of the day it is for you 🤍 so, at first i wanted to reply and say that it’s me who’s supposed to choose the aesthetic, but i just really wanted to do this one with tom, because it fits so well!! so, your aesthetic is…
— horror academia
(reflects the difficulty and laborious workload of real academia, manifesting in the spooky, grim, dark, and monstrous horror ambience)
» navigation ; masterlist ; tom m.list ; how to request ; 1k celebration
18+ smut
"baby."
tom’s clenched jaw and a small sidelong glare he shoots your way shows that he still very much doesn’t appreciate the pet name. you sigh, and your hands that have been massaging his shoulders move further down his body, over the planes of his chest, making the woolen fabric of his sweater wrinkle under your touch. his body doesn’t relax in the slightest.
"can you please-"
"not tired."
tom’s voice is firm and cold, but you hear the slightest bit of exhaustion there. you know he’s lying; as much as he adores keeping up the facade of being unbreakable, you‘ve known him long enough to see the signs: the shadows under his eyes, barely there, but noticeable under the dreary lighting in his dingy apartment; the way his hand shakes around the quill ever so slightly as he scribbles down some words you don’t understand (and don’t really want to).
you sigh again, somewhat frustrated, because of course he’d never admit to being out of it. slowly, you sink down onto your knees, crawling underneath his desk. he doesn’t even seem to notice, his eyes already in another huge crumbling tome.
your hands travel up his thighs, softly kneading the tense and undoubtedly cramped muscles. that seems to bring him out of his studious daze, and he leans back, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. you give him a small shrug and tug at the elastic of his cotton pants. he runs his hand over his face, slightly shaking his head.
"not in the mood,” he mutters, but you know he’s lying again. that’s what his hardening cock is telling you, anyway. you shake your head back and still your hand over the bulge that has formed at his front. several long seconds pass before he finally, finally leans against the back of the chair.
you let out a breath of relief and pull his pants down to his knees, met with the sight of his cock springing out against his lower abdomen. kissing up his length, you look up at him through your eyelashes only to see him close his eyes and tilt his head back, his lips parted and letting out short breaths. finally, he relaxes.
your tongue starts swirling around the tip, and you hear a moan from above. it’s quiet and soft, but you know what it means: he’s really, really tired. he barely ever moans, but right now, your tongue seems to be coaxing sounds out of him. feels nice.
when your mouth envelops him completely, tom gasps. when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, he lets out a ragged breath. his thighs take up the entirety of the narrow chair seat, so his hands hang slack, twitching every time your tongues makes a particularly firm movement. another moan breaks out of him as he spills down your throat, his whole body going limp above you.
"baby-"
"no."
"okay, tom. let’s go to bed? please?"
"not tired."
playlist
❥ you should see me in a crown by billie eilish
❥ so take this night by black lab
❥ shattered by trading yesterday
❥ born to burn by the neighbourhood
#— witch’s works ☾#— 1k celebration ☾#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x y/n#tom riddle fanfiction#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle smut
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from eden, part IX (act II)
Word count: 15,401 Warnings: Self-deprecating thoughts (not really, Jimmy’s just a listener and doesn’t know it), strong language, internalized racism, past abuse/experimentation, dehumanization, self-hatred, kissing, mature implications (fade to black), voluntary decapitation Summary: The Double Lifers have successfully thwarted the invasion by Hels Tek, but not unscathed. Now that Tango’s been outed as Bravo’s doppelgänger, the remaining threads are starting to unravel, and Jimmy suddenly finds himself fighting to save Tango from his own inner demons. Can their love survive the fallout?
A/N: This chapter had to get split into two parts bc Tumblr sucks, here's a link to the first half if u missed it. Hope y'all enjoy, please reblog/comment if you do!
Also please don’t think too hard abt the technical portal/redstone junk. I’m throwin a lotta random terms and conditions out there in the hopes of creating a feasible explanation for how portal travel works, and how Hels differs from other worlds in that regard. It’s possible there are contradictions or other things that I didn’t fully think through, but these details aren’t really important. Just try to suspend ur disbelief. - Aqua
~*~
from eden, part IX (act II) - no tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony
~*~
“Right then. Uh, thank you all for coming on short notice.”
Grian’s tentative welcome is met with a chorus of rather subdued greetings from the Double Lifers. Everyone is gathered in a loose semicircle around spawn, standing in their respective soulbound pairs and groups. Jimmy would’ve preferred to have this conversation sitting down, inside somewhere, but Tango had insisted on spawn.
Only now does Jimmy realize that the open nature of the forest clearing at spawn is less enclosed than a room filled with fourteen people would feel, and he understands.
Tango hadn’t been very talkative on the way over. But every time he said something, it was with that same forced ‘Everything’s fine!’ kind of attitude. It’s really starting to frustrate Jimmy, making him want to grab Tango by the shoulders and shout, ‘No, actually, everything’s not fine, and that’s okay!’
But he doesn’t think that’d be well received at the moment.
Tango, standing beside Jimmy, is still maintaining his fake nonchalance. To an untrained observer, he’d actually look quite casual. Simply standing with his hands in his pockets, listening intently to Grian with a plain, but not unpleasant, expression. The only indication Jimmy has that he’s at all uncomfortable is the complete lack of movement.
He doesn’t fidget, doesn’t pace, doesn’t shift his weight- all things that might otherwise be taken as signs of anxiety, but are usually normal for Tango. The stillness, though subtle, is concerning. It means he’s tense and on-guard. As if expecting an attack at any second. Which, to be fair, Jimmy doesn’t blame him for.
But more concerning is the fact that Tango can so easily and convincingly pretend that everything’s fine. He must’ve had a lot of practice.
(Ten years, remember?)
(Of course he’s a good liar.)
(Surprise, surprise.)
Grian clears his throat. “So, as we all know… there was an attack yesterday by some strange fellas who came in through a hacked portal of some sort. I’ve locked the world down for the moment, but until we know all the who’s, why’s, and how’s, I’m afraid that’s only a temporary solution… since I’m sure you all don’t wanna be stuck here forever.”
He says it matter-of-factly, not a hint of any frustration, annoyance, or other ill-feeling in his voice. But Jimmy sees Tango’s face twitch anyway. Unsurprisingly, the guilt is getting to him.
“But that’s why we’re here,” Grian continues, taking a more upbeat tone. “Tango has kindly agreed to explain a little better what’s goin’ on, so hopefully, we can get to the bottom of this and uh… come up with a plan for moving forward.” He gestures invitingly towards Tango. “Tango?”
(Here we go…)
Tango clears his throat. “Right, yeah, thanks.” He takes a small step forward, casting a quick glance around the clearing. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I spawned in a world called Hels, where every player is sort of an evil counterpart to an overworld player elsewhere in the universe. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from the Helsknight fiasco.”
Jimmy can actually see the sudden realization that settles over all the present Hermits- minus Pearl, who seems as out of the loop as the others.
Grian’s eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, that makes so much sense…”
“Oh, dudes,” Ren breathes, running a clawed hand through his hair. “Not gonna lie, I completely forgot about that…”
“Same here,” Impulse says, looking stunned. “I mean, it was over and done with so fast, and Wels didn’t seem worried, so I guess none of us really thought to look into it? Man…”
Scott puts a hand up. “Um, what’s tha’ Helsknight fiasco?” he asks, frowning.
“Oh, right.” Tango scratches the back of his head. “So, you guys know of Welsknight, right? One of our fellow hermits?” At the group’s hesitant nods, he continues, “On Hermitcraft’s seventh world, there was this player who randomly joined and attacked Wels. None of us ever saw him, but when Wels explained the situation later… he said Helsknight was some kinda evil clone, and that he came from a place called Hels.”
Murmurs of surprise and confusion ripple through the group. Jimmy longs to put a hand on Tango’s shoulder as a reassurance, but based on how tense he is, that’d probably set him off.
“Wait, really?” Pearl asks, her antennae curling in surprise. “What’re the chances of that?”
“I know,” Cleo agrees, “it was really strange, in hindsight…”
“So this Helsknight guy,” Joel says, knitting his brows together. “He’s what Bravo was talkin’ about, one of those Hels players? Like all the other people that came through the portal?”
“Yeah,” Martyn chimes in, “I- I noticed a lot of uh, ‘Hels’ in the names in chat. Or like, ones with ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ kinda vibes.”
“Yep.” Tango nods stiffly. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t know Helsknight or- or how he joined Hermitcraft, but it was obvious he was Wels’s counterpart. I mean, he said he was ‘all the darkest parts’ of Wels, right?” He folds his arms. “Well, I’m that for Bravo. A sort of uh- a personification of his badness, I guess.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Bigb cuts in, holding his hands up. “So- so you’re sayin’ that we all have these… Hels versions of ourselves?”
“Evil doppelgängers, yeah,” Tango amends. “I mean, I don’t know why it’d only be for some players and not others, and Hels is plenty big enough for every player in the universe to have a counterpart. You go to any of the major cities around spawn, and it’ll definitely feel that way.”
“What’s this… Hels world like?” Pearl asks, her red eyes wide with a sort of morbid fascination.
Tango’s expression darkens. “It’s an ancient world, infinite and deadly. The overworld and nether are fused into one crazy, messed-up realm full of these weird hybrid kinda biomes, and- and you can’t access the end. The bedrock ceiling makes it so hostile mobs spawn basically everywhere, but you can’t find naturally spawning passive mobs for like, hundreds of thousands of blocks around spawn, ‘cause the early players murdered them all. And no portal travel in or out- at least, that’s what we thought.”
Jimmy’s starting to see why Bravo described Hels as ‘an inescapable prison of horrific violence and suffering.’
Grian raises his eyebrows. “No end?”
“No portals?” Bdubs echoes disbelievingly.
Etho, who’s been listening with rapt attention, tilts his head. “That Bravo guy, he mentioned something about my, uh… my doppelgänger?”
Tango shrugs. “He must’ve met them at some point in the last ten years, yeah. I- I dunno, I never did.” He pauses, creasing his brows as he glances around the circle again. “Actually, I don’t think I ever met any of your guys’s Hels. Or, if I did, I don’t remember.”
That makes Jimmy frown. “What do you mean?”
Tango gives Jimmy a sidelong look. “I uh, I wasn’t really that social for most of my time there, I spent my childhood being a general menace- most kids do, actually. There’s no infrastructure to look after kids, we- they’re basically on their own. So you can imagine it’s- it’s an interesting world to grow up in.” Idly, he kicks at a clump of grass. “Bunch’a little monsters runnin’ around unsupervised, causing chaos, trying not to get brutally killed by hostile mobs and players, it was great.”
Horror seizes Jimmy. “That’s awful.”
“That’s just how it was,” Tango says bluntly. “I mean, try setting something like that up without an admin, right? See how that goes.”
“Wait, Hels doesn’t have an admin?” Grian repeats.
“Nope. At least, not when I was there.” Tango shrugs. “They hadn’t for a long time before I even spawned, so- so the whole place was basically anarchy, every player for themself.”
Aghast, Scar shakes his head. “What in the world…”
“How long did you spend living like that?” Impulse asks softly, his eyes sad.
Tango’s avoiding everyone’s eyes now, staring off somewhere into the middle distance. “Oh, probably ‘til I was like… fifteen or sixteen? Somewhere in the teen stage? That’s when I met Atlas.” A bitter smile splits across his face. “He told me he was recruiting for his redstone company, Hels Tek, and- and of course he threw in lots of cheap flattery, blah blah blah, and in my young, naive stupidity, I fell hook, line, and sinker. Turns out all he wanted me for was a blaze farm.”
There’s a brief silence.
“What?” Jimmy asks, confused. Is that what Atlas had meant about a farm design? Did they just want to force Tango to make farms for them? He knows Tango’s a bit of an innovator in that regard, but that’s an awful lot of trouble to go through for something that could easily be done by someone else.
“He… wanted you to build a blaze farm?” Impulse asks slowly, brows knitting together.
Tango laughs; a sharp, dry exhale. “No, no. Not to build one. To be one.” He reaches a hand up to tap one of the blaze rods hovering around his head. “I uh, I dunno if you guys have noticed, but these things here aren’t just for show. They’re real, functional blaze rods, and they just so happen to be respawnable.”
Jimmy’s stomach drops.
Oh.
(There we go, now they’ve got it.)
(Makes sense, right?)
(Honestly, it’s so obvious…)
The clearing is deathly silent now. All Jimmy can hear is his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Everything is clicking into place, all the strange things he’s seen and heard suddenly making perfect, horrible sense.
They used Tango as a blaze farm. An actual sentient player, reduced to nothing more than a simple mob. A player with complex thoughts and feelings, with creative ideas and passions, with hopes and fears and dreams. They locked him up like an animal to use for profit- and even now, ten years later, he still can’t fully escape from it.
Jimmy has a sinking feeling he knows what Tango’s nightmares are about.
Tango keeps talking. “They didn’t start with that, of course.” There’s a bored sort of quality to his voice, like he’s merely commentating on the weather. “There was this uhh awkward phase where I thought I was helping with redstone experiments, when actually I was the test subject.”
It’s kind of surreal, actually. To be standing here and talking about this so casually. It’s like Jimmy’s having a nightmare he can’t wake up from.
“And once I caught on, well, they uh- they didn’t exactly have to play nice anymore,” Tango laughs. “That’s where I got these fabulous accessories.” He waves a hand, cuff jangling around his wrist.
Jimmy feels sick. They put the cuffs on Tango to lock him in a farm. To think he’s still had those on him, all this time-
“After that,” Tango continues briskly, “it still took, like, another year of testing for them to develop the most optimized farm.” He delivers the information almost disinterestedly, studying his claws. “It was a pretty smart design, nice and compact.”
Jimmy glances around the clearing. Amidst the shocked, horrified faces, he finds Impulse- who seems to be focused on taking slow, deep breaths, his hands curled into fists at his sides.
(Uh oh, no Impulse to the rescue…)
“Wither roses dealt constant damage,” Tango rattles off, “triggering my blaze rods to respawn as quickly as they could be skadoodled away by hoppers, and they had regen on an automatic clock to keep me alive- though there was a backup respawn anchor for any accidents.”
Wither roses. Of course. Jimmy can picture it, in his mind’s eye; Tango chained up among the ashen flowers. What must it have felt like, to be withering all the time? His health constantly wavering between the icy blackness and the regeneration, every minute of every day. How absolutely miserable.
Jimmy somehow finds his voice again. “How… how long did you spend like that?” he asks hoarsely, stepping next to Tango.
Tango won’t look at him- though he’s carefully watching out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, I dunno… four or five months, maybe?”
Months. Jimmy’s heart aches. He can’t even begin to imagine what that existence was like. To spend all day trapped in a farm that’s constantly hurting him- and by wither effect, no less. Not to mention how dehumanizing the entire concept is on its own.
“How’d you get out?” Jimmy asks tentatively. “If- if you don’t mind.”
Tango snorts. “Yeah, so, one day, the charge on my anchor ran out when no one was around, so I was able to kill myself to get back to world spawn. And that’s when the portal to Hermitcraft appeared.”
Etho steps forward. “I thought Hels didn’t allow portals?” he asks, his voice as cool and unreadable as his partially-concealed expression.
Jimmy’s taken aback, his feathers puffing up unwittingly. He doesn’t understand how Etho can grill Tango about technical details in such an upsetting situation. In fact, he’d almost think that Etho doesn’t care at all- except the question makes Tango pause. In his expression, Jimmy can see his mind working, and realizes what Etho has done.
By circling back to a scientific topic, he’s provided Tango a distraction. Something less personal for his mind to focus on, and take everyone else’s focus off of him. Already, Jimmy can see that Tango’s less tense as he starts to explain.
“We didn’t have portals in Hels, but we knew the concept from data-mining.” Tango spreads his hands. “Locked comm commands, hidden recipes. But portals to Hermitcraft are made by the universe, right? So- so whatever is preventing Hels players from making portals, it- the universe can circumvent it. ‘Course, at the time, I didn’t know how it appeared or where it was gonna take me, but I went through. And apparently, somehow, a portal appeared in front of Bravo that took him to Hels at the same time. The universe must’ve tried to send Bravo to Hermitcraft, glitched ‘cause of Hels’s wonky portal technology, and swapped us by mistake.”
Etho hums noncommittally. “So it was an accident.”
(Oh, sure.)
(That’s what they think…)
(Yeah, he ‘accidentally’ didn’t tell anyone the truth for ten years.)
Jimmy angrily pushes the thoughts away. So long as Tango didn’t intend to strand Bravo in Hels, that’s all that matters to him.
Tango gives Etho a funny look. “I mean, that’s not the point? Bravo’s been trapped in Hels ever since, ‘cause of me. This whole invasion thing was my fault, they were tryin’ to get me back for the farm and help Bravo escape Hels, and... I dunno, get back to his life? Or, the life I stole from him ten years ago.” He shrugs. “So yeah. Secret’s out, sorry I’ve been lying to some of you for a decade, now, and- and sorry you all got dragged into my mess. I didn’t mean t- well, anyway, that’s- that’s what happened.”
“God, Tango,” Jimmy breathes, reaching a hand out, “I- I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Tango asks incredulously, jerking away from Jimmy. “Wh- for what? That’s just what Hels is like, okay, if it wasn’t the farm it’d have been some other terrible thing, so y’know, it’s- it’s whatever.” He lets out another harsh laugh, raking his claws through his hair. “If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry, I mean, I- I’ve been lyin’ for ten years and-”
“They put you in a farm?!”
Everyone jumps. Impulse’s voice is suddenly several octaves lower, quite a bit louder, and warped with distortion into something truly demonic. His pupils have eaten up the rest of his eyes, turning them solid black. The teeth bared in a scowl look bigger and sharper than they used to, and the hands at his sides have sprouted claws. His horns and tail have grown longer, too, and Jimmy can see what looks like dark, leathery wings sprouting up behind him. His entire body is outlined by a bright golden glow, like his skin has abruptly become as hot as lava, and the absolute fury in his expression burns even fiercer.
Ah. This must be ‘full demon’ mode.
Bdubs quickly jumps in front of Impulse, grabbing him by the shoulders to ground him. Jimmy instinctively steps in front of Tango, wings snapping out to shield him from view.
But the damage is already done. Jimmy hears footsteps, and by the time he looks over his shoulder, Tango is gone.
“Tango, wait!” Jimmy turns to follow him, but a hand suddenly grabs his arm.
Martyn is there. “Don’t chase him,” he says lowly, “he’ll only panic more.”
Jimmy wants to argue, but the severity in Martyn’s solitary eye sobers him. “Alright,” he relents, folding his wings. “I… guess I’ll give him a few minutes to calm down…”
“Right, then.” Martyn gives a short nod, putting his hands on his hips. “Wasn’t expecting that.”
“Tell me about it,” Jimmy mutters, gazing back over the clearing.
Impulse is starting to settle back down, Bdubs in front speaking to him in low tones while Etho and Joel each hang onto an arm. It looks like his extra demon-y features are reverting back to his usual state, though he still looks furious.
Grian is sitting against a tree, wings splayed out around him. He’s massaging his temples like he’s warding off a headache, his eyes squeezed shut, groaning, “How did I not see this coming?” while Scar, crouched beside him, rubs his back soothingly.
Ren is pacing back and forth across the clearing. “I should’a killed more of those guys,” he growls, tail lashing, ears pinned flat against his skull.
“Hey, you did all you could,” Bigb says comfortingly. “I was the one that got us killed. If I’d kept my shield up, he wouldn’t have gotten that shot on me.”
“I wish we’d realized that Atlas guy was in charge,” Martyn laments, crossing over to them. “If we’d stopped him from leaving, we could’a gotten a lot more information.”
“I wish we’d known Tango was dealing with all this,” Cleo says bitterly, her crossed arms resting on her knees, Scott leaned against their side. “I mean, honestly… ten years and we never knew? That’s- that’s- that’s rubbish. We’re rubbish friends.”
“Hey, hey now,” Jimmy says, lifting his voice to address the group, “this wasn’t anyone’s fault, okay? You guys have been great friends to Tango- otherwise, he wouldn’t have stuck around for so long, right? It’s- it’s just his way, to try and deal with things on his own without askin’ for help. You know that.”
Cleo exhales slowly. “Yeah, I know. Still sucks.”
“Yeah.” Jimmy glances over at Impulse, who seems to have recovered himself back to normal, sitting cross-legged next to Bdubs. “You alright, Impulse?”
Impulse gives a slight nod, expression guilty. “I’m sorry. I- I almost never lose control like that, I just got so angry… not at Tango!” he quickly clarifies. “Never at him. I- I just… thinking about what they did to him, everything he went through…”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Bdubs murmurs, squeezing Impulse’s hand. “That’s- it’s freaking crazy, right? With th- hyaugh, evil Hels world, puttin’ people in uh, in farms… sheesh.”
“Yeah, it’s alright,” Jimmy assures him. “I know you didn’t mean anythin’ by it. I’m sure Tango does, too, he was just so on-guard the whole time… he just got spooked, that’s all.”
“Jimmy,” Pearl says urgently, fluttering over to him while tailed by her small pack of wolves, “d’you know- uh, is- is everythin’ Tango said true?” she asks, concerned.
Jimmy swallows. “It’s true. I mean, I- I didn’t know about the farm specifically, but based on what I overheard Atlas say- it makes sense.” He rubs the back of his neck. “And gosh, I didn’t know how awful Hels was, but the way Bravo talked about it…”
“But, um…” Bdubs pipes up hesitantly. “Just- just ‘cause Tango is Bravo’s… uh, Hels… doppelgänger, whatever… doesn’t mean he’s evil, right?”
“I know!” Jimmy cries, throwing his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell him! He doesn’t believe it. He thinks he’s a monster for what he did, killin’ those guys and burnin’ down the ranch.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Martyn scoffs. He’s coaxed a still-seething Ren to lay down now, absentmindedly stroking Ren’s ears as his head rests in Martyn’s lap while Bigb starts to braid his hair. “It was self-defense, yeah? A bunch of strangers invaded your home, and he defended it. There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”
Jimmy has a feeling it’s more to do with how Tango killed them and how the fire got started, plus the fact that Jimmy got hurt in the process. But Tango didn’t share those particular details, so Jimmy’s not about to now. Besides, in his opinion, that doesn’t change anything.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says ruefully. “But he still blames himself for what happened. For all of it.”
“Well, that’s stupid,” Cleo deadpans. Then she pauses. “Or- sorry, his feelings aren’t stupid, but I- I hope he knows that none of us feel that way.”
There are exclamations of agreement and similar sentiments from the rest of the group, which helps ease some of the tightness in Jimmy’s chest. He knows his friends, and knows they’re all good people who wouldn’t judge Tango like that, but it’s been hard not to let Bravo’s words get to him.
“I’ll tell him,” Jimmy promises them. “I’ll try to make him understand, he just- I think he’s always been afraid this day would come, that he’s just been tickin’ down borrowed time.”
“What d’you mean?” Grian asks, rising to his feet. “It’s not like he knew they were coming, right?”
Jimmy shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s more like… he’s always had that possibility hanging over him.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Impulse says quietly. “The first time he saw a communicator portal open, you would’ve thought he was being sent to his death. It… makes sense, looking back now.” He puts his head in his hands, sighing. “Man, there were so many signs…”
Grian walks over, pulling his communicator out. “So hang on, the world itself is called Hels, yeah?”
“Yeah, why?” Jimmy asks.
Grian doesn’t respond, silently scanning his comm with his brows knit in concentration. And then something very strange happens. For a moment, it almost seems as if Grian’s eyes flash purple, and Jimmy hears his voice in his head.
(There it is. Hm, firewalled. Gonna be tricky.)
Then Grian pushes his glasses back up, and it passes.
“Right,” he says briskly, putting his comm away. “I can’t find the world, so the portal thing checks out. But since Tango’s cut this meeting a bit short, do you have any other information? Anything the Hels guys might’ve said or done that we should know about?”
Jimmy blinks. Grian’s just looking at him expectantly, giving no indication that there’s anything out of sorts. Jeeze, he’s used to having random thoughts, but the stress of everything must really be getting to him if he’s imagining his friend’s voices, now.
“Um, actually,” Jimmy says, “the collar they put on Tango… he said it’s using some sort of… modified wither rose to dampen his fire? It’s uh, also dampening our soulbond.” He clears his throat, glancing away. “As a- as a fun little side effect.”
“Have you tried removing it yet?” Etho asks, stepping around Impulse with his hands in his pockets.
“I did, earlier,” Impulse chimes in from the ground. “Just with my hands, but uh, he acted like it was hurting him.”
Jimmy nods. “Yeah, Atlas locked it on him with a key, and I’m pretty sure he still had it when he left. So I think that might be the way to get it off.”
“Well,” Joel cuts in, straightening up from where he’d been leaning over Impulse’s shoulder, “surely not the only way, right? I mean, you could always…” He makes a noncommittal noise, and draws a finger across his neck.
Jimmy bristles, wings flaring out. “What, decapitate my soulmate?!”
Joel holds up his hands. “Hey, hey, we don’t know if that thing’ll respawn on him!”
“His cuffs do!” Jimmy points out.
“Yeah, but isn’t it worth a shot?” Joel counters.
“I… I guess,” Jimmy relents, letting his feathers smooth back down. “But I’d rather look into a few other options before jumpin’ straight to decapitation, if you don’t mind. Tango’s been through enough as it is.”
Joel backs off. “Alright, fair enough.”
“Okay…” Grian turns to address the rest of the group. “Well, um… this has been an interesting revelation, to say the least. I think we’re gonna have to do a bit more research to figure out how they got here before we just… open the world back up. So that means we’ll all be stuck here a bit longer, is that- is that okay with everyone?”
“Yes, yes of course,” Bdubs says vehemently.
“Yeah,” Impulse agrees, “whatever it takes.”
Further murmurs of assent ring out from among the group. Everywhere Jimmy looks, he sees faces full of sympathy and understanding, not a single trace of resentment or annoyance to be found. God, he loves his friends.
“Thanks, guys, I appreciate it,” he says gratefully. “I’m gonna go check on Tango, but we’ll keep you updated if anythin’ changes.”
“Right, okay then.” Grian claps his hands together. “Uh- I guess that’s all for now?”
Nodding, Jimmy turns and takes to the sky, leaving spawn behind him.
His mind is still reeling from all the heavy revelations, his stomach twisted up into knots, but he’s at least comforted by knowing that his friends are behind them. Seems that the fears Bravo tried to instill were completely unfounded, nothing more than vicious, desperate attempts to sow division between Tango and the others. Jimmy really shouldn’t have doubted them.
(That went… surprisingly well.)
(Give it time.)
‘Oh, shove off,’ Jimmy thinks.
~*~
He finds Tango back at the spare room in Impulse and Bdubs’s house.
Thank goodness for that. He hadn’t exactly been sure if Tango would consider this a safe place to go. But with the ranch destroyed and the world on lockdown, it’s not like he has a lot of options.
Tango’s sitting on the bed with his back to Jimmy. At a glance, he seems relaxed, but his legs are curled under him in a way that’d allow him to spring up in an instant. And the way his pointed ears swivel back toward Jimmy tells him Tango is quite alert.
(So deceiving…)
“Hey, Tango,” Jimmy says softly. “You alright?”
“Oh, hey.” Tango doesn’t turn around just yet, shrugging a shoulder. “Sure, yeah.”
Jimmy lingers by the bed for a moment, uncertain. “Um, Impulse didn’t mean to lose his temper like that,” he offers. “He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at the situation, that’s all.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just, in the moment- I- I- thought…” Tango sighs. “Anyway. So- so I guess I should head out, huh?”
Jimmy’s stomach drops. “What? What’re you sayin’?”
“It’s over, right?” Tango asks, his voice tight, shoulders hunched by his ears. “They don’t want me around, and I don’t blame ‘em. I mean, once Grian opens the world again, it’s only a matter of time before another portal from Hels opens up. And- and who’d want to go through all that again, right? So don’t worry, I get it, it was my fault, so-”
“No, Tango, I promise- none of them blame you, alright?” Jimmy sits down on the bed- not too close. “None of them believe what Bravo was sayin’ about you. None of them think you’re some… some evil monster that deserves to be locked up in Hels.”
Tango finally turns around. His body is coiled with all the tension of a drawn arrow. “That’s ‘cause they didn’t see me- what I did- back at the ranch,” he says sharply. “They don’t know the whole story.”
Jimmy rubs the back of his neck, exhaling slowly. He knew Tango would hold that against himself. “Well, I do, and I-”
“No, you don’t.”
Jimmy blinks. “Wh- oh, you mean the Helsknight thing?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “Look, honestly, based on what you told Bravo, I don’t blame you for doing that. You were just scared you’d get sent back, that doesn’t make you evil. I know you-”
“No, you don’t,” Tango says again, more intently. “You don’t know everything about me, Jimmy.”
Jimmy’s stomach drops. “Wha’d’you mean?”
Tango smiles without humor, a hard look in his eye. “You wanna know why I like making those- those crazy mob farms? Why I try to kill them in creative, fun ways?” He tilts his head. “Because I like it. I like to make their deaths entertaining. I’ll even sacrifice efficiency for it, I’ll go out of my way to do it. And I- it doesn’t stop there, I’ll kill passive mobs for no reason. Cats, frogs, things that don’t even have drops, for absolutely no reason. That’s not normal.”
Despite himself, Jimmy feels a chill run down his spine. “That’s not… those are just mobs, it’s- it’s not evil…”
(Are you sure about that?)
Tango exhales sharply- a short, bitter laugh. “Okay. You know why practically all my mini games end in death? Huh? You wanna guess?”
Distress shoots through Jimmy. “Tango-”
“I like to watch players die, too,” Tango says. “And I like it to be entertaining. I enjoy it, that’s- that’s just plain sadistic.” He rakes his claws through his hair. “That’s what I am, I’m a- a sadistic monster, okay, I always have been.”
“Stop it, don’t say that!” Jimmy protests, his heart twisting. “You’re not- people actually sign up for those games, you know. And it’s not like death is permanent, it doesn’t matter-”
“So?” Tango interrupts harshly. He jumps off the bed and starts pacing. “What- does that make any difference? Doesn’t matter if people enjoy them, okay, my- my reason for making them is wrong. Designing games is fun, sure, but I- that’s never what it’s been about. I like to make players struggle, and suffer, and die in the end. I like to watch them experience pain and fear in a trap of my own creation. I like the feeling of control it gives me. No matter how you look at it, that’s- I- I’m messed up.”
Jimmy can’t take this anymore. He rises to his feet. “Tango, stop, that’s enough,” he says, his voice stern. “I know I haven’t known you very long, but-”
“Yeah,” Tango snaps, rounding on Jimmy, “you haven’t! That’s the whole problem! I’ve kept a huge chunk of my life secret from you, my own soulmate. I’ve kept it from the Hermits, too- my friends of nearly a decade. I’ve deceived and lied to everyone I ever cared about. I’ve pretended to be this- this benevolent game maker who just wants everyone to have a good time, I’ve kept so much of who I really am hidden ‘cause I knew that if you guys ever saw the real me, you’d hate me.”
Jimmy’s mind is reeling. Tango’s clever eye for game design is something Jimmy’s always loved about him, the way he could create fun challenges even amidst the throes of a death game. After all, the first time they really interacted was when Jimmy died to his ‘Dare to Flare’ challenge back on the Third Life world. And that had been a laughably simple game compared to some of the things he’s done on Hermitcraft.
Even though it ended up costing Jimmy a life, the rush of adrenaline had been thrilling. And even though in hindsight, he knew it was a deliberate ploy by Tango to thin out his competitor’s lives, Jimmy’s never resented him for it.
So to suddenly realize there might’ve been more to it… that Tango might’ve actually enjoyed watching him burn to death- beyond the simple satisfaction of having outsmarted his competition, of course- is… unsettling, to say the least.
(What a start to a relationship!)
(The red flags have been there from day one.)
(A sadist and a liar, lucky you.)
But nevertheless, Jimmy holds his ground. “I don’t hate you.”
Tango tenses. “You should.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Jimmy insists. “I love you, Tango.”
“No, you don’t!” Tango snarls, and the hurt in his voice is raw and ragged and bleeding. His eyes are burning with rage, and Jimmy’s almost certain that if it weren’t for the collar, he’d be on fire right now. “Alright? Just shut up! You love this- this version of me that I’ve presented, okay, this lie I’ve been living. You love Tango the friendly redstoner, who makes ridiculous high-pitched noises when he’s flustered and who’s funny when he’s mad and who can’t fight his way out of a one-block hole. You don’t love the sadistic blaze hybrid that sets things on fire and- and rips people’s throats out with his fucking teeth, don’t be stupid!”
The silence that follows is deafening.
(And there it is!)
(Finally showing his true colors.)
(He did try to tell you…)
For a moment, Jimmy is too stunned to speak. Tango’s never yelled at him before, not seriously, and the sting of his words is almost a physical thing.
Tango seems just as shocked at his outburst as Jimmy is, his face paling as his anger quickly extinguishes. The next words out of Tango’s mouth are almost guaranteed to be an apology, but Jimmy isn’t letting him off that easily.
“Now hang on just a second,” Jimmy says lowly. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel about you. I’m a grown player. I’m not some poor, innocent idiot that you’ve manipulated into loving you, alright? And it hurts that you’d think so little of me, that I’d stand here and just lie about my feelings to you.”
(Ooh, someone finally grew a backbone-)
Jimmy silences the thought, violently forcing it out of his mind. He’s got no patience for that sort of thing right now.
“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers, “I didn’t-”
“And what’s more,” Jimmy continues, gaining steam, “do you really think I’m the type of person to judge someone so harshly for things outta their control? You honestly think I’m some- some shallow, heartless jerk who’d turn on you, just like that? Or- for that matter, you think the Hermits would? After ten years of friendship, you have that little faith in them?”
Tango’s eyes widen. “No, no it’s- it’s not like that,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean-”
“I don’t care that you’re from Hels,” Jimmy presses, taking a step forward. “I don’t care what you did in the past, or that you kept it from me. I don’t care if some random guy thinks you’re just the manifestation of all his evil- frankly, I think that says more about him than it does about you.” He comes to a stop in front of Tango. “I love you. The teeth, the claws, the death fascination or- or whatever you wanna call it- I love all of it. All of you. And I wish more than anythin’ they hadn’t got that damn collar on you, so you could feel that love through our soulbond. But you’ve felt it before, right? Before I knew? Well um, it hasn’t changed, I promise you that.”
Tango stares back up at him. Now that the anger’s gone, he just looks scared. “You don’t-” His voice breaks. “You can’t.”
“Yes, I do,” Jimmy answers, unwavering. As difficult as this conversation has been, this part’s easy. “I promise, cross my heart.”
Tango shudders, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Please,” he whispers, “don’t… I can’t- if I let myself think that but you don’t mean it, I- I can’t handle that. Please. Just tell me now, okay, get it over with…”
Understanding settles over Jimmy. Creasing his brows, he takes a slow, deliberate step forward. “I mean it,” he says, lifting a hand to cup Tango’s cheek.
Tango trembles, but he doesn’t move away. He swallows, licks his lips. “Say it again?” he asks, almost a plea, his eyes darting to take in every inch of Jimmy’s face- like he’s unsure whether he can truly believe what he’s seeing, almost searching for any hint, any trace of doubt in Jimmy’s expression.
There isn’t any. Jimmy leans in. “I love you.”
Something glimmers in Tango’s eyes; a warm light Jimmy hasn’t seen since before the ranch burned.
Something like hope.
Love rises inside Jimmy like a wave- love and the sorrow of shared grief, the fierce determination to withstand it, and the agony of all the past suffering he can’t take away. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating, this sudden rush of emotion. A whirling maelstrom that makes his head spin. But his love burns brightly through it all, a sole lantern against the storm.
Maybe he can’t make Tango believe he’s worthy of love. But he can give it anyway.
Jimmy moves slowly, tilting his face down towards Tango’s. He keeps his eyes open until the very last second, giving Tango plenty of time to move away or say something to stop him, to give any sign at all that he isn’t feeling the same.
There isn’t any. Their lips meet gently, like a familiar greeting. Like the way sunlight falls through the window every morning.
And just like that, the dam breaks. Suddenly Tango’s kissing him back, fervently, pushing against him. Jimmy’s legs hit the bed and buckle, sending him backwards, Tango falling on top of him. His hands cling to Jimmy’s shirt, twisting in the fabric, and his tears wet Jimmy’s face, salt on his tongue. Above the pounding of his heart in his ears, he can just make out the words Tango’s murmuring between kisses, breathless and desperate.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you.”
Jimmy pulls him impossibly closer, whispering, “I never doubted.”
They don’t need words after that.
~*~
“Jeeze, they weren’t kidding,” Tango mutters, taking in the ranch with wide eyes.
The ranch looks even worse than Jimmy had been imagining. Nearly the entire first floor is gone, just a wide-open plot and their lonely front door sitting ajar. Aside from the odd block here and there, it’s just empty. A couple trapdoors from the furniture in the living room. The smooth stone slabs that made up their kitchen countertops. An occasional unbroken glass pane floating where there used to be windows.
It’s not a home anymore, not by any stretch of the imagination.
Up the intact cobblestone staircase, the second floor has only fared slightly better. Some of the walls are still standing, charred and moth-eaten as they are. He thinks most of the bathroom’s interior was spared, as it was primarily made of different stone materials. Polished andesite and the like. The chests in their storage room made it, of course, even though the room itself didn’t. And their bedroom seems to have gotten the worst of it. From down here, he thinks it might just be the bed itself that’s left.
The roof is gone, leaving their cobblestone chimney awkwardly sticking up from the ground to nowhere. The path up to the house and the surrounding fields have been torn up to make a ditch. Necessary as it was, it’s quite the eyesore. And to top it all off, one of the custom trees that Scar helped build has been hastily chopped down, due to its proximity to the nearby forest. There’s just a couple of logs and solitary leaves left floating in the air.
It hurts. Everywhere Jimmy looks, there’s another source of heartache. Another precious memory that’s been turned to ash. It’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.
But he’s also aware of Tango standing beside him. He knows how much Tango is already beating himself up for the fire, and the last thing he wants to do is add to that guilt.
Jimmy turns to give Tango a rueful grin. “Talk about your fixer-uppers, ey?”
Tango exhales slowly. “Man, it’s so…” He glances at Jimmy, expression pinched. “I’m sorry, you worked so hard-”
“It’s fine,” Jimmy says, shrugging. “It’s just a building.”
Tango hesitates. “It’s… alright to be upset. This was our home, and I- I got all ‘rahhhrr angry-burny rage mode’ on it and-”
“Not your fault,” Jimmy says, voice gentle but firm. He puts a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s the Hels fellas for attackin’ us in the first place.”
Tango makes a noncommittal noise, scuffing the upturned dirt with his boot. “Sure.”
It’s clear he’s not convinced, but Jimmy leaves it there for now. Their conversation from yesterday is going to take some time to fully sink in. He crosses over to a haphazardly-placed double chest near the front of the ranch and crouches beside it, lifting the lid with a creak.
“Martyn said everything they were able to save is in this chest here, let’s see…” He rummages through the chest’s inventory. A lot of it is random junk; miscellaneous blocks, half-stacks of wheat, dropped weapons and armor from the fight. But there are a few good finds, like some of the clothes from their closet, a couple of flower pots, one of his framed embroidery pieces...
“Oh, hey, look at this!” Jimmy calls excitedly. “My gloves!”
He pulls the gloves out, looking up from the chest to see Tango standing over him. His eyes widen when he sees them- happily surprised at first, and then the familiar dawning of guilt and regret.
“You uh… maybe I should take those back, for now,” Tango says quietly, his ears lowered. “Or- or maybe just forever, yeah.”
“Ey, stop it, no take-backs,” Jimmy chastises him, slipping the gloves on. “Gloves couldn’t have prevented that fire, anyways. And I like wearin’ ‘em, because that way it’s sorta like I’m holdin’ your hand all the time.”
A grin tugs at Tango’s mouth. “Aw, that’s real cheesy, honey,” he teases, even as a faint blush colors his cheeks.
“Yeah, but I mean it,” Jimmy says loftily. “I’m keepin’ them.”
Tango holds his hands up, chuckling. “Alright, alright…” His gaze travels back towards the ranch, up towards the storage room with its rows of chests. “Guess we should still have plenty of materials to rebuild, huh?”
“Should do, yeah,” Jimmy says, straightening up. Having the gloves back is an immediate comfort, despite the fact he’d only gone two days without them. He foldings his arms, gaze sweeping critically over the remains of the ranch. “I guess for now, we’ll just focus on the structure? Y’know, get the place liveable again and worry ‘bout the decor and landscapin’ later…”
“Oh, that’s what you think!”
The loud voice makes them both jump. Jimmy whirls around to see Bdubs- of course, because there’s absolutely no mistaking that voice.
“Bdubs!” Jimmy laughs, clutching his heart. “What- what’re you doin’ here?”
Bdubs puts his hands on his hips. “I- I can’t believe what I’m- ‘no interior decor’, yeah right! You’re not gonna get outta that very- so easy! I tell you!”
Tango snickers. Luckily Bdubs’s sudden appearance hasn’t seemed to cause more than a brief startle. “Oh, yeah? You gonna help out, then, shorty?”
“Hey!” Bdubs barks incredulously- though it’s clear from his expression he’s not really upset. “I’m tryin’ t- augh, n’you- you stu- yes. Yes, yes, I’m here to help, of course. For goodness sakes. I- how kind, are I! Sweet, kind Bdubs…”
“And handsome, too,” Jimmy adds cheekily.
That makes Bdubs beam, puffing his chest out. “Yeahhh, c’mon baby!”
“Don’t encourage him,” Tango groans.
“Oh, stop it!” Bdubs huffs. “Anyway, Impulse would’ve come, of course, but he and Etho- the redstone guys, you know, uh, they’re havin’ a- a- little chat, little brainy-thing… brainstormin’ ‘bout the portal stuff with Grian. But never thy fear! I saw you guys head out and, in my eternal wiseness, have already called in the forcements!”
Jimmy exchanges an amused look with Tango. “Well, any help is appreciated,” he amends.
“Sure about that, Timmy?” calls Joel’s voice, as the man himself appears over the hill.
And he’s not alone. Cleo’s taller figure looms over him, Scott and Pearl walking on either side of her as a small pack of wolves weave between their legs. The trio is followed by Martyn, Bigb, and Ren- the latter seeming to have recovered his friendly disposition and wagging tail. Finally, Scar emerges from behind a tree to round out the group, calling out a cheerful, “Hello there!”
Joel comes to a stop next to Bdubs and claps him on the shoulder. “We figured you two could use the help, what with you not bein’ builders and all.” Cheeky man.
Jimmy snorts. “Gee, thanks,” he says sarcastically. But slights at their building skills aside, he’s actually quite touched.
Tango blinks. “You guys… all came to help out?” he asks, sounding amazed.
“Of course!” Bdubs declares. “We ha- we help!”
Cleo shrugs, giving a hapless grin. “You know, I- I- I really don’t know… why Bdubs invited me? I’m not that great a builder. But I can supervise, I guess? And- and heckle. Always heckle.”
“And reach tha’ tall bits,” Scott offers, lightly elbowing her hip.
“And reach the tall bits,” Cleo laughs. “Right. Yes.”
“It’s the least we can do,” Martyn chimes in, slinging an arm around Bigb’s shoulders, “since that portal stuff is way over my head.”
Bdubs pulls a face. “Uh…” He speaks to Jimmy and Tango behind his hand, despite making no effort to lower his voice at all- for comedic effect. “Normally, I would’ve offered my perfect redstone prowess to uh, to help the other guys out with their little portal thing, you know, but eugh- I knew someone would have ta’ keep all these jokers in line.”
“Ah, of course,” Tango replies sagely.
“Well?” Bdubs turns expectantly to the others, throwing his arms up. “Get movin’ then! Sheesh! Stand around, waitin’ for- for no raisin…”
“Yes, my liege,” Cleo drawls, rolling their eyes.
Ren claps his big paws together. “Yeah, we’re burnin’ daylight, my dudes!”
Pearl’s fuzzy wings unfurl from beneath her red cloak. “Let’s see what we’re workin’ with!” she says excitedly, fluttering up to the storage room.
Just like that, the other Double Lifers descend on the husk of the ranch. Placing down temporary chests and crafting benches, sorting through the remaining resources, filling in the ditch with dirt. Multiple conversations start up immediately as everyone sets to a task, and the atmosphere is comfortable- even if a bit strange.
Jimmy can’t recall a time when this many of them have worked on a project together. Not on Third Life, not on Last Life, not here. Something like this just wouldn’t be possible during a death game. Large gatherings between different groups are always fraught with tension and uncertainty, by the fear of a trap or a backstab or a fight breaking out.
But it’s nice. Pearl is hovering above the second floor, working with Cleo to build the walls back up while Scott prepares some stairs and slabs for detailing. Scar and Bdubs are already bickering about how to do the landscaping while Joel grumbles at them, waist-deep in the ditch with Bigb and Martyn placing dirt. Ren’s started tearing down the damaged trees, clearing room for replanting, and Pearl’s wolves mill about, filling the air with curious sniffs and yips.
Tango’s watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, and it suddenly occurs to Jimmy that this is the most people Tango’s been around since the difficult conversation at spawn. Impulse was checking on them throughout the rest of the day, of course, and a few of the other players stopped by now and again, but not in big groups or anything.
Jimmy steps closer to Tango. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.
Tango looks at him in surprise. A smile spreads across his face, and he takes Jimmy’s hand. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, it is.”
Jimmy smiles back. “Then let’s get in there.”
~*~
Jimmy lets out a low whistle. “Dang, this looks even better than before!” he says, craning his head to look around the room.
After a full day of building and the gradual dispersal of the other Double Lifers, Jimmy and Tango are now seeing their new bedroom for the first time. They were around for the bulk of the structure building, but once it came time for the interior, Bdubs and Scar had insisted it be a surprise. Everything about it is perfect, from the custom furniture to the quilted wool rug to the fancy frame Scar built around their double-wide bed.
Tango clears his throat. “Maybe, uh- maybe we can just…” He kicks one of the beds with the toe of his boot. “... scooch this over a little…”
“Nope,” Jimmy declares, sweeping Tango off the floor and onto the bed. “Nice try, mate, but you’re stayin’ right here next to me.”
“Okay, okay, fine! I ju- don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Tango huffs, but he’s grinning as he says it.
~*~
“Alright, fellas,” Grian says, clapping his hands together, “here’s what we’ve got so far…”
Jimmy leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Tango is a little tense beside him- probably just nerves. But it could be worse. They’re gathered in the living room of Impulse and Bdubs’s house; Grian perched on the arm of the sectional across from Jimmy and Tango, Impulse and Etho sitting adjacent to them. The familiar setting and fairly limited company seems to have helped put Tango more at ease for what might end up being a tricky conversation.
“We’re... pretty sure we know how the Hels peeps got here,” Grian continues, “but there are a few things we need to clarify, first.” He glances at Etho, inclining his head. “Etho, you wanna explain?”
“Oh yeah, yeah.” Etho stands up. “Tango, may I see your comm, please? I uh, just need to look at it for a minute.”
Tango blinks. Anxiety flashes across his face for just a brief second before disappearing. “Oh. Uh, sure?” He pulls the item from his inventory, holding it out.
Etho takes the communicator. “So,” he begins, sitting back down, “you said that in Hels, players can’t make portals with their communicators, right?”
Tango gives a short nod. “That’s right. That comm isn’t the one I spawned with, they took that from me at Hels Tek. X made me a new one, after I got to Hermitcraft.” He gives a dry laugh. “I told him- I told him I lost it. Which, I mean, that’s- it’s technically not a lie, just... not the whole truth.”
Jimmy gives him a sympathetic look. He might no longer be worried that the others will reject him, but this still can’t be easy to talk about.
Etho studies the communicator, his mismatched eyes narrowed in concentration. “So after you got a new comm, you were able to use it to make portals?”
“Yeah,” Tango says, “it uh, it’s taken me to each Hermitcraft world and everything in between, no problem. Hubs, solo worlds, creative- you name it.”
Etho hums. “Can you use your comm to travel to Hels?”
“No.” Tango glances away. “I’ve looked for it, a few times. Never shows up.”
That brings a couple more questions to mind, but Jimmy files them away for later.
“Interesting.” Etho seems to be delving deep into the communicator’s hardware, typing rapidly. “So uh, the portal issue isn’t centered on players that spawn in Hels, just their communicators. And since overworld communicators can’t find Hels, there must be something about the world itself preventing it.”
Tango knits his brows together. “I suppose…?”
It’s at this point that Grian leans forward. “Have either of you heard about firewalls?” he asks.
Tango shakes his head, but Jimmy’s heart jolts. He has heard that word before; just the other day, when he thought he heard Grian’s voice in his head. But that’s not exactly something Jimmy wants to bring up right now. Or ever, maybe. His weird, random, intrusive thoughts don’t need to be anyone else’s problem.
“Um…” Jimmy pretends to think about it for a moment. “I think I’ve heard the term somewhere before, but I- I dunno what that actually means.”
“Right.” Grian spreads his hands. “So firewalls are a sort of added security measure that admins can use when making a new world. It’s like, an impenetrable barrier ‘round the world that makes it basically impossible for anyone unauthorized to join via portal.”
“Wait, really?” Tango asks, eyes widening. “What- why haven’t I heard about this? Do all worlds have these?”
Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “Well, firewalls are kinda outdated. Developments in server security and comm travel have basically rendered them obsolete. I mean, when’s the last time you heard of a private world being raided, besides ours?” He shrugs. “Plus, it’s a real tedious process to set one up, so they aren’t used often. Mostly for multiplayer worlds that are invite-only, if an admin is particularly concerned about hackers.”
Jimmy holds out a hand. “So wait, hang on, this- what’s this got to do with our situation?”
Impulse catches his eye. “If you try to join a firewalled world without permission, it doesn’t show up on your comm.”
“Oh,” Tango says, realization dawning in his expression. “You think Hels has a firewall?”
“It’s the only thing I can think of,” Grian says, nodding. “However, it’s a bit odd, ‘cause firewalls are usually just one-way… meaning that they keep players out, but they don’t stop players from leaving. So if that’s what’s goin’ on with Hels, it’s a firewall unlike any I’ve ever heard of- where it’s meant to keep players in, too. I’m not exactly sure if that’s why comms made in Hels can’t make portals, or if that’s due to something else entirely, but uh, that’s my best guess.”
Tango runs a hand through his hair. “That’s… I mean, this is the first I’ve heard of firewalls, but that doesn’t sound impossible…”
“So,” Jimmy speaks up hesitantly, “so how did the Hels Tek guys open a portal here?”
“How, indeed?” Etho repeats, finally looking up from Tango’s communicator. “Well, we know the portal was red, not purple. That’s like a comm portal, the way their light syncs up with the world they lead to. But uh, you know, the players coming through had items and armor on them, and they didn’t show up at world spawn. Their spawns didn’t reset, either, they uh- they kept spawning back on the other side. That makes me think this was actually a hacked nether portal, not a comm portal.”
Tango frowns. “Hang on, we- we didn’t have nether portals in Hels, either. I mean, how- there was no point, the nether and the overworld were combined into one realm.”
“Right.” Etho’s got that look in his eye- the glint of an idea about to take off. Jimmy’s seen it in Tango countless times. “You know how nether portals work?”
Tango coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, of course I know all the uh, super technical skadoodle bits, but- but maybe you should go over it.” He jerks his head towards Jimmy and Grian. “You know, for these uh, non-redstone people here.”
“Please do,” Jimmy chuckles.
Etho’s eyes crinkle upwards, like he’s smiling behind his mask. “Basically, they grab the coordinates they’re made on and translate it to nether coords, and vice versa. From what you’ve told me about Hels, being a fusion of the nether and overworld realms, a nether portal couldn’t work ‘cause it’d be like… giving it coords to a place it already is? It’d just crash and never ignite. But if you gave a nether portal frame coordinates to a different place… like, say, a different world…”
Even with Jimmy’s scarce knowledge of portals, it’s easy enough to catch Etho’s meaning.
“That’s crazy,” Tango protests. “How’d they- how could they possibly have gotten coordinates to Double Life?”
“I don’t think they did. I think they got coords to you.” Etho leans forward. “Think about it. The portal didn’t open at spawn, it opened down the hill from the ranch- where you were. I think that was intentional, considering you’re the whole reason they came.”
Jimmy’s mind is spinning. “But... how? And how’d you figure all this out?”
Etho shrugs a shoulder. “Uh, educated guess? Like, just kinda based on the things Bravo said, and what Tango’s told us about Hels and the players it spawns. But um, looking at his comm just now basically confirms it for me.”
“Wait, really?” Tango asks, surprised. “How?”
Etho tilts his head. “Communicators are pretty special items. They’re unique to the player they spawn with- even a replacement communicator like this one. It might not have the hard locks on it that prevent it from summoning portals, but it’s still unique to you. And based on its data, I can tell your player data is a little different. I think it has to do with you being from Hels.”
Tango hesitates. “Okay, and…?”
“If you and Bravo are really counterparts,” Etho says, “then I’d expect your data to be similar. Like, the same word in different languages, in a metaphorical sense. So if Bravo’s data was fed into a nether portal, it’d translate it to your data, and open a portal at your coords. Plus or minus a few blocks, probably.”
Jimmy knits his brows together. “So… you’re sayin’ they used Bravo to open a portal to Tango?” he surmises.
Etho nods. “I’d need Bravo’s comm or a look at his player data to confirm, but that’s my best guess, yeah.” He holds the communicator back out to Tango.
Tango stashes the communicator in his inventory. “So wait, what about- how does the firewall thing factor in, here?” he asks. “If it stops comm portals, wouldn’t it stop a nether portal, too?”
“Yes and no,” Grian answers. “A firewall works by constantly scanning for portals. If it finds one trying to form, it’ll crash it. If a nether portal was used to travel between different worlds, rather than two realms on the same world, a firewall would recognize it all the same.”
“But,” Etho continues, “if they somehow figured out how to stabilize the portal… like, by sending a constant stream of updates… it’d constantly reset the scanner of the firewall. Sort of like an update suppressor. That way, the uh, the firewall can never actually register the portal as a problem and shut it down. So that’d be one way they could keep a hacked nether portal open, even in the face of a firewall.”
Tango exhales slowly. “Okay…” he says, “and how do we stop them from doing that ever again?”
Impulse winces. “That, we’re not sure about. I mean, if Bravo wasn’t there for them to grab a signal from, I guess that’d stop them. However they built a portal, it probably needs his data to function.”
“Oh, well, great.” Tango throws his hands up. “No way he won’t help them again, he hates my guts. Only reason they haven’t come back yet is ‘cause Grian locked the world down, I- I guarantee it. But we can’t just all stay locked in here forever, you’ve all got lives and other worlds to get back to.”
Jimmy frowns, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “Tango, anyone who’s got a problem with you has a problem with all of us.”
“For sure,” Grian agrees.
“Besides,” Impulse says, shrugging, “not to toot our own horns or anything, but I think we handled ourselves just fine against them.”
“You mean Pearl’s wolves handled them,” Tango says flatly. “And you guys had the element of surprise. I guarantee the only reason they went down so easy is ’cause they weren’t expecting much resistance. They show up again, now knowing what they’re up against, and that’s- that’s gonna turn out a whole lot differently.” He crossed his arms. “I need to leave, before Grian opens the world back up.”
“And what, just wait for them to come after you?” Jimmy demands, his wings puffing up. “Absolutely not.”
Tango makes an unhappy noise in the back of his throat. “It’s- you understand it’s only a matter of time, right?” he stresses. “Maybe it won’t be right after Grian lifts the lockdown, okay, maybe it’ll be days, or weeks, or months. Either way, it’ll happen eventually, and when it does… whether it’s- if that happens here, or back on Hermitcraft, or the next Life world... the result will be the same. People I care about will get caught in the crossfire, I- I’m not lettin’ that happen again.”
Jimmy pauses, wings drooping. The distress in Tango’s voice is sobering. There’s no question that Tango cares fiercely about his friends, and the guilt for putting them in harm’s way must be staggering. But still, he insists, “We don’t mind stayin’ put-”
“For how long, though?” Tango asks pointedly. “I can’t ask you guys to stay here forever. Like, I- I can’t stress enough how obsessive Atlas is. He came for me after ten years, okay, he’s not gonna just give up or lose interest. There will always be the risk of them opening another portal to me, so long as Bravo is in Hels.”
“So what if Bravo wasn’t in Hels?” Impulse cuts in.
Tango gives him a confused look. “What do you mean?”
Impulse’s eyes are alight with excitement as he gains steam with his idea. “What if we went to Hels and got him out? That way, he’s not mad at you for being stuck there anymore, right, and Hels Tek can’t use him to make another portal.”
“What, you mean we open a portal to Hels?” Tango asks, raising his eyebrows. “I- I thought we already established that our comms can’t take us there, what- how are we supposed to get there?”
“The same way they got here,” Etho says. “We use your data to open a hacked nether portal to Bravo. Ahah.”
As intimidating as the prospect of encountering Hels Tek again is, Jimmy has to admit it’s probably the only solution. They can’t just ignore the problem and hope it goes away, not if it means Tango could get randomly attacked at any moment. And with all of the Double Lifers together, they stand a much better chance of succeeding.
“That’s a great idea!” Jimmy exclaims. “We grab him, shake Atlas down for the key to the collar while we’re at it, and get out. Problem solved.”
Tango doesn’t seem nearly as enthused. “No way. Absolutely no way. That’s- that’s way too dangerous, if you guys get stranded there- and Atlas is already looking for more hybrids to make farms with, he was about to take Jimmy for a feather farm!”
A brief silence follows this revelation.
Grian grimaces, ruffling his wings. “Oh, woof.”
“What?” Impulse asks, taken aback. “That’s why he had Jimmy chained up, too?”
Jimmy blinks. “Oh, is that what he meant?”
“What’d you th- you didn’t know?” Tango asks incredulously.
Jimmy holds his hands up. “Hey, hey, I didn’t spend much time thinkin’ about what he said to me!” he says sheepishly. “I was more concerned about you.”
Tango pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh. Oh, great. Well yeah, that’s what he wanted you for, to stick you in a feather farm skadoodler for all eternity.”
Jimmy swallows. No wonder Tango’s been so against the idea of them going against Hels Tek again. Death is no big deal- they’d simply respawn. Few injuries cause lasting damage. But being trapped in a farm like that, with no means to escape…
“Well,” he says, “that still doesn’t change my mind. You’re his number one target, okay, you can’t go without backup.”
“No,” Tango huffs. “Let me do it. I- I know Bravo shouldn’t just be left there forever, but that’s not your guys’ faults! It’s my life, my mistake, you guys shouldn’t be putting yourselves at risk like that-”
“Tango,” Jimmy interrupts, “we’re not gonna make a portal to Hels and just send you through alone-”
“Well, I’m not letting you guys come with me!” Tango shoots back. “Most of you guys are hybrids or monsters, too, and I’m not gonna risk Atlas turning you into farms.”
Grian clicks his tongue. “Ey, we wouldn’t let that happen.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy says, “and what’s the alternative? You just take off to some solo world until Hels Tek comes a’knockin’?”
Tango shrugs. “I mean, I’d be fine with that-”
“No,” Jimmy says firmly. “I’m not lettin’ that happen. This is our only option, to put this problem to bed forever, and we stand the best chance if we do it together. We have to take it.” He grabs Tango’s hand. “Please, Tango.”
Tango hesitates, staring at their intertwined hands.
Now more than ever, Jimmy desperately wishes that he had some sense of what Tango’s thinking- even just the slightest insight to his thoughts, the faintest impression of an emotion through their soulbond. Especially since he’s had his confidence in reading Tango so thoroughly shaken over the last week. It’s scary to consider that he might not know Tango nearly half as well as he should, that Tango can so effectively mask his true feelings even from him.
“... fine,” Tango says, after a small eternity. “Fine, okay, we- let’s plan an invasion to Hels, sure.”
Jimmy gasps. “Really?”
“But,” Tango says warningly, “we gotta go about this extremely carefully, alright? No willy-nilly ‘rushing in blindly without a plan’ nonsense. And- and once we’re there, if at any point I tell you guys to flee, you- you best be fleein’, got it? With extra flee. No stupid heroics of noble stupidness.”
It’s a chance. That’s better than nothing. “Yes, alright!” Jimmy cheers. “Thank you!”
(Yay, we’re going to Hels- said no one ever.)
(Do they know what they’re getting into?)
(Oh boy, here we go.)
Etho shrugs. “Whatever you say, Tango, you’re the uh, you’re the Hels expert, here.”
Impulse folds his arms. “That’s a dirty condition you kinda tacked on the end, there,” he mutters, “but I’ll accept it.”
“Alright then.” Tango gives a tired sigh, but the corners of his mouth are curling into a smile. “I- I guess we’re doin’ this. We’ve got some room in the basement at the ranch, we can build it there.”
“Excellent.” Grian grins. “Let’s build a portal to Hels, fellas.”
~*~
Jimmy’s startled awake by a shout.
Heart pounding, he squints into the dark room. As his eyes struggle to adjust in the scarce light, he can just barely make out Tango sitting upright in bed. His rapid, shallow breaths wheeze through clenched teeth, faint sparks emitting from his dim blaze rods as they try to ignite.
“Tango,” Jimmy whispers, sitting up, “you okay?”
Tango’s breathing hitches. Then he turns to collapse against Jimmy’s chest, clinging fiercely to his shirt. His entire body is trembling. “Nightmare,” he manages to get out.
Jimmy’s heart twists. He knew it was only a matter of time, but that doesn’t make it any easier to see. Gently, he wraps his arms around Tango, then his wings for good measure. “I got ya,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”
Tango tucks his face against Jimmy’s shoulder and falls silent. Maybe he’ll want to talk about it in the morning, maybe he won’t. But for now, Jimmy just holds him, and hopes that’s enough.
~*~
Jimmy stares at the redstone circuitry laid out before him. “I understand none of this.”
Though it’s only been a few days since they started work on the portal, they’ve already made a lot of progress. Impulse and Etho have been over basically around the clock, with Bdubs and Joel tagging along more often than not. They’ll watch the redstoners work until they get bored, and inevitably wander upstairs to bug Jimmy. Grian checks in on them every now and then, and the other Double Lifers have popped by for little visits, so it’s been a lot of activity at the ranch. Lots of people coming and going.
It’s strange, but not necessarily in a bad way. Almost like an actual pleasant community feeling. Neighbors helping neighbors and all that.
A dedicated digging session has left them with a bit more space in the basement, allowing them to section off a separate room from Tango’s sugar cane farm. They finished it with a stone floor and simple wooden walls at Bdubs’s insistence (he considered it unacceptable to just leave it all as freshly-dug dirt). An obsidian portal frame (complete with corners at Etho’s insistence) stands empty against the back wall, leaving abundant floor space for the redstone- of which there is plenty.
Redstone dust wires criss-cross through rows of repeaters and hopper lines. It’s all far beyond Jimmy’s capacity to understand, of course, but even Tango seems a bit baffled. He’s claimed many times that his understanding of redstone is surface-level at best, and that his real skill comes in applying the various components and systems in creative ways. But he’s at least been able to help with the construction, the actual placing of redstone components.
“Right,” Tango laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s- lemme see if I’ve got this right…” He points at a long line of redstone dust. “Main circuit to the portal.”
Impulse nods. “Yep.”
Tango steps gingerly around the redstone, gesturing towards a rather complex looking amalgamation of observers and comparators. “This nonsense over here will turn my skadoodle bits into a fireable signal.”
Etho, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, chuckles. “Pretty much.”
“And this,” Tango waves at the hoppers, “will count out the final coords before they hop on the main bus line to the portal.”
Jimmy nods hesitantly. “Okay… okay, cool, so- so is it done, then?”
“Not quite,” Impulse says. “We need a player detector.”
Tango creases his brows together. “What, like a- like a pufferfish? A skulk sensor?”
“No, more like a- a whole separate system,” Etho explains. “It’s more than just registering your presence. We need something that can read your data, pick out your coordinates, and send them to the portal for translation to Bravo.”
Tango exhales slowly. “That… sounds pretty complicated.”
“Oh, it will be,” Impulse says, folding his arms. “I mean, just think about how much data each player contains, right, all the codes that dictate our behavior and biology… we don’t wanna overload this thing, so it’ll require some heavy-duty filtering.”
“Not only that,” Etho continues, “but uh, if that firewall thing turns out to be a problem, we’re gonna have to figure out a way to stabilize the portal, too. That’ll take some tinkering with different power sources til we find the exact right input to override the firewall’s checker.”
Jimmy winces; he’d been hoping for a quicker solution. It’s already been over a week since the invasion, and he knows Tango hates being stalled. The sooner they get this problem taken care of, the sooner they can stop worrying and get back to their normal lives. Jimmy himself doesn’t have anywhere else to be, but the other Double Lifers do. And even if they don’t mind the unexpected stay-cation, it definitely bothers Tango that their lives have been disrupted for his sake. Goodness knows he’s already got enough of a guilt complex.
But Tango simply gives a bemused smile. “Well, let’s get started, then.”
~*~
“Are we really sure we wanna do this?”
Jimmy winces at Tango’s tone. “I know, I know,” he says regretfully, “it wasn’t my favorite idea either. But if it can get that collar off’a you, we gotta try, right?”
Trying to remove the collar manually had resulted in a sharp, shooting pain through Tango’s neck at the slightest movement. Trying to remove it with redstone had proven unsuccessful- clearly, it was designed to be insulated against any outside signals. Trying to pick the lock had resulted in nothing but a lot of frustration. So that left them with their last resort.
They’ve moved outside, round the back of the ranch, to avoid getting blood stains all over their newly refurbished house. A random bed has been placed down to provide them with a quick and easy respawn, their items temporarily stowed in a chest. Impulse holds a Sharpness V sword, tail flicking as he watches them apprehensively.
“I’m only gonna do this if you’re okay with it,” he tells Tango seriously. “We can go back to the drawing board, come up with some other things to try…”
“No, no,” Tango shakes his head, “I don’t- you shouldn’t be wasting time on this, you’re already working pretty much nonstop on the portal.”
The frustration in his voice is evident. Impulse frowns. “I don’t mind…”
“Well, I do!” Tango says, crossing his arms and glancing away.
Jimmy exchanges a look with Impulse before putting a gentle hand on Tango’s shoulder. “I know there’s a chance it won’t work,” he starts quietly, “and we’ll have killed ourselves for nothin’. No one likes gettin’ their head cut off. But it’ll be over quick, we’ll respawn straight back here, and then at least we’ll know we tried everything.”
Tango makes a noncommittal noise. “Hey, I- I’m not afraid of a little decapitation, alright, I just… I feel kinda bad putting you through this, you know?” Guilt creeps into his expression. “It’s not your neck that the stupid thing is stuck on. You shouldn’t have to-”
“We’re in this together,” Jimmy tells him steadily. “So if you’re willin’ to try it, I’m happy to die along with ya.”
Tango manages a faint laugh. “Jeeze, honey, you- you don’t have to make it sound so dramatic. We aren’t on a three-life system anymore.”
Jimmy shrugs. “Well, that’s how I feel! Honestly, if there’s even a chance this’ll get that thing off’a you, I’m down.”
“Alright.” Tango takes a quick, steadying breath. “Okay, I wanna try.” He glances at Impulse. “Uh- commence the chop-ificating, then, I guess.”
Impulse nods; he’s keeping his expression and general demeanor calm, reassuring. “Okay, then. So here’s what I’m gonna do…” He carefully sets the edge of his blade along the rim of Tango’s collar, so that the metal is just barely touching skin, and then pinches the collar between the fingers of his other hand. “I’ll give it one quick, clean slice, and try to pull the collar off your body, okay?”
Tango tilts his chin up. “Okay,” he whispers. He’s nervous, now; every muscle in his body is rigid.
Jimmy reaches for his hand. “I’ll be right there with ya.”
Impulse tightens his grip on the sword. “Tango, gimme a countdown whenever you’re ready.”
“Alright.” Tango exhales shakily, closing his eyes. “Five... four... three... two...”
Jimmy closes his eyes and squeezes Tango’s hand.
“One.”
Pain slices across Jimmy’s neck- an intense, searing burn, like he’s swallowed a bucket of lava. There’s a rush of vertigo, the world spinning off-kilter around him. He’s instantly thrust into darkness, that all-consuming void with which he’s rather familiar.
And then it’s over. He’s back, sitting on the bed with Tango in a piled heap of limbs.
Jimmy sucks in a breath. Now that everything’s stopped spinning, he can see that the collar is still around Tango’s neck.
“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, sweeping Tango into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
Tango’s laugh is muffled against his shoulder. “Worth a shot, right?”
Impulse, standing a few feet away and holding a bloody sword, looks dismayed. “No good,” he says as he walks over, putting the sword away. “Your body respawned before I could pull the collar off. But uh, that’s… not the only issue.”
That makes Tango look over. “What is it?”
“I caught a look at the inner face of it,” Impulse says, frowning, “the part that’s actually touching your skin? And, um… it looks like there’s a bunch of little… spikes on the inside of the collar?”
“Spikes?” Jimmy repeats, raising his eyebrows.
“Yeah, I don’t know how else to describe them?” Impulse rubs the back of his neck. “Um, they’re black in color, not super big... probably thinner than my pinky finger but not like, needles or anything…”
“Oh.” Tango blinks. “It’s the thorns. They’re wither rose thorns. That’s how it works.”
Jimmy’s heart jolts. “What?”
Tango spreads his hands. “When Atlas locked the collar, it must’ve caused a- a bunch of thorns to pop out and dig into my neck. But they aren’t- they don’t have the full strength of wither rose, so that’s why I’m not getting the full wither effect, and after a while, you know, they sorta- they numb the area, so I don’t feel them. But when we start yanking on the collar, it forces them deeper into my skin, so it hurts.”
“Oh... my gosh,” Jimmy breathes, aghast. “That’s- that’s horrible!”
The whole concept of the collar is already inhumane- to treat a fellow sentient player like a simple animal. But this? This is just plain evil.
Impulse seems to be trying very hard not to get upset again. “Well, then,” he says, voice tight. “That rules out my next suggestion, which was to just go at it with a few sharp axes. I don’t wanna like, hammer those thorns deeper into your neck...” His expression turns thoughtful. “What if we try and get something sharp between your neck and the collar, slice off the thorns all the way around? Then we could-”
“No,” Tango interrupts. “Look, I- I appreciate the help, but if we tweak this thing the wrong way, it could probably jab an artery, or puncture my trachea, and then I’d respawn and be right back at square one again! No, I- I think we’re done.”
Impulse looks like he wants to argue, but Jimmy catches his gaze, giving him an imploring look.
“Alright,” Impulse relents. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy says, “we’ll get that collar off, I promise.”
“It’s fine.” Tango’s avoiding Jimmy’s eyes. “It... might not be the worst thing, you know, to have my fire locked down. Considering our fancy new house and all.”
Oh, they can’t have that. Jimmy puts a hand on his shoulder. “Tango,” he says seriously, “your fire is a part of you, and I’m not gonna rest til we’ve got it back.”
Tango sighs, but when he looks up, his eyes are fond. “I know.”
Impulse exhales slowly. “Do you... wanna try and get the cuffs off, then?” he offers.
“What?” Tango jolts. “Why? They aren’t hurtin’ anything.”
Impulse holds up his hands. “Hey, it’s okay, I just thought... if they’re from that terrible place, maybe you’d wanna get rid of ‘em?”
“And y’know,” Jimmy chimes in, “it’d be a lot easier for someone else to crack them off ya, couple good swings with an axe, maybe…”
“That won’t work,” Tango says stiffly. “They’ve been on me for so long now, been through so many respawns that if I’m not the one to remove them, it- they’ll just keep coming back.”
Impulse inhales through his teeth, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, man.”
“Are you sure?” Jimmy asks, his heart sinking. He isn’t overly familiar with the universal rules that determine what does and doesn’t respawn along with a player, but Tango seems pretty certain.
“Yeah. They’re basically part of my data now.”
“Oh.”
The unspoken question is glaringly obvious: ‘why haven’t you removed them yet, then?’ The cuffs seem just as well-made as the collar, but surely there’s a way to cut through them. At least, he should’ve been able to find a way sometime during the last ten years- even if he wasn’t comfortable asking any of the Hermits to help him.
But Jimmy can tell Tango’s already hit his limit for today. It’s a subject he’s always avoided discussing in the past, so they’ll just have to wait until he’s ready.
(Oh, gonna make that mistake again?)
‘Shut up,’ Jimmy thinks.
~*~
“Need some help, hun?”
“Ack!” Jimmy gives a start, accidentally yanking out the feather he’d been teasing. He whirls around. “Tango!”
Tango holds his hands up. “Sorry, sorry!”
“Jeeze,” Jimmy laughs, catching his breath, “I- I thought you guys were still working on the portal!”
“Well, yeah,” Tango says, closing the door behind him, “but Etho thinks we need a redstone ore block and we didn’t have any layin’ around, so he and Impulse went mining.” He crosses over to sit on the bed, curiously studying the feathers strewn about. “Doin’ some preening?”
“Um...” Jimmy ducks his head sheepishly. “Yeah, just- just the uh, burned ones... they’re startin’ to itch.”
Tango gives him a sad smile. “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to hide it from me, I- I won’t get all weird mega guilt-trippy about it.”
Jimmy softens. “I just... I know you’ve been beating yourself up about it, that’s all.” He gazes at the burned feather in his hand. “It was an accident. I don’t blame you.”
“I know.” Tango runs a gentle hand over one of Jimmy’s wings. “Can… can I help?”
Jimmy smiles. “Sure.”
~*~
“Wait, are you serious?” Tango asks, eyes wide. “You think the portal’s ready to go? Right now?”
Grain nods. “Yeah, I do.”
Jimmy glances between them with raised eyebrows. They’d called Grian over for a little update on the current state of the portal project- now complete with the fancy player detector system that the redstoners have been painstakingly building over the past week. But once Etho explained that the final step was stabilization, Grian had dropped a bomb on them.
“I’ve uh… been doin’ some research,” Grian continues, “and I’m pretty sure that Hels has a firewall that’s just been sorta… inverted? It’s still a one-way barrier, it just stops players from making portals out rather than in. ‘Course, it’s still inaccessible by comm portal, but our little set-up here should circumvent that. Once we’ve gotten the portal to lock onto Bravo’s coords, there shouldn’t be anythin’ stopping it from forming.”
Etho scratches the side of his mask. “Well, if we don’t have to stabilize the portal, that’ll definitely simplify things,” he says. “We might actually have everything we need already.”
“Couldn’t hurt to fire it up,” Impulse agrees, glancing at Tango. “Just to give it a little test drive? If we do get a portal open, we can easily shut it down right after. We don’t have to actually go through it.”
Tango hesitates. “But wouldn’t Grian have to lift the lockdown?”
“Yeah, I will,” Grian amends. “But I’ve actually just finished settin’ up a firewall, so when I lift the lockdown, we’ll still be protected. We’ll be able to leave through any portal we want, but no one else can get in without bein’ on the whitelist.”
“Wait, really?” Tango looks surprised. “Why- did you let the others know? I- I’m sure they’ll wanna get back to their other worlds.”
“Ey, I only just finished it!” Grian defends. “I wanted to let you lot know first, so there wouldn’t be any panic or confusion if people started randomly leavin’ through portals. I’ll inform the others, but uh, I’m pretty sure they’ll wanna just stick around til we get this done. Especially if the portal’s ready to go. All that’ll be left to do is come up with our plan of attack, and we’ll need all hands on deck for the actual mission.”
“Yeah,” Impulse says easily, “Hermitcraft can wait.”
Tango chews his lip. “I… I guess we can try it,” he relents.
“Great!” Grian pulls his communicator out. “Gimme a second to lift the lockdown, okay…”
Jimmy turns to Tango, taking him by the hands. “Hey, is this alright?” he asks softly. “We don’t have to try it today if you don’t wanna.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” Tango assures him, squeezing his hands. “It’s just- it’s a bit sooner than I was expecting, you know? But this is good. I mean, if this works, then this whole business will finally be over.”
Jimmy’s eyes trace the collar around Tango’s neck. “Yeah. And not a moment too soon.”
Obviously they’ve still got a pretty significant task ahead of them. It’ll be no easy feat to storm Hels Tek, not if they’ve got as much muscle backing them up as they did for the invasion. Atlas is one slippery fella, and it might be hard to get Bravo to listen to them long enough to cooperate. But getting the portal in working order is another hurdle down, so they can shift gears towards the impending mission. And once that’s done, there’ll no longer be a threat hanging over them.
Suffice to say, Jimmy’s looking forward to getting back to his domestic bliss.
“Okay,” Grian says, glancing up, “lockdown is officially lifted. Go ahead.”
“Alright, Tango.” Etho pushes away from the wall. “Uh, just hop onto the redstone ore block whenever you’re ready, I guess? Everything should be in place.”
Tango exhales shakily, looking nervous, but he manages to give Jimmy a smile. “Here goes nothin’...”
Turning away, he steps onto the redstone ore block, which immediately lights up. It starts a sort of ripple effect along the dust that connects it to the rest of the redstone, triggering all kinds of ticking and flashing. It’s all Jimmy can do to follow the signal as it travels towards the portal frame-
Static fills the air, and the portal ignites. Swirling red light fills the frame.
“Oh, nice,” Grian breathes.
“Yes!” Impulse cheers. “We did it!”
“Okay, uh, Tango?” Etho nods at him. “Go ahead and step off the block, now.”
Tango doesn’t respond. He’s staring at the portal with an unreadable expression clouding his gaze, almost as if in a trance.
Jimmy quickly hurries to his side. “Tango,” he murmurs, gently shaking his arm, “come on.”
“Huh?” Tango jolts. “Oh, oh right, sorry!”
He steps aside, and the portal remains lit. Impulse grins. “Alright, looks like we’re good,” he says, stooping over to hit a button next to the portal. A piston extends across the redstone line, and the portal extinguishes.
Jimmy lets out a breath of relief. An irrational part of him had been worried that Hels players would immediately start pouring through. “You okay?” he asks Tango quietly.
Tango nods. “Yeah, sorry,” he says with an apologetic smile. “I’m fine, it just… kinda hit me all at once.”
“Yeah,” Impulse says, “I definitely wasn’t expecting to have a working portal today, either. But hey, good job guys!”
“Yeah, nicely done, fellas,” Grian says, sounding pleased. He starts typing on his communicator. “I’m gonna let the others know we’ve got the portal workin’, and tomorrow… we’ll all meet to start planning our invasion of Hels. I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can come up with a solid plan to get Bravo, get that key from Atlas, and get out.”
Tango snorts. “Oh, sure. Easy peasy.”
“Don’t worry,” Jimmy says, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “We won’t go through til we’re all good and ready, yeah?”
Tango’s expression softens. “Yeah.”
“Right.” Grian puts his communicator away. “Get some rest, everyone, and we’ll see you tomorrow. Details in chat.”
~*~
<Grian> portal done. meet @ impulse and bdubs tomorrow at noon for hels invasion plotting. all ideas welcome
<PearlescentMoon> Ooh :0
<InTheLittleWood> wait seriously? already??
<Renthedog> YO amazing job on the portal guys! :D
<BdoubleO100> oh THANKS A LOT for volunteering us to host GRIAN!!
<Grian> :P
~*~
Later that night, in the dark quiet of their room, Tango rolls over to nestle his head beneath Jimmy’s chin, claws bunching up the fabric of his shirt.
“Thanks,” he murmurs.
Jimmy hums. “For what?”
“For… not givin’ up on me.”
“What’d’you mean?”
“I mean… you know, I- after everything I did, and- and everything I said…”
“I already told you, that doesn’t matter to me.”
“Yeah, I know. But when I realized the secret was out… that things were- that we couldn’t just go back to normal… I mean, I was convinced it was over. Everything, my- my new life, my freedom, my friends. Us. But you never gave up hope.”
“Of course. It’s been a long road here, alright, I- I’m not givin’ that up without a fight.”
Tango tilts his chin up to look at Jimmy, red eyes glowing in the dark, and leans in to meet his lips. They kiss slow and sweet. Warmth hums in Jimmy’s chest.
This hasn’t been an easy journey, and he knows there’s plenty more challenges still ahead. Even if the mission to Hels goes well and they achieve all that they want to, the experiences Tango’s been through won’t magically go away. It’ll take time. Healing isn’t linear. But with everything out in the open now and the support of their friends, Jimmy’s hopeful that Tango can start to unlearn his self-hatred. Jimmy will be there every step of the way.
All too soon, Tango pulls away. “We should get some rest,” he whispers, settling against Jimmy again.
“Yeah,” Jimmy sighs ruefully, draping a wing across Tango. “Gonna need all two of my brain cells at full strength.”
Tango huffs a soft laugh. “Love you, honey.”
Jimmy closes his eyes, smiling. “Love you, too.
~*~
Jimmy wakes up to a cold bed.
That immediately sets off alarm bells in his head, because since when has Tango gotten out of bed before him? Then he opens his eyes and realizes it’s still night; a faint crescent moon hangs in the starry sky visible through their window. Their room is dark and empty. Tango is nowhere to be seen.
The alarm bells become a siren.
No, no, no, no, no.
Jimmy springs out of bed, sparing a second only to grab his shoes off the floor before throwing the door open. His heart is in his throat as he flies down the stairs to the main level- all dark and empty- and hooks the corner to wrench open the basement door.
Already he can see the chilling red glow from the portal cast across the wall, a shadow of bleeding light, and a million curses scream through his mind. His stomach feels like it’s knotted in on itself and his lungs are burning for air, he’s moving faster than what seems physically possible and yet not nearly fast enough as he crashes down the stairs and bursts into the portal room, mouth opening to cry out-
Just in time to watch Tango vanish into the red light.
~*~
Somewhere in Hels, a player walks through a portal.
Tango’s heartbeat pounds in his ears. He’s already started shaking- if it weren’t for the wither effect flowing from his collar, he’s certain his blaze rods would be igniting right now. It’s a bizarre mix of emotions. The scent of ash and the sight of netherrack are comforting, in a way. Familiar. But it’s also terrifying, because there’s no mistaking where he is.
(There’s a reason he doesn’t like hanging out in the nether.)
Fear threatens to swallow him. He pushes it down; he’s got a job to do.
Forcing a steadying breath through his clenched teeth, he takes in his surroundings, ears pricked cautiously. He’s definitely not at spawn- he’s at the border of a basalt delta, actually, fine gray particles fluttering through the air. Aside from the portal behind him, there’s not a structure in sight. No sounds save for the distant bubbling of lava and the distinctive slap of magma cubes.
Tango frowns, chewing his lip. The portal was supposed to take him to Bravo, so he must be around here somewhere. Why he’s not at Hels Tek, Tango isn’t sure. Maybe they’re out on an errand run? Either way, he ought to start looking around.
But first, he’s got to break the portal so no one can follow him. Everything he’d packed made it through with him, thankfully, so he equips his pickaxe and turns back to the portal-
Just in time for Jimmy to emerge, running straight into him.
The collision knocks Tango to the ground, pickaxe flying from his hand, his forehead stinging where it smacked against Jimmy’s chin. Blinking spots from his eyes, he pushes himself up on his elbows with a groan. Once his vision stops spinning, he locks eyes with Jimmy, who seems just as shocked as he is.
Both of them shout at exactly the same moment.
“What are you doing here?!”
~*~
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𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰
Chapter two
Paring: Robb Stark x f!Reader
Summary: After avoiding Robb for a few days you decide taking a short ride through the woods wouldn't hurt, but you find yourself once again in an unexpected encounter with The King himself.
Warnings: Plot building lots of plot building
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: I forgot to mention this is kinda a slow burn (sort of not really) anyway find series master list here.
It had been days since the last time Robb even caught a glimpse of you, he found himself frequently thinking about the conversation you two shared any chance he got. He understood he had more important things to focus on besides a woman he barely knew, for gods sake he was fighting a war yet, you had his mind running in circles.
He was lost in thought when he was interrupted by Ser Brynden clearing his throat, Robb looked up from the map in front of him, staring at the knight waiting for him to speak, when he doesn't he turns to his mother who is watching him intently Catelyn motions her head down towards the table he quickly understands her look turning his focus back to the task at hand sliding a wooden figure across the map signifying where the Lannisters will strike next. The talk of battle plans and strategies rang throughout the large tent for hours before finally Ser Brynden excused himself biding both him and his mother goodnight.
Catelyn stayed her eyes fixed on her son. “You’re distracted.”
Robb quickly lifts his head looking at his mother. Was he truly that transparent?
“I'm not.” he states looking back down at the map faking his focus.
Catelyn moves to stand next to him “don’t lie.” Her tone shifted forcing Robb to look at her.
Her eyes were bearing into his in hope he’d reveal his troubles but he didn't. He just stared at her, slightly praying she wouldn’t ask anymore questions.
Catelyn tilts her head looking at her son “we can not afford distractions.” She says, reaching her hand up briefly placing it on his arm before pulling away. He nods, “No, we can not.” His voice was quiet, his hand fidgeting with the pommel of his sword.
His prayers were answered when she sighed “get some rest, gods know you'll need it” she says looking at him with a sympathetic smile as she left.
Robb watches his mother leave, before turning around running a hand over his face with a groan, he sits down in a chair next to the table looking up at the ceiling of the tent. He needed to get a grip.
You woke in the early morning, the sun not yet visible. The thin cloth walls of the tent doing very little to keep the cold at bay. You had been informed yesterday that you and your remaining men would be moving camps to one between Riverrun and Oldstones and that you were to begin preparing as soon as possible. You knew your men were in no condition to travel anyone with eyes could see that. Yet, an order is an order.
You don't move staying as you were for a while staring at the ceiling of your tent, till you hear the muffled voices of tired men as the rest of camp begins to wake, you groan managing to drag yourself out from under the warmth of fur blankets and throw on your clothes and some light armor you then secure your belt and pick up your sword and dagger sheathing them both before leaving the tent grabbing your cloak on the way out pulling it over yourself while walking.
The sun was finally beginning to rise as you make your way to a tree which you’d secured your horse to for safe keeping, a beautiful Friesian horse stands tall pawing at the ground with one hoof as you walk up to him extending your hand running it along the side of his face, you lean close resting your forehead on his cheek for a moment, deciding a small ride wouldn’t hurt seeing that it was still early and it would be hours before the men were ready to move.
You pull away grabbing the blanket and saddle that rested against the tree, gently draping the blanket across his back, then taking the saddle and hosting it on after. You secure the reins pulling yourself up on to him, giving him a pat on the side of his neck before bounding off into the woods.
The cold morning air rushed past your face, the trees all but a blur as you pass them. You ride for a while before slowing to a halt, looking up you stare at the huge canopy of trees watching the branches sway in the wind, their leaves beginning to change from the green of summer to vibrant shades of red and orange, leaving a sea of fire throughout the forest floor. You bring your horse to a slow walk admiring the world around you when the faint sound of rushing water fills your ears bringing a smile to your face, you drive the Friesian to a gallop heading in the direction of the noise, as you near closer a sharp breeze whisks through the air causing you to pull the hood of your cloak up and over your head sheltering your face from the cold.
It's not long before you find yourself face to face with a large river, the water rushing and hitting rocks in its path. Dismounting your horse, and securing him to a nearby tree you walk to the bank crouching down on one knee dipping a hand into the icy river you pull your hood down exposing your face. Staring at your reflection in the rippling water the bruise on your temple was beginning to fade from a violent purple to a brownish green, the cut itself self nothing more than a scab. Although it would scar. You take a deep breath, lowering both hands in the river cupping them, letting the water collect in your palms before splashing some on your face, hoping it would clear the lingering sleep.
“It can be quite dangerous for a lady out here all alone”
The voice made you jump almost falling head first into the water, luckily you catch yourself quickly standing and turning around to face the voice, you draw your sword half out of its sheath before you realize who it is, the one and only Robb Stark.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, letting your sword fall back into place, before looking at him.
He's seated atop a stocky brown horse, a heavy fur lined cloak wrapped around his broad shoulders, gloved hands resting on the reins in front of him with a grin plastered across his face.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you” He says, you could tell he was amused with your reaction based on the small laugh that fallowed the words causing you to look down as you feel a slight tinge of embarrassment you hoped to hide.
Robb leans back slightly before dismounting the horse holding the reins in his hand leading it to a nearby tree close to where you’d left yours.
“You’re up early” He says while securing the reins to the tree, turning his head to look over his shoulder flashing you a small smile.
“As are you.” You quip walking past him with your hands clasped behind your back glancing at him as you make your way to your horse. His eyes were glued on you as you passed.
“Seems we both prefer mornings.” You hum in response running your hand along the neck of your horse adjusting the reins before turning to face him. His eyes rake over you before settling on your face sending a rush of nerves flooding through you causing your hand to fidget with the hilt of a dagger attached at the front of your waist, that seemed to catch his attention his eyes fall from your face to your hands, he motions his head towards the dagger.
“May I?” He asks, taking a step closer leaves crunching underneath his boots.
You nod, removing the dagger from its sheath twirling it in your hand before passing it to him. The silver blade is not more than nine inches complete with a brown handle littered with intricate designs. He examines it closely tilting the knife watching as it catches glints of light, he softly runs his fingers along the blades edge careful not to cut himself.
“It’s a beautiful blade.” He pauses for a moment looking up from the dagger to meet your eyes “Valyrian steel?” You nod.
“It was a gift from my father.” Your voice was flat not a tinge of emotion present.
In fact it was the only gift you’d ever received from him. It was one of the rare nights when he wasn’t in a foul mood. He had sat you down drunk as ever rambling on about great houses and their Valyrian weapons, when suddenly he revealed the dagger quickly shoving it into your hands, motioning at it telling you “go on look at it.” Carefully you had unsheathed it, releasing the blade admiring its beauty just as Robb. That was one of the few seemingly "decent" memories you had with your father if you could call them that.
The shift in your voice didn't go unnoticed by Robb, and for a moment he thought to ask you about it, but ultimately decided not to. So instead he nodded looking the dagger over once more then handing it back to you hilt first, you take it sliding it back into its sheath.
He couldn't help but stare, the dim morning light reflecting off the side of your face making you seem unreal. He seemed to be caught in a trance.
You cleared your throat snapping him out of the daze.
"I-" He paused for a moment collecting himself "I'm sure you were informed of our plans."
"If you mean me and my mens departure, then yes I was" You look at the sky behind him, the sun now well above the horizon filling the forest with light. "And by the looks of it I should take my leave."
Robb had insisted you let him accompany you on the way back, so here you were, the morning sun beaming down as the two of you ride into camp you were aware of the eyes lingering on your backs but you pay no mind. You both slow your horses to a stepping pace leisurely making your way through the sea of rushing soldiers. When you arrive in front of Robb's tent he dismounts his horse letting a young squire take the reins, Robb tips his head as a ‘thank you’ while the boy leads him away.
He turns his attention back to you. “M’lady.” He says, giving you a half smile.
“Your grace.” You bid him farewell, bowing your head returning the smile before bringing your horse to a trot heading off to prepare your men for travel.
Robb watched you leave, shaking his head as he turned walking through the opening of the large tent.
#robb stark#robb stark x reader#robb stark x y/n#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones#ned stark#jon snow#house stark#jon snow x reader#fluff#robb stark smut#robb stark x you#jon snow smut#got#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#house of the dragon
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I watched the first three seasons of 911 back when that was all that had aired and just didn’t keep watching after the break between seasons for whatever reason. I also didn’t really get buddie, I just thought it was a beautiful friendship. I’m now on a rewatch and just got to the end of season 4 and boy am I all in, Buck’s reaction to Eddie getting shot and the aftermath really made me get it. Anyway, I was wondering if you have any fic recs for a buddie newbie? I’m probably gonna speed through the rest of the show in a few days and need something else to occupy me hahah
hey bud, welcome back to the world of 911!! 🥰 okay so i have some previous fic recs that i've posted here and i also have 489 bookmarks on ao3 which you can have a scroll through here (i only ever bookmark something for rereading or reccing purposes so can confirm i've read and loved them all)
but i'll do my best to make a somewhat cohesive list below of some of my personal faves. i have no doubt i'll probably leave some out accidentally but they'll definitely be in my bookmarks so 100% check those out too!! ❤️
The Nearness of You by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure
Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it. Or: Buck and Eddie go on a work trip.
Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania / @hmslusitania
“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.
To Build a Home We Deconstruct Our Rituals by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels /@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
After the shooting, Eddie realizes he needs to put some things in place. Like who will get his assets if he dies. Who will speak for him if he ends up in a coma. What might happen if his family contests Buck's guardianship. Luckily, he's got a simple easy-peasy solution that won't result in insanity, catastrophe, or heartbreak: Marry Buck.
standing on the brink of emptiness by woodchoc_magnum / @woodchoc-magnum
In which Eddie is struggling in the aftermath of being shot, learning how to take care of himself and realising he's in love with Buck; and Buck is dating Taylor, taking care of Eddie and Christopher and trying to figure out why he's so goddamn confused about everything.
across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by catchingpapermoons
“We’re working on it,” Maddie explains, shooting Chimney a look. He nods seriously. “In couples therapy.” “Huh,” Eddie says, and then he thinks about it. "Do you think Buck and I would benefit from couples therapy?" — or, Eddie gets Buck to come to couples therapy with him.
darling, the future's better than yesterday by rarakiplin (gmontys)
Eddie, ten years younger, in this awful 2010, blinks up at him. He's still sitting slumped on the curb, and for a second Buck thinks he might tell him to fuck off, but then his eyes fall shut and there’s something — aching and painfully vulnerable in the bend of his mouth, the faint tension in his brow. “My…um, girlfriend, I guess. She’s pregnant.” “Holy shit,” Buck says. - or, buck deals with some wonky dimensional/time travel and then breaks up with his girlfriend. eddie, obviously, is involved.
i'm here (i’m yours for the taking) by farfromthstars / @buckactuallys
“Everyone!” Around forty heads turn, and Buck shifts on his feet uncomfortably at the attention. “This is my old friend Buck and his husband, Eddie.” “Uh,” Buck makes, turning to Eddie with wide eyes. Eddie's looking just as stunned. “Connor, I think you got–” He cuts himself off when Eddie wraps an arm around his waist. ~ at the winter wedding of an old friend, buck and eddie pretend to be married to each other. the plan has no weaknesses, obviously, not even mistletoe or anyone’s secret feelings… they call it the season of giving i'm here, i'm yours for the taking
Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.
no kingdom to come by waywardrenegades
Family, FaceTime, guilt trips, phone calls, church, heart healthy meals, and learning how to let yourself be happy. Whatever that looks like. or; when his father experiences a health scare, Eddie flies to El Paso.
when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) by catchingpapermoons
Buck walks toward Jee-Yun’s room, still talking, and Christopher trails after him, asking excited questions in response, and Eddie’s smile grows. He wants this forever. Everything, every part of it; Buck, Christopher, and him—that’s all he needs. And— Oh. Oh no. He shuts his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. He’s looking at Buck, and feeling something strictly not platonic at all. or: Eddie needs to learn how to let himself feel, and one step at a time, he learns how to do just that. (And he falls in love with Buck along the way.)
i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove / @hattalove
She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.
everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths / @bucktommys
LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane. buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.
said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by hattalove
“I think,” he says, watching Karen pull Hen out onto the dance floor, their eyes never leaving each other’s, “I think I’m just—sad.” Maybe. That feels like a close enough word to describe this gaping maw right in the center of his chest. It’s only really there sometimes, taking little bites out of him, easy enough to ignore, but today is worse. “About being single at a wedding,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shrugs. “Sounds stupid when you put it that way.” or, the one with the four weddings (feat. a drunk karen wilson, shania twain, a single cheerio, and some confessions over cubed fruit).
cause i'm tired of sleeping alone by rarakiplin (gmontys)
Buck goes on dates now. Not often, and never with the same girl twice in a row, but he goes on dates. And the thing is — the thing is, Eddie can’t be mad about that, because he goes on dates too. - or, five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other
so far from being free by allisonRW96
"That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible. But even if Buck was capable of doubting Maddie, the truth of her confession is evident in the way it throws every facet of his childhood into sudden perfect clarity. That yawning, arctic absence. The unnamable fear. The impenetrable target of his parents’ approval that he was never, ever going to be able to hit. That they didn’t want him to hit. He has a brother. A dead brother who has haunted Buck’s steps for his entire life."
don't let the tide come and wash us away by writerforlife
Buck develops a relationship with the ocean, avoids talking about the day Eddie was shot, realizes he might be in love, and drives. Order may vary. (a fic for the "Buck is going to break all the way down in season 6" truthers)
dance, for all that we've been through by catchingpapermoons
The Los Angeles Ballet’s 2022-2023 season ends with a bang with their fresh take on a ballet staple, Swan Lake. Artistic Director Bobby Nash is in his eighth season with the Los Angeles Ballet, and it has flourished under his direction. However, his associate, Eddie Diaz, is the one whose reimagining of the choreography has caught our attention... (or, Eddie Diaz moves to L.A. to restart his dance career, and ends up choreographing a show, finding a family, and falling in love. Not necessarily in that order.)
I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other. When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other.
never felt this way before (yes i swear) by withoutthetiger
It’s the summer of 2022, when Buck no longer wants to be called Evan, and it only occurs to his parents to mind. It’s after the pandemic – or so they say – and before whatever hell will befall the world next, when Buck can’t wait to join the LAFD in September, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever meet someone as gently strong and fiercely protective as his big sister. It’s the summer he goes with his family to the One Eighteen Ranch & Lodge. *** A Dirty Dancing AU, set in Texas in 2022, featuring a whole lot of familiar faces in a not so familiar place.
Fragile lines (and wasted time) by Mellaithwen / @mellaithwen
“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin. But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed. “I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed. . While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.
Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania
“You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.
keep your eyes on the road by iriswests / @fcntasmas
Buck used to speed through yellow lights; now they’re his favorite part of the drive. -- or; a glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light
Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston
The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. +++ [Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)
as lucky as us by hammersmiths
One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.
#anon#asks#911 related#buddie fic rec#happy reading anon!!!#like i said this is only a tiny list in comparison to the amount i've read and loved
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July 2024 fic roundup
Here are the highlights from this month! I really love doing these. It helps me be more engaged with what I’m reading and actually remember individual fics once I’m done with them (rather than stuffing them in the collective “fic soup” in my brain, where they’ll combine together until there’s no hope of remembering details). Anyway, I highly recommend doing some sort of fic journal! I’d love to know what you guys are reading.
🦆👧 Temporum VI by Emily_M1013
This is the third installment of a wonderful Emily AU, The Mallards series. I love how it puts its own spin on canon events, and I’m delighted every time I see an update in my inbox!
🤫🪪 Snakebitten by @onpaperfirst
My favorite thing about this fic is the way it adds to canon without rehashing what we’ve already seen in the show, building on season 5 so seamlessly. (The motel scene is 👌)
👰♀️🤵♂️yesterday’s future by @thursdayinspace
This fic answers the question I posed in this post: What if Mulder and Scully got married right after William was born? I loved it so much! The angst and the longing and the overwhelming love were just perfect.
👓😩 spectacular by @thursdayinspace
Scully has a thing for Mulder in glasses. Mulder has a think for Scully in glasses. They bang about it. (And who can blame them, really?)
🌳☕️ Suncadia by @sisterspooky1013
A banger from the great sisterspooky! It’s a casefic set in the weird post-Millennium era where they kiss sometimes but haven’t established the terms of their relationship yet. Pining and yearning abound!
🏥👰♀️ Something blue (and something pink) by @sunflowernyx
Mulder and Scully get married during the cancer arc. It’s sweet, angsty, adorable, and tender. I thoroughly enjoyed it!
🐶🪤 A Change of Seasons by Jo-Ann Lassiter
Still making my way through @lilydalexf’s survival fic recs! This one is a one-shot; perfect for when you want a bit of hurt/comfort without all the peril and drama.
🌨️🌲 Frozen by @dashakay
Classic, cozy, cabin-in-the-woods fic where our two favorite agents get snowed in and finally admit their feelings for each other.
🏥👻 Finding Rokovoko by prufrockslove
An instant addition to my holy grail list! This is the first fic I’ve read by this legendary author (I think?), and BOY HOWDY do I see why they’re so revered. I finished this fic in one sitting, reading late into the night (yes, I was very tired at work the next day).
I think it’s best if you go into this one mostly blind. All you need to know is that MSR are teetering on the knife’s edge between UST and RST, there’s plenty of cancer arc angst, and they go on a spooky adventure that will give you the creepy crawlies.
📝📱 Belphegor’s Prime by prufrockslove
Another absolute banger from the legend themselves. This fic is as close to perfection as humanly possible. The way everything comes together is just incredible. If you haven’t read it yet, do it now! Shirk all other responsibilities and devour this fic in one sitting!
One of my favorite things about this fic is how ruthless Mulder is. I don’t think I’ve encountered a version of him quite like this anywhere else. His intense love for his family and his innate sense of duty are intensified to the point where he skirts the boundaries of what’s morally acceptable. He’s so desperate to protect his loved ones and fix the world that he will do anything, even if he risks becoming his father(s). It felt so organic and natural for him to become that version of himself under the extreme circumstances.
Anyway, if you’re a fan of time travel, DILFs, or characters whose greatest strengths become a curse, this is the perfect fic for you!
🎪🎡 More Than a Feeling by @sisterspooky1013
A s6 casefic where M&S go undercover at a traveling carnival. I love how fleshed-out the OCs were — it really raised the stakes of the story and made you care what happened to them. Such a fun read!
🐞🩺 Inspection by @ingridgradient
Our favorite agents use tick checks as an excuse to touch each other. Need I say more? Things get hot! (Thanks for the rec, @is-on-its-way!)
P.S. If you like this one, check out let’s have a look by girlfromnowhere (thanks for finding it for me, @randomfoggytiger!)
🏴✝️ Hiraeth by prufrockslove
This is one of those fics that leaves you gobsmacked that someone wrote this for free and posted it online for anyone to enjoy. The amount of detail in this story is truly unbelievable. I don’t even normally like total AUs, but this one won me over!
Mulder and Scully’s medieval counterparts are so far removed from anything in canon, yet they still feel exactly like the characters we know and love. This fic is an absolute master class in characterization. I am now a prufrockslove stan account.
———
Special shoutout to @skelavender’s latest installment of fall into place, which isn’t out yet but I had the pleasure of beta reading. Guys, you are in for some serious shrimp emotions. It’s got everything you could ever want. I can’t wait until everyone gets to see how awesome it is!
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"I'll always love you" pt 2
Pt 1. Pt 3, Pt 4
Mattheo Riddle × fem!reader
Theodore nott × fem!reader (ex)
Warning: smut, fluff, 18+, minors stay away!
Not a proof read!
Summary: waking up in strangers bed isn't probably the best idea of moving on right? Or is it?
I woke up in an unfamiliar room with a bad headache. Looking over my side I saw a man sleeping peacefully, naked? I looked at myself and realised I too was naked.
"fuck" i mumbled and went to look for my clothes but they were no where to be found, suddenly a voice came making me flinch "you're clothes aren't there" I turned to see that guy rubbing his eyes trying to open them, "look away!" I scolded him while covering my self with a towel that I found on the chair.
"nothing I haven't seen before" he said with a smirk. How can someone be this handsome? "Anyways the clothes are probably laying in bathroom, covered in water, I'll give you a warm bath and my clothes to wear, and I can't leave you empty stomach, so we'll grab brunch and then I'll drop you at your home" he said while going in bathroom leaving me dumbfounded.
Is that what you do to your one night stand?
"come on the bath is ready!" I heard him saying, I tried to walk but the pain in my abdomen was killing me, last night must be rough, as I didn't entered the bathroom immediately he came and saw me stumbling, he chuckled and picked me up, "hey I can walk you know!" I shouted in protest, "yeah I saw that" he smiled at me and walked towards the bathroom.
He helped me take a bath and this time I didn't protested because I was so tired, that i barely remember last night.
"By the way, what's your name?" I asked him as me massaged my back "Mattheo. Mattheo Riddle" he answered and massaged my back harder earning a moan from me.
As his hands travelled my back i couldn't help but think of very inappropriate thoughts.
"you were crying very bad yesterday" he told me, as I was sitting in his lap he couldn't see my face so he tried to peek to take a look, "yeah my apparent love of my life got married to someone else" I told him with no emotions, I just couldn't feel anything, I guess the one night stand and vodka did worked.
"ohh" was all he said, and his hands moved to my neck, and my breath started to feel heavier with each moment passing by, i turned around, and looked into his eyes.
My hands trailing his perfectly cut abs, his broad shoulders, his chest and abdomen. He looked at me with eyes filled with mixed emotions, and said "are you sure?" "Never been more sure in my life" i answered and pulled our lips closer, they didn't touched but lingered on eachother, our breath started to become heavier, i pulled back looking into his eyes, and pulled closer again, with a frustrating groan he finally attached our lips and kissed me with desire.
His hands travelled to knead my breast and my hands travelled to his back leaving marks with my nails, his lips moved slowly to my neck and I gave him more space to mark his territory.
Soon his lips were on my nipple, nibbling and sucking them with one hand paying attention to my other breast. His one hand trailing my body trying to memorize it "you're so beautiful" he said and i blushed.
I grinned on his hard boner earing a moan from him, fuck so beautiful. I needed him.
"Mattheo- oh my" i moaned as he bit my nipple. "I'm going to enter you" he told me before slowly slipping his dick into my folds, "Matty!" I moaned as I felt him into me.
"What did you called me?" He spoke while looking into my eyes, "Mattheo?" I answered him with confusion, "no the other name" and realisation hit me brain "Matty?" I answered "yeah call me again" he said and thrusted into me few times, pulling in and out, after sometime I felt my orgasm coming near, i moan his nickname as pleasure rode me over "Matty I'm gonna cum" i warned his before cumming all over his dick, "I'm gonna cum too" he said and I told him "cum inside me" he gave me a are you sure? Look and I nodded, and just like that he came inside me.
We tried catching our breath "that was-" before he could finished i answered for him "amazing".
He cleaned both of us gave me his cloth and took me to brunch. "So tell me about yesterday I forgot everything" i said while eating my food, he chuckled "you came into bar and drank vodka like a madman, i came and sat by your side and told you to slow down, but you insisted and told me you had the worst day of your life, and then you told me to help you forget it and that's how we landed in my bed" he shrugged and i felt embarrassed "oh my" that's all I could say.
We talked the entire brunch and it felt amazing, it felt so refreshing that I wish the day wouldn't end, but it was time for me to go home, he opened the door for me and I sat into his car, I turned the radio on and played Taylor Swift, to my surprise he knew the songs, "you listen to Taylor?" I asked him curiously "i do, i love her" he answered while looking over me, we jammed the entire ride and felt him stealing glances at me.
We arrived at my house and he opened the car door for me, I was about to leave but I turned around and called his name "Mattheo!" He turned and looked at me smiling "yeah?" "It was nice meeting you. Mind exchanging phone numbers?" I asked him grinning like a child, he chuckled "i thought you'd never ask" we exchanged our numbers and hugged eachother, "we'll meet this weekend?" He asked me "a date?" I looked at him teasingly "A date! Be ready at 6" he answered and i chuckled at him.
I laid on my bed thinking about the events that occurred in past 2 days. I am moving on. I smiled at myself and my phone vibrated, i looked at the text it said
Unknown
Matty here! Be ready at 6 on Saturday I'll pick you up ;)
I laughed and answered
Me
Sure ;)
And yeah I'm officially going crazy.
Thought it was being long so I decided to end it here! If you want a part 3 with Theodore's encounter let me know!
#harry potter#theodore nott scenarios#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott smut#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#Mattheo Riddle#mattheo riddle angst#mattheo riddle fanfiction#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo x you#mattheo riddle
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Post-Apocalyptic Shopkeep Bakugou
Shopkeep Bakugou, linguist reader Post-apocalyptic au, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mild swearing, fluffy ending 💌 1,205 words
This came from me being tired and skimming a prompt for another piece - coffee shop/bookstore au or dystopia au with Bakugou - and my eepy brain turning it into ‘dystopian bookstore Bakugou’. I ended up imagining less of a bookstore per se, and more of a shop from a dystopian/post-apocalyptic game where you’d buy weapon upgrades, treasure maps, etc from an older and incredibly tired Bakugou.
WARNING! This is quite a bit darker than what I usually write, it contains mentions of blood and death (the reader recalling seeing someone being shot).
Making the trek across the dried-up seabed was always a challenge, even as civilization slowly expanded, creeping closer and closer to the old shipwreck. You adjusted the piece of fabric you’d tied over your nose and mouth; the dust kicked up with every step was hazardous if inhaled. It would cut your lungs to shreds - or so you’d heard. You didn’t want to take any chances.
Finally you spotted the wreck, tucked into a dip in the ocean floor. As always, you took a short detour to marvel at the bones jutting from the ground close to the wreckage. You always liked to imagine that this giant creature was the one to take down the ship, tearing it to pieces before letting it sink to the bottom of the ocean. Maybe it died from its wounds? Maybe it had cut itself on the metal of the hull and bled to death? Or - much more likely - the creature was a victim of the ocean drying up, completely unrelated to the wreckage. You shrugged, reaching out to touch the sun-bleached bones. It didn’t matter what the truth was. You’d never find out anyway, and the idea of a battle between ship and sea monster was fun.
Moving on, you started the climb onto the shipwreck, careful to not cut yourself on the rusty metal. Your gaze crept up to the bow of the ship where the name had once been painted. It had bleached enough over the centuries that it was almost invisible, all you could read was ‘MS Ba--’ Maybe that was why he’d picked this place. Far enough from civilization that only serious buyers would make the trek. You had started to think of the wreckage as the ‘MS Bakugou.’ Another thing to amuse yourself with. And amusement was exactly why you’d come.
The air cooled around you as you moved deeper into the wreck. Finally, you reached your destination, a door with the words ‘stay the fuck away!’ painted on it. Ignoring the warning, you began spinning the handle, your labored breath almost drowning out the muted sounds of the latches clicking into place on the opposite side of the door. Then, you heaved the door open, instantly raising your hands as the door clanged against the wall.
A battle-hardened crimson gaze bore into you over the barrel of a shotgun. You stood still, knowing well that moving before he’d recognized you might cause him to pull the trigger. You’d seen it happen when some idiot decided to attempt to raid the wreck while you’d been present. His rattling breath still haunted your dreams.
“It’s just me,” you said softly.
“You again?” His voice had a tinge of irritation, but he lowered the gun.
You entered, carefully stepping over the tall threshold, lest you trip like you did on your very first visit.
“What do you want this time?” Bakugou’s voice was tired. You couldn’t remember when his tone had changed from the snark it’d had that first time; when the hard edge had appeared. But you supposed that it happened to everybody over time.
Placing your hands behind your back, you looked around the room, inspecting the shelves.
“You got anything new?”
Bakugou gestured behind him before he picked up an oiled cloth and a rusty handgun receiver. “Bought a couple of crates from a traveler yesterday. Haven’t had a chance to look at them properly yet.”
Slipping behind the counter, you crouched next to the crates, slowly searching through the contents. Despite how irritated Bakugou had sounded when you showed up, it was testament to his trust that he allowed you to be behind him. It had taken years of visits before he’d stopped watching you like a hawk, longer still for him to relax in your presence. Turning your head, you just watched him for a while, watched his broad, scarred shoulders move under his tattered, sleeveless shirt as he cleaned the rusty handgun, gaze focused on the weapon. His movements were fluid with decades of practice. Hypnotizing.
Bakugou spared you a glance. “Found anything?”
“Not yet,” you replied, eyes snapping back to the crates.
You heard a soft chuckle but chose to ignore it as your fingertips brushed over something papery. Digging your hands further into the crate, you pulled out a stack of books, their pages yellow with age.
“Bakugou, look at this!”
He turned, one eyebrow rising when he saw the stack in your hands.
“Heh, only a nerd like you would be so happy over books.”
“I’m a scholar, you old fart!” you retorted.
Bakugou bundled the oiled cloth in his fists, preparing to throw it at you as punishment. His hands sank when you took no notice of him, too busy looking through the books. He had to fight to keep the fond smile off his lips when you looked back up, your eyes shining with glee.
You held a book out to him. “Check this one out!”
Bakugou just looked at you for a moment. “You know I can’t read that old-ass language - what did you call it again, English? People like you pick up the most useless skills.”
You shrugged, looking back at the book. “It’s useful for treasure hunting. And you know my lock-picking skills are excellent.” Tapping the cover, you added, “It’s a book of fairy tales.”
“Keh, children’s drivel,” Bakugou replied. “Sounds like it’ll be right up your alley.”
Ignoring him, you moved on to the next book. “And this one… ‘maps of the contiguous United States.’ Okay, this one is useless.”
Looking through the rest of the books, you deemed everything but the book of fairy tales unworthy. Holding out the book again, you asked, “How much?”
Bakugou scoffed. “You can have it. Can’t sell that shit anyway. Might as well give it to someone who’ll enjoy it.”
You beamed at him. “I’ll read it to the kids at the village in your honor.”
He shrugged, returning to his gun-cleaning. “If you must.”
Settling on the lid of one of the crates, you spent a moment looking at the movement of his shoulders again.
“Why don’t you ever come to the village? It’s safe there, and I’m sure your fighting experience would be appreciated. You don’t have to live by yourself.”
Baugou stopped for a moment, just staring at his hands, fingers flexing. “I don’t get along with people,” he finally said.
“You get along with me…”
“You’re an exception.”
You looked at the book again, fighting to keep the heat from rising in your cheeks from the unexpected compliment. Looking over the faded cover picture of five mice dancing around a cat, you then opened the book to the first tale.
“Want me to read it to you? It’ll let me practice reading for the kids.”
He shrugged again. “If you want.”
You started reading, pausing on occasion to think of a good translation or to explain some archaic term. During one of these times, you noticed that Bakugou had stopped working. He was leaning on the counter, hands still, eyes soft and unfocused as he listened.
He frowned, his eyes slipping back into focus. “Why’d you stop?”
“Just thinking.”
You continued reading, a smile blooming on your lips.
Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖
#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#post apocalyptic au#tw: blood#tw: death#mild swearing#bakugou#bakugo#bakugō#bakugô#katsuki#x reader#x you#drabble#drabbles
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I Like You, You Idiot
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: you and your best friend Dina go out on patrol where she saves you from dying and you feel you’re not enough. Instead of revealing your insecurities to her, you keep quiet. Later that night she takes you to a party and make a drunken confession which has her freaking out the morning after.
Cw: drinking, fighting, shooting, guns, vomiting, very subtle sexual themes
A/n: so sorry guys this was supposed to be out yesterday but I got super busy! Anyways hope you all enjoy!
You were woken up by the sound of someone knocking- no pounding on your door. With a tired groan you stumbled out of bed, paying no attention to how you were dressed in your pajamas. Skimpy shorts and a white tank top that your nipples peaked through because it was fucking winter and terribly cold. Suddenly you were extremely aware of your clothed as you opened the door to see Dina. What was she doing here?
“Dina? W-what do you want?” You ask, crossing your arms to try and cover up a bit.
“Uh- nice pjs” She laughed, “didn’t Maria tell you? We’ve got patrol this morning. Get ready I’ll wait.” She smirked, her eyes traveling the length of your body.
Her gaze lingered in certain spots. Your thighs, your boobs. That kinda stuff.
“Shut the hell up. Come in, it’s cold.” You open the door wider and let her inside.
Dina accepted your offer almost immediately because she was freezing out there. She sat on your couch, already knowing where to go since she’d been at your place countless times before. You’re busy getting dressed upstairs while she waits for you. You come back all nice and ready, getting your backpack on.
Dina lead the way to the stables, greeting the stable boy Jack. He smiled at her, his eyes roaming over her body. It pained you to watch them interact as he had such an obvious crush on her, but she seemed to ignore it. Which you didn’t understand. Anyways, Jack informed her that there was only one horse available for you and Dina. Some kind of horse flu was going around and the others were busy.
She thanked him and got said horse from its stable. You let her get on first, then climbed on the back. At first you’d been hesitant, but after reminding yourself that as her best friend you’d literally cuddled, you wrapped your arms around her waist and held on tight. You interlocked your hands where they met at her stomach, and she lead you guys to the path that would take you to your patrol building. After a little bit you decided to break the silence.
“Why don’t you go out with Jack?” You asked her, genuinely curious.
“Um what?” She laughed, you felt her body shake with her laughter, “what do you even mean?” She asked in return.
“He obviously likes you Dina. I mean who wouldn’t..” You mumbled the last part, hoping she didn’t hear it.
“Oh, well I don’t care. I like somebody else.” She responded confidently.
You couldn’t help it as you felt a bit disappointed. Sure it was good she didn’t fancy Jack, but she liked someone. Was it bad you hoped it was you she liked? You’d been best friends for years now and in all that time you managed to develop a crush on her. Then again, she was so charming and beautiful. Of course you liked her more than a friend! But she’d never know, not for the time being at least.
The two of you arrived at your patrol building, making sure your horse was settled in a comfortable area before going to fill out the patrol form. Dina signed both your names and nothing else since you hadn’t come in contact with anyone, or anything, yet. There was a couch in the area, so you decided to sit. Dina didn’t take long to join you, sitting close to you.
As you sat beside her you began to wonder about who she liked. Your mind went to a few different people, some she’d mentioned and others you just suspected. Dina was quiet too. Why, you weren’t sure. But you didn’t really care, better for you to think. After a few minutes Dina stood and said she had to use the bathroom. You told her to be careful and she told you not to worry. You sat and continued to think in peace, but not for long.
You felt your nerves shoot up as you heard some clattering, and not in the direction Dina had gone. Immediately you stood and took out your gun, glancing around the room for any signs of someone or worse, something. Just as you were about to turn back around, somebody shoved you hard enough to knock your gun from your hands. You yelped as you were now pinned to the ground by a rather large man, who had a baseball bat in his hands.
You struggled underneath him, hoping to get your pocket knife and stab him literally anywhere. But it wad no use, he had been sitting across your torso and trapping your arms all at the same time. So, after realizing you could not save yourself you started to scream and yell for Dina. Just as you were sure this deranged man was going to swing his bat right across your face, he was shot right in the head and fell backwards off of you. You could barely breathe as you scooted away and stood quickly. You gasped as you ran into Dina while backing away, she held you in her arms as your breathing was fast and irregular.
“Are you ok? Y/n?” She asked, her tone laced with concern.
“Yeah, yeah. Thank you.” You had trouble answering since your breathing was so erratic, but you managed.
You nuzzled your face into her neck as your head rested on her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around your back as she kept watch for anyone else who might show up. After you caught your breath the two of you explored to make sure nobody else was coming. Then you sealed off the building so no one else could get in. You were sat on the couch with your head in your hands. It wasn’t the first time Dina had to save your ass, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Every time something like this happened, you felt terrible.
Like you weren’t good enough. You’d never been an amazing fighter like she was, you were good sure. But that’s it, just good. Meanwhile Dina was fucking phenomenal. Dina pulled away from you with a small smile and motioned for you to go sit on the couch. You did so and spent the duration of your patrol feeling guilty. She hadn’t picked up on your mood change, which was expected since you’d come to be good at hiding it. It was time to leave and you let Dina fill out the patrol notes, after that was done with the two of you got onto the horse and made your way back to Jackson.
Once you returned, Dina got the horse into the stables and had another conversation with Jack. You stood and watched as they conversed, she seemed to be more harsh towards him this time. Not as polite as usual. You wondered if it had something to do with what you said earlier, and it probably did. After she finished speaking to him, she turned around to walk you home. But you were already gone. Your house was really close by so it didn’t take you long to get there. Once you had, you started to get unready from patrol then headed upstairs. You’d just been setting out your things to shower when there was a knock at your door.
With a sigh, you walked downstairs and answered it. And who else would it be, it was Dina of course. Coming by to check on you.
“Hi, I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” She smiled brightly at you.
“Uh, fine. Why?” You chuckled, holding onto the door as you crossed your other arm over your stomach.
“You seemed pretty shaken up and I don’t know- I’m your best friend I can tell when somethings up.” She tilted her head with a shrug.
“Look I’m fine, it’s-“ for a moment you thought about opening up about your insecurities, but you didn’t, “it’s nothing, ok?” you sighed, hoping she won’t continue to pry.
“Well, I don’t believe you, but I’ll leave it alone for now. You wanna go out, do something fun?” Dina asks with a smirk.
“I was going to shower, but maybe after?” You squinted and she nodded.
After that you let her inside and told her to just make herself at home. While she did so you headed back upstairs and into your bathroom. Your clothes and towel were set out on the counter, all nice and ready. You turned on the water and waited while it warmed up, then you got in and did what you usually do. Your shower was shorter than usual since you were trying to rush because Dina wanted to go out. You used a hair dryer so you wouldn’t look like a mess then went into your room to put sneakers on.
Dina smiled as you returned downstairs, all ready to go. She said there was some party going on at one of her friend’s places. It sounded like fun, so you walked beside her as she led the way there. The both of you arrived and as you walked in you watched Dina greet people she knew with hugs and smiles. You always admired how she was so affectionate with her friends like that. She offered to get you drinks and you accepted, making your way to the living room.
Dina returned shortly with your drinks, standing next to you then taking your hand to go and converse with some people she knew. One of them being Ellie, who you knew as well. You weren’t as close to her as Dina was, but you two got along. As you watched the way Dina talked to Ellie, you thought maybe Ellie was who Dina liked. It wasn’t a crazy thought by any means, they had known each other for a long time and there was no doubt that they were close. Maybe you were her best friend, but then what was Ellie?
The party continued and everyone was enjoying themselves, as well as getting rather drunk. You were just tipsy, as you weren’t in the mood for a ragging hangover tomorrow morning. You stood by yourself while you watched as Ellie and Dina shared a joint. There was no denying they looked like more than friends. You sighed as you set your drink down somewhere, then went to the bathroom. You didn’t really have to go so you just washed your hands then stayed there for a few minutes.
Once you exited the restroom, Dina was outside waiting for you. You gave her the best fake smile you could, but she saw right through you. Just like she said earlier, she was your best friend, she knew when something was up.
“What’s on your mind?” She asked, crossing her arms and giving you a smug smile.
“Do you… like Ellie?” you asked, looking at her as you raised your eyebrows in question.
“Ellie?” She burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world, “oh my god, no! I don’t like Ellie..” She sighed.
“Oh, ok.” You chuckled.
“Y/n you are one of the most oblivious people I have ever met. Come here, I have a secret” She giggled, waiting until you leaned closer to hear and her lips were right at the shell of your ear “I like you, you idiot.”
She pulled away with a smile and you were blushing deep as you giggled. You were pretty surprised at her confession, but she was clearly drunk. That didn’t matter though, because she liked you. And she said she liked you. Dina rested her hands on your shoulders as she swayed to the sound of the music. You smiled in admiration as you rested your hands on her waist, biting your lip slightly as you watched her.
Dina seemed to be unable to help herself as she leans her body into yours. You feel her chest press against your own, causing your breath to hitch as your grip on her waist tightened. Slowly, she began to kiss at your neck. You let out a sigh as your head fell back with pleasure, Dina laughed at the effect she had on you. But, you came to your senses. She was drunk, you weren’t as drunk, but you were a couple drinks in.
“Take me home..” She whispers against your neck, her voice was needy and her warm lips were on your neck again in seconds.
“Dina.. no. You’re drunk, come on. I’ll take you home but just to make sure you get there safe.” You sighed as you pushed her away from you, keeping a safe distance.
Dina pouts grumpily and sighs. She mutters an angry fine then leans on you as you walk her home. It’s not exactly easy to deal with a drunk Dina as you’ve come to learn, but you managed. You helped her up to bed, turning away while she changed shamelessly because you were already uncomfortable enough. Finally she’s in bed and of course asking you to join her. You decline, sleeping on the floor instead to avoid anything you might regret in the morning.
The next morning you wake up to the sound of Dina vomiting in her bathroom. With a sigh at your headache, you rush to sit by her side and hold her hair back. You breathe through your mouth as you hold her hair in a makeshift ponytail and rub her back soothingly. She groans, flushing the toilet after she’d done and resting her head on the toilet seat. You grimace at this, lifting her head with your hand.
“Come on Dina, that’s gross.” You look at her as she blinks slowly, eventually just keeping her eyes closed.
“I know, I don’t care. What happened last night?” She asks, rubbing at her eyes.
“Well you drank like a lot, uhh you smoked a joint with Ellie and then I took you home.” You left out the most exciting part of the night, hoping she wouldn’t remember.
“Oh shit, yeah! You thought I liked her, man that was-“ she stopped and her eyes opened wide as her mouth fell agape and she stared at you, “oh my god..” she spoke quietly, her hand coming to cover her mouth.
Obviously, she remembered the secret she shared with you last night. Immediately she stood and walked away from you and into her room, where she started to pace. You followed and watched her as you sat on the edge of her bed.
“Dina, it’s ok, seriously!” You tried to convince her, but she wouldn’t buy it.
“No, no it’s fucking not! I-I ruined everything. We’ve- we’ve just been friends for so long and I care about you so much. My god how am I so stupid, I can’t believe I told you. I’m sorry. I’m just sorry. I don’t wanna lose you and I totally understand if you don’t feel the s-“ her words were cut off as you stood and pressed your lips to hers.
It wasn’t a great kiss, she tasted faintly of her liquor from the night before and a bit sour. Dina sighed into the kiss, her hands coming to rest on the back of your neck. You smiled, your hands coming to rest on her lower back. Your forehead now rested against hers as you let out a small laugh, she was just smiling so big and moved her hands to hold your face.
“That’s so gross, I was just sick.” She chuckles.
“I don’t care. Dina, of course I like you too.” You smiled.
You looked forward to what your relationship would come to next.
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The Winter Sun (2)
2. No man's land
MASTERLIST
Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader
Warnings: Death of characters, cursing, medieval and asoif customs, bullying, arrasment, kiss stealing, incest (c’mon is HotD), minor on minor violence, minors engaging in sexual activities, minors drinking wine, might miss some warnings
Wordcount: 3.3k
Notes: I’m running out of ideas for meet-cutes between Cregan and reader! haha and reasons for poor Cregan to travel two whole ass months to be in King’s landing. Anyways I want to say that in the White Dragon I was a stickler for the timelines and history… but here? nah, forget it! My story, my timeline, my rulezzzzz
Turns out Aemond didn’t take well to be told to fuck off
Your scalp still burned because of how hard he pulled your hair. You actually cried, he made you cry. You had never cried because of his teasing and bullying before, but now? you were tired of it, tired and angry.
When you turned around and he still had your silver braid locked in his hand, and he saw your tears, he froze. He fucking froze on his place. He released you almost immediately, and you couldn’t take it anymore and you slapped him across the face as hard as you could, as hard his face turned to the side.
“Don’t ever touch me again!”, you threatened, and turned to leave.
As you were leaving the hallway, Steffon Mangold, a King’s guard sworn to you, appeared
“Princess, i’m very sorry, I lost you”
“I was hiding Ser, don’t feel bad”, you explained, sniffing, you didn’t want him to see you
“You are crying Princess”, he muttered sadly
“I’m very sorry”, you said
“You don’t have to be sorry, next time, I will tell him to stop, I will stop him”
“It’s fine”, you interrupted him, with a shy smile, “Tell me, how is your younger sister?”. you changed the subject
“The medicine the maester gave her thanks to you, it really helped her”
“I’m so glad”, you cheered, recuperating your normal, happy self, “could you escort me, I need to dress for tonight”
“Of course princess”
It was almost like a game, to watch all those lords and ladies play “the young wolf”, to have a moment alone with him, they all wanted him for themselves, for their daughters, Cregan Stark was beginning to be the most eligible bachelor of the seven Kingdoms.
And he did not seem happy about it.
You hid behind the columns of the side of the Throne room while you watched the lords of court hoping to have a moment alone with the infamous Cregan Stark. He should be happy shouldn’t he? but he seemed miserable.
All the ladies blushed when he passed by their side, and it was almost chemical to see the different “tactics” each one tried to gain his attention, some would swoon, others would smile at him, or fan themselves, and other pretended they didn’t even see him while they flipped their long lustrous hairs
But nothing ever worked
The very next day, at the very same hour, you found yourself reading in your tree, and he would find himself underneath it.
“No luck?”, you asked, amused
“I’m starting to think this was a mistake, little dragon”
“Why would that be, mean wolf?”
“Mean?”, he asked, amused
“Why was it a mistake?”, you asked again
“This is some sort of circus”, he muttered
“I’m very sorry the ladies of the south do not please you, M’lord”, you mocked
“That is not it”, he mocked back, “it’s just… sad”, he said
“You will find the one mean wolf, south of the Neck”
“What did the boy have to say to you about yesterday?”, he asked, changing the subject
“I don’t know, I told him to fuck off”, you giggled, and he chuckled, “but I can’t scape him forever, is not that I could leave”, you whispered
“Do you miss your father?”, he asked
“Did you know him?”, you asked
“Briefly”, he muttered, “he helped me when my father died, he counseled me when my uncle tried to take Winterfell away from me”, he said carefully
“Oh”
“He was a good man, and I’m sorry he is gone”, he said firmly
“Thank you, My Lord I do miss him”, there was a comfortable silence, as you played with the pages of your book mindlessly, and again, it fell from your lap, right by his side. You gasped, it was your favorite book, about dragons and their Targaryen riders, starting with Aerion and Karnax, the first ever dragon and rider bonded, and through old Valyria. You had read it thousands of times
“My book!”
“Ups sorry, second time’s the charm, it’s mine now”, he said, picking it up and taking it with him
“No!”, you jumped from the tree, but he was already walking away.
“I’ll give it back the next time we see each other”, he said with a shy smile, and then he turned and left. Under your amused gaze.
Turns out you were right.
After a week of pitiful courting, and chasing, and blushes and rejections, a light showed the way for Cregan Stark
And that light was Alysanne Blackwood.
When she showed up at court all the other ladies gave up, she was some sort of legend, she was feisty, beautiful, and brave, they say she hunted with bow and arrow and had the precision of an eagle in the hunt, and she rode horses as well, she was tall and lean, and had beautiful long curly hair.
The game was pretty much won.
And just like that, Cregan left court with a fiery betrothed. And you were happy for him, happy because when you arrived at your chambers the night he had left, you found a surprise, a book about tales and legends of the North. Inside, it read, “property of the library of Winterfell”, and you smiled widely.
126 AC. Reader is 16 years old
It had been three more years until you even heard of Cregan Stark, apparently, he was a widower again. Alyssane has passed from a fever, and he was started to be known as “the lone wolf”
You lowered your gaze when you heard Uncle Viserys speaking about it, your uncle had also got a fever which he never recovered from. He was sicker by the day, and the maesters had started to exchange concerned looks. The worst part is that everybody knows, the court has once again grown grim.
You would have thought that cousin Rhaenyra would have shown her face, but she didn’t, not until now, not until… The King was bed-bound and Lord Corlys Velaryon suffered from a fatal wound.
So Rhaenyra was summoned to court to discuss who would inherit Driftmark, her son who everybody called a bastard, or… Vaemond Velaryon, Corlys brother.
You were watching Aemond train, with Criston Cole in the courtyard, when the Velaryon entered the game field, they wasted no time in spotting you walking towards you with smiles on their faces, mocking smiles, you caressed the idea in your mind of turning around and running away, but you couldn’t do that, you were now a woman grown.
“Dear aunt, how’ve you grown”, admired Jacaerys, and you only rolled your eyes. He had grown also, he was a young man now, you would even consider him handsome, if he wasn’t such a prick.
“Nice to see you again nephew”, you muttered softly, and smiled at them both, they looked back at you without shame, you were an adult now, a woman grown. Nothing to be ashamed of, but the change was obvious between all of you
“I haven’t seen you since…”
“Driftmark”, you answered, “if you excuse me, nephews, I have a sewing class”, dragonshit, you didn’t, but you ran away either way
“Nephews, have you come to train, or to stare at another man’s things?”, Asked Aemond.
To Aemond, you were his, his thing, his property, his to do as he pleased.
He enjoyed watching you squirm on his grasp, he enjoyed your scared eyes, but above all else, he enjoyed your nervousness around him, he knew that you weren’t oblivious to his advances, you liked to play with him, that is what he thought about you. Three years ago he changed his tactic, he didn't want your tears, he wanted your nervousness, your blushes, your gasps.
So instead of shoving you he started grabbing you, instead of pulling your hair he began to gift you things, things he knew you’d like, books, trinkets bought in the streets of King’s Landing, and flowers. But instead of bringing you joy, these gifts brought you fear. You did not want him, nor his attention, you’d wish you’d disappear to him.
He had never spoken a kind word to you in his life, and now he was giving you presents?
No.
You had designed your life to avoid him, your classes, your teaching with the septas, your time in the dragonpit, everything was made to avoid him, and it had worked to perfection so far.
But as you read in the God’s wood, you felt watched, and when you raised your eyes you saw Daemon Targaryen on the flesh, the Rogue Prince
Your uncle
He was a stranger to you, he had never even spoken to you, every time you saw him, he would look away, you didn’t know why, you didn’t know it hurt him physically to look at you because it was like looking at his brother come again, and he missed him. But you never knew that.
He was looking straight at you and you became so nervous you knew no better than to wave awkwardly at him, he only smirked, and left you alone again.
Weird ass family you were born yourself into.
Court turned sour the day of the hearings, you were instructed, passive-aggressively, you needed to be there, and since you had more acquaintances amongst your cousins that is where you stood. Alicent had suggested you dress in green, but you dismissed her “suggestion”, wearing pink instead, a neutral color, far from any houses.
And you felt eyes on you, you looked across the room and there he was again, Daemon, this time, he nudged Jacaerys, and they both looked at you, and you moved uncomfortably. You had been living in this court and inside this family for six years, why did you still feel like an outsider? Why did you feel like you didn’t belong?
Why the dark comments about bastarcy, the angry looks, the tension, the violence
You didn’t understand it. Nor the need for all of it
Because of the ugly chair?
No
Absolute power.
When Vaemond called Rhaenyra a whore, and your nephews bastards, ande Daemon took his head… you left the throne room, disgusted by the blood and the brains, you couldn’t handle it, you didn’t have the stomach for it
Instead you decided to lurk the hallways, this audience had stopped all life in the castle anyways, no lessons or classes were being held today.
You knew this night the King had invited you to a dinner, hosted to honor Rhaenyra’s visit, and he wanted to gather all of his family, and you thought it was sweet. As you were walking towards the private dining room of the Royal chambers, you accidentally eavesdropped a conversation you shouldn’t have.
“Marrying Jace with Baela is a mistake”, said Daemon
“She is your daughter, and he is my son”, fought Rhaenyra
“Aegon’s daughter…”, he said, “is a better match”
“She holds no real title, no lands…”
“She is his daughter”, he continued, “Aegon’s only child”
“Daemon…”
“You want the greens to have her?”, you wanted to hear no more, and you kept walking.
You wanted nobody to have you, you were not a thing to have, you were a girl of your own
When you arrived at the dining hall, something happened that had never happened before, both Aemond and Jacaerys wanted you to sit among them, and you looked around uncomfortably, wanting to sit everywhere but near them, but that wasn’t possible, you ended up sitting right in the middle of them both.
“So tell me aunt, what have you been up to these past years?”, started Jace, and you smiled fakely
“Well, I've been reading a lot”, you muttered, hiding your disgust in a cup of wine, “and riding Vhaelar”
“Remember when we used to mock you because we thought Vhaelar wasn’t real?”, he giggled, like it was the best time of your life
“I remember vividly”, you answered bitterly, and Aemond right by your side chuckled
“What is so funny uncle?”, asked Jacaerys, already tired of him
“That you think that was some sort of fond memory for her”, he mocked
“Well, we were children and we were bonding…”
“I wouldn't call it that”, said Aemond, and they started passively-aggressively attacking each other all through dinner, on top of that you felt Daemon’s gaze over you again, as he was watching, amused, the interaction between your cousin and nephew
They couldn’t possibly be attacking each other because of you, couldn’t they?
And to make it better, the toasts begin.
First it was Jace, toasting to the fond memories of your youth, and Aemond mumbling against his cup that truly it wasn’t, and then Rhaenyra and Alicent sharing toasts as well, that was kind of nice, so you smiled contently, but as the night went trough, Aemond felt it was time for his own toast
“A last tribute”, he said, raising his cup, “to the health of my nephews, each of them handsome, wise… Strong”
And all hell break loose
“I dare you to say that again”, said Jacaerys, raising from the table, so did Luke
Alicent tried to stop Aemond, but to no avail, he released himself from her grasp, while facing Jacaerys and you almost got caught on the cross fire.
Jace punched Aemond, but he barely moved. You knew how good he was fighting, a punch like that was not going to move him. Aemond only smiled and with a single hand pushed Jacaerys and send him flying on his ass to the ground
And Rhaenyra sent you all to your rooms, and you obliged, even if she wasn’t speaking to you directly.
But as you were walking towards your chamber, Aemond, who had left the room before everyone else, catch up to you
“(Y/N)”, he greeted firmly
“Aemond, the hour is late”, you said tiredly, “you should rest”
“Are you going to go find Jacaerys?”, he asked
“Why would I?”, he grabbed you by your wrist, stopping you, “Aemond”
“You like that bastard more than me?”, he mocked, “me?”
“No!”, you yelped
“Do you?”, he shook you, making you gasp
“No!”, he pushed you against the wall and trapped you with his own body.
“You are mine”, he growled, and you shook your head, “not that bastard’s”
“No! release me!”, you fought with all your might, but Aemond was strong, years and years of training.
He quieted your pleas with his mouth, kissing you. You still shook against him, but he seemed determined, so he tried to immobilize you, grabbing both your wrist with one of his big hands and the other.
He grabbed your hip, roughly, pressing you against the stone. You whimpered when he finally released your mouth.
Your first kiss, stolen.
You whimpered again… tears threatening to come out
“Prince Aemond”, you looked at the end of the hall, to see Ser Steffon there, “the princess asked for release”, he warned, Aemond only chuckled, and released you
“I expect you in my room later”, he said firmly, “or I’ll go to you”
Aemond left, and so did you
“I have to leave”, you cried, “really”, he only nodded. Steffon accompanied you to your room to get things, and then, he escorted you to the Dragonpit.
“People at your old home will be waiting for you”, he whispered as you were walking by his side through the streets of King’s Landing, “you will be safe there, tomorrow, I’ll explain everything to the King and Queen”
“They never believe Aemond grabbed me like that”, you whispered
“So I’ll say you just left for your home”, he said, and you nodded.
And as Rhaenyra departed at the late hours towards Dragonstone again, you found Vhaelar.
Your father’s dragon.
“Hey sweet girl”, you greeted, she cooed at you from her place in the pit, watching you with emotion in her deep golden eyes. “care for a ride?”
She didn’t like to be trapped in the Pit, when you lived with your father she used to hide in caves imbedded in cliffs near the castle, not here, all crowded with other dragons.
You guided her outside, you brought a small bag with a couple of dresses and you were wearing your riding gear. You couldn’t stay here any longer, there is so much Steffon could do to keep Aemond at bay, and your aunt? she won’t do anything to protect you, not even your cousin.
So you rode your dragon in the middle of the night, back to the place your father raised you in, a castle near Runestone.
People that still lived in the castle received you with open arms and in their nightgowns, surprised but happy
“We were waiting for you little princess”, many would say, as they lead you to your childhood bedroom.
Your uncle the King had kept the place running, paying the servants and letting them stay, it was his way of honoring your late father, a brother he loved so much. He had hopes one day that you would come here with your husband, and live it once again.
Even Vhaelar seemed happy to be here, flying over the cliffs you hear her roar happily, you watched her through the window and you saw her white-silvery scales shining under the moonlight.
When you were a girl you used to think she came from the moon itself, and your father, giggling, would never correct you.
You know you couldn’t ran away for ever, the King was going to call you back to King’s Landing, what were you going to do then?, but you had turned sixteen a couple of weeks ago, you were technically of age, you could, demand to stay here.
You were right, a week later a letter arrived, from the King himself, in it he demanded you return to King’s Landing, promising you he was going to control Aemond, and let you come back to your home when you turned eight and ten.
Additional to that, you received a letter from the Queen, who promised Aemond was not going to bother you ever again.
You took one more week to reply, and ended up spending one whole moon in your castle, before you willingly returned to King’s Landing. Your home was your home, but you were the only one living in it, you didn’t like to be alone.
When you came home, Aemond greeted you politely, and then backed away, he still gave you little presents, but that was it, he never touched you again.
But The rumors you heard and what Joanna told you… they were going to betrothed you to him, but the King wouldn’t hear of it, your clock was ticking, to find your own match before it was too late and when your Uncle was gone they were going to make you marry him.
In the far North, Cregan was looking down the hall and its people. His sister Sara by his side, smiling reassuringly up at him.
It had been one year after the death of Alyssane, and all the lords had gathered to hear their concerns.
He was twenty eight, unmarried, without heirs, a widower of not only one, but two wifes
“If I fail to produce an heir, and perish before”, he said firmly, “the seat of Winterfell shall pass to my younger cousin Bran”, he announced, and the lords showed their disappointment, “this is my decision”, and he left the hall, still hearing the complaints and the rushed voices of the lords and ladies of the North.
Sara tried to run to catch up him, she eventually did
“You are not marrying again?”, she asked
“What is the point?”, he asked roughly, “I found love twice and the gods did not seemed me worthy enough to keep it”
“That is not it!”, she said hastily, “Cregan… you will find love again”
“Doubt it”
“What about my dreams? my visions?”, she said
“Sara, unless a beautiful maid comes flying up here, I swear, I’m not looking for a wife again”, he said finally, and kept walking.
Sara just smiled, content.
Taglist! ❤️
@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader
#misguidedwinter#cregan#cregan x reader#cregan stark#aemond targaryen#hbo house of the dragon#house of the dragon#house targaryen#house stark#targaryen!oc#targaryen!reader
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Already Won Me Over Sneak Peak
A Follow Up 'Love Me Or Just Let Me Go'
~~
~~
Sorry for the delay! I meant to post this yesterday, but I got real fuckin' picky about certain things, because I'm ✨annoying✨ ANYWAY, this is just a snippet of what's to come, and I hope you all enjoy it! You all get heartbreaking smut, cause tomorrow is Valentine's Day!! 🙃🙃
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Heartbreak, Arguing, Violence, Angst, Uhh...I think that's it for now.
I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this kind of behavior or relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.
~~
“We need to get in and out of your apartment. Only grab what’s important,” he tells you softly as he turns on the car.
“Yeah,” you agree softly.
That was the extent of the conversation you two had.
You’ve never had such a quiet car ride with Jonathan, and you hate it. You hate this. Besides the fact that almost everyone you know and love has been attacked tonight, and you feel like it’s your fault, you also don’t know what the fuck to do about you and Jonathan. After everything that was said tonight, all of the tears and begging, he still can’t just fucking say it. You can’t help but grow tired of all of this shit. Yeah, it sucks that he feels like shit, but you’re not doing this to him.
He’s doing it to the both of you.
“Jonathan,” you sigh as he gets out of the car along with you, “I can go up on my-”
“You can get as far away from me as you want when we get home. For now, I’m coming up with you. I don’t want to argue anymore-”
“Fine, lets just get it over with,” you mutter, quickly making your way inside, Jonathan following behind you with a low groan as he sighs.
Sigh, sigh, sigh. Yeah well, this part isn’t on you.
“Is there anything I shouldn’t bring?” you question, unlocking your door.
“You only need to bring-”
“Welcome home,” a man with a thick accent greets as soon as you open your door, his fist already traveling towards your face, but you duck just in time.
“I haven’t had a bad enough day?!” you growl, head butting the much larger man in the chest, forcing him inside.
“I love a bitch who can fight,” the man laughs darkly, pushing you aside.
“Get out of my HOUSE!” you scream, picking up the vase of flowers Jonathan bought you hours ago and throwing them at the man, missing him by millimeters.
“This is barely a shoe box,” the man laughs, pulling out his revolver.
“Well, that’s not very nice, now is it?” Jonathan growls, grabbing one of the bar stools and smashing the man over the back of his head with it.
That has you freezing on the spot. You’ve never seen Jonathan’s violence, and you’re not sure how you feel about it now that you have.
“You break into her home,” Jonathan continues roughly, still beating the man with stool as it creaks and cracks, “try to hurt her, and then insult her home?! Where are your manners, Ivan?! HUH?!” he roars, slamming the wooden stool against the countertop, breaking off one of its legs. “Who else has been running around Gotham doing Boris’ dirty work?! Y/N’s Mom, her Uncle, her friends?! Who did it?!”
You glance over and see that the door is still open; you run to close it, knowing that it’s bound to get bloodier and more violent.
“I asked you a fucking question!” Jonathan broods, hitting the man with the broken stool leg.
“Boris warned you,” the man coughs out while trying to fend off Jonathan, wildly flailing his arms as he rolls side to side on the floor like a broken metronome.
“And I warned Boris! The fuck ups you all make are on you! It’s not my fucking job to fix it! You go after someone I care about and you think there won’t be any fucking repercussions?! I warned all of you and now look!”
“Dr. Crane-”
“Dr. Crane isn’t in right now!” he snarls, striking the guy across the face again before tossing the the bloody stool leg aside. “Now, apologize to the woman.” The man spits out a tooth, groaning to himself.
“Boris just wants-”
“APOLOGIZE!” Jonathan roars.
“I’m-I’m sorry, Ma’am,” the man sobs at you.
“Good boy,” Jonathan praises as he pulls out his .45. “I think I’ll make you the first casualty in Boris’ army.”
“Dr. Crane-” his words feebly teeter from his bleeding mouth.
You cover your mouth as you yelp at the steely explosive bang from the gun shot and take a step back. This day is really taking a toll on you.
He stands up straight, breathing heavy, before turning to look at you. His hair is wild, half of his face is splattered with blood. His eyes are still and wild. You’re not sure how to feel about it, but you can’t help the arousal pooling between your legs at his feral state in the soft glow of the night.
“Pack while I run through his pockets,” he tells you after a moment, pushing back his messy hair.
“You should shower,” you tell him weakly, looking from him to Ivan’s lifeless body.
“Y/N-”
“You have clothes here. You walking out there covered in his blood is a bad look. You should shower and I’ll call the cops-”
“Don’t. I’ll take care of it,” he interrupts, tone still authoritative as he tries to calm down. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No, no, I’m fine. I promise,” you answer calmly as a soft tapping on your door has you jumping.
“Y/N? Are you okay dear?” your elderly neighbor, Miss Francine, asks softly, and a soft chuckle leaves your mouth before you can stop it.
Are you okay? That’s laughable right now.
“I’m alright, Miss Francine. You need to get back to your room, it’s not safe in the hallway at this hour.”
“Do you need me to call someone? I’m not afraid of these thugs!” she says defiantly, and you laugh to yourself softly.
You love her so much.
“No no, I have someone here with me. I’m safe, I promise.”
“Alright dear. Good night,” she calls softly and you hear her footsteps retreating, soon followed by her door opening and closing.
“Pack,” Jonathan repeats sternly.
“Shower,” you tell him softly, giving Ivan’s dead body one last look before going into your room.
You look around and you can’t decide where to begin. Your mind can’t and won’t slow down. You’ve just seen Jonathan murder someone, and he murdered that person for you. How the fuck is it easier for him to murder someone than fucking admitting that he loves someone? Even when he was beating the man to death, all he could say was, ‘someone I care about’.
Yeah, that’s the last thing you should be thinking about right now, but if there’s ever a time for an accidental ‘I love you’, that would be it. Damn, maybe there is a part of you that’s a self absorbed little shit, but you’re not about to feel ashamed about it. Not after all that’s happened tonight.
You hear the shower turn on, and your mind is instantly reminded of something else.
No matter what he can or won’t say, he still killed someone. He killed them without hesitation and he did it for you. In that moment, all that mattered was keeping you safe, and he had no thought for his self care at all. His only focus was you and keeping you safe.
Plus, truth be told, him looking so unhinged and wild? A total turn on for you that you weren’t expecting at all.
No, none of this is ideal and you still don’t know what the hell you’re gonna do about the both of you, but you know that you’re lonely and in pain. There’s only one person you want right now, and he’s the last person you should want right now.
God damn him for making you love him so damn much.
You slowly take off your dress and strapless bra, at war with yourself about whether or not you should go through with this, but the part of you that needs a release wins. Sure, you could have a drink or a smoke, but it won’t be enough. Besides, it’s not like you won’t be drinking till you’re numb in the face for the next few weeks anyways. No, it’s not the best solution, but you’re done trying to be smart and logical for the moment. You’ve been at war with yourself since all of this started, and you’re just so damn tired of thinking.
You just want to feel something other than sadness and pain.
“Y/N, you should be...Y/N,” Jonathan trails off as you get in the shower with him.
“I can pack after,” you tell him softly, looking him over, fingers lightly tracing over his faded scars. “You didn’t have to attack that man-”
“I wasn’t gonna let him hurt you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, but I want-need to take care of you.”
“Why?”
“Because I care about you,” he huffs, and you can hear him at war with himself.
Well, fuck it. If he isn’t gonna say it, you will. Again.
“I love you-”
“Sweetheart-”
“I love you, Jonathan. I don’t care if you don’t wanna hear it, I don’t care if you don’t think you deserve it, and I don’t care if you don’t want me to say it. It’s a fucking fact. I love you and I’ve never loved anyone this much, and I know I never will again, no matter what happens. I am so painfully in love with you, Jonathan Crane. You may be afraid of your feelings, but I’m not afraid of mine,” you tell him without fear or trepidation in your heart.
If this is the end of the both of you, you may as well lay all your cards on the table.
“Y/N...,” he sobs, looking away from you, and your heart breaks.
He truly is broken by all of this.
You gently grab his face and turn it towards you, “You tell me you care about me? Then show me. Show me just how much you care,” you beg softly, tears in your eyes.
Just like that, he’s gone for you.
He’s crashing his lips into yours as he presses you against the wet shower tiles, your back squishing against it. It feels like Heaven. Moaning into the kiss, you grind yourself against him while his hands travel down your sides softly; almost as if he’s afraid to touch you, as if he feels like he doesn’t deserve it.
“Show me, Jonathan,” you breathe against his lips, begging him to give you a reason to fight for more. “Show me how much you care. Show me how much I mean to you.”
This time, he grips your thighs and hoists you up, no hesitation present as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist while he trails kisses down your neck, desperate to cover every inch of you in them.
“Dr. Crane,” you whimper, running your fingers through his hair as one of his hands starts massaging one of your breasts.
“No...please don’t...call me by my name, I need to hear you say it,” he cries shamefully.
At least you can believe it’s more than a filthy hook up now.
“Jonathan...Jonathan I need to feel you,” you pant, eyes clenching shut at the feel of his fingers kneading your nipple between his fingertips. “I need you!” “I don’t deserve you,” he groans, slowly sliding you down on him.
“Shit!” you cry, still not used to the way he so easily pulls you apart.
“I’m so sorry,” he husks, slowly moving within you, kissing along your neck, “I ruined everything and I’m sorry!”
“Just wanna be with you right now. Tired...tired of thinking,” you moan, focusing your attention back on him, which was extremely hard since he kept- “OH MY GOD! That’s the...fuck! Right there, don’t stop!”
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he marvels, his grip on you getting tighter as he helps you chase your release.
“I love you,” you sigh, feeling your core tightening.
“Y/N-”
“I love you,” you repeat, not relenting because of his guilt for his past.
It’s not like you ever meant to fall in love, or that you even wanted to you, but you did. For all your planning, and hoping for it to be a one time thing, it hasn’t panned out that way at all.
“God, you’re clenching me so fucking tight, sweetheart,” he grunts, his movements becoming quicker as you dig your nails into his shoulders, “feels so good being inside of you...getting lost in you.”
“Fuck! Jonathan!”
“Never knew someone could ever love me like you do,” he continues with a breathless pant, changing his angle just a bit to hit that spot deep within you.
“Oh fuck!”
“Never knew how much I needed to be loved by you!”
“Jonathan...I can’t...I can’t...oh shit!”
“C’mon baby! Give it to me! I wanna feel your love!”
“YES!” you cry out, your release washing over you as you tighten your legs around Jonathan for fear of falling if you don’t.
The bastard may have broken your heart, but he’s the closest you’ll ever get to Heaven.
“You okay, baby?” he asks softly, tenderly stoking your face .
All you can do is nod.
“Do you need more?”
Once again, all you can do is nod.
He’s quick to turn off the shower, keeping his hold on you tight as gets out of the shower. He walks you both to the bedroom, and your eyes land on Ivan’s dead body. God, of all the ways you thought this night was going to end, this wasn’t at all what you had in mind.
“I want you on your back,” you tell him as he goes to lay you down.
You can tell that you’ve caught him off guard. He does what you want nonetheless, and lays back on the bed, looking at you with eyes that are filled with adoration and guilt. Usually you’re not on top unless he puts you up there. That’s rare because he likes hearing the screams that leave your mouth when he fucks you hard from behind, or watch as the euphoria overtakes you when he gives you an orgasm.
You place your hands on his chest and start to ride him slowly, your hips grinding against him, mouth slightly agape at the feel of the new angle and how deep he is.
“Touch me, Jonathan,” you beg pathetically, starting to pick up your pace once you’ve adjusted to him. “I want to feel you everywhere I can.”
“Sweetheart-”
“Jonathan, please. I just need you right now,” you practically sob.
There’s a dead man laying in your living room. Your best friend may never walk again. Someone tried to kill your Mother. Your ‘Uncle’ is laid up in the hospital and his wife has been killed. The man responsible for turning your life upside down in the best and worst ways during all this can’t even tell you that he loves you.
If all you can have is temporary bliss that only he can provide, then you’ll take it and beg for him to show you the things he’s ashamed to show. Besides, who knows when you two will have each other like this again.
If ever.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he groans, his hands slowly traveling up your torso.
“You think so?” you question, your damp hair falling in front of your face as you look down at him, biting your bottom lip in a weak attempt to quiet your moans as he starts massaging your breasts.
No, having sex on your bed soaking wet probably isn’t the best idea, but it’s not like you’ll be sleeping in it for a while.
“Fuck yeah...GOD!” he groans as you roll your hips against his.
“Shit!”
“Gotta have you on top of me more often,” he husks, sitting up and wrapping his arms around you, “I love watching you take whatever you want from me. You can take whatever you need, baby. You can always take what you need from me,” he promises as he grips your ass.
“Oh fuck!”
“Bring yourself on my cock like the good girl you are, baby. I know you can fucking do it,” he encourages, licking his thumb before bringing it between the two of you, rubbing your most sensitive bud.
“Jonathan!”
“I know you wanna cum for me, baby. I know you wanna make a mess all over me, don’t you, baby?”
“Fuuu-yes!”
“Cause you’re my good girl?” “Jonathan!”
“Say it, baby. Tell me you’re my good girl!”
“Fuck yes!” you cry out, lulling your head back as you squirt hard, floating out of your own body for just a moment.
“My messy little princess,” he praises with a grunt.
In one swift move, you’re on your back and Jonathan is fucking into you relentlessly.
“Shit!”
“You’re always gonna be my girl, baby. I know I’m a mess right now, but I will fix this. I’ll make this right,” he promises, holding himself up as he cradles your face with the other hand.
Your eyes sting as you hold back tears at his words, because you honestly don’t know what the fuck to do. You don’t know what happens after all of this gets settled.
“I don’t fucking deserve you,” he pants as his movements become erratic, “but I need you. I need you so damn much, baby!”
“Too...it’s too much,” you sob as you feel that knot in your core tighten.
“Give it to me, give me everything,” he begs breathlessly, his grip on neck getting tighter.
“JONATHAN!” you scream out, tears spilling over from the pleasure coursing through your body and the pain in your heart as you squirt hard. One hand grips him and the other grips the bed sheets.
“My perfect princess,” he groans as he spills inside of you, his hand almost giving out.
As he rides out both of your highs, the room is filled with nothing but your silent sobs and heavy breathing between the both of you.
Not a word is said as he pulls out and you both start to get dressed. He’s first to exit as soon as he’s dressed, and you can only assume that he instantly goes to search through Ivan’s pockets. You take your time packing up what you deem necessary. You grab all of your photos, wanting to make sure that no one else gets hurt because of your...whatever with Jonathan. You pack up your laptop, Mr. Fin, the hideous ash tray Jonathan got you in Hawaii, a few books, some comfort clothes, and basic hair supplies. You give your room a once over, fighting back more tears, before making your way out to see Jonathan sitting at the kitchen island and drinking bourbon.
“Do you have everything?” he asks, not even looking in your direction as he swirls his drink around in the glass.
“Just have to grab makeup and hair products out of-”
“I can buy you more. It’s not important.”
“Then yes, I guess I have everything,” you snap, voice edging between anger and bitterness. “Do you have everything.” “Everything that I need,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his drink before putting it in the sink. “Lets go.”
You’re quick to grab the photo of your birthday party by the door on your way out, and shut the door behind you, walking past Jonathan in an attempt to get the elevator as fast as you can.
Your mind is racing and you just wanna lay down.
The entire elevator ride down, Jonathan is tapping his foot and fidgeting with his fingers. He’s mad at himself. You know that he thinks he revealed too much of himself to you, and that makes you even madder at him. He’s already broken your heart, what the hell does he think will happen if he’s actually sweet to you during intimacy? That you’ll go off and tell everyone in Gotham that he does, in fact, have a soul and a good heart?
It’s not like anyone would believe you anyway.
The second you two are back inside his house, you’re grabbing the things you left on the floor earlier, and racing up the steps. You’re more than happy to stay locked away in a room, but the only issue is that you don’t know any other room besides Jonathan’s.
“Just take my room,” he encourages softly as he makes his way up the steps.
“I can stay in another-”
“None of the other rooms have been slept in, in years. My room is the only room ready, and the only one I feel comfortable having you in.”
“I don’t want to be around you.”
“Lucky for you, I won’t be sleeping much.”
“When you do-”
“I know my house better than you. I’ll stay far away from you, just take my damn room,” he instructs before turning and racing back down the steps and disappearing around a corner.
You stick your tongue out in the direction he went before turning and making your way into his room, closing the door behind you. As you drop your bags, you look around and let out a deep breath.
Welcome to your new life for the next few weeks.
~~
#fanfic#fan fiction#fan fic#fanfiction#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane x you#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane fic#jonathan crane fanfic#scarecrow x reader#scarecrow x oc#cillian murphy character#cillian murphy characters#fan fic smut#fan fic writer#scarecrow dc#dc universe#dc comics#fanfic smut#jonathan crane
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Hi, I thought I should amend the ask I sent yesterday because I realised it might come across as a bit bitchy. The actual question was supposed to be if the fandom was actually right and it *was* uncommon for ladies of Lizzie's station to walk 3 miles. And in that case, are the other Bennet sisters also uncommonly good walkers for walking 2 miles outward and return trip to Meryton?
I cut out many parts of the initial ask because it got too long and sounded a bit braggy, since 3 miles is a normal, casual walk in my culture (although not through fields, but some of us do that too without any major problems). Sorry for any offence.
Anon, I have a full time job and your question was a bit confusing, that's why I hadn't answered yet. Asks usually take me a few days unless I know the answer. Also, for the metric people, 3 miles is about 4.8km. Anyway, to your question. Here is the lead up to the walk to Netherfield:
Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, determined to go to her, though the carriage was not to be had: and as she was no horsewoman, walking was her only alternative. She declared her resolution.
“How can you be so silly,” cried her mother, “as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there.”
“I shall be very fit to see Jane—which is all I want.”
“Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,” said her father, “to send for the horses?”
“No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing, when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.”
“I admire the activity of your benevolence,” observed Mary, “but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.”
“We will go as far as Meryton with you,” said Catherine and Lydia. Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off together.
We can see just from this discussion that what Elizabeth did, walking through the mud (dirt) three miles to Netherfield, wasn't normal. We are told right away that the carriage isn't available, indicating that this is the most proper mode of transport. Then we learn she can't ride a horse, which must be the second most proper. Then she decides to walk. Her father actually offers the carriage upon hearing this, reinforcing that the carriage is the most ration way to travel.
The problem seems to be more the state of her clothing and the impropriety of walking that far alone (mentioned by the Bingley sisters) than anything remarkable about the distance. I think the distance is only really interesting in that it shows her concern about Jane. I do think there is a slight importance in showing Elizabeth's vigorous health as opposed to Anne de Bourgh, but it's not some huge feat of strength.
It comes up a lot in the fandom because people stan Elizabeth Bennet and they like to talk about her moments. It can be a little overdone, I'm a little tired of hearing about how Henry Tilney knows muslins because it's talked about all the time, but honestly there is nothing wrong with people mentioning it.
I hope that answered your question. So no, the walk itself isn't remarkable, it's the other factors involved.
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there is an absolute drought of dark Smoker content so can I request a ticket with him for a Long Night of Museums?? Pretty please with a cherry on top 🙏♥️
💕💕💕 you're so right... Smoker, my love... Instead of taking some souvenirs home with you, you end up as one with that man 🤭
🎂nasty's 2024 birthday event 🎂
Your order:
1 x ticket to The Long Night of Museums with Smoker! (Adult only, exhibition might contain content such as stalking and kidnapping, proceed at your own risk.
Smoker is the type of man you only meet because his usual bar is directly next to your cheap little hotel - blue with smoke, wooden interior, two games of darts and the TV always tuned into some type of sports game and him sitting right by the barkeep, nipping at his beer for two whole hours. You only stumble in on your first night because you really, really want a beer after a long, exhausting day of traveling. And instead of paying for that overpriced crap they offer in the hotel lobby that you’d have to down all on your own in your hotel room, you’d rather spend an hour with total strangers who smoke one cigarette for every word they speak. It’s convenient, the neon sign hanging by the door tells you it’s cheap and not too packed - and that’s all you need right now. What you don’t expect is two meters of bulk and cigars waiting right by the bar, tacky Hawaiian shirt inappropriately open for the spring weather. He’s intimidating, blocking your path to a cheap stout - but you’re grown and in a strange city. You figure you’ll never see him again anyway, so you swallow that little tickle of nervousness and order a pint of whatever they have on tab. And, despite your flighty stomach, you stay right by the bar - booths are for multiple people, not for out-of-towners who can’t handle the places they wander into. It goes pretty well, all things considered. Aside from an initial greeting, he doesn’t even look your way, too busy grumbling into his own pint and watching whatever match is on up on the ancient screen. It’s bearable enough that you come back the next day - a long, surprisingly hot day of sightseeing and dragging your feet through pedestrian areas has you thirsty for another beer and you’re yet again too tired to wander any further than your hotel room. The comfort of being able to simply fall into your bed after getting a little bit of a buzz going trumps the pull of flashy bars and expensive cocktails. So you poke your head through the door of the dingy little pub again and, like he’s part of the inventory, two-cigars-hawaiian-shirt guy already sits pretty by the counter, in that very same spot as yesterday. You greet him with a little too much enthusiasm but get nothing more than a mumbled answer back.
The next day, you feel strangely watched on your trek through the city. It’s pretty obvious that you’re a tourist (the puzzled looks to your maps app might be a dead giveaway), still, there are dozens, if not hundreds of you at any given little park or museum or statue. It’s not like the locals aren’t used to people traipsing through the city center looking at everything as if they’re seeing color for the first time, no, the city is on every damn ‘top 10 must see’ lists that have been plaguing the internet for decades - but you simply can’t shake it. No matter how long you spend pouring over paintings at a gallery, no matter how slowly you take your lunch in an eclectic little bakery, it never stops. You all but flee to that shabby little bar in the evening, looking to seek cover among the many eyes of strangers once again. A little buzz and handful of potential witnesses (should anything unsavory happen) sound safer than staring at the flimsy lock on your hotel room’s door until you collapse from exhaustion. Or maybe you just want to shake off that nasty feeling of being followed with one too many beers right now - you can’t really decide. That night, two-cigars-hawaiian-shirt guy doesn’t sit by the bar when you enter. He comes in, almost dawdling, half an hour after you. You’re already halfway through your first pint and have no intention of stopping at just one when he sits himself down with so much heft right beside you, it actually makes you sputter. It almost feels like your stool shakes when he plops down and orders his own drink, absentmindedly biting his cigars. It takes you just another pint to actually talk to him. And a third one to realize that he’s stupid hot. Sure, you registered his sheer size two nights ago already, but he’s actually ruggedly handsome: well-groomed and tastefully gray in a rough way that reminds you of some sort of 80s action movie character. He doesn’t talk much. It doesn’t bother you in your slightly inebriated state; every question is met with only a short, almost bitten out answer but it’s all made up by the way his voice seems to crawl right underneath your skin, deep and gruff but irresistible and somewhat smooth. You joke and laugh and sway around enough for the two of you, feeling weirdly safe with this total stranger. Smoker, that’s his nickname, and you think it’s oh-so-fitting and funny in your haze. He seems to have taken a liking to you, too - because even though he grumbles all the way through it, he even tolerates a game of darts that you spectacularly lose. It’s a wonderful evening, you think, and it’s nice to properly socialize after two days of looking at dusty museums and flashy sights, and even better today, after you’ve been uneasy every waking minute. You’re happy and drunk and even gutsy enough to feel up the abs of that handsome stranger who supports your shaky legs to guide you to the hotel room, trying to get the most out of this little chance meeting.
At least until you wake up in an unfamiliar place the next morning, the wonderful, airy feeling of a fun night out replaced by sheer and utter dread. You can barely register that your hands and feet are tied together, that it’s not the alcohol making you feel nauseous but rather the position you seem to have spent the last couple hours in- because just a second later, Smoker’s face is all you see.
That gravely voice you found so charming yesterday suddenly makes your stomach bubble in raw fear as he tells you to stop fighting and that you’re better off with him, anyway - seeing as you’re way too weak on your own and he's been looking for a little spouse, anyway. And you'll do.
#birthday event 2024#/smoker#/one piece#yandere one piece#smoker x reader#one piece x reader#tw.kidnapping#tw.alcohol
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Some poor soul got hit by a train today, just before i arrived at the train station, so every train to and from london paddington was cancelled.
Then "new" trains showed up that were mega-routes so everyone could get to where they need. For example the Swansea and Carmarthen lines were combined, and a second train to bristol was boarded by almost everyone else because bristol has a lot of transfer options.
I boarded my train, left it after waiting fourty minutes, accidentally left my iphone plug in the socket because i forgot i wasnt using usb
Then i boarded my "new" train, realised what id done,
Went, wait a second, this train is on the same platform... reached down and found my plug
Anyway it's totally rammed in here and ive been travelling for 18 hours and awake for 22 hours on what was already poor sleep. I shouldve been home yesterday but my original flight was cancelled. I am very tired.
However i cant be too annoyed at these circumstances because 1. It's for a good reason and 2. everyone else here is also heavily inconvenienced and on some kind of adventure. Ive never seen such an oddly cheerful train full of people
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Paradise: Part Two
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.2k
Summary: Spencer finally meets your parents, but it doesn’t go as well as you thought it was going to go. Are you a bad girlfriend for letting your dad treat him that way, or is it completely out of your control?
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated
x
A small-town diner will have a lot of gossip that filters through, so it's the best place for information. You walk in with your two coworkers, and you're overwhelmed by the amount of people that are inside. This place is very busy for a place that's in the middle of nowhere.
"Be right with you," one of the waitresses says as she passes by you.
"It's not even lunchtime yet," Derek mutters to you as you three take a seat at the bar counter.
"The sign said people will travel for miles for Flo's Donuts," you shrug.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." The same waitress who passed you by is now behind the bar. Her name tag says her name is Betty. "Would you like a dozen to share?" You take out your badge and show it to her, and she realizes how serious this is. "Ooh. FBI."
"Ma'am, we're trying to trace the steps of a couple that may have been here a few days ago," Derek says.
"Darlin', I've waited on eighty-seven folks since we opened this morning. Somebody would have to come through here doing cartwheels on fire for me to remember."
"Would you take a look anyway, please?"
You take out the photos of the latest victims and show them to her.
"Huh! Well, I'll be. I do remember them."
"Were they doing cartwheels?"
"No, but I was. The lady left me a $10 tip for breakfast two days in a row. Nice couple. Are they in some kind of trouble?"
You don't want to give too much away, so you keep it sweet and short. Since the Gallens were here, then that means they were staying somewhere close by. Sherwood is a town that's on the east side of Lake Tahoe near the California state line. This area has over three hundred hotels, motels, and resorts. Penelope sent over every single phone number and address to everywhere the couple could have stayed.
Instead of going to three hundred businesses, you have to narrow down the list. Then, you'll be able to go door to door and show pictures of the Gallens in hope someone knows who they are. This process could take days or even weeks, but you don't have the manpower to make it go by faster.
At this point, what choice do you have?
It took all night to narrow down the list, so you had to pick this up the next morning. Everyone had been up late working on the list, so when you walk into the station the next morning, you see takeout containers everywhere.
"Morning JJ," you greet with a yawn.
"Sorry for the wake-up call."
"It's fine. I'm always tired," you wave her off.
"It looks like we've got a possible missing person," JJ says. "Ian and Abby Corbin were in Reno for the weekend. They were supposed to be home yesterday in San Luis Obispo. They could've driven right through Sherwood. They've already been missing a night. His mom's looking after their two kids."
"Call me when everybody gets here," Hotch says.
JJ turns to the table where all the take-out containers are, and she grimaces in disgust.
"What is this? Left-over Kung Pao chicken? That's disgusting." She picks up the containers and tosses them in the trash, and she notices the sheriff staring at her. "What?"
"The smell of Chinese food makes you sick, but you don't even flinch when you look at those pictures?"
JJ looks uncomfortable by his comment, and you're quick to jump in.
"JJ is the toughest woman I know."
"Thanks," she whispers to you.
"Here, eat this. This should help with your sickness."
You hand over a good snack that her baby boy will enjoy. She smiles and takes the snack gratefully. Soon, the rest of your team gets to the station, and the Sheriff gathers his men for the profile.
"Ian and Abby Corbin have already been missing for over twenty-four hours, which means we may only have until tonight to find them. According to their families, they left Reno yesterday and were planning on stopping somewhere for the night. They didn't use a credit card. Unless they travel with a lot of cash, the room wasn't too expensive," Hotch begins.
"They were not traveling on the interstate. That eliminates over half of our previous search," Emily adds. "It sounds like we're looking for somebody who works the night shift at a back road motel, and we think he's most likely in his early to mid-thirties."
"Why is that?" the sheriff asks.
"Abducting couples is an ambitious task, and this guy's had time to perfect his skill."
"He could be older."
"Don't get hung up on his age. That's the hardest thing to predict," Rossi says.
"What we do know is that females take extensive beatings from him. That, combined with the sexual assault, tells us he's a violent anger excitation rapist. A sexual sadist like this can't get off unless he's torturing and watching the effects on his victims," you state. "That part of the torture is psychological. This is another reason he takes couples. Chances are he forces one to watch his power over the other."
"Because only the women suffer sexual torture, he's likely a malignant misogynist. This typically stems from an extreme hatred towards a woman who was relentless in her psychological and physical abuse," Emily adds.
"How do you know the dad wasn't the abusive one, and he's just continuing the cycle?" the sheriff asks her.
"Only a woman could make him hate women this much. The idea of the 'terrible mother' is best illustrated in world mythology by the negative aspects of the great mother. Instead of nurturing her children, she destroyed him, and given this upbringing, it's highly unlikely he'd ever been in a relationship let alone been married."
"Since he works in the service industry, he's forced to deal with a lot of people. So, he can probably hide his aversion to women until he gets them behind closed doors. With that said, we shouldn't rule out anyone with prior offenses toward women."
"Given the amount of time he spends with his victims," Hotch says, "he requires a great deal of privacy. He may even utilize an ATV to get away from the accident sites, so the property may back up onto an off-road trail. We should therefore concentrate on the most remote motels first. Thank you."
It's time to go door to door asking managers if they had seen the missing couple. There are too many properties to double up, so you have to go alone. After a dozen people have told you they know nothing of the missing couple, it's already sundown. Everyone has been working their asses off, and it seems like you're not getting anywhere.
You make it back to the police station when everyone gets through their list. No one has any good news, and you're about to collapse from how tired you are. Hotch is still out, and you're about to call him and ask if you can take a break when you get a call from your mom.
"Hey, mom. Did you get my message?"
"I did, sweetie. Your father and I are in town right now. Could I steal you away from your job for dinner?"
"Let me ask. Send me the address, and I'll let you know if I can or not."
"Okay, sweetie."
You quickly hang up on her and get Hotch on the phone. He's not too particular about you leaving, but since your parents are down the road at a local restaurant and you've finished with your list, he allows you to go. If he needs you and Spencer, then all he has to do is call, and you'll come right back.
"Spencer, let's go," you say and grab your jacket.
"Where are we going?"
"To dinner with my parents. We won't be long in case Hotch needs us back."
"Meeting the parents, huh? Good luck, man," Derek says and pats him on the shoulder.
You two take one of the government cars and head over to the restaurant, and your parents stand when they see you enter.
"Mom! Dad!" you grin and give them both a hug. Your dad holds you for a tad longer than your mother, but you don't think anything of it. "I'd like you to meet Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is my mom and dad, Julie and Joey."
Your dad immediately stiffens up, and you look at him to see his eyes seething red with anger. He's trying to hide it, but you can see the underlying threat in his eyes.
"Be nice," you whisper to him before taking a seat in the booth with Spencer next to you, and your parents across from you.
"Spencer, it's nice to finally meet you," your mom says with a smile.
You wanted nothing but to enjoy dinner with your parents, but you can feel the tension in the air even without your abilities.
"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Y/L/N."
"So, how did you two meet?" your dad asks.
"We met at work. I had just started and he helped me learn the ropes. It wasn't until about seven or eight months after we met that we started dating." You think about Lila Archer, and how he was smitten with her. Man, that seems like so long ago. "He's a doctor, you know."
"Y/N," Spencer blushes.
"Really?" your mom asks.
"Yeah. He has three PhDs, three Bachelor's degrees, and specializes in statistics and geographical profiling. He's very smart," you grin proudly.
"You're in love with him, aren't you?" your mom asks.
"I am."
"You're too young to be in love," your dad snaps.
Your dad stares at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He looks at Spencer and holds his utensils with a grip so hard that his knuckles turn white.
"Dad, I can feel your anger. What is the matter?" you sigh.
"Nothing," he shrugs.
Your mom places a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs her off. You're not sure what's causing this behavior, but you try to ignore it. Even after the food comes, your dad still holds a sour look on his face.
"Okay, seriously, what is your problem?" you ask, tired of his shit.
"Nothing. I'm fine." You glare at him, and he mutters something under his breath that you hear as clear as day. "Spencer isn't good enough for you."
You slam your utensils down on the table with a loud clang, and Spencer stays silent next to you.
"I love him, Daddy. That should be more than enough. We need to get back. Call me when you have a better attitude. Come on, Spencer."
You two slide out of the booth, and you toss down some money for the meal you know they were going to pay.
"I'm sorry, Spencer," you say when you get into the car.
"Don't be."
Still, you can't help but feel bad. You head back to the station, and when Derek sees the sad look on your face, he wants to question it. Spencer shakes his head at his friend, and Derek holds his tongue for now.
"Where are we at?" you ask, eager to get back into the case.
"Garcia found a connection between a motel handyman and Rebecca. They went to high school together. So, I thought maybe he was connected to other victims. It turns out he's not, but there's something else that all of the women have in common. Rebecca was found in a bra, a t-shirt, a skirt, and flip-flops. Johanna was found in a dress and sandals, and Melissa was wearing a bra, tank top, and jeans. None of them were wearing underwear."
"How do you know it was taken?" Spencer asks.
"Because they all packed it in their bags, but none were wearing it during the collisions. He leaves his victims in a car without their underwear and waits for them to be hit. A violent collision of metal against flesh. It's like the accidents are the final rape. This sexual aspect didn't show up overnight. This is something he's been building up to."
"So, this guy sees these collisions as some kind of rape?" The Sheriff asks.
"We know that an underwear fetish typically begins in adolescence with peeping in neighbors' windows. When that no longer satisfies them, they'll burglarize homes and start taking the object that arouses them."
"If they get away with that long enough, they become more confident. Then the object becomes the woman wearing it. That's when rape can occur. The one constant is they always take the underwear as a souvenir."
"Is it possible a pervert like this has ever been arrested?"
"There's a good chance a serial sex offender with an underwear fetish has been caught before."
"Right again, Agent Hotchner," Penelope says.
You didn't even know she was on the phone with the rest of the team.
"What is it, Garcia?"
"For the last two days, I've been searching through ViCAP for similar rapes and murders in cases that are still open. That has yielded me with diddly squat. So, I regrouped. I looked at some pictures of baby pandas. I went back in and I started searching for similar rapes and murders in cases that had been solved.
"Five months ago, this guy named Clint Barnes is convicted of five rapes that have been thirty miles away in Selbyville. Now, what's interesting, and by interesting I also mean icky and sad and wrong, is that Mr. Barnes only stole the undergarment of his last victim and she was beaten in exactly the same manner as our current victims. She was the only one who died," Penelope explains.
"The first four showed no sign of torture?"
"According to statements made by the survivors, yes. There were some questions about his performance. Things like, 'Did you enjoy it?'"
"That sounds like a power reassurance rapist. That doesn't fit his last crime at all," Spencer says.
"The last victim wasn't his. It was our unsubs."
"I'll push a rush through the DA's office," the Sheriff says.
With him asking the DA for the files from Selbyville, they come pretty quickly. He must know the DA for it to come that quickly.
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