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thursdayinspace · 4 months ago

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Okay, so I wrote a sequel to this one that doesn't hurt! I made them all better! Listen, I love making them sad sometimes, but also I want them to be happy all the time and to have everything they want forever and ever. Soooo here's a ficlet for that. Tagging @today-in-fic

He’s not hers. He never will be. That’s not how it works. He’s not hers and she’s not his, and that’s as it should be.

“Hey,” he says, next to her on the bed, his eyes soft in the early evening light. “You’re far away.”

“I’m right here,” she says, and she is. With him in this moment, because he isn’t hers, but he is here.

His kiss is slow and full of promise and she sinks into it with her eyes closed. She’s mapped his body with her hands and navigates by touch, knows her way to all the secret places that she loves, all familiar routes that guide her home. She stakes no claim on this new land, he isn’t her possession. He is her haven in the storm and her shelter, he’s jagged cliffs and burning desert and dark, starless woods that tempt you off the path straight into peril. He’s her October afternoon, soft blankets and candlelight when rain falls heavily outside.

She’s on her back and he’s above her, unmoving for a moment, and her smile is easy and content, she doesn’t need to make it happen. His eyes hold stories in their depths and so many are about them, dark and tragic, hopeful and not yet over. She doesn’t need his words. He offers them so freely and she takes them for the gift they are. Her own seem so inadequate to her ears, but he takes them with wonder in his eyes and affection in his smile and maybe he understands her like she understands him. If anyone ever has, it’s him.

He’s mapped her too and knows her secret places; he doesn’t hurry as he travels her body with his lips. Down and down, he knows where he wants to go, and she’s ready, always ready, waiting for him eagerly. He opens her with his tongue and sighs against her, so content, like he has finally arrived. His mouth is skilled and hungry. He parts her thighs wider to expose her completely, and she fists her hands in his hair as he licks at her eagerly like he’s the one receiving pleasure from this. He’s sworn to her that it’s true.

It feels amazing and she loses track of time. She’s surfing on the waves of arousal that crest higher and higher until her thighs clench and her toes curl and her hips rise off the bed. She comes with a cry, flooding his tongue, and he grips her tighter, presses in closer, and laps at her like a starving man. He doesn’t stop until she pushes his head away weakly, whispering his name, her heart racing.

His cheek is resting on her thigh when the world swims back into focus. He looks very pleased with himself.

“Good?” he asks.

“Oh god.” She laughs. “Do you really have to ask me that?”

The happiness on his face is everything. She doesn’t remember the moment she made it her goal to put it there as often as she could. He’s been smiling a lot more lately.

It’s hard to comprehend sometimes how much she wants him. Hers is a world of science, of facts. This can’t be quantified. Even if there were a scale, it would be useless. If there were rules, they wouldn’t apply. There is no limit and there are no conditions, there’s only him, and he is infinite, he’s everywhere. In everything she sees and feels there is a part of him because their lives have touched and blended, and should they ever separate, a part of him would stay behind. He’s not hers. But he’s a part of her.

She welcomes him back into her arms and he leans in for a kiss. She can taste herself on his tongue. She is a part of him too.

There’s no resistance as he sinks into her. The stretch is welcome and familiar, her body knows him, needs him. His hips move with intent, with purpose, no hesitation, no reason to hold back. And she brings her legs around him and holds him close.

He’s not hers, but he gives himself to her, wholly and completely. He gives himself not as a thing to posses but as a companion, a partner, a home. His heart is in her hands as a loan, and she will keep it safe until he wants it back. His words, his eyes, his touch tell her it’s hers forever, but only time will tell them if that’s true. She’s given him her heart in return. She can’t imagine ever asking for it back.

The presence of him as he moves inside her still overwhelms her. The look on his face, the warmth of his body, the sound of his moans. She’s out of her box, and maybe it was always her who kept the lid closed, maybe it was always him who tried to let her out. The walls are shattered and the universe is rushing in on her, on them. It doesn’t scare her anymore.

Words are on his lips and she doesn’t look away. Her hands are on his back and she feels his muscles working under his skin as he rocks into her hard, over and over. He’s taking what she gives, and she lets him lose himself in her.

“Scully,” he breathes.

She leans up to kiss her own words onto his lips while he searches for his voice. “More,” she whispers, and knows he catches every meaning of the word.

His forehead touches hers as he shifts between her legs before he thrusts in hard, harder than before, and she throws her head back and gasps out her pleasure. “Like this?”

“Yes,” she says, and loses herself in him as he fucks her like he knows her.

Her orgasm is different with him—she holds nothing back. The sounds she makes, the look on her face, the desperate way she claws at him. She cannot hide from him, she has no protection. And she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care. He’s seen her dying, seen her bruised and beaten, held her sobbing in his arms. There are no secrets between them anymore, no shame.

She lets go, his name falling from her lips, a cry of pleasure and a prayer. He’s here, not hers, but with her. And she comes with her whole body, with him deep inside her, and she’s wild, ravenous, her tensing muscles burning as he makes her come alive with pure and perfect bliss.

When he comes inside her she clings to him, rides it out with him, her body still pulsing with the memory of her release.

And she is no longer waiting for the bee to sting.

He raises himself up on his forearms to look at her face, meet her eyes, his cock softening inside her, and at last he finds his voice.

“I love you,” he says, and she doesn’t need to believe. She knows.

“I love you too.”

They don’t need to pretend. Maybe there’ll be an end one day, but the universe is eternal and so are they, a part of each other, and this she does believe: there’s always a way.

He lies next to her and takes her hand, and for now, they’re home.

#txf #the x files #msr #mulder and scully #fic #poangpals #cali please let me out of jail now?#ficlet

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sunflowersandsapphires · 1 year ago

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A Hint of Lovely Oblivion

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: After a week of sleeping terribly, Frank makes an effort to help you get the rest you deserve.

warnings: Swearing, fluff, caring Frank, this is not medical advice

a/n: I wrote this for my lovely bestie @madschiavelique who wanted some Frankie comfort. As someone who deals with insomnia pretty regularly, this was very cathartic! I hope you all enjoy. A huge thank you to my other bestie @gracethyomen for beta-ing and helping me plan this fic!

w/c: 4.6k

Inhaling deeply, the frigid air of the room made your nose twitch. Sliding as deep as you could into the blanket pile while maintaining your seated position, you bit your lip, shifting the pad of paper on your lap and craning your neck once again. While your duvet provided an excellent shield to lock in heat, your shoulders inevitably poked out whenever you weren’t fully horizontal, leaving your body to sit in a temperature regulation purgatory; your consciousness rumbled uneasily as the hair on the back of your neck refused to flatten, your brain torn between making you shiver or letting you sweat. The position was far from comfortable—but being awake all night made comfort an unattainable goal for you anyways.

It had been days since you’d slept through the night. You were no stranger to insomnia, you’d been cursed with it your entire life, but lately it had dug its malicious claws into your chest with the violence of a starving feral animal. Your bed, which used to be a haven of rest and relaxation, was now a space that you avoided at all costs—the wonderfully soft pillows and warm blankets mocking you as they sat untouched well into the night, fatigue never overtaking you when you needed it to. For the first few nights of your ongoing battle with sleeplessness, you’d crawl under the covers anyway, praying to any deity listening that the weight and heat of the fabric would force your eyelids to close—but it never did.

Sighing as your pencil tip snapped, you closed your eyes, letting your breath rest in your lungs for a moment before exhaling again; apparently your frustration with your own hormone production created a physical pressure on the lead of your pencil. Picking up a fresh one from your nightstand, you did your best to clean up the smear of graphite from the impact of the broken point.

Turning your attention back to the subject of your sketch, you chewed your lip to stifle a smile. Despite the thick curtains your partner had insisted on, a sliver of moonlight illuminated the massive man slumbering beside you, quietly snoring away—completely oblivious to the inspiration he'd given you. The feather-light moon beams shone through his tousled hair, creeping down over his face, which was adorably mashed against his singular pillow. Considering that he'd turned up a handful of hours ago drenched in other people's blood, it was downright ironic to be calling him “adorable” as he slept—but you couldn't shake the giddy feeling that always bubbled up when you saw his face so lax with sleep. His expression was so uncharacteristically peaceful, it never failed to make you happy.

Sure, not sleeping sucked. You'd be plagued with jaw-cracking yawns and mild memory loss in the morning, just like yesterday and the day before that. Having the opportunity to watch Frank sleep soundly, didn't make up for the fact that you'd accidentally put orange juice in your coffee yesterday, but it made the build up of irritation much easier to bear. Which is why you'd decided to memorialize it in your sketchbook.

Studying the map of shadows on Frank's handsome face, you scratched the pencil over the thick paper, the rasping sound soothing the constant buzzing in your brain. Scrunching your nose as you tried to smooth out the sketch in front of you, you nearly jumped out of your skin when he spoke.

“Why're you up, darlin'?” His voice was rough with exhaustion. Noticing your wide eyes and ragged inhale, a large hand slid up to rest on your thigh. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.”

”It's alright, Frankie. I wasn't paying attention.“ You tried to laugh, but the sound died in your throat.

His hand stroked over your leg as he waited for you to answer his question. Instead, your eyes remained trained on the book across your lap, pencil moving fluidly through the silence. Tracing a thumb over your warm skin, Frank frowned. “Ya didn't answer my question, sweetheart.”

“Hmm?” Your tone was innocent, but the way your eyes remained glued to your work was enough to tell him you had definitely heard the question.

Squeezing your thigh with a yawn, Frank tried not to groan as he dragged himself up to sit next to you. His movement finally captured your attention, your brow furrowing as you set your pencil aside. “What are you doing?”

Giving what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug, Frank slid an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. ”Sittin' with my girl. That a crime now?“

Smiling despite the guilt flaring in your chest, you shoved at his solid torso feebly. ”Go back to sleep, Frankie. I'm sorry I woke you. I can—“ Shuffling in your seat, you tilted towards the edge of the mattress, fully intending to relocate to a different room so that Frank could go back to bed. Foiling your plan, Frank's arms held fast against your teetering, pulling you flush against his chest.

”Don't you dare.“ He growled, chin resting atop your crown.

”Frank! I didn't even finish my thought,“ You wriggled against his hold, your brain torn between reacting with endearment or annoyance over being imprisoned by his strength. “Let me go, you...you...butthead.” Whining at your own lackluster insult, you buried your face in Frank's neck as he chuckled.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Ain't gotta go for my throat like that.” Frank murmured smugly. You could envision his shit-eating smirk despite it being out of your line of sight.

”Shut up,“ You muttered, a tiny smile gracing your lips against your will. Your body trembled as Frank shook with rumbling laughter. Drawing you into his arms, Frank set your legs over his lap, positioning you towards the windows. The gusting heat from the vent closest to your bed ruffled the fabric covering the panes, the pale glowing rays of moonlight fluttering over your knees as the drapes shifted. It created a mesmerizing dance of light and dark, captivating you.

”Ya gonna tell me how long you've been sittin' here starin' at me or did ya wanna keep pretendin' you were asleep?” In defense of your ruthlessly persistent boyfriend, it has been said that the third time’s the charm. His tone was as delicate as his gruff voice allowed, the muscles of his jaw and throat rippling against your scalp as he spoke.

Eyes falling closed, you focused on the warmth of Frank’s body surrounding you as you willed the tears pricking your eyes to back down. Another unfortunate side effect of sleep deprivation—your emotions started to go haywire over the littlest things.

It wasn’t that you thought Frank would be angry. Well, it wasn’t the biggest anxiety on your mind, at least. It was more the fear of burdening him with your own issues at all hours when you knew a good night’s sleep was practically a miracle for him. The first night at home after a few weeks away always seemed to make it come easier, but other than that Frank rarely rested. The mere thought of forcing him to sit up with you, especially on the one night this week he’d get a full 8 hours, grabbed your guilty conscience by the throat.

Giving a halfhearted shrug, you caved. “Dunno. Slept for a few hours when we went to bed. Then I got up and...” Trailing off, you gestured to the bed in front of you, which was clearly not being used for sleep.

Frank withdrew from the embrace and your pounding heart sank. You set your jaw, waiting for the frustrated scolding…but it never came. Instead, one calloused finger landed underneath your chin, tilting it upwards as he spoke. “You been awake that long?” His eyes shone with concern, boring ferociously into yours.

Nodding miserably, you swallowed the overwhelming shame crawling up your esophagus before speaking. “I’m sorry, Frank. I tried to sleep, but I just couldn’t—“

Cutting you off with a tender kiss, Frank’s hand moved to cup your cheek. “Nothin’ to be sorry about, honey. Ya shoulda woken me up.”

Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you bit your lip, ”You deserve to sleep uninterrupted. I didn't want to be the one to take that away from you.“

Frank chewed the inside of his cheek as he was overrun with waves of adoration and sympathy for you. How he'd managed to end up with such a considerate partner, he'd never know. Especially when he didn't consistently return the gesture.

He'd come home yesterday and practically collapsed into your arms—ignoring how unsteady your balance seemed when you dragged him into the apartment, blaming it on his own weight. You'd patched him up sweetly, as you always did, and Frank hadn't thought twice about the fact that you'd had to leave the room three times to get the gauze, assuming your memory had just been shaken by his battered appearance.

Was he truly so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he hadn't noticed the sunken crescents underneath your eyes? They were so prominent now, stark sepia bruises on your otherwise even skin. It must have been days since you slept properly. Beside himself with worry, his thumb traced the indent under your left eye. ”Shit sweetheart...“

”I'm—“ You started to apologize, but it stuck in your throat when Frank shook his head.

”Hey, none of that. Don't wanna hear it, ok?” You nodded in response to his gentle command, sitting there quietly as he schemed. “Are you tired at all?”

The pitiful shake of your head seemed to make up his mind.

Unwinding from you, he raised his arms above his head in a stretch, moaning as his back popped with the movement. Your face scrunched in disapproval, making him grimace sheepishly. “Sorry, honey. Guess I was stiff from drivin' all day.” Without waiting for your response, he slid out of bed. Your brow furrowed as he strode over to the dresser, pulling a shirt over his rumpled hair.

“Get dressed, darlin'. I have an idea.” He called to you over his shoulder as he rummaged for a clean pair of pants. Sighing, you abandoned the bubble of heat surrounding you in bed and headed for the closet.

Despite your grumbles and evident confusion, the two of you were dressed and on the road before the sun even peeked over the horizon. With one hand settled in yours, Frank kept his gaze trained on the road ahead, trying not to laugh at your exasperated questioning and adorable pout. Dragging you out of the house at this hour might not have been his brightest idea—since he normally tried to remain on your good side—but hey, he’d gotten this far without you chewing his head off.

Frank could hardly be considered a morning person, but you were practically nocturnal. Leaving the house before dawn was probably high up on your list of personal hells, but staying in bed when you couldn’t sleep wasn’t a good idea. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Curtis’s agitated tone.

“For the last time, Frank: staying in bed will make it worse.”

Way back in the day, during his first trip home after going overseas, he’d bugged Curtis relentlessly about his own sleep issues. Maria was tired enough raising a wandering toddler and an imaginative kindergartener, she didn’t need to worry about a restless marine to boot. He’d tried every suggestion under the sun, but sleep still evaded him. Tour after tour, night after night, he’d lay beside his wife in their bed and stare at the ceiling until his alarm went off. After his family died, well…it didn’t exactly get easier to rest.

Despite scouring the internet, a few libraries, and the expanse of Curt’s brain for any possible cures, his sleeplessness persisted. It was a torture he endured for years, and an anguish he wouldn’t wish on anyone but his worst enemies.

Finding out that you also dealt with insomnia was a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, not having to explain his fickle moods and constant absence from the bedroom was a welcomed relief. On the other, seeing the symptoms of sleep deprivation in someone he cared about was an agony worse than an infected bullet wound.

He knew what you were going through all too well, which meant he was determined to try and help. Getting you out of the house was just the first step of his admittedly too-detailed plan.

His lips twitched with a smile as he spotted the building. Turning into the ragged asphalt lot behind the restaurant, he turned his attention to you.

“We’re here, darlin’.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you remained unimpressed. “A diner?”

Letting out a bark of laughter at your obvious disdain for the activity, Frank pointed a finger at you in warning. “Hey, don’t knock it til ya try it, sweetheart.” His exaggerated stern expression broke through your apprehension, your lips turning upwards into a fond smile.

“There’s my pretty girl.” Frank pressed a kiss to your temple, heart swelling as you leaned into him. “If ya wanna go home, just say the word.”

Biting your lip, you glanced out the window at the electric blue awning extending from the glass doors. The yellow lamp lights lining the sidewalk reflected in your wide eyes as you stared. “No, we can go. I, just…can I ask you a question first?”

“Course, honey. Anythin’.”

“Why here?” Your question was soft, but genuine; your curiosity was outweighing the contempt you’d previously shown for his choice of destination.

Running a hand through his hair, he gave a one-armed shrug. “Fuck, well... ya know I’m no stranger to the whole…not sleepin’ thing. And, uh, back in the early days, when it was real bad for me, I’d come here. We– er– Maria and I, we took the kids here a couple of times. Dunno, wanted to remember the good times, I guess, and it became a sort of tradition. Thought it might help you too.”

With a stuttering inhale, you reached for his hand, stroking a finger over his knuckles as you looked up at him shyly. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I didn’t mean to be rude about it, I’m sorry.”

Squeezing your fingers, he could feel heat creeping up his face. “It’s nothin’ sweetheart. Ain’t gotta worry about that.”

Glancing back out the window for a moment, Frank could see the gears turning in your head as you turned back to him with a tiny grin.

“Lead the way?” You asked tentatively.

“For you, sweet girl? Always.” He pressed a kiss to your hand, his stubble scratching at the skin of your fingers.

Frank ushered the two of you inside and into a booth in the back of the diner. The restaurant was lacking in customers, as could be expected given the early hour. While the inky black sky was broken up with dim streetlights outside of the building, the inside was flooded with fluorescent lights--so bright that you had to shield your eyes with a limp hand for a few minutes.

Once your vision adjusted, you had to admit that the energy in the diner was quite nice. The chipped linoleum tiles that lined the floor were a gorgeous cobalt blue. Along the ceiling, large chunks of the roof had been replaced with thick panes of glass, allowing you to watch the clouds float by, the darkness of the night contrasting beautifully with the intense lighting. You and Frank were seated on a worn vinyl booth, the strips of fabric alternating between silver and black. Similar booths wrapped around the space, almost twinkling as you looked at them.

“So,” Frank pushed a mug towards you. “Whaddya think?”

“It's nice.” You murmured, pulling the warm cup closer to yourself. Somehow you'd missed him ordering himself coffee and you a tea in your distracted state.

Frank cocked his head at you, lips turned up in a smug smirk. ”’S that so?“

Smiling into your mug as you took a sip, you retorted. ”Shut up.“

The drink was warm and, thankfully, unsweetened. It's crisp flavor relaxed your shoulders as you sipped, settling your anxious stomach.

“Hope mint is a’right.” Frank spoke quietly, a blush creeping up his face as he studied his own drink.

“You remembered.” You breathed out, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly as your eyes prickled with emotion.

“Course I did.” Frank huffed, draining the rest of his black coffee. You shuddered in distaste and he chuckled, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand. “You hungry at all?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Frank sighed, but didn't push further on the subject, which you were very grateful for. You'd never explicitly spoken to him about the effect your insomnia had on your eating habits, but--being the observant partner he was--he'd clearly picked up on it anyways. Once your day started with little to no sleep, it was like all of your bodily functions forgot how to...function. Hunger and thirst cues were practically impossible to read, your body and brain battling each other ferociously at every turn. Which, of course, just exhausted you further.

Scrubbing at one eye with the heel of your free hand, you grit your teeth to keep from groaning. Dwelling on how miserable you were going to feel today wouldn't solve anything, it would just worsen your mood.

”Head botherin' ya?“ Frank asked, brow folding in concern as he watched you knead at your forehead.

”No more than usual.“ You cracked a small smile, hoping that didn't sound as sad as you thought it did. “Just...frustrated with myself.”

“I feel ya, sweetheart. Not sleepin' ain't any fun. But I have some ideas, so don't you worry your pretty little head about it, ok?” Frank tangled his fingers with yours, his gaze earnest.

“You get ideas?” You scoffed, grinning when Frank rolled his eyes in return.

“Ya know what? Just for that, I ain't gonna tell ya about 'em.”

“Nooo,” You whined, taking Frank's massive hand in both of yours and pouting at him. ”I was just kidding. Please tell me.“

”Hmm, I dunno. First you insulted the diner, then my intelligence. Seems like you don't want my help, sweetheart.“ Frank withdrew from your grasp, pretending to sulk into his coffee.

Giggling at Frank’s pout, you reassured him. ”No, I do! I do!“

With a sad little shrug, Frank glanced forlornly out the window.

“Please Frankie,” Pleading with your gaze, you tried to keep a straight face. “You're my only hope.”

Dropping his startlingly believable moping act, Frank cackled. “Ya think you're real clever, don't ya?”

Smirking into your tea, you gulped down the last remnants with a shrug. ”Maybe.“

After your countless apologies for insulting his intellect, Frank finally explained why he'd encouraged–forced–you to leave the house before sunrise. Apparently he'd heard that staying in bed while awake could perpetuate the cycle of sleep deprivation. And, though you were loath to admit it, it seemed to help.

The little excursion definitely lifted your spirits, if nothing else. You were able to admire the sunrise and mess around with Frank without your anxiety skyrocketing because of the city crowds. It was nice, and you told him such–even at the risk of over-inflating his ego.

His next activity, however, was not as pleasant.

“Are you going to have me carry you around the apartment next?” You groused, hefting the bedframe up so that you could adjust your rapidly loosening grip on the cold metal. This much physical labor on an empty stomach and no sleep was not what you’d had in mind for a relaxing day with Frank. He, however, was insistent on moving the furniture in your room immediately upon your return home.

“You offerin'?” Frank smirked at you, pretending to set the bed frame down. His eyes glinted with a humor you didn’t share over the current situation.

“Fuck no.” You muttered, glaring at him until he lifted the majority of the weight once more. Frank laughed deeply.

“Set it right over here, darlin’. We gotta move your dresser and then we’re all done.”

“You know, if you hated the layout of my room so much, you could’ve told me months ago.” Instead of waiting until I was already reaching my limit. You thought to yourself, not vocalizing that particular vulnerability.

“And have you put me out on my ass for bein’ so forward? I’d never, sweetheart.” Frank chuckled, adjusting your bed as you collapsed against the mattress with a huff. “I’m teasin’, honey. It’s an old trick Curt told me about. All the rearrangin’ is supposed to help your brain remember how to sleep, or some shit.”

Rubbing at your forehead as the ache that had been plaguing you all day made a sudden resurgence, your limbs instinctively curled into fetal position as a small whimper escaped your lips.

“It’s helping it remember to bother me is what it’s doing.” You grumbled, gritting your teeth as the pain ebbed and flowed. You knew the more you thought about it, the more it would torture you–but the stabbing sensation was all that your fatigued brain could focus on right now.

Frank snorted, sitting beside you gingerly and caressing your hunched back with an open palm. “‘M sorry, sweet girl. Let me get ya some meds and you can lie here while I finish movin’ shit around.”

Your body felt like it was aimlessly floating, untethered to the Earth and hurrying to escape the pain so viciously attacking it at the moment. You were so tired. Every blink was a reminder of the heaven that had been ripped from your delicate grasp hours ago because your body couldn’t even function in the way it was designed to. Brow scrunching, you burrowed under the covers with a sigh.

“Ya better not be sleepin’ on me, honey.” Frank murmured as he stepped back into the room.

“Course not,” You mumbled. “Would never…”

“I know you’re tired, darlin’, but ya gotta stay awake until it’s dark. Naps will just make ya feel worse, trust me.” He trailed a finger down your arm, taking your hand and placing some painkillers into it. Waiting patiently until you begrudgingly dragged yourself into a seated position, Frank smiled softly at you as you popped the pills into your mouth. Holding the glass of water out to you, the Marine squeezed your leg as you drank, tucking his chin over your head as you collapsed wearily into his side.

“The big bad Punisher takes naps? Hard to picture, Frankie.” You teased, your voice morphing into a satisfied hum as he threaded his fingers into your hair.

Frank scoffed, kissing your crown before returning the jest. “Maybe I should take the vest off before closin’ my eyes next time.”

You giggled, burying your face into his neck. His warm flesh felt wonderful on your pounding head, soothing the pain behind your eyes with each measured breath. “Do you cuddle your guns like teddy bears?” The question was overtly ridiculous, but Frank loved you enough to entertain it anyway.

“Course. What else would I do with ‘em?” He asked coyly.

Looking up at him, the corners of your lips lifted as he pressed a line of gentle kisses down your nose until he reached your lips.

“If I turn on the TV, are ya gonna pass out on top of me?” He murmured, his stubble scratching your face as he spoke.

“Wouldn't dream of it, love.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his sturdy jawline before he stood up to grab the remote.

If someone would’ve told you a year ago that your next boyfriend could make a bad insomnia week feel tolerable, you never would’ve believed them. But here you were—lying on your stomach completely topless as Frank massaged a lightly scented lotion into your back—feeling pretty comfortable with the whole arrangement.

After you’d failed to stay awake during the movie you’d picked out, Frank had carted you around town on various errands: picking up groceries, going to the bookstore, and even taking a quick walk around the park to feed the ducks, which he knew you loved. Your body still ached, and your mood still waned, but overall, it was a good day. And all the credit belonged to your incredible partner.

Groaning appreciatively, it felt like you were melting into the mattress as Frank tenderly stretched your taught muscles, unraveling the knots of stress that had been building up all week.

Chuckling, Frank pressed a tiny kiss to your bare shoulder. “Glad it feels good, sweetheart.”

“No, it’s awful,” You lied. “You clearly need more practice..”

Frank snorted, “Noted. How’re ya feelin’?”

“Tired.” You sighed, rolling over as Frank handed you one of his tees to sleep in.

“I bet. We’re on the last leg, sweetheart, almost there.” Frank’s large hands eagerly wrapped around you as you nestled into his side. Cupping your face with one palm, the fingers of his other hand threaded into your hair, detangling it carefully and brushing it off of your face.

Biting your lip in frustration, and to keep from sighing again, you nodded. Attempting an understanding smile, you poked him in the chest. “I know. Thanks for putting up with my cranky self today.”

“Sweetheart, you can be snappy with me as much as ya want if it means you’ll sleep through the night.” Frank smirked, squishing your cheek as your eyes suddenly blurred with tears.

“I love you.” You whispered, going limp in his hold as he settled against the pillows.

“I love you too, darlin’. So much.” Resting your foreheads together, he kissed you delicately and your lashes fluttered.

“Frankie?” You looked up at him with your practiced ‘doe eyes’ expression that he could never resist.

“Yah?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Can you read to me?” Batting your lashes, you watched with satisfaction as Frank’s expression softened, your eyes taking in the exact moment he caved to your whims.

Straightening his posture stoically, he reached over to grab your new book from the nightstand with an exasperated huff. “Oh, I see. This was all a scheme of yours to get me to read to ya? ‘S that it?”

“No…” You giggled, nuzzling into him as he cracked the novel open.

“Sure, sure. You’ll be hearin’ from my lawyer, sweetheart. Think ya owe me compensation.” He winked at you, eyes lingering on your face.

“Honey, before ya drift off, jus’...” Sighing, he stroked a thumb over your cheek. “Just know, if all this doesn’t work, cause it ain’t a cure all, ya know–”

Laying your hand over his, you gave him an encouraging look. He inhaled sharply, thinking about how he wanted to phrase the sentiment.

“I want you to sleep, darlin’, ya know I do. But if it doesn’t happen tonight, we can always try again, ok?”

Startled by the affection in his tone and his beautiful promise, your face went slack as you nodded. Eyes flitting over your gaze, he nodded curtly once he decided you understood. Returning his attention to the book in his hands, he cleared his throat before beginning to read. His rumbling velvet tone soothed you, your eyes falling closed almost immediately. Here, in the safety of Frank’s arms, surrounded by his beautiful voice and reassured by his adorable promise, you finally felt at peace. Though you knew sleep might continue to evade you, the anxiety you’d felt about your insomnia didn’t feel quite as all-consuming tonight. Whatever happened, Frank would be there. And, for now, that was enough.

Thanks for reading!!

#frank castle #my writing #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher netflix #the punisher imagine #punisher #netflix the punisher #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #fc

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warrioreowynofrohan · 8 months ago

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Okay, this is really nitpicky, but I have to say it. When the Fëanoreans landed in Middle-earth, Celegorm did not lead an army south and relieve the siege of the Falathrim. I’m seen that referenced or mentions in a lot of meta and fics, but it never happened. And there is no indication that Celegorm even met Círdan or any of his people, or was even aware of them prior to Fingolfin’s forces arriving.

What happened was that Morgoth reacted to the Fëanorean forces’ arrival by pulling his army besieging the Falathrim away and sending it north towards Ard-galen. And then, when it was in the north, far from the Falas, attacking the Fëanoreans, Celegorm defeated that army.

Yes, this is minor, and yes, it’s beneficial to the Falathrim that the arrival of the Fëanoreans made Morgoth decide he needed that army more elsewhere, but there is no direct “showing up and rescuing them” moment, and none of the Fëanoreans are anywhere near the Falas during the Battle-under-Stars, and Celegorm has no more to do with the benefit to the Falathrim than anyone else does (though he gets the Fëanorean forces out of a tight spot) and this just seems to be a weirdly common fanon misconception?

Under the cold stars before the rising of the Moon the host of Fëanor went up the long Firth of Drengist that pierced the Echoing Hills of Ered Lómin, and passed thus from the shores into the great land of Hithlum; and they came at length to the long lake of Mithrim, and upon its northern shore made their encampment in the region that bore the same name. But the host of Morgoth, aroused by the tumult of Lammoth and the light of the burning at Losgar, came through the passes of the Ered Wethrin, the Mountains of Shadow, and assailed Fëanor on a sudden, before his camp was full-wrought or put into defence; and there on the grey fields of Mithrim was fought the Second Battle of the Wars of Beleriand. Dagor-nuin-Giliath it is named, the Battle-under-Stars, for the Moon had not yet risen; and it is renowned in song.

The Noldor, outnumbered and taken at unawares, were yet swiftly victorious; for the light of Aman was not yet dimmed in their eyes, and they were strong and swift, and deadly in anger, and their swords were long and terrible. The Orcs fled before them, and they were driven forth from Mithrim with great slaughter, and hunted over the Mountains of Shadow into the great plain of Ard-galen, that lay northward of Dorthonion. There [in Ard-galen] the armies of Morgoth that had passed south into the Vale of Sirion and beleagured [EDIT] Círdan in the Havens of the Falas came up to their aid, and were caught in their ruin. For Celegorm, Fëanor’s son, having news of them, waylaid them with a part of the Elven-host, and coming down out of the hills near Eithel Sirion drove them into the Fen of Serech.

If you will indulge my very bad edit of the Beleriand map:

The orcs coming from across Ard-galen from Angband cross the mountains and attack the Fëanoreans up at Mithrim, in the top. The Fëanoreans drive them back over the mountains into Ard-galen. The orcs that were besieging the Falas, brought up as reinforcements for the other orcs, come up all the way into Ard-galen. Celegorm, attacking from Eithel Sirion (which is north of the Fen of Serech), drives them south into the Fen.

At no point in this are the Fëanoreans - Celegorm or other - anywhere near the Falas. Celegorm's actions have no more impact on the Falas specifically than anyone else's.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #dagor-nuin-giliath #feanoreans #celegorm #falathrim

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bronze-and-silver-keys · 2 months ago

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Pregame v3 au where I basically rewrite all of it in this fic

Warning very long post

So following the reopening of Hope's Peak Academy, with Makoto as headmaster (following the end of the dr3 anime), new students are scouted for the 79th class. The talents they end up recruiting are largely for the sake of rebuilding society after the tragedy. They looked for talents that would help the environment, the people, and society as a whole recover with better systems in place.

Ecosystem Team

Lead by Aoi Asahina

Members:

Gonta Gokuhara, Ultimate Entomologist

Responsible for helping maintain the huge garden within Hope’s Peak Academy grounds, caring for various plants to attract and house pollinators and restoring populations of the insects and critters that are important to the balance of the ecosystem and food production.

Rantaro Amami, Ultimate Adventurer

Part of the main search and rescue team, sailing out to find city ruins and explore them or touch base with developing cities recovering from the Tragedy and get them in touch with FF/HPA for any future assistance. Still searching for his sisters during these trips. Survivalist, mapping, and navigation expert.

Kirumi Tojo, Ultimate Maid

Does as she's asked to help clean up environmental destruction. Acts as a kickass support wherever she's needed, and helps to maintain the HPA building and other facilities.

Social Team

Lead by Makoto Naegi and Yasuhiro Hagakure

Members:

Kaede Akamatsu, Ultimate Pianist

Writes and plays new pieces of music to perform to the survivors of the Tragedy and restore hope within them

Angie Yonaga, Ultimate Artist

Creates new art pieces that inspire others to create as an outlet for their despair to make way for hope

Tenko Chabashira, Ultimate Neo Aikido Master

Practices and spreads the teachings of Neo Aikido as a method of self defense, as well as a way to get in touch with emotions and physically work out those emotions

Himiko Yumeno, Ultimate Magician

Comes up with and performs elaborate tricks to restore wonder and hope in the audience, it helps to know there's a little bit of magic still left in the world

Subteam in Towa City led by Toko Fukawa and Komaru Naegi

Societal Team

Lead by Byakuya Togami and Kyoko Kirigiri

Members:

Korekiyo Shinguji, Ultimate Anthropologist

Uses his expertise and research of other cultures to assist in building a stronger society that is less susceptible to the kind of collapse that happened with the Tragedy, largely focusing on the social and cultural aspects of these structures.

Miu Iruma, Ultimate Inventor

Uses her vast knowledge to design and create inventions that will help with the destruction and pollution of the planet and make it livable and more accessible for the survivors of the Tragedy

Shuichi Saihara, Ultimate Detective

Kirigiri's apprentice. Assists with rebuilding a better society in regards to laws and systems put in place by the government to support the people to lessen crime and preventing a repeat of the Tragedy.

No team:

K1-B0, Ultimate Robot

Often hanging out with Miu to further her talent research as well as his own, seeing how far he can push himself and how lifelike he can become as an android. His existence is really what makes him Ultimate.

Kaito Momota, Ultimate Astronaut

Continues his Astronaut training and researches celestial phenomenons purely for the joy of exploring the universe and having more knowledge about its vastness

Ryoma Hoshi, Ultimate Tennis Pro

HPA bailed him out of juvie to study his tennis skills and his participation on the recovery teams would serve as public service. Helps out wherever he's needed, prefers the Ecosystem Team.

Maki Harukawa, Ultimate Assassin

Occasionally called out with the Social team to apprehend particularly difficult opponents still under the influence of Junko and Ultimate Despair. Most of the time, the academy is just a safe space for her to relax and train her mind and body.

Tsumugi Shirogane, Ultimate Cosplayer

HPA is a safe haven for her after being rescued from a city completely decimated by the Tragedy, and she spreads her love of cosplay to others looking for a little escapism in the hellish world they've suffered through.

Kokichi Ouma, Ultimate Supreme Leader (?)

No one really knows what his talent is. The Future Foundation tracked his movements backwards and found he had several run-ins with the Remnants of Despair and even Kamukura when they were still inflicting despair upon the world. Somehow, he managed to charm his way out of danger each time. Kyoko found him and took him in, making him a ward of HPA and FF. HPA is his home more than anything now, though his fellow students don't know that.

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bitethedevil · 2 months ago

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A House of Hope (Modern!AU Raphael x Tav): Chapter 2

Read this fic on AO3

Last Chapter / Next Chapter

Fic summary: Tav lives at her mom's place after a tough break-up with her former boyfriend. Rent isn't cheap anywhere, but one day her mom finds her someone online who presents a tempting new living situation that won't break her bank account.

Tav moves into the Haven estate and becomes a part of Raphael's House of Hope project: a project that helps unfortunate souls to get back on their feet. Although, something is not quite right about the house and her fellow tenants. That's not to mention her odd landlord who seems to be hiding something...

AN: Raphael, our dear problematic landlord, is playing it safe in these first couple of chapters, but he will get so fucked up later on. For now we are setting the scene a bit more. NSFT stuff in the next chapter as Haarlep is properly introduced.

Tav yanked on the window to her bedroom. She pulled it closed but the handle would just not go down and let her keep it closed.

She had finally found something wrong with the apartment. She had been expecting toxic mold to hide somewhere behind the furniture, so she supposed that a broken window was really a minor fault.

She gave up on the stubborn window and instead felt the need to explore her new surroundings a little bit. She folded the map of the estate that Raphael had given her and put it in her back pocket.

When she opened the door to the shared entrance, she stepped out into a cloud of smoke. She blew it away and then looked for the source of it. A blonde, middle-aged woman who looked a bit worn out by life stood to the side of the doorway puffing on a cigarette.

“Sorry honey. Didn’t see you there,” the woman said in the hoarse, croaky voice of someone who had smoked their entire life. “You the new one?”

Tav nodded.

“I’m Tav,” she greeted. “Nice to meet you.”

“Linda,” the woman said curtly. “I live next door. Now…”

A beat of silence came as Linda took another long drag from the cigarette between her boney fingers. Tav looked at her for a moment and a smile tugged on her lips from the slight awkwardness of the pause that was just a moment too long.

“I won’t stop you from listening to loud music,” Linda continued after letting out a trail of smoke. “but I’ve got a heart condition, so be considerate of that. No blasting loud music out of nowhere. Turn the volume up gradually, you hear?”

Tav nodded again with a polite smile.

“I’ll remember that.”

She watched Linda’s bright turquoise nails tickled at her nose as she took another deep drag from the cigarette, all while she was watching her skeptically through her matching turquoise eyelids.

Tav’s eyes lingered on the cigarette for a moment. She cleared her throat.

“I know it’s not nice to test the hospitality of my neighbors from the get-go, but could I maybe borrow a cigarette?” Tav asked.

Linda blew out a cloud of smoke and slowly retrieved her pack from the maroon fanny pack around her waist. She opened the lid so she could take one. Tav placed it in her mouth and then looked from Linda’s face to her fanny pack.

“Could I borrow a lighter too?” Tav asked when she made no move to hand her one.

Linda fiddled with her bag at the same slow pace before pulling out a lighter and lighting the cigarette for her.

“Are you capable of smoking it yourself or do you need assistance with that too?” Linda quipped.

Tav grinned and took a drag of the cigarette. The nicotine made her body relax immediately.

She could already tell that she would like Linda. She knew her type because her old neighborhood had been filled with Lindas. She always had a weakness for those no-bullshit, chain-smoking ladies who you could see from the first glance had seen some shit in their life.

They should not be underestimated. They were always brutally honest, and they always had all the gossip.

Linda looked her up and down and narrowed her eyes in thought.

“Yeah, you’re a pretty one,” Linda mused. “It won’t take long, no…Not long indeed.”

“For what?”

“For the master of the house to try and get in your pants,” Linda answered casually. “If he can get his cock out of Raha for even a second, that is. She’s a nympho. Watch out for that one. She’s one of those bisexuals or what you call them.”

Tav’s eyes widened, and she grinned at the candidness of her words.

“Yeah?” Tav said, a bit lost for words. “Interesting. Raphael a bit too old for me, I’m afraid.”

“He’s too old for Raha too but that doesn’t stop him,” Linda said with a huff and put out her cigarette. “Have you met with the others yet?”

Tav shook her head and took another drag of her cigarette.

“I’ve seen you and someone named John,” she said. “That’s it.”

“John has dementia,” Linda said bluntly. “He doesn’t talk much anymore. You haven’t met Raha and Oscar then. Raha is the nympho, Oscar is…”

She put her finger to her head and made the universal sign for craziness.

“I see,” Tav said. “Are you all close?”

“You’ve got to stay close in this madhouse,” Linda sighed. “We meet in the chapel usually. I’ll take you there.”

They went to the chapel. It was a piece of beautiful architecture, but it was very clear that it had not been used as a chapel for quite some time. Some of the benches had been arranged around tables that had been pulled inside from elsewhere.

Except for the fresco on the ceiling, the stained glass on the windows, and the cross on the wall, the chapel just looked like a well-used room for socializing and shared activities.

The three other residents were already in there.

John that she had met earlier was there, eating a pastry of some sort with shaking hands. Next to him sat a younger man in his thirties, who she guessed was Oscar.

Oscar was nervously biting at his nailbeds. He was brown-haired and looked up at her with the most beautiful and vivid green eyes she had ever seen. His eyes flicked over her.

Next to Oscar sat who could only be Raha: a gorgeous young woman with olive skin, dark hair and even darker eyes. She was playing with Oscar’s hair, which he seemed quite uncomfortable with.

“Everyone, Tav,” Linda said and gestured to her. “Tav, everyone. Come sit with us. Sit next to John. He doesn’t bite.”

Tav sat down and John turned to look at her with slight confusion.

“Maria?” John spoke quietly in a hoarse voice, his eyes lighting up a bit.

Linda gave a sympathetic sigh.

“Maria died, John,” Linda said in a loud voice so that the elderly man could hear her better. “This is a new one. Tav.”

“Tav…” John mumbled before returning his eyes to the pastry in his hands.

“Maria had your apartment before,” Linda explained and lit another cigarette. “Nice girl. She was about your age, which is why John’s confused. Tragic what happened to her… Aneurysm. It can even happen to the young ones.”

Tav noticed how Oscar’s eyes narrowed at that statement for some reason. He looked at Tav. His eyes flicked just above her head for some reason. He stared for a moment. Instinctively, Tav fixed her hair, expecting to find a leaf that had landed on her or something, but there was nothing. Oscar looked her in the eyes again.

“Did you already sign?” Oscar asked quietly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tav answered. “Signed just about an hour ago. I’ll live next to Linda.”

“A pity,” Oscar mumbled in a dark tone.

Linda rolled her eyes and then looked at Tav, as if to tell her not to take him seriously.

“What do you do, Tav?” Raha asked in an almost sultry tone. “Are you going to work here with us?”

“Uh, no,” she answered. “I already have a job, so… I have lectures to go to, so I can’t really avoid going into town anyway. My workplace isn’t far from where I study.”

Raha smiled and nodded. Her canines looked unnaturally sharp as she smiled. Her eyes trailed down to look at Tav’s cleavage. Tav pulled up the neckline of her shirt a bit and cleared her throat.

“Do you all work here?”

“Yes,” Raha said and reluctantly pulled her eyes away from Tav’s tits. “We all have our duties around here. Oscar fixes things and takes care of the garden, John is an assistant of sorts, Linda cleans…”

“And you?” Tav asked.

Raha’s gave her another toothy smile.

“A bit of this and a bit of that…” she said in a suggestive tone. “Mostly I just keep the master of the house happy.”

“Mhm,” Tav said with a nod and quickly changed the subject. “So…why is it that you all meet out here? I thought I saw a meeting room for the tenants on the map…”

“He doesn’t come here,” Oscar quickly said. “Raphael never comes out here.”

“That’s not to say that we hate the boss,” Linda quickly added and looked at Tav. “But he can be a bit controlling and nitpicky at times. Sometimes it’s nice to have a separation between church and state, so to say. A space where you can get away for a bit.”

“Makes sense, I suppose,” Tav mumbled.

“Speaking of churches,” Linda said and pointed to the corner of the room. “If you are religious there’s a little altar and some candles over there. No one but John really uses it, but he can share.”

Tav looked to where she was pointing and then nodded. There was a table with some candles and a small cross on it. She had never been particularly religious, so it didn’t matter a whole lot to her.

Linda checked the turquoise watch around her wrist.

“I’ve got work duty,” Linda said and took a final drag of her cigarette before putting it out. “Oscar, can’t you take care of the new one? Walk her back to her apartment and keep Raha away from her.”

Raha moved her hand to her heart in mock-offense at her words.

“Don’t be jealous, Lin,” Raha purred. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

Linda huffed at her before walking out. Tav looked at Oscar and gave him a polite smile. He sighed before getting up from his seat.

“Come on then.”

“Hey about what you said earlier,” Tav said. “What did you mean by that? That it was a pity?”

Oscar was taking her through a huge garden. It was a different route than the one Linda had taken her on. The gardens were just as perfectly kept and beautiful as the rest of the house.

Oscar gave a small shrug.

“I’m not supposed to say.”

“Come on, now,” Tav urged. “Did I make a mistake by signing?”

Oscar looked at her with those green eyes of his. There was a tinge of sadness in his eyes and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter,” he sighed. “There’s no way out now anyway.”

“Please. Give me something. Moving brings enough anxiety in itself. I just want to know what I’m walking into. Is this all a scam? I had a feeling that it was.”

Oscar gave a long, tired sigh and shook his head.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me. Please.”

He considered her for a moment. Their surroundings were beginning to look familiar now, meaning that they couldn’t be far from her apartment.

“Would you believe me if I said that you will never escape from here again?” Oscar said in a hushed tone. “That I’m not as crazy as the others make me out to be…that there is something seriously wrong with this place and…him.”

“Raphael?”

“Yes,” he said in an even quieter tone. “He’s not human, and I mean that in the most literal sense. Something is wrong with this place.”

Tav gave a sympathetic nod. She had dealt with people similar to him before. She had seen people with drug-induced psychoses. Drugs sometimes made her feel a little crazy too. Hallucinations, auditory and visual, and the delusions…

She was trying to determine what kind of crazy Oscar was.

“I see,” she said softly. “What is he then?”

“He’s not from here,” Oscar muttered and then looked at her with growing defeat in his eyes as he watched her expression. “You don’t believe me,” he said with a sad smile. “That’s alright…Just…take care. Your apartment is over there.”

Oscar pointed at her front door and then left before she could say anything. Now she felt terrible. She had not meant to be patronizing, just understanding. She sighed and walked in.

There was a letter stuck to the door of her apartment. She took it off before walking inside. It looked very official with a red wax seal and everything.

She opened it. It was an invitation to have dinner with Raphael.

Tav was led into the grand dining room of the estate by John who had greeted her at the door. The dining room was as lavish as the rest of the house. There were candles lit everywhere, shining their orange light over the gold and red furniture of the room.

The table was already set. It seemed that it was just going to be Raphael and her. Raphael lit up when he saw her. She self-consciously adjusted her clothes.

“I feel severely underdressed,” she said with an embarrassed chuckle. “My things haven’t gotten here yet, so…”

“Nonsense,” Raphael said. “You look fine just how you are. Please, sit.”

She sat down. Raphael took his seat at the head of the table.

“This is simply a little tradition we have here,” Raphael explained. “I find it useful to get to know who lives underneath my roof. Don’t feel nervous, dear. It is not an interrogation. Just dinner.”

“Just dinner,” she repeated with a nod. “Well. I’m an open book.”

Raphael poured a glass of wine for her and then himself.

“Let us get the unpleasantries out of the way, hm?” he said. “I was curious about this former boyfriend of yours. Your mother told me of his unsavory occupation. I trust he won’t be an issue for us?”

“No, no. It’s done and over with. He won’t come here or anything.”

“Good,” Raphael said with a smile. “His presence may prove difficult for one of our tenants. I won’t gossip, but you are not the only one who has had trouble with narcotics.”

“Okay,” Tav said with a tight smile and held up a hand to stop him. “I want to explain myself, because I feel like my mom might have filled your ears with her usual overexaggerated stories. I’m not really a drug addict.”

“No?” Raphael asked and took a bite of his food.

“No, not really,” she continued. “I did drugs, yes, but I wasn’t…’addicted’ to cocaine or to weed or to LSD or whatever. I just needed a little escape from reality every now and again, that’s all. I distanced myself from it when I felt like I was losing control over it. I’m clean now.”

Raphael gave a thoughtful hum and swirled the wine in his glass. He looked her over and a smile tugged on his lips.

“You would not say that a continuous craving for an escape or distractions is an addiction in itself?” Raphael challenged.

She bit the inside of her cheek in slight annoyance with how he pressed the subject. Also, in annoyance with how truthful that statement had described her former problems, but she would never admit that. She forced a small smile.

“I suppose,” she said with a shrug. “What can I say? I get bored easily and I have a hard time dealing with it. That’s all it is.”

She had always felt that way. She needed to be fully engaged in something interesting for her to feel like she was even alive. She needed something to obsess over. When she did drugs, everything was interesting. It was a nice replacement for a while, but at some point, even that became boring.

“Well, I can assure you that you won’t be bored here,” he said with a smile. “What were you trying to escape from, I wonder? Your boyfriend, perhaps?”

She shook her head.

“Just life, I suppose,” she said with a sigh. “No, Luke was fine. Nicest and most understanding boyfriend I have ever had, actually. I told him I couldn’t be with him because he did drugs. The truth is that I couldn’t be with him because I did drugs. He was a bit of a pushover, so telling him not to sell to me when I asked him didn’t really work, unfortunately.”

“Sounds like a painful separation,” he said.

“It was…” she said. “But it’s all over now. The relationship and the drugs. Things will be very different…”

She didn’t understand why she was telling him all of this, but still, she did. She felt as if she constantly needed to explain herself these days. It was as if she had a big brand on her forehead that said ‘addict’ and it was her new life’s purpose to explain that to everyone.

She cleared her throat.

“What about you?” she asked.

Raphael raised an eyebrow.

“What about me?”

“Who are you?” Tav asked and took a bite of her food. “Other than a very charitable landlord, I mean.”

Raphael leaned back in his seat and swirled the wine in his glass with a smirk.

“Your new neighbors haven’t spoken to you about me? I find that difficult to believe.”

“Only very little,” Tav said. “I’m sure your answer is different from theirs, anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he purred. “Though I am still very curious about what they have said so far.”

Tav took a long sip of her wine, which gave her a moment to think about what she could say without getting her fellow tenants into trouble. They all worked for him, after all. She didn’t want to jeopardize anyone’s livelihood or living accommodations by accident.

“Well,” Tav finally said and cleared her throat. “I got the idea that you are pretty close with your tenants. Other than that, it was mostly sort of confusing statements. Oscar believes you’re an alien or something, which wasn’t super helpful information.”

He let out a hearty laugh at that. Tav smiled and laughed along with him.

“He’s a very imaginative boy that one,” he said in an amused tone. “I believe he thinks I’m the devil. That is the usual warning he gives to newcomers.”

“The devil? Wow,” Tav said with a chuckle. “What did you do to earn that title?”

Raphael gave an almost coy shrug and sipped his wine.

“I pride myself on my ability to help people, but it is hard to do so when someone does not want to be helped. I suppose I might have lost my temper once but believe me when I say that it was only because I cared about what happened to our dear Oscar.”

Tav nodded in understanding as he explained.

“He is a very sweet and smart young man…whenever he remembers to take his medicine, that is, which is less and less these days. Though you will have no trouble with him. Even when he is off his medication, he has never been known to be violent or troublesome.”

“I see,” Tav said. “You still haven’t answered my original question though.”

Raphael gave her another shrug.

“It is a difficult question to answer,” he said. “I am many things, and I have my fingers in many pies, as they say. There is no set job description, but I can assure you that the most important work I do, I do here. Nothing is as rewarding as seeing my residents just…blossom.”

He smiled at her. There was something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. A glint in his eye or something. She wasn’t sure. There was definitely something up with this man, she felt. She brushed it off for now.

Raphael poured her more wine and continued their chat for a while before Tav headed home to sleep her first night in her new home.

It was getting dark outside. Tav was making her bed when she heard an odd noise. She paused her movements for a moment, but it seemed as if the noise disappeared the moment she did so. She shook her head and wrote it down as her being jittery over sleeping someplace new.

She tried closing the troublesome window again. She grabbed the handle and pulled it shut, but it would still not go all the way down. She tried yanking harder on it, but nothing happened. She pulled harder on the handle, but then it would not go down at all.

She sighed and once again gave up.

She pulled her pants off and got under the covers. She gave a small sigh of relief as she lay down on the bed. It felt as if her spine aligned for the first time in months. The mattress was the perfect balance of firm and soft against her back.

She turned off the light. The moment she did, the noise returned.

It seemed to come from outside. It was a low, windy, moaning sound. She didn’t feel like getting up, so she squinted and looked out of the dysfunctional window. She could see on the trees and bushes of the barely lit garden, that there was no wind that was making the noise.

She was too tired and too comfortable to care at that moment. The house was ancient, after all. It was bound to make weird noises every now and again. She brushed it off and closed her eyes.

She quickly drifted into that state between being awake and being asleep. The noise became louder and clearer. She could have sworn that it suddenly sounded like a thousand people wailing and wheezing in despair.

Sleep quickly seemed to swallow her whole regardless.

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #raphael bg3 fanfic

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brineoffire · 8 months ago

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Part 2 of The Right Price!

Riled Up

You had none. Zero. Absolutely no idea how you got here. Laswell introduced you again to them man you saved. The Captain. You saved. You babble on about how it was a fluke, how it was absolutely dumb luck but there's no insisting with Price. There's no damn way a rookie could take out four hostiles on his own on luck alone. He knows it and you sure as hell better start focusing on it because you CAN NOT turn down the pay raise.

You'd definitely never planned to be flying with a Captain to join his task force. And you definitely didn't plan to have the shit scared out of you by the huge Lieutenant waiting at the helipad to meet the two of you when you touched down. The guy was huge! He saw a little over eye to eye with Price and damn if you didn't stare at that skull mask a little too long. It wasn't your fault. Tall, dark, and secretive was everyone's thing. That's what you tell yourself when you realize the guy, Ghost, is eyeing you suspiciously.

"Easy there Ghost. New recruit."

"H-howdy, good to meet you sir. Roland Haven, sir." You stumble over your own words as he stands there unamused, your hand out awkwardly before you give up and let it fall to your side. You suck in an embarrassed puff of air through your teeth.

"Don't take it personal, kid." Is all Price gives you as he claps you on the shoulder, pulling you forward with him past Ghost and into the base. You still feel his eyes burning into your spine but you don't let yourself look back again and focus on the direction your pushed in. You get shown to a small barren room, a simple bed, dresser, desk, and chair as Price nods you in.

"This'll be your room from now on lad. Get cozy, proper intros start in thirty." Giving him a nod he heads off as you set your small bag on the bed. You didn't have much with you but you do take a little time to throw your clothes in the dresser and drop your laptop and headphones on the desk. A deep sigh leaves your lips as you look around again and wonder how you got yourself this fucking deep. It doesn't really matter how anymore though, you definitely need the money, and you're not one to turn down a fast track past dealing with other shitty recruits like in your last two teams.

Before long you find yourself heading down the hall following after where Price went to the meeting room. You didn't have anything else to do so heading here ten minutes early was fine by you. Looking around the room you make a note of the layout, wandering around and glancing at maps and a few images of what you can guess is the entirety of the 141. Your skin nearly falls off your bones when you hear a gruff voice call out loud and clear somewhere behind you and you thank your horror game conditioning for keeping you from physically flinching.

"Someone's early ay?" You glance over your shoulder towards the opposite side of the room and notice Ghost once again. He stands by the back wall, arms crossed over his chest, the sockets of the skull baklava on his face look empty with how dark that end of the room is. There's a chill that runs up your spine as you turn to give him a salute, unsure of how to proceed.

"Uh. Yes sir. Wasn't really sure what else ta do." He stares at you as he steps forward, you can see the glint of the lights on his eyes now at least. Makes him look less like death but it means he's that much closer to you. Out of the frying pan you think to yourself. He stares for a long while before nodding and moving to lean on the large rectangular table.

"Right well now you wait with me then." He gestures a hand over to one of the seats opposite him and you hesitate before you get yourself stepping towards it.

"So, uh. Ghost huh? How'd you get that name?" His eyes narrow at you as you sit and you can't help but swallow air.

"Listen 'ere recruit. I ain't in the mood to lead a green'orn around 'ere, an' I sure as shite ain't gun'na let you get anyone on this team killed. You best keep up or you will be lef' behind." Another gulp as his dark eyes bore into yours. You raise your hands in a mock surrender as you nod.

"Understood sir. I ain't looking to ruffle any feathers." He scoffs but doesn't add anything else to his rant so you lower your hands to your lap and sit in a silence so loud you feel like your breath is annoying him. You know better then to piss off a giant you couldn't even hear so you keep any snark behind your lips, rare for you to keep quiet but Ghost didn't know that yet. It's a long ten minutes before you hear footfalls getting closer to the room, time to meet the team.

#141 x male reader #141 x trans male reader #poly 141 x male reader #141 #141 x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #poly 141 #cod 141 #captain john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick

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vodika-vibes · 10 months ago

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a fic about CX-2, because he needs some love and maybe a reader or S/O could rescue him from tantiss and take care of him and feed him good food and make sure he’s happy and healing

Idk if he is tech or dogma or anyone we’ve met before cause nameless clones deserve so much love and idk why I feel lowkey emotional, but it made me so sad when he got turned into a kebab, after all the torture and stuff he went through, I just wanted to hug him

Anyways, I hope you have a wonderful day!

In The End

Summary: It’s been a year, 12 long months, since the last time that you saw CX-2. You went on a date with him, and then he vanished, with only a simple message saying that he had to work and that he’d contact you when he could. And then he fell off the face of the map. And now, almost a year later, and with the able assistance of a group of Wookie Mercenaries, he’s back with you, safely on your ship headed for the haven you’ve arranged beforehand.

Pairing: CX-2 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1359

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So as much as I love Tech and Dogma, I love the idea more that CX-2 is someone else entirely. So, here you have CX-2 being happy with his family. I just needed to take a break from my AU event, I have so many ideas for them, but it's like there's a traffic jam in my brain, I can't get the words to word.

Your knuckles are white as you grip the sleeves of your jacket. You’re very, very stressed. But then, you’ve been stressed for the better part of a year.

Hopefully, now that CX is safe, your stress levels will drop to a more reasonable level. And your medical droid will stop chiding you to practice yoga. That would be nice.

Speaking of said medical droid—

The door to the infirmary slides open and the silver droid hovers out and over to you, “The Patient is awake and aware. There seems to be no lasting damage due to his year-long confinement.”

“So I can see him?” You ask.

“He needs his rest.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The Droid sighs heavily, a very human reaction you can’t help but notice, but then he nods his head. “You brought him food, I take it.”

“Uh, yeah,” You gesture to the small tray of some of CX’s favorite foods. A pasta dish, with some roasted veggies, and a proper dessert.

The droid eyes the food critically, and then nods, “That is all acceptable.” He says, “I am returning to my charging dock.” And then, abruptly, he hovers off.

You watch him fly into another room, and then slowly stand and grab the tray of food. Hopefully, he’ll be happy to see you. It’d be heartbreaking if you went through all of this trouble, and he wasn’t happy to see you.

Lightly, you knock on the door and then press the control to allow the door to slide open when you hear an answer from inside. You step into the room, making sure to shut the door behind you before you focus your attention on him.

He looks…well, he doesn’t look well.

Oh, sure, he’s still the handsome man that you fell in love with. Only he’s lost a lot of weight, his abdominal muscles are clearly defined, not protected by the thin layer of fat that gave him a very pleasant squish. He also has bags under his eyes, and you’re pretty sure that there’s a hint of grey in his dark curls.

But he’s still CX.

Your name falls from his lips, he looks astonished to see you, and then he averts his gaze, as if ashamed of something.

And that just won’t do.

You cross the small room and set the tray of food on an open table, and then you reach out for him, stopping just shy of touching him. “I missed you,” You say, your voice soft.

His dark eyes snap to meet yours, and the smallest smile crosses his face. “I missed you more,” CX replies, his voice slightly raspy, and for once, you believe it.

He reaches up and takes your hands in his and pulls your hands to his face, and you eagerly cup his face, content to feel his warm skin against your hands again. You don’t fight him when his arms snake around your waist and he pulls you as close as he can without pulling you onto the bed.

He buries his face against your chest and just breathes.

You gently card your fingers through his curls, your other hand moving from his cheek to wrap around him, holding him as tightly as you can. Just enjoying him.

You lightly drop a kiss on the top of his head, “I thought you were dead,” You murmur against his hair.

He trembles slightly, “I’m sorry. I never meant to disappear.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You should be.”

“Never.”

He pulls back, and looks up at you, “Cyare,” this time his hands come up to cup your face, “You don’t understand, I’ve hurt so many people—”

“It doesn’t matter.” You reply, “Not to me. You didn’t have a choice, CX. I know that.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

You shush him gently, “We’re going somewhere else. Somewhere where the Empire can’t touch you ever again. You have brothers there.”

CX looks baffled for a moment, “Brothers?”

“I think they called themselves Nil…or null?”

He blinks at you, “We’re staying with the Nulls?”

“Yeah, when I was looking for you, I managed to stumble over them. We’ve been offered a place with them. They have a whole settlement for clones and their families.”

“Even clone assassins?”

“All clones,” You reassure, “What do you think?”

He looks uncertain for a moment, “I suppose we can try it out, and see if it works.” CX finally agrees, and then he pulls you in so he’s able to press his face against your chest again, “cyare?”

“Hm?”

“What scent are you wearing?”

“What scent am I—?” You pause and your face flushes, “Oh, right. I’m not, not really.” You gently push him back and lean in to kiss his forehead, “There’s actually something I need to get for you, I left it in my room.”

CX peers at you, “Can it wait?”

“It’s a surprise. And I think, well hope, that you’ll like it.”

CX watches you for a moment, and you smile at him reassuringly, “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He unwraps his arms from around you, “Alright,”

You beam at him and quickly drop a chaste kiss against his lips before you turn and hurry out of the room. You’re vaguely aware of him sitting up in the medical bed and swinging his legs off the edge as the door slides shut behind you.

You walk the short distance to your room, and don’t bother shutting the door behind you. There’s no need, you’ll only be in here for a moment, after all. You walk around your bed (big enough for you and CX to share), and lean over the much smaller bed, a loving smile crossing your face as you look at the face of your sleeping daughter.

CX’s daughter.

He vanished before you even found out that you were pregnant, so hopefully, she’s a good surprise.

You scoop Eli into your arms, adjusting her weight so she’s comfortably nestled against you, and you head out of the room. The scent that CX asked you about was baby powder, which you seem to always smell like since giving birth to Eli.

You step back into the infirmary, and CX opens his mouth to say something but stops when he sees Eli.

“...cyare?”

You sit on the bed next to him, “This is Eli, she looks like you.” You lightly brush a dark curl off your daughter's forehead, “Luckily, can you imagine if she got stuck with my hair color and your skin tone?”

CX doesn’t say anything, you glance at him and notice that he’s staring at Eli, wide-eyed.

“I found out that I was pregnant 2 weeks after you vanished,” You explain, “She’s 5 months old now. Would you like to hold her?”

“Can I?” He asks, his gaze darting to your face, “Am I allowed?”

“She’s your daughter, you silly man. Here.” You pass the baby over to CX, and adjust his arms so that he’s cradling her properly, “She’s a very calm baby, she doesn’t fuss a lot.”

Cx stares at Eli, mesmerized, “Was the pregnancy easy?”

You shrug, “Unimportant, I had plenty of help.”

“Cyare—”

You smile at him adoringly, “Next time, we’ll do it properly.”

He blinks at you, “Next time?”

“Um, well…if you want a next time.” You correct sheepishly.

You watch as he brushes a finger down Eli’s nose, “I’d like there to be a next time.” CX murmurs, “I can’t believe you gave me a baby.”

“Well, you gave her to me first,” You say with a soft laugh, “I’m just returning the favor.”

He glances at you and a genuine smile, the first one since you’ve been reconnected, crosses his face. “We’re going to be okay,”

“Of course we will.” You lightly lay your head on his shoulder, “We’re going to be better than okay, we’re going to be great.”

You feel him press his head against yours, “I love you,” The words are soft as if he’s not sure he has the right to say them, and you smile.

You turn your head and press a kiss against his bare shoulder, “I love you too, CX.”

#star wars #tbb #cx-2 x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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seenoversundown · 3 months ago

Text

Come Back For Me : Chapter One

Danny Wagner x Melody (Fem OC)

Warnings: Cute wholesome mom & daughter bonding time, the Kiszka Twins, mentions of death/grieving, ASL is used throughout this fic, and a little reminiscing.

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Melody is out with Iris, thinking that they’re just running some errands. Well, that is until some familiar faces from her past abruptly change the course of her day.

Author's Note: AND WERE BACK, BABY!

I’m excited to give you this story and finally get Danny and Mel on the map for everyone. This is a pretty hefty shift from where I last left you— but I think it’ll be a fun change for all of us 😏🤭

*Disclaimer- this story comes before Charlotte exists. There is an order to these stories, but my brain simply couldn’t behave when writing. If you have questions, my DM’s are always open!*

Older - Gracie Abrams "I went quiet, And you went cold, Guess that happened when we got older."

Nothing has changed.

Walking through this Hannaford, all I see are the same employees; the store hasn’t been renovated and it feels like I’ve been transported back to high school. Running through the aisles with the boys, hoping not to get kicked out. It’s shocking the things we got away with then.

Flash forward at least four years later; I’m toting my daughter around to grab a few things that we need for dinner. She’s content in the cart with her little stuffed animal, so I can quickly grab what I need. Thank god, honestly. I’m pretty sure she just enjoys hanging out with me at this point; we’re best friends, in my head at least. She doesn’t really have a choice right now.

Not having a job means that I can come here in the middle of the day when nobody else is here– not that Maine is that busy in general, to be quite honest. After a few years of living on the outskirts of Boston, everywhere feels like a ghost town to me. Not being stuck in ungodly traffic is nice, though, I’ll take the wins where I can get them these days.

Rolling up to the cashier, the lady smiles at Iris and waves. Don’t do it, I think to myself.

“Hi, sweetheart. Do you want a sticker?” And you did it.. Okay.

I tap Iris’s arm lightly, her adorable little face glancing up at me.

‘Do you want a sticker?’ I sign to her. Her smile was enough, but she nodded quickly with a little ‘mmm’ sound.

“She would love one,” I tell the cashier, smiling softly at her. Iris reached out to take it from her and signed ‘Thank you’ back to her. I hesitate but then spit out, “Oh, um, she says thank you.”

“Well, she’s very welcome.”

The rest of the interaction was pretty quiet as she rang us up. I don’t mind when people want to talk to her, but we’re both learning ASL together, so it’s not always easy.

‘Mom wants coffee,’ I tell her as I buckle her into her car seat. She just giggles back at me while I pretend to fall asleep. I don’t know what I did right in order to have a generally happy child, but I thank god every day for it. She loves being out of the house, which bodes well when you’re the only parent.

‘Ready?’ I ask her, peeking in the rearview mirror to see her nodding.

Driving through the Old Port is always weird, knowing these places and how to get there, but not having done so in so long. I missed this. All the brick buildings, the small locally owned stores, and the restaurants, are definitely something I longed for while living in a city.

It only takes a few minutes to get reasonably close to the coffee shop I’ve been craving. Finding parking can be a pain with all the one-way streets but, thankfully, this time of day isn’t terrible. Packing and unpacking my child is one of my many talents at this point— my arms have never been so toned in my life.

She knows just to stand close to me while I lock the car. Once the little honk sound happens, I pull her up to spare myself the outrageously slow walk. Before I can even finish situating her, my heart jumps into my throat.

“Melody?”

I haven’t been back here all that long and somehow haven’t really run into anybody that I would talk to. It was all of two seconds before I turned to see him, but I felt frozen in the moment. I haven’t had to introduce anybody to Iris yet, and I was kind of hoping to avoid it a little longer. My head whips around, not expecting to see him. Josh?

“Oh my god, hi!” Not thinking I would be so excited, I moved a little closer to him, shifting Iris up onto my hip.

His voice sounds the same when he asks, “How are you, dear?”

“Oh, I’m okay,” I tell him, shaking my head subtly. Before I can return the question, I see his mouth ready to fire off another question.

“Who is this?” He gestures to Iris, not getting too close to her yet. I can see her eyeing his hair already, though.

I move some of her curls to make sure her sweet face is visible before telling him, “Her name’s Iris.” She just beams at him. Tapping her belly and then doing a little wave at him, she takes her turn to wave.

I know that Josh loves kids; he always has– probably because he just a big kid himself. His eyes light up when she looks at him and he just coos at her little smile.

“How old is she? Hi, beautiful,” He asks but is immediately distracted by her.

I laugh as I watch him, “She’s three, but she can’t hear you.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “Deaf?”

“Practically, she’s in the severe hearing loss category. We don’t know what happened, but she’s a happy little thing regardless.”

‘Nice to meet you,’ Josh signs slowly to her, making her laugh and lean against my shoulder.

All the thoughts in my head halted as he signed to her. I blankly stared at him for a second before I asked, “You.. know ASL?”

“I was friends with one of the Deaf students in a college class, just picked up on it,” he tells me, with a shrug.

Suddenly, it hits me. There is a whole person attached to him. Quickly looking over to them and spitting out, “I’m sorry– I’m Melody, and you are?”

“Quinn! I didn’t want to interrupt,” they respond sweetly; the smile on them could light up a room. I don’t know how to describe the outfit they’re wearing, but it is very clear to me why them and Josh work together. The two of them just look cute together; I can’t imagine that Quinn wouldn’t be a creative person if they were in a relationship with Josh.

“Ahh, yes! This is my partner! I was caught off guard by the little angel,” Josh chimed back in, looking over to Quinn with a quiet, “Sorry, bug– I haven’t seen Melody since.. Oh goodness, has it actually been four years?”

“Probably,” I sigh. “God, that’s so long?”

He nods, letting out quietly, “It is, it is. When did you move back?”

“It’s a long story, but,” I breathe out. “I just moved in with my dad and this one.”

I had been living in the Boston area for college with my mother. She moved down there when I found out I was pregnant with Iris to help make sure everything went smoothly. It was wonderful getting that time together; nothing prepares you for being a mom, so having mine with me at the beginning was incredibly helpful.

She unfortunately had been sick for a while, and I lost her a few months back. It’s hard to think about, but I’m glad she’s not miserable anymore. Living in Boston as a single mom just became unreasonable. Plus, staying in the area was just making me depressed. So, I came home and moved in with my dad.

He took us in happily– I don’t know who needed it more. The three of us have fun together so I’m sure he’s excited to get some time with Iris, especially now that she’s at a fun age. It’s a different dynamic with him, obviously, but I appreciate the fact that he was so willing to help us out.

“Well, I’m so sorry it’s not the happiest of reasons, but it’s nice to see your face again,” Josh’s hand landing on my arm as he tells me.

“It’s okay,” I say, with a slight smile, so Iris can’t pick up on what’s being said. Chuckling as I tell him, “The worst part is trying to find a fucking job at this point.”

“Oh!” he basically yelps, tapping my arm a few times. “You know what.. Give my boss a call. I think we’re actually hiring.” Winking at me– that’s suspicious.

“That would be amazing?” Surprised that he was so quick to help. I hand him my phone, “Just text me the number, and I’ll call in a little bit.” Watching him happily add his number to my phone and text himself quickly.

“There you go, darling,” he says, handing it back to me. “I’m sure we have something that you could do, but we will let you get going so Miss Iris doesn’t get too antsy!”

Carefully pulling him into a side hug, I whisper, “Thank you so much, really.”

“Anything to help,” he says, his smile beams at Iris as he reaches out to gently give her hand a little squeeze.

“Nice meeting you,” I say, smiling at Quinn. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around!”

They excitedly let out, “Yes you too!!”

Both of them waving at Iris and giggling as she tucks her face against me– she is the biggest flirt known to man I swear. She gives them a small wave back before we start our trek to find coffee. Breathing out more air than I expected, a small smile creeps onto my face. Maybe things will turn around a little quicker than I thought.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

We take our time walking to grab some coffee, looking into all the shop windows as she points out things she likes or thinks are funny. It does not take much to make you laugh when you’re three.

I never thought I would want a child so young, but honestly, she’s probably the best thing that happened to me. Definitely put a lot of things into perspective for me and I feel like I have a better grasp of who I am now.

She makes me laugh all the time, especially because of how friendly she is to everyone. I swear she wants to befriend anyone who holds eye contact for more than a second. Lucky for her, she’s adorable, so people aren’t one to say ‘no’ to that.

She batted her lashes at the nice barista taking our order but got shy when he waved at her. Grabbing my coffee and her snack from the end of the counter, we found a seat outside. She’s three. I can’t let her eat this cookie inside and watch the nice employees sigh when they see how many crumbs are about to hit the ground.

‘Good?’ I ask her.

She just grins up at me, still chewing the bite she took. I’ll take that as a yes. Sipping on my coffee as she picks away at this cookie, just enjoying the sun for a few minutes.

I pulled my phone out and saw a text sitting there.

Josh: Hi! Here’s the boss’s number :) I’ll let him know that you’ll be calling so he knows to keep an eye out for you!

Me: thank you again!

Once she’s about destroyed the cookie, I hold her out and wiggle her around a few times, making her laugh. I do not need more cookie crumbs getting squished into her car seat. Her laugh could brighten anyone’s day; she truly is such a good kid.

Walking a different way back to the car so she can have fun looking at new store windows. It’s a lot of her pointing, and me trying to decipher what she’s pointing at.

Something about the Old Port just makes me feel at home. To be fair, we spent a lot of time in this area, between trying to sneak into bars for local shows and going on dates once Daniel had his license.

He really was such a good boyfriend back in the day. Always giving me rides, even if I told him it wasn’t a big deal. He would take me to different restaurants out here all the time after he started his first job. Parking in the first spot he could find, just as an excuse to have to walk so we could spend more time together.

It’s hard to believe we were so inseparable for so long, and now, I haven’t said a single word to him in at least four years. But it’s okay, really. Times have changed, and I have more important things to worry about now— like how I desperately hope this kid falls asleep on the drive home.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I took the longest way home, and my plan worked. Peeking into my rearview mirror to see her sweet face out cold, thank god. Not that it’s the worst to do things while she’s awake, but when I want to focus on something important, the last thing I need is her trying to get me to play or, even worse, have a meltdown.

Carefully scooping her up out of the car seat, we manage to make it inside with her still asleep. I slip into her room and tuck her into bed so I can hopefully get this phone call done. As I go to leave, I whisper, “Love you, baby.”

Practically falling into the couch, I stare at the texts from Josh. It would really be so helpful if I could work with him. It is very much Josh to do something like this. He has such a pure heart; too much love in that heart of his.

“Just call him,” I whisper, in hopes that I can pep talk myself. You need this for Iris. Everything I do at this point is to make sure she gets the life she deserves; becoming a mom has really shifted a lot of my perspective on things.

Tapping on the number, here goes nothing– I listen to it ring maybe twice before they pick up.

“Hello?”

I take a shallow breath before saying, “Hi, this is Melody. Josh gave me your number because you may be hiring?”

“Mel! Yes, he mentioned bumping into you— how are you?” Why does he sound familiar..? Oh–

“Wait..” I hesitate before asking, “Jake?”

He just hums back a quiet “Mhmm.”

“Oh god, he must have given me your number by accident,” I say with a sigh, my hand immediately rubbing over my face.

He sighs along with me, “Did he not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Ah, for fucks sake, Josh— he works for me,” he tells me.

“Oh?” I squeak out, whispering, “I figured it would end up the other way around, but..doing what?”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” he breathes out. “I own a bar in the Old Port. He bartends for me.”

“Oh shit, sorry,” I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “You would own a bar.” Thinking of the handful of parties I’d attended where he was a bit more drunk than I’m sure he’d like to admit.

“I’m not that wild anymore,” his soft giggle along with me, telling me, “I do absolutely need more help though if you are interested.”

“I don’t really know what I could do, but I am desperate.”

Jake has always been the calmer of the two, so it was less shocking when he asked, “Why don’t you swing by tomorrow if you have a chance, and we can figure something out?”

“Are you sure?” I know I probably sound nervous, but shit, if I can get a job with people I know, that would be amazing.

He chuckles, “Of course, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” I breathe out quietly. “I really appreciate it.”

Jake and I were never particularly close growing up, but I did spend an awful lot of time around him. Well, with all of them, honestly– given that Daniel is best friends with Sam, and Sam always wanted his brothers around, the five of us did a lot together.

Jake was typically overshadowed by his brothers because he was the quieter one, which makes picturing him owning a bar even harder. But I definitely know the other two very well. I was a little surprised at how pleasant Josh was, even going as far as offering me a potential job.

I never had issues with Josh, but given the situation with Daniel, I figured he would have been more hesitant. To be fair, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him, and maybe he’s still the same Josh that I knew growing up. God—I hope he is.

It makes me wonder how Daniel is doing, but not enough to try to reach out to him. We haven’t spoken since the night we broke up, but now that I’m back here, I feel like it’s only a matter of time before I run into him.

“Just let me know when you’re gonna head over,” Jake’s voice brings me back to the conversation. “I’m always in the bar, so whenever you have time, works for me.”

It feels like a weight has been taken off my chest. I nod my head, as if he can see it, saying, “Of course. Thank you so much. I will see you tomorrow.”

The sense of relief, knowing that there’s a chance I’ll have some sort of a job in the next twenty-four hours, is unexplainable. I never thought I would spend time with the Kiszka twins as an adult, but I’ve never been more excited to see them. They were always fun to be around, even if the chaos was a bit overwhelming sometimes. I just can’t shake the feeling that where there’s a Kiszka, Daniel will probably come around. It’s been years; I think I can handle it, even if he does show up at some point. I’d like to believe it’s been enough time since we spoke that we could be adults about everything. Also, it’s been so long at this point; there’s no chance he could still be upset.. Right? I kind of want to see him eventually, not like that, but we spent so much time together that we could at least be friends now.. maybe. There’s no use in dwelling on it; we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Two

CBFM Masterpost | Masterlist | Playlist

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@whereiskeara @gvf-luna @lilbitx @gvfstuddedmajesty @katuschka @chloeshell1219

@scoreofinfantryvines @sanguinebats @anythingforjtk

@brokenbellschipbunkersverion @musicislove3389

@allof--mylove @dyslexicchild13

@nicoleghost18 @monkeylaura627 @fleetingjake

@cheersdannyx2

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moongazeonastarfillednight · 1 year ago

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The Terror: When, How, Where... (PART 1)

See part 2 for the end of my sanity (ep 6 through 9. Wasn't enough characters left on the post for ep 10)

See part 3 (and episode 10)

As I am writing the fic, I was getting frustrated at trying to figure out the timeline of the expedition. More specifically, what happens after they dropped the Victory Point Note.

Therefore, in order to organize my ideas, and also because it might be of interests to some of you, I will document here what I got.

Episode 1 through 5 for now.

Methodology

If we agree that the showrunners (and Dan Simmons to an extent) made their research, we should be able to match some of the event of the story with notable point of interests where artefacts and/or remains were found over the numerous searches made to ascertain the fate of the Franklin Expedition

I also tried to take note of all indications of time passing so that I might document their speed travel and the dates when they are not mentioned.

... And the death count. (Departing Beechey Island with 24 officers and 102 men)

Finally, I also used the following website to keep track of sunrises and sunsets: https://www.timeanddate.com/

1927 Admiralty Map

I may be an amateur in this kind of research but I find myself frustrated that the most complete map I've been able to find showing all that was found between 1850 and 1926 is shown on this map from 1927

To be noted, we now know that the Skeleton of H. Peglar was more probably W. Gibson or T. Armitage

The Skeleton of Lt. Le Vesconte has also been reevaluated and is now believed to be that of Harry Goodsir ( :( )

Also, as it happens, if we compare to 2024 maps, we can say that this is not the actual shape of KWI (close enough!).

Therefore, for my own sanity, I recreated with modern maps. Is it accurate? Well, I wouldn't publish it but I think it gives a good enough view of where they went and where they were going:

Where the Ships had drifted to in June 1847 (According to G. Gore's coordinates left on the Victory point note)

Where the Ships had drifted with the Pack by April 1848 (Victory Point Note)

Victory Point

McClintock's Boat Place (proposed to be same location as NgLJ-1)

Camp with Many skeletons

From D. Simmons' The Terror - The Hospital Camp

Peglar Skeleton

Starvation Cove

A Bunch of cairns in the area

Harry Goodsir

Gjoa Haven (Netsilik Settlement)

Fort Resolution (Dear God... look at how far they wanted to walk/Canoe/make portage...)

Matching the Show

Episode 1 - Go for Broke

Location 1 - David Young's grave (71.22, -96.60)

Date: September 5th 1846

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 14h 57 min

Twilight - 9h 03 min

Sunset: 7:51 PM - Sunrise: 4:55 AM

David Young was buried 7 days before they were beset in the ice (see point 3 on the map below).

During the dinner in which we were regaled by the tale of Mr. Fitzjames' Holes, Franklin discuss that they were approaching a bigger channel, which is now know as the McClintock Channel (see point 1 on the map below), meaning that at the time, they were still in the Franklin Strait.

On the day after his death, Franklin discuss their next course and assure that they must be 'nearly in sight of KW Land'. Crozier suggests it might take them weeks to actually make it to KWI. This would confirm what was infer above.

As we can see the two ships fitting in a cozy little cove while the grave is being dug, I would like to propose Point 4 on the map below as Ficitonal David Young's final resting place, on Tasmania Islands

Location 2 - Ships September 1846 (70.25, -98.00)

Date: September 12th 1846

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 13h 45 min

Twilight - 10h 15 min

Sunset: 7:19 PM - Sunrise: 5:34 AM

Well, for this one, we need to use the extrapolation provided by the 1927's Admiralty map by tracing the line from where the ships were known to be in 1847 and 1848 (Point 5 and 6). (see point 3)

For Future Reference:

Travel Time between Loc 1 and Loc 2 - 7 days

Distance between Loc 1 and Loc 2 :70 NM / 80 Miles / 130 km

Average Travel Speed - 11.4 miles a day

Travel Condition - Ice breaking

DEATH COUNT: 2 + 3 (Total 5)

24 Officers and 100 Men remaining

Episode 2 - Gore

Location 3 - The Ships in 1847 (70.15, -98.30)

Date: May 24th 1847

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h min

Twilight - None

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

Coordinates and Date From the Victory Point Note (see Point 1)

Location 4 - The Cairn (69.66, -98.27)

Date: May 28th 1847

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h min

Twilight - None

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

From the ships, Gore lead his party to James Clark Ross' Cairn.

Now, in the Show, they found JCR's Cairn without an issue. In reality, while Gore had found the Cairn just fine, Crozier and Fitzjames did not. One of the reason for it is that JCR had, apparently, made a miscalculation in reporting where he had erected the Cairn by several miles. Honestly, the way that Fitzjames had written the words was so confusing, I appreciate that the show made the whole thing so much simpler, ahah. So let's say that it matches what we know now as Victory Point. Easy Peasy! (see Point 2)

To be Noted, we know the dates of departure from ships and arrival at cairn from the Victory Point Note.

Location 5 - The Ice Camp (69.665, -98.32)

Date: May 28th 1847

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h min

Twilight - None

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

The Camp was raised just beyond the ice ridge that blocked the way form the shore and the Cairn was only a mile or so away. (see Point 3... hidden between point 2)

Of Note: That hail storm's cloud coverage was intense to say the least... So dark :')

Back to Loc 3 (70.15, -98.30)

Date: June 2nd 1847

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h min

Twilight - None

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

Wednesday is a good day to drink with the Captain :D which makes it the Wednesday following May 28th 1847! So it's June 2nd!

For Future Reference:

Loc 2 to Loc 3

Travel time - 8 months, 12 days or 254 days

Travel Distance: 8.6 NM / 10 miles / 16 km

Average Travel Speed - 0.04 miles a day

Travel Condition - Pack drifting

Loc 3 to Loc 4/5

Travel time - 5 days

Travel Distance: 29 NM / 33.5 miles / 54 km

Average Travel Speed - 6.7 miles a day

Travel Condition - 6 Men hauling Sledge on Ice

Loc 4/5 Back to Loc 3

Travel time - 4 days

Travel Distance: 29 NM / 33.5 miles / 54 km

Average Travel Speed - 8.4 miles a day

Travel Condition - 6 Men hauling ASS and Sledge on Ice

DEATH COUNT: 1 (Total: 6)

23 Officers and 100 Men remaining

Episode 3 - The Ladder

This one is fun because, well... they're not moving! I could point out where Silna ends up but it looks like she remain close enough to the ships that it doesn't matter all that much. So, let's just make note of the date and events:

Location 3 - Ships in June 1847 (70.15, -98.30)

For the duration of the episode:

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h min

Twilight - None

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

Date: between June 2nd and June 10th 1847

- Silna makes her igloo a few miles away from the Ships

Date: June 11th 1847

- Franklin Dies

- Crozier drafts his resignation letter

Date: June 12th 1847

- Franklin's leg is buried :')

- Lieutenant Fairholme is sent to KWI.

DEATH COUNT: 2 (Total: 8)

22 Officers and 99 Men remaining

Episode 4 - Punished, As a Boy

Another fun bottle Episode!

Location 3 - Ships in same approx position as June 1847 (70.15, -98.30)

Date: November 23rd 1847

Nighttime - 12h 35 min

Daylight - None

Twilight - 11h 25min

Sunset: 11:47 am - Sunrise: 10:51 am

- William Strong's birthday :)

- We know because it's the last sunrise of the year!

- Evans and Strong die :(

They searched for a long time if it was just before 4 pm when they got the alarm and then they came back in time for last sunrise at 11 am...

Date: November 24th 1847 to November 25th 1847

Nighttime - 12h 35 min

Daylight - None

Twilight - 11h 25min

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

- Hickey has a communion with Tuunbaq (supposedly next day or so)

- Then Hickey gets evily booped.

DEATH COUNT: 2 + Hickey's postern (Total: 10)

22 Officers and 97 Men remaining

Episode 5 - First Shot the Winner, Lads

More fun in a bottle. These boys are not going far...

Honestly, for this one, the trouble was figuring out how much time had passed. For one, we know it's not yet Christmas because Christmas is, in fact, mentioned in Episode 6 (And Lady Jane's Christmas Pudding, hear hear) as part of the meeting between the officer and there was not yet a cooperation between the Terror Lts and Fitzjames for counting the supplies.

ALSO! That scene where Mr. Wentzell got killed dead over his nail... well, it gave me the feeling that either the review of the crew is not daily or that they've been on Erebus for a short time because 1) Fitzjames doesn't know their names and 2) He has to repeat the instructions about cleanliness... Perhaps they sent the Terrors in waves and not all 50 of them at once.

Other details to be mentionned:

Hickey is not recovered yet and Goodsir suspects he might reopen his wounds from working.

Goodsir has had time to be quite good at speaking inuktitut. Now, he could have had a continuous learning experience from Dr. McDonald since June 47 and before but considering that Dr. McDonald is stationed in Terror and Goodsir in Erebus, I suspect they did not have much time to have a class together...

Finally. Crozier suggests that he would be 2, perhaps, perhaps more... sick from sobering up. He got up just in time for First sunrise (Jan 17th).

So! We can infer that the episode might have spanned over 1 or 2 days (what's with the movement between the ships and the whole Rat Wedding).

My best guess is that the dates for this whole episode would be:

Date: December 14th 1847 to December 18th 1847

Nighttime - 13h 32 min

Daylight - None

Twilight - 11h 28min

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

Why December 14th? Because it would be Edward Little's Birthday and I feel like it is appropriate for his character to have his boss send him back to the killing cold for more booze :') (December 16th to December 20th seems more likely but...)

This would give Crozier a full month to recover from sobering up and 22 days for Goodsir to learn inuktitut (impressive!), for Hickey backside to feel better and for Fitzjames to NOT learn the name of his new Terrors.

DEATH COUNT: 3 + Blanky's leg (Total: 13)

22 Officers and 94 Men remaining

That's it for now. I'll do the last 5 episodes soonish...

Conclusion to the first sets of episode: Sunsets and Sunrises were whacky in June 1847 but, so far, distance and travel times make good sense. If the accuracy holds up until episode 10, we might be able to have a pretty good idea of what, when and where everything happened in episodes 6 through 10.

#The Terror #The Terror AMC #Reference #The Terror Timeline #19th century dead sailors #At least now it's written somewhere that is not 120301923 word files...#Might need later editing #Super duper long post

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mackeralsauce · 20 days ago

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ough not sure if im gonna add more to this or not cause im tired grandpa!!! im tired!!! but this is my attempt at a pre-war map of inkadia and the splatlands so far...

i consider it unfinished because i didn't map *all* of the mountainous terrain out (i mean, nintendo didn't either, but i wanted to go more in-depth), nor did i label the locations of a few particularly notable areas (bluefin depot), nor did i draw the cities (only labelled them with names and brighter color).

Splatlands consists of the Allied Splatlandian Clans (not unified, just allied for now). Hohojiro Territory directly borders the Octarian Shogunate. Hohojiro and Onaga have been fighting for most Splatlandian territory for ages, their borders torn by dispute. Manta serves more as a diplomat between the two, and claims the most important segment for trade purposes. The Anarchy Islands in Anarchy Bay are sort of a no-man's-zone, as Salmonid attacks are commonplace. Onaga's capital is of particular interest because their capital building is Umami Temple (Umami Ruins).

Inkadia consists primarily of the Octarian Shogunate, who had settled prior to the nation of Haven (inkling side pre-war faction). Haven's territory is primarily made up of in-land agricultural stretch (towards Calamari County) and shore-based city. As of pre-war, most of the tide barrier is within Octarian territory, so only the wealthiest of Inkopolis' citizens live in their claim of the barrier. Much of the poorer districts get washed away in drizzle season floods. Contrary to popular belief, the Octarian Shogunate's capital lays close to the sea as well, except they have technological means to diminish the impact of monsoons and floods. A small stretch of Haven's territory bleeds into the Shogunate's borders, as a particularly wealthy family purchased the land at a high sum.

this map probably won't be completely accurate but i tried to take into account Japan's topography, the impact of the floods, the cultures of the particular inkfish nations, etc., so hopefully it's enough to make sense. for any outside observers, this is for my cuttletavio fic, because i'm insane.

#splatoon #splatoon lore #cuttletavio #splatlands #inkadia #great turf war #my stupid insanity over splat lore strkes again #go my worms

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nichknack · 5 months ago

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Wandering Witchbreed Masterpost

A Master Post for my Marvel/Xmen Medieval Fantasy AU focusing primarily on the travels of disgraced knight Sir Logan the Wolverine and the Part-time Jester Wade Wilson.

This AU borrows from a variety of sources, including the comics, movies, and cartoons. Basically whatever I think is cool.

Main tag - #wandering witchbreed AU

Premise -

In a universe that is not-quite that featured in the Sonyverse and The MCU, the feared and disgraced knight known as The Wolverine is sentenced to death for the crime of being a witchbreed. Sent to the pyre by Father Robert Kelly of The Holy Order alongside the part-time jester Wade Wilson. Despite both Witchbreed meeting a seemingly painful end, Logan is shocked when the jester also does not die.

This AU is very much a work in progress and open to change, as I also have plans to encorperate the avengers and various spider-men.

AO3/ FICS

Main Cast -

ⓧ Sir Logan: the Wolverine ⓧ Wade Wilson: That Damned Dead Fool

World Building -

ⓧ Witchbreeds

"Witchbreed" is the term used to refer to mutants. Originally used by Neil G*iman in the series Marvel 1602. While Witchbreeds--like their modern day counterparts--are the next step in human evolution, The Holy Order preaches that they are the spawn of demons and witches. Often, human mothers to witchbreed children are accused of either being witches themselves or allowing Mephisto into their hearts.

ⓧ Map

The world of the AU is very much like our own, with a few distinct differences. While the general 'layout' of the globe remains the same names and climates are not exact one-to-ones.

Current locations of importance include:

- Kingdom of Ventra Where the majority of the story takes place. Name comes from a combination of the Latin words "Ventus" and "Terra", which (roughly) translates to "land of Wind", the direct translation of "America". Made up largely of small towns and hamlets surrounding larger cities, often ruled over by a noble lord or lady. The Holy Order has a lot of sway within the kingdom, preaching anti-witchbreed sentiments throughout the land. In many places being a 'witchbreed' is punishable by death--however there are small towns or groups that act as safe havens for Witchbreed, such as the mining town of Acmeore at the Ventra-Kanata boarder.

- Kingdom of Kanata The home kingdom of both Logan and Wade. Name comes from the Huron-Iroquois word meaning 'village' or 'settlement' (believed to be the origin for the spelling of 'Canada'). While The Holy Order does have a foothold within the kingdom, it is not to the same extent as Ventra. Rumours of the Kanatan spymasters using Witchbreeds to do their bidding have been rife for decades.

-The Rossiia Empire The home of Pitor and Illyana Rasputin. Name comes from a 15th century name used to refer to modern day Russia. Unlike Ventra, Rossiia actively recruits Witchbreeds for combat roles in their military. However, this does not mean that they are widely accepted by the people of the empire as a rule. Due to the sheer size of the empire, treatment of and opinions towards witchbreed differ from territory to territory and even town to town.

ⓧ The Feywood

A realm of magical creatures. The home of most of marvel's alien races.

Factions

ⓧ The Knights of Xavier

ⓧ The Holy Order

ⓧ Sentinels

Divider credit to @sister-lucifer

#marvel #xmen #mcu #logan howlett #wolverine #wade wilson #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadclaws #MCU

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nvthedasmode · 8 months ago

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The Dread Wolf's Grave

Notes:

Very short one-shot fic inspired by the quote; 'They asked "do you love her to death?" I said, "speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life.'

Lavellan's name is Harellan, 'Raven' is Varric's nickname for her.

One of Harellan's nervous habits is rolling coins over her knuckles.

Set sometime during early Veilguard, Solas presumed to be at the Lighthouse rather than in a separate prison.

First ever fic! I am not a writer! I am just a lil guy with a lot of feelings!

And I am so sorry I have no idea how to write Solas and Varric lol.

-----

To say that Varric was uncomfortable was an understatement. It was one thing to ask a dwarf to live on the surface, another thing entirely to ask him to make himself at home in the Fade. Unfortunately, he had little say in the matter. The Veilguard had settled themselves within a deep pocket of the Fade; a safe haven from the blighted elven gods now roaming Thedas, and thus far it had proven to be a wise choice.

Their new home was where he emerged from now, and the morning silence (save for Bellara’s excessive snoring) was a welcome indication that everyone was still fast asleep. Or, at least, everyone but the one elusive elf he was looking for. Once he was confident he had not woken anyone up with his heavy dwarven tread, Varric’s footsteps established a leisurely pace as he descended the stygian steps weaving from the gilded door of the Lighthouse to the shifting island below.

The Dread Wolf’s corner of the Fade expanded before him, shimmering masses of Fade-touched rock floating across the enchanted vista as unhindered wisps of magic soared above him like stars against Kirkwall’s night sky. It was brighter, warmer, but still as commanding as the area of the Fade the fear demon had ruled. Some of the silhouetted islands in the distance would have been large enough to cast a city the size of Starkhaven into complete shadow, and some dipped deeper than even the oldest of thaigs. Smaller rocks housed old and ruined walls, frescos of the fabled wolf glowing faintly from the veilfire sconces and causing him to appear equal parts treacherous and feeble.

The littlest cluster of rocks presented an assortment of ancient elven … trees, Varric assumed. Their metal base gave way to a spherical head that sprouted sharp, golden branches. They wove intricate shapes that moved to shelter a gleaming emerald centre, glinting like fire. This group veered closer to the island he now trudged along, glittering vines with blossoms as large as ponds wrapping themselves around the jagged surfaces and reaching out to grasp their neighbour - a complex walkway of mystic bridges that connected the islands, forming an imposing jungle that served as a shrine to what once was.

Far above him, when he thought to look, Varric could have sworn he could make out the slightest shape of an azure city, light refracting across the landscape as if it was pouring through a window in a Chantry cathedral. The sight was often cloaked in a calculated mist, as though his eyes were intruding on an intimate scene between two lovers - but every time he rubbed his eyes to see it clearer, it had vanished.

Varric had learned that the island he had called home for the past few weeks could shift its appearance depending on his old friend’s mood. While the Lighthouse remained the same, often the Veilguard would wake up to see their interim home had a different garden to explore, each one shaped from Solas’ lonely library of memories. Sometimes there would be luscious fields of green, emerald blades swaying to a song none but they could hear as perfectly round drops of dew dissolved into dazzling specs of light. Other times there were seemingly never-ending pathways; rivers of crystal gems creating a map upon the island, waterfalls replacing cities and curious wisps building toy castles from motes of magic. Once, when Varric awoke in the dead of night (or as close as one could get to that, in the Fade), he peered out his window to see Solas strolling Skyhold’s grounds, his tired eyes never leaving the figures of Cole and the Inquisitor as they helped to soothe a dying woman lying by the campfire, clutching a fatal wound. Had Solas reached out to them, Varric did not know, for he had quickly retreated back to his bed to allow his old friend his privacy.

Today, as Varric disembarked the steps, the soles of his worn boots met an impossibly soft sand that shifted gently beneath his weight. Something resembling seashells dotted the ground, their surface gleaming and moving in a way that made them look more like creatures than collectible souvenirs. Out of baseless paranoia more than respect, Varric carefully picked his way across the fabricated beach to the towering figure in the distance.

Solas stood at the end of the beach, the ripples of the ocean creeping along the sand to stop just shy of the tips of his feet, as though magic itself dare not disturb him. He stood tall, gazing across his domain with an expression befitting his name as the manufactured breeze lifted the ends of his coat. Hands clasped habitually behind his back, a single gold coin rolled lazily across his knuckles, causing tiny spurts of reflected light to shower across his long fingers. Any reasonable dwarf back under the surface might have mistook it for magic.

“Good morning, Varric,” came his familiar voice. He spoke in barely more than a murmur despite Varric still being numerous paces away, yet he heard it as though they were standing next to each other.

“And here I thought it was only Rook who had to listen to your voice inside their head, Chuckles,” Varric shouted back, scowling half-heartedly when he saw Solas’ shoulders betray a small laugh.

Solas patiently waited until Varric had made it to his side before speaking again, finally turning his gaze to his friend with a playful smirk on his lips. “Ir abelas, I did not want to deny you the pleasure.”

Varric let out an indignant snort. “I’m starting to understand why so many dwarves stay below the surface.”

“To avoid speaking with me?”

“Now, now, I didn’t say that.”

“You did not need to,” Solas responded curtly. Varric was glad to see the smile still lingering.

At least he hasn’t lost his sense of humour.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves crashing a few hundred yards ahead of them filling the space. Had he let his mind tune out for a moment, it would not have been unlike the mornings they had spent waking up to the sounds of the Storm Coast - Solas casting a protective barrier over the campfire before the Inquisitor burst into tears at the idea of going a single moment without her tea; Cassandra cursing from the edge of camp as she tried and failed to prove she could in fact approach a nug without scaring it away; Lace and Varric placing bets on how many more days it could rain before they all lost their minds. He wasn’t sure which put his back up more; being surrounded by suffocating grey and rain, slipping on lethal cliffs that never seemed to dry - or being in the Fade.

It was Solas who broke the silence first, as if sensing Varric’s unease. “How are you adjusting?”

Varric shrugged, stalling as he measured his response. It wasn’t in the nature of their relationship to lie to one another (or so I thought, he corrected himself), but he wasn’t about to start tearing apart his friend’s home either.

“I can’t exactly say I’m keen to settle down and start a family here, but I’ll give it to you - it’s impressive.”

“Thank you,” Solas sighed heavily, his eyes focused on something in the distance. “Imagine what it would be like without the Veil.”

“Chuckles, not now.”

“So, when would you propose-”

“I came here to talk to Solas,” Varric said morosely, feeling a pang of regret as Solas’ shoulders stiffened. “Not the Dread Wolf. How about you humour me, just this once? Then I promise we’ll go back to the uncomfortable ‘Child of the Stone’ and ‘Ancient Elven God’ dynamic.”

Solas silently met his eyes then, and the coin in his hands stilled as white knuckles wrapped around it tightly. Just like the painted walls on the islands floating around them, Varric could see his were tall but crumbling. Exhaustion and pain had sunk their bloodied talons into his sharp features, but under the wolf there was still the man. A friend that desperately wanted to get out.

“I’ve never been good at this sort of stuff,” Varric muttered, turning his gaze back toward the ocean, “but you left a lot of people behind. Good people, that missed you.”

“I am not unaware of that, Varric,” Solas replied. Varric could hear the sharpness to the tone, a warning that he should drop the subject immediately.

They both knew he wouldn’t.

“I mean, even Buttercup seemed upset - although she tried her best not to show it. With you gone, Cassandra became her next target for pranks, and we both know pissing off the Seeker is a dangerous choice at best - lethal at worst. I mean, I’m speaking from experience here.”

A quick glance to his right told him Solas was also very pointedly staring out at the ocean again, doing his best to look the picture of disinterest, but the ironclad set of his jaw gave him away. It always had.

“And Ruffles! I thought she would never stop accidentally adding your frilly cakes to the Val Royeaux order list each month. Eventually, me and the Kid-”

“Did you come out here with the intent to torture me, Varric?” Solas snapped, his proud mask melting away to pained anger as he pressed his eyes closed. His nose scrunched as he breathed through it, the waves that stretched before them stuttering and turning a sickly green. “Do you see me as so many of my People do? Do you also think me a heartless monster with no feelings?”

Against his will, Varric’s mind recalled his friend’s broken sobs as she read Sutherland’s reports about the monstrous demon that had plagued Skyhold. Her heart’s deepest regrets ravaging the place they had once called home, the scars of his past forever embedded in the old Inquisition fortress.

“No,” he sighed. “I don’t think that at all, Chuckles.”

Another deep breath from Solas. The water slowly began to settle once more, melting back to a cool, pure cerulean that would have made the painters at Halamshiral turn crimson with embarrassment.

“Then what can I do for you?”

“Remember,” Varric said shortly.

Solas opened his eyes to peer at Varric with confusion, and he could see the purple storm deep within them threatening to pour out and engulf the island they now stood upon.

Silently, Varric nodded to Solas’ hands, still held tightly shut as though he were frightened of dropping whatever was in them. Solas slowly unfurled his fingers, the gold coin nestled innocently in his palm, small dents pressed into his pale skin from clasping it so desperately. The purple storm observed it silently, eyes barely blinking as they stared.

“I saw you playing with it,” Varric said gently, feeling his friend was more a terrified Halla than the dreaded wolf in that moment. “Raven used to do the same thing, when she was nervous. Ruffles had to pry it from her hand when we went to the Winter Palace.”

Solas continued staring at the coin, his expression unreadable. “She gave this to me on the way to the Temple of Mythal,” he said tentatively, as though testing out the words in his mouth. Varric supposed this was the first time he had allowed himself to speak of her in years. “She said she had no need for it any longer, since she had …”

“Since she had your hand to hold,” Varric finished for him. “She said it loud enough for the entire camp to hear.” The memory almost made him smile himself.

A ghost of a smile tried to lift the corners of Solas’ mouth, but it faltered before it even began.

“I remember.”

Varric did smile then. I knew you were still in there, Chuckles.

“Do you still love her?”

There was barely a heartbeat before Solas tore his eyes away from the coin, wrapping his fingers safely around it once more before straightening to his full height and turning to look along the endless sands.

Varric felt the Fade change before he saw it. The sands before them rippled and swirled, floating smoothly into the air to reveal the harsh black rock of the island below. A deep shadow lurked over the area, a stark contrast to the vivid, colourful sky behind it. The sands shifted and formed a familiar image; tall swaths of darkness encircling a small enclave while a suffocating green mist rolled along the floor, catching Varric’s ankles and sending small tendrils up his legs that dissipated as quickly as they appeared. Paltry red spirits skittered around nervously, as if they were constantly running toward - or away from - something.

This was the graveyard from the Fear demon’s lair. Or - more accurately, Varric supposed - Solas’ memory of it.

There was a slight adjustment, however. Only one, solitary gravestone sat in the enclave. The stone it was made from looked sick, brimming with fear and unspoken terrors, its aura almost oppressive.

Varric approached it wordlessly. The words upon it were the same and yet not as he remembered - the elegant, smug carvings of the fear demon were gone, replaced by hurried, almost infantile writing that looked as if it had been carved with a very sharp claw.

‘Solas,’ it read. ‘Dying alone.’

It was only then that Varric saw them. A spectral version of Solas - his friend, Solas - appeared slowly from the darkness, smiling as he offered a gloved hand to the second figure that manifested. Harellan met his smile with her own, eagerly gripping his hand and laughing as he twirled her into his arms. The scarlet spirits, appearing to be calmed by the two newcomers, turned to watch, sweeping closer to the radiant scene that seemed to consume the darkness around it. Varric could hear the faint sound of a band playing from - somewhere? Nowhere? The memory of his friends didn’t seem to care, nor did they notice him or the cruel grave at their feet. They danced and looked at no one but each other, and Varric was irrevocably certain that they would dance forever if the world would let them.

The lonely voice came from behind him then. It was so thick with immeasurable pain that Varric could not bring himself to turn around.

“Speak of her over my grave, Varric,” Solas murmured, “and watch how she brings me back to life."

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