#everyone out here enduring years of pining
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shepscapades · 1 day ago
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This ask is old enough that there’s a 0% chance they knew about keralis and xb when they sent it but I couldn’t get this silly image outta my head =w=
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ckret2 · 3 months ago
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Hi! I don't remember if anyone asked this, but do you have any headcanons about Shermie Pines?
Sure, here's the big one.
I've decided to resolve the "if he's the baby then Mabel & Dipper are the product of two generations of 15-year-old parents; if he's older than Stan & Ford and maybe already out of the house then where is he and who's the baby?" problem the most ridiculous way possible:
He IS the baby, but he grew 20 years in 10 years.
I don't mean he's a 10-year-old that looks 20, i mean that for every year he existed, he experienced two years of life. Like at the start of September he entered 1st grade and at the end of next May he exited 2nd grade, and nobody knows how, he didn't jump up a grade during winter break or something, everyone around him clearly remembers him going through nine months of school and then summer break and then another nine months of school, his first and second grade teachers both remember teaching him for a whole school year, but it happened within one year.
Nobody else is affected; they all remember experiencing two years of life with Shermie, but they didn't age two years too. Just him. No one can explain it. It's the darnedest thing.
"But how did this happen." Time magic. "What caused it?" Magic. "Did he experience every year twice?" No just once; the year was twice as long for him. "Then how did he experience two school years instead of one double length school year?" Magic. "How does that even work???" I'm not an expert on time magic.
Caryn told Ford about it, but he was busy with more PhD programs than any human should ever endure and assumed it was some kind of hyperbolic lie to communicate how fast it feels like Shermie's growing, so she's going "this sounds like one of your strange anomalous things you study, isn't this one of those things you study?" and he's like "uh huh that's great mom."
Stan, of course, didn't hear any of this, so the first he learns of it is during a reluctant family reunion soon after he takes over Ford's life and Caryn's like "and over there's your brother Shermie and his wife, I don't know if you've seen him since your master's degree, try to talk to them won't you?" and Stan goes "Shermie?? Isn't he supposed to be twelve, why's he look like a MAN? Whaddaya mean wife??? Is she pregnant????" and Caryn went "😏 I KNEW you were never listening on the phone."
Shermie gradually stopped experiencing life on double time and slowed down to age normally around his mid twenties (well, mid twenties from his perspective; around 13 according to his birth certificate). Filbrick and Caryn sort of agreed that getting married must have helped him "settle down" and they don't really question it.
Ford gets to learn this several hours after he gets home when he finally gets a break long enough to put two and two together and goes "wait, SHERMIE'S grandkids?? But he's barely in his forties, how does he have 12-year-old grandkids" and Stan tells him and Ford goes "You mean Mom was telling the truth?!"
That fall while Shermie's yelling "WHADDAYA MEAN YOU SWITCHED PLACES AND FELL INTO A SPACE PORTAL" Ford's yelling back "CAN I CARBON DATE YOUR FACE"
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brummiereader · 1 year ago
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MASTERLIST
Hopelessly Devoted (PART ONE)
Summary: A flashback to when you and Tommy were young, carefree and smitten with one another plays out in your head as you sit alone in the Garrison, watching him now in the arms of another woman whilst you desperately hold onto the love you still have for him. Does Tommy share the same sentiments or has his bitterness towards you stained the love he claims he no long has for you?
Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining
Authors note: Inspired by the song "Hopelessly Devoted" by Olivia Newton-John. RIP sweet angel.
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"We're bloody late again!" your mother muttered under her breath as she hurried up the church steps holding onto her hat from the bitter January wind whilst you are your little brother George, lovingly known as Georgie walked behind her. "Ten minutes until we leave I said" she huffed turning around, scowling at you as you rolled your eyes in response. "Ten minutes! In the time it took for you to put your dress on I had swept the porch and gotten your brother ready. Why did you give me such an unruly child?" she said looking up to the heavens expecting some sort of response. "Out all hours gallivanting about with those Shelby boys, never listening to a word I say. I'm being punished aren't I, for the sins of her father...the bloody fool he was, drinking himself to an early grave, leaving me here to fend for myself with two kids..." she carried on as you held your little brothers hand, a small sigh leaving his mouth as he looked up at you, shaking his head at your mother's relentless rambling. " Y/N let me look at you. Bloody hell child, you look a state!" she frowned as she turned to face you at the top of the steps.
"Can you just stop" you said trying to move her hands away as she pushed your hair back behind your ears, pinching your cheeks to give them a rosy glow. "Look at your dress..." she huffed as she straightened the bottom out, pulling at the frilly pink fabric whilst your little brother reached up to open the church door. "Stay still!" she said as you started fidgeting away from her hands, her overbearing mothering making you feel like you was eight years old again.
" For god's sake I'm not a kid!" you replied rather loudly when the doors fully opened and everyone in their seats turned around to look at the commotion. "Shit" you mumbled under your breath as you looked to the sea of eyes now staring back at you, the loud bang of the church door slamming against the brick wall startling you as your little brother giggled in amusement.
" Bloody Walk Y/N" your mother said through gritted teeth behind you as she took her and George's hat off. Smiling graciously left to right at the people seated along the outer rows your mother politely mouthed small hellos and good mornings as all three of you made your way down the aisle, her normal vocabulary filled with a plethora of her favourite profanities not once leaving her lips. Turning your head you quickly spotted Tommy sitting next to his family with a huge grin on his face, loving every second of the embarrassment he knew you was enduring. As the sound of your heels on the stone floor echoed loudly through the church, your entrance now the focus point of everyone's attention, you finally reached the alter with the Reverend stood beside it. You could almost feel the laughter Tommy and Arthur were holding back as your mother pushed you forward to bow. With a grunt leaving your throat you lowered your head, a small mischievous glint in your eye at the sudden, yet stupid idea to prove to your mother how unruly of a child you really was.
" Forgive me father for I have sinned, it has been mere hours since I last pissed my mother off..." You said dramatically as your mother's eyes widened in embarrassment a gasp leaving her mouth as she grabbed you by the arm and span you back around, all while apologising profusely to the Priest now shaking his head at her. Oh the shame, the humiliation, she would never live this down. The gossip she would have to endure for months in the women's wash house was a fair consolation for her making you wear this god awful dress you proudly thought to yourself as you walked to find a seat. Sighing the Reverend lowered his eye as he turned the page of his sermon, longing to be appointed somewhere, anywhere out of Small Heath. No number of hail Mary's could save this sinful town. As you walked down the aisle the sudden sound of Tommy and Arthur laughing had you biting your inner cheek holding back your own amusement as you watched Polly snap her head in their direction.
" Shut up" Polly whispered as she reached over hitting each of them in the chest. "Bloody kids" she mouthed sympathetically to your mother as you all walked by.
" Girlfriend finally made it" Arthur whispered in Tommy's ear, knowing full well how smitten he was with you.
" Shes not my girlfriend, shut it" he muttered under his breath as you sent him a small wave which he quickly returned.
" Hi ya" Arthur laughed mocking him.
" Fuck off Arthur" Tommy replied as he elbowed him in the ribs leaving him wincing in pain.
" I'll let you have that one baby brother" he laughed rubbing his side.
" No fucking swearing in church!" Polly said quietly through gritted teeth as she hit the back of Tommy's head. It was always an eventful service when the Shelby's attended, which made you wonder what they had done to have their Aunt force them this time.
Walking out into the fresh air, free from the stuffy confines of the church you pushed back your hair behind your shoulders folding your arms as you faced the sun. Closing your eyes you sighed as the rays of light beamed onto your skin. With summer still a long way off you was enjoying the rare event in which the sun broke through the smoke filled skies of Small Heath. That was until you felt the warmth disappear and a large shadow take it's place. Opening your eyes you was met with Tommy Shelby standing right in front of you, a cigarette precariously hanging on the corner of his mouth, grinning from ear to ear.
" Get out the way you're blocking the sun" you said as you pushed him to the side closing your eyes again.
" Hmm, you are looking rather pasty"
" Thanks Thomas, you really know how to compliment a lady" you said taking the cigarette out his mouth as you walked over to sit on the brick wall just outside the church.
"Lady?" Tommy laughed as he sent you a cheeky smile." Nice dress by the way. You look like a flower girl"
" Shut up" you said playfully hitting his arm in response, hating everything about the overly embroidered puffy dress you were begrudgingly wearing. " Have you seen yourself?" you smirked looking down at his outfit "Think your Aunt needs to shorten those" you laughed as you nodded to the ends of his trousers bunched up around his boots.
" They're Arthur's hand-me-downs, the lanky git" he said kicking a stone on the ground that you both watched roll into the road.
" So what did you do this time to end up here on a Sunday morning?" You asked as you turned your head to face him.
" Aunt Pol found out Arthur stole one of the candelabras from the Reverends study. Convinced himself it was solid gold, you should have seen his face when we melted it down in Charlie's yard and it was copper" Tommy laughed as he looked back at you. " Polly was furious said he had sinned enough for the whole house and we were all damned to hell if we didn't come today" he explained further as his eyes lingered on your face, watching the way your nose scrunched up as you laughed, a sight he never got tired of. " So you coming later?" he asked leaning into you as he took his cigarette now stained with pink lipstick back from between your fingers, not that he minded.
" No absolutely not. Do you not remember the last time we followed one of Arthur's genius ideas?" you answered folding your arms having already made your mind up.
" He's got a map this time. Come on it will be fun" he said nudging his arm against yours.
" A map to what?"
" To where this rich fuck has all his liquor stored"
"Can I come?" John said running up to you both after overhearing the conversation, poking his brothers knee with a stick in attempt to get his attention which Tommy quickly put a stop to by giving him a kick in the shin.
" No, fuck off " Tommy said pushing him away from in front of him as John stormed off crying in search of his Aunt. " So how about it? "
" Fine, but only because it's your birthday tomorrow" you said giving in as you both smiled to eachother. "But this better be fool proof. I can't risk getting in trouble with my mum again, she's a few breaths away from kicking me out"
" That's alright, you can come live with me" he said winking to you as you looked up at him through your lashes, blushing a darker shade of pink than your dress." We'll come by to get you at eleven, don't be late ok? "
" I'm never late" you responded as Tommy rolled his eyes flicking his cigarette onto the ground. If there was one thing he had learnt over the years it was that you was always late.
" Thomas Michael Shelby! " Polly shouted as she stormed over to you both, dragging John with her by the arm.
"Shit. Right I'm off" Tommy said quickly pecking your cheek as he jumped over the wall running away from his Aunt. Bringing your hand up to your face you pressed your fingers to your skin, a smile dancing on your lips as you turned around to watch Tommy run into the back alleys of Small Heath, fleeing from the fury coming his way. Thomas Michael Shelby your best friend, your partner in crime and also the boy you had been head over heels for as long as you could remember. What a sorry story your limited love life had already been, endlessly pining for a boy you had convinced yourself only saw you as a friend, desperately hoping he felt the same.
It was just after noon when you Tommy and Arthur made your way over the wooden fencing onto the large mansions land. Having never once left the city limits in all of your eighteen years of life you was taken aback by the sheer size of the house in front of you. Surrounded by luscious green grass, rows of trees adorning its drive way, you was sure it was something only seen in films, a far cry from the mud and dirt of Small Heath.
" Give me the map" Tommy said as Arthur handed it to him whilst he looked over the brick wall separating you and the owner who was outside sitting in a garden chair.
"Arthur he has a dog. A mean looking thing" you said as Tommy stood beside you squinting at the map in his hand.
"Yeh well, he would have still been out with that dog hunting, but you were late" Tommy interjected with a smile on his face, having been right about your constant tardiness.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist Y/N, I've been coming here every day for the past week feeding him leftovers, he likes me. He won't make a peep " Arthur said trying to reassure you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing anything the eldest Shelby said was not to be trusted and far from the actual truth.
" Jesus Christ Arthur" Tommy said throwing the map at his brothers chest. " This is a fucking map for a house in London!"
" Ay?" Arthur said as he straightened it out in front of him. " Where's it say that? " he asked as Tommy snatched it back from him pointing at the words "London" written right underneath the name of the house.
" Well how was I supposed to bloody know. They should have put it at the very top"
" It's in fucking capitals Arthur, how can you not..."
" Right I'm going home" you said as the two brothers continued to argue. As always Arthur's ideas were never properly thought out, often getting you in trouble more than anything else.
" Wait Y/N no, come on stay" Tommy said as he looked back to his older brother widening his eyes in gesture to help him convince you not to leave.
" Y/N " Arthur said as he put his arm around your shoulder. " We're at the back entrance. He probably keeps it down in the basement, it won't be far. You're the only one small enough to shimmy through the window to open the lock on the other side. Come on, dont let us down, it's Tom's birthday tomorrow. "
" Fine. But if I put another ladder in my stockings you're paying for a new pair" you said pointing to him as Arthur placed a wooden crate below the window for you to stand on.
"Atta girl" Arthur said as he turned his head around winking to Tommy as you climbed through the window, quickly making in through to the other side. Pushing past his brother, Tommy went to open the door when the dog Arthur promised wouldn't bark suddenly started to do exactly that.
" Hey! Who's there?" the owner said as you all ran into the house. " Get 'em boy" he shouted as his dog came charging round the corner into the building.
" Fucking traitor! After all the food I gave you" Arthur shouted as you all ran down the hall, making your way up to the second level.
" What did you feed him with?" you asked breathlessly as you ran beside them, Tommy's hand resting on your back making sure you didn't get left behind.
"Sprouts"
"Sprouts!" You and Tommy both shouted looking back at him.
" It's all we had"
" No wonder he bloody hates you" Tommy said as all three of you came to a stop behind a wall waiting for a maid to walk by.
" Sniff them out" the owner said as you heard the sound of the dogs nails clicking on the wooden floorboards, getting closer by the second.
" Shiiit, run! Hide! Arthur giggled as you legged it down one of the second floor corridors, Tommy quickly pulling you into a small storage room to the side as Arthur continued to run down the hall. Breathless, you both looked up at eachother as a fit of laughs left your lips. Bringing his finger up to his mouth Tommy gestured for you to be quiet as the sound of the owner walking along the corridor quickly brought your giggles to a stop. Taking in your surroundings you suddenly realised how close you were to eachother. Cardboard boxes were stacked as high as the ceiling all around you, there was barely enough space for one person let alone two.
" Is he gone?" you whispered to which Tommy nodded, his eyes looking over you as he too started to realise how close you were to one another." You're taking all the space" you said trying to free yourself from the uncomfortable position you was in.
" Y/N my backs pushed up against the door. I don't have any more room to move" he said as you huffed in response moving your arm that was stuck between you to the side. Silence fell upon the small room as you continued to fidget in place whilst Tommy cleared his throat, his eyes darting between you and the surrounding boxes.
" What? Why do you keep looking at me like that" you said with a thrown on your face.
" I'm not looking at you like anything" Tommy replied as he quickly glanced away. With your focus now elsewhere, Tommy's eyes drifted down to both of your bodies pressed up against eachother, biting his inner cheek in attempt to rid himself of all the thoughts going through his mind. Taking in every delicate feature of your face, Tommy felt his heart quicken as he continued to stare down at you. God you were beautiful, he had been wanting to tell you those very words for years, wanted to ask you out, tell you how he felt. But unlike his old brother who seemed to have endless amounts of confidence when it came to girls, Tommy never found the courage to make a move. Instead he begrudgingly tormented himself, watching all the boys of Small Heath try their luck with you.
" You're doing it again, stop it!" you said squinting your eyes as you looked up to see him still staring down at you. " You're making me nervous"
" What else am I supposed to look at, you're right in front of me " he said with a small sigh. Just ask her you idiot, he thought to himself as he peered at you in the corner of his eye.
" Y/N erm, I was wondering..." he started to say when you grabbed his hand your eyes widening in a panic.
" Shh. Did you hear that?" You said as you looked behind him to the door.
" Its just a window blowing open" he replied as he glanced down at your hand still holding onto his. Throwing his head back Tommy shook his head, frustrated that the moment he had finally found the courage to ask you out you had cut him off. Bringing his eyes back down to look at you, Tommy took a deep breath. If he couldn't say how he felt he would show it. What was the worse that could happen?
" Fuck it" he said as he cupped your cheeks crashing his lips onto yours. For a brief moment you resisted taken by surprise at Tommy's unexpected move until your whole body finally relaxed and you quickly melted into the kiss. There was no technique to it, wet, messy, all tongues and teeth. But as your lips interlocked you felt a flutter of butterflies fill your stomach, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as Tommy enthusiastically pushed you back the few centimeters remaining between you and the wall behind you.
" Owh" you said as your head hit the wall, the thump loud enough for anyone to hear.
" Shit, sorry" Tommy said as a small giggle escaped your mouth at his overly keen display. Pressing your lips back onto his the kiss was smoother, a small whimper leaving your throat as his tongue brushed over yours. Moaning, Tommy's hand dropped from your waist to your leg as his fingers travelled under you skirt grazing over your suspenders. Things were getting heated, very heated.
" Wait, Tommy I've, i'm a.."
" Fuck sorry, I wasn't trying to" Tommy awkwardly said cutting you and himself off. " Wait, you're a Virgin?" he asked with a small smile etched on the corner of his lips his brows slightly raised.
" Why do you look so surprised? " you answered back, your whole face scrunched up in annoyance.
" No nothing. It's just I didn't think you was...you know" he replied unable to formulate his own words.
" Oh and you're not? You really think I believed that ridiculous story you told us all last summer about how you gave Irene five orgasms in ten minutes" you scoffed with a laugh as Tommy's cheeks suddenly went a crimson shade of red, his hands dropping from your waist.
" Jesus...thanks Y/N" Tommy said looking away with a huff unable to physically move away from the embarrassment surrounding him.
" Slightly exaggerated don't you think? " you giggled as Tommy looked back at you, his hands now on his hips.
" You done?" he huffed as you bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the laugh that was seconds away from escaping. As Tommy pressed his lips back onto yours the small giggle unable to contain itself finally broke free.
" Stop it, I'm trying to concentrate" he said smiling into your lips as he continued to kiss you, his hands roaming over the curves of your body when the door suddenly flew open.
" Oi oi, what's going on in here then? " Arthur said grinning at you both as you let go of eachother. Rolling your eyes you walked out the small room pushing past him the box of whisky and leg of ham he was holding. "Get to second base baby brother?" Arthur sniggered as Tommy thumped him in the arm.
" Fuck off Arthur" Tommy pouted leaving the room and his older brother in fits of laughter. Both barely out the door, your eyes widened as the owner and his dog turned the corner.
" You little bastards. I've seen your faces. I know who you are! You're those trouble making Shelby boys. And look, you've brought your little whore with you, that dead drunk idiot's daughter. How did you petty little thieves make it out of Small Heath, steal a car?"
" Hey! Nobody gets to call her a whore but us" Arthur warned the owner pointing his finger at him as Tommy protectively pushed you behind him. Now in a stand-off between the owner and his drooling dog growling at you, you watched as he unclasped the large metal chain from the dogs collar.
" Go on boy get 'em!" he commanded when Tommy grabbed the leg of ham out the crate in Arthur's arms, launching it in the dog's direction.
" My bloody ham!" Arthur said, furious his dinner had been tossed to the the very dog he felt had betrayed him.
" Run!" Tommy shouted as you all turned around.
" I'm calling the police!"
" Thanks for the whisky old man" Arthur laughed running down the stairs as you and Tommy followed behind him, mentally noting never to follow one of Arthur's ideas again.
Several hours had passed and you Tommy, Arthur and a girl he had picked up along the way were sitting around a campfire in the local woods where Arthur and Tommy's families two vardos were, sipping on the finest whisky you had ever tasted. You couldn't remember the amount of times they had brought you out here to camp, taking you away for a brief moment from the smoke filled air, from the memories of your father that hung over you thicker than any fogged filled skies, a grief you wouldn't have made it through without them. As you sat looking at the flames of the fire mesmerised by their orange glow Tommy glanced over to you, watching the flickering lights from the campfire cast a golden hue on your skin, desperate to be alone with you again, the kiss you shared earlier repeatedly playing out in his head.
" Come on love, let's leave them to it" Arthur said standing up taking his dates hand after noticing his brother staring at you. " See you in the morning" Arthur winked back to Tommy opening the small caravan door, squeezing the girls bum as they both entered. " If the caravan be rocking, don't come a knocking!" Arthur laughed as he shut the door leaving you alone with Tommy.
" Dickhead" Tommy mumbled under his breath as you looked away, biting your bottom lip at how awkward Arthur had suddenly made everything. "It's getting late" you said standing up as you brushed the mud and twigs off your skirt looking back at the other vardo.
" I'll sleep out here" Tommy said as he sat up throwing another log onto the fire.
" You can't sleep out here, you'll freeze to death. Come on, it's not like we've never slept in the same bed" you said only just realising how different this time would be.
" Right, yeh...ok" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stood up.
As you settled into the small bed you watched as Tommy took of his hat and coat, your heart rapidly beating as nerves started to mount in your stomach. Climbing under the covers Tommy turned to face you, his fingers coming up to brush the strands of hair away from your face. Leaning into eachother, both of you turned your head in the same direction, awkwardly banging your foreheads together, resulting in a fit of laughs leaving your lips as Tommy shook his head at you. It was quite possible you were the giggliest girl he had ever met. Relaxing you recomposed yourself as Tommy pressed his lips to yours in a tender embrace. As his hand moved to your lower back, pressing your body closer to his your breath hitched in you throat, nerves now consuming every movement you made. Pulling away Tommy rubbed his thumb over your hip, in an effort to help you relax.
" Let's just lay here together, yeh?" he said taking the pressure away from you, not wanting to rush you into anything you wasn't ready for you as you nodded your head, thankful for his understanding nature. Rolling onto his back Tommy brought you closer into his side as he stroked up and down your arm, happy to finally have you in his arms.
" I nearly forgot" you said as you sat up leaning across him to pick up your coat.
" Happy Birthday" you said pulling out a small gift wrapped in cloth.
" My birthdays not until tomorrow " he chuckled as he sat up.
" It will be in ten minutes" you said as you looked down at your watch, quickly returning your eyes to him pulling out a gold pocket watch from within the delicate fabric.
" Jesus Y/N...you got this for me, how? " he said with a huge grin on his face as he looked to you.
" All those hours pressing clothes. Took me almost a year to be able to afford it"
"Come here" he said bringing you into a hug as you settled back down into the bed together." Thank you" he added as he pressed a kiss to your forehead feeling happier than any win he had ever won at the races.
With his arm securely wrapped around you Tommy couldn't stop the smile on his face as he looked down at the watch in his hand, it was nicest thing he owned and the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. Glancing at your wristwatch, Tommy turned the dials to the right time, when you took it from him turning it back a further five minutes.
" It's five minutes too late" he said watching you press the knob down.
" That way I'll always be on time for you" you giggled handing it back as Tommy chuckled shaking his head.
" Yeh just means I won't be on time for anything" he smiled closing the watch, keeping it tightly clasped in his hand as you nuzzled your head into his chest.
" Tommy?"
" Mm-hm?" he said as his eyes were about to close.
" What do you think we'll be doing this time ten years from now"
" The same thing" he smiled as his thumb rubbed over the curve of your shoulder. "Only naked" he said as he opened one eye looking to you.
" Tommy!" You said, giving him a small punch to the arm. " I'm serious, what do you think we'll be doing?"
" The same thing Y/N" he said with certainty as he tuned his head to face you. " You'll be in my arms every night from now on, that's a promise" he said as he looked lovingly back at you before giving you one last peck to the lips as you both closed your eyes, dreaming of the future and everything coming your way. Even though you were both young with your whole lives ahead of you one thing was for certain, in that moment you had no doubts that you wouldn't spend the rest of your lives together and every night in each others arms.
Ten years later...
Laughs and chatter of people enjoying eachothers company hummed around you as you sat quietly in the corner of the Garrison, the drink in your hand untouched as the night you and Tommy spent together this time ten years ago asleep in each others arms cruelly played out in your head. As a tear fell from your eye you looked up across the room to see the new barmaid sat tightly against Tommy's body, his arm resting around her shoulders. Tonight it wouldn't be you wrapped in his arms, tonight you would sleep alone as regret over decisions you had made weighed down your already broken heart. Standing up from your seat Tommy's eyes quickly darted to you, watching you pull your coat around you as you brushed the tears from your face, leaving the Garrison in a hurry unable to withstand anymore.
Clutching your coat around you from the cold night air you pushed the last tears from your cheeks as the pain in your heart dug further into your chest.
" Y/N" you heard your name being called by the very man you didn't want to see you like this.
"Yes Tommy" you said turning around as he waited at the Garrison door.
" I need you to go finish those papers at the betting shop for tomorrow" he said lighting a cigarette as he stepped a little closer.
" It's nearly midnight..." you replied as you watched him pull out his pocket watch to check the time. Quickly closing it Tommy clutched it tightly in his hand as he looked back at you. For a brief moment that's all he did as if the memories of that night had suddenly come flooding back to him. Maybe they had never left, and Tommy's heart was aching as much of yours, either way you could never tell, for just as quickly as his face softened for those brief few moments his demeanor abruptly changed, a scowl now spread across his face.
" The deadlines tomorrow " he said sharply looking to you as you shivered in the cold, your eyes red from crying.
" Ok Tommy" you said like you always did, at his beck and call night and day, desperately hanging onto the love you still felt for him. Without saying another word you turned on your heel heading for Watery Lane.
" You not going to wish me a happy birthday then?" Tommy called out as he watched you walk away.
" Happy birthday Tommy" you replied, the words catching in your throat, tears streaming down your face as you walked briskly off into the night. So much had changed over the years, so many promises broken, hearts broken along with them. But yet you still held on, hopelessly devoted to the man who promised to hold you in his arms every night.
NEXT PART
Tag list: @cosniffee @jonsncws @powellssaturn @jessimay89 @bruher @riseandreigns4u @mariaelizabeth21-blog1
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pascalispimp · 3 months ago
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Through the Ashes
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Pairing: Joel miller x reader
Summary: In a world ravaged by loss and survival, Joel Miller has long believed that love is a luxury he can no longer afford. Haunted by his past and driven by the need to protect those he cares about, his heart is as guarded as the walls around the small community of Jackson. But when Birdie, a former Firefly with a mysterious connection to Ellie, arrives in Jackson, Joel’s world is turned upside down.
Warnings for series: some angst with happy ending. Mutual pining. Eventual smut. Unspecified age gap. Takes places after TLOU season 1. Not canon to game ending. Joel will get his happy ending. Jealous!Joel. Protective!Joel. Canon typical violence.
Word count: 3k
** Masterlist **
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Hi guys, this is my first fic in a very long time so please be kind. I’m posting the first chapter and if you guy’s enjoy it, let me know and I’ll post more. Would love to hear everyone’s thoughts on it!! Character doesn’t have a name but everyone calls her Birdie because of the Mockingbird tattoo on her arm.
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Chapter 1- The First Meeting
The snow fell steadily outside the cabin, the wind howling through the gaps in the wooden walls. Joel was in the middle of cleaning his rifle, the rhythmic scrape of the brush against the metal barrel soothing in its familiarity. Jackson was quiet today—too quiet, for Joel’s taste—but then again, it was the dead of winter. The few settlers who ventured out for patrols returned with little to report, just the bitter cold biting at their heels.
A knock at the door broke his concentration, sharp and unexpected. Joel frowned, setting the rifle down carefully on the table. Not many people came to his cabin unannounced, especially in weather like this.
“Who is it?” Joel called out, his voice rough, as he crossed the small room to the door.
“It’s me, Tommy,” came the muffled reply from the other side.
Joel unlocked the door and pulled it open, the cold air rushing in as he did. Tommy stood on the porch, bundled up in his thick coat, but it wasn’t Tommy who drew Joel’s attention. It was the woman standing next to him.
“Joel, I’d like you to meet someone,” Tommy said, stepping aside slightly. “This is” Tommy said, your name escaping his lips. “But I call her Birdie”
Her name struck a chord in Joel’s memory, and he realized why as soon as he looked into her eyes. Those eyes—so familiar, so much like Ellie’s, but older, more weathered by the world.
She stepped forward, pulling the scarf away from her face. Her features were sharp, angular, with a stubborn chin and eyes that had seen too much. Her long hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her face. There was something fierce about her, a hardness that reminded Joel of the survivors he’d met on the road, but there was also a sadness that softened her.
Joel repeated her name, his voice carefully neutral.
“She’s Ellie’s aunt,” Tommy said, glancing between them. “Her mom’s younger sister.”
Birdie gave a small, curt nod. “I’ve been looking for her—for years. Since Boston.”
Joel’s mind raced, trying to piece together what he knew of Anna, Ellie’s mother, and what she might have told him about family. But there had been little to go on. Anna had been a Firefly, just like Birdie apparently was—or had been.
“You’re a Firefly,” Joel said, the words coming out like an accusation.
Birdie’s expression tightened, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I was. Not anymore. That was… a long time ago.”
Tommy cleared his throat, sensing the tension between them. “Birdie’s been on the road for a while. Just got back here yesterday, actually after travelling back to Boston”
Joel nodded slowly, though his eyes never left Birdie’s. He could see the exhaustion in her, the weight of whatever she had endured in her search for Ellie. There was a moment of silence, heavy with unspoken questions. Why now? Why here?
“Ellie doesn’t know yet,” Birdie said quietly, as if reading his mind. “I haven’t figured out how to tell her. I needed to see her first��� to make sure she’s okay.”
“She’s fine,” Joel said, a bit too quickly, the protective edge in his voice undeniable. “She doesn’t need—”
“I’m not here to take her from you,” Birdie interrupted, her tone sharp, but not unkind. “I’m here because she’s all I have left.”
The words hung in the air between them, and Joel found himself softening, just slightly. He knew what it was like to lose everything, to have only one thing left in the world to hold onto. It was a pain that twisted and festered, driving people to do impossible things.
Tommy shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two. “Well, I’ll let you two talk. I need to check on Maria. Birdie, your place should be ready for you whenever you’re ready. Hasn’t been touched since you left.”
“Thank you, Tommy,” Birdie said, her eyes flicking to him before returning to Joel. “I appreciate it.”
Tommy gave them both a nod and then stepped off the porch, disappearing into the falling snow, leaving Joel and Birdie alone.
Joel stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. “You might as well get out of the cold.”
Birdie hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside. The warmth of the cabin hit her, and she could feel the chill starting to seep out of her bones. She unwound the scarf from her neck and shrugged off her coat, hanging it on the rack by the door. As she did, Joel couldn’t help but notice how thin she looked, how worn.
“Sit,” Joel said gruffly, motioning to the chair by the fire. “I’ll get you something warm.”
Birdie moved toward the chair, her eyes taking in the cabin as she did—a small, simple space, but well-kept, with everything in its place. She sat down slowly, the firelight casting flickering shadows across her face.
Joel busied himself with the kettle, filling it with water and setting it over the fire. His hands worked automatically, but his mind was racing. This woman—Ellie’s aunt—what was her angle? What did she want?
“I’m not here to make things difficult,” Birdie said suddenly, as if sensing his doubts. “I know what you did for Ellie. Tommy told me… some of it.”
Joel turned, his expression guarded. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Maybe not,” Birdie admitted. “But I know enough to be grateful. Ellie’s lucky to have you.”
Joel said nothing, his eyes searching her face for any sign of deception. But all he saw was sincerity, mixed with a weariness that matched his own. She wasn’t here to cause trouble; she was here because she had nowhere else to go.
The kettle began to whistle, and Joel turned back to pour the water into two mugs. He handed one to Birdie, who accepted it with a nod of thanks.
“So,” Joel said, settling into the chair opposite her, “what’s your plan?”
Birdie took a sip of the tea, the warmth spreading through her chest. She looked at him, her gaze steady. “I don’t have one. I just want to be a part of Ellie’s life, if she’ll have me. And if you’ll let me.”
Joel studied her for a long moment, the fire crackling between them. Finally, he nodded, a silent truce forming between them.
“We’ll see,” he said, his voice low. “But know this—if you hurt her, if you bring any trouble here…”
“I won’t,” Birdie cut him off, her voice firm. “I swear it.”
Another silence fell between them, this one less heavy, more accepting. They were two people with jagged pasts, brought together by the same person they loved more than anything in this broken world.
And though neither of them could have known it then, that moment—born of mutual understanding and a shared need for connection—was the first step toward something neither of them had dared to hope for.
Something like love.
—-
The mid-afternoon sun bathed Jackson in a soft, golden light as Ellie stood on the porch of Joel’s cabin, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. She glanced over at Joel, who was leaning against the wooden railing, his expression unreadable. He had been unusually quiet that day, and Ellie could sense the tension rolling off him in waves. Something was up, and it was putting her on edge.
“So… what’s this all about?” Ellie asked, her voice filled with cautious curiosity. She wasn’t used to Joel acting so cagey, and it made her uneasy.
Joel sighed, pushing himself off the railing and turning to face her. “There’s someone I want you to meet,” he said slowly, his eyes searching hers for a reaction. “Someone from your past.”
Ellie frowned, confused. She had already met everyone in Jackson who might have known her from before. Who could Joel be talking about? But before she could ask, the cabin door creaked open, and a woman stepped out onto the porch.
Ellie’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of the woman standing before her. She was tall, with her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her eyes—her eyes were so familiar. Ellie couldn’t place why at first, but something about them tugged at the edges of her memory.
“Ellie,” Joel said, his voice gentle but firm, “this is Birdie. She’s your mom’s younger sister.”
Ellie’s heart skipped a beat as the realization hit her. *My aunt.* She had never known her mother’s family—Joel had only told her bits and pieces about Anna, but never anything about anyone else. The idea that she had an aunt, someone who had been out there looking for her, was overwhelming.
Birdie took a tentative step forward, her eyes filled with emotion. “Ellie,” she said softly, her voice trembling just slightly. “I’ve been looking for you for so long.”
Ellie stiffened, the mix of emotions swirling inside her too complicated to untangle. Part of her wanted to run, to push this stranger away, to keep her distance as she had learned to do with everyone except Joel. But another part of her—a part she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time—wanted to reach out, to grab hold of this connection to her mother that she had thought she’d lost forever.
“I… I don’t remember you,” Ellie admitted, her voice shaky, her eyes darting to Joel for reassurance.
She smiled sadly, a soft, understanding look in her eyes. “You were just a baby the last time I saw you,” she said. “We were separated in Boston when the Fireflies took you after Anna, after she passed. I tried to find you, but by the time I got back… you were gone.”
Ellie swallowed hard, trying to process the flood of information. She had always wondered about her past, about the people she had lost, but she had never expected this—never expected to have someone from that past suddenly standing in front of her, claiming to have been searching for her all these years.
“I know this is a lot,” Birdie continued, her voice soft and patient. “And I don’t expect you to remember me, but I brought something that might help.”
She reached into the bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out a small, worn photo album. It was old, the edges frayed, but it had clearly been well cared for. Birdie opened it carefully, flipping through the pages until she found what she was looking for. She held it out to Ellie, her hands trembling slightly.
Ellie hesitated for a moment, glancing up at Joel again. He nodded encouragingly, though she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. It wasn’t like Joel to be so tense around new people—especially not someone he had invited into their lives. But there was something in his eyes that told her this was important, that this was something she needed to do.
Ellie took the album from her, her fingers brushing against the worn leather cover. She looked down at the picture on the page, her breath catching in her throat. It was a photograph of a woman holding a small child—a baby with big, curious eyes and a tuft of dark hair. The woman was smiling, a bright, loving smile, and Ellie felt a pang of recognition deep in her chest.
“That’s you, and me. Not long before you were taken.” She said softly, pointing to the baby in the picture. “And that’s your mom, not long before you were born.”
Ellie’s fingers traced the edges of the photograph, her heart pounding. She had seen pictures of her mother before, but never like this—never with her. There was something so achingly familiar about the woman in the picture, something that made Ellie’s chest tighten with emotion.
“I… I remember this,” Ellie whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I remember you holding me like this.”
Birdie smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. “You were so small, but you were already so strong. Just like your mom.”
Ellie’s throat tightened as she looked at the other photos in the album—pictures of her as a baby, pictures of her mother and Birdie together, smiling and laughing, snapshots of a life she had lost and never thought she’d find again. The memories were faint, like trying to grasp at wisps of smoke, but they were there, and as she looked at each picture, they became clearer, more vivid.
Joel watched them from the side, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He was happy for Ellie—truly, he was. Seeing her reconnect with a piece of her past, a piece of her mother, was something he had always wished for her. But at the same time, a pang of jealousy twisted in his gut, mingling with the protectiveness that had always been there, simmering just below the surface.
Birdie was Ellie’s blood, a living connection to her mother, and Joel knew that was something he could never be. He had tried his best to fill the role of father, of protector, but deep down, there was a fear—a fear that now that Ellie had someone else, someone from her past, she might need him less. The thought terrified him more than he could admit.
As Ellie continued to flip through the album, her eyes bright with a mix of wonder and sadness, Joel forced himself to push the jealousy aside, focusing instead on the way her face lit up with each new memory that surfaced. This was a good thing. He had to remind himself of that. She was here for Ellie, and that was what mattered.
“I can’t believe you kept these,” Ellie said, her voice trembling as she looked up at her, tears brimming in her eyes.
Birdie smiled, her own eyes wet. “I kept them for you. I knew that one day, I’d find you, and I wanted you to have something to remember her by.”
Ellie bit her lip, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
Birdie reached out, hesitating for just a moment before gently placing her hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “I’m so glad I found you, Ellie. I’ve missed you so much.”
Ellie looked up at her, the walls she had built around herself slowly crumbling. She could see the truth in her eyes—the love, the longing, the pain of having been separated for so long. It was the same pain Ellie had carried with her for years, the same sense of loss that had haunted her. But now, for the first time, it felt like that loss was being filled, piece by piece.
“I’ve missed you too,” Ellie admitted, her voice small, but filled with a deep, raw honesty. “Even if I didn’t remember, I missed you.”
Birdie’s face broke into a tearful smile, and she pulled Ellie into a gentle hug, holding her close as if she was afraid to let go. Ellie stiffened for a moment, unaccustomed to the sudden show of affection, but then she relaxed into the embrace, allowing herself to feel the warmth of it, the connection she had been missing for so long.
Joel watched them, his chest tight with a mix of emotions. He was happy—so damn happy—to see Ellie finding this connection, but the pang of jealousy was still there, sharp and insistent. He knew it was irrational, knew that Ellie’s love for her didn’t diminish what they had, but it was hard to shake the fear that had taken root in his heart.
Ellie finally pulled back from the hug, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked at Birdie, really looked at her, and for the first time, she saw the family resemblance—saw the way Birdie’s eyes mirrored her own, saw the way her smile reminded her of her mother.
“I want to know more,” Ellie said, her voice steadier now. “About her. About you.”
Birdie smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made Ellie feel like she was finally home. “I’ll tell you everything,” she promised. “Anything you want to know.”
Joel stepped forward, unable to stay on the sidelines any longer. He placed a hand on Ellie’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You two have a lot to catch up on,” he said, trying to keep his voice light, though the tension in his body betrayed him.
Ellie looked up at him, her expression softening. “You’re okay with this, right?” she asked, searching his face.
Joel nodded, forcing a smile. “Of course, kiddo. This is good. It’s what you need.”
Ellie studied him for a moment longer, sensing that something was off, but not quite able to place it. She reached up and covered his hand with hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re still my family, Joel. That’s never going to change.”
Joel’s heart swelled at her words, the jealousy easing just a little. He nodded, his throat too tight to speak, and gave her a small, grateful smile.
Birdie watched the exchange, understanding the depth of the bond between Joel and Ellie. She knew that Joel was protective of Ellie, that he had been her rock through everything, and she didn’t want to come between them. But she also knew that this was something Ellie needed, something that would help her heal.
“Joel,” She said gently, “thank you. For everything you’ve done for her. I can see how much she means to you.”
Joel met her gaze, and for a moment, there was an unspoken understanding between them—an acknowledgment of the roles they both played in Ellie’s life. Joel nodded, the tension in his chest easing just a bit more.
“She means everything to me,” Joel said quietly, his voice full of emotion.
Birdie smiled, her eyes soft with gratitude. “And now, she’s got both of us,” she said, her voice filled with hope.
Ellie looked between them, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had a real family—one that stretched back to her past and carried her into the future. And as she stood there, between Joel and Birdie, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she could finally start to heal.
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fairykazu · 4 months ago
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sweet to dream with kaeya prompt: red rose - falling head over heels in love petunia - realizing their feelings content: set in canon, teens, mutual pining, lazy ending :( (kaeya) ( requested by @kukikoooo ) event masterlist 𝜗𝜚 genshin masterlist
kaeya
the strongest memory that lingered in kaeya’s mind was when he caught feelings for you. though, by now everyone knows since it’s his favorite story to retell when he’s drunkenly babbling everyone in angel’s share ears off.
he was dumb and you were dumber. you protest otherwise. it’s okay to be in denial. 
in the outskirts of the city, he was knee-deep in a field of windwheel asters begrudgingly. "why did you pick the hottest day of the year to do this?" kaeya grumbled, sweat beading his forehead as he trudged through the asters’ field. 
the air was humid, carrying the faint scent of earth and the distant sweetness of blooming flowers. his boots crunched through the meadow, each step releasing a subtle scent of earthy grass. the midsummer sun blazed down upon him, turning the once vibrant greenery into a dreary sea of orange and terracotta. 
name was just right ahead of him. they were like a little rabbit, hopping throughout the fields. they were picking the "best" flowers one by one, filling up their weaved basket to the brim. while his was barely to the amount compared to theirs or at least, in his standards, he was also picking the best ones.
maybe he was the winner here because his flowers were picked with the utmost delicacy.
"well, the flowers are at their best today. besides, i heard that eula managed to get wind-caressed asters for amber! …" name replied with a bashful grin, their eyes sparkling with excitement. kaeya quirked a brow while they trailed off. "ahem, besides, I want everything to be perfect for the windblume festival."
kaeya chuckled at name's enthusiasm, a hint of mischief dancing in his own eyes. "You and your flower obsession" he teased, poking at name's arm playfully. the two of them had known each other since they were kids. they were like two peas in a pod, sticking together while their friendship had endured countless adventures in mondstadt. "but i guess, it's a good thing, it keeps you from burning down the city with your cooking."
they gasped, nearly dropping their basket on the ground. one thing about name, other than the terrible cooking skills, is that they have the flair for the dramatics. they draped one hand over their face, “but you said you loved my rendition of mint jelly and that everyone in dawn winery liked it too!” 
kaeya’s breath exhaled a laugh, trying to disguise it as cough, as he picked another aster into his basket. “ahaha… i lied.” 
“it was really hard, kaeya.” they whined in response, picking up the basket and continuing on to a different patch of asters. they rested on a nearby tree, sitting down. name pointed their finger at him, “everyone ate it too!” 
kaeya’s eyes grew wide, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. he leaned against the oak tree, trying to keep his laughter at bay. "no, they didn’t.” he put down their accusing finger down as if it was a weapon pointing at him.
the both of them sat in silence for a moment, the only sound being the gentle rustle of the leaves above them. name paused, pointing another finger at kaeya as he let out a laugh. they poked him in the shoulder, “yes, they did. even adelinde praised me!” 
“i ate them all.” 
“what?” 
kaeya went on a tangent about how even diluc didn’t like the mint jelly even though the redhead convinced you then that you were a baking prodigy. name recalled the moment when they caught kaeya stealing elzer’s jelly, insisting it was the best jelly he’d ever had. but in reality, he was just saving people’s taste buds and their pride. 
“was it really that bad?”  
“not the worst, ive tasted. it was kind of toothpasty.” 
“fine, fine. how many flowers did you collect for the festival?” they dismissed the situation, maybe to shield their own pride. kaeya tried to read their face but it’s clear name wanted to move on from this topic. the eyepatched boy handed them his basket of flowers that were supposedly in the best condition. they brought the basket to their lap, digging their face into the flowers, checking if they’re “perfect” enough. 
 “i got a couple… wait, why did you even want to do this again?” 
they repeated the same reason as before, added, “just want the perfect windblume festival with my favorite pers…”  they looked up from the basket, meeting eye contact with kaeya’s periwinkle eye. but then they paused, swallowing the words. it felt like eternity or at least, the representation of seeing a text bubble appear and disappear in person, in real life. “people. y’know, rosaria, jean, lisa and you…!” 
maybe, kaeya is naive but is he picking up what they’re putting down. “i like you…”  he watched their expression carefully.
they furrowed their brows before realizing what he just said. kaeya watched name mariante what he said on their shoulders before they freaked out a little. well, a little is a stretch. they shrieked, threw hte basket up before frantically catching the basket and landed on their side. “wait, really?” 
“yes.” 
“really?” 
“yes.” 
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velvetcloxds · 10 months ago
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FLEETING | E.M.
word count: 1k
warning: mutual pining, no happy ending per se, eddie x boss’ daughter!reader
summary: you realise the two of you aren’t being all that subtle with your little interactions and you wonder how long you have before your dad gets in the way
part one: linger
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You couldn’t think straight. You’d been making Eddie some special cappuccino from your secret stash, hallway through reminding him to talk to you and not around you because you couldn’t keep up, giggling as he made a show of looking you directly in the eyes with that boyish smile of his when you noticed Robin smirking from across the office at the sight of you.
She was convinced that Eddie was soft on you because he had a thing for you, you were convinced he was like that with everyone. He didn’t care much for space, or boundaries, you didn’t question him speaking with his head by your neck as he reached over you to point at your papers, thought he was being kind when he insisted on not taking lunch until you did cause he knew you’d not take it otherwise, he was just being friendly when he cursed off anyone who was mean to you, he smiled that much at everyone it didn’t mean anything that he did it for no real reason with you, he didn’t mean to touch your hand that often, wasn’t purposely bumping into you or sneaking up to you, and him jokingly serenading you when you were stressed was definitely him just being goofy.
Now you were spiralling, you thought the two of you were just comfortable, casual, now your head was in bits trying to figure out if you were doing anything to make her think otherwise as well. If only you knew she had the very same conversation with Eddie the day before. Pointed out how for some reason you didn’t mind sharing your things with him and how your strict hand sanitiser rules didn’t apply to him, how you didn’t mind asking him for help, brought him up in any conversation without prompt, looked for him first thing when you got to the office, kept track of his things because he left them all around or how every time he looked at you a little too long or said your name a little too softly or whispered something for you to remember you smiled bigger than you even realised. Eddie had his suspicions and you did too but it was easy to ignore the little things when the days were so chaotic.
Besides, your dad would have a heart attack knowing you even spoke to Eddie about anything but work, he’d pop an artery at the sight of his leg draped over yours or his lips on your cup or his hands on your shoulders, he’d send him packing on sight- not to mention what he’d do to you. Eddie was a good worker, hard worker, didn’t have to be checked on or threatened- your dad valued what he could do for him, but Eddie represented trouble in leather boots and rocker shirts and if this time of the year wasn’t such a horror show, Eddie would’ve been out the door the second he dared even look at you.
He was the only good part of working with your parents, he made it less torturous having to solve crisis after crisis because he didn’t leave you to your own devices. The logical part of you considered that if the two of you were so obvious about it that you should maybe take a step back, leave him be. The selfish part of you considered how nothing could become of your strange little connection, how eventually your dad would use him for maintenance instead of admin and you’d be sent off to one of the other buildings he managed, alone in a little office while you endured two more years of working there to complete university to get to real life. And the part that very rarely got a chance to have a say, the romantic side, well that part considered that no one has ever been this sweet and genuine with you before, that for whatever reason he brought a little joy into your life despite all the things about him that would usually scare you off, and you hoped there was something about you that did the same for him.
“Here, let me see,” you smiled, holding onto his finger and searching for a bandage in your bag, shaking your head as he looked at you so shyly, so pure. He’d been trying to multitask, talk and help and search for people on your list at the same time and caught his finger on a staple. “You can’t do everything at once, Eddie,” you noted and he rolled his eyes, watched your brows knit together as you wrapped his finger up. He didn’t deem it an injury worthy of the treatment he was getting, he’d hurt himself much worse when he was changing locks on rooms with your dad during the holidays but you were so serious about it, held onto the palm of his hand, brushed your thumb over the material to smooth it out and honestly he wasn’t going to stop you.
“But you can?” he countered, kicked lightly at your feet with his boots and leaned a little closer. “Thank you for my threat,” he tried to be soft about it, knew you didn’t hand out your stash to just anyone, knew he’d get himself another cup tomorrow if he looked at you just right, knew you’d get so flustered you’d offer to make it just to get a moment to compose yourself.
“Don’t tell the other boys,” you squeezed his hand, missed the feel of it when you dropped it, got a little container from your pocket and held it in front of him, he breathed a little laugh, he didn’t think you took him seriously when he told you to bake him some cookies to make up for having him run around the building for you. “They’ll think I have favourites.”
“Screw them,” he tutted and he meant it in more ways than one, they didn’t respect you in any way to begin with, wasn’t like they needed a reason in the first place, he knew you hadn’t given them one still. “Everyone knows I get special treatment.”
“From the boss’ daughter,” you gasped, stole the first cookie from his hand before he could bring it to his lips and shrugged, he laughed. “How lucky are you?” you were teasing, but the words did hold some sting, the title didn’t earn you many niceties around the motel.
“The luckiest,” and he stole the cookie right back, not a care as he bit into the side you’d been eating at, ever dramatic as he told you how much he loved it, how amazing you were, how pretty you looked in your pink dress and your hair down like that, how smart he thought you were for taking charge and creating a system from nothing. It was very daydream worthy, the butterflies lingered, but the concept was fleeting, your dad would come to take you to the new building before Eddie finished the drink in his disposable paper cup.
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selunesdreams · 3 months ago
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Somebody in the Hells Loves You
“Gale, I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, but what are you doing here? We haven’t spoken in years - we’re practically strangers-”
A bright white flash interrupted Florence, and she lifted her gaze to find a strange, tentacled ship tearing through the night sky.
“What in the hells?” Her body was frozen in terror. “Is that a-”
For once in his life, Gale was speechless, and as the ship rapidly approached, he cursed and grabbed Florence by the hand.
“Unless you want to see that thing from the inside, I suggest we run.”
Pairing: Gale x Named Tav/OFC
Summary: It’s been nearly a year since anyone has heard from Gale Dekarios. Once a promising mage, he now lives as a recluse, stripped of Mystra’s favor and cursed by netherese magic due to a well-intentioned but catastrophic mistake.
For Florence Ashveil, who left Blackstaff Academy years ago after circumstances thwarted her dreams of becoming one of the best and brightest wizards of her generation, the silence has been even longer. But when their paths cross again just as they are abducted by a Nautiloid ship, it seems they’ll have plenty of time to get reacquainted.
Rating: mature
Words: 3.8k
Tags: just-fucked-it-up-with-Mystra era Gale, slow burn, mutual pining, mysterious past, baggage, sexual/romantic tension Warnings: brief tangential mention of Astarion-related trauma, not graphic, viewed as flashback.
a/n: Welcome to my first Gale fic! The pipeline is real. This story is still developing, so I'm not sure how the rating/tags will be impacted. It's reasonable to expect some eventual smut. Sorry if you were waiting on the next installment of Forms of Imprisonment, I got distracted by this one but promise it’s coming soon!
There were countless times in Florence Ashveil’s thirty years of life when she complained she “ was in the Hells .” Secondary school, family reunions, her first breakup - her mother had chastised her on each occasion, explaining ad nauseam how everyone endures such things, that they don’t equate to suffering a place like Avernus. Once, during exams week, her second year at the Academy, she wrote the phrase in a letter home and received a pigeon from Cora Ashveil the next day.
“I pray you never truly experience the hells, Flossie, because I fear your poor tolerance for distress would set you up poorly for surviving them.”
If only her mother could see her now.
*Hours Earlier*
Florence perused the offerings of the crowded Waterdeep Market alone, following her usual Tenthday ritual. Hundreds of stalls and camped vendors shouted at passing visitors, vying for their gold. A few called out to her with flirtatious compliments, encouraging her to come closer or try a free sample, and she shook her head with a terse smile, keeping wary of thieves. Her fingers touched her coin purse several times to confirm it was still there. She stopped at her usual booth, inspecting produce with a frown as she tried to ignore the never ending voices screeching in her mind.
Check for worms, maggots - what if they’re infested with maggots and you don’t see-
Relief came as distraction - an ostentatious, familiar voice, chatting with a nearby vendor, as if incapable of stopping.
“Did you know the skin of a kiwi is just as edible as the rest of it? I had a friend from Snowdown as a child, his family had vines upon vines of the things growing-”
Gale Dekarios.
It had been roughly a year since the public had seen him, and even longer for Florence. The last time they were in the same room, he’d given her a wistful look as she carried her belongings out of the Academy, books tucked under one arm, her bag slung over the opposite shoulder. She’d kept her eyes downcast, and shuffled out the door as her mentor, Vajra Safahr, solemnly escorted her out. Gale had opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but quickly closed it and disappeared down the hall. Florence somehow found the idea of him pitying her more mortifying than the whispers as she left Blackstaff Academy for good.
So when she’d heard he’d become a recluse after an erroneous act of devotion to gain Mystra’s approval, she’d wondered if it had felt the same to him as it did her - to lose your chance at greatness because your weakness got in the way. There had been rumors he and the goddess were involved in romantically, beyond the magic and mentorship. The news hadn’t shocked Florence. Gale Dekarios, a man of massive talent with the Art, was also not difficult to look at.
And Mystra was…Mystra.
“Florence, is that you?”
He squinted in her direction right as she attempted to duck behind a fruit crate and clumsily, she dropped the cabbage she had been examining into the dirt.
“Shit.”
She stooped to grab it just as Gale’s fingers reached it, and he held it out in his palm, like some sort of offering.
Contaminated, filthy, don’t touch it, throw it away, throw it away-
“Gale! I-”
“Apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten-”
“-such an idiot, head’s always somewhere else these days-”
They both fell silent, realizing they’d been nervously chattering over one another, and Gale placed his hand on her arm with a soft chuckle. The gesture was tender, unassuming, and a wave of warmth spread through her body in response. No one had touched her in years, save the occasional side-hug from her mother.
“It’s good to see you.” He said earnestly, with a thin-lipped smile as he stood from his crouch beside her. She caught something in his gaze, akin to pity, as he assessed her, and she felt sick.
“Likewise, I…how have you been?” She passed the produce vendor a few coins with an apology and awkwardly carried the cabbage as they stepped to a nearby wall to move away from the busy path.
“I spent most of the last year in my tower, essentially a hermit. Gets rather lonely, but I do at least have-“ he stopped himself and cleared his throat. “Apologies, I’ve…not spoken to anyone but my Tressym in quite some time.”
“I had heard, are you…well?”
“Yes, yes, everyone’s familiar with the rumors.” He waved dismissively, and a shadow crossed his features. “But how are you , Florence? Surely up to something magnificent. As I recall, you were talented with the Art, much more so than our peers…”
“Oh, I…I’m actually…” she released a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, “I have nothing impressive to report, honestly. I work at St. Laupsenn as a potions artificer.”
“St. Laupsenn, truly? I spent a little time convalescing there with a nasty case of ruddy pox. For all their kindness, leaving that place was a relief like no other…” He trailed off. “Surely there are other notable things happening in your life? Extracurriculars? Don’t tell me you’re wasting your talent brewing healing potions for a living…”
“I…have a shift at the Hanging Lantern a few nights every ten-day.”
As the words fell from her lips, Florence realized she’d just told him she moonlighted at one of the most notorious Festhalls in Waterdeep with no further context. She watched his face reveal all his thoughts as he processed what she’d said.
He blushed. “The Hanging Lantern? Ah - not what I’d expected, but I’m sure you - do you…?”
“Oh! Oh no, I hardly have the looks for that-“ she forced a laugh to displace her discomfort, “I play piano. Set the ambiance, you know, so they can do all the hard work.”
She swallowed and glanced over her shoulder.
“Of course! How could I forget! You always had a beautiful way with music, invariably working your craft into how you wielded magic. Truly creative, poetic, even…”
Florence had appreciated his verbosity, and never quite succumbed to the bitter jealousy her classmates had towards Gale. Perhaps he stumbled over words or bragged a bit too much, but at his core, he meant well. She believed that sincerely. However, as she stood in the middle of the market, she wished she was anywhere else as she made small talk with the renowned wizard.
“I ah…I apologize, Gale. You caught me at an inopportune moment. I have actually somewhere to be, but it was lovely catching up with you.” She placed a delicate touch on his forearm. “Perhaps we’ll cross paths again soon?”
“Yes, yes, I hope we do. Don’t let me keep you. It was a pleasure speaking with you.”
If he tried to conceal his disappointment, he did a poor job of it. Gods, he must have been so lonely this past year. She nodded politely and, as she change direction to leave, his smile faltered. She’d gotten several steps away before she heard him clear his throat and call after her.
“Florence?”
“Yes?” She turned, her mind focused on the produce still in her hands. Invisible dirt and grime on her fingers preoccupied her every thought. She yearned to toss it in the nearest bin as fast as she could and scrub underneath her nails until they bled.
“I…for what it’s worth, if you wanted to, I think you have the looks for anything. I’m sure you look lovely at that piano every night.”
She blinked at him as he turned and walked away without another word. Behind her, a rothé reached over the wooden fence of its pen and nibbled at her hand. She stepped away, startled.
“Here,” she said, extending the cabbage to it, “it’s all yours.”
The rothé accepted her offering and dropped it to the earth, grazing at it with appreciation. Florence wiped her hands on the waist of her trousers several times and walked home with an empty market basket and the makings of a headache.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
He was in the crowd.
Gods-be-fucking-damned he was in the crowd. She should have never told him where she worked.
Florence set her sheet music on the piano, despite her lack of need for it. She’d memorized everything, but it gave her something to focus on, particularly on nights like tonight when she was prone to distraction. Typically, an over-familiar gentleman would question her about her personal life, or a fight would break out at the bar. Tonight, Gale Dekarios beamed at her and waved cordially from a booth.
Hells.
Surprisingly, the night progressed without incident, and she eventually forgot he was there. Once she’d packed her things into her bag and walked out onto the dimly lit street, Gale was leaning against the side of the tavern, arms crossed in front of him.
“Excellent musicianship.” He complimented her and pushed off the wall. “Apologies if my attendance was disruptive, it’s…been a while since I’ve been out or seen an old friend.”
Friend? She thought to herself. How loosely did this man define friendship? To seek her company. How lonely must he have been?
“Thanks…I rarely have people stop by to listen to me play. I’m more…background noise.”
“I did have to, rather awkwardly, explain my business there when I wasn’t interested in paying for…companionship, but it’s always good to get away from typical comforts…”
She stopped walking and turned to him.
“Gale, I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, but what are you doing here? We haven’t spoken in years - we’re practically strangers and-”
A bright white flash interrupted Florence, and she lifted her gaze to find a strange, tentacled ship tearing through the night sky. People screamed around them and the streets flooded with chaos as bodies collided with one another, stampeding towards hope of escape.
“What in the hells?” Her body was frozen in terror. “Is that a-“
For once in his life, Gale seemed speechless, and as the ship rapidly approached, he cursed and grabbed Florence by the hand.
“Unless you want to see that thing from the inside, I suggest we run.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The tadpole wriggled in her brain like a slithering migraine while her breath fogged the glass of her containment pod. As she returned to consciousness, she kicked and slammed her fists against the window, desperately trying to break out.
A sphincter shaped gate opened across the room, splayed apart in a disturbing manner. Through the fogged window, she glimpsed a githyanki searching the room, trailed by a dark-haired woman with unfortunate bangs and…
Him.
“Help! Get me out! Please!”
Florence prayed her cries would make it through the thick walls of the pod, and to her relief, Gale’s head snapped towards her and he rushed over, investigating the exterior for any indications of weakness.
“There you are! Hold on!” He pressed a hand to the glass to reassure her, and she touched it from the other side.
He’d been looking for her.
Muffled by her vessel of containment, she heard the gith arguing with him, insisting they leave her to die. When he refused, the gith left on her own, and Florence couldn’t blame her. They were wasting valuable time.
She watched him run back and forth across the ship several times before he made any progress, the dark-haired woman lingering near the door until he returned to the pod with a triumphant grin and a strange rune. He inserted it into a nearby console and the seal broke and hissed. A mist rose around her before she was ejected onto her hands and knees, and she struggled to catch her breath, body convulsing as she vomited. Gale rushed to her side, dropping to his knees, and rested his hand on her shoulder with a grimace as she retched.
“Never thought I’d get you out of there.”
“Thanks for saving me.” She panted and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm.
��There will be time to debrief later. The ship’s crashing and if we delay any longer, we’re dead!” Shadowheart yanked Florence from the floor and shoved her towards Gale. He held an arm around her shoulders to steady her.
With a cough, Florence nodded in agreement. “Lead the way.”
They followed the woman through vesseled passageways, using Gale as a support until she got her bearings.
“I see you made friends.” She said as they dodged smoldering piles of ash and carrion as dragons soared dangerously close to the sides of the vessel, screeching and roaring as they set fire to the ship.
“That’s Shadowheart. I found her trapped in a pod, like you.”
“Enough dawdling! We are wasting time.” The githyanki shouted as they met her at the ship’s helm.
“And that’s Lae’zel.” He murmured.
Blocking their path, a Mindflayer fought a large cambion in, and Florence clutched her head as his voice echoed inside of her brain.
“Get to the helm, I’ll hold them back.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Gale said and drew an arcane gate for the four of them. He gripped Florence around the waist and pulled her through, letting go once they stepped through the portal, and began fumbling with the controls. As he did so, a brain with legs and claws scrambled up and stopped at Gale’s feet.
Florence’s eyes widened in alarm, and she instinctively took a step back. “What is that?!” she shrieked.
Gale, his attention still fixed on the console, replied, “I... don’t rightly know, but it seems to be on our side.” He paused for a moment, his brow furrowing. “It called itself Kitty at one point, but I pulled it out of a human skull, so I’m not sure if that’s a comfort.”
“Gods, I’m going to faint.”
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.” Gale responded, and with a final flick of a switch, the console hummed to life, stopping the vessel dead in the air.
“Ha!” He said triumphantly, “See? Everything will be just-“
Suddenly, the ship jolted, emitting a loud creak, and darkness consumed all light in view.
“K’chakhi!” Lae’zel pushed Gale out of the way and studied the console. “You’ve cut the power. We’ll crash!”
“Brace yourselves!” Shadowheart warned. Florence searched for something to hold on to, but when the Nautiloid careened to the side, she slipped through the air with no hope of saving herself. Panic gripped her as she plummeted towards her certain death, the others falling just a few feet above her.
“Take my hand!” Gale’s voice cut through the chaos, grasping for her as they free fell. “There’s a transportation sigil on that rock below. I’ll try to get us there-”
His strained fingertips grazed her skin, and he seized her by the wrist. Midair. He seized her by the wrist and pulled her against him, transporting them from the sky to the arcane sigil. Suspended in time and space, Florence’s panic grew. Gale held her close enough that she could smell the cologne that lingered on his neck. An earthy, spicy blend of cedar, sage, and ginger. Just underneath his shirt, she caught a faint glow. Some sort of magically infused tattoo?
“My magic is…diminished, of late.” He confessed over the dull roar of the void. The sporadic swirls of light inside the sigil illuminated his grim expression. “I can only get one of us out. Find me and-”
She hit the solid ground with a thud before he even finished speaking, and the force knocked the wind from her lungs. Blinded by the sun, Florence squinted and threw a hand in front of her face, looking out at the vast body of water shimmering ahead of her. Time passed differently in magical planes, and it seemed hours had elapsed in the seconds the sigil had trapped them. Fortunately, Gale had transported her to this beach, and not an entirely different dimension.
She pushed herself up from the ground and clapped away the sand sticking to her palms. When she turned, she found the Nautiloid wrecked behind her. From the state of it, survivors were unlikely. She kept vigilant as she moved through the rubble, scanning her surroundings for any signs of Gale.
“I saw you. You were on that ship. You’re one of them.”
A pale, ruby-eyed elf with white hair darted into her path and drew his dagger. She raised her palms in a peaceful gesture.
“I fell from the Nautiloid, abducted, just like you.”
“Do you take me for a fool? You teleported!”
“I don’t have time for this,” Florence grumbled. She pushed past him and stormed up the beach and into the wreckage.
“Wait! Where are you going?” He shouted, too stunned to react.
Ignoring his protests, she wandered through the smouldering remains of the ship until a familiar, whooshing sound of a portal caught her attention. Florence exhaled with relief at the sight of Gale’s arm sticking out of the swirling violet hole.
“A hand? Anyone?”
Without hesitation, she grabbed his arm and pulled with all her strength until the portal spat him out. She fell backwards, and he landed on top of her, inadvertently pinning her down.
“Are you alright?” Concern etched his face as he stared down at her. “I hope I didn’t send you too far...”
“I’m fine, but Gale, what-“ Florence began, her words interrupted by a voice from behind.
“My, my. Seems you found your missing friend.” The elf from the beach was leaning against a nearby boulder, hand still on the hilt of his dagger. A clear warning.
“Ah, I didn’t realize we had company.” With an apology, he scrambled off of Florence and helped her to her feet before turning to the elf.
“I take it you too were the victim of a rather unpleasant ocular insertion?” Gale tapped his temple and brushed himself off, extending a hand. “I’m Gale, of Waterdeep-”
“I suggest you stow that hand if you’d prefer to keep it, wizard.”
“Lovely friend you’ve made already, Florence.” Gale mumbled and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets as he bowed his head to Astarion. “I’d advise you to stow that blade or I’ll have to- ack!”
A sharp, searing pain erupted between Florence’s temples. The world seemed to spin as visions, not her own, flashed before her.
You sat cross-legged in a tavern with a hand atop a young patriar’s, sharing a bottle of wine. His other hand touched your knee, and you kissed him, but your chest caved in with repulsion. You insisted he blow the candles out when you reached his room, and eyes open in the dark, you focused on one spot of light, cast from the window, until it was all over -
The vision stuttered and slipped away, fading into…
Darkness. Never ending darkness. Violet-black of the shadow weave swirling as the mark on your chest throbbed harder than your aching heart. You almost had everything, and you gave it all up to impress her. You failed, never good enough. She’ll never forgive you. She doesn’t want you. Nobody could want you, not if they knew-
Florence held her arms out, grasping for anything to anchor herself as another vision flooded her senses like a crashing wave. Her fingertips brushed against the coarse surface of the boulder, and she leaned on it for support as a surge of alien memories invaded her mind.
Swiftly maneuvering through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, you ran for your life, but it was too-
A thunderous crack suddenly filled her head, causing her to lose her balance and fall on all fours.
The woman at the piano was someone you thought you could have fallen for, once. Her chestnut hair fell across her face as she played, the soft curve of her half-elvish ears peeking through thick waves as her bottom lip jutted out. You recognized that look, the focus in it. Such talent, such promise. What terrible thing befell her? Why did she leave the Academy? You never got a goodbye, but perhaps it was foolish to expect one. But you approached her at the market because she was like a beacon of hope. Something familiar from your past that you wished you’d paid more attention to rather than-
“Ugh!”
As Florence regained consciousness, she blinked furiously to ease the pulsating burn in her head. Her tadpole seemed to wriggle with recognition, then settled, seemingly sated. She spared a glance in Gale’s direction. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his hand pressed tightly against his heart with a pained expression, as he avoided meeting anyone’s gaze.
“What in the hells what that?” The elf demanded.
“I think we were in each other’s heads…” she groaned.
“Well, it seems you were telling the truth, after all.” With an apologetic smile, he sheathed his blade and wiped his hands on his belt.
“Let’s start over. I’m Astarion.”
“Pleasure.” Gale responded sarcastically and stood with a grunt. Strategically, almost possessively, positioned between Florence and Astarion, he supported her as she rose from the ground, not turning his back to their new acquaintance. Once more, the peculiar tattoo caught her attention, visible beneath his shirt collar. It no longer glowed, but in the light she could see that it subtly connected to the crinkle of his eye, as if magic tunneled through the capillaries under his skin.
“Likewise.” Astarion said. “So, do you have any idea what these…things are in our heads?”
“Tadpoles.” Gale said, “It appears our minds are linked. Unless you know a healer, in a few days’ time, we’ll undergo ceremorphosis and become mindflayers.”
“Mindflayers? Ha… ha!” The elf cackled, “of course we will.”
“We should stick together until we find someone who can extract them. There were others on the ship. I’d like to see if they survived the crash as well.”
“The more the merrier.” Astarion’s demeanor was suspiciously cheerful, a stark contrast to their earlier interaction. Florence had worked in a Festhall for three years, she could easily spot a charlatan. But rather than press the issue, she chose instead to concentrate on surviving the night without becoming illithid.
They found Shadowheart unconscious on the beach as they wandered the debris in search of supplies. Procuring bedrolls, some abandoned packs from fishing posts nearby, and a few dinner rations, Gale suggested they regroup and rest until morning.
“Out here? In the wilds?” Florence picked at the skin around her thumb and glanced towards the burning ship behind them.
“Presumably, there won’t be a tavern for miles. I think we’re roughing it.” Gale’s expression seemed genuinely sympathetic, which came as a relief, because she felt quite high maintenance complaining under the circumstances.
Astarion edged closer to her, “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll keep you safe,” and she swore she caught a disapproving scowl on Gale’s face before he retreated to the edge of camp, explaining, with some urgency, that he needed to get a sending spell to someone in Waterdeep to check on his Tressym.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/feedback/constructive criticism (this is not peer read) and a kudos on AO3 if you enjoyed (or feel free to hate-kudos it, I won't mind.)
If you'd like, you can connect with me here on Tumblr or check out my Astarion fic (that features Gale), Forms of Imprisonment!
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eldrith · 3 months ago
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Theres been some debate about Jace and coochie eating.
Like some fics have him as eating out random girls before he gets with his s/o who he has ben pining over for years and people are like that is OOC and kind of cheating and trashy so what are your thoughts? Like people were saying that fic Jace ate out some girls but never had sex that it was worse cause giving a woman oral is more personal
ok so buckle up lol this is long bc i have several things id like to consider.
TLDR: i think that everyone here has beautiful brains and are entitled to interpret characters how they want. after all, this is all just fiction about fiction. literally none of it is real. jace isn’t real. (that being said, fiction should not perpetuate or glorify unhealthy relationships.) and when i see fics where he may be ooc or just fics i don’t like, i just…stop reading them lol. bc other people like it. and i like to write things similar to ones i like to read, even if ppl interpret characters different. so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
as i always say: do what you love 🫶🏻
but (many) more thoughts below
firstly, i have written fics where jace has gone down on others that aren’t his s/o - and the reader in that story has also experienced similar situations with others that weren’t him. i do not think this takes away from their personal honor. i suppose in fics where they’re, like, married or in a loving betrothal, and he goes off and just like hooks up with another random person, that’s different and is cheating. but i haven’t read/written any that i interpreted that way.
also id like to bring up that, while for some people oral can be more personal… it has to be said that sex is a spectrum and i think assuming certain aspects of intimacy are more ‘personal’ than others isn’t universal to everyone’s perception and preferences. i don’t personally think it’s dirty when someone has experience. and while i can completely understand why people feel that oral is more personal to themselves, i personally dont agree with that for myself and my experiences. going down on someone isn’t that personal for me and i think it’s all subjective anyways.
that being said, back to fiction and writing, i could see both ways. i do like a jace who rly is just inexperienced - i don’t see him as being innocent though. he knows - he grew up around men and boys older than him (are you telling me he didn’t endure many sexual tales from Aegon etc) and certainly learned what it’s like.
i don’t personally hc that jace ever went to a brothel or anything (me saying that & having written this fic, to show that even single writers can interpret characters in multiple ways). and i don’t personally see him fully sleeping with someone before he’s married to them (because of the whole… yknow… bastard thing.)
but in my opinion and my writings (bc again, this is fiction and the beauty of that is that everyone can interpret things differently!) he honors women enough to know that they have the same amount of control over sex as a man could. if he likes a woman and she likes him and wants to hook up, and they’re fully honest about themselves (no lying bc jace wouldn’t do that), why not. he wouldn’t be upset if a woman he loves has been with another man in some way previously because he’s not… insanely possessive, and i think he’d find a s/o who felt the same way with him. (if he was completely inexperienced and his s/o was not, he may be worried about not knowing what to do sex wise, but jace is sex positive yall.)
that’s why i can also see jace as having a little experience. perhaps meeting someone that he ends up having feelings for who he isn’t betrothed to - it’s also completely natural to be sexually attracted to people even when you have someone you have been ‘in love with’ for most of your life. it happens literally all the time. & i feel like a lot of fics are like ‘Jace and reader have been in love forever since they grew up together’ and like yes i like that trope but if you spend like 10 years apart… or believe you’re not going to be together in the end… i could see jace having moments where he likes someone else and gains some sexual experience. even if there is an overarching romantic plot with someone else lol.
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winchestergirl2 · 11 months ago
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December Reading Recs
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Thank you to all the incredible writers here on tumblr, who provide us with these fantastic stories and thank you to everyone who interacts with these fic recs posts to help spread the love for these writers.
Happy New Year everyone, and happy reading!
To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖
Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.
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2023 Reading Rec List
Supernatural
Sam Winchester
Take Me Back Series Chapter 3 | Epilogue | @kaleldobrev
Authors Summary: After making a deal to bring you back, Sam doesn't see you until years later when your paths cross during a case
The Widow Timestamp: I Love You @pink-sparkly-witch
Authors Summary: Sam tells Y/N that he loves her for the first time. This is basically PWP.
The Widow Timestamp: Marry Me? @pink-sparkly-witch
Authors Summary: It’s almost Christmas, and Sam has an important question to ask you.
A Blacksmiths Hands @sams-sass
Fall For You @justagirlinafandomworld
Authors Summary: You don’t always go flying through the air. But when you do, there is one Winchester who is always there to catch you. Or. A series of times you and Sam fell over each other. And Dean’s there.
Imagine Walking Your Dog With Sam @imagineteamfreewill
Dean Winchester
Smoke Eater Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | @zepskies
Authors Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
The One That Got Away Epilogue @pink-sparkly-witch
Authors Summary: Childhood sweethearts, Dean and Y/N, are very much in love with each other. When she accepts a full scholarship to an out-of-state college, she finally gets to leave behind her traumatic childhood and abusive father, but it means leaving Dean behind too.
Over a decade later, Y/N returns to Lawrence, Kansas, and finally tries to heal the only wounds she has left… the psychological and emotional scars her father gave her and the heartbreak she endured by Dean Winchester, the one that got away.
Just Thought You Should Know @smellingofpoetry
Authors Summary: It was just one of those drunk calls until it wasn't anymore.
Christmas Boredom @soaringeag1e
Screw Consciousness @kaleldobrev
Authors Summary: Taking a nap with Dean after a long drive
Strangers @smellingofpoetry
Authors Summary: They were just two strangers, dancing in the middle of a club.
10 Inch Hero
Boaz Priestly
Black and Blue @lipstickandwhiskey
Authors Summary: You can’t help your feelings for your friend, but maybe some jerk will give you a push in the right direction?
Pondering Fate While Ignoring The Obvious @impala-dreamer
Authors Summary: Priestly has got it so bad for Tish that he can barely see past the end of her... well, her back end, anyway. He's love sick and forever rejected, constantly stuck inside his own head. When a new girl in town starts messing with him, he quickly loses his cool...
Unique and Brightly - Colored @crashdevlin
Authors Summary: You don't like Priestly's new look and you really don't like the reasoning behind it.
Smallville
Jason Teague
Miss Professor @zepskies
Authors Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.
The Boys
Soldier Boy
Memories Are All I Have @kaleldobrev
Authors Summary: You’re all Ben thinks about while he’s in Russia
From Russia With Love @kaleldobrev
Authors Summary: You’re the first person Ben goes to see after escaping from Russia
House
Robert Chase
Kiss and Tell @iwritefandomimagines
Authors Summary: after endless mutual pining, you and chase finally hooked up over the weekend. you agreed to keep it a secret while you figured things out, but it doesn’t last long with the team around.
Dark Angel
Alec Mcdowell
Not So Lonely Christmas @daughterofcain-67
Authors Summary: You’re beginning to grow accustomed to doing things by yourself now that you’ve moved away from family, but your friends at Jam Pony seem to forget that Christmases after moving to a brand new area can often result in being alone during the holiday season… and Alec won’t stand for it.
Bullseye @zepskies
Authors Summary: Alec’s tired of being ignored. Whatever you’re reading can’t be as interesting as his company, now could it?
Chicago Fire
Matt Casey
Untitled Imagine @deanstead
Authors Summary: Imagine: Matt looking for his captain jacket and finding it on you
Any Fandom
Unamed Male (Choose your own)
Midnight @kittenofdoomage
Authors Summary: New Year’s Eve brings a surprise at the end of a crappy year.
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alright time to finally get rid of one of my drafts here we go: “fuck you,” “you really want to?”
Modern High Demon Slayer School AU!
Characters: Uzui Tengen, L/N Y/N
Ft. Iguro Obanai, Kanroji Mitsuri, Kocho Shinobu, Rengoku Kyojuro, Human!Kaburamaru
With minuscule appearances from: Kocho Kanao, Kamado Nezuko
CW/TW: Tengen being a menace, science project, performer reader (though it's not really that important, just added it for contrast), popularity, forced proximity (sort of), suggestive if you squint so hard your eyes almost close, pining (brief, from Mitsuri), flirting, insults (like a lot of insults), slow burn, reader called kitten, detailed kiss
WC: approx. 1.5k words
High School!Soccer Player!Uzui Tengen x High School!Fem!Performer!Reader
A/N: the science project is quite literally what I did for my sixth grade science fair. that was hell. even worse, i picked the subject, i put myself in living hell for a month and endured it. be glad you probably will never have to do something like that ever
A/N 2: also yes, i know dating in japanese schools isn’t allowed, but when has fanfic ever been realistic. however i do maintain the name order of family name first~
A/N 3: pls i haven’t written for real in a while be nice if im rusty
~3rd person POV~
It was no secret that you hated Uzui Tengen. The entire school had known since you met in sixth grade. You had just moved to Tokyo from [your hometown]. You were one of the most popular students at your old school for your looks, kind personality, good grades, and charm, especially when performing. You weren’t an ass about it, though, and when you moved to Tokyo you didn’t really care if you were popular or not, just wanting to get settled in first. That all changed when you met Uzui Tengen, a boy who would soon prove to be the bane of your existence. He started off seemingly nice and, like everyone else, you couldn’t deny his attractive appearance. He’d show you around the school and help you get to classes. Shortly after you became acquainted, however, things changed. Tengen began to show his true, asshole, colors. He flaunted his popularity at every chance, used his figure to get girls (and the occasional guy *cough cough his brief stint with rengoku*), and was overall just an undesirable person. To make things even more cliché, he was the best player on the school soccer team. After two weeks of attending the school, his greeting went from “Hey! How was your night?” To: “Hey, I’m not going to walk with you because you’re worthless,” Maybe that wasn’t exactly what he said, but you couldn’t exactly remember. He quickly started treating you like shit, that’s the point. From that day on, you tried to become popular again. You wanted to make Tengen eat his words. Ever since sixth grade, you had been popular not only for your personality and charm, but for your feud with Tengen and being the only one able to get a rise out of him.
~Your POV~
"Either he has a crush on you or he's threatened and an ass. I think it's the first!" Piped Mitsuri as she took a bite out of her salmon onigiri. "You seriously think it's a crush?" You asked. 
"There's no way he'd have a crush on you, he's just a jealous ass," Shinobu said as she peeled her orange. "Don't waste your time on him, Y/N." Junior year had finally arrived, and you were so close to senior year and graduating that you could almost taste it. It would've been an idyllic year if it weren't for Tengen having gotten even more annoying than before, if that was even possible. You were both on top of the popularity chain, him being the captain of the school soccer (football) team, and you being a performer. Starkly different interests for starkly different personalities. "Speak of the devil, here he comes." You say, noticing him and his friends walk into the cafeteria.
"You know what that means, Mitsuri..." Says Shinobu. You hear Mitsuri squeal audibly quietly when she sees Obanai. "Shit, he's coming this way..." You say. Shinobu rolls her eyes and Mitsuri scowls, albeit excited to see Obanai.
As the quartet approaches you and your two friends, you turn back to your food, not wanting to deal with Tengen's antics. You feel a large hand ruffle your well styled hair, and upon instinct bring a hand up to slap his face. "What is with you and my hair? You have your own, don't you? Mess that up, dumbass." You say cooly. You had managed to hit his eye, which he now stood scratching. "And you have your own face that you could hit instead of mine!" He shoots, calm demeanor coming undone from just a simple smack. You smirk, knowing your effect on him is working. "But my face is far too pretty to hit, don't you think?" You quip. 
"I think mine is the one that's too pretty to hit, yours is the plain one, isn't it?" He replied.
"Bitch, I'm not a mirror." You simply say. Cool demeanor never faltering despite the blatant lie you just told. His face was pretty and you knew it, everyone knew it, but there was no way you would feed his ego. Ever. It was far too high already. "You know, Y/N, the most annoying part of you isn't your voice, popularity, or personality. It's the fact I can never seem to be able to get a rise out of you. I can't get you angry, yet you can get me livid with a simple word." He says, bending down to whisper it in your ear. You felt your cheeks heat up. Wait, what? You were... blushing? Over Uzui? No, there was no way, it must've just been the position. Anyone would blush over a blatantly attractive guy whispering in their ear, right? Right? "Uzui, have you heard of manners?" You step on his foot and stand up, cheeks quickly cooling. "OWWWW! That really hurt, Y/N! My ego, wounded..." He feigned pain poorly.
"Uzui, calm down. Your ego needed it." You shoot back before leaving. "Rengoku, Obanai, Kaburamaru... I don't know why you associate yourselves with this piece of shit, but I feel bad for you. It must be hard, dealing with such an annoying guy all the time." A comment meant solely for Tengen to hear. His friends were nice, they just happened to hang out with the wrong guy. And with that you excuse yourself from the cafeteria and head outside to enjoy the rest of your break.
~TIME SKIP TO THE NEXT DAY~
You sat in science class, only half paying attention to what the teacher was saying. She was only collecting homework after all. Suddenly, you hear you name. "L/N with Uzui. Kocho with Shinazugawa. And Kanroji with Kamado. Alright, those are your groups." She says. Shit. You think to yourself. We're doing a project, and I'm with Tengen of all people... "Your assignment is to test how fast light travels through different amounts of water and milk. I expect well written lab reports from all 20 of you by the 5th of next month, so you all have two weeks. Class dismissed." She concluded just as the bell rang. You packed your bag and left the classroom, excited to go home now that 7th period had ended. You rushed to your locker when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Thinking it was Shinobu or Mitsuri, you made the ill-informed discision to turn around. There you were met with Tengen's annoyingly handsome face smiling at you. "What do you want?" You snap.
"Woah, easy, kitten... I'm just here about the science project," He says, the new name not going unnoticed by you. "My name isn't kitten, it's Y/N. You know this, why the sudden new name?" You spit.
"Because otherwise I wouldn't be very flashy, now would I?"
"Oh fuck you and your flashiness." You retort while crossing your arms.
"How your words wound me," He feigns pain.
"I am fully capable of making that pain physical, too, you know."
"You wouldn't dare, kitten, you like me too much!" You stand at a loss for words at the continuous use of the name, heat buzzing through your cheeks, heart racing uncomfortably. "F-fuck you!" You argue, flustered.
"Already used that one, kitten. In any case, when do you want to meet to do the project?"
"Preferably never." You shoot, cheeks still red.
"Oh, but we have to pick a time... how about tomorrow at my house?"
"Fine." You shoot, turning your face away and leaving down the school stairs.
~time skip (sorry)~
The next day, you leave to school unexcited for your meeting with Tengen. Just as you finish walking down the steps out of school, you hear an annoying voice. “hey, kitten!” calls tengen. “uzui. i am above being a furry. stop calling me that.” you say, deadpanning, but walking with him to his house nonetheless. tone betraying the clear blush in your cheeks. "oh, but you're blushing! why should I stop?" He said.
"You're beginning to sound like Doma."
"That might be because we're on the same soccer team."
"Do I care?" You shoot, waiting for a response. Instead of getting one, the tall boy bends down in front of you, placing a hand on your cheek. “you should start caring, kitten, since i’m going to be the one who steals your first kiss~”
“fuck off, uzui!” you say, not fully meaning your words.
“i have a feeling you don’t really want me to, am i right?” you stand at a loss for words, mouth agape slightly, as you reach his house. when you get to the entrance, he pins you up against the wall. “i- erm…” you sputter as tengen places a finger on your lips, silencing you. “be quiet kitten, let’s give those lips of yours something better to do, rather than spewing lies you yourself don’t even believe…”
“tengen… i…”
“shhh… be quiet, babygirl, just focus on me…” he says as he leans in to kiss you. your lips connect, and you feel a spark ignite inside you. his musky scent, like forests and old paper, infiltrates your senses. it makes you crave for more contact. his lips feel so plush and warm against yours, his tongue dancing with yours once he slides it in your mouth. he tastes like heaven, like honey drizzled over a crisp apple. the kiss is perfect and welcomed as you feel his hands go to rest on your hips and it just feels so nice and good and right. your mouths disconnect, tongues untying, as you look into each other’s eyes with love. “so… you seemed to enjoy it~” tengen says, slightly breathless. you look away, flustered. when you look back up, he speaks again. “y/n… i’ve seen the way you look at me… will you go out with me?”
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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years ago
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fic rec friday 6
welcome the the sixth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.
1. Chapped Lips by Creatortan
Lance's lips were a distraction, sometimes. Keith just couldn't keep his eyes off of them.
i read this one and forget to bookmark it and it haunted my mind for WEEKS as i desperately tried to find it again. i went bonkers bc i wanted to reread it so bad, bc it is EXCELLENT. its fun and gay and the team as family dynamics are AMAZING, no team bashing here!! and as usual the pining was chefs kiss.
2. Mine by Anonymous [EXPLICIT, ABO]
How do Lance and Keith react when the other is kidnapped?
Keith goes feral. Lance becomes deadly.
yeah, yeah, i know. another omegaverse. absolutely feel free to avoid this one if it’s not ur thing, i know it’s not for everyone, but it was one of my first pieces of bamf unhinged lance and i refuse to be ashamed of liking it lmao. also i think it’s fair to say that this fic inspired my unhinged batshit lance fic, at least a little. give it a try if ur like me an abo is a guilty pleasure lmao
3. the way i love you by @taylortot
quiet moments in which keith and lance fall in love. and kiss a lot. post s7.
words cannot explain how much this series means to me. genuinely a series that is so poetically soft and loving that it makes tears well in your eyes. i started reading this series right when i turned 16, and idk it truly made something crack in fizzle in my brain, it made me realise how careful and choosing love is. i have read this series more times than i can count, definitely one of the top ten, and there are lines from this fic that i repeat to myself when i am looking for hope. i know it hasn’t been touched since 2020 but i will be watching it carefully and hoping for years to come. (my favourite, in the series, although it was hard to choose, is i want to kiss you there)
4. Read Label: Lance McClain’s Boyfriend by @bleusarcelle
“You know I’m not ashamed, right?” Lance meets his gaze sheepishly. “Like, I’m not ashamed of you, of us. Far from it, babe, I swear –”
“Lance,” Keith cuts in kindly, smiling warmly at the teen in his arms. “Believe me, I know but I do want to tell the world what you mean to me. I wanna start with our team, our family.”
“You should come with a warning,” Lance whispers, stroking Keith’s chin fondly as he drops his voice. “Caution: words that leave these lips may cause falling deeper in love. Thank you for shopping at Mullets4sales.com.”
Keith throws his head back as he shakes with laughter. Lance grins proudly at sound before he props himself on the bed and drops unceremoniously on top of his giggling boyfriend’s chest.
“But yeah, yes; let’s tell them after dinner.”
[Or the one where the team is on their way back home and stop on a planet where a pissy prince drugs Keith with a love potion and Lance has to endure watching his secret boyfriend being lovestruck on someone else that isn't him.]
bleusarcelle always has and always will be one of the core founders of this fandom fr. trust me when i tell u their work was THE work. i remember greedily reading every fic of theirs several time, and i still read several of them regularly. but i will always be a sucker for the secret relationship trope. and this one managed to have that trope with none of the team bashing or miscommunication garbage so it’s a banger from the get-go fr
5. When Moonlight Touches Us by @pmwrites-blog1
Branches scratched his cheeks as he ran through the woods. Out of breath and covered in mud, Lance eventually crawled back under the fence onto the school grounds. He stopped at the large fountain in the plaza, leaning heavily on it. He splashed his face to wake himself up.
It didn’t work. Keith was real.
-
Based on 214b's Gargoyle AU
THIS IS MY FAVOURITE VOLTRON FIC OF ALL TIME. i dont know why. i have no idea why ive latched onto this fic so specifcally, what about this fic just makes me want to reread it again and again, but if i could print this aand bind it and keep a hardcopy with me every day of my life i would. im obsessed with it. beauty and the beast who?? like this fic is everything to me. i cannot recommend it enough. im fully convinced this fic did something fundamental to my brain. nothing i write will ever be so dear to me as this fic and that’s literally okay. the stars aligned to make this fic possible. is it the fact that i know there’s pretzellus art for it and so the whole story was cemented into my brain? possibly. i truly do not know. but i am fully obsessed with this story and likely will be for infinity
that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!  
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morelikeravenbore · 3 months ago
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A comprehensive guide on how to turn the good guys bad.
Sebastian x f!oc, seventh year, post-canon/canon-divergent, idiots in love, mutual pining, eventual romance, suppressed powers, slytherin x ravenclaw pairing, no game-play retelling. [rated mature, no smut.]
[read on ao3, read on wattpad]
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🦋 C h a p t e r o n e [2.4k words]
If Aurélie Collins had to choose one word to best describe herself, she supposed it would be, to put it as delicately as she could: "completely and utterly overwhelmed." Granted, that was four words, not one, but as she trudged down yet another unfamiliar corridor, she was simply relieved she could string together a coherent sentence at all; after the last few months of hell she'd endured, Aurélie wasn't her usual eloquent self, to say the least.
She hadn't always been this way: overwhelmed, that is. In fact, if asked only a few months ago to describe herself, she would've said she was dutiful, quick-witted, and, if not brave, then definitely unafraid of facing challenges head-on. She'd been a confident girl once: she got good grades, always did as she was asked and never stepped a toe out of line. Everyone — from her parents and teachers to her friends and peers — knew that Aurélie Collins would go on to achieve whatever she set her mind to.
Now, though? Well, nowadays she was too overwhelmed, too exhausted, too beset by grief to set her mind on much of anything.
— And this new school of hers certainly wasn't doing anything to improve her situation.
Bloody Hogwarts.
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Of all places she'd ever imagined herself living, the freezing cold Scottish Highlands was absolutely not one of them. But, then again, she wouldn't have believed she'd be an orphan at seventeen either, yet here she was.
Hogwarts was famous, of course. Heralded as the pinnacle of magical education and arguably the top school in the wizarding world, most witches and wizards were honoured to attend such a prestigious establishment. But Aurélie was of the opinion that every bloody thing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was confusing, unnecessary, or just downright nonsensical. From the ever-changing floorplan to the myriad of talking portraits (all of whom gave her wildly conflicting directions depending on which ones she asked), nothing about Hogwarts made any sense.
She was almost in tears by the time she reached another dead end. It was simply impossible to find one's way around a school like this; there were too many floors to navigate, too many disused classrooms and far too many staircases that led to nowhere. Not to mention, beyond its confusing floorplan and unbearably draughty rooms, the ancient hulking castle was rather ugly — by Aurélie's standards at least; the monolithic Gothic castle was so far removed from the elegance and charm of Beauxbatons that it seemed almost cruel that she should be forced to endure it at all. She could almost hear her best friend Céleste's reaction if she were with her now: 'Ugh, it's so awfully medieval. Stone Gargoyles? And all those uncouth English boys? I don't know which I find more barbaric!'
She almost smiled at the thought. But only almost — for thinking of her best friend only made her sad.
Shaking herself mentally, she shifted the weight of her books from one arm to the other and cast a despairing glance over her gloomy surroundings. She did not like thinking about her old life, least of all while she was lost in a labyrinth of spooky corridors and dingy classrooms on her very first day of school. 
'Which Merlin-forsaken floor is this, anyway?' she muttered to herself in French as a group of first years rounded the corner, giggling obnoxiously. She knew them as Slytherin's not by the green and silver of their robes, but by the way they skittered around her, unwilling to help though she was clearly in need.
Notoriously unfriendly was how her father had described the snakes. Unlike her maman, a Beauxbatons alumna — and later a professor of music — Aurélie's papa had attended Hogwarts in his youth, though he'd been a Hufflepuff: a badger, not a snake.
He'd have helped anyone in need — even a Slytherin.
Her heart gave an awful, sickening lurch at the thought of him. Oh, her wonderful papa: patient and good-humoured and endlessly curious and —
Dead. He's dead, Aurélie. Stop thinking about him.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she trudged on determinedly, taking what felt like the hundredth set of stairs she'd already descended that morning while shame roiled in her stomach; she wasn't used to failing — not at tests, not at taking care of herself, and certainly not at something as simple as getting to class on time. Even the first years knew where they were going, for crying out loud, and they'd been here for just as short a time as she had!
When at last she found herself facing yet another dead end, she finally conceded defeat. Trying very hard not to cry, she adjusted her unflattering black robes (oh, to be dressed in fine blue silk again) and began to seriously consider how much trouble she'd be in if she just went back to bed. Or, more tempting still, how badly she'd be punished if she fled back to France and never returned to Hogwarts again, graduation be damned.
Because what did her education matter when her future was so unsure? What did anything matter when everything she knew had been taken from her?
But no, she couldn't leave Hogwarts; it was the safest place for her since her parents had died, and Professor Weasley, the Deputy Headmistress, had evoked the power of Merlin himself to secure her a place here at such short notice; apparently, it had not been an easy feat convincing Headmaster Black to take on a student with her reputation.
Aurélie sighed and squeezed her eyes closed. 'It's just for one year,' she muttered under her breath, repeating the phrase that had become her mantra. 'Just one year, that's all.'
'Unless you're trying to break into the Slytherin common room,' said an unexpected voice behind her, 'I'm going to assume you're lost.'
Aurélie whirled around so fast she whipped herself in the face with her long auburn braid. She hadn't always been a jumpy sort of person, but losing both parents at the same time had a way of making one rather fearful of unexpected voices in unfamiliar corridors.
The boy who stood before her had his wand held up to her chest; its tip glowed brightly red in front of his face, casting an ominous-looking hue over pale skin and flaxen hair. Almost immediately, Aurélie saw visions of dark shadows and searing red pain, scraps and flashes of fear, the sound of someone crying —
Not again.
For one dreadful, heart-stopping moment, she thought he meant to curse her —
Her palms tingled; a telltale sign that the forbidden magic in her blood was very much alive despite her efforts to suppress it — and very much wanted to be used.
Not again, please.
She stumbled backwards, but the boy made no move to attack. Instead, he simply stared at her. — No, not at her but through her. It was then that she noticed his eyes; milky white and translucent, gleaming like pearlescent orbs in his angular face.
He was blind.
'S-sorry,' Aurélie said a little breathlessly. 'I'm trying to find Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I'm afraid I...' She swallowed hard. 'I have no idea where I am.'
The boy chuckled, and though the sound was pleasant enough, it was undoubtedly more incredulous than amused. 'Oh my, you are lost, aren't you?'
Pinned to the breast pocket of his immaculate robes was a small badge engraved with the words Head Boy; even bathed under the red glow of his wand light, she could clearly make out the tiny snake etched onto its gleaming surface. Another Slytherin.
She'd known very little about the four Hogwarts houses before embarking on her unexpected stint at the school, but when the Sorting Hat had asked her if she'd had a preference, all she could think was that she didn't want to be part of a house whose emblem was a snake.
When Aurélie did not reply, he heaved an impatient sigh.
'You're the new Ravenclaw,' he said matter-of-factly. 'I must say, I didn't expect to find you all the way down here.'
The boy had a distinctly aristocratic air about him: haughty and vaguely displeased as all aristocratic types were loath to be, with fine, blonde hair slicked back from his face, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline that screamed of fine magical breeding. Aurélie wondered vaguely which noble family he was from, for she certainly knew a wealthy pureblood when she saw one; half of Beauxbatons was full of old ennobled wizarding families.
As she opened her mouth to ask him how he knew who she was, he cut her off —
'I recognise your accent,' he explained as if he'd read her thoughts. 'There aren't any other French students at Hogwarts.' His sharp, clipped voice was a stark contrast to his delicate features, and yet, there was something strangely unsettling about it that stirred something inside her. Something familiar. Something... unpleasant.
'Half French,' she corrected him, pushing the thought away. 'My father was English, mother was French. But — er, yes, I suppose I do sound different to everyone else.'
Having been bilingual all her life, Aurélie spoke both English and French fluently — but apparently, her French accent wasn't as undetectable as she'd hoped. She smoothed her clammy hands down the front of her awfully drab robes, acutely aware of how the boy's unseeing eyes seemed to pierce her with surprising intensity.
'Yes, well,' he drawled in a tone that suggested that he didn't particularly care about the finer details of her heritage. 'You're absolutely nowhere near the Defence floor. In fact, you're almost in the dungeons. Frankly, I'm baffled you managed to make it here from the Great Hall all by yourself. Why weren't you following your classmates?'
'Oh. I wasn't in the Great Hall. I came straight from my common room.'
Not entirely trusting that anything she ate would stay down for long, she'd opted to skip breakfast in the hall with the other students that morning and head straight to class instead. Though the few Ravenclaw's she'd met so far had seemed friendly enough, their interest in the new foreign transfer student made her uncomfortable. One particularly rambunctuous Ravenclaw boy whose name she couldn't recall had ogled her like she was an exotic beast and told her that Hogwarts never got transfer students — not ever.
'If I'd been made to be sorted in front of the entire school as a seventh year,' he had said, 'I would have died of humiliation.'
Inwardly, Aurélie had agreed with him, for she certainly didn't count the Sorting Ceremony as one of her favourite life experiences. Outwardly though, she'd only smiled politely and told him it hadn't been so bad before excusing herself to a quiet corner of the common room to sit alone.
She had no intention of making friends during her single year at Hogwarts. Given that she planned to head straight back to France the moment she graduated, the thought of making friends only to have to say goodbye to them was an ordeal she wasn't sure she could endure. But beyond that, she feared that should anyone find out the truth about why she'd transferred in the first place, well... It was better to be invisible than a source of gossip and speculation.
As a seventeen-year-old witch who hadn't achieved anything particularly extraordinary, Aurélie didn't think herself interesting by any stretch. But unfortunately, having ones family murdered by dark wizards certainly was — and that was not something she wanted to be known for.
'So you're telling me,' the boy said with an impatient huff, 'that you managed to get yourself from the Ravenclaw common room, one of the highest points in the castle, to the very lowest depths of the dungeons, and didn't at any point stop to think that perhaps you were headed in the wrong direction?' His translucent pupils gleamed red under the glow of his wand light. 'Nor did you think it prudent to eat something before you start studying for your N.E.W.T.s, the most important and difficult exam in a witch's educational career?' He shook his head in exasperation. 'And here I was thinking Ravenclaw's were supposed to be intelligent.'
Aurélie didn't quite know how to react to this outburst, but rather thought she'd been right to not want to be in the snake house. When she made no reply, the boy heaved another heavy sigh, clearly annoyed.
'Very well,' he sniffed. 'As Head Boy, I suppose it is my duty to help you, even though you ought to be old enough by now to look after yourself. Come along, then.'
With a final sneer, the boy turned on his heel and strode purposefully down the empty corridor. Despite her chagrin, Aurélie couldn't help but marvel at the way his wand seemed to act as a proxy for his sight; pulsing like a heartbeat, it lead him effortlessly through the maze of corridors that even she with her perfect vision couldn't seem to navigate. She hurried after him, silently chastising herself for being so useless that she had to be led to class by a blind boy.
'Ominis Gaunt, by the way,' he said once she'd caught up to him; he was rather a fast walker for someone who couldn't see where they were going.
'Oh, er — hello, I'm —'
'Aurélie Collins,' he cut in, pronouncing her first name the correct French way. 'Yes, I know who you are. Now, do pay attention, won't you? Defence Against the Dark Arts is on the third floor, not in the dungeons. Even I can tell this isn't the third floor, and I'm blind.'
Aurélie grimaced. Perhaps the Sorting Hat had made a mistake putting her into a house whose members were valued for being clever.
'So... you're Head Boy?' she asked timidly.
'That is what I said, isn't it?' came his sharp reply. 'And I'll have you know that I've quite enough to be getting on with today without needing to rescue stray Ravenclaws from the dungeons.'
'I didn't need rescuing,' she muttered under her breath, but Ominis only ignored her, and after a very tense silence and several staircases later, they came to a stop outside the correct classroom on the third floor.
'Do try not to get yourself so embarrassingly lost again, won't you?' he said tersely. 'I don't have time to babysit seventh years, I've enough first year drama to deal with as it is.'
And with that, he was away again, muttering darkly about Ravenclaw's and incompetence as he went, leaving Aurélie standing dumbfounded in his wake.
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laurelsofhighever · 12 days ago
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1, 4-7, 19 for your Rook! (Sorry for so many, I too want to know everything lol)
Questions here
This isn't too many at all! Considering I started out getting such Cousland vibes from my Rook, my actual Rook has become so much her own character and I love her.
Meet Wren "Thorn" Tabris
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1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from? Perhaps obviously from her name, she grew up in the Denerim alienage, and was 11 when the Fifth Blight struck the city. The heroism of the Grey Wardens inspired her to join up, and it seemed like a way to get out of the alienage with more dignity than her older cousin, who had to escape after killing an arl's son. The Wardens in Amaranthine took her on as a recruit and trained her up properly before putting her through the Joining, after which she was transferred to serve with the northern Wardens, and she hasn't seen the South in at least a decade.
4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found? Wren likes the open sky, even if the one in the Fade doesn't really count. Even without enduring journeys into the Deep Roads, she misses the sunsets in Ferelden, because the light hits differently there, and it lingers. If the Lighthouse had an observatory, she'd be camped there hoping for a breeze to drift in through the open windows, enjoying the feeling of openness above her.
5: What emotion did they usually pick? She's usually stoic and businesslike, so she picks the "red" options, but she's astute enough to go for other things if she's in a situation where her companions need something softer. Strongarm options are usually reserved for Solas.
The only times she chooses to be more open and emotional is when she confides in Lucanis, because no one else can see.
6: What companion are you platonically close with? She gets on with everyone - it's a hard life in the Wardens if you can't find common ground with those around you - but of everyone at the Lighthouse, her camraderie with Davrin is the strongest. They share a lot of experiences and were trained in a way that lets them work together, so she knows he has her back, especially since he's also not one to blindly follow orders. She also meshes well with Taash's no-nonsense approach to problems, and would be a lot closer with Neve if not for the awkward distance caused by the events in Minrathous. Of them all, the one she's least close to is probably Bellara, but that's more from a difference in communication style rather than because Wren doesn't like her.
7: Romantically close with? She fell hard for Lucanis. She admired his skill and confidence when they first met, but getting to know the caring side of him after he bought gifts for everyone in the market, and the fear he had of losing control of Spite and accidentally hurting someone, and seeing all his other quirks, it wasn't long before she was pining after him, and hoping he might also feel the same way even if he held himself aloof. She tried not to get her hopes up, at first, because there seemed to be so much easy flirting between him and Neve, but with so much else going on his company felt too much lik a balm to stay away, even with the threat of Spite looming between them - there was something comforting in knowing he was there because of a contract rather than because he had to like her.
19: How do you think they'll meet their end? Clearing out the last of the fading blight will take some years, but after that? She's not naturally ruthless enough to become a Crow herself, but a comfortable retirement seems like it would be a nice change of pace, complete with sunsets and every luxury Lucanis can shower on her. If she doesn't get killed fighting darkspawn, the Calling will likely be cured by the time it would have come for her, and it'll eventually be old age that gets her instead.
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wifiwuxians · 1 year ago
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pls you're one of the very few people who make life as an yi city squad fan bearable. i had to filter the whole xiao xingchen tag because there is almost nothing but xuexiao. that ship comes with the worst characterization of xxc,sl & aq that i ever had to read with my own eyes. i don't care if i'm the minority,it's such a squick to me too. even mxtx was like "xuexiao? a-qing and xxc are closer to each other and yet they aren't a ship. why would you ship xuexiao?". so you're not weird for not liking it. (and i'm glad i can enjoy some awesome yi city art without having to endure endless braindead takes like "song lan is secretly lan qiren and he forces xxc to repress his true nature,xxc was happier with xue yang!!")
Oh noooo akrdnmxnxmdnaotndks I never go into any of the tags for the characters for this reason too, things I have filtered just slip through the cracks constantly, and I'm not much of a fic reader as it is but I think this would genuinely ruin my day. the hatred some shippers have for sl and aq is absolutely ridiculous and i cannot endorse it. if it makes you feel better, i think just about every ship has a lot of people writing things for it that just don't make sense or are flat out bastardizations, it's just probably a lot more obvious when it's a ship that is, um, well, rocky. to my knowledge all my moots and pals who ship it are huge song lan and aq lovers/enjoyers too and like they'd have to be, right, to have even found me LMAO JDJDJSJ and they are also like fully aware that it wouldn't work out canon wise (so theyre not saying things like WTF THEY DESERVED EACH OTHER STUPID MXTX) AND are totally open to my takes and my work, so i am very grateful every day to have met understanding people who respect my boundaries (of course i also have many friends who are squicked out too i'm just saying coexistence is possible and don't let anyone tell you otherwise) 💖
tho you genuinely lose me and my support if you write things like that, where you don't understand the characters and make them embittered obstacles to your ship and try to twist them into monstrosities simply to justify your tastes. like no. you're wrong. you don't know what you're saying. He Would Not Fucking Say That etc. and also to whoever wrote that take, i am speaking to you directly: xxc still pined over sl all those years so no, he wasn't happier. he was just happy. also we literally don't know what their lives were like together, we just know they were close enough that sl allowed xxc to touch him without issue despite the fact they can't have known each other for more than a year or two. Do Better.
as much as i may not be a fan of sxx, though, i also wanna say i really do admire people who are writing like 500-chapter fixit type things just to make them work out, and i did once read a fic of them i liked! it was sweet. it's just the total exclusion and hatred of sl that i can't even make an effort for (among other things but again im not here to make anyone feel bad, like i have NO ROOM to talk with some of the shit i make), like i know i won't enjoy it sksk we all have tastes
all in all I'm really happy you enjoy my work!!! It means a lot for me to hear and I'm honored to be one of the few, because if there's one thing I get a kick out of more than anything else, it's being unique LOL
AND JUST TO CONCLUDE: even if a friend of yours dislikes a ship you like so much that they request you not talk to them about it, it doesn't mean you can't be friends! Close friends even! BEST friends perhaps! Everyone is different, that's the beauty of it etc etc of course it's great to share the joy but don't let things like that limit you 😊😊😊💖
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riewritten · 2 years ago
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CHAPTER 5. THE UNDERGROUND COMMUNE
EDGE OF THE PRECIPICE — DIRECTORY
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ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N | hurt/comfort, angst, mystery, childhood friends, fake marriage, modern au, parallel universe, reincarnation, mentions of canon, pining commander erwin smith, trauma, manipulation, referenced child abuse, violence, psychological torture
SUMMARY: Aggressive land grabbing from the royal government ensue from one countryside to the other, all allegedly for the prophecy: a tree, vast source of power that'd bring great abundance and prosperity to mankind, is standing among their lands. As the said prophecy holds the answer to the tragic childhood you have no memories of, the guerilla's commander pulls out something he prepared for years to help. AO3 | FANFICTION
WORDS: 5.5k | Want to get tagged for the succeeding chapters? Sign up here.
TO COMPENSATE FOR MY SUBSTANDARD NARRATION OF ACTION SCENES, please listen to AOT playlist while reading this chapter (please omfg)
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They say dreams appear for a reason, mayhaps a message delivered by the deepest of consciousness.
Or maybe, maybe just a gut feeling. A terrible, terrible gut feeling.
When you opened your eyes again, it was the gentle smell of Erwin's sheets. Unaware of what time it is, your eyes averted to where he is — office table meters away, holding a pen, and you don't know how long he's been disregarding the pile of documents to watch you sleep.
"Sorry, I got your bed." You groggily sat and rubbed your eyes. "What time is it?"
"Past midnight. And you've always been getting my bed, for the record."
"It smells good, I’m really sorry," you groaned, guilty that you disturbed his supposed rest. "You can lie down now."
And yet, you can't bring yourself to stand up and walk, and instead, settled at the edge of the bed to hug your knees. You feel horrid and sick in the stomach.
Erwin followed suit but he didn't lie down. Instead, he sat beside you to examine your demeanor, a bit confused. "You look like the one who got the bed taken over and wasn't able to sleep."
“It was a bad sleep.”
Strangely, the dream wasn't in any way horrid. It was about the earlier times —  back when you’re still yet to adjust to what life beyond Mitras could offer. Spending most of your time being a bystander was terrible as everyone already had their circles upon your arrival. It's not that you were a loner; you tried. You tried because only if the people in Mitras did not spoil you with intimacy, you'd be able to endure living a life without companions.
Back then, just when you were about to cry, Petra sat beside you and offered a bag of carrots.
You look up at her, perplexed, as she remained shy. She knew how random it was; how weird for a classmate you hadn’t even conversed with yet to offer you that much.
“I-I was wondering if you’d like some. The harvest in my province soared so well and my family thought it’d be a good idea to share some with my classmates.” She fidgeted, a bit too nervous if you’d accept it or not. “With the price of vegetables hiking up in the capital, I do think it really would help, y-you know…?”
You looked around the room, then. Most of your classmates had the same bag. Some were smiling, some were chuckling at the strange encounter, some were talking about how rare it was to encounter a province girl as they all grew up in the capital, and the rest were talking about the dishes they plan to cook with all those carrots.
Almost all of them find Petra weirdly amusing, but endearing nonetheless. You were no exception. It explains why you tailed her after that encounter, just like how you did to Erwin back then. And oh, she let you — happily so — as she’s having quite a hard time finding her clique too. Both of you came from measly provinces, who would understand the alienation of the capital better than both of you? Petra, despite having the same willingness to be with you the way people in Mitras — especially Erwin — did, had the gentleness you hadn’t experienced yet. Despite the similarity they possess, Erwin doesn’t have the softness she has. Petra doesn’t exude the feeling of authority that makes you quite scared to counter. It was like they were coexisting in a circle of yin and yang. One of them being taken away from you would rattle the balance and ruin your core.
You wonder what was so bad with a dream reiterating that fact.
“Bad sleep,” he mused, “did it involve fires?”
“No, it was a good dream.”
But then finally, the feeling made sense in you.
Your breath hitched and turned to him in alarm, “Something bad is going to happen.”
A line almost everyone dismisses; everyone except Erwin, for some strange reason.
Maybe he knows you always end up right.
He observed your body language first to see if assistance to calm down is needed, but you’re quite too agitated in getting your point across. “Something bad is going to happen! Where is—”
"A grave news came, Commander!" The subordinate banged the door open which quickly plastered him with shame under the assumption that he interrupted a supposedly intimate moment. However, “The people stationed in Stohess for this week are—”
Blood quickly drained in you. “What happened?” 
“The armed forces released a statement about killing a whole unit of rebels in an armed encounter. But the units reported otherwise moments before the crackdown! If there really was an encounter, then—then they’d call on us for backup!” the man cracked in tears. “They were caught alive defenseless and tortured before killed!”
“What did the statement say?”
“There were censored photographs of a dead body, which we recognized from—” and with that, the man finally broke down.
“From whom! Speak properly!” You shouted, the utter panic overruling any semblance of sympathy.
“It was Petra. They—they publicized the cadaver of Petra.”
Your consciousness crumbled, depriving you of hearing anything, not even the Commander’s additional inquiries about the tragedy, not even when your feet moved on their own in barging out of the room. When you came down to the meeting hall, everyone was crying, crying for the most endearingly amusing comrade who gave no one exception with her kindness.
“Show me the photograph released by the military.”
Moblit shook his head and folded the laptop down, “It won’t be a good idea. Besides, it’s censor—”
You cut him off harshly but shoving the laptop open, and there it goes. It was censored, yes, but the hues of orange cannot be mistaken. 
Alongside the blood all over was her twisted neck.
The poor girl was indeed tortured. 
Not only that, her photograph was posted to send a message. Petra was a college student on the surface, after all, and known for her critical stances against the prophecy. They were exposing a college student's body — a body born by the measly farm they aim to conquer — to deliver a message: trying to go against the likes of the Reiss would end you up in the same fate.
“Anna, stop—”
“Don’t call me Anna,” you spat weakly. The fact that it was given by the person who instigated the said prophecy reeked your very core. Moblit was confused, but you followed up with a question, “Where’s the body?”
“As per the statement, they will deliver her remains to the bereaved family in Orvud. It’s not that hard to deduce that they’ll use her as collateral to finally take ownership of that farm.”
“They wouldn’t have the time to chase over a measly farm if we take over one of their greatest assets.”
“What do you mean by that, Commander?”
“They thought displaying Petra’s body in public would be for their benefit as she was a high-profile advocate on the surface.” Erwin pointed out before turning to everyone. “Moblit, have the guerilla’s public information office release a statement of condemnation and urge the sympathizers to join us. Miche, have our legal forces at the university, precisely Petra’s friends, do the same. Our goal is to have everyone join the rebellion. If we manage to gather that much, then we could finally commence The Underground Commune.”
“Commune? Do you mean—”
“Yes, the whole Underground District will be filled with our forces, up to a point where they have to halt the land-taking operations over the country. They can’t afford to lose the Underground, not when lots of nobility eye this place. No matter how abandoned it seems, this place holds the key to the development of Eldia.” He shot you a short look before giving the final command. “The state forces want us to fear them by disrespecting Petra’s remains and we know better than to prove them right. Petra did not deserve to die, none of our late comrades did, and publicizing her murder was their greatest mistake. Carry that as you fight later on.” Miche flashed the map for Erwin to instruct the base plan while you and the others assemble your guns and green cloaks.
The Eldian Guerillas had wings in its cloak — you caressed yours one last time, as from hereon your other half’s wings are engraved on it. It will never be the same again, but unlike Furlan’s, you’ve now accepted that fact — resolutely so.
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ERWIN WAS RIGHT. The military police expected retaliation, but they thought the fear would overrule especially among the legal forces.
The sympathizers assembled a mobilization without arms at hand, nothing but placards calling for their justice. The military police let them be; mobilizations are not intimidating for them after all, not when they begin the program with just around twenty people at most. However, when piles of people came until they covered the whole road, the military police called for backups. It was too late, though, because when a citizen chanted;
“Petra’s remains were your greatest mistake!”
Then the other side added, “They were seeds that you planted,”
“Whom shall sprout countless Eldians who’d dedicate their hearts to continue what they started!”
“Dedicate your hearts!”
“Dedicate your hearts!”
Soon after, spikes of metal strings were heard. People with green cloaks came flying in the air and landed on different roofs. The military police regretted their leniency.
The citizens looked up, some of which are in awe, and shouts of cheer loudened.
“Disrespecting Petra’s remains was your greatest mistake!”
“They were seeds that you planted,”
“Whom shall sprout countless Eldians who’d dedicate their hearts to continue what they started!”
“Dedicate your hearts! Dedicate your hearts!”
A squad leader from the MP shouted in both anger and surprise as this is the first time guerillas appeared in the capital — this is the first time they’ll see the face of ruthless Commander that wreaked havoc in Orvud. “Our comrades were subdued by the 47th Interior Unit and their remains are being prepared for release. We will not back off with empty hands, Petra will be brought home by us! Soldiers, advance!”
“Finally unleashing your true colors now, huh? Hundreds of citizens will die if you pushed through this, you damned in the head Commander! So much for fighting for their so-called emancipation!”
But then, not long after that remark, citizens brought out something from their sleeves. The Military Police panicked and immediately readied to fire upon realizing that everyone was armed.
If one were to look from afar, it could be deemed how gun turns people into killing machines whose every shot diminishes humanity, with every hit shredding any semblance of emotion — dreams of going home and letting someone go home, paying the debt to his country and seeking the country to pay its debt, among many other reasons.
Instead of fear, a couple of citizens — most from the frontlines — sneered at the guns pointed at them. “The position of your guns says a lot about you, state lapdogs!” Isabel, the one at the center, shouted. She then dropped a command, “Guns up the sky!” The citizens followed suit and thus she added, “Fire!”
The military police finally realized what was up — the citizens were not, in any way, holding real guns. It was smoke grenades to deprive them of vision, to give the flying guerillas their needed leverage. Isabel’s command for citizens to chant deprived them of the ability to hear the metal strings and so within a minute, three units of military police were put down.
If one were to look from afar, it could be deemed how the death of an endearing comrade turns people into a bloody rage, how the lack of choice but to collectively retaliate diminishes the upper hand of those in power.
Eventually, the citizens did not chant just Petra’s name. They chanted for Gunther Schultz, for Eld Jinn, for Oluo Bozado, for Petra’s father, and among all the mentioned, your heart screamed at them screaming justice for Furlan Church.
“Furlan was confirmed to be killed due to the prophecy,” Erwin muttered to himself as both of you fled. “So my gamble to take you with me upon his death was the right call...”
“I don’t want to be called Anna anymore.”
“But that would keep your identity from the surface safe. Are you sure?”
“I know that’s what you’re trying to erase in this mission, Commander. To blur the distinction between civilians and guerillas would leverage our forces. To see the citizens comply with the plan right now shows how successful you are in it.”
“I’m not the one in success; the citizens brought it upon themselves. No one claims it but them. That’s the same reason why we must avoid bloodshed. None of our attacks must hurt the people below, and if there is someone to kill, it must be those who tormented Petra’s squad. Call for the—” Erwin was cut off when a series of gunshots were heard, and citizens’ chants were replaced by screams.
“They’re shooting the citizens!” Miche exclaimed. “They’re using them as pawns to distract us from attacking them!”
Erwin deduced the situation before speaking, “With a place this smokey, the military can easily claim we’re the ones behind the shooting,” Despite the horrifying realization, Erwin let out a grim smile — a deranged one, perhaps, one seething in anger. Then he dropped a command for everyone to hear. “Soldiers, kill every military police with guns at sight!”
“But Commander!” You shouted with heart drumming so loud at the thought of Isabel dying. “The citizens need help in evacuating!”
“No! We don’t have enough forces as it is. Continue charging at the enemy!”
“Erwin!”
“The MPs in the area are not too much right now and their desperation to shoot the unarmed is brought by their awareness that once the smoke subsides, all their units would be eliminated! They want to distract us! If we decrease our forces now and fail to eliminate them before the smoke's gone, then all of the people here would be doomed! Don’t go by their trap!”
“Commander, are you saying we let the citizens be the pawn?” Nanaba asked.
“No, the citizens here knew this could happen, and so their formation is arranged from those who are most willing to die to those who want to evacuate once the situation gets dire. Those who are to evacuate have trucks waiting for them at the back, all of which came from different farms. Now as we speak, people on the frontlines are helping the rest escape before bullet reaches them — they are all seizing their time left before the bullet reaches them.”
Isabel is willing to die.
Isabel very much knew she could die, and yet…
You pointed your gun below the silhouette of a soldier. Just when you were about to pull the trigger, something daunted you and your hands shook.
You're about to kill a military man — a being who most likely has a family waiting for him. But when he unhesitantly pulled his own trigger at the citizens, your shaking were motivated from anger.
"H-hah—"
Erwin called your name, "You don't have to kill them if you don't want to."
Isabel is willing to die.
"Hah, huh—" your breath ragged, shaking intensified, and the hah's soon became a scream as the statement repeated inside your mind: every bullet he shoots raises Isabel's chance of death. Isabel is willing to die. Isabel very much knew she could die. Isabel, Isabel, Isabel, Isabel.
The fury awakened something in you, it was the voice you fear the most:
FLOWER HANGING AT THE EDGE OF THE PRECIPICE, WITH AN UNDESERVING FATE SUBJECTED BY THE WORLD,
YOU HAVE TO UNLEASH THE LACK OF MERCY INSIDE YOU, TOO. THAT'S THE ONLY WAY YOU'D BE ABLE TO LIVE.
YOU HAVE TO UNLEASH THE LACK OF MERCY INSIDE YOU, TOO.
UNLEASH IT.
UNLEASH IT.
But now you listened as it talked, and for the first time in your life, you were not scared to do so.
You propelled a scream then pulled the trigger just before he could. It pierced his head. You pulled it again to ensure his death, crying. You flashed your gear towards another position to do more, to kill more.
You shouted alongside the bangs of your gun, all in tormenting urgency to save your friend.
Not long after, the shooting ended; the flares subsided. It's done, and the daunting casualties were flashed to everyone.
.Bloodshed. It was utter bloodshed.
"Clear! The next MP units are running 5 kilometers away from here!" A squad leader three roofs away from you reported from her telescope.
"Twenty casualties from the citizens! Ten injured, ten dead! Area all clear, the trucks are on the way to the Underground!" A squad leader down below had reported from the transceiver. 
"State of the military forces below, report," Miche said.
"All clear. None injured, all dead."
The Commander pressed the transceiver, "The Stohess operation is successful. All except the Command Unit and Squad Miche, discharge!"
"Yes, Sir!" Everyone said in unison.
The Squad Miche is just behind so no one uses the transceiver anymore. "The new squad unit is on standby at Stohess funeral home. The truck to bring them home is on alert, too."
"We would be able to bring them home," Erwin concurred. 
"Petra will be brought home."
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Upon reaching the place, it came to you that the new squad unit in question is led by someone close to your heart.
"Levi!" With a blurry mind, you quickly ran towards him. Levi just finished tying two MP soldiers up; he turned in surprise upon hearing your voice.
He's alive. Levi's alive.
You jumped at him with a hug.
Levi's not the type to return that under normal circumstances. So now, he did it so tightly with a weak sigh of relief.
"Isabel is in the frontline," you wept, muffled in his cravat. "Why did you let her? What the hell is she thinking?"
"I made sure she was alive before flying here." He withdrew from the hug, and instead leveled his face the same as yours, "And she has the same question: why didn't she tell us she was Anna? Why didn't she tell us she joined the rebels?" And to end, he gave a hard flick on your forehead, "What the hell are you thinking?"
You averted your eyes away in guilt, but Levi knew better; he forced you to look at him while glaring.
"I'm sorry."
He called your name tiredly this time, contrary to the stern tone prior. "I'm not asking for apologies."
"I'm sorry Furlan died because of me. Whatever the confrontation, I was part of the reason why he died, because I used to be Anna, and they were finding me for the prophecy."
"No," he quickly interrupted. "It’s not your—"
"Because you're not her, I told you. You're the name you go by right now." Erwin cut in. "Whatever they planned on that dead child was out of your control, therefore not your fault. Also, the caught soldiers are saying something right now. Go back to the present."
"The rats keep on saying that Petra betrayed the movement. They took it back after I rearranged their faces." Levi deadpanned.
You walked to them as Miche pointed a gun at their heads, "They were sticking their noses too much! They were trying to seize information even lowly soldiers don't have the privilege of knowing!"
"Then Levi clasped on his collar, a pin of Interior Military Police clasped on it. "Then tell us. You're not a lowly soldier yourself. Tell us what you know."
"I'll talk, I'll talk!" In utter fear of what Levi could further ruin in his shape, he shakily responded, "The prophecy of Eldia's prosperity is never a bluff—"
Levi cut them off with a punch, "Seems like you still want more, huh? Might as well tell me how much of your teeth you want to lose."
"Levi, let him speak."
"I'm not here to mess around some fucking prophecy, Erwin. I did not involve myself, let alone Isabel, in this type of shit."
"But I'm telling the truth! Saying this to you will get my head opened by Commander Kenny!"
Levi stopped in his tracks upon hearing the name of his uncle. 
Sensing it, the soldier continued, "There was a world that used to be ruled by the royal family and that world was filled with giant monsters. Those monsters came from a tree, a tree blessed to the royal family. The giant monsters were used to kill every being that's not from the Eldian race—"
"You're speaking shit that's already been said by the storybooks," Levi hissed. "Don't waste our time."
"If the tree was from another world, what relevance does it have to today's prophecy? Are you telling me the tree is nothing but a conspiracy?"
"No, that's why let me finish!" The soldier countered. "Due to the sins Eldians incurred from that world, we weren't supposed to exist anymore. But someone saved us, someone had our existence persist, and that's why we're here! The goal of the prophecy is to relieve the savior and utilize their power for the prosperity of the entire humankind in this world!"
"And how do you know if it's true?"
"The royal family has visions of it."
"And you believed them?"
"Nations do! Marley believes them, Hizuru believes them, everyone does! How can a measly soldier like me decide what to believe with what's not when they do?"
Levi then grabbed a paper from his pocket and shoved it, "Then what does the saying in Furlan's cadaver mean? Alas, your men had done a fruitful job. The first horseman of the apocalypse has come in the form of a devil from the tree. How did Furlan become a signifier of war?" This time, Levi's face had changed. It was desperate, frustrated, seething in pain. "Just why—why, out of all people, why did someone like him get caught up in this mess?"
The soldier's face changed. It was a fear much greater than Levi. His face changed; even at the expanse of his teeth nor his face, he would not speak. He shuddered, tears flowed down without a word, and his eyes were so wide you'd think they could fall out.
"You won't answer, huh?"
Everyone was caught off guard when the soldier started banging his head at the wall behind him until it cracked. Even when blood poured down he didn't stop.
Miche grabbed him away before the final blow, even Levi was too shocked to speak. It proved that he wasn't lying. There was something in the prophecy and the royal family would rather sacrifice the whole populace instead of revealing it."
"Our job here is done. Apply first aid on that soldier and bring him in the truck."
"First aid?" Levi grimaced at Erwin, "You're letting him live?"
He looked at the now unconscious police before adding, "He was a citizen before a soldier and the guerillas are not terrorists. We're tending to his wounds and taking him in as a prisoner of war. Besides, with all the information he's leaked, he really has no other fate but an open head." As the other soldiers followed, Erwin looked at you, "The remains are already acquired and resting at the truck. We'll be bringing Petra home. Don't make her wait too long."
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“Did you see this coming?”
“See what? The death of our comrades?”
“No. You know that Petra’s death would cause an uproar. It was all too fast and yet you were able to handle everything. And we succeeded. Did you see that coming?”
As the truck moved, a look of lament resonated on Erwin's face. He called your name weakly, "I became the Commander for a reason. This might be the worst encounter we had so far but certainly not a new thing within our ranks."
"Did Petra…" you gulped, "Did Petra really lead a tormenting life?"
"No, she said giving you the carrots was one of the happiest choices she made in her life." Levi mindlessly answered, not even turning at you. "After all, it was you who brought her to us."
"Petra didn't stop bugging me with her gratitude since I brought you here, too.”
And thus as if it was your long-awaited one, you wept hard. You didn't have the time to do so when you first got the news. You didn't have the time to do so when people were chanting for her justice. You couldn't even go to the other truck to look at it, even upon your arrival at the Underground district. 
When you came across the injured Isabel, your cries went harder. She cried with you alongside curses for the things you didn't say, but it didn't feel as heavy as earlier anymore. You might never be the same again but there are still people left.
There are still people left.
The population in the underground had tripled. Plenty of recalibration must be done and lots of newly built units to be trained. Due to Levi's uncanny prowess during the encounter and the fact that he was the one to put down half of the soldiers in Stohess, it was the right choice to make him a squad leader. In exchange, he bargained for Isabel as his second-in-command (for no apparent reason; it's just to ensure her welfare while recovering from the bullet wound).
"When the MPs started shooting at us without any reluctance, we realized there really was nothing to be done with our lands if we relied on them." A new kid named Armin from Levi's squad said.
"Besides, Petra was kind to us. It's just not fair." Eren concurred. He was reportedly a new advocate from the freshman level who, despite months of experience, had already been leading his entire college.
"Marco was a kind man. He didn't deserve to die the way he did earlier," another one chipped in.
"The bloody confrontation proved our narrowest target from here on — the Police Commander Kenny Ackerman, who was reported to be one of the founding instigators of the prophecy alongside Anna's father—" you grimaced at the mention of your former name, "and the royal family. As the line between civilians and rebels blurred, the policy of gaining aliases will not be needed anymore. Unless someone disagrees…?" Everyone shook their heads, hence Miche continued. "After the recalibration, units will be distributed to different provinces to further enlarge our bases. Does anyone have any questions before we adjourn the debriefing?"
A small blonde girl with long bangs hanging to her nose raised her hand, "H-how about the prophecy of the Reiss? Is it true?"
The people in the Command Unit — with Levi and Isabel included — exchanged glances. 
"We're not to rely on something based on hearsay. Unless we get concrete proof, the movement will deem it as conspiracy and bluff." Erwin answered.
"B-but—"
"If you don't have any questions concerning the new delegation of tasks, then let's adjourn the meeting for everyone to recuperate."
Without further ado, everyone rushed away from the hall tiredly. The small blonde girl followed suit, defeated. Just before you could ponder what she had to say, Erwin called you over to talk.
"Isabel reported something you should've said to me months ago, way before your training." He started, and thus you looked away in guilt. “They were able to find Anna not by the statement released by the guerillas but through Furlan himself." 
“That’s exactly why we have to investigate. This is not a black-and-white matter. If Furlan was with them, fully aware of that mission, how come he’s the only one who got killed?”
"Then what if it turned out not that complicated? You know better than spurring something without any basis.”
“But what if it isn’t baseless?” you took out the piece of paper you had gotten from Levi. “This is written in Furlan’s cadaver. No one understood it. No country goes by that language. But I did, Erwin. I did.”
There, Erwin’s grim was replaced with perplexity. “How?”
“This is how the voices inside me speak.”
What do you want to imply?”
“That I might be the devil they’re finding for. That Furlan died because of me. It spoke about the devil born by that tree! We saw that tree before, hadn’t we? Back in Mitras, what have you seen in that tree?"
"You remembered…?"
"Have you seen that I’m a monster, too? Is that why you were so horrified when we came across it back in childhood?”
“You are not a monster,” he scowled as if that was the main concern, “and no, I only saw what that tree could offer.”
“The conquest horseman inside me, what if it just altered my memory of killing Furlan as well? What if, all this time—”
“Stop.” This time, Erwin is no longer interested in unfolding further possibilities. You’re about to lose yourself again. “You must be aware that if the horseman entails conquest, the devil who killed Furlan might’ve gotten on you too and taken over your mind. If things would go like this then we must assume the royal family isn’t our only enemy. Let's come up with a recalibration concerning this possibility."
“W-what are we supposed to do?"
“We have to seek those who saw the tree as well. Those who saw it aside from us.”
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invisibleraven · 2 years ago
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Phantom Carols
For the @jatp-adventevent prompt: Best & Worst Christmas memories?
Warning for Alex's parents being The Worst (TM) in this
Day Thirteen: Make The Yuletide Gay <-AO3!
Alex has always loved Christmas. Every year right after Thanksgiving ended, his dad dragged out the boxes, his mom set up the Advent candles, and Alex’s eyes would shine as they reflected the small flame, reciting the prayers, his heart glowing warm.
Alex loved the decorations, the tinsel and lights, the smell of pine that filled the house when he and his dad dragged in the tree. The carols that rang through the air echoing the church bells as they went to every service. Alex loved how the community came together, celebrating this joyous time of year.
Sure, he got in trouble for playing with the Nativity figurines, replacing them with his He-Man dolls and Olivia’s old Barbie's. Rolled his eyes through the lecture about respecting the sanctity of the display, and was way more sneaky about making the wise men fight.
His parents were happy to lavish them both with gifts, sitting back as Alex tore through the paper, finding toys and books and then one year, a drum set. Olivia got dolls at first, and then as she grew she got clothes and make-up, and then stuff she needed to help her once she got to med school. She stopped coming home once she was at college, and Alex kind of resented her for it. He missed his sister, so sue him.
Then Alex came out.
Things became downright frosty at home, his parents vehemently refusing to accept his sexuality-to accept him. They prayed for him a lot, bringing in Father Michaels to lecture him about the sin of homosexuality, of fire and brimstone.
“I tried praying about it Father,” Alex responded coolly. “But I’m still gay. And God doesn’t make mistakes. So he must want me to stay gay.”
“You’re not praying hard enough,” his father responded. “God will listen, he will cure you of this vile disease.”
Alex sat there, enduring the judgement, their hatred, their threats. But he knew he didn’t need a cure, he wasn’t sick. He had wrestled with the truth long enough, and everyone else in his life accepted him. Maybe it was his family who were the sick ones.
He wrote to Olivia, and even she told him she loved him, no matter what. Promised to try to come home that year. But she was married now, and her partner’s family were lovely and warm where the Mercer’s were not. Alex wondered if he could come spend the holidays with them instead. But their parents refused to let Alex go, and Olivia couldn’t go against them.
That year, Alex’s gifts were brochures for conversion camps, a very large Bible with all the parts about homosexuality and sin highlighted.
And porn.
Glossy magazines covered with mostly naked women in provocative poses that his father almost shoved under his nose. “Maybe you just need to see what you’re missing. These will straighten you out.”
Alex threw them away with the wrapping paper the next week.
The next year, he spent the holidays with Luke and Reggie, squatting in the garage they were using as a studio. The three of them didn’t make it to Christmas the year after that.
However, that wasn’t the last Christmas that Alex got to celebrate. Because he got to come back. As a ghost, granted, but here he was.
And the Molina's didn’t care that he was gay. Julie was openly bi, Victoria aroace, Carlos wasn’t sure where he fell. Ray was pretty tight lipped, but Julie confessed that her dad was ‘pretty open' and left it at that. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t get porn from them. Something super gay to make sure he felt accepted, yes. But not anything as traumatizing as that last gift from his dad.
Plus being a ghost meant he had Willie.
Willie who flaunted his queerness with pride, tagging homophobic stores with graffiti, stealing queer themed decorations to put on the little tree Julie had set up in the studio, wearing rainbow striped Santa hats and socks.
Willie, who took him through the botanical gardens that were all lit up with lights for the purpose of finding real mistletoe to kiss under. Who smuggled him out eggnog and gingerbread from the club to eat with the guys. Who gave him new drumsticks that he actually paid for (Alex didn’t ask where he got the money) and a set of matching rainbow socks.
Willie, who helped him track down Olivia.
She was older now, with an adult son named Patrick who looked like he could be Alex’s twin. Who looked at his moms with the utmost love, and who introduced his boyfriend to them without fear.
“Do you wanna go in?” Willie asked. “Tell her you’re okay?”
Alex shook his head. “Just knowing she is… that’s enough for me. Let’s go home.”
Willie grinned, took his hand, and poofed them back to the studio. Where he may have strung up some more of the mistletoe, and Alex smiled as he sank into the kiss. Sure, he was a ghost, and it kind of sucked some days. But this was shaping up to still be the best Christmas he’d had in a long time.
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