#goodness i hope i'm doing this ask thing right

[cherie-doll]

Cod men reaction .

He and reader were on a mall date and reader suddenly stopped to look at a kids toy/a book/a book series. The thing is, reader grown up as the oldest grandchild, they used to have that toy/book(s), but it was ruined by their younger siblings/cousins.

Based on my real situation. Sorry for the broken grammar, I was typing this with one hand while eating pizza.

this reminds me of how i used to collect the archie comics as a kid and i loved reading them until my younger sibling ruined it bc they slobbered all over the pages like a dog, also, i hope that pizza was good i'm lowkey hungry

༢ུ· Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price would turn right away when he noticed you've stopped walking. He's watching you, the skin creasing around his eyes as he smiles and his eyes soften. There's just something to seeing you in awe, recognizing that thing you've wanted for a long time, the nostalgia that must've bubbled up inside of you seeing it again. He'll come up beside you and say "why don't we buy it?".

Simon stared, confused at what could be so interesting, and when he saw it was only a silly stuffed animal. At first he thinks it only caught your attention because it was cute, but it was quite plain, a little ugly looking plush too. But you remember hugging it when you slept as a child, it had a certain smell to it too, until it got ripped apart by your sibling's puppy. You had cried but never got a new one. Without prompting from his part you start telling him the story of how much you loved that thing, and how you still sort of do. Silently nodding and already pulling out his wallet.

Johnny actually pointed out the game you mentioned playing when you were younger, the game you described to him because you couldn't remember the name of it. "Isn't that the game you've been talking about?". You excitedly reply that it is as he picks up the box, your eyes going straight to the price tag but he's already going to checkout to buy it. You ask him what he's doing, "you've been wanting to try it out again, right?" he replies with a smile.

Kyle remembers the time he helped you go through boxes when you moved in with him and how he opened a box filled with old stuff from your childhood. He had found a set of beat up books, some with pages missing, chunks ripped out or with crayon scrawled on them. You tell him it was a series you loved reading as a kid but was messed up by your siblings who played a mean prank on you. He later goes on out and purchases the same set of books and surprised you with them when he arrives home.

Roach once noticed a keychain made of seashells hanging on your bag, some of the shells were broken but it still looked like it had been a pretty little trinket. He played with it, fidgeting with it until he asked you why you still carried the old broken keychain. You tell him it was a gift from your late grandfather that he had made, kids had pulled at it and it had fallen to the floor, breaking in pieces. You had tried fixing it before but were missing pieces. He didn't buy you a new one, instead he spent an evening gathering seashells that looked close to the broken ones and rearranging them in the same order. It was difficult but was worth seeing you happy.

Alejandro could probably late to having to give up your toys to younger siblings or cousins because he had to do the same. So, it feels as if he heals something within himself when you both stop and look at the toys in a secondhand store that bring you a sort of nostalgia. He remembers summers spent playing outside and having to share the toy plane with his siblings. He notices you staring at a toy too and decides to give into making the little kid still in both of you happy.

Rudy has seen how you still keep the little dolls aligned neatly on your shelf. He's noticed how you put up a new one every time you find one when going through your old stuff. He's listened as you tell him how there is one specific doll you remember owning that was your favorite to play with, until it was either taken by some other kid who thrown away accidentally. He spots it at an antique shop and recognizes it because he's always thinking of you. Knowing this will make you feel complete he buys it and excitedly goes home to show you.

Phillip would have been walking along just like any other day he takes you shopping at the mall for you to let some stress out by swiping a credit card. He felt the absence of your hand on his arm and when he turned around he saw you in the toy shop through the glass display. When you held it in your hands, you felt your old emotional attachment to the toy reignite, it was smaller than you remembered but still as secure and comforting as ever. You turn to find Phillip beside you, he only nods, giving you the green light to just go ahead and buy it.

Makarov would hardly deny you from buying anything you wanted. It just strikes him as odd for there to be a change in the pattern you keep of buying clothes, jewelry and other luxurious items for a stuffed animal. But he knew that soft look in your eye, the reminiscing of a memory from long ago still etched in your mind that bloomed in your heart again. His eyes went from plush to you and back to the plush again. He told you to buy it and anymore you might have wanted.

Keegan found it slightly amusing that you had gotten so excited over seeing a children's series you thought had become lost media. He had taken you to the bookstore and instead of finding some cute romcom or some classical piece of literature you ended up in the corner of the kid's book section immersed in rereading the series that had become your escapism when you were a kid. You were going to leave it back where you found it when leaving but Keegan just chuckled and told you to buy the entire series.

König stared curiously at how entranced you were by the plush the kid held in front of you while at the food court. At first, he thought you were having baby fever or something, but really you were more interested in kid's backpack plush. You remember having one as a kid, you used to take it everywhere with you until you lost it, not knowing if one of your parents gave it away. You passed by a store that sold them, and König guided you inside the store to buy one for you. It was funny when the lady at the register asked if it was a gift for your kid.

Horangi knew you always had a thing for collecting adorable figurines, toys, anything that reminded you of when you were a kid. You took care of them so well too, placing them on shelves which he built btw, and dusting them off frequently. When asked why you were so particular about caring for them, you said it was because your old toys were always being broken from your siblings playing too rough with them. It must've broke your little kid heart to see them on the ground, all dirty and chipped off pieces. Now, he is always surprising you with one when he comes back from the store.

Nikto's first thought was that you had picked up the figurine as a gift for one of the kids in your family. At first, he couldn't understand that you were getting it for you, you were staring at the toy so fondly. What memory could have arisen in your mind at the moment? But he recognized the feeling of finding serenity in the little mundane things in life; in your case a toy. He offered to pay for it and as he drove home, he kept glancing over to you and seeing how you had the little thing in your hands, holding it instead of leaving it in the bag. He couldn't even tease you for it.

[nebulaeternal]

「 ✦ Play by Play ✦ 」

―୨୧⋆ ˚GENRE/WARNING: f!xm, porn w/little plot, guided masturbation, edging, teasing, size kink, overstimulation, dirty talk, pussy play, vulgar Caleb, absolute brainrot.

―୨୧⋆ ˚SUMMARY: Caleb had returned from Skyhaven, eager to see your face as always. Trying to sneak up on you, he finds a more pleasant surprise waiting to welcome him home.

―୨୧⋆ ˚WORD COUNT: 1.9K

―୨୧⋆ ˚A/N: Here's some more of my brainrot writing, this might be a little more accurate now that I have a better idea of his character. This is a multi-part fic, I'm not sure how many parts but its likely it'll be 2. Hope you all like it, let me know what you think! Enjoy! (Did wanna add once more that if you wanna join my taglist, to make sure your settings allow me to tag you and that your username is correct.)

―୨୧⋆ ˚LINKS: AO3 Ver. , Twitter, Taglist Sign-up

―୨୧⋆ ˚TAGLIST: @noone-png, @kicupo, @rafayelsplush, @imissnanami

Your legs were clenched tightly, the man before you held a gaze so hot it burned holes through your body. What were you doing before? You had been in your room, trying desperately to get off for the last hour, frustration etched in your movements and moans as you rubbed your clit, a groan of irritation leaving your lips as yet, another orgasm slipped through your fingers, literally. 

Unbeknownst to you, Caleb had come back from Skyhaven to visit you like always. He walked through the door quietly, hoping to catch you by surprise. Gently, he shut the door behind him and carefully set down his things, looking eagerly for you till he heard the sighs and moans that came from behind your door. He knew he shouldn’t be listening in but he couldn’t help it, you sounded heavenly. “Caleb~“

His heart thumped hard in his chest, did you know he was there? “Right there-“ the sighs spilled from your lips as he listened to you. Caleb crept closer, realizing now that your door was cracked just barely, giving him a good enough view of you.

The sight he saw before him made his body burn, his skin prick with sweat, and his pants unbearably tight. There you were, draped in one of his many shirts, not an uncommon occurrence for you, but seeing your legs spread and your hand on your cunt, it made something inside him stir. 

He stayed there for a while, debating whether to stay or walk away. Unable to let himself indulge in such a guilty pleasure he began to slink away, that is until he heard your frustrated groan followed by a whine.

Sneaking back to the door, he watched you throw your head back in defeat. A pout of frustration wore on your lips, the same pout he loved so much and couldn’t resist. Without even thinking he pushed your door open.

Startled, you gasped and scrambled under your sheets. Your face burned hot as you tried to compose yourself. “Caleb-“

“Ah ah.” He said, catching you somewhat off guard. He was so serious…Taking the chair from the middle of your room, he pulled it up beside your bed and took a seat.

Your eyes flicker down at his crotch to see the strain in his pants, before quickly looking back at his face, hoping he didn’t notice the shift in gaze. “What are you-“

“I know now. You can’t hide it anymore, there’s no need to.” When he said those words your heart dropped to your ass, beating fast as you stared at him almost in horror “Caleb I’m so fucking sor-“

“Open.” He commanded. You couldn’t quite read him and you stared at him bewildered. “Your legs, open your legs.” He said more gently now. “Wha-“ His fingers graze your legs through the blanket.

“You want me right? Want my help?” Gnawing your lip, you nod slowly but surely. “Good, then spread those legs, princess.” Your face burned hot as his words reached your ears.

Doing as he asked, you peeled the blanket away and exposed your bare lower half to him. He inhaled sharply through his nose and scooted closer, the vein in his neck straining.

He leaned in, his scent infiltrating your nostrils, almost instantly short-circuiting your brain. “Sit back for me and show me how you do it, yeah?” Shyly you nodded, positioning yourself to be right in front of him.

You wanted to desperately start up again, feeling your core begin to leak once more but you were almost scared stiff. “Relax, close your eyes, and listen to my voice.” You nodded, to which he was pleased. “Good girl…now play with your clit.”

Trying your best to calm down, your fingers crept lower, eyelids fluttering shut. A strangled moan left your lips when you reached your clit. You heard a shaky breath from Caleb, which only managed to spur you on further.

His eyes were trained on your face, flicking between the bliss you exuded and the way you worked yourself. His voice was husky and breathless, “Keep going just like that..” Caleb watched intently, savoring the whines that slipped past your lips. 

Seeing how slick your entrance had become, he wanted more. “Slide your fingers inside.” He rasped out, breath growing heavy. He watched your two middle fingers slip into your cunt, stretching the flesh around it. It took absolute restraint for him to stay seated, seeing the way your chest heaved, the moans that spilled from your lips, and the shallow thrusting of your fingers. All while draped in his shirt that was way too big for you.

As you continued, a creamy white ring started to form around your fingers, the noises lewd made your ears burn. “Caleb~ Please.” you whined out, not quite sure what it was you were begging for, but he knew.

Your moans only got louder, your fear and worry long forgotten as you sank into the pleasure. Slumping back onto your elbows, you instinctively spread your legs wider, seeking more. As you neared your peak, your movements became urgent, your moans more desperate–until his next command cut through your haze “Now stop.” What? Your body betrayed you, obeying him almost instantly. Though you didn’t stop entirely, your pace did slow down, a whine of frustration escaping your lips as your pleading eyes met his.

As much as he wanted to bend at your whim, and give you what you wanted, he didn’t. He had other plans for you. Leaning back into his chair, legs spread wide, he silently shook his head. “But why?” You whimpered, fingers still moving at a torturously slow pace.

“I told you to stop, princess. Why are you still moving them, hm?” you flashed him another pleading look to which he exhaled deeply. “Alright—go on.” With his permission now granted, you eagerly resumed your previous activities, slumping back into your elbows as the world around you faded into nothing but the intense sensations he had so carefully put together.

Lost in the indulgence, you barely noticed the faint rustling and shifting sounds nearby. Every ounce of focus was consumed by your approaching climax, your sole objective now was to reach it.

Then there it was, a moan that didn’t belong to you, a very strangled, guttural moan. You paused your movements, sitting up to look at him, only to find him palming himself through his pants. His gaze was lidded, staring at you through the fringe of his hair.

You stared at him almost in awe, forgetting your pleasure for a moment. Then he got up, his body moving almost completely beyond his control. Quickly he closed the distance, pushing you flat against the bed. Leaning down he whispers in your ear, “Don’t stop now, you’ve been doing so good.” 

Before your mind could process his words, you felt his fingers rest atop yours, aiding to push them deeper into your pussy, causing you to shut your eyes and moan loudly. Your eyes fluttered open when you heard him chuckle softly.

He continued to guide your fingers, his larger hand almost completely covering yours as you stared deep into his irises, purple and sparkling with mischief. You felt his finger start to intrude your entrance, sliding in right next to yours, causing you to gasp out.

“Caleb—oh fuck.” You tossed your head back into the sheets, absolutely blissed out. He studied your face closely, watching every change in your expression as he fingered you. Suddenly he stopped. Your head whipped up as you pouted but before you could protest, he hoisted you up and sat you in his lap, your back resting against his chest.

One of his arms hooked under your knee, bending your leg, while the other snaked over your waist and rested on your hip, forcing your thighs apart. You hadn’t realized the scene before you, till you saw the glint of his necklace chain in the mirror in front of you.

That’s right, the mirror that you look into every single day, making sure you were stylish before heading out, was now reflecting something far more obscene. Your cunt was on full display for him to see and his hand was only snaking closer to your clit.

Unable to deal with the embarrassment it brought upon you, you whipped your head away, trying to hide your face in his arm as best as possible. “Eyes up, baby girl.” 

“I-I can’t-“ you whined, almost pleading to let you off. Attempting to bury your face further, your body shifts slightly. He pinches your clit lightly, causing you to gasp out and arch your back.

“Yes, you can. Now eyes up.” He instructed soft and low into your ear. You managed to look up, finding his face nestled in the crook of your neck, peeking out over your shoulder as he slipped his fingers inside you.

“Oh my god—“ you sighed out, body tensing in his hold as he worked you slowly. Caleb watched you through the reflection of the mirror, loving how you squirmed and whined for him. The grip on his forearm was rough, nails digging crescents into his skin. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You practically sobbed out after being denied an orgasm for so long.

Your other arm managed to find its way to his hair, gripping him tightly and pulling him even closer to your neck, moaning shamelessly as his teeth sank into the flesh of your neck.

He chuckled darkly, quite amused with your desperation as your hips bucked up to meet his fingers. Your pussy was a leaking mess, fluids and juices flowing down onto the bulge of his pants—that sat right below your cunt.

He continued to tease you, bringing you too close to your high and refusing to let you fall. A tortuous tug of war ensued with your body. Tears of frustration streamed down your face as you babbled and begged him. and as much as he loved the sound of your pleading whines, he couldn't help but give in to your pleas, he wanted to have fun too after all. 

Slowly, he slipped his fingers out of you, squelching in the process. Gently pushing you onto your feet, he spun you both and dragged you onto the mattress. He slowly removed his shirt, exposing the expanse of muscle that lay beneath the fabric.

Your face grew hot with each inch of skin exposed, eyes trailing down to the ‘V’  that dips right under his beltline. You were staring so hard you didn’t even realize his shirt was fully taken off till his hands reached for his belt buckle, slowly unclasping it.

“Like what you see?” He teased, watching the way your eyes followed his movements, how you subconsciously gnawed on your lip, absolutely mesmerized. You’re not quite sure how, but you were suddenly possessed with the courage to walk up and touch him, but you did and something inside him snapped.

Caleb laid you down eagerly, sprawling you out on the mattress, admiring the view below him—you wearing his shirt, looking up at him flushed and desperate.

“Such a perfect mess for me.” He murmured, running a hand along your thigh, and pulling your hips flush against his crotch— loving the way you gasped and jolted at merely his touch. “You’re so sensitive, Princess~” he teased, emphasizing the nickname that had your knees weak.

Unconsciously you clench your legs, which elicited a reaction from him. He leaned down, dog tags clinking before resting on your neck as he whispered into your ear. “You love being called princess, don’t you? Princess.”

「 ✦ Part 2. Coming Soon! ✦ 」

[illbegottenfaith]

the one where theo asks you out to a wedding

exes to lovers

In his defence, Theo landed on your doorstep only after he had exhausted all other options. He took in a deep breath, steeling his nerves, and knocked. After a minute or two, he heard the patter of hurried footsteps and the door swung open.

"Hey."

Your face looked a little less round, perhaps. Your hair was shorter than he remembered, but your eyes looked just as sweet and forgiving as they always did. Only now

"Hey."

No open hostility. Theo could work with that. He was starting to feel a little hot in his suit. He scratched the back of his neck. Your eyes narrowed at the action.

"What do you want?"

Theo coughed awkwardly.

"Why do you just assume I want something?"

The corner of your lip quirked up.

"I dated you for years, Theodore. I think I know when you want something."

He took a deep breath and stuck his hands into his pockets, glancing at the door as he struggled to meet your eye. He should have brought flowers or something. Merlin, what was so nerve-wracking about talking to you? He did it plenty enough, once upon a time.

"I...need a favour."

"I figured."

Theo wished you'd stop staring at him so plainly. Instead, you leaned against the doorframe, tilting your head up at him while you patiently waited for him to spit out whatever he had to say.

"Mattheo's getting married," he blurted out.

Instantly, your face softened. Theo felt a pang of guilt somewhere deep inside his gut. When the two of you were dating, you always had a soft spot for Mattheo, as did he for you. In fact, he seemed more heartbroken than Theo after the breakup. But the fact remained that he, like a lot of your mutual friends, knew Theo before you, and so his social circle remained somewhat intact while you faded into oblivion.

He hadn't thought twice about it at the time, but seeing your face light up made him realise that this must be the first you had heard about any of your old friends since graduation. He had never meant to tear you away from friends who were every bit yours as they were his.

Then again, he had never wanted to break up with you in the first place.

Your lips curved into a familiar smile that tugged at something inside his chest.

"That's...wow. I'm so happy for him. That's incredible."

"It is. I'm the best man."

"I should hope so. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

Another painful silence drew out between the two of you. Theo stared at his palm uncomfortably.

"I need a date," he forced out.

You looked unimpressed.

"And? None of your model girlfriends can make it?"

Theo had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

"I'm sick of - they're not my girlfriends."

"Right," you drawled, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Too famous to be tied down, are we?"

Theo pulled at the knot of his tie desperately. He didn't remember you being this frustrating.

"I don't want to take any of them."

You shrugged. "Then go solo."

"C'mon, Y/N. Everyone's bringing a plus one."

You leaned towards him with a sardonic smile.

"That's the wonderful thing about not being your girlfriend anymore. Not. My. Problem. Bye now."

Theo jammed his foot in as you unsuccessfully tried to close the door.

"I'll pay you."

You laughed incredulously. "You can't be serious."

It had been a long shot, but he was running out of ideas. He dragged a hand through his hair.

"What do you want?" What did you want? "More attention? More gifts? I'll pay for your dress. I'll buy you dinner."

"Careful, or I'll think this is an actual date."

"Please, Y/N," he started saying before his brain could catch up. "We used to be so good together."

Your eyes darkened. You bit the inside of your cheek.

"What happened?"

You folded your arms, your eyes gleaming in the dusk that had settled around the two of you. You shook your head almost helplessly.

"I don't know. You were...you were great. I loved you. You loved me. You started playing Quidditch. You got good." Your pressed your lips into a thin line. "Then you got mean."

Theo scoffed half-heartedly. "Look, I didn't -"

"You stopped listening to me, Teddy," you interrupted.

That shut him up. He didn't know what to say. You didn't sound upset or even angry. Just hollow and a little disappointed.

You took the invitation Theo had been loosely holding and scanned the details.

"What the hell," you muttered. "Sure. Why not?"

Theo blinked a few times. As hard as he had tried to persuade you, he hadn't expected you to actually agree.

"Really?"

He looked so earnest, you couldn't help yourself. You rolled your eyes almost affectionately.

"Keep your wallet away. I'll foot the bill for my dress."

"No - please, let m- "

There, in the dim twilight, with the salty evening air stinging your faces, you cut him off with a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Night, Teddy," you murmured.

This time, he didn't try to stop you as you shut the door.

[chaoticwriting]

YOU ARE MARRIED 4!!??

Part 3

Clockwork: Welcome back, my boy. How does the mission go?

Danny: I'm going to assume you ask that purely out of courtesy but it is going fine. I capture Vlad and only experience some minor inconveniences.

Clockwork: Hmmm, minor inconveniences for now it is.

Danny: I'm sorry what?

Clockwork: Nothing. Anyway, you should get ready to go pick up Ellie. Also take this.

Clockwork throws a bag full of things on to Danny as he clumsily catches it.

Danny: Oh no, you are not just brushing it off. Tell me wha- AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

A green portal opens below Danny as he falls into it, leaving behind an unconscious Vlad on the floor and Clockwork standing there looking solemnly at the closing green portal.

Clockwork: I hope you will be able to face your future challenges well my boy.

-Gotham-

Batman is seriously not having a good night tonight. He just finished Riddler's riddles when he gets news that Black Mask and Bane are currently engaging in a shootout in the harbor.

It's bad enough that there are 3 rogues that are out tonight, his daughter is also not talking to him since he forced her to go on patrol tonight since she has been benched for far too long.

It's not that he doesn't understand her but he seriously needs help with both Red Robin and him injured, Red Hood is dealing with something in his territory and Nightwing is out of town. Only Spoiler, Black Bat and Robin are available since they are not supposed to patrol tonight.

When they arrive at the scene though, all they see is knocked out Black Mask and Bane, alongside a line of goons that are sitting on the ground with head hanging low like they are ashamed of something.

Upon closer inspection, they see a man standing in front of the line of goons, lecturing them about gun safety and how irresponsible they are for shooting and disturbing the night.

Batman has been doing this vigilante work for a long time and this still can easily be ranked in the top 10 of the wildest things he has seen.

But he is Batman. So he will adapt to the situation. Slowly approaching the man, he is startled and stunned when the man turns around and starts to lecture him about fighting while injured and the importance of rest.

He is about to refute the man when a black shadow passes by him and pushes towards the man. He sees the man equally startled at first and finally intercepts the fast shadow with a hug.

Everyone falls into awkward silence as everyone from the goons and the Batfamily watch as the man and Black Bat hug each other for a long time.

Batman: Ehem!

Batman's fake cough catches the attention of the two hugging figures as they separate with a clear (green?) blush on the man's face. The man turns towards the goons and urges them to go back home and thinks about what he says.

Normally, Batman would have stopped him to capture all the goons but right now, there is a lot more important matter at hand. Batman watches as the goons pick up their belongings and scramble away to what he assumes to be their home.

Batman: Are you Daniel Fenton?

Danny: Yes and I assume you are Batman.

Batman: *Grunts*

Danny: I'll take that as a yes.

Batman: What are you doing here?

Danny: I have come to pick up my daughter. Unfortunately, my luck isn't that good. I got caught up in the shootout between these two guys and their minions and decided to stop it.

Danny says as he points towards the unconscious Bane and Black Mask laying on the ground. Spoiler and Robin approach them and check their condition. After confirming they are just unconscious, they tie the two unconscious men and contact Jim to come collect the rogues.

While Batman is supervising their work, he could hear the subtle flirting happening between Danny and his daughter. He usually is very good at handling his emotions but right now, he really doesn't know how he is supposed to feel.

Batman: Let's go back first. We will continue this conversation later.

Batman then returns to the Batmobile to see only Spoiler, Red Robin and Robin following him. He stares at Spoiler as she replies with a shrugs.

Black Bat: I will show Danny the way.

Batman releases another sigh. As the Batmobile engine booms through the streets, a silent invisible car follows it from behind.

When they arrive at the Batcave, it is quite a surprise when a car suddenly appears right beside them. Its sleek black with neon green gives it a weird retro style design.

Exiting it are an unmasked Black Bat that is blushing a little and Danny that is grinning widely. Bruce can feel his eyebrows twitching when he sees the scene. He controls his impulse to go beat up Danny and calls Alfred to inform him of their guest.

They sit together in silence as all of them think of what they question they are gonna ask him when the elevator lets out a ding and comes out Alfred.

Danny turns towards the elevator and is surprised to see a familiar face.

Danny: Mr. Pennyworth. How are you doing?

Alfred: I am good, Mr. Daniel. How are you doing? Still traveling I assume.

Danny: I am also good. Hahaha. I try to do less traveling now that I have a family but you know how it is. I don't find problems, problems find me.

Stephanie: Wait, you two knew each other.

Alfred: Why yes. We go way back with him sometimes helping me and me sometimes helping him.

Danny: Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you said you want to retire from fighting.

Alfred: A lot has happened since we last saw each other. I for one become the butler of this family.

Danny: A butler? Well you do make a good tea. Wait, you mean this family. As in all of you guys are one family?

Alfred: Oh, Miss Cassandra didn't tell you? I would have assumed you know.

Danny: You know I wouldn't pressure her to tell me if she isn't comfortable about it. After all, each of us has a secret of our own, right?

To that statement, both of them just let out a little knowing smile. The rest of them are pretty stunt at the revelation that both Danny and Alfred know each other.

Stephanie: Wait, Danny. How old are you?

Danny: I am 21. Why?

Stephanie: Then how did you know Alfred? Both of you have like half a decade of age difference.

Danny: Oh! I can time travel.

Tim: *While getting his hand bandaged by Alfred* You can time travel?

Danny: Well, not me. I know someone that can send me traveling through time.

Stephanie: So when Alfred said you are traveling, he means traveling through time.

Danny: Well, that and dimension too.

Tim: And why did you travel to these places?

Danny: Many reasons. Visiting someone, delivering items, and even capturing prisoners.

Tim: So you are a servant of someone?

Danny: Servant in a sense your parents ask you to do something. Sure, I could avoid him and just run away. But last time I did that, he made me write a 1000 word apology essay in an ancient language.

Bruce: Is it Clockwork the one you are talking about?

Danny: Oh you heard of him? Yeah. He is like my mentor/parental figure. He helps me train my power and solve my problems and such.

Suddenly, a little figure pounces on Danny as he easily intercepts it and spins the little figure.

Ellie: Hi Papa!

Danny: Hello, honey. What are you doing still not sleeping?

Ellie: I was waiting for Mama to return from work.

Danny: I see. But it is quite late isn't it. We should take you to bed now.

Cass: Ellie, I thought I already put you to bed before I went out.

Ellie: I woke up when you were getting out of bed. I wanted to follow you but Alfred doesn't allow me to.

Cass looks at Alfred apologetically. It seems that her daughter is more perceptive than she thought.

Alfred: I do believe that this conversation can also be postponed to the next morning. I would rather that all of you have enough energy to deal with your day tomorrow too.

Bruce & Tim: *Groan*

Stephanie: Can I have a cookie before going to bed?

Ellie: Oh, I want it too!

Cass: You shouldn't eat sweets before going to bed, sweetheart.

Ellie: But Aunt Steph is also getting a cookie.

Cass: Don't follow your aunt Steph. You don't want to have your teeth all fall off right?

Ellie: *Covering her mouth* No!

Alfred: I also agree with Miss Cassandra. It is a little too late to have a midnight snack. Master Damian is also tired from how he is holding himself.

Everyone turns towards the oddly silent Damian and sees that Damian is leaning against the wall as his head bops up and down dozing off to sleep. Bruce goes to pick up Damian that snuggles closer into Bruce's shoulder as he is being carried up to his room.

Under Alfred's insistence, everyone returns to their bedroom that night.

[jsmainblog]

Hii, I had an idea for something from Spencer x Fem Reader. where she is one of the youngest on the team, along with Spencer, they are a couple and she has a daughter-father relationship with Aaron. She always plays different board games with Hii, I had an idea for something from Spencer x Fem Reader. where she is one of the youngest on the team, along with Spencer, they are a couple and she has a daughter-father relationship with Aaron. She always plays different board games with him, and he always beats him, she always blames him with Aaron, and one day when they were playing chess she beats him. She gets very happy and celebrates about it, and when everyone gets off the plane Aaron says something like 'you let her win right?' and Spencer responds 'yes, but look at her, she looks so happy'.

Bragging Rights °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

a/n: yeah sure thing that sounds so cute!!! i hope this is kinda along the lines of what you wanted!!!!! I'm sorry if this is kinda bad :((

The case had been a gruelling one which kept many BAU members under stress. You had been stressed out for the past week working on the case putting your all into find the unsub. Everyone could see it, even Hotch who asked if you were going okay and if you needed a break he would be happy to give you one so your mind could take a break. Many members had felt worried about you including your boyfriend Spencer Reid.

When you got onto the jet it seemed like a physical weight had been lifted from your shoulders. It had been such a stressful week all you wanted to do was get home, take a hot shower and unwind on the couch with a hot cup of tea. Hotch came and placed a paternal hand on your shoulder as he walked past, providing a subtle comfort for you. You smiled up at him as he mouthed "you good?" earning him a nod from you. Spencer sat down across from you smiling.

"Hey angel up for some more chess? Maybe you could actually beat me this time who knows?" he teases

"Oh I'm defeintly going to beat you"

"Yeah but last time you said that you lost same with the time before that and the time before that and so on and so forth. But who knows maybe the tables will turn." he says

The game played out. As usual he always let you have the white side so you go first. This game was different though, it looked like you might...win?

When you finally squandered Spencer's king you let out a triumphant cheer. JJ leaned over and highfived you.

"That's the first time anyones won against Spence, good job!!" she cheers before shooting a knowing look towards Spencer who raised his hands in a playful surrender.

"Well looks like the student becomes the master. Good job baby." he says gently leaning over to peck your lips which you met in enthusiasm. You were clapped on the back by Hotch afterwards who congratulated you.

"Good job y/n. I'm proud of you." he murmurs before looking at Reid with a questioning look before smiling to himself.

"So do I have bragging rights now?" you question playfully to which Spencer rolls his eyes.

"Yes my lovely you do."

"Yay!!!"

When the plane finally lands Spencer lets you go ahead as you excitedly chat to Garcia.

"You let her win right?" Hotch says coming up behind him making Spencer jump a little

"Hm?" he hums

"Y/n. You let her win at chest right?"

"Yeah..But look at her she looks so happy and she needed this especially after the last case." Spencer murmurs.

Hotch and Spencer smile both gazing at you with affection as you cross the tarmac.

"I love her." Spencer blurts which earns Hotch's attention.

"I know you do."

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 20th-26th 2025

On time this week, woohoo! And less thsan 40 days until season 8B !!

Special mention to all of @tizniz's drabbles that I've been reblogging, which you can find on her tumblr or on ao3 at E & E: A Buddie Drabble Collection !

Let me know if I'm missing a tag for someone!

Complete

home is where you've called my name by atlasblue85/ @atlasblue85 (Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 3K | General): Buck plays a game with himself. It goes something like this: for every house Eddie outright rejects, he adds an item to his list of why Eddie shouldn't move to El Paso. He doesn't know what the threshold is, that magic number that will make him finally speak up and express his thoughts to Eddie, but until he finds it, this is how he's coping. They're up to nine so far. Nine perfectly good houses, nine reasons Eddie shouldn't go.

you're a dog (i'm your man) by withmeornotatall / @chronicowboy (Dog Shelter AU | 3K | General): "Hey." He turns around, leans against the doorframe, tries to look casual. "Maybe, only if you're free of course, you could come round and let Chris pick out a band aid for you tonight. Don't want you bleeding out before you can get your Spider-Man band aid." Buck lights up like the fucking sun. Oh no. Eddie has one rule: never take a dog home. But he thinks Buck might be worth the risk. (OR: eddie is a dog trainer with patience, buck is a shelter worker with more bark than bite)

🔥 My Mouth Don't Move When I'm In Too Deep by taegyungie (PWP, Semi-Public Sex | 7K | Explicit): But here’s the thing: Eddie’s taken giant mouthfuls of life and chewed every last one of them up. He’s taken enough, he’s still taking enough - he doesn’t want to be the one to ask for it. All he can do is offer himself up, over and over, and hope that Buck will finally get the hint and dig his claws into what’s been his from the very start.

🔥 Five Years by aubrey_writes (Blip AU | 8K | Mature): Buck gets blipped. Eddie's left behind. A love story told through what Eddie did in his absence.

Liminal Space by ameliahart (NDE, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Eddie Diaz dies on a sunny afternoon in January. It seems fitting, he thinks, that it should happen like this: trapped beneath three floors of a collapsed apartment building, a piece of rebar through his right lung, and his eyes on the love of his life. Because of course Buck is here with him, watching horrified as Eddie’s love and life bleed out around him.

Buck, Bedbugged and Bewildered by writedontfight (Post-S8A AU | 8K | Explicit): Buck gets bedbugs, so he's staying at Eddie's until they're gone.

🔥 everything you need (put all you need in me) by jaekyu (PWP, FWB | 9K | Explicit): Eddie imagines it. The faux-domesticity of grocery shopping with his best friend and full-time fuckbuddy, filled up with come like a jam donut or something. It would be kind of ironic. It would be definitely, wholeheartedly, totally erotic.

My boy only breaks his favorite toys by paleredheadinascifi (Amnesia, Post-S8A | 10K | Teen): Eddie wakes up five years in the future. It turns out five years is all it takes to ruin a friendship and run your life into the ground. Or, Eddie gets hurt and his apparently now ex-best friend Buck hops on a plane to El Paso. They figure out what the fuck happened together.

🔥 Firelight by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Post-S7, Monster Eddie, HOH Buck | 61K | Explicit): When, in the worst of missing Christopher, Eddie suddenly finds himself having literally turned into a monster, Buck - who is also dealing with a newfound hearing loss diagnosis - is willing to do anything to protect him. Even from himself. OR: Eddie is a creature from Swedish folklore, feat. HOH!Buck

WIP

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 35/? | 23K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

35. 44. A goodbye kiss, but neither of you can quite let go 

🔥 An Angry Blade by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-8x05: Masks, Cursed Buck | 1/6 | 8K | Mature): Buck finds out that the curse of Billy Boils is VERY real, and far more complicated and dangerous than he could have expected.

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 12/? | 76K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Doe & a Drop of Golden Sun by ohstars/ @oh-stars (Canon Divergent, Dad Buck | 8/? | 37K | Teen): Buck doesn't mean to keep secrets from everyone, but he also can't talk about the pain he experiences on a day to day basis. With his nine-year-old living across the country and his custody limited to one monthly visit, Buck doesn't know how to share this part of himself. How does he tell his team of six years that he's had a kid this whole time? How does he tell his sister? How does he tell his Edd-- best friend? It's fine. The universe isn't going to give him a choice in the matter when the worst thing imaginable becomes his reality.

Podfic

Sunlight is Fire (Burning is a Matter of Degrees) by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Incubbi Buck, FWB | 1-1.5h | Explicit): In the wake of Buck's leg injury, Eddie learns that his friend needs some unusual methods to help him recover. Eddie's willing to do whatever it takes to help Buck, and it's not like this could make his quiet pining any worse, right?

Bed Sharing Concerto in Monsterfucking No. 3 by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Werewolf Eddie, Human Buck, Only One Bed | 10-20min | Explicit): Buck has the worst fucking luck. His only consolation here is that Eddie’s with him, so at least he’s not alone in a cabin with no Wifi, no central heat, no cell service, and no proper winter gear. The water works, the pipes haven’t frozen (yet) so at least he can get briefly clean. He’s so focused on scrubbing the day away that it’s not until he gets out and heads into the bedroom that he realizes— There’s only one bed.

A Chorus of Howls by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Werewolves, PWP | 10-20min | Explicit): Buck is running through the woods. He’s on two feet, four, two again, dodging around trees, kicking up dirt, leaping and landing hard. Behind him, sometimes, he thinks he can hear another set of feet—a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, black on black, shadow on shadow— There. There. He can smell his pursuer’s blood and he runs faster, fast as he can. He’s not going to lose. His blood is up and running and so is he.

Duet for Two Monsters by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Werewolf Eddie, Succubus Buck | 20-30min | Explicit): Buck’s been meaning to tell Eddie for a while, now. Especially now that they’re both single again. He needs to tell Eddie, because he’s pretty sure—he thinks he’s sure—that Eddie loves him back. And he won’t be intimate with Eddie without telling him. Of course, it’s a bit hard to start that conversation, on a logistical level. Hey so I have horns and a tail and feed off people’s orgasms, fun, right?

🔥 [Podfic] Buddie, It's Cold Outside by diazaster287 // fic by terranobis (Christmas, Hallmark AU | 1-1.5h | Not Rated): Big City businessman Evan Buckley travels to a small town Christmas Village in an attempt to save his personal and professional life, but when he meets the local father Eddie Diaz, he finds that he just might get the greatest present he could ever ask for.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

craziest thought: what if arkham knight and redhood are twins?

RH is Jason the older twin, AK is Jayce the younger twin

They both were adopted by Bruce and became Robin and Redstart respectively, Batman's Wonder Twins. The twins met Reader in Gotham Academy, saving them from a bunch of guys asking for your number. From there, the three became a tight knit group.

Then, disaster struck when Robin and Redstart had to seperate for a while because of different missions. Jason stayed in Gotham, Jayce went to a different country.

Jason found a lead about his mother and track it down only to get captured by the Joker.

When Jayce came back, it was to a home with a dead twin. Filled with anger, he tries to get revenge only to be stopped by Batman. Tensions were high, Jayce became even more angry and frustrated at his family. The only good thing in his life now was you, but your presence was not enough to calm his rage. Maybe in another world, if you tried harder, you could prevent Jayce from taking the path of revenge but this world is not that world.

Just like his twin, Jayce got caught by the Joker and went through hell.

"Two birds in one stone! Or should I say crowbar?" Joker laughs, a bloody crowbar in his hand.

Batman's spirit has never been as crushed as this moment, watching the video Joker sent to him of Jayce being tortured with the same crowbar that killed Jason.

You became a ahadow of yourself. Two of your best friends died one after the other. All the naive hope and determination left in you died like a little candle light after hearing about Jayce's death.

End Scene.

i'm fasting right now so all sorts of ideas are cooking in my brain. honestly i just want to see RH and AK duking it out for you but then this happened lol anyways thank you and congrats on your followers milestone!!

ooooooooooohhhhhh, OW! Ugh, this AU is just– wow– I'm so invested. There's so much angst potential here and the way this brain worm has not left my head since you dropped this in my inbox!

Just– you went from having the world, two best friends that you would do anything for (and they would do the same for you) and now you're left with nothing but twin gravestones?? Frothing at the mouth and unwell.

It's almost worse when they do come back, because neither of them are the same. Of course they have similar goals, a desire for revenge, but they aren't the boys you spent every single second of your day with. You think they would work together, but they're angry at everybody, angry at each other, and I would even say they're angry at you.

Jason is angry nothing changed when he died, he's angry that you didn't do enough to save his brother. But he's also angry at AK for leaving you behind, for falling for the same trap he did.

AK is angry that you didn't find him– that no one found him. He blames everyone for not being enough to help when he was mourning his brother. And he's so angry that his older brother– the one who got the mantle of Robin– let himself get killed.

But anger doesn't change the fact that you're still you. You were (are?) their best friend, and that starts to twist you into some sort of prize. If they can get you on their side, doesn't that prove that they're in the right? It's a mockery of how they used to argue over your opinions as children. But none of you are kids anymore, and now there's a war with too many sides in Gotham that you're stuck in the middle of.

And you hate that they expect you to choose, you're angry too. You don't want to choose– wouldn't want to even if they were the same as they were before. Even if you could choose, your options are between a crime lord and the head of a militia, and who knows what would happen to you if you gave into either of them.

But don't get it wrong, you want to help them, you miss them more than anything. And there's really only a handful of people who understand that, so if you go running to Wayne Manor in hopes of finding a better way, well, let's just say it never crossed your mind how that would affect them.

[sirxlla]

Better Late Than Never

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

Warnings: Fluff 🥰

Prompt: He's always late but you're understanding. (request: @nesting-dreams )

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

If there was one thing that stressed Dick out, it was trying to balance his work, life, and sleep schedule in the limited time that was twenty-four hours. There wasn't even remotely any pressure from you, even if he felt there was; he's a goddamn superhero; The guy is busy, of course, he is. No matter how many times you tell Dick that it's okay, he just won't remove that weight from his shoulders.

Date night...Oh, you were so excited. You got cleaned up real spiffy, the dress, the heals, the makeup, and the lingerie you sneakily had under your dress on the off chance he actually had the time or made it cause, let's face it, Dick always makes time for that, your sex life is awesome even if it was quick some times. The things he often struggled with were the things that took longer, the talking and dates, and such.

Thirty minutes had passed by and the waiter asked if there was gonna be someone else to which you politely reminded him yes there is. The waiter was being rather annoying as he kept trying to make sly comments about not keeping you waiting and how he'd never do that. You rolled your eyes in your mind but smiled.

"Well, I appreciate it but I have a boyfriend." You said as politely as one could considering how rude and frustrating this man was being.

"What boyfriend? I don't see him and you could do so much better..." The waiter boasted he was unattractive in looks but even more so in his continuing attitude, so when even though Dick showed up out of breath and covered in sweat, it was a relief.

"Just on time." You smile as you looked at Dick even though he and you both knew he was damn sure not on time.

"Just on time, it's been forty mi-" He stops as you give him a look to help him become aware of the situation, to which he clears his throat.

"Yeah, you're right, Baby," Dick says with a smile as he slightly dead-eyes the waiter so he gets the message. Thankfully the waiter gets it even as he looks at Dick judgementally cause of his clothes.

"Hey, I'm so sorry; I- the bat bike broke down, and I ran the rest of the way here. I- I promise, I didn't forge-" Stopped by your hand, reaching across the table to gently fix his hair.

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Honey. You know that."

"But I- I should have been on time."

"Yeah, Shame on you. I nearly melted into a puddle like the Wicked Witch." You teased trying to distract him from his worries.

"I mean, that would be awful; that would not be how I picture that dress on the floor tonight." He quipped as he almost forgot his worry.

"Exactly, so it's good when you arrived at all." You smiled and grabbed his hand across the table to calm him.

"I just hate that I do this over and over." He looks into your eyes as he talks, worry in every single bit of his being, in his tone and shoulders, in his eyes and his fast heartbeat.

"Dick, No one is putting pressure on you in this relationship, just you. Okay? I get busy too, I get it. Okay?" You nod as you ask hoping he'll understand a bit or it'll at least curb his fears for the night. He nods and another sever approches, a woman.

"Sorry, your other server stepped out." She smiles as she speaks.

"Oh, thank god." You and Dick say that same time on accident before you both try to apologize.

"No, it's nothing Garrett's a complete asshole." She whispers before getting your drinks and leaves to give you a few minutes for the menu. A bit passes, and she comes back and hands over those drinks and gets your orders. She grabs the menus and she's on her way.

"You sure you're not ma-"

"Richard, if I hear about it one more time."

"I just-"

"No. Take a deep breath and look into my eyes. Does this look like someone who's upset?" You asked and forced him to look up at you with a bit by gently guiding his chin. His anxiety melted with that one look into the depths of your eyes, the layers of love, compassion, and care in them calming his worry.

"N- No."

"You're right. I'm not, so don't think I am okay. Don't ever think I am? I could never be upset with you for saving lives and kicking ass. I know what I got into when I got with you, and what I got is a badass boyfriend who I couldn't imagine was real like you've been plucked from my sweetest dreams."

"Cheesey...That was cheesy." He quips as he tries to tear up. "Like ten pounds of different flavors." He looks up trying to dry the tears by making it seem like he's looking at the light. He takes a breath and realizes his anxiety is just getting bad.

"If I ever lost you, I'd go mad." He states and kisses your knuckles, rubbing his pillowy lips across them to calm himself.

Your food arrives, and shortly after eating and on the way home, he also begins to realize he was just hungry as well, and that was contributing to it. He offered to drive your vehicle home since you had a bit of wine which, of course, you said yes. He kept his hand in yours reminding himself to add this to the list of moments in his brain to remind himself of when he gets anxious or worried.

You looked gorgeous, and he kept glancing at you, realizing you fell asleep at some point, and his heart swelled. He parks the car shortly after when he arrives at the manor. Dick can't bring himself to wake you, so he carries you inside. He gets you to the room; he knows he should wake you so you don't sleep in your makeup, but he just can't make himself.

Dick lays you down and undoes the buckle straps on your heels, gently setting them down. He unzips the dress and peels it off you only to be met with the lingerie, which causes him to let out a verbal but quiet "Damn it."

He smiles and undresses before heading to shower to rinse off the sweat residue. Dick wanted nothing more than to go to bed, but he wasn't tired, and this insomnia was kicking his ass, so he got on his laptop and scrolled around for a while looking at things from suit upgrades to engagement rings, before feeling tired enough to cuddle up against his sweet girl.

Masterlist

Send me prompts if youd like. 💙

[jujuicykaisen]

If I may ask, who do you think jjk has the biggest predator/prey kink? I'm so thinking gojo is a strong contender in his feral state or perhaps Geto in his cult leader era( especially if the reader is either a weaker sorcerer or a non- sorcerer) 🤭

Ooh, good question!

Characters: Ryomen Sukuna, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto

Contents: gn!reader, sub/dom play, primal play, predator/prey play, biting, breathplay, unhealthy relationship dynamics, Sukuna is his own warning

Ryomen Sukuna

For Sukuna this is less of a kink and more of a lifestyle. Everyone’s the prey, and he’s the apex predator. That is his mindset, and very little can change it. Even if you are considered worthy enough (or satisfying/amusing/useful enough to sit at his side, it’ll always, always be in a subordinate position. Naturally, this applies to the bedroom (or whatever location he feels like) too.

He’ll take you by your throat, holding you with just enough pressure that you can feel your pulse pounding against his fingertips, without cutting off the circulation, just enough so that every breath feels like a precious gift, and he will rasp at you to “Run.”

He takes the idea of primal play very literally. 

He’ll conjure endless mazes in his domain and force you to run through them, his mocking laughter ringing in your ears from all sides as you flee futilely from the King of Curses. 

“Run faster. I want to play with my offering before I eat it.”

Thankfully, you know he doesn’t intend on actually eating you (you hope), so he has a more erotic and carnal kind of consumption in mind. 

When he catches you…oh, when he catches you.

He’ll fuck you against the nearest surface, whether that happens to be a wall, a floor, a table, his throne, or a pile of bones. Depending on how hot his blood is running from the chase, he might hold your legs open and feast on you until you kick and beg for reprieve, or he’s jumping straight into fucking you. 

He’s the King of Overstimulation as well as the King of Curses. He likes how you buck and squirm, cry and claw at him when it all gets to be too much for you. If you bite him, he just fucks you harder.

Hand around your throat, pinning you down by it, he leers at you and calls you his “feral little beast” in a tone of deep, smug approval.

Satoru Gojo

With Gojo, it’s always usually going to be a bedroom-play kind of thing. He’s probably too lazy to get into full BSDM stuff, but he’s definitely not above using his superior height, weight, and strength to introduce some domination play into your activities. 

Holding you down turns him on, especially if it’s a mating press kind of position, where you’re almost folded in half, legs over his shoulders, and he’s plunging in deep. The way you cry out and dig your fingernails into his biceps either side of your head gives him almost as much pleasure as the way you clench around him.

However, he does have that other side to him. The one we see when he’s fighting Jogo and Hanami. Feral, fearless, fully in his element as the strongest sorcerer in the world. If he’s just had a fight like that, and he comes home drunk on his own power, high off the battle, then it’s actually a little alarming when those glowing blue eyes fixate on you like you’re the next thing he needs to conquer. 

You give into some instinct and bolt up the stairs, breathless with nervous anticipation,  only for Gojo to appear right behind you. Did he warp, or is he just moving that crazy fast? Either way, doesn’t matter. Clothes? Gone. You? On your back.

For a split second you get a chance to see what it is like to be a curse, facing down the inevitability that is Satoru Gojo. Fortunately for you, he has much different plans in mind than exorcising you. More like, exercising you…

“Got you,” he says.

Picture him running his hands up the insides of your thighs, that feral, hungry look on his face.

“This is where you’re weak, right?”

Suguru Geto

Geto definitely has a very hierarchical view of the world. There are sorcerers, non-sorcerers, and curses. (Not necessarily in that order. He might even rank humans below curses in terms of worthiness.) He considers even some of his fellow sorcerers as beneath him, especially if they oppose his world view or are just too weak to be of use to him. 

If you’re a weak sorcerer, or worse, not a sorcerer at all, then he definitely views you as some kind of prey. Whatever qualities it is you possess that has made him overlook your inferior state of being aren’t enough to make him see you as an equal. (This is not a healthy relationship, but oh boy, is it exciting.)

He’ll make a game out of tracking you down. Perhaps send you on a wild goose chase errand and subtly let you know he’s watching you. Presuming you can see curses, he’ll send the ones in his control to follow you, to make you feel hunted

This also happens if you go out without permission. He always knows where to find you. 

Geto follows at a distance, a smirk curling the corners of his mouth as he watches you stumble away from the terrifying creatures that loom up at you out of every shadow.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His voice is mocking. “Don’t you like my friends?”

The intent is to drive you back to him, back into his arms, where you’ll admit that he’s the strong one, the superior one, and submit. 

He has a tendency to wrap his large hand around your throat during sex, as if to emphasise that every breath you take is at his leisure. He’s not the type to resort to being rough when mind games and intimidation will do.

He’s a persistence predator.

[harunayuuka2060]

MC (?): Here are your keys. Please remember to always lock your door and avoid leaving your room unlocked.

Kalim: ...

Kalim: MC? How are you feeling?

MC (?): ...

MC (?): I hope everyone has a good rest. I’ll see you all tomorrow. *turns around and left*

Kalim: ...

Vil: Kalim, it's best not to get overly friendly with Potato's doppelganger.

Kalim: But... They tried to warn us...

Riddle: I would have to agree with Kalim here. While I don’t fully trust them, it’s still better to have someone we can gather information from.

Azul: That is... if they're not being restricted.

Malleus, Leona, and Idia: ...

Idia: By the way, aren’t we all staying in the same room? Why does everyone need a key?

Leona: I know.

Malleus: The doppelgangers... they aren’t carrying any keys.

Leona: These keys serve as our identification.

Leona: So you better not lose it.

Vil: You should tell that yourself, Leona.

Leona: Hmph.

Malleus (?): Precious, you've disobeyed the order again.

MC (?): ...

MC (?): I’m allowed to... provide clues. It’s entirely up to our guests whether they understand them or not.

Malleus (?): *chuckles*

MC (?): ...

Malleus (?): Are you still hoping to leave this place?

MC (?): No. This is where I belong.

Malleus (?): *smiles in satisfaction* That's right. *hugs them gently*

Malleus (?): Everything that you hold dearly is here.

MC (?): But those people—

Malleus (?): They can leave, of course—after the hunt.

MC (?): ...

Malleus (?): *chuckles*

The dorm leaders: *none of them could sleep*

Leona: Grr... I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched from somewhere.

Vil: That shouldn't be a surprise.

Riddle: Azul, what are you doing?

Azul: Checking if the door is locked properly.

Idia: Azul, you're being paranoid.

Azul: We are in a dangerous place. What do you want me to do?

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Al Asim, are you still thinking about that person?

Kalim: They look so sad... I feel bad for them...

Malleus: ...

Malleus: You only feel that way because they bear the face of the child of man.

Kalim: ...

Jamil (?): What are you doing here?

MC (?): I'm here to ask for a favor.

Jamil (?): ...

Jamil (?): Aren't you getting tired?

MC (?): ...

MC (?): I've already given up, but I don't want any more people to experience the same thing.

Jamil (?): ...

Jamil (?): Do you think I possess the same kindness as you do?

MC (?): You helped me once.

Jamil (?): And it failed.

MC (?): ...

MC (?): Jamil, are you...

Jamil (?): Yes. I will be executed soon.

MC (?): ...

MC (?): I am sorry.

Jamil (?): Well, it's a blessing to me. I'm tired of this life.

MC (?): ...

Jamil (?): ...

Jamil (?): I dug a tunnel. None of the higher-ups know. You should look for it, but be extremely discreet.

MC (?): ...

MC (?): *smiles in gratitude* Thank you.

Jamil (?): ...

Jamil (?): So you can still smile... It's a pity you haven't lost it yet.

MC (?): *covers their mouth*

Jamil (?): ...

Jamil (?): You would've been lucky if you had never arrived at this place.

MC (?): ...

MC (?): ...

Kalim (?): *has killed Jamil (?) in front of them*

Kalim (?): Hm~? I thought Jamil was your precious friend. Was I wrong?

MC (?): *stares blankly*

Kalim (?): *giggles* This is a bit disappointing. I wanted to see you cry.

MC (?): *bows their head* My apologies.

Riddle (?): You're bullying them again. Don't you get tired?

Kalim (?): Nope! And don't you try to act concerned, Riddle. You enjoyed their tears too.

Riddle (?): ...

Riddle (?): Yes, but now, they can't even shed a single tear.

MC (?): ...

Kalim (?): Ah, MC~ Clean this mess. *points at Jamil's (?) lifeless body*

MC (?): ...

Kalim (?): Answer.

MC (?): ...

MC (?): Yes.

[bytemee]

chapter four. | WHERE DO YOU SLEEP? — YU JIMIN.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — y/n, a rising music producer, has built her dream career while keeping her personal life under wraps. karina, aespa’s leader, is preparing for a huge comeback with a mini album produced and written by the one and only y/n.

karina knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and she has to nail it. the only problem is, she may be a bit distracted by her producer.

something about their connection feels different—like maybe it's worth the risk of prying eyes. but how much will they give up to chase after what they want?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — includes texts, kissy kissy, more suggestive jokes aha, tad angst idk?? and i think that's all.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 3k

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲— i would update this more often but i second guess my writing so much

taglist (open) — @sunshinez4 @gtfoiydlyj @yuyuy90 @liaponderstings @rinapomu

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next.

"ah, shit!" you mumble at your phone screen, a deep frown on your lips. it was already the afternoon; you had spent the morning rotting in your hotel bed since you were free of schedules for the day, but now you were in the car with your manager coming back from a quick shopping trip because you didn't have anything better to do.

"what happened?" your manager asks, leaning over to see what the problem was. he lets out a small chuckle, and you shoot him a look. "oh, no, that's not good," he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

you stare at him.

"it's not funny! i was so close to beating my high score!" subway surfers wasn't just a game to you; it was your life. your whole world revolves around getting that high score and having your name at the top of the global leaderboard. you were so close, too, but that train came out of nowhere and ended your run.

you let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back against the seat and crossing your arms over your chest. "i was so close," you mumble again, a pout on your lips. looking out the window, you watch the city pass by in a blur, the weather of seoul matching your mood—gloomy and overcast.

it was supposed to start raining soon.

your phone buzzes suddenly, and you look at the screen, your mood brightening a bit when you see the message.

a smile pulls at the corners of your lips.

tucking your phone away just as your manager glances over at you. you thin out your lips and stare the older man directly in the eyes, and he raises an eyebrow, but you quickly look away, whistling a tune to act nonchalant.

"you and karina are getting close, huh?" he says. you feel a blush creeping up your neck as you nod in response, trying to hide your smile. "she's just a friend," you say, hoping he doesn't notice the way your voice cracks slightly.

"just a friend, hm?"

"yeah," you lie, nodding once more.

there was a small pause of silence.

"i'm happy for you. i really am," he starts. here we go. the speech you've been dreading.

"but," he continues, because of course there's a but, "you've got to be careful. both of you are high-profile. you know how this industry is—fans, tabloids, all of it. the last thing you need is a dating rumor with karina."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat. "i know," you mumble.

"i mean it. her fans are..." he hesitates, searching for the right word. "passionate. and yours aren't exactly laid-back, either."

"yeah, i know," you repeat, this time a little more forcefully.

your manager lets out a long sigh. "look, i just don't want to see you get hurt again."

that makes you pause. you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. he's right—your fans and jimin's aren't exactly laid-back. you'd heard about the backlash from her last dating relationship, and you definitely don't want to go through that again with someone you've just begun seeing. it's a lot of pressure, but you know you have to be careful with how public you make your relationship. the last thing you want is for things to blow up in your face like they did with your last girlfriend.

you were 19, and it was the biggest mistake you've ever made. you were too young and naïve, and the relationship had crashed and burned within a few weeks. your fans didn't handle it well. it was all over the news, and even though the two of you tried to keep the relationship private, everyone had their eyes on you, and it was the most uncomfortable situation you'd ever been in.

comments like, "you deserve better," and, "she's not worthy of your time," filled the comment section of your social media, and it took awhile for the negative reactions to calm down. your fans are passionate, and while it can be overwhelming at times, you're so grateful for them. they've been by your side through thick and thin. you love them so much, and they care about you so much that it can sometimes be overbearing.

regardless of all that, you and your ex are still friends to this day, and you've managed to keep things cordial despite everything that happened. she understood the pressure you were under, and there was no bad blood when you decided to end things. it was a mutual decision—one made out of necessity rather than a lack of feelings. but the aftermath was something you never wanted to experience again.

"yeah, i get it," you murmur, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. "i'll be careful. i promise."

your manager gives you a knowing look, his expression softening. "i know you will. i just... i see how happy you look these days. i don't want anything to ruin that for you."

you nod, appreciating his concern. he's been with you since the start of your career and knows you better than most people. he's seen the highs and lows, and he's always been there to guide you through it.

things with jimin already feel so different—easier, more natural. but with her being who she is and you being who you are, there's no denying that the stakes are high. it would be foolish not to acknowledge that, and you're not one to jump into things headfirst without thinking about the consequences.

you're not 19 anymore.

your phone buzzes again, pulling you out of your thoughts. it's another message from her.

"do you mind picking me up from my dorm?"

"not at all. i can be there in an hour or so."

"sounds good. can't wait."

"hurry, hurry!" you usher at jimin, holding your hands above her head in an attempt to shield her from the pouring rain. she laughs, ducking underneath your makeshift umbrella of hands, and the two of you sprint towards your driver's parked car just a few feet away.

"you know this isn't really helping, right?" she teases, but she's still smiling, her eyes shining with amusement as the rain pelts her hair and clothes.

"it's the thought that counts!" you fire back, grinning as you reach the car. the door swings open, and the two of you clamber inside, panting. your driver glances at you through the rearview mirror before turning on the heat full blast, trying to help the two of you dry off.

"you're a terrible umbrella," she quips, pushing a few wet strands of hair out of her face.

"you're so cruel, jimin." you feign hurt, leaning your head against her shoulder as the car begins to move, the sound of the windshield wipers providing a comfortable background noise. with no hesitation, jimin's head rests on top of yours, her cheek pressing against the dampness of your hair.

"i'm joking," she reassures, gently resting her hand on top of yours, which was lying against her thigh, your pinkie drawing small circles on her leg. "do you think your grandma will like me?"

you smile at her question, taking in a deep breath before responding, "yeah, she's excited to meet you."

"really?"

"of course. i told them you're the one behind all my sleepless nights lately," you joke, earning a slap on the arm from the older woman.

"ouch," you say, rubbing your arm, but you're laughing.

jimin scoffs, shaking her head.

your grandma greeted the two of you with a warm smile and open arms, along with kimchi-jjigae, banchan, and freshly steamed rice already laid out on the table. the smell wafted through the house, making your stomach growl in anticipation.

"ah, you're here!" she exclaimed, hugging you and then moving on to hug a shy and timid-looking jimin. "and this must be your friend. so beautiful!"

jimin bowed respectfully, a warm smile on her lips. "thank you for having me." your grandma chuckled, patting jimin's hands. "such a polite girl. come, come. sit down before the food gets cold."

the two of you settled down at the table, and your grandma sat across from the two of you, watching you with a fond smile. you began eating, chatting, and laughing as the three of you ate together. your grandma was a great cook, and the meal was delicious, and it wasn't long before a big book was set in front of the both of you, photos sticking out of every page.

your grandma began flipping through the album, showing off old photos of you as a kid. the first few were okay—embarrassing, yes, but tolerable.

then she landed on a particular photo, and you froze.

it was a picture of you when you were about eight years old. you were dressed up in a little yellow dress, your hair in two braids, and a pair of bunny ears sitting atop your head.

you had forgotten about the bunny ears.

"oh, my god," you mumbled, burying your face in your hands, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of red.

"is... that you?" jimin asked, pointing at the photo, her eyes wide with amusement as her jaw dropped. "yes, that's me," you grumbled, your voice muffled through your hands. you dared to peek through your fingers and immediately regretted it. jimin was practically bouncing in her seat, a grin plastered across her face as she leaned closer to the photo.

"what a cute girl! i remember this outfit." your grandma said, a huge grin on her face. "it was from the school festival. she wanted to dress up like a bunny—" jimin eagerly nodded, her gaze moving back and forth between the book and your grandmother.

"that's so cute," she said, laughing, and your grandma nodded.

your grandma turned the page in the album, her laugh bubbling up again as another photo caught her attention. "oh, look at this one," she said, pointing to a picture of you as a toddler, sitting in a high chair with your face completely smeared with what looked like chocolate cake.

jimin leaned forward, a wide smile on her face.

"look at her little cheeks," she gushed, pointing to your puffed-out baby cheeks in the photo.

"please, please, please. no more. i'm begging you."

neither of them looked up.

"wait, wait," jimin said, pointing at another photo. "is that flour? oh my, she's covered head to toe!"

your grandma burst out laughing, tapping the photo with her finger. "yes! she wanted to help me bake cookies, but she ended up making more of a mess than anything else. look at her face—completely indignant."

a small pout formed on your face as you crossed your arms. they seemed to be in their own little world, completely forgetting about your presence in the room. the pout leaves your face, replaced by a smile when you realize how happy she was making your grandmother—how happy they were making each other.

watching the two of them bonding warmed your heart. they seemed to hit it off immediately, and it was obvious that they were getting along. you clasped your hands together, resting your chin on top as you watched them. in this moment, you didn't mind being forgotten. seeing jimin this comfortable, sharing laughter and memories with one of the most important people in your life, felt like its own kind of magic.

it felt so domestic, and you found yourself wanting more moments like this, wanting to see her smiling and laughing with your family, to hear stories of your childhood, to watch her bond with those closest to you.

you wanted more, and the realization sent a wave of emotion washing over you.

but it also brought with it a feeling of fear.

after all, you're human. you've tasted what happens when you give too much of yourself, when you let someone in and the world takes notice. you didn't know how far this thing with her would go, but if history was any indication, the odds weren't exactly in your favor. you cared for her deeply, and you knew that if that time came, ending things wouldn't be easy, not by a long shot.

this wasn't just about you anymore. jimin had her own career, which involved other people you also care about, and if the two of you were caught, if the relationship was discovered, the repercussions would be massive.

could you handle being responsible for that? could she?

jimin glanced up at you, catching your gaze. a slow smile crept onto her lips, and her eyes crinkled at the corners. just for a moment, just for now, you pushed the worries out of your mind.

and instead, you just smiled back.

the photo album neared its end; your grandma let out a satisfied sigh, gently closing the book. "ah, so many memories. i'm glad i got to share them with such a lovely guest." she patted jimin's hand, who blushed at the praise.

your grandma stood from the table, collecting the photo album and placing it back on the shelf. "you two should take some time to relax. y/n, why don't you show her your old room?"

you nodded, pushing back your chair as jimin followed your lead. you led her down the hallway, pointing out old family photos along the way. opening the door to your childhood room, you watched as jimin's eyes lit up, a wide smile spreading across her face.

the walls were a pale blue color, with white trim and a small window that looked out onto the garden. there was a twin-size bed, covered with a floral-patterned quilt, and a dresser topped with a few knickknacks.

jimin walked around the room, examining the shelves lined with trophies, ribbons, and other awards from various music competitions you'd won when you were a kid. there were also pictures of you with various teachers, a few framed magazine clippings, and some old concert tickets displayed proudly on the walls.

you watched her from your bed, leaning back on your elbows as she explored. "your room is so nice," she said, running her fingers along the spines of some books on a shelf.

"yeah?" you replied, and she nodded, glancing over her shoulder at you.

"it's cute. like you."

you turned away muttering something under your breath, and she laughed, plopping down next to you on the bed. her hand reached behind you, grabbing a stuffed animal off the shelf and holding it up to your face.

"what's this?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

in an instant, you lunged for it, but she was too fast, pulling it out of your reach with a laugh. you narrowed your eyes at her, trying again, and again, you failed.

"what's his name?" she asked, her voice playful as she held the stuffed animal behind her back of her stretched body, just out of your grasp.

"mr. flopsy, okay? now give him back!" you exclaimed, making a third attempt to grab the stuffed animal, which she once again moved out of your reach.

"fine," you muttered, a sly grin creeping onto your face. you feigned giving up, and as soon as her hand fell, you struck. grabbing mr. flopsy and putting him behind your back before laying down on top of the brown stuffed bear, letting out a victorious laugh.

"you're suffocating him!" jimin yelled, crawling on the bed toward you, trying to save mr. flopsy from his untimely demise.

"he's fine," you retorted, rolling your eyes at jimin's dramatics. "i raised him to be tough and resilient, just like me."

"no, he's not," she said, climbing on top of you, her legs on either side of your body, reaching for mr. flopsy. she couldn't even reach him. her fingers barely scraped the fabric; instead, it felt like she was trying to tickle you, and that only made you lean deeper against the bed, laughing even harder.

noticing your giggles, she gave up on reaching for mr. flopsy and started tickling you relentlessly, her fingers digging into your sides. you squirmed, kicking your legs in the air, trying to escape her playful assault.

"stop, stop!" you managed to gasp between laughs, but she only laughed along with you, not stopping. "what?" she teased, and you squealed, grabbing her hands and intertwining your fingers with hers to stop the tickling.

both of you were gasping for air, and you stared at each other, eyes watering and chests heaving. the laughter slowly died down, and then it was just the two of you, alone in the quiet.

a beat passed.

her gaze softened as she looked down at you, her smile fading into something more tender. you blinked up at her, not sure what to say, not sure what to do, feeling like your brain had short-circuited.

then, she leaned closer, the space between you disappearing inch by inch. her nose brushed yours, and your breath hitched, sharp and unsteady. you caught the flicker of her tongue as she wet her lips, her eyes never leaving yours.

and then, her lips met yours. at first, it was gentle, almost hesitant. her hands stayed tangled with yours, her grip tightening slightly, and you pressed back, your head tilting slightly to the right, your mouth opening wider, the kiss becoming less innocent.

her soft sigh mingled with yours as the kiss deepened, her tongue sliding against yours, warm and wet. you let go of her hands, moving an arm to wrap around her frame as she leaned into you, arms circling your neck and her body molding against yours.

it was intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting more.

you were dragging yourself into a hole you might not be able to dig out of, and yet, you didn't care. the risks, the potential consequences, the worry—the worry—you were telling yourself that none of it mattered because you were willing to take the risk. you were willing to put your heart on the line, your career, your reputation, everything.

you were willing to do it all for her.

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next.

a/n: no they did not get freaky.

[galedekarios]

gale's early access dialogue transcripts - first meeting/character introduction

while going through my metas on gale's early access scenes and dialogues that were largely cut (deer stew scene, loss scene, various dialogues reacting to the game's world and events, tiefling party romance path, etc etc etc), i realised i never talked about how very different his introduction was in early access in comparison to how it is now.

i'll focus on the early access version of the first meeting with gale and his character introduction in this post with a short general comparison between the two scenes (early access vs full release), dialogue transcript of the early access scene, and a video of the early access recruitment of gale.

general

in the full release version of the game, the player isn't introduced to gale right away. you approach a malfunctioning netherese rune, out of which a hand appears. from there, you can either decide to rescue gale from the predicament that he found himself in while trying to save himself from the crashing nautiloid, or leave him to his fate. he is very much a "damsel in distress" in this moment, largely relying either on the protag's curiosity or their good will.

in early access, it was very different:

as soon as you approached the rune, a cutscene would trigger where gale would step out of the netherese teleportation rune as if he transported from one rune to another, which he then explains as much if the protag would ask him about it. he was in no need to be rescued, seemingly already exploring before the protag woke up at the beach, perhaps less impaired by the crash than they were.

transcript

(Protag approaches Netherese Teleportation Rune, Gale steps out of the Netherese Teleportation Rune) Gale: You're alive. That's unexpected. Last I saw you, you were laying in a crucible's worth of blood, an intellect devourer nibbling at your ear. Glad to see my eyes deceived me. I'm Gale. Well met!

Protag - Option 1: Well met. You were on the ship as well, I presume? Gale: The very same. A traumatising experience – if an instructive one. - Protag - Option 2: Where did you appear from? Gale: See that rune? Netherese, I think. Weave's so thick on it, it's almost viscous. I had a taste and just like that – swept from one rune to the next. - Protag - Option 3: You don't trust him. Draw your weapon.  Gale: Ooh – easy does it, lass/lad. You really, really don't want to do that. Not a threat, just an observation.

Gale: Besides, we just survived a stint through Hell on a nautiloid. Statistically speaking we’re anomalies on par with a convivial aboleth. - Protag - Option 1:  (Sheath your weapon.) Gale: Reason answered by reason! Say – are you perchance a wizard? To be more precise; an archwizard. - Protag - Option 2: And why would I really, really not want to attack you? Gale: We'll get to that. I have a much pressing question first: are you perchance a wizard? To be more precise; an archwizard. - Protag - Option 3: (Attack.)  Gale: Dear me. Lets hope I win – bound to be innocents around. (Ends conversation, begins combat)

-

Protag - Option 1: Well met. You were on the ship as well, I presume? Gale: The very same. A traumatising experience – if an instructive one. - Protag - Option 2: By trauma I suppose you mean the thing they put in my eye? Gale: Yes. The ocular penetration by an illithid tadpole which will end with our souls being snuffed like strands of Weave caught in Dead Magic.  - Protag - Option 2: Instructive? What makes you say that? Gale: Nautiloids are incredibly rare vessels: a mind flayer colony's most guarded secret – and a gith pack’s greatest prize.  - Protag - Option 3: I'm not quite in the mood for flippant answers. Gale: Suit yourself – I merely sought to share the wonder of the experience. Nautiloids are incredibly rare vessels: a mind flayer colony's most guarded secret – and a gith pack's greatest prize. 

-

Gale: Not to mention... You're staring at me like a Rashemi at a blackboard. You're no wizard, are you? - Protag - Option 1: No, I'’'m no wizard. Gale: Pity. But that will have to wait.  - Protag - Option 2: Why do you ask? Gale: Because I need one. But it will have to wait.  - Protag - Option 3: I don't take kindly to insults Gale: Thin-skinned – and a dodger of questions. Usually means the answer's no. Guess that will have to wait. - Protag - Option 4: (Warlock/Wizard/Sorcerer): I'm better than a wizard; I'm a warlock /  I'm a wizard. / I'm a sorcerer. Gale: There’s a gust of Weave about you, but it's a mere breeze. I need a tempest. But it will have to wait.  - Protag - Option 5: If there is one thing I don't care for, it's bloody wizards. Gale: Ouch.  Guess that will have to wait. 

-

Gale: The primary need now is a healer. I take it you recall the insertion of the parasite? - Protag - Option 1: I recall it, yes. Vividly. Gale: Then you know what happens next. It is to be avoided.  - Protag - Option 2: That could have all been an illusion. A bad dream. Gale: [If Protag is a Gith] A common Githyanki nightmare no doubt, but I assure you what happened to us was quite real. - Protag - Option 3: That's my business, not yours. Gale: Gotcha. Private. Nothing to do with me. Aaand yet… you know what happens next. It is to be avoided. 

-

Gale: I assume you are no accomplished healer either? A powerful cleric maybe? - Protag - Option 1:  Can't say that I am. Gale: Then we will have to find one – and fast. You and I are in a whole lot of trouble. We need help and I’m not sure where we'll find it in this wilderness. - Protag - Option 2: Why can't you just use magic? Gale: Sadly my studies of the arcane are on hold for the foreseeable future. This is beyond me. For now. - Protag - Option 3: Look, is this a conversation or an interrogation? Gale: Just trying to figure out where we stand. Conclusion nowhere. You and I are in a whole lot of trouble. We need help and I’m not sure where we'll find it in this wilderness.

-

Gale: How about we embark on the quest for a healer together? - Protag - Option 1:  Yes, I'd like you to join me. Gale: Most excellent! Now without further ado, lets be off! (Gale joins the party) - Protag - Option 2:  No, thank you. I’m not looking for another travelling companion. Gale: Are you certain? A wizard is a mighty weapon to have in your arsenal. - Protag - Refusal:  I'm certain. Gale: You're quite significant loss. (Gale doesn't join the party, stays by the teleportation rune)

-

(If party is already full) Gale: And I'm flattered , I'm sure – but it seems you're travelling with a substantial amount of companions already. Maybe later, yes? 

-

(Protag returns to Gale after first meeting & not recruiting him) Gale: Changed your mind? I'm still happy to join you if you'll have me. Shall we? Protag - Refusal: Decline. Gale: You've grown none the wiser, I see.  - Protag - Accept: Accept.  Gale: Most excellent! Then without further ado, lets be off! Here's hoping we come across a powerful healer and a powerful wizard both. 

video comparing both scenes

i hope this was interesting to someone and as always i appreciate your support!

taglist:

@chainsawmascara, @randomfanner, @tacogoats, @khajiit-necromancer, @gwinharper,

@galesenchantedpanties, @swampfaerie, @ardently-queer, @nirraein, @gale-enjoyer,

@xiv-wolfram, @kairoswouldnever, @a-psychopathic-dream, @toboldlydammitjim, @vcxahlia,

@fitzmagus

i thought i'd tag the people i'd seen taking an interest in my original post! if you want to be taken off the taglist, or added, please let me know!

[genderqueerdykes]

(for context I'm genderfluid FtM) I've gotten to the point where I'm so tired of the whole "I HATE ALL MEN 💫but not you your my bewst fwiend🥺💕" bullshit that as soon as any of the people I know (I refuse to call them friends) starts going off I ask why they hate me and then watch as they crumble try to cling onto the 'all men but not you!!' without outing the fact that they're outright transphobic and don't view me as a man or masculine figure

thanks for taking the time to send this, i really appreciate it. your story deserves to be heard

i absolutely cannot stand this behavior. i cannot stand when people say "kill all men" "I hate men" "men should die" "all men need to transition into women" and then have a man in their life and go "except you, you're one of the Good Ones!! we don't mean YOU when we say these things DUH you should just KNOW that!!!! we're your '''''friends''''' we'd never say that about you!"

like no, actually, that doesn't make me feel comforted or feel good at all. i don't want to be viewed as a "special" man who's "different" from other men. i'm not inherently better than other men. but you're right, it's painfully obvious that people who say things like that and then look at the trans men in their lives and go "i didn't mean YOU!!!!!!!! you're so soft and defenseless and sweet you could never hurt a fly uwu" and make it painfully obvious that they view us as women. if people find out you have a vagina they'll go "oh you're Safe don't worry you're not like Those men uwu" and it's. yeah.

this behavior has gotta go. this is not making your transmasc friends feel better. we do not like that you are openly hating the rest of our siblings and saying they should die. no we're not "special" men. we do not like being seen as a separate kind of man from cis men. we do not want to be considered "the good ones" when that involves throwing literally every other man and masc under the bus. this shit isn't flattering, it's just making it glaringly apparent that you don't view us as men.

thanks for taking the time to stop by, i hope people stop this shit because all it does is alienate us. i'm glad you don't call them friends anymore. that's not what friends do.

[dsireland86]

Can i request a Noah Sebastian x fem reader fic? I was thinking maybe she reader is a good friend of the Bad Omens crew and she wants to give Noah a special gift while on tour since he's been so burnt out and Maybe it's set a little after Keaton Pierce passed away and he hasn't really had time to grieve and gifts him a Photo of him and Keaton with a note written by him on the back of it maybe? and he gets emotional and they confess feelings?

Oh man.... this hits hard. Okay, I think I can do this. 💔🖤 I've never written anything regarding Keaton or his passing. I've kind always felt scared to. But when this request hit my inbox, it made me realize that maybe I've never given myself the proper time to mourn his loss. It will be 3 years he's been gone, and yet every time I listen to Too Close Too Touch, it feels like he's still here. I still miss Keaton every day. Writing this story has been healing. Thank you to the Anonymous who's asked me to write something so beautiful. I hope I can capture the emotion of what Keaton really meant to us all.

*Author's Note: I waited on posting this story, given the fact that none of this story is factual, but it involves something that's really personal to not just me, but to others, I'm sure. In no way shape or form is this story meant to disrespect Keaton or his death. It is just something I thought about when thinking of how it affected Noah. I know, it's silly. But for someone like me who didn't know Keaton personally and was affected by his death, I can't imagine what his friends and family felt. Again, this is just a fictional story based on actual people. If you're offended by the idea, then please don't read it, not just for me, but also for the Anon. who requested the story.*

Her Special Gift

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @an0mallly  @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

The months that followed Keaton's death become different. After Keaton's funeral, things between Noah and I shifted from being just casual friends to almost like best friends. We started hanging out together more and playing video games, watching old black and white movies, or diving into sometimes deep, theological discussions that always ended with an argument about who was right. Late night pizza and anime dates and tea and book lazy days started to become a habit for us when he wasn't working with the band, and I grew to love them more than I ever thought I would. It seemed that Noah and I had traded our friendship with Keaton for a friendship with each other. We became part of the healing process for each other, sharing stories and memories that only we knew. Spending time with Noah was the best. He was the best, but the way I started to feel about him was getting harder for me to deny and I knew if I ever confessed anything regarding the way I felt, it would ruin everything Noah and I had built in the last few months.

"You feeling okay?" Noah's hand on my shoulder startled me. I was sluggishly slow today, exhausted from the last two nights of the tour. "Yeah, I'm good. Just tired. Still trying to adapt," I chuckled. Noah smiled, taking the box of shirts from me. "I'll help." "Thanks," I said, returning his smile. We sat the boxes down on the table, and I turned to head back to the truck and get one more when Noah gently grabbed me by the arm. "Hey, wait." I looked up at his tall frame, a little alarmed. His chocolatey brown eyes softened. "Are you sure you're okay? You're usually not so puffy around the eyes like you are today." "Oh what, you're keeping up with my skin care routine now?" I was joking, but Noah seemed more serious about it than I was. "Have you been crying?' Noah turned me towards him a little so he could examine my face better. What was I supposed to tell him? That the truth was I really had been crying myself to sleep the last two nights because I'd found a photo of him and Keaton together? Yeah, no. I pushed Noah's hand away gently, reassuring him I was okay. Walking back to the truck, I broke down, sneaking around a corner to quietly sob alone.

Three weeks into the tour, everyone seemed to be doing alright; tired and sore, but okay. I was feeling better, too, but Noah wasn't. He was looking a little worse for wear. If there weren't puffy bags under his eye, then there were dark purple circles under them, painting the clear picture of pure, straight-up exhaustion. Noah was burning out.

"Matt, he needs a day off. He needs to rest. I mean, look at him for god's sake," I cried quietly, throwing my hands in Noah's direction. He was sitting on one of the equipment boxes, leaning back against the wall, his head laid back, arms folded across his chest and eyes closed. He looked as if he was actually asleep.

"Fuck. I know he does," Matt sighed. But we have a show to do tonight, and one tomorrow." "Matt, " I said, shaking my head, "I don't think Noah's going to last one more show. Tonight, maybe, but tomorrow," I glanced over at Noah just as his head fell to the side, catching himself quickly and sitting up right only to close his eyes again. "Fuck!" Matt yelled. "Alright, let me see what I can do about tomorrow. Do you think you could pep talk him into doing tonight's show?" Noah sat up and stretched, yawning and beckoning me over to him. "Yeah, okay, I'll try, but don't get pissy with me if Noah refuses," I demanded with a finger pointed at his chest. Matt chuckled. "Deal. Hey, thanks." I shot him a quick grin before walking over to Noah.

He reached for me before I was even close, which wasn't really like him at all. But I gave in, letting him pull me in between his legs and hug me. Noah's body was so warm despite the white tank he wore, showing off so many of his colorful tattoos. I thought about the stories I knew of some of them, and wondered about the others, tracing them as they wrapped and curled over his bicep and towards his back. I felt him hum in approval of my touch, the vibration coming from deep in his chest as he softly laid his head in the nook between my neck and shoulder. I caressed his back, guiding my hands slowly up and down, and feeling him relax against me. "Feel good?" "Mmm," he mumbled his answer. Noah's arms dropped, falling to his sides. His fingers, so long and slender, gripped my leggings, pulling me closer. "Noah," I whispered, unsure of what to say or do. "Yeah?" "What are you doing? People are looking at us." I spoke softly into his chest, scared to look around. "Only Matt." I looked up, glancing behind me, seeing that he was right. "Does me holding you like this make you feel uncomfortable?" I focused my sight back on Noah, my eyes clicking back and forth over his face. "No," I answered honestly. The small smile that lifted the corners of Noah's mouth made my heart skip a few beats.

"You look really tired." Noah nodded while locking his hand together behind my back, allowing me to rest mine on his chest. The faint smell of his deodorant mixed with the lingering scent of his cologne swept over my nostrils caused me to breathe in deep. Noah smelled fresh and clean even though he hadn't showered since the night before. "I'm pretty exhausted. I didn't sleep right last night." "Why not?" Noah sighed letting me partially go to fun a hand through his hair. "Noah, what's wrong, what is it?" I tipped my head, straining to make eye contact with him.

Finally, I turned his head to look at me. "Talk to me. I'm here." A vacant stare suddenly took over Noah's face, as if he were reminiscing something. "I had a dream," he admitted, quietly, "about Keaton." His almond shaped eyes shifted to mine and the pain that engulfed them was overwhelming, shattering my heart.

"Noah, I'm," "Don't," he sighed heavily, shaking his head slightly. "You don't have to say you're sorry or anything like that. I think it's a sign, like maybe Keaton himself is trying to tell me something." "What do you mean?" I wasn't following as easily as I thought I should be. "I never gave myself time to grieve for him. I mean, it all happened so fast, I barely remember everything." "Like what? I was there for pretty much all of it." Noah smiled, running his finger down my cheek. "Yeah, you were, weren't you? My little moon; always follows me even when there's light." I shrugged. "That's what friends do, right?" Noah cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"Friends?" "Yeah," I replied, my heart thundering against my chest. "We're friends, right? I mean at least we were five seconds ago." Noah reassured me with a smile, pulling me against his chest. "Yeah, little moon, we're still friends." "Is that your new name for me now? Little moon?" "Why? You don't like it?" "No, love it," I replied with the hint of a smile in my voice. Noah didn't say anything, only squeezed me tighter.

"What was your dream about?" There was a long pause. "A mix of random stuff, but it all had Keaton in it." More silence. "I wish he was still here. I fucking miss him so damn much that it hurts." The pain in Noah's voice hurt. I looked up to find him squeezing his eyes closed, finger and thumb locked in them "Come with me," I said, taking his hand and pulling him out with me to the bus. "What are we doing?" "You'll see."

We climbed in, throwing out mumbled greetings to Nicholas and Folio who were eating bags of chips and talking, laughing hysterically after one would say something to the other. I rolled my eyes, grinning from knowing why.

I got to the bunks and stopped. "What's this about?" Noah asked, a bit annoyed. "I have something for you that I found recently; something I was meant to give you a long time ago, but apparently completely forgot about." "Okayyyy, what?" I stared at Noah for a moment, wondering if this really was the right time to do this and as brief memories of him and Keaton flashed through my brain, I was reassured.

Bending down into my duffle bag, I grabbed the book that had the picture in it, and handed it to Noah. The moment Noah saw it, his eyes welled up with tears.

"Read the back; alone," I told him, knowing it was going to gut him. He didn't argue. He just turned and walked off into the tiny bathroom and closed the door.

I heard the faint clicking sound of the lock turning and took a deep breath, hoping to prepare myself for what came next.

When Folio and Nicholas eventually left, I seized the opportunity to sit and wait for Noah. There was no way I was leaving without knowing Noah was okay. And then I heard it. The low, almost inaudible sound of weeping.

My heart hit the bottom of my stomach. Noah was finally letting out all the pent-up sadness, pain, and hurt for his friend he'd silently been carrying all these months. I waited a moment before going over to the bathroom door. I quietly knocked. "Noah... I'm here," was all I could say. "He's gone. Keaton's really gone, and there's nothing I can do to bring him back," Noah said through gritted teeth and tears. "Why? I don't understand! Why him!"

"Why anyone? Why is death even a thing," I said gently. There was silence on the other side of the door. "Keaton had a great life. He was in love with life. He loved taking pictures and performing. He loved his fans and followers of the band, always making it a point to tell them on his Instagram." "Yeah, that joker loved posting stuff on there, didn't he," Noah chuckled through a stuffy nose. "I went through it, and it's what reminded me of the picture you're holding in your hands. I'd completely forgotten about it until packing and I picked up my touring book and that picture fell out. I'm so sorry I forgot, Noah. I really meant to give it to you sooner." "Maybe that was meant to happen because the universe knew his death was coming." The idea gave me chills.

There was more silence. "I fucking miss him. I miss my friend." "I know you do. Me, too."

The bathroom door finally opened, and Noah appeared with cheeks stained with tears and puffy eyes. I looked up at him as he looked down at me, tendrils of his recently cut short hair falling over his eyes. He reached down for me, taking my hands and pulling to my feet, sliding his arms around my waist as he did so. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face against him so he couldn't see my own tears. My lips grazed the colorful skin of his neck, so I took advantage and lightly kissed it, and I could hear the slight gasp he made as he barely lifted me off the ground.

"I wouldn't have gotten through any of this without you, Little Moon," Noah muttered into my hair. I climbed him like a tree and wrapped myself around his slender yet strong frame as his large hands slid over my bottom, squeezing it as he held me up. With our faces so close, I could feel Noah's warm breath cascade over my face. His lips were so close to mine.

He walked us toward the back of the bus, closing the sliding door to the back lounge as we entered, sitting me down on the closest table. He pushed my legs apart, respectfully putting himself between them, and just stared at me. Noah was one of my closest friends. He'd seen me through some of my worst moments, made me feel beautiful even when I didn't feel it, and stayed up with me when I used to have nightly anxiety attacks. Yet, here I was feeling so insecure, so out of his league that I was blushing.

"Tell me we're gonna get through this together," Noah said, taking my face in his hands. I rested my forehead against his chest. "Of course we are, Noah, I'm not going anywhere." He lifted my face. "I don't mean as friends." I could hardly bring myself to look into his eyes. "You don't?" I asked barely above a whisper. Noah shook his head. His thumbs glided along my cheekbones. "Look at me." I dragged my eyes up only to see the sincerity in his eyes. "I mean as an "us". I don't think I can be just friends with you anymore, and just the idea of your perfect heart belonging to another guy terrifies me." A small laugh escaped me, and Noah grinned. "What? It's true. I don't want to be jealous, but I am."

I gave Noah a half smile. "I wouldn't call it jealousy, but more like selfish." "Selfish?" "Yeah, you demand my attention almost every time we're together. And when you see me talking with," actually the more I thought about it, Noah only got that way when another guy was involved. "With another guy," "yeah," I huffed a laugh. "Well, I guess I'm a little of both." "Since when?" Noah's eyes darted between mine. He brushed some loose hair out of my face and kissed my forehead. "Since the moment I trusted you with parts of myself I'm afraid to show anyone else." "And how long has that been?" Noah's lips were almost touching mine. I wanted this, wanted him to kiss me so I could kiss him back. "Always." I forgot to breathe the moment he bent his neck, and brought our faces closer together. A wave of heat, unlike one I'd ever felt before, crashed through me. Noah's arms wrapped around me, and he drew me into a kiss I never thought we'd share. His tongue pushed into mouth slowly yet needy as his large hands slid lazily up my spine. I gave into him completely, feeling every ounce of love pour from his kiss.

My fingers trailed up his chest until I cupped his jaw between my hands, feeling the slight hum of approval vibrate deep inside his chest. I felt like everything about Noah was going to consume me, and I was entirely okay with that. We finally broke apart, pulling our magic back into ourselves as we tried to catch our breath. "You're going to be the death of me," he growled against my cheek, leaving a slight wet kiss on my cheek. I pushed against his chest just enough to look at him. "Not if you destroy me first," I breathed, painting the lines of his jaw with my fingertips. "I never want you to stop looking at me the way you are right now. And if you do, I swear I won't stop making it up to you until your legs are shaking and the neighbors know my name."

I about died in Noah's arms right then. He pulled me into another deep kiss, touching me without any hesitation. He touched me like he owned me. I guess he had for a long time, and I just never realized it. I trusted Noah with my heart, knowing he'd take care of it forever. "So, does this mean there's an us?" I smiled, taking a deep breath while wrapped up safe in Noah's arms. "Yeah it does. I like the sound of "us". "Me too, I guess we have Keaton to thank for it." "Yeah, I guess so," getting lost in a memory of him. He'd be happy; for both of us. "I miss him, Noah. But even now, I can still feel him around." "Me, too," Noah sighed, laying his cheek on the top of my head. "Me, too."

[tootoomanycats]

The Plan

Chapter One: Best Laid Plans...

Pairing:

Gil-Galad x Human Reader Fem

Word Count: 6,415 words

If you prefer to read on AO3 its HERE

Summary: (SET IN THE RINGS OF POWER TV SERIES) (Takes place years before the first episode) As time settles the world’s chaos, Gil-Galad begins to feel an unusual boredom. After centuries of war, his days are now filled with mundane paperwork, the ink on the parchment mocking him with its monotony. When he receives a letter from Master Boat Builder Cirdan, asking for aid for a small group of humans whose ship has sunk, Gil-Galad agrees, recognizing his duty to help. Upon meeting the High King, you are caught off guard by an unexpected attraction. With your ship at the bottom of the bay, you aim to use your charm to secure a new vessel for yourself and your crew. However, as days go by, Gil-Galad's genuine compassion and kindness complicate things. The initial plan to flirt and deceive begins to clash with the genuine emotions that develop. You find yourself torn between the charming facade and emerging feelings for the High King. As the truth looms closer, the question remains—how will Gil-Galad react when he learns the real reason behind your visit?

Warnings:

Mentions of fire

Descriptions of injuries

Descriptions of partial nudity

Reader is not a holy good person.

Two ideots pining and refusing to acknowledge it.

Not Beta Read

(smut stuff will be in chapter two, promise)

Author Notes:

Hello Everyone!

It’s finally here! Thank you for being so patient while I finally got this done and posted. In my overeagerness, I was hoping to get this finished on New Year’s Day, but sadly, life and depression got a hold of me. I have entirely rewritten this chapter and how it plays out over four times. This time, I finally had to reel my worry that this wasn't good enough and just be okay with where it was. Please note that I'm writing this without sitting to very strict guidelines of what elves are commonly like in the book. I am writing Gil-Galad and Elves with the idea that history books and lore always paint figureheads and royalty as if they lived by strict morals and values. And I think it's much more interesting if we see what Gil-Galad would have experienced if he had fallen in love, and it, in the end, was kept secret from history. You'll notice that Elrond isn't going to be in this; that is because at the same time this story is going on- I have a one-shot of what Elrond is doing elsewhere. I am working on it, but I have no set date for finishing it as of right now. As always if you like what you have read please remember that fanfic writers live off of likes, comments and reblogs- we wont admit it but we all have praise kinks. Have you fed your starving artist today?

Tea.

Every night since his arrival in Grey Havens, the Master Boat Builder has made a point to enjoy a cup of tea before heading off to bed. Be it rain, snow, or shine, that cup of tea will always be had.

The weather was sublime this evening: cool temperatures, clear skies, and a calm breeze. Weather being what it is, he opened the workshop’s doors to watch as the sun’s last glow gave way to darkness.

Once the last sip was finished, he reached for the large doors to close them for the night. But as he pulled the last one, a shimmer of light in the water caught his attention; its reflection was unusually bright.

Leaning out the side, hand gripping the door handle for balance, he gasped in shock at finding the source. Just a few leagues away was a double-masted ship- inflamed.

Its bow was raised dramatically into the cool night air, exposing an accumulation of maritime fauna. The vessels aft dragged along the sea bed, echoing whenever it hit high points of rocks. What wood was visible was already ashes or becoming the next fuel source for the inferno. Screams and bodies jumping into the river could be heard above all else.

Running out of the boat house, Cirdan reached the town’s warning bell. Its massive size was stuck from disuse and rust. He kicked hard and kept kicking until his ankle and foot burned in protest, until finally, it groaned in movement. The piercing sound of the tocsin woke and alerted those who lived nearby as he shouted, “FIRE!”

It became chaos as orders were given, supplies packed, and horses mounted. The few elves who could, followed the older one, sprinting to offer aid to the tragedy’s survivors.

——

Wet, freezing, and homeless.

The strength it had taken to carry your first mate from the ship’s bowls to the deck had caused more than one muscle to pull. Short as he is, the man is surprisingly heavy.

Unfortunately, jumping from a burning ship was more manageable than carrying him to shore. As the line of buoyancy and gravity met, a new struggle began as you started to stand halfway out of the water.

Heavy, wet clothes worked against frozen, numb limbs with each soaking step to dry land and out of its icy grip. Ankles almost twisting with each slippery step on the shore rocks before finally collapsing onto soft sand.

A small blessing was the man you had carried came too with only a few short chest compressions. You joined him on the sand once he could fully sit up and catch his breath.

What was left of the crew watched as the top of the crow’s nest disappeared, the bay groaning and gurgling in its consumption. The ship you and many others once called home had been swallowed into the water’s depths.

A hand gently pressed into your left shoulder, its callouses felt through the singed holes of your shirt—the contact causing you to look at the much shorter man. “I’m sorry, Captain. You did your best.”

The words meant well, but instead of commiserating, they reminded you that this was your failure. When the sensation of your throat tightening and eyes misting began, you shook your head. There would be no grieving until a new home was acquired.

Looking back at the shorter man, face composed and emotions pushed to the side. “Do we know where we’ve landed, Sal? I didn’t have time to look at the map; when I saw the opening, I thought it would be the only chance for our escape.”

Sal’s singular green eye widened before looking around the visible area, knowing he would be the only one of you to see in such darkness. “Not sure, we’ve never been this far north before.”

Not good.

Standing up, you internally shivered as the sensation of wet, sandy, cloth peeled from your damp, chilled skin. The only possessions left were on everyone’s backs, holes and all.

A strike of panic set in at that realization. Taking inventory, a hand reached up to count the baubles that adorned your earnings, relieved to feel all was accounted for. Looking down at the blistered and burned fingers, you grimaced at the thought of how bad the pain would be when removing the various roughly smithed rings. One of the bands looked almost embedded past the first few layers of skin, potentially touching bone.

Sal had followed in checking his personage for anything of value, even lifting his eye patch and ensuring that the smooth, unpolished diamond he kept was still hidden in the empty socket.

“We’re going to be stuck on land until a new home can be procured.” Turning, you saw the group huddled together for warmth, teeth chattering as they shivered.

“From here on out, it’s dry land rules and roles. We’re starting from nothing, so best behaviors until that changes.” At the nods given in response, you turned to your first mate. “We need to start a fire; we don’t need anyone dying of hypothermia-“ Everyone froze at a distinct sound.

Hoof-beats.

The sound rumbled further up into the tree line, accompanied by voices that called out, echoing into the fjord. Lanterns swayed and grew brighter with each moment the owners grew closer.

Head snapping back to the others, you whispered, “Remember the rules. No one speaks until I say so.” A groan caught your attention just before Sal almost lost his balance. “What's wrong? Why-“ Pulling your hand away from the back of his head, you felt the warmth just as you smelt its metallic scent.

Your hand was entirely coated in bright red blood from just that moment of contact; a quick glance back at the sand where he had first laid showed a small puddle where the ground's compression had helped to pause the bleeding, only momentarily. “Why didn't you say anything?” you hissed before trying to apply what little pressure your pain-filled hand could tolerate. A gruff whisper was his only response: “Didn't want to worry you.”

“Idiot” was the only word that could be mustered while ideas sprinted in your mind at what to do next. The lanterns were getting closer, the voices becoming more evident each second. It was a gamble, but it was the only possible choice you could see.

“Someone, help us!” Shouting into the night air, voice raising louder with the following sentence. “Pirates have attacked us!” At first, the crew members' confusion read clearly on their faces, until your stern glare made them realize what was happening. One by one, they began clutching various parts of their bodies, crying out and groaning in pain.

Sal chuckled in your arms, shaking his head before he lost consciousness, his full weight now on you to hold up. Once the owners of the lanterns broke through the bushes, they rushed in to help. But it was clear that there was surprise on both parties’ sides when seeing who the other was.

Elves? Just how far north had you drifted?

Cirdan was genuinely shocked at what he and his townspeople stumbled upon. When first spotting the burning ship, the assumption was that the sailors aboard would be his own kind—not humans. As the others rushed to those rolling in agony on the sand, he quickly made his way to where you were struggling to maintain balance while holding a relatively short man.

Finally, you allowed the tears to flow, teeth chattering as the adrenalin began to wear off and what little warmth you had dissipated. “Please, help us.” The older elf’s heart broke at the sight before him, and within the hour, you and your crew had been taken back to town to be tended to.

By midnight, Sal’s head had been stitched and bandaged. Once asleep, the shorter man's snoring rattled the walls of the boat builders' small home. The other members' wounds had been cleaned before special herbs that none of you recognized were placed over them. With no spare rooms, Cirdan was left to care for the ship’s captain on his dining table.

The first rinse to clean the wounds on your palms had not been too painful. But as the elf used various instruments to take out the bits of splintered wood, broken threads of rope, and shattered glass, you began to think that he was torturing you instead of healing.

At another flinch, Cirdan’s focus shifted to take in your exhausted face. The grimacing expression telling how much you were ready to be done with the tedious task before you both. “Almost done. I am pleased to say you will still have full use of your hands.” He whispered.

As everyone else slept, only a few candles lit the small area needed to see as he worked. In search of distraction from the sensitive and tender discomfort, attention shifted to the papers scattered around the table he had you perched on. The first few were just lists and notes, but something caught your eye.

It was beautiful.

Triple-masted, square-cut sales, the hull was designed in such detail that it felt like, with one good shake, it would drop out of the page into the water.

As you became further engrossed with the drawing, you unknowingly leaned further and further. Cirdan looked up, ready to ask you to sit still again. But when he followed where your attention had gone, he smiled softly before gently guiding your palms back into the position needed. Focusing back on digging out a particularly stubborn glass shard, he egged on your curiosity. “If you enjoy that one, you should see the one you are sitting on.”

When a deep blush of embarrassment spread across your face, he chuckled. “Here, let me help.” With the boat master’s aid to lean to the opposite side now, he pulled free the design to lay the now crinkled paper on the table for easier viewing.

Just like the previous design, this, too, was stunning. Were such ships possible to build? Once back to work on your hands, you took the opportunity to shift your attention from the design to begin admiring the unique features of the elf's home.

Intricate hand-carved details were everywhere. Spiraled door handles, doorway arches with such delicate flowers and vines it was a wonder they didn’t break, and the wall next to the dining table was carved from ceiling to floor, detailing a flock of cranes surrounded by tall standing trees.

“Did you design them?” Attention back to the page that had previously been sat on. An idea began to form in your mind at his nod and smile. “They’re beautiful; building something as grand as those must take a lifetime.”

“They are, though I am not sure if they will ever be brought into existence.” The tone of his voice tells of the pride in his creations and the enjoyment of such praise.

Allowing your voice to soften, your head tilting, and your lips turning up at the corners as you spoke, “They’re unique. It's so clear in everything you touch that this is what you were meant to do.”

As you continued, the tips of pointed ears peeking out from silver hair tinged in a faint blush. “Every detail thought through so clearly,” Cirdan gulped as he nervously tried to focus on the task before him.

But the poor boat builder struggled even more when you teasingly smiled while praising his work. “Even your door handles and chairs adorn your touches.” Your eyes locked for a moment, just long enough to see the faint tinge of a flustered blush topping the apples of his cheeks. A single fluter of your lashes and you glanced at his lips for a moment before returning to the pages laid out.

“Um, Y-yes. Yes, I feel such joy and fulfillment in what I do and what it means for my people.” He placed the metal instruments down on the woven cloth that held other items, ones that looked sharper and more intimidating the longer you looked. The response was a murmured thank you as he began placing crushed herbs over the now clean wounds. As the gauze was wrapped around each finger delicately, it was Cirdan’s turn to ask a question.

“I am curious about your ship; it saddens me that I did not have a chance to see its beauty.” The fingers he still wrapped tensed in his hands; at looking up, he saw how the color left your face, eyes turned down; it was clear you weren't there with him at that moment. “Oh, I am sorry,” turning, he brought a warm cup of tea to your lips, your hands still unable to hold anything. “In my curiosity, I did not think of your pain and loss.”

The elves' eyes watched subtly as your lips curled and then relaxed to part, observing how your throat swallowed the warm liquid he had provided. Patiently waiting until you had your fill before putting the cup down and turning back to finish bandaging up to your wrists.

Cirdan finished the bandaging with the last wrap around your wrist. In the time it took to stand, gather the instruments, and look between you and his designs on the table, an idea began to form at the front of his mind. “Is it difficult to ascertain a new vessel in your homelands?” His back faced you as he cleaned the blood from the metal objects in the sink.

His shoulders dropped as your voice broke. “My home is very far from here.” For the second time in the night, the boat master felt his heartbreak at such sadness.

That settles it, then. He had to do something. There was only so long and so little room that Grey Haven’s harbor could offer hospitality, not to mention there being no clear path ahead for you. “What I say next, you must know, is not meant to push you out.” He watches the way you curl into yourself, preparing in resignation already.

“My home is small, not suited to provide the proper healing your crew needs. I will send a message to my king-,” Your eyes widen, shaking your head as you tell him no. But he will hear none of it. Raising a hand to stop your protests, the elf continues, “I will write to my king and ask that he finds it in his heart to show compassion, especially to those that deserve it.”

You tell him you don't know how to repay his kindness; he scoffs and drinks the now-cold tea to hide the blush dusting the apple of his cheeks. The rest of the night is spent playing a few games of chess. It would have just been one, but with your hands being as they are, you kept accidentally bumping multiple pieces around. With each game, the conversation turned back to ships, elven ships.

As the darkness of night began to give way to the first glow of dawn on the horizon, Cirdan excused himself to write the letter that would be sent ahead to Lindon’s Capital. At that same time, you went to Sal. Gently, you slinked into the bedroom so as not to wake the rest of the crew before sitting on the edge of the bed that was so graciously granted to your first mate.

“Sal, Sal!” You voiced louder than planned at the shorter man’s deep sleep, which refused to release him. Finally, the rough shake to his shoulder roused him. “Wha-Whats going on?” With a quick hand over his mouth to quiet him down, you pressed a finger to your lips before whispering. “I have just spent the last few hours speaking with our new friend. He has been very kind.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at the responding wiggling eyebrows, his single eye wide in excitement. “How kind?” You leaned in to reply with a whisper, a wicked smile its companion. “Kind enough to ask if his king would help us.” Sal’s jaw dropped in shock before punching your shoulder. “How in the hell did you pull that off?”

Sitting straight, the back of your hand pressed to your forehead, sighing dramatically before speaking, “Who will take pity on little ole me, a female captain with no ship to call home? My poor crew, so ill, that even elven healers struggle to help them.”

Shaking his head while chuckling, Sal crossed his arms while wiggling more comfortably into the bed’s soft feather pillows. “So what’s the plan?”

Your smirk grew at the question.

———————

With the first rays of morning light, a plan in motion, and rules set in place, you met with Cirdan and the escort outside his home, where a hiccup had already appeared.

You nervously approached the giant beast, flinching back when its large nostrils grunted out a rush of breath. “I’ve never ridden a horse before. Can I not just walk behind?” A sympathetic smile graced the boat master’s lips as the other elf mounted their steed. “Walking would take extra days that your crew may not have. If you are unsure of riding alone, ride with the escort; they will ensure your safe arrival.”

Anxiously, you nodded in agreement, unable to see a different path around the logic presented. A few awkward jumps and one petrified yelp later saw you and the expert rider heading up the road to the capital—the poor elf at the mercy of your fearfully white-knuckled grip in their ribs. The pain in your hands be damned.

Lindon’s Palace

My Dear King,

I write to you earnestly, asking that aid be offered to someone deserving of such compassion. A pirate attack has left my new friend without a ship or home, and a crew suffering from ailments beyond my healing capabilities. The ship's Captain will arrive with an escort so that you yourself can make sound judgments of their character.

Gil-Galad re-read the letter. In his years of friendship with the Lord of Grey Haven, only a handful of times had the elder asked for royal assistance, unlike some of the other stewards of his kingdom, who seemed to lack such abstention.

He sighed when sid-eyeing the pile of letters and scrolls stacked high upon the oak desk, still awaiting answers. Fiddling with the paper’s edge, unrolling it further as he sat in thought, a previously unseen line of penmanship caught his attention.

I suggest conversing over a game of chess; you may be pleasantly surprised as I was in their company.

Your Faithful Friend, Cirdan

With a scoff, he flicked the paper back to its place on the desk's clutter. It had been hours, and barely a dent had been made in the mountain of documents that had arrived the day before.

With his kingdom settling into a gentle rhythm after so many years of war, the High King started feeling something unexpected- boredom. Gone were the days of extreme stress, battle planning, and mourning for his people. Now, they were filled with small pleasantries, mastering crafts, and, unfortunately, paperwork.

Leaning back into the hand-carved chair, fingers rubbed along the pulsing ache of his forehead, pain caused by the hours of eyes straining on documents.

A groan left his chest when an unfortunately familiar warmth spread across the top of a kneecap. The morning’s rays had started to inch into his room, their gentle cares on his vestige announcing that another sleepless night had passed.

Muscles ached and throbbed as he stood to stretch before walking to the window to watch the sunrise. His attention to the sunrise over the horizon was shifted down from his room in the tower at the arrival of a horse carrying two persons.

One was an elf, and the other a human woman. It was hard not to chuckle while watching as her arms shakily reached out to the escort to assist in the dismount from their horse, legs wobbling once on solid ground. As the escort walked off with the creature to announce their arrival, she stayed in place, observing the entry area's flora and white-barked trees.

It was rare to see a human in his kingdom. Even in memory, it was a struggle to gleam the last one and when they came. It was not surprising, as curiosity peaked about the mortal creature that had appeared at random.

That is what he told himself, at least, as his eyes fixated on the wild wind-swept hair that glowed from the crepuscular rays of morning. And repeated internally again, when observing the silhouette outlined from the sheer fabrics she wore when bending to smell a vine of jasmine.

The voice was not repeated a third time when his eyes honed in on the gentle slopes of her bust; nipples pebbled hard by the cold morning's dew. Each movement allowed more and more to be revealed by the fabric's owner. The tall elf’s heart rate panicked at admiring rounded hips that harmonized with the tops of plush, strong thighs and a waist--

When a knock raps at the bedroom door, he jumps, placing a wide palm to his chest, letting out a breath he was unaware was being held. With a final glance back at the woman, he shakes his head and asks the attendant to come in.

“High King, a visitor has arrived from Grey Haven to speak with you. Master Cirdan has sent them.” Gil-Galad froze, and his heart rate, still yet to calm down from moments ago, increased.

A quick glance to the desk where Cirdan’s note sat, as its words read out in his mind. Certainly, she was not the captain he spoke of. What in the world was that blasted boatmaker thinking? The shorter elf’s expression made Gil-Galad realize he took longer than usual to respond.

“I will be there in but a moment. Please see that our guest is attended to until then.” Gil-Galad’s eyebrow quirked as his attendant paused awkwardly, a tilt of his head letting the shorter elf know to speak. “Sire, your meeting with the human may need to wait a few days so that-“ Gil-Galad held up his hand as the memory of sheer fabric flashed away just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Master Cirdan has informed me that the aid needed for the human stands on the direness of time. I will meet with them first during my morning meal; that should allow a better inclusion of my schedule.”

With a swift nod, the shorter elf leaves to inform the morning staff of the changes. In the reflection across from where he stood, exhausted eyes and a stern expression looked back. In a singular sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Just when it seems a moment to himself has appeared, the morning maids come in to prepare a bath and lay out the royal robes.

In toe behind them, the royal retainer began listing the days itinerary, explaining how every minute of the hours were filled with meetings, agreements, and document signatures. With a singular sigh and torpid blink, he turns to take the prepared bath and begrudgingly get the day started.

When an attendant had come to gather you and usher the way to an empty grand dining room to wait, it felt like a small gift.

Palpations had been occurring every few minutes since the moment your feet touched the ground after riding for hours. Hopefully, this would give time to help calm them. Chalking the rapid heart rate up to nerves and still feeling so tired, you reminded yourself that rest, food, and sleep would come eventually. But the plan took precedence over everything, no matter the cost.

The first few minutes were spent sitting at the opposite end of the room’s expansive stone table, until those nerves raised back up—skin itching, and not just on the slowly scabbing wounds of your hands. Legs crossed only to un-cross and then cross again. The liquid in the glass of wine on the table rippled from how hard your knee bounced. When all this did nothing to aid in the growing feeling of unease, you resorted to pacing back and forth, back and forth, until the feeling of dizziness came on.

At the sound of your stomach echoing into the quiet room, you side-eyed the table. The temptation was hard to resist at the site of the varying fruits, cheeses, bread, and dishes for breakfast. While subtle, the aromas still had made their way to your nose.

With a head shake, you continued pacing; by now, you were sure that a grove had been worked into the floor. Glancing back to the chair at the opposite end of the table, a small tremor corded its way from where the palpations started to both of your poor, still wobbling legs. One misstep, one accidental insult, and the plan would be over before it could be put into motion.

With a deep breath, you hoped to calm your heart’s racing; nervousness would not be an ally. Another breath, followed by many more in succession. Still, the beating thrummed with such intensity it felt as if the betraying organ was in your throat, determined to expel itself and do a jig at your feet to taunt you.

Distraction.

Distraction would help, you hoped. Turning around, you desperately tried to focus now on the grandiose tapestry that hung twenty feet in the air. Its textured masterpiece taking so much space that the raw threadbare edges touched the flooring and side walls.

Red, look for something red. Rose bushes came into clarity on the lower section. A breath, this one a little easier- but still, your chest held tight. Animals, find the animals. Swans were flying in the open sky of the fibers- was that a unicorn?

Each detail of the textile artwork helped to distract from the sensation that rattled against your ribs. In a further attempt to add comfort, you wrapped your arms around yourself, desperately hoping to soothe the nerves that struggled to dissipate.

____

Even after the warmth of a bath and fresh clothes, Gil-Galad found his heart rate had yet to slow since looking out the window. Surely it was just another sleepless night of work that made it hard to calm such a tempestuous beating? Obviously, this peculiar feeling was not brought on by how his mind's eye sought to wave the memory of curves, backlit in a warm glow—always right when mental clarity was needed.

When reaching the dining hall, Gil-Galad held up a hand to let his attendant know he would be entering the room alone, unannounced. Cirdan had made it clear that he should make a sound and solid judgment of the Captain's character before making any decisions in the offer of aid. A wisdom he would heed. Speaking would also be better without extra eyes watching. However, it would have been better if his mind had been allowed to think of questions to ask before this moment.

Quietly, the private royal entrance opened, its door only opening for him and him alone. Stone that once lay flat and blended into the wall shifted back, then slid just enough for his size to squeeze into the room—unnoticed. The internal expectation from past interactions with mortals was that his guest would be gorging themselves on the food laid before them. But once inside, surprise met that expectation. The only other chair besides his sat empty, the dishes untouched.

There, at the other end of the room, unaware of his presence, you stood. Elven ears picked up the sounds of deep breathing, eyes watching as your heavily bandaged hands rubbed your arms while swaying gently from side to side. Gil-Galad’s eyes trailed once more to the clothes draped on your figure. Cirdan had dressed you in something so sheer?

Perhaps the boat builder had not realized that the gift offered to you had been- No. Cirdan was too bright and observant to have missed something like this. That old perverted- at the memory of this morning, the realization he had no hill to stand on and judge hit him.

Yet, he could not look away. The tension came back to his chest, and just as it began to crawl its way down, inch by inch, to an area of his body that he refused to acknowledge, panic set in and forced the moment to break.

“You have yet to eat.”

With a yelp of shock, you nearly jumped out of your skin. Turning with wide eyes and a hand to your poor, overworked, thumping heart. Finding the voice’s owner standing at the opposite end of the room.

When first trying to picture what an elven king might have looked like, your imagination pulled from what was known of your own kind. Rulers that were repugnant, rotund, and gangrenous from a life of riches and idleness.

What you did not anticipate was to be greeted with the amused expression of a very tall elf, whose attractiveness you pretended not to feel any way about. It took a moment for the shock to pass before finding yourself. “N-no.” A breath. “No, I felt it would be rude to eat before my host arrived.”

It was as if time had frozen for a moment, two statues unmoving as they visually memorized what was in front of them. Sheer fabric clashed with the opulent, almost excessive layers of gold on the opposite side. Warm brown eyes, unblinking in their seriousness, scrutinized the shocked hesitancy in your own.

When you both tried to speak simultaneously, a polite smile graced his lips as he motioned for you to go first. A thanks would be the best choice, grateful that such a renowned, elven king would spare an hour to hear a poor human captain’s woes. Pleasantries to be embellished so prettily in their bestowment.

Sadly, that option would be ruined by a comically loud growl from your stomach, no doubt retaliation at being teased for so long by such appetizing smells. Gil-Galad watched as your eyes shut laggardly before opening again, now refusing to meet his own from embarrassment.

He gave you a gift of mercy in finding the strength to choke back a laugh. “It would appear that, as a host, I have been discourteous to test the patience of such a considerate guest.” Motioning for you to sit, he continued, “Please, eat. I would ask if you are hungry, but I believe that answer has already been given.”

Unlike the High King, you did not find the strength to choke back a laugh from the jest. When your eyes met again, an expression of mirth greeted the faint blush of your cheeks. Gods have mercy; this was going to be a challenge. The elf barely said two sentences, and already, you were struggling.

Gil-Galad gulped as you pulled up your chair to sit more comfortably; he could not understand the reasons for his nerves. His gaze trailed once more to the unexpected guest across the table, unknowingly unaware of the detail being taken in of your personage.

In the earnings that dangled down to the tops of your collar bones, polished beads of sea glass glowed, backlit by the candles behind you. Indigo-dyed whalebone and sea urchin spines brandished with petrified beads of amber hung on uneven lengths of fishing wire.

Rough and raw cut jewels adorned roughly smithed mental bands, assorted in the widths of rings that hung from your neck while your fingers healed. He would admit that such ornaments are much more maximal and eclectic than is commonly seen of his own kind.

His heart rate, which had just calmed, began racing again as he watched your lips part, tongue welcoming a bite of food. His vision tunneled to take in greater detail when your brows knit together in pleasure as the flavors danced across your palate.

Blinking, he pulled himself out of the hyper-focus when reaching forward to grip the golden handle of a wine glass. Trying to calm the returning tension he had felt when watching you from when he first entered the room. This was going to be a problem.

Light filtered off your fork, hand tremoring in hunger as the choices become overwhelming. It felt as if the room was getting darker and hazy around its edges. Cirdan had offered food when playing chess, but between the pain in your hands and the nausea from still coming down from the adrenalin of survival, any thought of eating was quickly turned down.

On top of that, the ship had floated for two days into the fjord without a bite of food or water. To say you were starving was an understatement. It took every ounce of self-control not to gorge like a wild animal after the first bite into a roasted pear with salted honey, its juices bursting in your mouth.

“Lord Cirdan wrote that your ship and crew were attacked by pirates and are in further need of aid.” The question caught you off guard, cheeks chipmunk-ed out at trying to fit as many roasted butter beans into your mouth as physically possible. Peeking up, it was obvious the elf knew exactly what he had done from the smirk that pulled from the edges of his lips.

As desperate as you were to swallow your way out of this, chewing was the only option. Could you simply spit out the beans? Yes, but that would only cause further humiliation for him to watch the act. Quickly grabbing the napkin laid under the other silverware, you covered your lips and cheeks as you chewed quickly, jaw clicking from the strain.

When finally able to get the last bit down to respond, another question was put forth. “What exactly happened to your ship, the- what was its name?”

Cirdan had been correct in knowing his king would hold no punches in the judgment of your character. Gil-Galad knew that his questioning was starting to get under your skin. And what better way to begin seeing someone for who they are than by seeing how they handle their frustration?

As the minutes passed and no response was given, his eyebrow raised expectantly. Were you trying to formulate a lie? At the tilt of his head, his eyes hardened. “Are you alright?”

You chuckled hollowly, feeling a spark of enjoyment in watching Gil-Galad’s expression change to irritation as you spoke. Two could play at that game. “Only waiting to see if there are other questions, Your Majesty. I do not wish to offend such a curious mind by interrupting its thoughts.”

Gil-Galad knew that if he were here, Elrond would snort out his wine. It appears that the High King would also be judged on how his temper would be handled. Raising his palm, he gave the motion to speak.

With a deep sigh, you tried to calm the frustration that had been brought forth. “My crew and I were set upon by pirates three days ago; their cannons tore holes into the hull of my ship. By some miracle, we escaped from being boarded, but in our escape, I had steered us into a waterway that none of us recognized.”

When no interruption came, you continued. “Lord Cirdan had seen my ship just as it began taking on more water than we could bucket out.” It was unnerving being watched so intensely, warm eyes unblinking in their judgment of every word uttered into the air. “He was kind enough to offer aid. But he realized we have no way of getting home, at least not any way that would not take years on foot.”

Still not a blink from the scrutinizing gaze, you gulped to wet your now cotton-dry throat as sweat dripped down your neck. “Asking for help is not something I have any practice in. But for the people that depend on me, I will do anything in my capabilities to see that they survive.”

Silence stretched between you both. Gil-Galad contemplated your tale, sight now set on the wine glass before him. When speaking of your crew and their care, he could sense no lies, but why was his gut tightening, waiting, and expecting? It felt as if something was missing. Perhaps speaking of such a harrowing escape was not something you wished to delve into further detail.

Or -gods forgive him- the tightening that was felt had nothing to do with your words, and more to do with the internal befuddlement trying to be ignored since your arrival.

You watched as golden fibers wrapped around the barrel waist in front of you strained against expanding ribs. A deep, belly-filled breath was exhaled slowly and quietly in contemplation. As his lips parted to speak, the dining room’s doors opened. The shorter elf that first guided you in giving a small bow.

“High King, I apologize for the interruption, but the lords are gathered and waiting for you.” Whatever tension that had been building was broken instantly. Fresh air from the outside corridor wafted in, and both of you took the opportunity to breathe.

The sound of chair legs scraped against the floor as he stood, an air of equanimity held in his stance as he stared down at where you still sat, slouched back into your seat. “Please forgive my sudden departure. I would like to continue this discussion later this evening if you are amenable to the offer.” He continued at the single nod you gave while walking over to his attendant.

“Please see that our guest is given a room and fed.” At the bow of the shorter elf, the two of them slowly walked out into the hall, leaving you to watch as the door closed behind them. Once Gil-Galad was certain that you could not hear, he leaned down to whisper one last order. “And see to it that she has…warmer attire prepared. I would not wish for our guest to take a chill from the temperature tonight.” At the hesitant bow given before the shorter elf left, Gil-Galad realized he was not the only one struggling whenever what you were wearing was seen.

Once alone, he sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose. It had only been a singular hour of the morning, and already, it was obvious that the day would be as long as it was stressful.

I have this idea that Gil-Galad is never truly content. War? -Hate it. Calm and tranquil? - Bored out of his mind. So when this Captain comes around he both loves and hates how hes feeling. I'm working on outlining the next chapter but it may take a bit before its edited and posted. So please be patient. Love you all and hope you enjoy and are surviging my friends!

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[coffeecat1983]

Heyyy I'm not sure if you're taking requests, no pressure if not, but what about post-movie Luigi beating himself up for revealing Mario's name and relationship to him plus reinforcing Bowser's idea that Peach would be interested in Mario to Bowser during the interrogation scene, because he feels Mario went through so much because of him. Maybe he starts isolating himself or something. If you like that idea! :)

 Thanks for the ask! It was a treat working on this.

   "I hope it's all right."    Mario and Luigi were speechless as they followed her into the newly built mushroom house.      "The Toads used the measurements you gave them to make sure everything's the right size." The princess continued.      "Good thing they did," Mario laughed. "Me 'n Lu bump our heads in their homes. We'd need mini shrooms or something to get to toad size!"    Luigi shuddered at the mention of the power up, a move that Mario saw but Peach missed.      "B-Bowser's still locked up, r-right?"    Peach turned and gave him a smile and a nod. "Still safely tucked away." she replied before looking to Mario. "I just don't get why he was so mad at you. Just for traveling with me? It's crazy!"      "Eh who knows?" Mario rubbed the back of his neck. "Jealous for some reason."    Luigi froze, feeling a knot in his stomach.      "Do princesses find him attractive?!"      "They do if they have good taste!"      "I mean, I don't even know how he learned your name." Peach continued as they entered the room that would become the kitchen. Neither heard the whimper that escaped Luigi. The younger twin peered around the corner.      "M'm gonna be outside." he mumbled, ducking out before either could ask what was wrong.

   That evening the Bros returned to Brooklyn and once inside the apartment Luigi hung up his hat and without a word, slipped past Mario and went right for the bedroom. Marianna exited the living room, feeling confused as her youngest darted past before she could greet him.      "Mario?" she called out.      "Hey Ma," Mario greeted her as she joined him in the dining room. Leaning in, she kissed his cheek.      "My babies, how's the new house?"      "It's lookin' great! Really glad that..." The conversation was muffled as Luigi curled up tightly on his bed. As he lay there in the fading light of sunset, he heard the rest of the family arrive and caught snippets of their random chatter.      "Hey Mr. Homeowner..." came Arthur's voice.      "You boys ready...?" Marie said. Mario said something and there was faint laughter made louder by a comment from the Bros little cousin. Getting up, Luigi shuffled over to the door as hunger began to pester him. Reaching for the knob he paused as he heard Tony.      "Can't believe you boys got an entire house! And all ya had to do was beat up a monster for it."      "Still grateful you boys are okay." Marianna said. "Makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about what you went through."    His hand falling away from the knob, Luigi stepped back as he clutched nervously at his shirt.

   His name is Mario and he's the greatest guy in the world!

     "Ey, where's Luigi?" Arthur commented as he helped set the table.      "Layin' down I think." Mario replied. "I'll get him."    The bedroom door creaked, the light from the hall spilling into the dimly lit room and falling over the jumble of packed and open boxes that were strewn about. Mario's boots were quiet as he crossed the carpeting.      "Hey, Lu?" he said softly, "Weege?"    Luigi shifted slightly but didn't answer.      "Time to eat," Mario prompted. "Ma made your favorite, garlic bread with provolone."      "M'm not hungry." Luigi said quietly. "Head hurts."    Mario felt confused. He'd not sensed his twin coming down with a headache like he usually did. He lightly rested his hand on his little brother's shoulder before standing with a soft 'you take it easy, Lu'.      "Mario?"    The older twin perked up, thinking his brother had changed his mind. "Yeah?"      "...Tell em I'm sorry." he mumbled, curling up tighter. Mario hesitated but then left, quietly closing the door behind him. Returning to the dining room, he took his seat and shook his head when the others looked to him.      "Said his head hurts, and he's sorry he can't come out."      "Oh dear." Marianna said.

     "Guess the boss is pretty happy. The competition for the princess was wiped out!" a guard said as he passed the hanging cages.      "Ugh about time." his partner replied.    Luigi buried his face in his hands to hide the tears. His brother had been killed and it was all because of him.

   The bedroom door creaked again and Luigi cringed. He had heard the family say their goodnights and knew Mario would be back in to check on him. To his surprise, the edge of the bed dipped further than normal and it wasn't his brother's voice that spoke.      "A headache, huh?" there was a hint of amusement in the tone. "Let's see," Giovanni continued, his tone soft. "No music, you're still dressed, and definitely not buried under the blankets."    Realizing he'd been caught, Luigi sat up. Drawing his legs to his chest he winced at the twinge of pain bending his knees so sharply brought.      "Hey dad." he said quietly.      "Hey son," Giovanni returned. "What's goin' on? Not happy with the new place?"      "It's not that." Luigi shifted, memories plaguing his mind. "I just, I mean..."    He hesitated as the door opened again and Mario entered. Seeing them both, the older twin followed Giovanni's motion to sit down, taking a seat at the end of his own bed.      "What's goin' on, Lu? Dad?"    Giovanni nodded to Luigi.

     "We'll see how tough this Mario is, when he watches me kill his brother!"

   Luigi curled up tighter. "Everything that happened to y-you, big bro. It's my f-fault." his voice cracked as tears gathered. "Bowser went after you because of me."    Giving in, he told them everything. Being captured, the interrogation, and how he broke and revealed who Mario was.      "It was my fault! I was weak!" He shuddered, tears streaming down his face. "I almost got you killed all because I panicked."    Feeling heartsick, Mario shook his head.      "Lu, I don't blame you for any of that." He stared at the floor. "Yeah it was rough but hey, we got through it!"      "Everybody panics, son." Giovanni added. "It happens." He then let out a low chuckle. "I remember the first time I really panicked. Was pulling into the hospital with your Ma in labor, and I took the turn too fast and rear-ended someone. It was a disaster! I didn't know what to do, if I went in I'd be abandoning the accident, but I didn't want Mar going in alone."    The bros stared at him. Neither had heard that story before.      "What did you do?" Mario asked.      "Tony went in with her and I stayed behind. Got everything done, went into the hospital,"      "And was such a nervous wreck he had to run to the bathroom to throw up." Marianna finished with a laugh as she entered. "So this is where everyone is." She joined Mario, putting her arm around him and kissing his cheek. Giovanni cleared his throat, a light blush coloring his face.      "My point is, it happens." he said, looking to Luigi. "All I could think about was how I'd put your Ma and you boys in danger because I panicked and drove too fast."      "You were scared?" Luigi asked softly.    A nod gave him his answer. Luigi's shoulders slumped.      "I wish I wasn't such a coward."      "Luigi, you're no coward." Marianna said gently. Mario stood and moving to the bedside, took his twin's hands. "Ma's right. I mean c'mon, you ran in front of a wall of fire to protect me. Please Lu, don't beat yourself up over this." He smiled brightly. "You're my hero, lil bro. You always have been." Luigi relaxed a little, moving so he was sitting on the edge of the bed before wiping away his tears. "Th-Thanks, you guys." He then let out a weak laugh. "I shoulda done what they do in Papa Sal's movies, name, rank,"      "and serial number." the other three chorused with him, sending the little family into laughter. Giovanni stood, patting Luigi's shoulder.      "That's my boys." he said proudly.      "Sweetie, are you hungry?" Marianna asked. Her reply was a loud growl from Luigi's stomach.      "Any garlic bread left?" he asked with a shy smile. Announcing she'd make fresh, she and Giovanni left.

   Mario sat beside his little brother and took his hand. "You okay, Lu?"      "Y-Yeah. I guess." A raised eyebrow. "But?"      "I, I just... can you forgive me? I didn't mean to tell him everything."      "Nothin' to forgive, Lu." Mario said, resting his forehead against Luigi's. "Like I said, you're my hero." He then got up as Luigi's stomach growled again. "C'mon, let's get you somethin' to eat."    Luigi joined him and they went for the bedroom door. "Hey Mario?"      "Yeah?"      "What would my serial number even be?"      "Huh, I donno. Just don't ask Uncle Art, we know what he'd say." Luigi began giggling as he chimed in with his twin. "Sixty-nine!" they both laughed and Mario put his arm around Luigi.      "Love ya, Lu."      "Love you, too."