#but i want to see how howl learns about other worlds

[starshinedreamer]

Alrighty y'all, grab a chair and get comfy whilst I yap about my son, my pride and joy, the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my D&D OC: Raymond Foxwood. He is a Wood Elf Druid with the Researcher background and a Neutral-Good alignment (Images at the very end).

I haven't figured out what his voice sounds like yet. I'm thinking he may kind of have an accent? But like it's barely there. I do have an idea for a possible Japanese voice claim: Souta from the movie Suzume.

His best friend? I guess it would be my friend's D&D character. Her name is Topaz and she is a Dragonborne. Not besties, but pretty close.

Ooooooo boy, I got a whole playlist my friend and I have been cooking up for this sad little fella. Here's a couple of them that I think describes him best:

-"The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

-"Rom-Com Gone Wrong" by Matt Maltese

-"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan

-"Home" by Cavetown

-"Valentine" by Laufey

-"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar

He's like, dealing with a heavy breakup until "Valentine" when he meets his current partner :)

4. "I do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill

5. Nope! But I actually thought about it when I was first creating his character just to see how he would act with other dynamics.

6. A scientist. More specifically, an ecologist. He loves nature and learning about all there is to know about life and the world. He also likes finding ways to help others, so maybe even a pharmacologist?

8. Writing, researching, reading, gardening, and making little insect and animal models because he is a NERD™ /lh<3

9. He generally takes good care of his physical health. Although, his flaw is "Most people scream when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy," soooo. "For science" he says. "It's for the greater good" he says.

10. Well he's trying his best. But sometimes anxiety just surprises you and all of the sudden you're spiraling and things seem much worse than they are and pfffft whaddya meeeeaaaan I'm sorta self projecting? But he is the kind of person who feels bad about asking for help and then sort of holds it all in.

11. Inspirations were taken Link from The Legend of Zelda series (mainly BOTW) and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for his design. Everything else was based purely on my own self indulgences for a nerdy elf character (and the songs my friend keeps sending my for him).

12. Same response as question 2 :)

13. No not really, but he is fighting against an organization that keeps threatening and trying to burn down the library he works/lives in with the librarian: Amanita (Ama, Anita, or Nita for short). Amanita is the person who raised and took care of Raymond after his family died in a fire. A fire caused by the same organization who's trying to harm them now. This is his main reason for joining a campaign; to get stronger and protect his loved ones.

14. This one flippin poison dragon we fought. Or maybe that's just me because I really didn't want to let them leave alive. I don't think Raymond necessarily hates anyone.

15. That all honestly depends on how the rest this campaign will play out. My friend has told me that they all did die a couple times, and we almost died to the STINKIN DRAGON but that's not important right now. But L O R E wise, he'd probably still do his researcher stuff until he's really old. Then he'll write books and share his stories :)

16. If they were alive, then I could see him having a great relationship with his parents since they were also big nerds like him. His relationship with Amanita is also great, and he really wants to protect her since she has done so much for him.

17. YESSSSSS! He loves sharing his knowledge with others and would do such a great job teaching kids. Ohhhh this is such a good one, yes he would feel bad if he had to leave them.

18. He/Him :>

19. Biromantic Asexual. His love language in giving is Acts of Service, and Quality Time for both giving and receiving.

20. A longbow and rocks. He has a cantrip spell called "Magic Stone" which lets me make a ranged attack by throwing small pebbles or stones. I like to call this spell the "RAYMOND, STONE 'EM" spell because its funnnnyyyy.

21. hmmmmmmmmmm Actually, I'm not sure! I guess maybe "Nothing You Can Take From Me" from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

22. Will generally go for the non-violent option (more of a lover), but if initiatives are rolling, he'll fight.

23. Extremely. He'll show up with a new tire to fix the flat one, and an extra one for any future situations.

24. Undecided

25. Not singing out loud, but he would definitely hum to himself! :)

26. Irises, forget-me-nots, and bluebells

27. Symbolism wise, a deer. 'Just because' wise, a rabbit, a fox, and a kitty cat :3

28. The Nerds™ (found at the end of this post:) ).

29. Cozy stuff, lo-fi, books, plants, leather notebooks, and an overall sort of cottage core mixed with academia aesthetic. (Mood Board made in Canva :>)

30. Accepts this as their new life(yippee!). They have now been adopted. Will try to find a way to bring up their interests in conversations.

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[stories-of-imagination]

Sometimes, and for seemingly no reason at all, I get irrationally mad we never got a prequel to Howl's Moving Castle.

[willowedspirits]

Hollow Knight Linked Universe AU! I've finally finished it!

If you don't know much about Hollow Knight, a lot of the technicalities might not make sense, and I would encourage you to look into the game. Or you could just enjoy the chain as bugs and see them off on their buggy adventures!

I've made this AU trying to keep as close as I can to Hollow Knight's story, but some creative liberties were of course taken.

My main idea is that the infection is the equivalent to Dark Link's (who does exist in this) infected monsters and it's up to them to try and slow/stop the infection. My first thought was to have the infection start to spread outside of Hallownest, and the chain needs to go and stop it, but I'm still going back and forth on it.

I'm still open to changing concepts if I find something that works better, but after literal months of working on this on and off I'm happy with how this has turned out!

Rambling about character details below!

Small note: I've set this AU at roughly the start of the infection, when Radiance was starting to take over Hallownest.

Time

Is not from Hallownest. He traveled to Hallownest from a distant land, where he met Malon and settled down with her.

He encountered Radiance upon entering Hallownest, but was protected by a god that had already laid claim to him, Fierce Deity, who protects him from the Radiance's infection.

He and Malon live in the Howling Cliffs.

His wing and antenna injury are from Radiance when she tried to infect him.

He is not able to fly because of the injury, and now fights with a heavy nail.

His wings used to be green, but after encountering the Fierce Deity, they slowly started to change in color until they were blue.

I'm not sure if I would do anything with the eyes on his wings, I was trying to make a connection to Majora in that, but I'm still debating whether to add it.

Twilight

Is a part of the Traitor Mantis tribe that lives in the Queen's Garden.

He met a Sibling (Midna) that escaped from the Abyss. They gave him the ability to harness Void.

Still working on the detail for how exactly they give him this ability, but my rough idea is that perhaps both of them were attacked by and infected villager, and they saved him by giving up their Void essence.

He's grown up wanting to be infected by the Radiance. He was taught the Radiance was a god that gave bugs great strength, but after seeing what the infection really does, he starts to have second thoughts.

The cloak he is wearing is new. The one he wore before was damaged. I'm still debating on when exactly he gets it, but I think it's something he makes after he leaves the traitor village.

Warriors

He is the head knight of the Hive and oversees whoever enters their territory.

His scarf is a gift from the princess of the Hive given to him when he leaves to join the group.

Since he is a bee, he is connected to the Hive via the hivemind. He uses this to check in on his home whenever he can.

This also makes it very dangerous if he gets infected, since it would quickly spread to the other bee's.

I kept his nail the same as Hive Knight's, but it's open to change.

Four

(I'm still very iffy on Four's story concept, but here's what I have so far)

Lives in Green Path.

He has a passion for weapon smithing, and planned on moving to the capital of Hallownest (City of Tears).

But he accidently stumbled on a weak Unn, and agreed to help protect her while she recovered.

When she did recover, she blessed him with a power that allows him to split into 4 parts of himself using his SOUL.

He can split while in the physical world, but will always be split while in the Dream realm. This also makes it difficult for Radiance to infect him.

Wind

Lives in the Kingdom's Edge and works as a guide across the acid lakes. Most of the travelers are those who are seeking to fight in the Colosseum of Fools.

This is how he found the Colosseum, and regularly attends (but not participate in) some of the fights, which is how he meets Tetra.

He is just learning to fly, but is picking it up really fast.

I wanted to keep the lobster apart of his design... But there are no lobsters in Hollow Knight... Then I remembered this was an AU and I can do what I want with it. So lets just pretend that Lobsters are seen as these awesome ancient beings that he wishes to see one day.

Wild

He was a guardian of the Beast's Den before he became infected, leaving the Den to reside somewhere in Deep Nest.

He is cured by the Dream Nail when the group meets him, and the last to join.

His shell is cracked and damaged because of the infection. The cracks have healed over time, but will never go away.

He has trouble with his memory due to being infected for so long before being cured. He is slowly regaining his memory, but there are still a lot of pieces missing.

His infection spread through to his arm, but is hidden under his cloak.

He uses his nails almost as throwing needles.

Legend

Is a shop owner in Hallownest's capital. He sells all kinds of items from all across Hallownest, small things he's found that could be valuable.

He's managed to make his way into the upper class of the capital due to his shop. His cloak is a modified version of the upper-class wardrobe. He dyed and added the hood himself.

Has a great sense of exploration, and has been all over Hallownest, but still has some places he needs to check off.

His jewelry are all gifts from Ravio.

My original concept for his design was to give him 4 arms. I was thinking of the Collector when designing him, and thought it fit. But after working on finalizing the design, I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it. I still love the concept though.

Hyrule

(Again, I don't have a clear story concept for him but I have some notes)

Lives in the Ancient Basin.

Has learned how to use SOUL, and is in hiding from the residents of the Soul Sanctum because of it.

He has access to spells and is able to heal himself using SOUL.

I originally gave him a cloak, but couldn't decide if he looked better with or without it. So he does have it, but only sometimes.

Sky

Is the wielder of the Dream Nail, which can be used to cure infected bugs by purging the Radiance from their dream's.

Has wanted to learn to fight with a nail since he was little, and would practice his skills.

He learned about the Dream Nail after some of the moth tribe became infected. He left shortly after he learned this infection was spreading through Hallownest, with the goal of stopping it.

He isn't the only one that can use the Dream Nail, but is the one dubbed the "owner" of it.

And that's what I've got!

I didn't go much into Dark Link here, but would be happy to show some concepts I have for him as well if anybody is curious. I'm making him almost like a living version of the Radiance's infection, and is able to spread it from bug to bug without needing to access their dreams. This is mainly why I'm torn on having them leave Hallownest. If Dark Link could spread the infection to farther lands, or to keep him inside Hallownest and just spread it faster there.

I thought that using the Dream Nail was a good equivalent to the Master Sword here, so I just mashed them together, and a lot of the motivations for the chain trying to stop the infection is "I'm seeing this awful thing happen to these bugs that I don't want to see happen to others," with some small variations here and there.

I've been working on this for so long, I just want to share by bug boys. I would love to gush and ramble about them some more. I have stuff I want to do with this AU.

[alandia-wings]

first full moon / @wolfstarmicrofic / 662 words

—

Teddy Lupin is twenty-three days old the first time he turns into a werewolf.

He is his father’s darkest nightmare come to pass: newborn flesh and cartilage molded into animal by the violent pestle of the moon. 

(He is small. The change is quick. A wolf in baby’s clothing.)

The aftertaste of the potion burns the back of Remus’s throat like bile. He doesn’t believe in wishful thinking, or god, but for nine months he hoped and prayed for anything but this. 

The cub is too young to howl. Instead he whimpers pitifully, paws trapped in the sleeves of his babygrow, blue cotton patterned with sunflowers. Teddy’s mum picked it out for him. Now she is dead, Teddy is a monster, and the sleepsuit is a cage. 

(Not for the first time, Remus considers the irony of Wolfsbane: I am safer to others, and so much more dangerous to myself.)

The cub whines again, but more softly. A baby’s cry is its proof of life and Teddy’s has been stifled. Remus goes to him, the way he should have the instant the moon slackened its hold around his neck. He leans over the bars of the crib. Struggles with the fabric. Noses helplessly at stubborn clasps. Finally, seeing no other recourse, Remus sinks his teeth into the sunflowers and rips.

(Just like that, Teddy learns violence is part and parcel of being free, and the wolf proves an even worse father than the man.)

Thrilled, for his part, by the development, the cub sets to work exploring. He lifts a paw curiously and drops it, then another. Teddy Lupin is twenty-three days old the first time he walks, and his little mouth hangs open in wonder at his own existence. 

Eventually he pauses and looks up, awaiting further instruction, and oh, Remus doesn’t know how to do this. Teddy’s eyes are hazy but trusting, too newly formed to see the world clearly. Remus doesn’t dare do it for him; there is nothing he has to teach that he wants his son to learn. 

(In another world, they might have slept peacefully through this moon. The next one too, if Remus could afford more potion. Maybe all of them, now that the war’s done.)

(In this world, he will worry about his son every full moon for the rest of his life.)

In this world, there’s a knock at the door. Remus has terrible instincts; he freezes, and Teddy follows his lead—two werewolves, paralyzed like prey.

The Wolfsbane potion is more than 50% poison. This is enough to kill the wolf for a night and let the man take cover in its husk. Or so Remus has always thought. If it’s brewed and taken correctly, there is no more wolf in Remus’s brain.

It was not brewed and taken correctly, because the black dog is here and the wolf greets him at the door. Sniffs him cautiously. Leaps back and howls with recognition, delight. 

His human brain would think things like, oh, that’s Sirius. And, why on earth is he here? But the dog and the wolf, old friends together again, are unencumbered by such thoughts. 

The dog wags his tail and bounds over to the crib. With care but not hesitation, he grabs Teddy by the scruff of his neck and lifts him up. Delivers him to his father, then lies down to lick the fur between his ears. Pleased, the cub squeals with approval and leans into the offered touch.

Remus watches quietly until a wet nose nudges at his paw. His eyes meet the familiar grey ones of a boy who once, many lives ago, taught himself to be a dog. 

(It is still the only case he knows of a man becoming canine by choice.)

Fighting the desire to flee, Remus lowers slowly to the floor. Then, under the gaze of the first creature the wolf ever touched without causing pain, he moves closer and nuzzles his precious son.

[hedwig221b]

Witch or magical Stiles recs..?

Hi! I did magical!Stiles fic recs here! This time, let's focus on witch!Stiles (my beloved)

A Thousand Fiery Suns of Angst - Just Press Play by apocryphal

All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It's all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.

The Wolf in the Tower by exclamation

Too many people are scared of witches so when Stiles accidentally sets a building on fire with magic, he is taken prisoner and dragged before Lord Hale. Rather than leave an untrained magic user free, Peter Hale thinks he might be able to make use of Stiles' skills and hands Stiles over to his sorceror Deaton to be trained. Stiles is still unsure about his future, but he's even more confused when he finds out that one of his new duties involves feeding the black wolf imprisoned at the top of one of the towers. There's something very strange about this wolf and Stiles can't help wondering if magic might be involved.

Dead Things by standinginanicedress

Derek blows some more smoke out. He chooses to look at Stiles’ mouth instead of in his eyes, again. “I need you to bring someone back.” “Back.” “From the dead.” “Absolutely not,” Stiles scoffs, shaking his head. “Not for you, not for all the money in the world.” Derek looks at him, just looks. He is not going to accept no for an answer, and Stiles knows it, but it doesn’t matter, because Stiles will not do that. He cannot do that, not again. “Why not for me in specific?”

For My Flesh Had Turned to Fur, and My Thoughts Had Turned to You by literaryoblivion

They’ve known about the other pack for quite some time now. They know the pack is young and small, formed together more by accident and necessity than anything else. But, they haven’t done anything about them because they’ve been fairly quiet, kept to themselves, and haven’t caused any trouble. That is until the Hales start hearing rumors about the McCall pack acquiring a very young and inexperienced but powerful witch. So Alpha Hale sends her eldest son, Derek, for all intents and purposes, to spy on the McCall pack and their so-called witch, to see what the truth of the situation is.

The Ink Under My Skin by rainsoakedshoes

Derek is looking for an Emissary. What he finds is Stiles Stilinski; resident witch. Stiles would do whatever it takes to protect the Hale pack and his Alpha. “I want to protect my pack as well as I can,” Derek continued. “Emissaries traditionally keep balance, having someone who wants to tip the odds in our favour may come in handy.”

Destiny is the Rising Sun by asswords

Stiles and Derek are best at keeping secrets – the biggest one being the fact that they knew each other long before Scott had to go and become a werewolf. (The second biggest secret belongs to Stiles, something about how he’s not allowed to tell Derek he’s the trusted advisor and kind of a witch.)

your fangs against my skin (the sound of your bones)

This was it, then, huh? It was that easy for Derek to invite someone to his den. Someone other than Stiles. He healed the wolf. Stiles killed his tormentor, mended his blood and bones, and let him sleep beside him. But none of it was enough. He wasn’t a spark, after all, but a witch — evil and alone, locked up in his tower. Witches didn’t get happy endings.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life. There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

These Scars Tell A Story (But It’s Not Mine) by HappyJuicyfruit

Derek’s eyes widened in confusion as Stiles babbled at him. “I know it’s not up to you, but you’re like, my guard, right? You’ve been keeping an eye on me? Tell your mom I wouldn’t lie about this, my dad deserves to stay here. He’s happy here, please let him stay!” Guard? Keeping an eye on him? “Stiles, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stiles face crumpled, his hands clung to Derek’s shirt tighter as tears and snot dripped off his chin. Derek frantically tries to think of the right thing to say. “You think- you think I’m your guard? That I’ve been watching you to, what, make sure you don’t do any magic? Stiles, that’s ridiculous. Beacon Hills is a sanctuary for supernaturals. We allow people to use their magic. I was just trying to be your friend.” Stiles breath hitched. “My friend?”

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | mafia | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | creature!Stiles | bad friend Scott | unrequited love | werewolf!Stiles | dark sterek | single parent!Stiles

[earthlyangelbby]

Thank God for shitty landlords and old heaters.

Sfw!

Fluff so much fluff

2k words sorry I just wanna kiss him!!!

Mechanic Eddie x Server Y/N

Pls be kind I don't write often!! Also sorry for any mistakes I'm dyslexic anyways enjoy!

Part 2 Dungeon Master journal Confessional

The wind howled outside, a relentless fury that whipped snow across the trailer park. You tugged your scarf tighter around your neck, feeling the chill seep into your bones. Your heater gave out hours ago, and now your pipes were frozen solid. No amount of blankets, space heaters, or hot water bottles could fix it. The cold felt like it had taken over your whole trailer.

You hadn’t seen much of Eddie lately. Life had gotten in the way. He was busy shadowing an older mechanic at the garage, learning the ropes, and you were stuck serving coffee and burgers at the diner. Both of you were still young in your early twenties, but adult life had a way of pulling you in different directions.

But it was cold, and you needed a warm place. And there was one person you knew who might not mind taking you in.

You grabbed your jacket, pulled on your boots, and made your way to the other end of the lot where Eddie’s trailer sat, a little out of place among the others. When you knocked, you weren’t sure what you expected, but the door opened almost immediately. There he was, looking exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him same wild hair, same Metallica shirt, same flannel.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite server!” Eddie greeted with that signature grin of his, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Y/N What’s got you out here in this storm? You look like you’ve been standing out there for hours.”

You shrugged, trying to act casual, even though the cold had your teeth chattering. “My heater’s out, pipes are frozen. I was hoping I could crash here for a while, if that’s okay Eds?”

Eddie didn’t hesitate. “Of course. Come on in  before you freeze your little self to death.”

You stepped inside, and the warmth immediately hit you like a wave. Eddie closed the door behind you, locking it. You could already feel your body starting to thaw as he tossed your coat onto the back of a chair.

“You want something to drink? Hot chocolate, coffee, whiskey...?” He raised an eyebrow playfully, but you could see the genuine concern in his eyes as he looked you over. “You look like you’ve had a rough time of it.”

You rubbed your arms, trying to warm up faster. “Hot chocolate sounds good. I think I’ve had enough coffee for today.”

Eddie grinned and headed toward the small kitchen area. “Coming right up. You’re lucky you showed up. I was just about to settle in for some much needed peace and quiet.”

You sank onto the couch, letting out a deep sigh of relief as the warmth from the trailer began to seep into your bones. Eddie had always had a way of making everything feel like it was going to be okay, even when things were chaotic.

You glanced around at the familiar clutter in his trailer band posters on the walls, tools strewn across the table, a guitar leaning against the couch. It was Eddie’s world, still the same as it had been when you were kids.

Eddie returned with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, handing you one before sitting down beside you. The tension in the room wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was noticeable. You hadn’t seen much of Eddie since high school, and the distance between you two had grown in those years. Back then, after that ridiculous “seven minutes in heaven” dare, you’d stayed friends. But adulthood had a way of pulling people apart, and somewhere along the way, you’d both gotten busy with life responsibilities, jobs, the everyday grind.

Still, every now and then, Eddie would swing by the diner where you worked. He’d always come in for coffee, sit at the counter, and shoot the breeze with you. Sometimes, it felt like nothing had changed, and other times, it was like there was a lifetime between the two of you.

“So, how’s the diner these days?” Eddie asked, settling back into the couch with his own mug. “Still slinging coffee and making tips off the morning rush?”

You laughed, though it wasn’t a happy sound. “Yeah, pretty much. Same old grind. It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills. At least I don’t have to wear a uniform or anything. I just throw on my apron and pretend like I have my life together.”

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like a *dream* job.” His eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint you remembered. “What about you? Still fixing up that bike of yours? I thought for sure you’d be a full-time mechanic by now, with all that grease under your nails.”

You could tell he was teasing, but there was a quiet pride in his voice too. Eddie had always been someone who preferred hands-on work—wrenching on cars, fixing up old engines, that kind of thing. These days, though, he wasn’t quite the mechanic he’d hoped to be. He was still shadowing an older guy at the shop, learning the ropes.

“Nah, not yet. I’m still learning the ropes,” Eddie said, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m just the guy who gets handed all the crap work right now—changing oil, fixing brakes, things like that. But I like it. I can actually see progress when I finish a job. It’s better than just standing around, y’know?”

You smiled, appreciating the way Eddie spoke about his work. There was a certain quiet satisfaction there, a grounded sense of purpose that hadn’t been there when he was younger, just throwing himself into whatever came next. “You’ll get there. Just takes time.”

Eddie’s gaze softened a little as he looked at you. “Yeah, maybe. Anyway, what about you? You still trying to figure out your next move?”

You sighed, pulling your legs up underneath you on the couch. “I don’t know. Some days, it feels like I’m stuck. Like... I’m just going through the motions. Not sure if I want to be stuck serving coffee and pancakes for the next twenty years.”

Eddie leaned forward, his eyes locking with yours. “I get it. Life’s been... a little overwhelming, huh?” He reached out and tapped the edge of your mug, making it clink gently against the table. “But you’re still here, sweetheart. You’re making it work.”

You chuckled softly at the nickname, something so familiar about it despite the years that had passed since you last heard it. “Yeah, I guess I am. Just wish I knew what comes next.”

Eddie’s expression softened, and for a moment, you could see the old Eddie, the one who used to make everything feel a little less complicated. “You’ll figure it out. And, hey, you’re always welcome here if you need to get away for a bit.”

You smiled, feeling a warm glow spread through you that had nothing to do with the heat from the chocolate. “Thanks, Eddie. I needed this.”

He shrugged, grinning. “Anytime, sweetheart. You know that.”

For a moment, the conversation faded into the background as you both sat there, comfortable in the silence. But then, without warning, a thought crossed your mind. A memory. A teasing remark you’d made earlier, years ago, about that ridiculous dare in ninth grade.

You turned to Eddie with a sly smile. “Hey, do you remember that stupid ‘seven minutes in heaven’ dare we did at the sleepover?”

Eddie smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I remember. You and me, stuck in a closet together while everyone else was out there doing... whatever they were doing.” He leaned back on the couch, eyes narrowing with playful intent. “You know, I think I was the one who got *stuck* with the lousy kisser.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Oh, no. That was *definitely* you. I was trying to keep it together, but you... You practically headbutted me.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “I’ll have you know, I was just... *testing* the waters. You, sweetheart, were just too nervous to make it anything more than awkward.”

You leaned in a little closer, giving him a teasing look. “I don’t know. Maybe you just weren’t that good. We were young, but maybe... maybe you still *haven’t* figured it out.”

Eddie chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Is that a challenge?”

Without answering, you set your mug down on the coffee table, your gaze lingering on his lips. The space between you suddenly felt charged with something old, something that had always been there, buried beneath years of silence. Eddie didn’t move at first, but when he did, it was slow, his hand gently cupping the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

And then, finally, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was nothing like the awkward, clumsy thing it had been all those years ago. This time, it was soft, sure, and full of a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat in the room. Eddie kissed you slowly, as if testing the waters, his lips lingering against yours until you kissed him back with the same intensity.

When you pulled back, breathless, there was a moment of silence. Eddie’s gaze held yours, his hand still lingering gently at your cheek, thumb grazing your skin like he was afraid if he moved, the moment would disappear. He opened his mouth as if to say something but hesitated. You could see the emotions shifting in his eyes—the hesitance, the vulnerability, and something else, a softness that felt too delicate to name.

You were the first to break the silence, your voice barely more than a whisper. “That....wasn’t terrible.”

A flicker of his old grin returned, though this time it seemed tempered by something more real. “Glad I passed,” he murmured, voice low, his hand finally slipping down from your cheek to hold yours instead, his fingers lacing with yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He squeezed your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel the warmth radiate through you, driving away the last traces of the cold that had followed you inside. In his presence, with his fingers intertwined with yours, the trailer felt like the safest place you’d been in a long time.

“I’ve missed this,” you said softly, surprising yourself with the confession. The years you’d spent drifting in and out of each other’s lives had left a hollow spot you’d learned to ignore. But being here now, with him, made you realize how much you’d missed him.

Eddie’s expression softened, and he nodded, as if he’d been feeling the same thing. “I know,” he replied, a trace of sadness in his voice. “Sometimes, I’d sit at that counter at the diner, watching you work, wondering why the hell we let ourselves drift apart.” His eyes searched yours, open and earnest. “But... maybe it’s not too late, sweetheart.”

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words, both soothing and startling in their honesty. Your heart raced as you realized he’d been thinking about this as much as you had—about those years, those lost moments, the quiet longing that you’d buried somewhere deep. But now, that longing felt closer, tangible.

“What are you saying, Eddie?” you asked, barely able to get the words out, afraid of breaking the fragile hope between you.

He took a breath, the smile slipping as he looked at you with a seriousness you’d rarely seen from him. “I guess I’m saying... I don’t want to be just the guy who stops by the diner once in a while. Not anymore.” He paused, his hand tightening around yours. “I want to be... there for you. Not just tonight, but when you’re tired from work, when the heater’s out, when... you’re trying to figure out what comes next.”

You swallowed, his words filling the spaces you hadn’t realized were so empty. No one had ever offered you that before this quiet, steady presence, a promise that didn’t need to be flashy or grand but was everything you needed.

“So” you said, voice wavering a bit, “you’re saying you want to be my heating repairman and my taste-tester for bad coffee?”

Eddie chuckled, the sound rumbling through the cozy silence between you. “Yeah, Y/N that’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes intent. “And maybe... maybe we can figure out the rest together. If that’s something you’d want.”

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face that you couldn’t contain. “I think I’d like that,” you whispered, leaning closer again, letting your forehead rest against his. “I’d really like that, Eddie.”

For a moment, you stayed like that, your breaths mingling in the quiet, the world outside forgotten as the warmth between you grew. Finally, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a glint of mischief.

“And for the record,” you said, grinning, “I take back what I said about your kissing skills. They’ve... definitely improved.”

Eddie laughed, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you in an embrace that felt like home. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” he whispered, and his lips found yours once more, filling the cold night with a warmth that stayed long after the snow stopped falling.

Let me know what you think!!! Thanks for reading this far omg ❤️

[astracora]

Turning Point - Part 3

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability.

Word Count: 3811

Written: 5th January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. I'm not going to go into every detail of adapting to a prosthetic, there's a lot of stages. For anyone curious, MC uses a multi-grip prosthetic, that relies on electric signals from their residual limb to help communicate movement, using a specialised (fantasy) metal because it's adapted for their job. Also the general adaptive time for one can be up to a year, (even longer depending on how much it needs adjusting and how much active support you have). I'm cutting it down to six months overall (though they continue to learn better ways to use it going forwards). On account of the LADs world having stuff like... AI Robots that can have a conversation with you in the streets, and magic powers. I don't know how long this will be, or how many parts. I have a horrifying number of notes... I guess we'll see how long I can go before my brain shuts down.

Now Playing: The Line, by Twenty One Pilots

Masterlist AO3

<- Previous Next ->

You spend the next few days going through the motions.

You exist where you should be striving, and you breathe where you know you're supposed to laugh.

It's empty, but the angry beast in your heart doesn't snap and growl and howl. Demanding blood as recompense for an existence you cannot justify.

Looking in a mirror has become… difficult, so when you brush your teeth, or wash your face, too stubborn to let anyone help when your hand trembles, and you spill your things on the floor. You stare down. At the floor, as you go through motions you know like the back of your scarred hand.

There are moments when life bubbles up, but it is short and it is tired and you only feel it when you have others around you to bring it out. To ease life back into a hand that's become a claw. Smoothing the stretching torn skin, and tending to broken nails.

You go through the motions, because they wait for you on the other side of the door. If you cannot live for you, you will always live for others.

Sometimes it is all you can do, to motivate your broken heart to beat one more day.

Zayne comes with you to the hospital, to check in with your specialist. A warm older woman, who reminds you too much of Gran to not make you feel like you're seeing ghosts. It's a feeling mixed with guilt, and a small amount of fear. Unbidden but lurking. Everytime she, Meredith, touches you, an ache sparks in your heart.

A memory like static hits you, and you have to steady your breath and your heart with a firm hand before you can resume listening.

If you can even be said to be listening.

You're checked over, made sure that your injuries haven't been made worse by your isolation and lack of care. You're lucky, you're told. That someone found you, that they came to you, brought you back to the hospital.

You want to snap back that luck doesn't tear your arm from your shoulder.

That you're not lucky. You're not brave.

You're not anything.

Zayne is commended for his sutures, and his quick care, he barely responds, hand firmly in your one. Squeezing, loosening his grip, squeezing. Self comforting himself as much as he is comforting you. You return the gesture, staring out the window. Trying to take yourself somewhere else. Somewhere without white walls, and terrible motivational posters.

Somewhere where this ghost of your grandma isn't hovering over you. Where you're not hearing talk about next steps.

Somewhere warm maybe.

His hand grounds you, keeps you tethered. Part of you wants to release and let yourself float, the other is scared to disappear into the clouds without him. So you stay, and you hold on. Like you're a balloon he keeps around his wrist.

"Let's check your prosthetic fit. It will need adjustments going forwards as you learn to use it."

Static.

You're somewhere in the room, staring at yourself as you nod, a hand on your shoulder as your shirt buttons are loosened. As straps are pulled and tightened around skin. Even half aware they feel raw. Itching and burning against you.

Unwanted. Unwelcome.

It's a distant pair of eyes that gaze at the limb fitted into place, staring at the metal. You blink finally. Clearing your head to look. Just… look.

"Comfortable?"

You think back to the bathroom with Rafayel. His gentle hands soothing dirt from your skin, and his eyes glowing as they look at you. You think to a gentle hand stroking your head as you fall into sleep, starry blue eyes watching you carefully. You think about a crow bringing you snacks, of red eyes watching you warmly over a bowl. You think about a doctor's hand in yours, easing the scars over, like you've done to his.

You think about the pieces of you twisted and bunched and stuffed under skin that fits too tight. You think about the pain of waking up every morning now. Of avoiding your own gaze in the mirror.

You think of a limb you can still see the metal piercing through.

You aren't sure how to answer her. Too many things bundled up in your head, struggling to filter and file and understand which is which.

Zayne gives a gentle tug, looks down at you, forest eyes glimmering. Absently you think you see fear, like you're going to disappear, if he lets you go. Float away on a weak breeze.

It should shame you. Feeling this weak.

You're just so tired.

When he speaks, he soothes with his thumb, pressing into skin and drawing the infinity sign against you, "Is it rubbing painfully anywhere?" He clarifies the question.

The noise filters back a little, giving you a direct pathway to your answer, "The straps. They hurt."

The doctor nods to herself, she writes notes down and adjusts them. "They'll soften over use, you'll need to clean them weekly at least, leather conditioner can help ease the initial discomfort."

The raw rubbing softens a little, still too hyper aware of the feeling, you twitch away from her when she adjusts where the metal and sheath touches your skin. "Does it hurt?"

"No. Your hands are cold."

Her laugh reminds you of Gran too, and you can feel the walls getting closer. You have to hold it together. You have to keep it together.

You can't break down here. You can't. You have to be stronger than this.

It's like there's a lump in your throat. A feeling like you're going to be sick, maybe cry. Maybe both.

You can't be weak here.

"Can we take a minute, Doctor Rin?" Zayne asks, voice calm but cool. Like he isn't really asking, like it's a formality. Respect for someone who knows how to help you.

She leans back and nods, "Of course." She looks over at you and smiles, and it's too warm and kind to not make you flinch back, "Take a few minutes outside."

You can't respond because the lump in your throat is rising.

Don't cry.

With a steady hand on your back, Zayne leads you away from the room, steering you through the corridors of Akso. Out into the courtyards. Where it's quiet. Where no one can watch as you finally crack.

As you gulp, and cover your mouth. Trying to force it down as you hiccup and gasp.

There's a burning in your shoulder, everytime you feel the brush of metal, the chill through the sheath. You feel the cool straps, refusing to take your body heat. You reach up with your hand to pull them off but a hand takes yours. Holds it, as another releases the buckles. Removes the offending thing.

Gently. Carefully. Reverently.

He places it down on a bench, then pulls you closer. Rubbing warm circles into your shoulder and skin through your shirt. You cling to his, trembling until the feeling eases out. Relieved from your confines.

From the woman who brings ghosts to your door.

From the memories of ice cold pain and scorching blood.

"What do you need?"

You shake your head. Too much. You want this nightmare to be over. You want to wake up and things be easier. You want things you can't have.

You want to feel strong. Brave. Complete.

A hand, cool to the touch but accompanied by a warm gaze, turns your head. Looking up, as he wipes tears that have escaped against your will. "Do you want another doctor?"

Yes. No.

Maybe?

The ghost of Gran scares you as much as she comforts you.

Meredith Rin is top of her field. You know that. Logically it makes no sense, to turn down the woman who can have your back, get you through this.

If you want to move forward, you have to try. You have to.

"No." You choke out, shaking your head in his grasp, leaning into his palm, "No."

He seems relieved, face relaxing a little, "Very well, I've read her recommendations, testimonies from patients. I trust her abilities."

If he trusts her, you think you can too. You trust him right now, more than you can ever hope to trust yourself. Scared of ghosts and monsters lurking in the shadows.

Scared of yourself.

"Do you want to go home?"

Yes. You do. You do. You want to be anywhere but the hospital. You're so very tired of hospitals.

It is the feeling of fatigue. The feeling of knowing the corridors better than you want to. Of knowing the faces of the doctors. Of knowing the other patients who visit frequently.

It is not just Zayne that tethers you to the hospital, it is the heart in your chest, the illness in your life, the injuries from your job, and now the prosthetic on the bench.

"Darling." His thumb eases, soothes, wipes at fresh tears, "I'm here."

You think about hospital appointments that Caleb had joined you for. How he'd written notes and focused so you didn't have to. Keeping you tethered.

Zayne looks at you with warm, beautiful eyes, and offers you his stability and his brain to keep you standing. Where you waver.

So you shake your head, "I can do it." You can. You can do it. You're not alone, you can do it.

"If you need to leave, tap my hand twice, alright?" It's an offer to escape, but it's spoken with pride in his voice, as you stand a little taller.

Your nod is firmer than before, and this time when he picks up the prosthetic, you can look at it a little longer. Maybe soon you'll look at it and look forwards.

—-

Rafayel is trying to focus on his work. He has an exhibition coming up, that he would cancel if he didn't have some degree of guilt for the stress it would cause Thomas. He doesn't mind tormenting the man occasionally, but breaking promises… it's not something he can bring himself to do. He's not a hypocrite.

If he waited every year for you to return to that beach, he'll carry out the promises he's made to finish his art.

He's only half paying attention to his canvas, though. Paint on his brush drying in the air, because he keeps looking over at you.

You're sat with Xavier, as you work through exercises to help with balance. He can see the strain in your back. A loose vest worn so you don't rub at the shoulder. You wince, but push.

Rafayel's paintbrush is set to the side, sketchbook picked up, and he works.

You are a vision in charcoal, when you finish an exercise you exhale in relief, before moving on. Every hurdle cleared no matter how tall, has you stabilise. Visibly relaxing, flinching less when Xavier's hands touch you. The prince is careful, gentle and observant.

There's life to his page again, he isn't sure he'll ever show you the sketches of you like this. Scars on your skin, hurting, but he keeps it in case there is a day you ask. So he can show you that you live and you move. That stumbling and hurting is ok.

Rafayel records you in sketches because he values every version of you, and he hopes one day you see that, and believe it.

As you finish for the day, falling to the floor, lying down. Breathing heavily, and worn out fully. He hears a soft laugh, "I'll get some water." The prince heads off to the kitchen, while Rafayel puts his work down, closing the sketchbook carefully, and approaching you. So that he can look at you, upside down, nose inches from yours.

"Hey cutie. Nice work."

You hesitate before smiling. It's not the smile you've worn before, but it's not a fake one. It's just tired. He might not understand the feeling fully, but he knows how hard struggling is. How it drains you. He also knows that no matter how proud you can be, stubborn and biting at the bit to be strong, that he should commend every action.

Even if you huff that it should be a simple achievement. It is not, not some days. Some days, he watches you give in. Some days, you power through better than others.

Today you almost gave up, before getting fiery and angry at yourself. Growling and forging on.

So he will commend you, because he wants you to value the effort.

"You're cute upside down too."

This time you do exhale a laugh, hand reaching up to poke his forehead. You miss, frown, and try again. "You're silly."

He joins you on the floor, lying with his head at yours, his legs up on your sofa. Face turned to you. Neither of you make a move to sit up, it is comfortable to simply lie, and stare up at the dimmed lights. "You're doing well."

A shaky exhale is his immediate answer, but you nod, "I'm trying."

He wants to say that trying is enough, he doesn't know if that's the right thing to say, but instead he reaches over towards your hand, and takes it in his. He can watch as the furrow in your brow eases, frown easing a little. He thinks you're finally trying to rely on them. To find comfort in their presence.

To not feel alone.

"It's hard," You speak, guilt in your voice, like you're confessing a sin. He squeezes, so you continue, "I feel pathetic, and sometimes I feel angry. So angry." You look at him, eyes glistening and he nods, "I want to give up."

"But you don't." He offers, watching your eyes waver, you can't hold his gaze for long, but he knows you're still keeping focus on him. Grounding yourself. "I'm glad that you're working through it."

Your exercises exhaust you, movement is harder now so he watches you fray. You let them handle things, food, cleaning, so you can focus on recovery. Rafayel is pleased, smug almost, that his presence here allows for that. It's a warm heat in his chest, like he's watching the tides, because if he can help you stand up tall again, he'll do anything for you.

You don't speak for a while, simply breathing through, relaxing and calming yourself. He reaches his other hand over to brush hair from where it sticks to your skin, revelling in the small shudder he gets from the sensitivity.

He will always be too sensitive to everything you do.

Xavier sits then, on your other side, and he looks up as you look at the glass in the prince's hand.

You release Rafayel's hand, pushing yourself up, shaking your head at the offer of help, and lean over a little to take the glass. Xavier's hand stabilising your back.

As he watches you, Rafayel thinks about your impatience, to be useful again. Back in the field. To overcome the hurdles despite the fact you wish to give up, he returns to his sketchbook.

With a quick pen, a dagger takes pride of place in the centre of his page.

—---

"We are not eating fish every night."

"Who made you the boss?"

"Variation is important in a diet."

"Fish is good for you!"

"Except for one big one."

You leave your bedroom after a nap, to find Sylus, Rafayel and Zayne in the kitchen.

Sylus has instructions on his phone, as he chops vegetables, while Rafayel is sat on the counter, trying to… you assume sabotage his efforts.

Zayne has his head in his hands, trying to read what you can tell is your treatment schedule. "Can the both of you act your age?"

"Tell that to the fish."

"I have a name, crow!"

You feel the laugh bubble out of you unbidden. The image is so out of sorts, and so ridiculous. Sylus of the N109 Zone, and Rafayel the lemurian artist. Arguing in your kitchen. That's far smaller than either of them are probably used to.

While your doctor sits and grumbles at them, barely trying to keep them from killing each other.

They turn at the sound, three pairs of stunning eyes, focusing on you as you try to cover your mouth to keep the laugh from escaping.

It doesn't work though. You laugh, and you laugh, and you laugh.

It's almost hysteric. Like a collapse, like walls crumbling down, and foundations falling.

It's euphoric. A release of pent up feelings you keep struggling to let out.

It's relieving. Tears flowing with it. Hiccups starting, laughter into sobs, then laughter again.

It's stupid but it throws something off of you. A beast of a burden, clinging to your back. Trying to pull you down.

It settles at your ankles, clinging to you, but you can stand up a little taller.

The monster that lurks, that angers, that demands blood. The creature that tells you to give up. It silences itself, curling up, and slumbers. Not forever. It never leaves forever, but for a little while… it is chased away by the realisation that you have something still to see.

These foolish men, living their lives alongside you.

Sylus' eyes are molten pools of affection as he watches you, lips quirking into that small smile you know intimately. "What do you want, kitten?"

"Cutie will make the right choice!"

As you approach, sitting beside Zayne at the counter who wipes your face as you do so, you smile softly, "I want salmon."

Rafayel lets out a whoop, way too close to Sylus' head, who winces and glares at him.

"You truly are a cat, kitten." He tuts, but moves to the fridge to grab it from the groceries Xavier had picked up earlier before heading off for a mission.

Zayne had given him a strict list of food that are good to eat when you are in recovery… even if some cookies had snuck their way into the list.

You try not to think about how you should be out there with him.

Zayne lets out an exhale next to you, "Finally, that argument is over."

"The doctor was very unhelpful." Sylus inputs, raising a brow at the man.

"As long as it's healthy, I don't mind what you prepare." He pushes the schedule close to you, so you don't have to lean over to watch, "I've been making notes for what we can do at home to help alleviate the time spent in the hospital."

You blink at him, and he pushes his glasses up to smile, "Is that alright?" It's a small nod, you're not sure how to explain to him how seen you feel with them.

It's been a long time since there was security in your life. You wish it had come at a time where you also didn't feel like you're standing over the edge of the abyss… but the safety net you can see below you finally… well… going through the motions is looking less like a chore.

"When do you start your prosthetic training?" Raffy asks, swinging his legs.

You check the documents, because you truly can't remember much of what was said to you verbally, and you'd been avoiding reading them since you received them. "A week."

"I'll send a copy around to everyone, if you're alright with it?"

You nod, it's an easy thing to agree to. You think about them finding you curled up in the blanket. It can't get much worse than that…

"Is your exhibit going well, Raffy?"

The man in question jumps, and you think he looks a little guilty, "I have one more thing to finish, it's giving me trouble, but I'll get there. Promise you'll come see it?"

It's hard to promise anything, caught in jewel eyes, watching them like a shimmering luminescent sea. You don't want to let Rafayel down, if you can't go. If you're too tired. If you're sick. If you just can't bear to be out.

What do you want to do? Plays in a loop in your head. If you can, what do you want?

You think about how Rafayel holds to promises like they mean everything. You think about the feeling you have sometimes like you've broken one without meaning to. You think about how warm his voice is when he forgives you if you can't go out with him because you hurt too much or are too tired, long before now. In a way you can't fake your way through, despite how much you hate letting your body pull you down.

It's easy then. What you want… the picture is clearer.

"I promise Raffy." Because as long as you can, you will. Because he'll understand if you can't. If your body hurts too much, if your fatigue is too great, if you're drowning.

His smile is so relieved, so bright, you almost look away from him.

An artist could try to capture him, and fail a million times over. He is too beautiful, and too kind, to ever be recorded on paper or canvas.

"How come the invite wasn't extended to all of us, fish?" Sylus teases, flicking some water off his hands at Rafayel's face. Who instantly looks like a startled cat in response.

"Why would anyone want you there crow?"

"You doubt my eye for beautiful things?"

"I doubt your taste in anything but cutie."

The man laughs, amused and unbothered by the insult, "Perhaps you should paint them, I'll definitely appreciate the art then."

Despite your nap, as you watch them, as the room is warm, you find yourself leaning into Zayne. Eyes drooping, he adjusts himself to place an arm around your waist, "You should go to bed if you're still tired."

The disgruntled mumble makes him huff a soft laugh, but he allows you to stay leaning into his side, as he turns paper, and reads. "Your specialist's work is very clear." He hums in approval.

"Approval from Doctor Li." You manage to tease, "I'm in good hands."

"You are. Though it took a little while to convince Sylus of that."

The man in question half shrugs as he stirs a pot, "There is no compromise with your health Kitten, I'd drag a doctor from halfway across the world if I had to."

This time Raffy nods, as though it's an obvious thing. To have the money to do that. Or, you think in Sylus' case, the power to do that. You'd be a little worried about the doctor's state of mind though. Kidnapped by a criminal and dragged to Linkon.

"It'll be ok." You manage, though sleep is pulling you under yet again. The net is there, ready to catch you. You feel a kiss pressed against your head, but it is dim and it is far away, and you fall before you can respond.

[drakorn]

Rewriting Veilguard Part 2 - The Shadow Dragons

Rewriting Veilguard Part 1 - The World State

Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.

Writing an Origin Story Mission for the Shadow Dragons

Now that we have dealt with our World State, it’s time to pick Rook’s background. When I first learned that there would be six factions to choose from, I was honestly very ecstatic. You’re telling me we’re getting six different origin stories for Rook? Did BioWare finally listen to the fans’ wish to get one more game with DAO-style prologue missions before the big main plot begins? Then I learned that six of the companions you meet would represent one of those respective factions, and I was like “Amazing, so you will definitely have one party member with whom you can at least align interests and goals from the start.”

What we ended up getting was…sort of something in the middle. Your backstory is brought up and you get quite a lot of unique dialogue regarding your faction. If you’re a Shadow Dragon, there’s a lot of Minrathous dialogue tailored to you specifically. If you’re a Grey Warden, you’re having an absolute field day whenever the Blight is involved, which is…a huge chunk of the game.

But there was…something missing for me. You see, when we start the game, we’re immediately thrown into this epic mission where Rook, Varric, and Harding find Neve and race to stop Solas. It feels very much like we’re starting somewhere in the middle rather than at the beginning. And that, in my humble opinion, is due to the lack of a unique origin story that you can actually play through. So, here’s what the next few parts of this hypothetical rewrite of Veilguard will focus on: creating six unique playable origin stories that would very much be doable without the vampiric leech known as “development hell” hovering over you. This post will focus solely on the Shadow Dragon origin story, so stay tuned for the others. I’m aware of how long it might take between posts, but I want to make sure I do this the right way.

Creating Rook

We start the game, which immediately kicks off Varric’s opening narration. But instead of Varric talking about Solas immediately, we’re gonna set the stage for the general state of Northern Thedas: with the South experiencing a few years of relative peace, the North is a wholly different story: Tevinter and the Qunari have engaged in a bloody and brutal all-out war, the Grey Wardens are growing more reclusive, strange reality warping occurs in Arlathan Forest, a part of the Antaam broke off and is now occupying Antiva and Rivain, strange whispers arise from the Grand Necropolis, basically, everything is in chaos. But Varric is certain that one person is the key to all this. Cue the distant howling of a wolf and six red eyes. Cut to black.

Now we get to customise Rook and choose our faction. As the title of this post suggests, we’re taking the Shadow Dragon route. The backstory text, however, is going to be different to the one we get in DAV. You see, when reading through those backstories, I got the feeling that all of them sounded like outlines for what could have been the origin story quest. I am actually 100% confident that BioWare planned on including prologue missions at one point but had to scrap them due to development hell reasons. And all of the six summaries essentially boil down to “you upset some higher authority and now your faction wants you out of the spotlight.” All the choices regarding Rook’s personality have already been made for us. Playing this actual backstory allows us to roleplay in a roleplaying game, which…shocking, I know, but here me out. Instead, the origin text we get when we click on the Shadow Dragons is simply going to be:

“You are a Shadow Dragon. This underground resistance opposes corrupt rulers and slavery in Tevinter. Coming from all walks of life, they are determined to bring justice to the people. As a member of House Mercar, a renowned Soporati family renowned on the battlefield against the Antaam, you have much influence to bring, and much to lose.”

That’s just the small little snippet we see when hovering over the option. But that’s all we’re gonna get for now. There is no mention yet of Rook’s personality as we’ll get to shape it ourselves a little bit. So, we customise our Rook, finalise our massive World State, and click on the play button at last.

Varric’s narration continues, just like in DAV, but this time, he’s going to give us our chosen faction’s backstory. We get a recap on how Dorian and Maevaris founded the Lucerni shortly after the war with Corypheus and how much of a ray of hope this group was in the twisted and corrupt society of the Tevinter Imperium. But then, some of the more powerful magisters began to heavily push against them, eventually leading to Maevaris being framed for treason and losing her seat in the Magisterium. She took all the blame on herself so that Dorian would be able to retain a spotless reputation and continue their work on the great political stage. Maevaris took the remaining Lucerni underground and formed the Shadow Dragons, continuing their work under a different name. Now unbound by political restrictions, the Shadow Dragons are free to take more radical measures in their fight against oppression and slavery. And Varric is confident that the perfect candidate to go against the bigger threat can be found in this group.

The Shadow Lair

Our story begins in Minrathous, in the underground base of the Shadow Dragons. And right off the bat, we’re making a change regarding said base’s location. In DAV, it stands in a random building somewhere in Dock Town that pretty much anyone could access. I get that they were probably going for the “hide in plain sight” approach, but let’s actually have some fun here.

In this rewrite, the Shadow Dragons are literally operating from the underground. Now, Minrathous’ underground system has two things that are very beneficial for a secretive rebellious organisation:

Vast catacombs. The catacombs of Minrathous are so massive that they can store food to survive years of siege. Minrathous, like so many cities and settlements in Tevinter, is built on the bones of Elvhenan. You can easily get lost in those catacombs.

Gigantic sewers. The sewers are arguably even more treacherous than the catacombs, because we have seen in Tevinter Nights what can lurk there. Imagine the sewers of the greatest city in the world, the greatest magical city in the world. Surely it comes with its own set of urban legends akin to the sewer gator. But in a city like Minrathous, those legends are probably true. Failed magical experiments, lyrium-infused mutations, abominations of former mages who failed some twisted blood magic experiment, possessed objects; all this can be found in Minrathous’ sewers. Dangerous for everyone, and therefore perfect for the Shadow Dragons.

The Shadow Dragons operate from a place called "The Shadow Lair”, a section of an underground district known simply as “The Undercity”. That’s where all the poor and forgotten retreat if they wish to disappear from the world, or criminals who flee the Imperium’s justice system. A dangerous but also perfect place.

NOTE: For the duration of the prologue, Rook will be referred to by the name of Mercar, as “Rook” is the name they give themselves after disappearing from the scene.

Depending on what race Mercar is, the stakes vary:

If Mercar is a human, they are the direct heir of House Mercar, destined to take over the family name one day. If Mercar is a human mage, they are currently in the process of getting their family appointed to Laetan status, which will give them more political power and influence.

If Mercar is a dwarf, they are an adopted scion of House Mercar.

If Mercar is an elf or a qunari, they are an official slave of House Mercar, but it’s made pretty clear in the beginning that House Mercar’s slaves are slaves in name only, while actually being more akin to paid servants. House Mercar simply refers to them as slaves to stay under the Magisterium’s radar and actually uses them to pass on information to the Shadow Dragons.

I was personally disappointed that DAV didn’t really touch on Tevinter’s slavery system. It felt a bit like I was treated with kid gloves and not given the trust to being able to handle dark topics. But Tevinter, as has been established in all DA media before DAV, is a pretty dark place for anyone who isn’t a human mage. And it’s important to depict that as it shows the stakes and just how rotten of a society the Imperium is. We need to see what the Shadow Dragons are actually fighting for. It’s not enough to just tell us how much a freedom fighter group we are, no, we need to see it.

Meeting the Leaders of the Shadow Dragons

For the sake of this playthrough, our Mercar is going to be a human mage, and thus not only the direct heir to the house but also one who can elevate it to Laetan status. We have a lot to lose, so we must be extra careful in this precarious situation.

So Mercar meets with the leaders of the Shadow Dragons, namely Maevaris and the Viper. From this conversation, we get the general gist of what’s about to happen and why we are here: House Mercar decided to get a bit more involved with the Shadow Dragons after both parties discovered a massive plot for something big involving Minrathous’ vast slave population. Whatever it is, it’s happening somewhere in Dock Town, and we are to rendezvous with Neve Gallus, a local and renowned detective, to get to the bottom of this.

Exploring the Shadow Lair

After the conversation, we get to have a quick look around the Shadow Lair, where we can instigate a small series of encounters:

We can talk to Maevaris some more and learn about her past and her motivation behind what used to be the Lucerni.

We can talk to the Viper and learn more about him, how he’s usually running operations and that he’s from an Altus house. But that’s about everything you can learn about him at this point in time.

We can meet Lorelei and learn about her being one of the city elves Loghain sold to Tevinter all the way back in DAO. She will give a few remarks on how the Hero of Ferelden dealt with the Alienage and how she and Alistair made it a more just place.

NOTE: For this rewrite’s hypothetical playthrough, the Hero of Ferelden is a Human Noble who romanced Alistair and became Queen of Ferelden. She is now searching for a cure for the Calling.

We can have a bit of a look at the Undercity and just see how much of a poor and dark place it is. This is the gutter, no, this is below the gutter. The people here wish to disappear. They are miserable, most of them have given up hope. The Shadow Dragons are the only ones who actually care about them.

Since the Undercity is below modern Minrathous, we can see traces of ancient elven architecture on display, including mosaics and frescoes.

An Old Friend

Just as we’re about to leave for Dock Town, a familiar face strides into the Shadow Lair: Varric Tethras. Yes, we actually get to see Rook’s first meeting with Varric here! Maevaris greets and introduces him to us (and we actually get to know that Varric and Maevaris are family, which DAV kind of glossed over, thank you very much). Mercar gets to have a first chat with Varric, where he assess our personality. This vibe check is what allows us to determine Rook’s general personality: are we diplomatic, humorous, or aggressive? I fully get that Varric wouldn’t pick an evil person to fight against Solas, but we should still have some kind of roleplay room regarding Rook’s way of thinking and speaking.

Varric’s purpose in these prologues is very similar to Duncan’s in DAO. He’s the one who recruits you into the larger fight and acts as a mentor figure for a while. I was actually fully expecting that to be the case in the actual game when we were told that Varric recruits Rook into the fight against Solas. Well, he did, but I would have liked to see it! Alas, we shall do so here!

Varric stays behind in the Shadow Lair while we go off and do our thing.

Entering Dock Town

Dock Town is pretty much right above the Undercity, the gutter above the actual gutter. The entrance to the Shadow Lair is quite hidden with enchantments, known only to Shadow Dragons and their associates.

Dock Town is going to stay pretty much exactly as we see it in the game. If there is one place in Minrathous where everyone could mingle without being necessarily immediately prosecuted, it’s that place (which is probably why that’s the only part of Minrathous we see in the game, but I digress). However, there will be one major change: slavery is still a thing.

Dock Town is…well…a place where ships dock. That includes ships of slave traders and prisoners of war. In this rewrite, Tevinter is still locked into a war with the Qunari, so there will be a lot of that reflected in the environment. As we walk through Dock Town, we see guards on high alert, slaves and prisoners being led away in chains. We’re doing some important environmental storytelling here that lets us know exactly why Tevinter is a place that needs to be liberated and changed so desperately.

Meeting Neve Gallus

We find Neve Gallus at the Cobbled Swan. Depending on dialogue choices, we might or might not have heard of her up to this point. I think it would be fun if Mercar could geek out about her because he read some sensationalist tabloid about one of her cases.

So Neve tells us that a huge part of Dock Town was closed off for a great event, a former small coliseum that hasn’t been used in decades. Coincidentally, several unpurchased slaves and prisoners of war are being dragged into that area.

Neve has a good lead to assume that the Venatori are somehow behind this because of course they are. Neve gives us a recap on what the Venatori are and how she had multiple run-ins with them already. She is to be absolutely certain that Mercar can be trusted as they will need to work together on this. In response, Mercar shares his side of the information, that his father, Charon Mercar, who is also a respected Legatus in this rewrite, oversaw a strange pattern in how many prisoners of war and masterless slaves, primarily from places like Ventus and Carastes, Qunari-conquered cities, have simply disappeared, and how surprisingly many military vessels have been transferred to Minrathous. Since Neve is a detective, it’s fun to make this part of the journey feel a bit like a crime mystery.

Once all information has been shared, Neve declares that it’s time to go.

Approaching the Coliseum

Neve takes us across Dock Town’s roofs towards the closed-off area of the coliseum. There, we see just how massively guarded it is. The official excuse for all this is a military training exercise. Horrifyingly, this is much closer to the truth than we realise. There are Imperial Templars and Legionnaires patrolling the outskirts, so we have to find our way in.

Neve directs us to a secret hiding spot, where we meet Tarquin, who is, as we know, an Imperial Templar working for the Shadow Dragons. Not even he knows exactly what’s happening, but something definitely big is going on.

There are two options before us: do we sneak in from above and observe from the shadows, or do we disguise ourselves as templars and participate in a more open manner? This right here gives us another choice regarding Mercar’s way of doing things. Are we feeling confident enough to just walk in and hide in plain sight? Or do we take the stealthy approach? While Neve is all for stealth, Tarquin prefers the closer look. So a first major choice presents itself:

Follow Neve and observe the proceedings from above, quietly gathering the information you need.

Follow Tarquin and disguise yourself as an attendant, getting a much closer look at the proceedings.

So I’m feeling a little brave right now. I think my Mercar would try to do the bold approach to get better results, even if it means a higher risk. For this playthrough, I’m choosing to follow Tarquin and let myself be disguised. Neve begrudgingly follows along.

Entering the Coliseum

A few minutes later, Mercar, Neve, and Tarquin approach the Coliseum gates in disguise. Tarquin wears his Templar armour, while Mercar and Neve are dressed as mages of the Legion.

Once we enter the arena, we have the chance to explore it for a little while. Doing so allows us to encounter the following:

We can have an early chat with Magister Zara Renata, who will, of course, be very relevant later, along with her lackeys Felicia and Calivan, all of whom are prominent members of the Venatori. Neve is able to make that connection due to Felicia’s brother Livius having so notoriously attempted to corrupt the Wardens at Adamant Fortress in DAI.

We may encounter Magister Bataris, alongside his son Albin and get early hints of just how far the Venatori corruption runs.

If we make a good enough persuasion attempt at the Templar Captain guarding the entrance to a basement, we shall enter it and discover the prisoners and slaves intended for some heinous affair. Here, and only here, if we perform this correct dialogue choice, and being a human mage, unfortunately, certainly helps here, we get to see that our father, Charon Mercar, is among the imprisoned. And the worst of it all? He doesn’t even recognise you. Actually none of the slaves and prisoners react in any way, as all of them seem to be under some sort of spell. As we look closer, we can see that all of them have strange spiked collars around their necks, filled with blood. This is blood magic that keeps them entranced. If we want to risk it, we have time to break our father’s collar and ensure that perhaps, he can escape. So we do just that.

The Imperator

Following our exploration of the Coliseum, we get streamed into a crowd of onlookers as the Imperator of Tevinter’s legions, the Supreme Legatus himself, Magister Aemilianus Laskaris, enters the centre of the arena.

We know from DAV that Tevinter has an Imperator, and the Imperator is not the same as the Archon in this context. While the Archon is the overall ruler, the Imperator is the highest military commander. Think of this guy as Tevinter’s version of Loghain. Laskaris also happens to be one of the loudest voices responsible for forcing the Lucerni out of the Magisterium.

Laskaris delivers a speech in which he proclaims just how bad Tevinter is faring against the Antaam. Here we get some early insight into the fact that a large chunk of the Qunari army broke off and is now bearing down on Antiva and Rivain. However, a large part of it remained and is following the Arishok into battle against the Imperium. And even against this broken Antaam, the Legions are starting to fail.

Laskaris cites lost cities such as Ventus, Carastes, and Neromenian as evidence for the desperate situation Tevinter is now facing. Therefore, something must be done. Something drastic. He presents, to the gathered onlookers, the Salvatio Initiative. Basically, all unpurchased slaves and prisoners of war are to be given to Tevinter’s legions, where Laskaris and the Legates serving under him will perform blood magic rituals to turn them into mindless but ravaging soldiers against the Antaam. Dangerous cannon fodder essentially. He will use tonight’s demonstration to convince the gathered members of the Magisterium to pass a law that will officially permit Tevinter’s legions to use blood magic. Well, we know, Tevinter has always used blood magic behind closed doors, but this will mean that all safety measures are off, all precautions, all careful attempts at hiding it. And the worst part is: since slaves are considered nothing but tools, it won’t even be seen as unethical by the large portion of conservative Senate members. And prisoners of war? Qunari? Who cares about them anyway, right? This is the darkness and true corruption permeating Tevinter. This is exactly why the Shadow Dragons exist to bring back the light.

Several doors open and Laskaris directs all slaves and prisoners to be brought forth.  They are all wearing the blood collars. Upon the Imperator’s command, him and several blood mages under his leadership, activate the blood collars and turn the slaves and prisoners into an absolute frenzy. A battle erupts in which the sheer destructive power of the now-mindless fighters is demonstrated.

Mercar now has a choice to make, and it is the biggest one there is in the prologue:

Do we stealthily fight the blood mages and try to rescue the innocent mind-controlled people without blowing our cover? You do, however, risk your father dying.

Do we rush in headfirst and fight Laskaris head-on, saving your father but maybe dooming more innocents and risking exposure?

Do we put our personal emotional interest above the greater good or vice versa? Well, because we broke our father’s collar earlier, we can at least assume that he’s going to be able to fight for himself with a clear head, so let’s focus on the blood mages in a stealthy manner.

Neve and Tarquin quickly take us behind the scenes as the crowd watchers in apt interest. There are five blood mages, including Laskaris, who need to be dealt with. Neve takes one half, Tarquin the other, while you have a go at Laskaris himself. You are masked so he won’t know it’s you.

While Neve and Tarquin successfully dismantle two blood mages each, we sneak right up to Laskaris and try to either knock him out or backstab him altogether. This results in the same outcome but tells a lot about Mercar’s personality. Do we kill this guy and end it now? Or do we try and incapacitate him so that he can still be of use for the future?

Regardless, Laskaris sees it coming and engages in a boss battle against us. It’s a tough battle, one that we are logically meant to lose. If we get Laskaris down to 0HP, miraculously so unless we play on Storyteller mode, the cutscene will slightly change but the outcome remains largely the same.

Laskaris lashes out and wounds us, causing us to fall down, bleeding, losing our mask, exposing ourselves to Laskaris, while the slaves and prisoners stage a mad revolt around us, forcing the gathered magisters to flee the scene. But because we freed our father from his collar, he comes rushing in to save us, engaging Laskaris in a one-on-one duel. Despite “only” being Soporati, he puts up quite a fight with his huge two-hander. We want to help him, desperately so, but we are just too weak. Laskaris is impressed by Charon’s strength, but ultimately, deals him a mortal wound. Just before Laskaris turns to finish us off, he is struck in the shoulder by…Bianca!

Varric steps into the fray and fires off a row of bolts against the Imperator, allowing Neve and Tarquin to take us away as we pass out. As they do so, the Viper appears and casts a spell that shrouds the whole arena in fog.

Back at the Shadow Lair

We awaken in the Shadow Lair and are greeted by Varric. It turns out that he was using this whole mission to assess us from the background, to determine if we are the one he’s looking for. And he decides that, yes, we are. Laskaris, the Venatori, all of this is just one puzzle piece of something much greater. We can press Varric on what this could possibly be, but he won't tell us just yet. Instead, he tells us that we should disappear. And he might just be able to help with that. We can be incredibly outrageous about this. I just discovered the biggest plot to endanger slaves ever since the Magister Sidereal tore open the Veil to reach the Golden City! I can’t just leave right now to pursue something I don't even know about!

At this point, Maevaris joins us and agrees that Mercar has to disappear for a while, now that Laskaris knows who we are. We can’t be seen with the Shadow Dragons for the time being. Doing so would just endanger the whole cause.

Reluctantly or readily, that depends on our personality, we concede that there is sense in Varric’s words. Varric advises us to adopt a codename as well, like so many agents of the Inquisition did back in the day. Mercar thinks for a moment, reflects on the most recent events, and decides on “Rook”. Varric approves. “The strongest piece on the chessboard, I like it.”

Afterwards we get a final chance to talk to the members of the Shadow Dragons before we depart, and get a last look at the Undercity. Neve returns to Dock Town to keep an eye on Laskaris and the slave rings, as well as search for any Venatori ties.

What follows is a cutscene where Rook and Varric depart the Shadow Lair and leave Minrathous altogether. One last time, Rook looks at the city he swore to fight for, then turns around and follows Varric into the unknown.

And that’s as far as we’ll go today! I hope you enjoyed my little hypothetical take on a potential Shadow Dragon origin mission. Of course, not everything is refined and perfect, but I hope you still got the overall gist of what I was going for! Next time, we shall focus on a potential prologue for the Grey Wardens! Stay tuned!

Rewriting Veilguard Part 3 - The Grey Wardens

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi! I really like your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a Yandere!Platonic 1st Years (+Grim) with an Eri!Reader?

How would they feel learning of her abused, trauma, and her unfamiliarity with general society and social norms? (Who’s looking murderous when they see just the scars littered around her arms and legs when her bandages are removed?)

Though it’s a whole different story when she says she sees her power as nothing but a ‘curse’, and her existence a ‘burden’ that only makes others suffer? All because of the man named ‘Overhaul’, the one who did this so her? (Who’s about to go feral when she admits she doesn’t remember how to smile?)

But she starts to become more positive thanks to Grim and slowly the others (She likes Grim and is very sparkly eyed because he talks, breaths fire and thinks he’s amazing)

Imagine when she says she made a friend all on her very own who’s ‘like her’, though they lightly chastise her that she shouldn’t talk with strangers (It’s Malleus, they’re both lonely, have horns she has 1, while Malleus has 2, have an incredible power that’s very dangerous, and they’re unfamiliar/slow with society)

Eri Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’ve been through so much….so you’ve been told. The pain, the heartbreak, the constant voice in your head that has guilt weighing on your little heart. Your transportation to Twisted Wonderland couldn’t come at a better time. They’re going to welcome you cage you to this new world more than willing to spoil you to your hearts content:

Grim 

“Oi oi servant they all think we’re monsters!”

“...yeah?”

“Yeah! So we gotta show them we’re gonna be the greatest mages in here!”

“Oh….okay!”

He’s the perfect chaotic companion

He teaches you to allow yourself to do what you want

Granted his guidance isn’t all knowing

No matter how tasty Heartslabyul’s tarts are you shouldn’t eat them everytime you visit — especially without permission

Either way you’re learning to forgive yourself and allow you to have fun

And leave it to Grim to say whatever snarky thing you’d like to say when your big-brothers get in the way

“Nyeh! You won’t be able to do anything against my flames, nyah!”

Ace Trappola

“Hey if I catch you moping about that plague doctor guy, I’ll sock ya in the head!”

“Ace?!”

“I-i-i won’t!”

In a weird way you’re so used to being bullied (by kai) that you tend to take his bully-affection to heart

You know he cares, he just won’t tell you often

He reminds you of a certain blonde…

It also makes you more privy to his very willing desire to steamroll over anyone he deems a problem for you

“I think he meant that as a joke, Ace…”

“Joke schmoke, I warned you, you stain! I’m putting you in the medical wing.”

“Ace, please!” 

Deuce Spade

“(Y/n), did you eat today? Are you feeling well? Do you need me to carry you!”

Mother hen of the group

He’s hovering close behind even when you don’t see him

Always making sure you’re safe and happy as can be

He’s teeming with anxiety if he’s not watching you himself

Even worse if you get hurt accidentally or on purpose

Now he’s Mama bear totally bearing the claws to protect you

He’s not going to leave you to defend yourself

Especially when your abilities hinge on your mental state

He’s trying his best

“Are you doing the breathing techniques Crewel recommended? Where’s your paper bag?”

Jack Howl

“Hello little one.”

“Hi.”

“Would you…like to sit on my shoulders?”

“Yes!”

Your #1 guard dog

Doesn’t have to worry considering Deuce is freaking out for him

He’ll be the sane voice of reason because Ace isn’t anywhere close to reliable in his eyes

Naturally he entrances you with his tail and overall dog-like personality

But don’t forget he’s got the bite force of a wolf that he’s not afraid to use if he deems fit

“Pup, don’t stop yourself from having fun or being…young. I–we will keep you safe.”

Epel Felmier

“You’re so pretty.”

“...Thanks.”

You’re the only one who can get away with calling him that

And he loves nothing more than escaping Vil to find out what other sweet makes you smile sweetly 

He’s also one of the first to join Ace as part of the self-proclaimed protection committee

He’s also one of the first to suggest taking it further than a mere beatdown

Anything for his new little sibling

“If there’s no body…there’ll be no problems.”

Sebek Zigvolt

“TINY HORNED HUMAN! WHERE IS YOUR DIASOMNIA PIN!” 

“Uhm…Ace took it from me…said it was unfair.”

“THAT FOOL. COME CHILD I SHALL BESTOW UPON YOU THE PIN AGAIN.”

Is definitely apart of a brainwash committee of his own and is insistent you become Diasomnia’s new mascot…under Malleus of course

His loudness sometimes scares you off but he means well

And will no doubt join the others if a few heads need to roll

“Rest easy, child. On my watch, no one will harm you.”

[aheathen-conceivably]

Far atop the dusty downtown of Strangerville stood what felt like a different world. During the decades of the gold rush Eastern settlers had flooded the town and the settlements around it, displacing the people of the land even further as they dug into it for their own ends. The ones who succeeded ended up here, in Shady Acres, where they could look atop the empire they drilled into the ground.

Now, most of the houses sat abandoned, left to the disrepair of time and the harsh desert sands as the promise of ever greater riches took their owners further West to California and Oregon. There were little signs of life on the streets other than a lone truck making its way up the hillside, inhabited by two people who still weren’t quite comfortable being alone together anymore.

Gio directed Jo to pull to the edge of the cliff face, overlooking the town they had just driven from. She struggled to get the turn just right, but it was better than her other practice attempts, so he gave her a quiet smile of approval as she shifted the gear into park. Even from inside the metal truck they could hear the wind howling. It had been their constant companion on these near silent journeys up this road the past few weeks. 

He knew that the road further West was filled with places like this, miles and miles of winding curves and jaw dropping heights that would take a steady hand on the wheel. Antoine had taken one look inside the car and immediately refused to learn how to drive it. So burying whatever remaining fears and anger he had deep inside, Gio had gotten in the passenger seat with Jo and offered to teach her how to drive.

With every lesson, he knew that he was essentially giving her the tools she needed to leave him, the one thing he had been so afraid of that he was willing to lie and cheat to prevent it from happening. Now he felt like all he could do was sit by hope every inch he gave or silent acquiescence would serve to bind her closer to him rather than push her further away. Still in the back of his mind his fears kept nagging, so much so that as the day for her to leave came closer he couldn’t stay quiet anymore.

The wind kept howling, threatening to drown out his voice as he reached toward her. “Jo, mi raccomando…”

She braced herself for the same apology about his lie over the loan that she already had memorized. What more did he want her to say? She had stayed, hadn’t she? Stayed outwardly for Violette but really, quietly and inwardly, for all of them. Because she loved them all, but more than anything, because she loved him.

Only how was she supposed to tell him that? That she had fought back every instinct to leave so that she could stay with him, even if the price to pay to do so was that she would never trust him again. Because he had shown her that she had been wrong about him. He could hurt her, just as well as any other man she had ever known could. Except now that she had let him inside, now that she loved him, he could hurt her all the more. So she had to compensate somehow, to regain some sort of ground to stand on or she would be left weak to him doing it all over again.

“You don’t need to answer, okay?” Her head stayed turned just as he knew it would, and her hand went to the wheel as though the steady the car from the roar of the desert wind. It grew stronger as his voice grew more emotional, shaking the car and whipping across the top of the mesa.

“I can’t make you forgive me for any of what happened, but I’m sorry I didn’t support you and Antoine going on tour, or even really put you in the position where you could have chosen to do it for yourself and not to save us from some choice I made. I just…every time you walk out the door I’m afraid you won’t come home, that you’ll find someone or something else and I’ll never see you again.”

The sun was hitting directly in her eyes, mingling there with the stinging of tears that she tried her hardest to hold back. Only it was too bright, and she couldn’t possibly fight it, so one small tear after another rolled down her face while she stayed staring at it.

Whatever else he said after that was inconsequential as she let the sunbeams dry her unexpected tears; because he had already broken through her carefully constructed armor, made brittle by anger, restlessness, and love. But he couldn’t know that, or it would make everything she had done up to this point meaningless. The portion of the farm that was now hers, betraying Antoine, Zelda’s pained resolve, Violette’s angry confusion. She endured it all in some effort to regain control and hope for her own life; only it was so tenuous that she was convinced a few stray tears could undermine it all, so she made sure her face was completely dry before she turned to face him.

By the time she did so he had gone quiet and only a sliver of his profile could be seen. The rest of him was pretending to study the desert landscape, visibly struggling to adhere to his promise that he wouldn’t speak again until she answered him.

As it always did in moments like this, his vulnerability astounded her. He had meant every word he said, and he had spoken them without pause, trusting her to meet him halfway despite her track record of never having done so before. He had signed over a portion of his lease with a clenched fist only to climb into the passenger seat of his own truck, giving patient instructions with an anxious edge as she drove them further and further from town. Every choice he had made was in pursuit of some twisted idea of love, all the while she was guided by some nebulous idea of strength, the undeniable compulsion to never feel trapped again even if her own love had tried to temper it time and time again.

Jo reached over to touch his face and turn it toward her own. He gave no hesitation as he leaned into her touch, no questions and no judgement for the streaks on her face that must have still been visible from up so close. “Gio, look at me. I’m going to come home, okay?”

She left out that she wished this wasn’t home, some place she had no connection to or hope for, one filled with harsh desert winds barely keeping failed dreams afloat. A land of drought and struggle so incessant that it had almost worn down even her will. Some days it still felt like it was trying to accomplish what it nearly had when she was afloat in that bed, miserable and useless.

But shielded from it all inside the confines of his truck, with only his earnest expression and kind but well worn hands to anchor her down, suddenly it did feel like home. Or at least he did. So in a rare moment, she spoke without a single ounce of pretense or calculation, letting the need to keep herself in control float away on the howling wind. “I promise you, I’m always going to come home. No matter what.”

Previous / Next

[babygirl-riley]

The Riley’s

You surprise a new Riley in the family.

“He’s a four legged tracking machine.”

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Warnings: swearing and fluff

You couldn’t resist, you were alone for two months now. Which is pretty normal for how Simon’s job is. So you went to a couple of shelters, animal shelters. Originally it was to check out what type of dogs were out there. Simon and you talked about it before, that if there was a dog present that it would not be some small yappy one.

Simon hated the small dogs, thought they were to tiny and he could squash them by accident when walking around. Which was fair, he was a large man in stature. So just looking for ideas wasn’t suppose to have the end goal you got.

It was a loud shelter many dogs barking and howling. It broke your heart to see them, some were cowering in the corner others up against the fence. You would look at the names Sparky, Jack, Velma, Cupcake. Really odd names. However there was one that made you stop in your tracks.

Riley. You looked into the cage to find a German Shepard, at first he was cautious on when you stopped. Glaring and still. “He used to be a military dog actually,” The woman said behind you. “We might have to put him down soon cause he is getting aggressive.”

You smiled and turned to her. “Can I walk him?”

She stared at you for a minute and shook her head. “I don’t know he isn’t for sale.”

You chuckled. “No worries just one walk and if he snaps then don’t worry about it.”

The lady shrugged and walked to grab a leash. You turned back to the dog who still hasn’t moved. Just staring, you kneeled down and looked at him. Tried to read his eyes. Curious was behind them yet cautious at the same time. “Hey bud,” You whispered. “It’s alright, I’m here to take you home.”

The dog stared unsure before sitting down waiting until the door opened. You watched as the lady cautiously took the dog and handed the leash to you. You grabbed it and he walked with you, he was next to you the whole time. When you looked at him he would look away but when you didn’t he sniffed you.

It reminded you of Simon, cautious and curious. When you both started to date Simon was standoffish yet caring at the same time. You knew nothing of him until damn near 2 years of the relationship. Didn’t know his family was killed until marriage. You could tell how similar the personality between Simon and Riley really was. You guess that’s what the military can do to you. Give you horrible things to twist your mind into think no one is trusted.

Not once for the hour you were with him he was aggressive. You pulled the lady aside and talked about taking him home. She explained that he doesn’t like children or other pets. Luckily for him neither of those were there, she explained that the personality would come out and she expected for him to be back.

You negotiated and bought him, he followed you to the car, hopping in normally. The drive home was nice, he sat and watched the world go by. “Ya know your new dad is military,” You spoke looking over for Riley to be laying down. “You two will get along just fine.”

Riley was to himself a lot of the time, you would feed him and taking him for walks. He wasn’t loving at first until 2 weeks later. He would play with you and cuddle up to you when it was time for bed. Would growl if he felt someone was too close to you when walking. Eventually you tested to see how trained he was. Learned he knew the basic things but also knew how to do protection tricks.

Simon didn’t expect when he pulled home to hear a deep growl at the door when putting his keys in. He wanted to surprise you if being home early, Simon even checked if it was the right house. The growl was deep, a warning. It was dark out, late very very late. So maybe he was hearing things, it wasn’t until he heard you tell something to sit.

“Simon!” You yelled swinging in for a hug. He hugged you back but all he could see is that dog. The dog that was glaring at him for a moment.

“What’s that?”

You turned smiling before biting down on his lower lip. “So I got lonely,” You stated walking over to Riley petting his head. “I wasn’t going to buy a dog but something ironic happened.”

Simon watched as the dog scooted closer to you. Still cautious of him, Simon was just a big man, he rarely wore his mask at home. Takes it off in his truck unless he was extremely tired. “What is it?” He said again.

“His name is Riley.”

Simon was shocked, you were joking, there is no way his name was that. That would be very strange and interesting. “Really?”

You nodded and grabbed his dog tag and his name was engraved. He was a beautiful dog. He walked up to the dog, at first the dog froze then sniffed his hand. Simon let it do whatever as he growled lowly before walking away. You sucked in your lips. “He will get used to you.”

Simon hoped it would be awful to have a pet that tolerated him. For the couple of weeks he was there, Riley slowly got closer to him. Riley followed him everywhere, bathroom, back hard when mowing, on the side of his bed. All of it. Hell Riley would watch football with Simon.

Riley and Simon started to do more training. Taught him how to search, would hide little things of yours, eventually you as Riley searched. Slowly Riley would leave with Simon to the base, slowly would not be at home.

You rolled your eyes humorously. “He hated you.”

Simon scoffed. “He was shy.”

You laughed placing the noodles on each plate. You frowned. “You promise you both come back safe? Intact?”

Simon frowned as well. He knew how you felt when you both talked about what would Riley do, stay at home. That was your only thing, he didn’t need to go out and fight anymore. He did it when he was younger. However Riley has been anxious been doing things that Simon noticed that the other canines would do. Especially when they retired.

Price watched Simon and Riley together on the base. Riley was a good tracking dog and really good at attacking as well. So Price pulled Simon aside and asked how he felt about Riley joining 141. Simon said he would love to but he would have to ask the Misses.

At first you walked away from him, angry of course. Simon knew not to follow you, that he got you that upset to retreat to the bedroom. So he waited. Until you came out and asked what Riley would do. He explained that he would only go on missions that needed the enemy to be found. Capture or kill.

You would listen sit and made tea for both of you as you both negotiated on what would happen. You sighed again. “It would only be for those missions. Some I will know ahead some I won’t. Just like normally.” Simon explained holding her hands. “Ya seen him. He walks around the house like he needs something. He just got into the planets last week.” Simon explained.

You looked outside remembering him bringing in a whole bush of flowers. Dirt and a fucked up backyard. Riley would start destroying things after one paw of his stepped into the base. He wanted more. Needed more. More energy. You frowned looking down at Riley. Riley wagged his tail looking up at you.

“Dogs don’t need to fight the wars Si.” You whispered petting Riley.

Simon nodded his head. “I agree lovie, unfortunately he has already been trained it wouldn’t be his firs’. He would be a good asset.”

You watched as Riley licked your hand. Like he was reassuring you, like he was telling you it was fine. “Alright, only for those missions. But I next time Simon I am getting a yippy and you can’t do shit.”

Simon shook his head chuckling lowly. “No I don’t think so sweethear’”

Simon thought you were kidding but three months later, you brought home a tiniest dog. Yorkie of all dogs. Simon now knows not to take the dogs with him to base. Well Riley fell in love with the little bugger. Eventually Simon did as well having both dogs near him.

You came home from grocery shopping and while walking in you saw the dogs and him sleeping. Riley laid at the end of his feet while Hallie laid on his chest. You scoffed, pulling out your phone, clicking the picture. You smiled as you sent it to Price stating you will have a drug locator too.

[eightmakesonebraincell]

dogboy!yuyu headcanons

genre: bf!yunho x gn!reader, fluffiest fluffy fluff, crack

length: 1.8k

a/n: this spontaneously wrote itself after reading bai’s (@hwaightme) catboy!hwa headcanons, dreaming about dogboy!yuyu, and then being triggered by the braincell i share with yumi (@sorryimananti-romantic) <3 also scroll through to the end for a surprise 🐹

taglist: @lavishloving

YUYU :’((((

the cutest fluffiest ball of energy to ever light up your world <33

your heart just goes :’) whenever you see him, no matter what he’s doing

PUPPY EYES

THE MOST. LETHAL. PUPPY. EYES. EVER.

at first he doesn’t know how dangerous his puppy eyes are

he’s scared of doing the wrong thing or disobeying your orders because he thinks you might not want him anymore or kick him out :(((

he’s so precious he deserves to be protected from every bad thing in the world :((

but then once he learns that you love him more than he can even fathom

and he can literally get away with anything??

especially if he just whips out his puppy eyes and cocks his head to one side??

PLEASE

yunho is 🥺 emoji personified

he stamps his little paws in excitement when you approach him

loves it when you caress the space between his eyes he gets all sleepy 

EAR SCRATCHES

he loves when you scratch behind his ear or under his chin or on his belly

aka scratches anywhere.

and he has the fluffiest and floppiest ears ever <333

they flop up and down whenever he runs it’s so cute omg

and he loves to chase his own tail

he MUST win the battle with himself grr

he doesn’t realise how big he is, both as a pupper AND a human

he runs at you from a distance and attacks you in a hug 🥺

but when he’s really excited and leaps up into your arms it feels like you’re getting slammed by a moving brick wall

you both definitely go down with an oof (mainly from you)

but who can be annoyed when you look up and he’s all :D :D :D and wagging tails on top of you

you two play a lot because he has so much energy

like you throw treats up in the air and he jumps to catch them and it’s like he’s challenging you at this point

you both have this thing where you put your hand on his paw, then he moves to place his paw on top of your hand, then you place your hand on top again and you just make an endless tower of hands

it never ends. it is A COMPETITION.

yall also have barking competitions where you’re just howling at each other lolll

because of that, your neighbour sometimes asks how your dogs (plural) are going and you have to make up a second dog because you’re not about to admit that it’s actually you howling back

yunho ALWAYS gets the zoomies at the most random times

in the morning when you’ve literally just pulled yourself out of bed and half asleep?

he does zoomies around the living room

nearly trips you over

at 3am when you’ve just finished your work and you’re stumbling your way to bed

he gets the zoomies in your bedroom and jumps all over your bed

SPEAKING OF BED

his favourite place is bed

but your bed specifically

you don’t need a heater in winter because he loves loves LOVES to snuggle with you and he’s super warm and fluffy

there’s lots and lots of cuddle sessions ofc, especially when you’re feeling down

he’s always there and he’ll like, give you space at first and then slowly inch towards you :((

sometimes you get nightmares that you’re suffocating and you wake up to yunho’s dog butt sitting on your face LOL

or you’ll wake up to his tail swishing in your face because he’s dreaming about steak

he likes playing in puddles and mud a little toooo much

when it rains you dress him up in a cute little yellow duckie raincoat

you’ve tried the matching puppy gumboots too but he just shakes them off

loves to go splish splash with his paws in all the puddles he comes across

and when he walks away he leaves a trail of his paw prints <3

omg when it comes to shower time after playing?

BRAT 

a cute brat though you could never ever get angry at him

he makes you chase him through the house and you’re shrieking about the little paw prints he’s leaving on the floor

(he helps you clean them up afterwards)

when you finally wrestle him into the bathtub he huffs until you fill it with bubbles and add his toys

you most definitely have to take your own shower after his because of how soapy your clothes get

yunho LOVES his toys so much

it takes so long to convince him to let you put them in the wash

because as soon as you take them away from him? the puppy eyes come out

and you have to be firm and tell him that the toys just need a bit of cleaning, they’ll come back to you smelling super nice, it’s just for a little while

he still sits in front of the washing machine watching the whole cycle because he doesn’t trust the machine

he protecc

whenever you’re working or busy doing something, he’ll come up and nudge you every other minute so you play with him

he’ll drop a toy at your feet so you throw it for him

or he’ll tug on your pants and whine a little for your attention

you’re definitely weak for him so you almost always end up giving in

do you walk him or does he walk you?

he gets excited and darts off whenever he sees other people or other dogs because he wants to go and say hello :’))

and even though he loves meeting the other dogs, if you find another cute dog and turn your attention towards it or compliment it he’s gonna be all 🥺🥺🥺

he’s built to protect you like whenever you go out he’ll valiantly be on the lookout for any dangers like lizards that get too close or plastic bags that are flying towards you

LOL sometimes you can’t bring yunho out with you, and when you get home after bumping into another dog on the way back, yunho will immediately be able to sniff out their smell on your clothes

and he’ll be like >:((

how dare you >:((

i demand head pats and ear scratches as compensation >:((

he melts as soon as you give him a kiss though

when he’s human, literally nothing changes

he has endless energy and he literally skips and bounds along as he walks with you

the man does not. stand. still.

he will JUMP down the last four or five stairs and give you a mini heart attack

you scold him like you’re going to get hurt !!!!! but he just grins at you before running ahead again

omg he gives the most crushing and loving hugs <333

your favourite ones are when you’re running towards him and he has his arms wide open and he catches you as you leap into his arms

and he holds your waist firmly as he spins you two around and you’re both just all wide smiles and hearty giggles (PLS IM SO SOFT RN)

yunho eats like there’s no tomorrow

you cook and plate up your food and turn around to get yourself a glass of water or something and when you turn back around half his plate is already gone and he’s like :D

and you’re like ???? where ?? did all the food go?? 

when you bake you’ve got to keep a close eye on him he’s like a CHILD

he’ll steal the chocolate chips off the counter and you have to take the packet from him and tell him that you need them for the cookies

but he gets a handful of them anyway as compromise

it’s the puppy eyes i’m telling you they stay with him even when he shifts

“no, yuyu, the cookies are still hot you need to wait”

:(

“stop looking at me like that they won’t cool any faster”

:( 

when it’s bedtime he dives under the covers with you

he drapes himself over you like he does when he’s a dog except he is much heavier when he isn’t a dog and you’re lowkey struggling to breathe under him

and he’s like oh no !! i forgot !!

and he’ll lie on his back and pull you so that you lie on top of him instead :’))

doesn’t matter if he’s dog or human, he LOVES CUDDLES

sometimes he decides that he wants head scratches too and he’ll bring your hand up to his head so that you play with his soft blonde locks

he also peppers your face with kisses like non-stop

he makes it his personal goal to make you giggle and laugh from all the kisses he’s giving you

because he is all about that physical affection and touch, perhaps even more when he’s a human

when you’re home he HAS to be touching you in one way or another like he’ll have a hand on your thigh or he’s draped over you in a back hug or you’re sitting in his lap

and it’s so cute when you see the same mannerisms and habits he has as a dog when he’s human

he’ll sit there and huff at all the right times when you tell him about your long day

(which was one of the first things you picked up on that yunho wasn’t your typical dog because when you ranted to him it was like he could understand you perfectly)

and like he still has his protective instincts, except when he’s a man he is The Man 

you tell him about some colleague at work who was nasty to you and he’ll be like WHO. LET ME GO BITE THEM

he definitely growls a little when he’s really protective like grrr >:(

lol but also when you two are playing games and he’s feeling competitive or he’s gaming on the computer he’ll unintentionally growl at you and sometimes you find it kinda hot ;)

with yunho there has never been a single dull moment

his laughter and cheeky antics just become a permanent part of your life <3

he only has eyes for you and they’re filled with love

he is THE GOODEST BOY PERIODT.

bonus: hamsterboy!joong

the D: hamster backed up into a corner meme

raises his little hands when he's scared

will freeze standing up for no apparent reason

literally faints or unalives at the slightest inconvenience

like if you sneeze too loud

or if he falls off the little platform in his cage

you’ll never catch him running in the hamster wheel - that is solely for napping in

he also likes to nap in the igloo homes you put there for him

if you lift one up while he’s under it he’ll run for his life towards another shelter LOL

shoves everything into his mouth when he eats

he complains when his food bowl is empty

but if you try to take the bowl to fill it up? he tries to bite you

no take >:( only fill >:(

tries to look aggressive but he’s the smollest lil bean to exist 🥺

what makes you think he’s any different as a human?

LOL

the end

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 3 - Head in the clouds

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings for: drunk minor character, violence by a minor character to reader (she's okay!)

Thanks so much for the response to this story so far, so glad people are enjoying it. As always I appreciate reblogs and comments. Thanks! Also sorry for anything I get wrong about biker clubs/rules/rituals etc - just pretend that's how it works in this specific AU!

You’d been working at the bar for a few weeks and had just started to find your stride. You’d already whipped Tom, the blundering bartender from that first night, into shape by teaching him a few tricks of the trade. You’d even showed him how to make a couple of simple cocktails. Not that they were ordered much in a biker bar, but always good to have them in your back pocket. Sure, Tom would spill the syrup all over the bar and break at least one glass every shift…but he was trying. He was the brother of one of Bucky’s buddies and it was almost sweet the way Bucky wanted to help him out – even if it meant turning a blind eye to his often less-than-competent performance.

You’d also gotten to know more of the club and had learned about some aspects of the motorcycle club (or MC as they referred to it) and how it worked.

There was Steve of course, the no-nonsense blonde from that first night, Bucky’s righthand man. He was Vice President. Steve had been a little frosty with you initially but had warmed up and the two of you were becoming friends. You understood he was just a little protective, and that meant he was careful with outsiders and like to vet them first. He was strategic and careful, always one step ahead to ensure that the club were safe from potential threats. He didn’t always say much, but it was clear you’d know if he had a problem with you – so you settled into a quiet understanding with each other.

Bruce was the Treasurer, he was sweet and smart and easy to talk to. Sam was the Road Captain, he was amiable and easy-going, he teased you a little, but it wasn’t with any malice. You gave it right back to him, of course.

Nat, the beautiful redhead you’d seen playing darts, was the Sergeant-At-Arms, which apparently meant being the enforcer and keeping things in order. This had initially surprised you until you saw Nat in action whipping them into shape after some of them had a bit too much to drink one poker night at the bar – she was slightly terrifying, taking no shit from anyone. The whole MC respected (and were slightly terrified of) her… (maybe even Bucky). But the two of you got on well and she was sweet as pie to you, and you were always happy to have another friend.

Thor was the club Secretary, possibly the largest man you’d ever seen – well named. Until now you’d always associated secretaries with typing and pencil skirts – no more. Although seeing Thor in a pencil skirt would certainly be something.

Parker…or Peter, as you found out was his first name, was a recent prospect who had become a full member. He was still finding his way a little, and the others were still ribbing him, but he was sweet and enthusiastic, and you liked him a lot. The dart incident was all forgiven, although he still tiptoed around you a little despite your insistence everything was fine between the two of you.

You were still getting to know the other members – Scott, Clint, Loki, Drax to name a few…Then there were the hang-arounds – not members. Some were prospects but some were just buddies of the club. But Steve was very discerning about who they associated with, he would weed out any sycophants or creeps who just wanted the glory of an MC on their side. It was a whole new world, and you were still learning.

There were also a gaggle of girls who hung out at the bar most nights. They were sweet, some of them were involved with various members, some just wanted to be. All very pretty, very fun. They would drink and play bar games and keep the mood light. Perfectly nice to you, decent tippers.

It hadn’t bypassed your notice that Bucky, as President, was their ultimate target. They’d follow him around, laugh uproariously at his jokes and hang off his every word. Amber, who you’d sussed was their de facto leader of sorts, seemed to have staked some sort of claim. All blonde hair and long legs, skin that looked like an Instagram filter and tonight wearing a, frankly, gravity defying halter top. She’d give the other girls a certain look if they got too close to him and they’d dutifully scatter. Your instincts told you she was not someone you wanted on your bad side.

Bucky didn’t exactly deflect her advances. He’d grin at her with amusement when she would drape her long-manicured nails across his arm, whisper something in her ear that would make her giggle and playfully bat him away.

Which you were fine with.

Obviously.

It wasn’t like you had developed a huge crush on Bucky since you’d been working here, or anything like that.

You didn’t steal glances at him when he moved across the bar, his large, toned arms always bare under his kutte – one flesh, one metal. Some threadbare tee worn underneath, straining against his chest and impossibly flat stomach. Didn’t notice the way he’d absentmindedly brush his hair back out of his eyes, scoop it into a loose bun or small ponytail as he chatted. Definitely didn’t feel a little rush of giddiness when he’d lean over you to get to the cash register and you’d get a whiff of his cologne…

“Sugar? You still with us…?”

Your head snapped towards the intrusion, Bucky’s smile tearing you away from your little daydream as he leaned over the bar. Sometimes it seemed like he could read your thoughts.

“Uh, sorry,” you recovered, wiping down the bar with a washcloth. “Was just thinking I need to do inventory”.

He chuckled, “you work too hard, Sug”.

You smiled at one another for a moment before you saw Amber snake her hand around Bucky’s arm. “Buuucky”, she whined. “Come play pool with us,” she said pleadingly.

He looked at her then back at you, opening his mouth to say something before-

“Can I get a beer here or what??”

The three of you glanced down the bar towards the voice. A broad man in a trucker hat stood sullenly at the other end of the bar, gesturing dramatically at his empty bottle.

“Of course, sir, coming right up”, you chirped a little more cheerily than he deserved.

Bucky frowned. You knew that frown well already. He didn’t like the demanding customers who liked to bark their orders.

“It’s fine,” you told him softly as you pulled another bottle from the fridges. “I got this, you go play pool”.

He continued to frown but seemed to relax slightly at your words, looking over at the man sternly as he got up and Amber squealed excitedly at her victory.

Ugh.

“Just come get me if he gives you any shit” he said harshly as Amber tugged on him.

“You know I’ll give him shit right back if he does,” you winked.

“See? She’s a pro. Let’s GO” moaned Amber as she smiled sweetly at you before shoving him towards the pool table.

Bucky looked back at you for a second before the others cheered at his arrival and Sam handed him a cue. Amber had her hand on his back, rubbing it up and down.

You sighed and moved to hand the new beer over to the customer. You smiled and placed it down in front of him and in response he wordlessly tossed a bill from his wallet onto the bar. Charming. You peeled the money off and gave him his change from the register, then did your best to look busy as you kept an eye on the activity by the pool table.

Honestly, you didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were a grown woman, Bucky was your boss and you’d be out of here in no time anyway. Why were you feeling jealous of another woman about a man like this? You weren’t at school anymore. Grow up. The house was coming along nicely, it wouldn’t matter for much longer. You’d get over your crush and move on. You got the impression Bucky had a whole rotation of women…and that was perfectly fine. None of your business. Everyone knows getting involved with your boss is a terrible idea anyway…especially when that boss heads up a biker gang.

The next few hours passed uneventfully with a solid but not overwhelmingly throng of customers, the occasional whoop and cheer from the pool table as the club played and showed off.  You chatted with Nat for a while as she perched on a bar stool, then Vis and Wanda came by to see you which was sweet of them. Over in the corner, Amber was treating Bucky like a soldier back from battle solely because he’d potted a few balls.

The bar thinned out and only a few customers remained. You were at the bar by yourself just refilling the straw holders when a slurred voice interrupted you.

“Another fuckin’ beer” said the demanding customer from earlier, barely able to keep upright as he slammed his hand onto the bar.

What? No way had you served him that much. He’d had about 4 beers all night…What on earth-

“Sir…” you responded as he swayed and wobbled.

Just then, a small glass bottle fell out of his jacket and clunked hard onto the wood below. Ah, yes. That’ll be the culprit.

Your eyes flickered to the gang across the room who hadn’t yet noticed the small disturbance. You were tempted to call them over, but you didn’t want them thinking you couldn’t handle a single drunk guy.

“Sir…you’ve had enough. You need to go home,” you admonished. “You’ve brought outside liquor in here too and I’m not serving you anymore. You need me to leave, alright? I can call you a cab if you need-”

“Another beer…” he repeated, as if you hadn’t said anything.

“Sir, I told you – no. Now please leave,” you folded your arms, the annoyance of dealing with him all evening boiling over into anger. Maybe a little Amber frustration was there too.

“Ano-”

“No,” you cut him off. “Enough. Please go…”

“Listen here, bitch…” he pointed a dirty fingernailed hand at you. “If you don’t get me another beer-”

“You’re not getting shit, so save us both the trouble and get the fuck out before I get Security to throw you out. Hell, I’ll do it myself if I must” you spat back.

He stared back at you agog, seemingly surprised by your change in attitude. The confusion quickly shifted to rage, and it took a moment for your reflexes to catch up with your brain as he suddenly curled his fingers around the discarded glass bottle and-

You ducked, but unfortunately, a tiny bit too slowly. The bottle bounced off your forehead and hit the bar, shattering and sending little shards of glass into your arm. You stepped backwards in surprise and stumbled, crying out in pain as your lower back hit the bar shelf behind you.

You heard the stampede a second later, a flurry of leather and denim enveloping the bar as the man seemed to levitate – but in actual fact he’d been grabbed by Thor and unceremoniously hauled up by his collar. You briefly heard him stumble apologies, but the sound faded fast as Thor pulled him towards the door, flanked by Sam and Steve.

“Oh babe, I’m sorry we left you” said Nat who was leaning down in front of you and checking out your injuries. “You’re okay. I promise”.

You looked down at them too, your arm was bleeding slightly but didn’t look too rough. You couldn’t see your head but could feel a little lump forming. You didn’t feel pain, not really. The adrenaline of the shock saw to that.

“Why didn’t you call us over?? Jesus Christ, Sugar” Bucky chastised as he jostled past Nat and delicately moved your hair out the way to look at your head. You widened your eyes in surprise as he moved his face to yours, measuring your reflexes with his finger in front of your vision.

“I didn’t realise he’d flip…he was just drunk” you mumbled, slightly dazed for more reason than one. “I just told him to leave. I’m fine…”

“No, you’re not, you’re bleeding,” Bucky scoffed, carefully inspecting the cut on your arm.  “And maybe concussed”.

“Bucky…” you frowned.

“Don’t ‘Bucky’ me. You could’ve got really hurt. Why are you bouncing customers? That’s our job”. His tone was angry, condescending.

“Jeez I misjudged it, okay?” you scowled. “He seemed like a mouthy drunk is all. Don’t talk to me like I’m a baby..”

“I’m not! I just-”

“You were busy! I didn’t wanna interrupt…”

“Just playing fuckin’ pool, Sug! Not too busy to stop you getting brained by a bottle…”

“Alright, break it up you two,” Nat interjected. “We don’t need more trouble tonight”.

Bucky scowled but shut up regardless.

She squeezed your hand. “Let me take you in the back, we’ll get you cleaned up. And then let’s get you home, alright?”

You smiled at her, grateful for her kindness.

“No…I’ll take her” Bucky said. “Get over here…”

“Bucky…” you said with insolence.

But he just ignored you, grabbing your hand from Nat’s and dragging you to the back room.

“Buuuck,” whined Amber from across the room. “We still gotta finish the game”.

“Sam can take my shots” Bucky grumbled, continuing to pull you along without looking up.

“But-”

“Amber, what?! Can’t you see I’m busy here?” he spat, looking daggers over at her. “Ask Sam”.

She went quiet, then pouted and harrumphed. Bucky ignored her and kept going.

“Fuck, Sug,” he muttered. “What are we gonna do with you?”

*

[xuchiya]

"his chérie." || song mingi

| genre: fluff. fluff. fluff | mention: timid. genitals. kissing. cursing

Song Mingi. He is that kid that is so timid, the smallest things scare him. From the teacher calling him because he dropped his pen and he would be shaking like a leaf towards his ears were always red whenever someone talked to him. He would squeak like a small duck whenever his name is mentioned or when he got caught doing something like doodling on his notebook. Most of the time, he is alone; never likes to interact nor the attention. 

“Hi!” Yet that caught your attention. His timid personality. So in conclusion, you befriended him even though it took a year and half (almost the point of giving up) to actually have him warm up to you. You gave yourself a pat on the back that day.

“Mi-Mingi.”

“I know … Song Mangi.”

“Tha-That is not … my name!” 

“It is now, Mangi.”

“Then … let me call you … chérie.”

“What? Cherry? DO I LOOK LIKE ANGER TO YOU?!”

“Ahh! n-no!”

Song Mingi. He is that kid who blushes on the mention of genitals during eighth grade and how babies were made. His ears were always the evidence. He would cover his eyes whenever a couple would kiss or look away whenever they would hold hands.

“Jeez, they’re just holding hands, what’s wrong with that?” 

“PDA du-duh!”

“You’re weird, Mangi.”

Song Mingi. He is that kid who you won’t expect to have such a drastic puberty hit. He went from a few inches smaller than you to almost the same height as a normal volleyball player. His muscles even grew, almost ripping the sleeves of his shirts so he went and changed to wearing long sleeves to cover them. He became more confident, a little bit noisy and a more outgoing person. He developed more of his personality, smiling more, overcoming his stuttering, he had been interacting with so many of your classmates; sharing the same music taste to doing a rap battle in front of the classroom or even going to the arcades.

“Hey chérie! We’re going to the arcade, do you wanna come?”

“Sure! I’ll beat you on street fighter, Mangi!”

Song Mingi. You know he is that kid who will be in the limelight after he practices every day and night inside an abandoned practice room near the apartment that you both still live in with your mothers. You watch him from the corner of the room as his shoes screech on the floor, his feet coordinating with the beat of the music.

“You wanted to become an idol, Mangi?”

“I want to become the best rapper in the next generation of K-pop, chérie! Just imagine being on stage with so many fans singing along with you or going on tour!”

“Hmm~ I’ll support you.”

“Thank you chérie.”

Song Mingi. He was your childhood friend. He was the timid kid from the back of the classroom, alone in his own world and words of his emotions written at the back of his physics notebook. He was the one who is embarrassed to learn about human anatomy the whole time he is red and the teacher almost sent him to the clinic due to how red his face is; he is also the kid who looks away whenever he sees such intimate moments.

But he was also the kid who developed such a character that you were so proud to tell the whole world how you witnessed the changes of his personality. How he furnished his personality with your help.

His chérie.

“I want to dedicate this song to my chérie!” Mingi shouted on his hand mic, almost the entire open arena howled in response. That cement color mic (which made you laugh for almost a minute when he told you his favorite color when you were both kids) was glistening because of the sweat.

“You guys don't know how much they mean to me, how much they put effort to those times I felt like no one likes me. From being kids, I was so scared of the world, yet they were there to help me see the other side of it. From our first lesson in humans where they laugh at me because of I blushed at word dick …” The fans laugh along with his members, Mingi felt his heart skipping a beat as each of his words were closing to the end. 

“To college life where we were both learning life, crying and getting scolded for staying out late and being together to overcome the challenges. They saw me through my worst and best, been through my ups and downs. So, put your motherfucking hands up for my girlfriend, my chérie!” He raised his hand, his ring finger bent as he continued his speech.

Song Mingi. He is the kid; you never knew you would fall for; you, his chérie.

[madwomansapologist]

i love everybody because i love you

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: It doesn't matter what their first impressions of you were, they certainly did not expect you to be so important in their lifes. And as the days passes, each one of your companions need to understand a simple fact: they love you. They all love you.

warnings: a sequel to that (you don't need to read if you don't want to). song "strawberry blond". companions (lae'zel, halsin) x druid!tav. background cast (alfira, mirkon, scratch, owlbear, shadowheart, astarion, wyll, mizora, karlach, minthara). lae'zel love language is pressing a dagger against your throat. i accidentaly made her somewhat a stalker?? there is a high chance minthara doesn't sound like her because i killed her like two onversations in. if you discover which animated character is my biggest inspiration for this tav i will give you a reward.

In a harsh world, people are supossed to shield themselfs from even the possibility of danger. Is the only rational response to the ambiguity of chaos. What those who crave to survive must learn, what those who deserve to survive must do.

You get stronger, so you won't feel pain. Because to feel pain is to remind your soul that one day your body will perish. To get stronger is to forget about the eventual end. Is to get protected from death itself, even if as just a concept.

When not even death can catch you, you're free. When you have nothing to love, nothing to care about, you are free. That's real strength. To be invulnerable. To have nothing to lose, no one close enough to ever hurt you.

Lae'zel lost the count on how many times you bleed. How many times you fell. Burned, drowned, exhausted in pain. Arrows crossed your chest, swords cut your legs, calloused hands stopped you from breathing.

You're somewhat good at hiding it. How much things can hurt you. When someone disrespect one of your companions, when people blame you for their fates, when you did everything you could and it wasn't enough. It hurts you in a different, worst way. She can see it on your face.

Maybe you could've earned a good end, if the world worked in a different way. A peaceful life, one fit for those who don't aspire greatness. But Lae'zel knew it was only a matter of time until the tadpole took control. She felt it on herself. Saw it on you.

No one would save her, no one would save any of you, but perhaps Lae'zel could. It was an merciful act. To end you first. You failed as a leader, but you tried. Then she'll go to the others, knowing she's brave enough to kill herself after.

She thought you had surrendered yourself to her. That you had come to the same conclusion. A wise druid, after all. Then Lae'zel felt. The cold thread against the base of her neck. A dagger she didn't saw coming.

"Step back," you ordered, voice unaffected. Lae'zel never heard you like that before. She had a dagger against your throat, but you spoke as if you rule the entire world.

"Chk, you think that tiny blade of yours will stop me from free..."

"What I think doesn't matter, but what I know does." Your eyes burned her skin. "You're stronger, I'm faster. I propose you a bet. If you kill me, go on with your plan. If I kill you, that's it. I won't kill them. I won't kill myself. Even if I can, even if I must. You would've died for nothing, forever ignorant if it was the right thing to do."

Lae'zel saw you barefoot at the Emerald Grove, applauding Alfira as she sang. Crossing the river by jumping from stone to stone, talking to Mirkon as if he wasn't a kid but a dear friend. How many times did Lae'zel found a bed shaped of you on the grass right next to where Scratch and Owlbear slept?

A sacreed deer, whose even blood is ever so sweet, howled like an wolf.

Would you turn into a mindflayer out of... stubbornness? Would you let the rest of your beloved party turn into something utterly disgusting, putting in danger all those people you swore to protect, just to prove a point?

Maybe you would. Maybe you wouldn't.

No one died that night.

You intrigued Lae'zel. Before you were her supposedly defenseless prey, and now you are the object of her curiosity. Lae'zel didn't understand you. And she craved to.

So she kept a close eye on you.

You bleed. All the fucking time. You bleed, and you wept. But everytime someone crushed you down, you rose up. For every tear that fall from your eyes, you made sure to smile. You survive, and you keep on doing it.

Strength and weakness merged in the warrior's mind. She knew what strength is, she can smell weakness from afar. Lae'zel was taught everything she was supossed to know.

But you were never the one to fit in old impervious notions.

Lae'zel saw you end a hyena's suffering without flinching, and you trying to hold on the wind when you were about to fall. She heard you helping a bird decorate its nest, and the breaking of a skull of someone brave enough to maim Shadowheart when she was near you.

You yelled at Astarion as he tried to stop you from helping gnomes. Helped Wyll with herbs for his pain after Mizora's trick. Helped Gale with dinner, putting a smile to the usually frowed wizard's face. Gave Karlach her first hug in years.

She saw your every movement. Lae'zel heard you laughing, saw you dancing, watched as you helped your new friends. Sometimes it felt as if you made white lines so she could follow you. So Lae'zel could see you being good, nice, decent. Being you in a way that showed her that no, you would've never let your companions turn into mindflayers. You were bluffing, and she fell for it.

At some point, it started to ache. Anytime you laugh at some tiefling's story, something inside Lae'zel burned. At night, she could picture your smile on her eyelids. When you call her name during battle, yelling instructions that somewhat always end in victory. When you look at her.

She can still see that fire. That same flame that stopped her from killing you right then and there. But diluted, controlled. And still, just as able of burning her entire soul. You have a fire contained within your gaze, and Lae'zel doesn't mind getting burned.

Maybe you're not that weak. And maybe she's not that strong.

She's not watching you anymore. Observing your every move so she can understand your mind. Not a prey, not a walking question mark. Lae'zel is purelly admiring.

For some, you came as a tempest. Slowly, without announce your intentions, your way of being embraced them.

A few flinched, scared of what that meant about them. That by admitting you're good despite it all means they could be good too. Some welcomed it, scared of what that meant about the world. If you're good despite everything that happened, then others could be too. Others chose not to.

But you stroke Halsin as a thunderstorm, just as quickly and fiercly. In such a dark time, you were a lighthouse. A shining light that blind at first, but embraces and comforts.

The grove was in danger, his life could end at any given moment, a goblin camp separated him from the world he worked so hard to protect. But your party helped him, and it gave Halsin the right amount of hope.

You asked him to stay behind, and he did so. Halsin wouldn't be able to control himself, and you didn't need all that attention. He was hopeful, not an idiot. But when Halsin heard screams from the room beside... Knowing that Minthara was there, Halsin couldn't help himself.

A wizard focused on the goblins. As he held them in place, a cleric made sure to end them. But at the other side of the room, the only other druid he saw in weeks had a dagger deep on her chest.

Minthara had you on your knees, her nails digging on the skin of your chin. A burning tiefling didn't knew a way to react that wouldn't end within that same blade slicing your throat. She waited for an order, an instruction of any kind, and Minthara realized that you were leading the rebels.

"Is that your leader?" Minthara looked at the tiefling. Her eyes were numb, bored even, but her grin was sharp. She forced to blade deeper. "A weak druid, barely able of helding a sword? Are you that desperate?"

You should've cried. You should've beg for mercy. You should've do anything, instead of laughing. Minthara glared at you, sure that you were reduced to a crazy, desperate animal. But when you bit her hand, blood staining your chin, you were more of a beast.

Minthara stumbled, and you pulled the blade she left on your shoulder. Blood ran down your side, but that didn't stopped you from rising up. Halsin don't think anything would've.

"Maybe you're right," you hissed. With her dagger on your left hand, you took your sword from the ground. "I'm not a fighter. I wasn't educate to control the Weave. I can't heal a thing. When I can't do something, I find someone that can. Without their help, I would be dead by now."

Halsin came here to act. To help, protect, kill. But all he could do, just like everyone else in that room, was to watch you. To look at your beaming smile, to see the blood on your teath, not even trying not to get blind by it.

"Why would anyone follow someone that professes to be so weak?" She looked at the wizard, a dead goblin at his feet, her brain thinking of all the ways she could defeat your party. "What can you do that give you the right to rule them?"

Your smile seemed to grow wider. "I can beat the shit out of you."

And beat the shit out of Minthara you did.

With a first impression like that, ain't no mistery why Halsin couldn't do anything but to stay with your party. But to go on with you, deafeting the Shadowcurse and exploring Baldur's Gate. But to see you shine, feel your warmth, and let it pull a string on his heart.

At the end, it didn't matter how it started. It didn't matter how much they fought the thought back. If they lied to themselfs, made you a villain on their minds, welcomed you with open arms.

You have their hearts. Simply as it can be. You have their hearts.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

BALDUR'S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[zeravmeta]

DS is such a fascinating protagonist to me because he is very much The Loveable Bastard (!!) in every way but in this terrible man we see such a genuine love for humanity, not just in the character himself but in what he represents.

DS is not a good person. The series jumps through hoops and is borderline a parody of itself just to show how much DS sucks and is a legitimately terrible person, but he is also not a character inherently made to be mean spirited. He is our protagonist, sure, but not a character that we root for: one who raves about his own ambitions of killing people to rule the world with evil, how every woman exists just to sleep with him, DS is by design not someone whose 'redeemable' or even half way decent by any definition, and the writing does reflect this by having DS, powerful as he is, constantly clowned on and beaten up by the rest of the cast even though he could nuke them pretty easily. He's not justified in anything, he's not someone you want to believe in, he's not good by any respects.

Yet, he is still the one who fights to save humanity from the threat of both Heaven and Hell. When faced with the prospects of God's condemnation and Hell's wrath, he is the one who says that humanity should endure.

This is important because fundamentally, DS does not understand love. He does not understand the love he holds for others, nor the idea that people can love him. He doesn't understand the love of the divine towards humanity, nor why humans willingly pray to any god for salvation. He has no value in faith, not only in the religious sense but even the belief that humans can have in one another. He doesn't believe in anything or anyone, not even himself. All that he exists as is raw power and instinct.

He is a human without a heart.

I think his relationship with his four generals is something to look at here, because while on the surface it may seem like just another example of him being terrible (which it is), an interesting caveat to it is that to him, it is entirely transactional: Gara and Abigail are no different from any of the other soldiers sworn into his service, they just happen to be the strongest ones. Any loveable rivalry that Gara had with DS is entirely one sided, something he himself comments on when seeing how DS acts following his revival. Furthermore, in his eyes Kall and Nel are his possessions before they are any form of family. He saved their lives, so now they owe him, they belong to him. For all that they are called his children, Kall is only a powerful soldier he raised whose life was sworn to him and Nel is no different from any other woman he sleeps with. He doesn't care for the labels other people place on any of his relationships because he does not understand them.

None of these dynamics, however, are inherently malicious on his end. In all of his exchanges with his generals, it always goes the similar dynamic of "Do what I say, and you are free to do whatever else you want". He has a genuine childlike mentality and reasoning for what he does, an overgrown manchild of course but DS despite being the physical embodiment of lust is not actually a mature human being. He's grown but he's not grown up. He plays at human relationships and human emotions because it's what everyone else around him does, not because he himself actually understands them.

And when we learn that he was originally an artificially created human, a weapon made by man to stave off their extinction, outside the domain of God, we realize that he was born without God's love. Humanity is the child of God, but he is an unwanted bastard child.

He was a human entirely lacking in humanity because he is half a person, without the other half of his soul. DS before his merging with Lucian is simply raw desire, ambition, and human evil, an animal howling at a world he does not understand and that does not understand him. Following his merge with Lucian, however, he's.... still roughly the same, actually. Kinder, for sure, as he does not indiscriminately kill people anymore, but many of the terrible aspects of pre-revival DS still do exist within him. Softer, maybe, but not any less damning.

But you can't deny that even he, born as a weapon, known as a tyrant, killed as a monster, and reborn as an effigy, is still a human being worthy of being loved.

Because that's what DS ultimately is after all the labels and evils: just another human being.

He is the raw human desire for survival, the unwanted bastard child of God, the stillborn infant who survived and grew outside of God's hold over humanity.

He is the Dragon Knight because he is both the monster and the hero, the dragon who terrorized humans but also the knightly hero who saves humans.

He is humanity's sins and humanity's salvation, the damnable creation made to destroy but still capable of love and still worthy of being loved.

DS is a mirror to the human spirit, to you the reader, but he's not a perfect image. Rather, he's a reflection of all our worst traits, not as the terrible monster to damn for all our evils, but rather in a comical package we can laugh about. He's the bastard of the world in how terrible he is, sure, but also a bastard that exists to laugh at, not because humanity is inherently evil or anything but because everyone just sucks sometimes and what we can do is just laugh about it.

It's ok if you make a mistake, because you'll never be as terrible as Dark Schneider is! Have a laugh about it, you'll do better next time!

Even the most cartoonishly evil man and literal bastard child of God is still a human worthy of love.