#he could have just done that tree transport thing

[lilislegacy]

um actually grover underwood is the bravest character because when percy and annabeth left for college, they drove from new york to san fran. coast to coast. and grover went with them. this dude willingly went on a long road trip with his two best friends who are in a relationship. you would not catch me dead going on a road trip with just 2 people who are dating. and 18 year olds nonetheless?? oh hell no

remember how every time in cotg when percy and annabeth flirt and kiss, grover gets so uncomfortable? how the FUCK did he enclose himself in a car with them for that long? and yes i KNOW grover is their best friend. and i KNOW he is used to them, and they are all gonna be a close trio forever. but that doesn’t mean that this road trip didn’t include many moments that made him WIDLY uncomfortable. he hasn’t been on a long extended adventure with them since before they started dating. (that we know of.) like… were percy and annabeth making flirtatious jokes with each other during the drive? were they playing love songs? did- did percy horribly belt out the words to cheesy romance songs? oh gods… do they have a song?? also percy and annabeth are so PDA it’s not even funny. they have no subtlety whatsoever. remember when they just, like, fully made out in front of piper in BoO?? (yes, the kiss with annabeth’s grunt-whimpers 🫠)

i just want to know the logistics. like are they stopping at hotels/motels? if so, are grover and percy in one bed/room and annabeth in another? or are they typical teenagers and percy’s going “so, grover, buddy, you wouldn’t mind if annabeth and i took that one, would ya?” same thing if they are camping. what’s the tent situation? are they all in one? either way i feel like percy and annabeth are gonna be sneaking away. are they going on long “walks” together while grover just sits there and chats with the trees? or do they not leave his side, and instead sit there and cuddle and flirt and act absolutely disgustingly adorable while grover is just chilling there like 🧍🏽

they love grover so so much and would NEVER do anything to purposefully make him uncomfortable or feel like a third wheel. but… it’s also percy and annabeth. they kinda have no chill when they’re around each other. zero sensible thoughts happening. it’s pretty much just “wow he/she looks so good right now” all the dam time. and yes, i also know that annabeth mentioned they faced danger on the trip, but that only seems to make percy and annabeth MORE down bad for each other. like remember in tartarus, aka LITERAL HELL, when they were suffering the worse pain and trauma imaginable, and percy’s only thoughts were how annabeth looked like a “hot barbarian princess?” they are literally the worst. i love them for it, but oh my goddess

grover underwood, you are braver than me

[luveline]

Hii! I'm in love with your Hotch adult daughter fics. Could we get one where she is getting bullied in college or where she works and then Hotch finds out somehow and helps her? Please please :)

thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.2k

He decides to surprise you. He’s at risk of embarrassing himself greatly, and he’s okay with that risk. 

Hotch stands outside of the George Washington University and winces in the hot weather. The sun beats down on the back of his neck. He’s more aware of how little sun protection he uses as the time stretches on, waiting for you, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s worn full suits in the Nevada desert. 

You emerge from the main building where your last class for the day takes place. He dropped you off here last week, got to watch you walk in and say hi to the custodian. It was a nice insight of who you are, someone he’s proud to be the father of though he had little hand in what you’ve become. 

Behind you are two female classmates. 

Hotch pauses under the tree he’d taken refuge by. 

He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the rigidity of your shoulders, your hackles rising as they talk. The brunette gets a nasty look on her face, to which you respond, and the blonde’s volume begins to rise. 

The brunette looks like she might reach for you. “Don’t touch me,” you warn. 

Hotch steps in. 

“Hey, excuse me,” he says, loudly and firmly, the Unit Chief tone in play. He’s gotten very good at raising his voice without shouting. “What’s going on here?”

The two women who were talking to you falter, but the brunette stays fiery. “We’re just talking.” 

“About what?” 

“It’s none of your business.” 

“If you’re going to lay your hands on her, it becomes my business,” he says. 

There’s a guilt to the blonde’s expression that proves you’d been thinking correctly and that she was going to touch you, even if it were only to grab your wrist, but she bristles and denies. “We weren’t.” 

“Then you have no reason to stay.” 

You frown deeply. “No, they can finish. Clearly they think it’s important–”

“But do you think it’s important?” Hotch asks you. 

Your frown, your anger beginning to ebb. You take a breath. “I suppose not.” 

Hotch levels the women with a look. Just a look, not interrogative or heated, but prompting —it’s the kind of look he gives people when he wants them to realise they’ve missed their cue to leave. 

“See you next week, then,” the brunette says, a threat he abhors. 

“I’m sure she will,” he says, hoping anything unsaid is felt. He has no idea who they are or what you’ve apparently done to make them angry, but you won’t be intimidated. 

“Do I need to talk with Dean Langley?” he asks, turning to you as the women walk out of hearing range. 

“Aaron.” You look at him, look like him, not in appearance but the pinch to your brow as you rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” 

“What?” 

“They do it to me every time I’m here.” 

“They do?” 

You sound like it’s a chore. “They think I’m sleeping with our professor.” 

“Why would they think that?” 

“Because ever since I stopped working, my grades are much better, n’ they think I cheated my way there.” 

Oh, of course. Hotch tries to do something good by you —he’s started giving you a little chunk of money every week so you don’t have to work anymore, nothing obsequious but enough to cover everything you need, rent and food and transportation, clothes, textbooks, and he made it clear you can ask for more— and it makes things worse for you instead. Still, “Your grades are improving?” 

“I’m doing pretty well,” you confess shyly. 

He holds your shoulder. “I’m sorry they’re jealous, and I’m sorry they’re inventing a narrative to cope. I really can speak with Dean Langley if you need me to.” 

You smile and let yourself lean into his touch. “Inventing a narrative to cope,” you repeat. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that one.” 

You have more fight in you, it seems. “If it gets too much, just let me know. You don’t have to entertain their delusion.” 

“I’ll use that one, too.” 

He laughs, hand sliding behind your back to hug you from the side, his nose briefly pressing to your temple before he gives you space again. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out, are you busy? Let me take you to dinner, celebrate your performance.” 

“You realise I wouldn’t have improved without your help?” you ask. 

“I think any parent in my position should provide for their kid,” he says easily. “It’s not help. Not everyone can support their children through college, but I can, and I wish I had been from the start.” 

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say. 

He nudges you into a walk toward his car. “I owe you more than you realise.” 

He takes you to an early dinner, and celebrates your improving grades with the dessert of your choosing. Conversation with you can sometimes feel strange. It’s hard to think you were a kid once and he’d never met you, but then he realises how young twenty two really is, how you’re still willing, longing for him to be a father to you. You’re smug that he’d go to the dean to for you. You like that he stepped in. And you love being doted on, being encouraged. He can see that easily. 

“When can I come back to see Jack?” you ask eventually. 

He wishes he could say whenever you like, but he has a hard time following Haley’s movements. “I’ll ask. Soon, I promise.”

“He took great care of me.” 

The last time you’d stayed over, Jack acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread (which you are, in Hotch’s eyes). 

“You know, he had a little trouble with bullies last year.” 

“They aren’t bullies,” you say, taking a bashful bite of your ice cream. 

“No, of course not. But he’ll understand, if you want to tell him about it.”

“Aaron, he’s five.” 

“He’s six,” he corrects. 

“Oh, sorry. But still, I don’t think Jack wants to deal with that. I couldn’t unload on him, he’s my… you know, he’s my little brother.” 

“Then tell me about it, at least.” 

“You saw the most of it.” 

He sighs. Wishes you’d call him dad, understands why you don’t, and can’t think of what to do. It was easier when Jack had trouble, because little kids bully each other almost on accident. They don’t know what they’re doing is wrong, having learned the behaviour from their parents. It’s almost never personal. 

Your situation is not the same. 

“I’ll talk to the dean,” he suggests again. 

“Don’t bother. It’s alright. And if it gets worse, I’ll tell you.” 

He smiles, reaching over plates to squeeze your hand briefly. “Thank you.” 

You look down at your food. Some shyness to you still at being cared about. “Thank you,” you mumble. 

[solxamber]

Hi! I love your writing, I'm constantly rereading it, it's so good!! I would like to request a scenario where reader is a very sweet and nice person, always helping others and willing to listen to their problems, but they reach their limit and snap one day at a group of nrc boys who have been harassing them for a long time (up to you if it was malicious teasing or a 'pulling on pigtails' reason for the teasing!). Full on calling them out for their shitty behavior and verbally tearing them down, and drawing a crowd who didn't think this would happen because of reader's usual personality. They have to get pulled away by (separate scenarios) Vil, Leona, and Crewel who helps them calm down and comforts them when they start angry crying. Pre-relationship for Vil and Leona please, maybe they have to deal with the fact they thought reader was super attractive when they were all angry and going off on the NPCs lol. Thanks if you write this one! 🫶

Sweet reader who goes off with Leona, Vil, Crewel

i loved this ask, it was fun to write <3

Leona Kingscholar

Leona had been watching the whole thing from the sidelines, lounging under the shade of a tree. He knew the moment those idiots opened their mouths, things were about to go sideways. What he didn’t expect was for you to completely lose it.

You, the sweet and patient person who always helped others with a smile, were now ripping into the Savanaclaw students like a lion who’d just had its tail stepped on.

“Wow, real original, ‘stealing magicless human’s lunch,’” you sneered, hands on your hips. “What’s next? Pulling my hair? Tripping me in the hallway? You all got your moves straight from a kindergarten bully manual, didn’t you?”

The group of Savanaclaw students blinked in confusion, clearly not expecting the sudden barrage. “W-Well, we’re just... teasing!” one of them stammered.

“Teasing? Is that what you call it?” You leaned in, your voice dropping to a deadly calm. “How about you explain to me why ‘teasing’ always involves targeting the same person over and over again, huh? Or do I have to spell it out for you? You’ve been after me for weeks. If you’ve got a problem, say it.”

Leona stifled a yawn, his ear twitching as he overheard one of the idiots mutter, “Sheesh, we’re just messin’ around ‘cause she’s cute...”

You blinked, clearly having heard that, and turned on your heel. “Excuse me?”

The guy looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh, nothing?”

“Oh no, no, no. You said I’m cute, didn’t you?” Your voice was sweet, but the look in your eyes could melt steel. “You mean to tell me you’ve been pulling my pigtails like some lovesick middle schooler?”

Leona almost choked on his laughter. The guys shifted on their feet, visibly uncomfortable. One of them scratched the back of his neck and muttered, “Well, uh, kinda...”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my god. You’re literally harassing me because you like me?”

The poor guy looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “I mean, I wouldn’t say harass—”

“SHUT UP!” you snapped, throwing your hands in the air. “Are you guys twelve?! Did I get transported into some kind of second-grade drama fest? This isn’t how you flirt! You could’ve just asked me to lunch like a normal person!”

Leona was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. This was too good. His underlings were idiots, but this was a new low.

“And by the way, just so we’re clear,” you continued, “I wouldn’t have said yes! Why? Because I actually have standards. Like, oh I don’t know, not going after people who torment me for weeks on end!”

That finally shut them up. The group shuffled awkwardly, clearly regretting all their life decisions, when Leona finally decided to make his move. He casually strolled over, tail swaying lazily behind him.

“Oi,” he drawled, hands in his pockets. “You done terrorizing my pack yet?”

You turned, eyes still blazing with fury, and Leona had to admit—he’d never seen you look hotter. All riled up, standing there like you were about to take on the entire world. He leaned against a nearby tree, smirking. “You’ve got more bark than most of them combined.”

You pointed at the group with a glare. “Your pack? These idiots have been making my life miserable because they don’t know how to talk to someone they like!”

Leona’s smirk widened, clearly amused. “Is that so?” He cast a glance at the culprits, who were now looking anywhere but at you or him. “Sounds like they could use a lesson in charm.”

One of the guys mumbled, “But we didn’t mean—”

Leona’s eyes narrowed, silencing him immediately. “Run along, or I’ll make you regret it.” His tone was lazy, but the underlying threat was enough to send them scrambling.

As they bolted, you crossed your arms, still fuming. “Unbelievable. They were harassing me because they like me. That’s like pulling pigtails on the playground!”

Leona chuckled, pushing off the tree. “Can’t blame ‘em for trying. You’ve got some fire in you.”

You shot him a look, annoyed. “Are you seriously taking their side?”

“Nah.” Leona tilted his head, studying you. “I’m just sayin’... maybe they’ve got a point.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He stepped closer, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “They’re idiots, sure. But they’re right about one thing—you’re worth the trouble.”

Your face flushed, and before you could fire back, you felt your anger quickly unraveling into something much messier. You tried to blink it away, but your eyes were already starting to sting, and before you knew it, hot tears were spilling over.

“Great,” you muttered, voice shaking. “Now I’m crying. Just perfect.”

Leona’s smirk dropped when he saw your shoulders tremble. He sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Oi, don’t—”

“Don’t tell me not to cry!” you snapped, angry sobs spilling out now. “I’m allowed to cry! I’ve been dealing with this crap for weeks, and it’s not fair! I didn’t do anything to them! I’m just trying to live my life!”

Leona’s eyes softened, clearly caught off guard by your outburst. He hesitated for a second, then stepped closer, carefully placing a hand on your shoulder. “...Alright, alright. I get it.”

You sniffled, wiping furiously at your tears. “They’re so stupid. And mean. And I—I’m so tired of it.”

Leona grunted, his tone a little softer than usual. “They’re idiots, but they won’t bother you again. Trust me.”

You hiccuped, nodding weakly. “I just… I don’t get why they—why would anyone do that?”

Leona scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling awkward. He wasn’t good at comforting people, but damn it, seeing you cry because of those morons made his chest tighten.

With a resigned sigh, he pulled you close, resting his chin on top of your head. “It’s alright, herbivore. You were overdue for that. And anyway, you can use those sharp words on me whenever you want.” His voice dropped, teasing. “I don’t mind.”

You sniffled, half-laughing, half-crying into his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leona smirked. “But you like me anyway.”

Vil Schoenheit

It was common knowledge that Vil paid special attention to you. Whether it was because of your potential or because you had a natural grace, the others were never sure, but it was obvious that the attention he gave you drove some students crazy. Specifically, a group of Pomefiore boys who had made it their life’s mission to be jealous, petty, and downright irritating. And today, you were done pretending you didn’t hear their snide remarks.

“Can’t believe Vil wastes his time with them,” one sneered. “It’s not fair. We actually try, and they just get it handed to them?”

You stopped in your tracks, eyes twitching as their words piled on.

“They’re probably not even trying to look good. Vil’s just playing favorites—”

That’s when you lost it. You whirled around, glaring at them with a ferocity they clearly hadn’t anticipated. “Favorites? Favorites?! Oh, PLEASE. First of all, the only thing Vil is handing out is a reality check, which all of you clearly missed! You think it’s easy working with him? That he just showers me with praise while you’re left to fend for yourselves? NEWSFLASH—Vil’s standards are through the roof, and I’m busting my ass just like everyone else!”

They stammered, taken aback by your outburst, but you weren’t done.

“You all spend so much time being bitter that Vil doesn’t notice you, but guess what? Maybe—just maybe—it’s because you’re too busy whining and not busy enough doing the damn work! You think complaining is gonna magically make you the fairest one of all? Spoiler alert: You’ve got about as much chance as a muddy potato in a beauty pageant!”

The entire courtyard was staring now. You? The sweet, helpful student who always wore a kind smile? Absolutely demolishing a group of boys who deserved every single word you were hurling at them.

“And another thing! The next time you want to insinuate that I’m getting ‘special treatment,’ take a look in the mirror and ask yourself if you are the one who’s too lazy to earn it!”

Vil, who had been silently watching from a distance, felt something stir inside him as he listened to you tear into them. That fire. That passion. That confidence. You were utterly captivating when you were angry. How had he not noticed how striking you were in this moment?

He stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder, his calm presence easing the tension just a little. “Enough, darling. You’ve made your point.”

You blinked, realizing who it was, and the adrenaline started to wear off as your shoulders slumped. “Vil, I…”

“You did well.” His voice was smooth, soothing. “But let’s not waste more energy on them, hm?”

Tears prickled at your eyes as your emotions bubbled over. “It’s just… it’s not fair. I’m trying so hard.”

Vil turned you to face him fully, his eyes soft despite the usual sharpness. “I know you are. And I see it, every day. That’s why I pay attention to you.”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the tenderness in his voice. His hand reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek, and for a moment, you forgot how angry you had been. All you could focus on was how close he was, how his presence seemed to anchor you.

“You’re more beautiful when you’re not holding back,” Vil murmured, almost too quiet for you to hear. But oh, you heard it. Loud and clear.

Divus Crewel

It was the same old song and dance with these students. They couldn’t handle the fact that you were getting along so well with the dorm leaders and staff, so naturally, they decided to take it out on you. You didn’t have magic, you didn’t belong at NRC, blah blah blah—it was all the same garbage, and today, you’d had enough.

“Oh look, the magicless pet is here,” one sneered. “What’d you do to get on their good side? Bribe ‘em? Kiss up to Crewel so he gives you extra points in class?”

You slammed your hands on the nearest table, the sound echoing through the classroom. “Oh, for the love of everything, can you SHUT UP for once in your miserable lives?!”

They blinked at you, shocked. You? Sweet, friendly, always-helpful you? Snapping?

“Bribe the staff?! Really? You’re dumber than I thought, and that’s saying something considering you’ve spent more time scraping by in Crewel’s class than actually passing it! You think I’m getting special treatment? I WORK TWICE AS HARD AS ANY OF YOU, BECAUSE I HAVE TO!”

You were on a roll now, and the more they stared, the angrier you got.

“Newsflash, genius! Being nice to people isn’t ‘kissing up,’ it’s called not being an insufferable little gremlin! Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time actually trying, you wouldn’t be such a failure in every sense of the word! And don’t even get me started on the fact that I—without magic—am somehow doing better than all of you!”

The group was completely stunned into silence, but before you could land another blow, a familiar voice cut through the air.

“Puppy.” Professor Crewel’s tone was firm but gentle. “That’s enough.”

You froze, spinning around to see him standing there, arms crossed, but there was something soft in his eyes. Before you could protest, the adrenaline started to wear off, and all the frustration you had bottled up came spilling out in the form of tears.

Your hands shook as the adrenaline crash hit you hard, and suddenly, the tears started to fall. “I—I’m sorry, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore…”

Crewel stepped forward, his usual sternness softening into something almost paternal. He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “No need to apologize, pup. Those troublemakers had it coming.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But I—I’m supposed to be better than that. I shouldn’t have yelled…”

“Sometimes,” Crewel said, tilting your chin up so you’d look him in the eye, “people need to be put in their place. And you did that perfectly.”

His calm assurance made you break down even more, and before you knew it, you were full-on ugly crying in front of him. He sighed, but not out of exasperation—more like a father who knew his kid had finally reached their limit.

With surprising gentleness, Crewel pulled you into a loose hug. “Let it out. You’ve been holding this in for too long.”

You sobbed into his shoulder, not caring that you were crying all over the crisp white fur of his coat. “I just—They’ve been—”

“I know.” He patted your back, his voice steady. “And they’ll be dealt with. But you need to take care of yourself first.”

You hiccupped, nodding into his coat. “Thanks, Professor.”

Crewel gave you one last reassuring pat before pulling back, his sharp eyes focusing on the group of students still frozen in place, unsure if they should stay or flee. “Now, as for you lot… if I hear even a whisper of disrespect toward my pup again, you’ll wish you were expelled. Do I make myself clear?”

The group scrambled to nod and mutter apologies before scurrying off, tails between their legs.

Once they were gone, Crewel sighed and gently turned you toward the door. “Let’s go get you some tea, pup. You’ll feel better after.”

You sniffled, managing a small smile. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

Masterlist

[room-surprise]

hi! i was wondering if in dunmeshi, before falin was eaten by the dragon and before present events, laios and his party were earning money for k*lling monsters in the dungeon? i don't understand if someone was paying them, how they were making money and how it worked

I want to write a proper, thorough reply to this with citations to specific references and mentions in the story, but uh, a tree fell on my house so I've been a bit too busy to do that lmao.

BUT, to give an incomplete answer:

Yes, adventurers get paid for work they do inside of the dungeon, or, they just harvest monsters/plants/treasure that they find. The dungeons are a kind of boom town, similar to a gold or silver rush, which means that the entire local economy is based on people trying to extract wealth from the dungeon, since it's dangerous but easy work, anyone can try to do it with very little resources, and the potential for profit is huge.

Someone with almost no money could, potentially, go into the dungeon and walk away with enough money to start a business, or buy a house or a boat. If they don't die. If they're lucky. Desperate people cling to the hope that they will be one of the lucky ones who become insanely wealthy.

Based on things Kui's told us in the manga and the extra materials, we know:

You pay a fee or a toll to be allowed to go into the dungeon. Access is controlled by the local government. Some people avoid this, like Senshi and the orcs since they just live in the dungeon and avoid leaving.

Many people die, give up, or fail to accomplish anything useful in the dungeon. These people probably generate a good, steady income for the island, since they pay fees but don't have to be rewarded. The lure of trying to strike it rich keeps huge hoards of people flowing in steadily. Most money in boom towns is generated by all the people who are trying and failing to get rich buying things from local people (food, supplies, lodging).

When a dungeon first appears, it is full of easy to harvest gold and treasure. "Gold peeling" is how Laios and Falin started out, and it's literally going into the dungeon and peeling gold off of the walls and statues, and taking any easy to transport treasure with you.

Various tasks need to be done in the dungeon to keep it safe, clean and accessible, and all of these result in a person either being paid by the lord of the island, or the person who they have saved. Killing dangerous monsters, finding people who have died and taking their corpses to the resurrection office, reporting changes to the dungeon, discovering new paths, etc.

When gold and treasure that is easy to find starts to run out, people turn primarily to harvesting monsters. They are probably paid a bounty for every monster they can prove they killed (bring back some body part that a monster only has one of, like a tail), and then they can also sell anything else they harvested from the monster in the market (meat, the rest of the hide, horns, teeth, claws.)

You want the dungeon to stay safe with a well-managed monster population to prevent something like Utaya from happening.

But if you kill too many monsters, now that the treasure is gone, there won't be any profit reason for people to go into the dungeon anymore, and your economy will collapse.

So you need to manage the dungeon and keep the monster population high, but not too high. This is what the Shadow Lord was complaining about. He thinks that if they evacuate the dungeon the expensive monsters they are currently harvesting may stop manifesting/spawning/being born, and all that will be left to harvest is mushrooms and slimes, which are not worth a lot of money.

Laios' group had an assignment from the island lord to try and find the giant doors on the 6th floor that nobody had been able to get past. That was what they were trying to do when they ran into the red dragon and Falin got eaten!

Despite everything, at that time Laios' party was the number one team on the island, capable of going the deepest into the dungeon.

Kabru's team is also considered pretty good, despite how often we see them dying - this should tell you how bad many of the teams that go in are! Most of them don't accomplish much or anything... Just like a boom town, where most miners go into debt trying to find gold, and only a few strike it rich.

This is what Rin is talking about in her first appearance, when she scolds Kabru for being too modest around other adventurers. She wants those other people to know that they are not going into the dungeon for profit and that they're not like the rest of them, dream-chasing fools hoping to make a payday.

She's offended anyone would mistake them for people like that, meanwhile Kabru would rather keep their motivations obscure and not advertise that they're in the dungeon on a moral crusade, not a financial one.

It should also be noted that the dungeon has a lot of criminal activity going on inside of it, because it's not well monitored and it's easy to conceal your activities. There's also a population of people who can "no longer live on the surface" for various reasons, such as being wanted criminals, exiles hiding to avoid vigilante justice, people too poor to leave because they wasted all their money trying to get rich and now they can't afford to live on the surface, or leave the island.

Essentially there is a population of homeless people living in the dungeon, eating anything they can scavenge, begging and stealing to stay alive. This could even be part of the taboo on eating monsters in the dungeon - that's something poor and desperate people do, and doing it is seen as a sign of how low Laios' party has fallen.

This is also why Kabru is so worried about the Touden party: their financials are a mess, but they keep going into the dungeon. Why? People think they are good, but maybe they're secretly criminals? Are they on the run from the law? Kabru has no idea, since "they just really love monsters and this is fun" is not a motivation ANYONE ELSE ON EARTH HAS.

The Toudens can't even say "we're monster researchers trying to write a book on monsters." They're just hobbyists, they just like them a lot. Kui tells us that Laios was encouraged to become a monster researcher but the studying was too intense for him.

It would be like finding out someone who works in a coal mine that kills 80% of the miners doesn't actually care about being paid, they just loooove coal and want to be around coal all the time.

[bittersw33t-lotus]

Romeo and Juliet

Ghosting series pt. 2

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem! Reader

Cw:mentions of fighting, blood, pregnancy (this is gonna be on the whole series so…), hospital visit, reader is mentioned to listen to rock music :)

A/N thank yall for the love and support, I love yall (platonically of course)😘

part 1 here

part 3 here

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve been living with Stacy and her husband, Jared.

It’s been pretty good, they’ve been kind to you, you been helping around as much as you could, and they’ve been doing a lot to make sure you’re okay and willing to help you with anything.

Jared has been fairly nice and generous. Today is your first check up at the hospital and ultrasound. Jared offered to take you to your appointment, which you accepted since your car battery decided to take a crap right as you returned home from the store the other day, so now you have to wait for it to arrive at the mechanics before you get take it over to get fixed. This leaves you with no independent transportation for at least a week. Luckily Stacy had been able to take you to and from work but today she wasn’t able to take you to your check up due to having to work late. Thankfully, Jared offered to take you to the doctors, to which you gratefully accepted.

On the way there you started some small talk with him. “How long have you and Stacy been together?” You ask him as you watch the trees pass by along with building around the area as he enters the highway.

Jared looks at you for a quick second before focusing back on the road. “Been together for about four years now. Two years since we’ve been married.” He says with a small smile, you’ve seen all the things they’ve done together, so many adventures, dinners, vacations, you would’ve thought they’ve been together for more than that if he hadn’t said anything.

You realize that Stacy seemed to move to marry him pretty quickly, which wasn’t a bad thing, as long as you know that Jared has the best intentions for your sister. It was the same with her last boyfriend, taking any chance she got to up and move in with him at any chance she got.

But you aren’t worried, Jared seems to be a sweetheart, you e seen it over the few weeks you’ve spent here. He always engaged and doing anything around the house he can do. He and Stacy worked like a team. You also saw the way he looked at Stacy like the held all the stars in the sky. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but, you were jealous.

“We’ve been best friends since high school. Of course, she ended up with her boyfriend before I could confess my feelings to her. long story short he tried to have her cut contact with me but with a lot of persuasion she ended up leaving him and we got together in collage shortly after I beat the shit out of him." he chuckled seeming to be a bit ashamed at admitting it, but he wasn’t sorry though.

That took you by surprise, you never expected him be a guy to use violence just by looking at him. He seemed more like a lover than a fighter. Reguardless, you’re glad he stepped in, in any way, just to get that prick away from your sister. "Well, I'm glad Stacy has you. I remember seeing that guy before she moved out and he never gave me a good feeling." You say as the car gets off the freeway on the road that leads stright to the hospital. You can see the street changing to one of a more fancy and modernized road with trees every few feet, fancy black fencing, and lighting.

Jared smiled at you, noticing that your compliment took him by surprise. "Thanks." he says and focusing on driving, a small pause of silence between you two before he speaks up. "If you don't mind me asking, your sister told me a bit about the history between you two and how life was growing up but, how did you meet that guy?" He asks, you feel yourself start to think back on the memories between you and Simon, it was bittersweet and made the strings in your heart tug. "You don't have to tell me; I respect your privacy." Jared is quick to say noticing your face drop a bit.

You shook your head and wave your hand in a unbothered manner. “No, no. It’s alright. I don’t mind.” You say as you look at ahead of you towards the road. “I met him in my freshman year of high school, Simon was a sophomore. I first saw in when he got into a fight, but I didn’t talk to him until a week later when I was put into detention.”

✯Flashback✯

You were making your way to your fourth period, walking through the schools' hallway past others students walking trying to get to their next class. As you're about to turn the corner down the hall, you hear a sudden grunt before a loud metallic bang echos through the hall. A few feet away from you, you see everyone looking in one certain area from the origin of the sound hearing continuos grunts and chatter form other students looking intrigued, shocked and also unbothered with what they saw. You make your way towards the crowd getting a sense of what could be happening which was soon confirmed to be true when you manage to look between the gaps of the crowd to see two guys duke it out. The guy pinned against the locker getting multiple shots of fists to the face you recognized him as Todd Hanes. The renowned senior asshole in school. He always picked and tormented other kids younger, or others who seemed weaker than him.

The other guy punching him had his back turned to you, he had short blonde hair and wore a grey t-shirt that really defined his muscles well. You can see he worked out a lot with the way his bicep flexed as he pinned Todd against the locker. You moved closer to get more of a clear view of the fight and watched as the blonde guy raised his fist and socked Todd square in the face, repeating the action over and over again as your peers around you watching the fight. Todd tried to fight back but to no avail with the fists he received to his face. The students around cheered or reacted verbally to the fight as you heard "ooo's' and a few other words being said as they all watched Todd practically get beaten to a pulp which was much deserved. Todd looked pathetic trying to fight back and ended up shielding his face ultimately giving up on fight back.

it wasn't long before a teacher stepped in and tried to pull the blonde off Todd, whos' face was now battered with his own blood, nosebleed and busted lip dripping blood down his shirt. it took two teachers to pull the blonde off Todd and once they did Todd slid down the locker down to the floor barely conscious and seemingly dazed and confused as everyone stared in shock. You finally got to see the blonde guy's face and immediately, you felt your stomach flutter. He was downright breath taking, his brown eyes look like there was a raging fire in him, he heaved heavy breaths as he stared down Todd, whos' face was all swollen, battered and bloody. Meanwhile he only had a bloody nose.

As weird as it was but looking at him like that really awoken something in you and had your brain go fuzzy with just the image of him. As he was pulled away to what you assume was to the principal's office you watch as the teachers helped walk Todd to the nurse's office supporting him up and walking him over.

After that, you didn’t see the blonde guy. However when you asked your friend about him, they told you his name was Simon, she knew since she had a class with him. But it wasn’t long until you saw him again.

You had gotten Lunch detention for two days, you had gotten the note during you second period after you showed up to your first period late for the hundreth time. You sighed in annoyance and crumble up the paper dreading for your upcoming punishment.

When finalllylunch came by you made you way to the library where lunch detention was being held, where you had to sit there in silence for 15 minutes. Walking through the doors you look around and see how surprisingly full it was, all of the round tables had a few students sitting in every single one of them, all except for the one table in the far corner back. Where you spot Simon sitting at, your heart did a back flip at the sight of his blonde hair that peaked through the hood of his sweater. Seeing that he was the only table with less students, and it would be reasonable to sit at his table instead of the other full ones, you began contemplate on wether you wanted to sit at his table or the table next to him where a group of boys sat, you hardly judged anyone but these guys just by the looks of them seemed to be ones to torment girls just for fun, so the easier option was to sit with Simon.

It was nerve wracking walking into the library seeing so many students in the room, you expected there to be only five but there was almost twenty in here, you feared one little noise could cause everyone to turn and stare at you if you so much as breathed the wrong way.

As you walked and approached the table where Simon sat at you began to notice and take in his appearance, his blonde hair was slicked back, a bandage on his nose, from the fight with Todd, and a bruise, it was odd, it looked to be a fresh bruise on his jawline. It had been over a week since the fight, he wouldn’t have a bruise or to the least bit, just have faint bruising. Did he get into another fight?

Your thought were short circuited when his honey brown eyes move up to meet yours, he stared at you through his blonde lashes. You’re surprised and quickly avert your gaze towards the floor ahead of you before you finally reach the table and pull out the chair adjacent where he sat, sitting down trying your best to make the least amount of noise possible. You can feel his eyes linger on you until he moves his arm out to pick up his pencil and focus on the papers on the table that you assumed was his class work.

You try your best to calm your heart that’s currently beating rapidly, it’s absurd how much he’s had an affect on you just by his appearance and a singular glance he gave you. No way you’re this down bad, you thought.

You quietly settle into your seat and set you bag down before opening it up and pulling out your own homework while you steal a few glances at him, an continue to do so as you “work on your homework,” unaware of how obvious you’re being.

At the end of detention the teacher dismisses everyone as you pack away your papers and pencil back into your binder, slipping the binder in your bag your pencil slipped out and falls to the floor rolling a feet away from you. Before you lean down to pick it up, a hand lowers down and grabs the object, you look up and meet Simon’s eyes as he leans back up and extends his arm out to you with your pencil in hand.

You’re dumbfounded for a second, staring at him like a deer in headlights. You manage to mutter out a ‘Thanks’ before reaching your hand out to grab it from him, trying your best to not show how shakey your hand is. As you grab your pencil you try you best to avoid touching his fingers with yours, but you index finger barely grazed his own before you pulled away and slipped your pencil back in your bag.

“Is there something on my face?” He spoke to you, you couldn’t tell if he was genuinely asking you a question or threatening you right now. You’re taken back by how deep and rough his voice sounded, its wasn’t very deep yet but it sounded like his voice was in the process of getting there.

“Sorry…” You say with a puzzled look on your face.

Simon continued to look at you seeming unfazed. “You kept staring at me, did you need something or you just have a staring problem?” He asks, his voice unchanging from his unfazed tone, along with the blank look in his eyes.

You quickly shake your head and try to think of something, then you remembered how you noticed on his backpack he had set on the table. You saw he had a Misfits keychain hanging on the zipper of his bag so you quickly use that as an excuse. “I noticed you had a misfits keychain on your backpack and thougt it was cool-” You blurt out, you words coming out so fast as you grew nervous, Simon almost couldn’t understand what you said at first.

You see him raise a brow at your response as he looks at his bag that was still on the table, then looks back at you and takes in your appearance, his eyes glazing over your body from head to toe. “You listen to the Misfits?” He asks seeming unconvinced by your words.

You figured he may not believe you possiblywith your outfit and appearance, however he shouldn’t be one to judge, all he was wearing today was a black sweater and jeans. You do listen to rock and metal music, you recently got into it thanks to your friend. So luckily for you, you knew some music and information about the Misfits. You nod your head, “Yeah, I’ve been getting into rock music lately and Misfits were one of the first bands I listened to. They’re pretty good.” You say as a small smile makes its way to your face hoping that he’ll believe you were only looking at his neck packs and definitely not checking him out.

Simon seems like he wanted to say more but shook his head. “Alright then.” He says before grabbing his bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder and walking out the library to wherever it was he was going.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and take notice of how hot your face felt. Crap, you were blushing. He definitely knows you were checking him out!

After that, you suddenly saw him everywhere, you noticed him in your English class, apparently, he’s been in your class this whole time and you never knew, you saw in the halls between passing periods, and of course you saw him again on your second and last day of lunch detention. There were slightly less kids in the library now which meant a couple of tables were empty. When you first entered you expected to see simon already sitting there but you noticed the lack of his presence, you assumed his days in detention were over which made you a bit disappointed. But at least you still got to see him in English class though. As you took your seat at the same table you pull out your essay you were working on for English class, you were almost done with it, just needed to add any finishing touches. Your essay was about the recent book your class read, Romeo and Juliet. The teacher had the class take a theme or idea of what you thought about what the book would be about and how it could relate to readers universally.

As you worked, you had your head looking down and hyper focused on your paper, too busy to see movement around you and a certain figure approaching your table. It wasn't until you heard a thud against the table that made you jump slightly and look up to see Simon at your table setting his bag down on the table before sitting down across from you, you look around and take notice that there were still a couple of empty tables left for him to sit at but he still opted to sit at the table where you were at, why?

Not wanting to overthink and get ahead of yourself, you thought maybe that because he's been in detention longer than you that maybe this was his designated table that he preferred to sit at. He looks at you as he sits in his chair, you look back down at your paper and tried your best to refocus on your essay but much to your dismay Simon was clouding your mind as your mind went into overdrive with him around, and suddenly you began to struggle to write anything.

As you tried to get the cogs in your head to start functioning again, unbeknownst to you, Simon was looking at you, watching how focused you were seeming to struggle a bit as your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. He takes notice of your paper and from what he can see from his view, he can see the noticeable pictures primted on next to the lettering and recognizes the paper to be the latest assignment in their English class. Writing something about Romeo and Juliet. He wondered if he should ask for your help since he saw how you had two pages done, maybe you can help give him an idea of how the story is since he hardly bothered to read the book and get the assignment done, like with all his other classes.

He debates if he should say something to you but ultimately says 'fuck it' and leans in his forearms leaning on the table to whisper to you with ease and not get caught. "You doin' the assignment for English?" He asks you in a whisper, careful not to get caught talking but the librarian was currently too caught up on whatever work she was getting done on her computer and the soft music she played was loud enough to blanket over his whisper.

you look up at him again and stare at him for a second processing what he's said to you. "Oh yeah, I'm just adding some finishing touches before I submit it." You tell him watching his eyes flicker to you and your paper.

"You think you can help me out a bit on mine? Been having some trouble with it. " He asks you as you set down your pencil seeing that you weren't going to write down anything else for now and focus on talking with Simon.

You look at him a bit taken back on the fact he wants your help. This means you get to talk to him more, perfect! "Yeah, would you be okay if we did this once detentions over? I'm not trying to get caught and have to stay here for longer." You tell him as you sneak a glance at the teacher seeing she's still occupied with her computer.

Simon nods and leans back in his chair. "Yeah, sounds good." he tells you. You try your best to fight back the smile that threatened to break through before you nod and look back at your paper completely not bothered to work with your thought clouded with just Simon.

Once detention was over, Simon gets up while you place your items back into your bag. Once you put everything away you see Simon standing there waiting for you, you zip up your bag and sling it over your shoulder and begin to walk towards the exit of the library, Simon following right beside you. “Were did you want to go?” You ask him as you both walk down the hall.

Simon thinks for a moment before pointing to the hallway to the right. “We can head down to the hallway to the band room.” He said as you look down the hall before nodding your head as you both turn right and make your way through the hallway. You figured that hall would be best to study, there’s hardly anyone in there minus the teachers but some kids go there to be alone, away from everyone else. You assume that’s why Simon wanted to go there.

Once you reached the hallway, you both spot a little lounging area at the end of the hall where the elevator was to go upstairs. Walking up to the table you set your things down and take your seats next to each other but Simon and you still kept a good distance from you. You bring out your papers from your bag, Simon doing the same.

Once you both settle and you look at Simon. “So what exactly did you need help with?” You ask him.

“All of it.” He states nonchalantly. “I haven’t really read the story much, just skimmed through a few chapters so I have a slight idea of what is going on but I don’t know what to write about it.” He tell you and keeps his eyes on the paper avoiding looking at you in case he saw the dissatisfied look in your face, he’s a bit worried you’ll think just he’s asking for your help simply to just copy off you.

“Oh well, you basically just choose a theme in the book and write about how you interpret the idea yourself and how it would make readers feel about it as a ‘universal thought.’ ” You explain to him. “So from the little information you’ve gathered from the book, what do you think one of the themes are?” You ask him.

Simon sighed and thought long and hard about it. “From what I knows is that the two are in a forbidden love story, something about family drama between their families. After the death of the two lovers they the family came together.”

You smile and nod at him, “That’s pretty much what the entire story is about. So write about that.” You tell him as you motion to his paper.

Simon nods and writes down a couple of notes to keep in mind. While he was writing he asked you, “What did you write about?”

You look at him and then at your papers. “It might sound a little silly…” You mumble as you avoid his gaze.

Simon raises a brow. “How so? Either way, I’m not one to judge considering I didn’t bother to read the book all the way.”

You glance at him as you fidget with your pencil. “Well, I focused on reincarnation and how cruel the world can be sometimes. The reincarnation part, I was worried the Mr. Jones would tell me not to include it but he told me to keep it, said it would be interesting since some people do believe in reincarnation.” You explain as you see that Simon seems to have his full attention on you, much to your surprise. “So I wrote about how love isn’t always a fairytale love story, life can be cruel and i believe we’ve lived many lives before our current one, our souls are old and our bodies are a temporary thing. Romeo and Juliet never got their happy ending due to some petty drama between her and Romeo’s families that ultimately caused them their happiness and eventually their lives. But I like to think that, reincarnation is a thing, their lifetime may not have been kind to them but maybe their next will be. They’ll find each other again and get to live the life they deserve.” You explain and as you do, Simon listens to every word, he watches you as you explain watching you ramble on about your thoughts of the matter, he watches the way your eyes dart between looking at him and then around the room, you lips moving with every word. Unbeknownst to you and Simon, he was falling in love with you. "I believe soulmates are a thing, Romeo and Juliet are soulmates and soulmates always find their way back to each other in every lifetime, romantic or not everyone has a soulmate." You explain as you glance over your papers.

"How do you know you've found your soulmate?" Simon asks confused on that part.

You then turn to Simon as you both stare at each other for a period of time. “You ever meet someone and within the seconds of your first interaction you feel an immediate connection with them, like being around them just feels… right?” You ask him.

That question made something switch in Simon in his mind as he looks at you. “Yeah… I think I know what you’re talking about.”

✯Flashback end✯

You arrive at the parking lot as you finish telling Jared how you met Simon, of course a shortened version of your story, just the main things. “But yeah, after that day we started hanging out more and more and eventually we began dating a little before I graduated high school.” You tell him as you Finnish up your story, Jared turns the car into the parking lot quickly finding an empty spot.

“He seems different compared to you. I guess opposites really do attract.” Jared chuckled as he sets the car in park and turns off the car.

“You could say that, I guess.” You say, considering your current situation with Simon.

You step out the car and Jared follows behind you as you both enter the hospital building. “I’ll be in here for a bit. You don’t have to stay, you can do your own thing and I’ll let you know when my appointment is over.” You tell him as you close the car door, Jared doing the same.

He shakes his head as you both make your way to the building. “It’s fine. I don’t mind, besides I figured you need as much support as you need.” Jared says giving you a small smile.

You return one back and nod accepting his offer before you turn to the assistant at the desk. “Hi, I’m here to see Dr. Raven for my check up.” You tell the woman as she nods looking up on her computer to check.

“Prenatal check up for y/n l/n?” She asks you as you confirm it with a nod. “Alright, Dr. Raven is currently still with her patient but she should be done in the next ten minutes. Feel free to sit in the waiting room and she’ll be with you shortly.” The assistant smiled at you as you nod back with a smile.

“Thank you.” You mutter as you head over to the lounging area and sit in a chair seeing other woman in the room, some by themselves, some with a relative or another male which you assume may be their partner but you’re not quick to assume. You notice Jared looking a few pamphlets displayed on the wall picking up a couple of pamphlets before sitting down in the chair next to you.

He begins to read one, you can see it’s about baby development, another about how pregnancy affects the woman during and after pregnancy, and the last one for expecting fathers. You’re a little confused on why he’s reading, possibly to pass the time but there are magazines laid out on the little table next to you that he could read. He notices your confusion and points to the pamphlet before speaking. “It’s good to know this stuff, ya know be prepared,” He said as he skimmed over the information.

You him and nod your head. “That’s good.” You reply back as you examine the pictures on the pamphlet.

You can tell there’s something else he wants to say as he takes a deep breath. “Uh… Stacy and I are planing to have kids soon in the near future, kinda thought this would be a good opportunity to read up on this for when the time comes.” He says as you notice his smile becomes wider at the thought of it.

You look at Jared and raise your brow in surprise. “Really? That’s great.” You say as Jared nods continues to smile.

“Thanks. We decided to wait till we settled down, and now that we’re getting there we decided it was time.” He says.

You didn’t think your sister would ever want any kids, you took her as the type to be childfree and live her life being single and on her own. But now that she has Jared by her side, she’s really changed, in a good way of course. “That’s amazing to hear, looks like my baby will have a cousin soon.” You say as you feel your bag vibrate and a chime sounds, opening your bag you fish out your phone and read the screen seeing there’s a message from Stacy.

Stacy: How’s the check up going?

You: Still in the waiting room, just got here but it’s shouldn’t be too long.

You send the message and revive a reply a few seconds later.

Stacy: Oh, well let me know how my little niece or nephew is doing, make sure you follow whatever your doctors says to keep you and the baby healthy. Also when you come back I have a surprise for you ;)

You look at the message a bit confused but smile a bit excited for the surprise.

“Yn.” A voice calls out to you, you look up to see a nurse with a clip board in hand scanning around the waiting room looking for you.

You stand up letting yourself be known, “Right here.” You say with a smile.

The nurse looks at you and offers you a kind smile. “Perfect, Dr. Raven is ready to see you.” She says.

You nod your head and look at Jared, “You okay with waiting out here?” You ask him as he looks up at you and nodded.

“yeah, I’ll be waiting out here.” Jared says and give you a reassuring smile and nod. “Good luck.”

You smile at him before making your way towards the nurse feeling anxious and antsy for some reason. You didn’t know why you felt like this but then again, you’ll be seeing your baby for the first time at least through a screen until the big day you deliver the baby.

As you walk through the halls with the nurse leading you through. You spot a couple in the distance, the woman with a noticeable bump as he husband smiles at her as the walk into a room with his hand around her waist leading her into the room. You feel a emptiness overcome you as you suddenly feel your body grow cold, if you didn’t feel alone before, you definitely felt it right now. You imagine what could’ve been if Simon wanted to stick around, how these visits would be less lonely and filled with more joy then the melancholy feeling you were experiencing right now. He would’ve been able to see your growing baby, see your bump grow bigger over the month before you finally get to meet them and live the rest of your lives as parents.

Thought of your memory with Simon, talking to him about Romeo and Juliet you found it amusing with how your life had played out, almost like the story, life didn’t play out the way you wanted with Simon. Life really can be cruel.

꧁————————꧂

Taglist

@leehoonii-i @blackhawkfanatic @kylies-love-letter @natashamea18 @demonking-69 @thegreyjoyed @nobodycanknoww @andoraamore @leonsgirlie @blarba-girl @going-through-shit @thychuvaluswife @nicolebarnes

[fartistt]

prince charming (?) to the rescue

in which you get lost in a forest after being transported into a strange world

— leona kingscholar x gn!reader

this is sooo unedited i did this at like 3am - 💌

If the situation was any more ridiculous, you would have found it in yourself to laugh. In a world full of magic, there are only a few things that you could deem truly impossible; traversing through worlds was not one of them. A simple book was all it took to burden you with unfamiliarity—a new place, a new sky, and new clothes that paint you as an entirely different person. All your senses were working fine, your memory didn't feel hazy either so really, how could you laugh in this situation?

Being unfamiliar with the whole place was bad enough so it's even worse when you realized you strayed from the path and separated from the group. It was already night and the forest was dark and silent. The only thing you could hear was the occasional crow that was filling your head with unsavory thoughts.

Mindset was the key here. If you panic, then the scarier everything will seem. That's why you should take a deep breath and calm yourself. Be rational. Don't make obvious mistakes. And lastly, stay cautious. Being alone made things worse, you only had yourself to rely on.

Although it was easier said than done. The sound of rocks and branches crushing underneath your feet with every step you took put you on edge. It made you conscious of the fact that you were the only one there and amplified your anxieties. You clenched your fist and bit your lip slightly, trying to calm your beating heart.

“... I wonder if they're looking for me.” Saying those words out loud made you stop in your tracks to think. When you said that, there was actually just one singular person in your head—surely he must have noticed that you were gone, right? As for his reaction… that was something you didn't know. Leona was quite a headache to decipher after all, especially when your more-than-a-little admiration for him made it difficult to think logically around him.

Thump!

You heard something drop down. You held your breath and tried to hide behind a tree from something you couldn't see. What was that strange noise? Was it a fruit dropping? A branch? Is it a person? Or was it an animal? Seriously, you overestimated yourself by convincing yourself that you can get through this rationally. You can already feel the fear taking hold of your fingers and feel them shake at its icy touch.

You really wished that there was someone with you right now. That would at least be a little comforting but you weren't even sure if they ventured in the forest again just to find you. Hopefully it was the lion who does the saving, no matter how far-fetched the notion was but right now you were too preoccupied determining if it was safe for you to come out.

A few more seconds without another sound and you told yourself you could finally start moving again. You let out a sigh of relief and started walking once again.

Crunch!

Ah.

Those are definitely footsteps.

That was the sound of branches and twigs being crushed under feet.

You heard it once, twice, now thrice… It's getting louder.

There was no time to hide. You inhaled sharply and started running through the forest without looking back. You cursed yourself when your feet got stuck on a branch and you felt your whole body losing balance, you stretched your arms in front of you just a few moments before falling to stop yourself falling on your face. You winced at the stinging pain that came with it, the small splinters dug into your palm and the rocks and pebbles scratched your palm.

“Aah, this sucks…” You groaned as you tried to get back on your feet. You stared at your palms, it was bleeding from the scratches and you could tell that it was only a matter of time before the adrenaline would settle and pain would make you bite your lip.

And as if things weren't bad enough, you heard footsteps again. Your eyes widened and your body went stiff. You tried to run again but a sharp pain in your right ankle made you freeze in place. It was a horrible time to realize that you had a sprain—you could no longer run. When you realized that, you closed your eyes as the footsteps approached closer and closer until…

“There you are.”

Huh?

You slowly opened your eyes to take a peek. The next sight you saw was Leona crouching down next to you, his hand finding your calf and slowly making its way near your ankle. Carefully and slowly, he let out a sigh when he turned his sight towards you. Was he seriously annoyed right now?

“Grim told me you ran off when he tried approaching you. Seems like that rascal doesn't have the slightest clue as to why you did.”

“That was Grim?” You let out a sigh of relief. You were glad that it wasn't some unknown otherworldly monster that tried to hunt you down. But the adrenaline soon settled down and you could finally see the situation for what it is—you were injured and the one in front of you was Leona Kingscholar of all people. Call it destiny, fate, or whatever but this was definitely a wish heard by the heavens.

“You should've been more careful.” His tone shifted when he narrowed his eyes. “Look at the state of you.”

“Are you going to scold me or help me? I'm an injured person, you know.”

“Give me a bit more time to be mean to you. I just spent the last two hours looking for you nonstop.”

“Huh? Just you?”

“—And Grim.” He added almost too quickly. “Having everyone jump back into the forest and split up would be dangerous. And I refuse to let that lizard show off.”

“... Pfft.” He shot you a small glare after hearing your giggle. You couldn't help it. It's one of the few moments where you had an idea of what's going through his mind. “We could've avoided this situation entirely if you'd just let Malleus do his thing.”

He turned to look at you and you stared right back at him. A few moments of silence pass until—

“Do you want him to save you instead?” Leona pinched your cheek, visibly annoyed at your words. “You ought to be nicer to the guy you like. Whether you like it or not, I’m the one who came for you.”

“Aah, don't get angry! I didn't mean anything by it.” He didn't reply when he turned his back towards you. You had every part of your mind telling you that he wasn't going to leave; and you were right. He dropped his coat to the ground and crouched in front of you. Oh, so this was definitely—!

“Just shut up already. Let's go back to the others.”

[novelmonger]

I wasn't expecting it to take this long, but after a million distractions, I'm back to going through the LotR audio commentaries and taking note of any interesting tidbits I haven't heard before.

Please enjoy my notes on the RotK design team commentary with Richard Taylor, Tania Rodger, Grant Major, Alan Lee, John Howe, Dan Hennah, and Chris Hennah:

They had to make Deagol's ears out of waterproof gelatin rather than latex because he was going to fall in the water, and the normal latex ears would have come off. I guess they must have done the same any other time a Hobbit got submerged, but they didn't say that.

The fish that Gollum eats at the beginning is made from some kind of edible gelatin so he could actually bite into it. They also had another prop fish that wasn't edible that they gave Andy Serkis to keep at the end XD

The little stone hollow thing where Frodo and Sam are sleeping for their first scene in the movie was a set they built with a removable back wall so they could get a camera in to shoot it from the back as well as the front. Why did I never think of that before?

There were a couple of extra shots they needed of Orthanc in the background to finish up the movie, but they hadn't managed to get the footage from the miniatures (and I guess the miniatures were gone by that point? idk). So they took one of the model collectibles Weta had made and took some photos of it out in the parking lot XD

Whoooooaaaa! Okay, so Alan Lee talks about how, in legends, they say that you have to kill a wizard three times for him to stay dead. And Saruman dies "three times" - first he's stabbed, then he's impaled, then he's drowned. So Saruman is dead dead. Dare I say it? This is...I think this is a better death than the one in the book ._.

They even put carvings on the crossbeams underneath the seats of the chairs in Edoras! You are never ever going to see them, but that was their dedication to making everything feel authentic. That's what sets this apart from so many fantasy movies and shows made these days.

Red in the costumes is meant to suggest royalty. That's why Aragorn, Boromir, Theoden, and Theodred all have red in their costumes - as well as Bilbo and Frodo! You're meant to look at someone wearing red and unconsciously think, "there's something regal about them."

John Howe points out that you probably wouldn't ever reforge a sword like they do with Narsil, at least not in the sense of putting the pieces back together, because it wouldn't be as strong as it was originally. (You could melt it down and start over again, of course.) But, he reminds us, these are the Elves, and it's more of a symbolic thing anyway.

The great hall in Minas Tirith was inspired by Charlemagne's chapel (and Byzantine architecture was one of the main influences on the design of Gondor in general).

The statue of the king in Ithilien was made out of polystyrene, which you would think would be pretty light, but it was so huge it was actually very heavy. They had to transport it to the location in three pieces: the base, the body, and the head. And to lift one on top of each other, they had to rig a sort of pulley system over the limb of a tree, using a four-wheel drive truck to pull it. But they discovered that the first truck wasn't getting enough traction, so they hooked a second truck up to it, and ended up pulling the first truck up into the air along with the statue!

They created fourteen new weapons just to put in the background of the armory in the scene where the Witch-King is getting ready for battle @_@

John Howe said that his inspiration for Minas Morgul was...getting his wisdom teeth pulled??? He describes a metal clamp digging into the perfectly healthy enamel of his tooth to pull it out, and draws a parallel to the metal pieces the orcs fitted to the top of the pristine white parapets, staining and violating them. Um...thanks, I could've done without that visual, John.

I can't believe I never thought about this before, but there's a little wooden roof over the pile of wood for the beacon that Pippin lights. The reasoning behind that is you need some kind of cover to keep the wood more or less dry for when it needs to be lit in an emergency. The beacon will burn away the wooden roof, but it can be replaced easily enough, and it's worth it to be able to quickly light the beacon.

A lot of the saddles they used were ordered from the Indian military, because they had a good, old-fashioned sort of look to them. Then they would add onto the saddles with things that would make them look distinctly Rohirric, rather than Indian.

Alan Lee's daughter worked on some of the figures in the doors of Minas Tirith!

John Howe goes off on this whole tangent about how there's no religion or religious structures in Middle-Earth, and why that might be, but the whole time I was just sitting there going, "...have you never read The Silmarillion????"

Because they had to make over a hundred suits of Gondorian armor, other than the hero suits, they couldn't make each one exactly the right size for the man who would wear it, so the casting department had to only get actors within a certain range of size. They also built the suits of armor with sliding pieces, so they could be somewhat fitted to different sizes.

The horses started out as being part of the art department's responsibility, but as time went on, there were just so many horses they had to keep track of (and the various liveries they would have to be fitted out with) that they had to make a separate horse department to oversee it all.

Because so much of the movie was filmed on-location, in some very remote locations, they had to make a sort of caravan of mobile repair stations that they could take with them. They had all the tools and crew necessary on hand wherever they went so they could repair broken props or ripped costumes, reapply makeup for gore and injuries, take nicks out of the edge of weapons.... It was really like moving an army around!

For the dream where the Evenstar breaks, they made a version of it that was five times bigger than normal, out of a very brittle resin. Then they made an oversized section of the floor and dropped it from a great height so it would completely shatter in a dramatic way like that.

Anduril was John Howe's design. He based it on a sword belonging to a friend of his in Germany, which to him is the ideal sword, the most beautiful sword. He also talked a bit about how Men were taller and bigger in the First and Second Ages, so their swords would have been longer.

John Howe: "Why do people criticize Tolkien for not developing his characters sufficiently? I cannot fathom that kind of criticism. I think it's done by people who don't read between the lines."

Richard Taylor said they had a lot of fun gathering up all the skulls after each take in the Paths of the Dead to put back up at the top so they could be poured down again. Apparently Viggo liked to gather them up and try to throw them at the crew members! "Many hours of skullduggery was to be had," as Richard put it XD

Apparently, they'd made dozens of really finely detailed silicone heads to be lobbed over the wall of Minas Tirith, but then all but one of them were stolen! So they had to quickly put together some crude latex ones to use in the shoot instead (one of which the mayor of Wellington threw). They didn't talk about this, but I'm assuming the one good head that was left is the one that gets a close-up. You have to wonder who out there was sitting around with a bunch of highly realistic latex severed heads in his basement or something....

While most of the siege towers are miniatures or CG, they built the top third of one and put it on tracks so they could move it up against the wall. They built the set with breakable ramparts for when the little drawbridge thing crashes down.

They had the same trouble in Minas Tirith that they did in Helm's Deep, with the battering ram being too heavy for the stunties to lift. But they never actually explained how they got around that problem, if it was the same solution or not :/ All they said was that they had replaceable panels in the doors, in case they were damaged by the battering ram.

In order to make Shelob's webs, they had to heat up two polymers and mix them together to make the stringy, sticky material. In order to mix them, they had to be heated up to 220 degrees C, but if they got up to 228 degrees, they would burst into flame @_@ After they were heated and mixed, they would dribble the mixture on top of a vat of water, where it would cool in spiderweb-like shapes. Then they would lift it out on a frame, and they could carefully place it on the set. One time, the polymers did burst into flame, and they were running out of fire extinguishers to put it out! O.O Eventually, they did call the fire department, who said they'd done everything the fire department would have done. They got the fire put out, but it was a nerve-wracking moment, because the room where they were making the webs was connected to the studio, so it could have been disastrous D:

Bernard Shaw apparently got the idea to do that whole bit where he knocks his sword against the row of spears when he saw the collection of spears all lined up in a row in the art department.

The "oil" that Denethor pours over himself and Faramir is a mixture of glycerin and water. (I always wonder about these things, so I'm really glad they mentioned it.)

When they were filming the pyre scene, they had a silicone dummy for Faramir on the burning pyre. Apparently somebody on the crew brought "David Wenham" a cup of coffee over because they thought he'd fallen asleep on the side of the set, only to discover that it was a dummy! XD

The horse rig they made for close-up work of people on horseback got affectionately nicknamed "the Phony Pony." The first day they brought it on set, Peter Jackson got up on it and "rode" the horse, making the whole crew laugh XD

One of the ideas that Peter Jackson came up with for the mumakil in a brainstorming session (which Richard Taylor says he's still not sure if PJ was serious about or not) was that they could suck up several riders in its trunk and then fire them out like bullets. I'm...really glad they didn't go with that, whether PJ was serious or not <_<

Alan Lee says that the first time he saw the dead mumakil that Weta made for the set, the body was hollow, and some of the crew had set up a TV inside it and were watching a rugby game XD

The last miniature they built for LotR was the Minas Tirith docks where the Corsair ships come in. It kept getting put off until almost the end of the shoot, so they only had five days to put it together! @_@

All of the dead horses are fake, of course, so Weta had to make them all. They were made of lightweight material, so each day you'd see the set dressers just kind of casually carrying in a whole dead horse and then picking one up from the battlefield afterwards like it's no big deal. They had to do a lot of repairs to the dead horses, because the legs and ears kept falling off or getting bent the wrong way XD

The stone Watchers in Cirith Ungol have Maori influence in their design. I wish they'd talked about that in more detail, but it was just mentioned in passing.

They were concerned about the various copies of the One Ring being stolen, so they kept it in a lunchbox that was labeled "Screws."

The scene where Frodo and Sam join the orc convoy was filmed on location up on a mountain, so they had to deal with a whole bunch of extras in extensive prosthetics and armor, which would make them sweat while they were moving around, but then when the camera wasn't rolling, it would be a challenge to keep them warm. The way they did most of the orcs was that they wore a rubber mask and then a helmet, and they would need to take them off at regular intervals so the actors could get some air. So in between takes, after the director called, "Cut!" there would also be a cry of, "Heads off!" That meant the dressers would have to rush into the crowd and quickly take off the extras' helmets and masks XD

Because the crew was committed to not damaging any of the flora and fauna in the places where they were filming, even in the location that became the plains of Mordor that Frodo and Sam struggle across, there were little flowers and moss that they wanted to protect (and it was a national park). So they would lay down carpets on the ground for people to walk on, so they wouldn't damage the plant life. I'm sure that made for a strange sight, Frodo and Sam struggling in tattered clothing over rocks and boulders, surrounded by perfectly ordinary rugs XD

To do the decapitation of the Mouth of Sauron, they had a headless dummy sitting there, and Viggo would swipe his sword where the head should be. Then Weta Digital put in the head afterwards.

The lava in Mount Doom was mostly a miniature (except for the set where Sean and Elijah did their part), made from methyl cellulose and other things to make it look like lava. They set it up on a table that they would tilt so it would flow down around the model boulders made from urethane.

Richard Taylor said that, at that time, no one had really done a very good CG bird, so he was especially pleased at how the eagles turned out.

There were about 400 people working in the art department total, and most of them had never worked in the film industry before! @_@

Ngila Dickson's philosophy for the Elves was that none of their "crowns" or headpieces would go upwards, but would fit close around their heads and then go down. That's one of those things I've subconsciously noticed all these years, but never really thought about before.

Apparently, a little bit of the graphite used on Aragorn's armor in the coronation scene kind of puffed out when he and Arwen go in for their kiss, and got on Arwen's dress D: And some well-meaning person tried to rub it off, but only succeeded in spreading it around further, thus ruining the dress. And most of the female characters only had one copy of each costume, because all except for Eowyn don't see battle and thus don't need different versions with varying amounts of wear and tear. They're just made to wear in one or two scenes of them looking pretty and walking through a room. But alas, that lovely green dress was ruined.

They didn't have much time with Sir Ian Holm, so they only had a week to get a mold of his face and make the old-age prosthetics for the Grey Havens. But then word came down that he didn't want to have prosthetics, so they were to just make him look old with makeup. They were really disappointed, but then on the day, Ian Holm saw the prosthetics sitting off in the corner and asked what it was. When they explained, he said it wasn't true, and insisted on them putting the prosthetics on instead.

One thing that was really impressed upon me during this whole commentary (over all three movies) was just how much love and joy all of the crew had for the project. Sometimes you watch a movie or read a book that really means a lot to you, that's changed your life, and you wonder if the people who made it fully grasp what a beautiful thing they've created. These people know. They were fully aware, from start to finish, that they were making something truly great and worthy of praise. And I think that's beautiful.

[readychilledwine]

Lost Bonds pt 2

Summary - After the second war, an unexpected bond with Y/n Archeron, and repairing all he's lost, Tamlin is shocked with news from the very female Rhys has been protecting from him.

Warnings- cliffhanger because I liked the suspense, angst in a way, unrequited love, one sided fated mates

A/N - I'm going to apologize and ask for forgiveness now. The rest of this is written, but it was uncomfortably long. I broke it into 3 parts, so you all weren't reading a short novella.

Read part one here Pt 3

Winnowing was the stupidest form of transportation, y/n thinks she has ever used. 

She sighed as she walked through the woods she found herself in, praying silently to the void that she was still in the Night Court. 

It definitely did not smell like home, though. The sweet scent of flowers and petrichor surrounded her like a warm embrace. Welcoming her, relaxing her. Her finally clue she was lost came from looking up once more. The trees were blooming. It was late winter in Velaris. Yet here, small pink and white buds covered every tree she could see. They swayed in a soft, rain scented breeze that almost seemed to tingle her skin.

She sighed heavily, playing with the wedding ring and band resting on her left ring finger. She didn't know if Azriel would be proud or upset. She had managed to winnow herself from the Illyrian Steppes to Spring. 

Even new to the world of the fae, she knew that was not an easy thing to do. It explained her exhaustion, the small trickle of blood running down her nose. She continued walking, hoping she would find someone, anyone who may help her. 

Tamlin felt someone enter his court uninvited and shifted to head their way. All the High Lords had just received a message from Rhysand regarding her.

Azriel had evidently been training her with her new powers blooming and suddenly appearing out of nowhere. She had been practicing winnowing, and now they could not find her.

It would have been ridiculous to assume an untrained female had made her way all the way down to the seasonal courts, but after Nesta had shown her hand just a few years ago, and Elain after that, it would not have surprised any of the High Lords at this point. He continued moving closer to the border between his court and the human realm, following where the magic was alerting and then pausing. 

You stood before him, illyrian leathers clinging to every beautiful curve. He shifted with a heavy sigh. “Come. Let's get you to The Manor so Rhysand can come get you.” The look of relief washing over your features tugged at his heart. The bond had not snapped for you, but he didn't need to feel your emotions to know you were afraid and very tired. 

You took his hand, bracing yourself as he tore through the fabric of the world and landed in a garden outside of his repaired estate. “You need food,” he said casually. “We can either go inside so you can eat while you wait for him, or there's a table out here.” 

He wanted to beg you to come inside, to see what he had done, to see what your home should look like. He had imagined for years now a life with you. A life where he heard your laughter every day, where you loved him and he you.

He had rebuilt his home with that life in mind. A grand piano sat centered in a sunroom you'd both use for entertaining. A dais where two thrones sat. Rooms for future children if you want them. He rebuilt the manor with love he had buried away for you. And now he hoped you noticed it, acknowledged it even. You belonged here. You would radiate here.

Aside from showing your body, the black leathers of the Night Court did nothing for you. You needed to be in jewel tones, in light colors. He remembered your skin glowing in the gown at the High Lords meeting. He ignored the pain in his chest as he saw the ring sitting on your finger, the one that matched that dress perfectly.

Blue was a lovely color for you. The silver band was plain as if Azriel had not put much thought into the ring. It was beautiful, but his heart rebroke, knowing it should have been rose gold and diamonds sitting on that finger. 

You motioned inside, wordlessly avoiding eye contact with him. He took you to the dining room where dinner had been waiting for him and grabbed another plate and cup. 

He served you in silence. The familiarity of the situation almost mocked him. “Thank you,” your voice was so soft it had him almost shivering. It had been 6 years since the war ended, 6 years without seeing or hearing it, and it had his soul burning. He yearned for you. His perfect match. 

He nodded. “You're welcome.” He summoned a paper, writing a note to Rhysand and the other High Lords that he had found you and where you had made it to. “Rhys will probably come running, so eat quickly.”

You shook your head. “He's so busy with Nyx lately that he hardly cares what I'm up to. He will send Azriel.” His throat tightened. He'd had to see his mate with her husband. 

Your husband, who was probably worried sick, who probably had been searching as far out as he could. “Then you should definitely eat quickly. Mother knows how desperately he probably wants his wife back home.” Tamlin clocked the way your eyes grew sad, the small frown that formed.

“Yeah. I suppose.” He didn't question that sadness, allowing you whatever space you needed to process it alone.

You were so comfortable next to the male who had ruined everything for you that it was almost laughable. Tamlin, to your shock, was warm. He was being kind. He seemed to know what you needed before you even asked. You had pictured Tamlin as this monster for so long. A cruel male with a heart of stone, but his mere presence had something glowing in your chest, sending warmth through your body.  “I thought the manor was destroyed.”

Tamlin's green eyes looked towards you, spoon held halfway to his mouth. “I had a reason to fix it, along with the whole court.”

You nodded. “It's really pretty.” The walls were lined with Vining floral, marble floors dancing with natural stone veining. Soft green curtains veiled the large floor to ceiling windows. "Elain would love all the flowers. She used to make me work in the gardens with her. I miss it sometimes."

He seemed to blush at the words. “Thank you. And if you truly miss working gardens, there are plenty here that would love attention." Your lips twitched up, but you two fell back into silence.

Tamlin was unsure of what to say to his mate. A piece of parchment appeared beside him, elegant script gracing the page. “Rhys will be here in a moment with Azriel.”

You nodded before caving and asking the question that had been on your mind since you first met the male in his beast form, breaking down the door to the rundown shack you all called home. “What was the significance of killing the wolf?”

He turned to you, brows raised. “Feyre didn't tell you?” You shook your head, staring at the tea you were holding. “I was cursed by one of Hyberns former generals. In short, I had to make a mortal who hated fae enough to kill one fall in love with me in order to break her spell and free the lands. That wolf was one of my closest friends.” The last sentence was barely audible. “Feyre killing him made her the only one who could break the curse.”

As your face fell into confusion, darkness appeared in the manor, gathering in the corner like a void until Azriel and Rhysand stepped out. “Tamlin,” Rhysand greeted smoothly. You couldn't help but to laugh at the High Lord, covered in paint, hair ruffled, eyes tired. “y/n, are you okay?”

You stood nodding, and Azriel moved quickly to you, arms around your waist as he picked you up and held you close. Once he set you down, you turned to Tamlin. “Thank you for sheltering and feeding me and for the invitation to play in your gardens."

“Of course,” he and Rhysand were locked into a stare down, one Rhysand clearly had every intention of winning. “She is unharmed, Rhysand. Just tired and needing rest. You're allowing him to push too hard.” 

Rhys narrowed his eyes, looking to you then back to Tamlin before nodding. “I will consider your opinion. Let's go, y/n. Nyx was distraught when he heard you were missing.”  Any chance Tamlin may have had of convincing you to stay faded instantly. You moved to Rhysand, letting him take your hand and examine your face for any injuries. “Azriel, let's go.”

The shadowsinger nodded and spoke coldly to Tamlin. “Thank you for caring for my wife.”

Tamlin hid a scoff behind his wine and nodded. “It wasn't for your benefit, spymaster.” The two glared hard towards each other before Azriel smirked and walked towards you. 

A feeling of guilt sat in your stomach, lingering there as Rhys began to summon his magic. “Wait,” you pulled your hand away from Rhys and took a step closer to Tamlin. “I'm sorry.”

The Lord of Spring arched a brow feeling the conflict in you from the bond. “For?”

You took a heavy breath, hands shaking as you subconsciously reached for Azriel's hand. You needed his familiarity, possibly his protection. You were about to tell Tamlin something that may have made everything he had gone through feel empty, like his love for your sister had been for nothing. You took a deep breath, looking up and sending a silent prayer to the Mother.

“Feyre didn't kill the wolf," the faces of all three males dropped, the secret finally coming out and being brought to light. “I did."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@impossibelle

[larluce]

Arthur thinks Merlin was raped (but he wasn't)

This is kind of a prequel to this post, click here if you want more context -> LINK

Tagging @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @odinjm , @hssmaureader , @daniella0 , @stressed-but-chill , @smileytrinity

When Arthur finds Merlin in the woods after being lost for 3 weeks, he feels so much joy. He doesn't remember feeling so much joy in his life. Merlin is dirty, his clothes riped and with dry blood, but alive. And that’s all he cares right now.

Arthur: (more than happy and relieved) Merlin! I thought we lost you (goes to him to give him a hug, thinking) That I lost you.

Merlin: (Backs away quickly before Arthur can hug him, wide eye and terrified)

Arthur: (confused) Merlin?

Gwain: Merls, it's us, relax (extends a hand)

Merlin: (shakes his head, frantic, and goes limping to hide behind a tree)

Lancelot: (worried) Merlin... (aproaches carefully) Merlin, it's okay. You're safe now (extends his hand, gently, with a reassuring smile).

Merlin: (shakes his head again and tries to say something but he can't, so he whimpers quietly)

Lancelot: No touching, alright. (Lifts his hands in surrender) No one is going to touch you.

Arthur: (approaches as carefully as Lancelot did) Do you recognise us? (Thinking, begging) Please, say you do.

Merlin: (Nods and tries to speak again, but closes his mouth, frustrated)

Arthur: (realises, heartbroken) You can't speak.

Arthur and the knights can only imagine the horrors Merlin endured. It's obvious he was tortured but they didn't know how much of his new behaviour is result of physical damage or trauma. For example, is Merlin too traumatized to speak or is he physically unable? Did his tortures cut his tonge? Damaged his vocal chords? And what the hell have they done to Merlin to make him so afraid of human touch?

With a lot of reassuring and patience, they manage to bring Merlin back to Camelot. It was difficult not to touch him when he kept limping and falling. And Merlin refused to use a horse for some reason, no matter how much they insisted, so they had to get a cart to transport him. When they finally arrive, they bring him to Gaius immediately so the physician can check him, but Merlin doesn't let him touch him either and he locks himself in his room. It takes days for Gaius to have a formal diagnosis for the king.

Gaius: (reports painfully) He was starved, beaten, cut, whiped and burned several times for what I could see.

Arthur: For what you could see?

Gaius: He wouldn't let me see all the wounds (sighs). He was also immobilized with chains by the wrists, ankles and neck. He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself.

Arthur: (his heart aching for Merlin and burning in fury for the bastards who did this, composes himself just enough to ask again) His voice... did they...did they cut his-

Gaius: No, sire. He's physically able to talk He's just too traumatized to do it. It might take a while for him to talk again.

Arthur: (sighs releaved, but still fill with sorrow) Why? Why would they do this to him? Merlin never hurt anyone, who would want to- (stops when he sees Gaius apprehensive expression) You know something.

Gaius: (hesitantly) Merlin can't speak but he can still write, sire. He... he managed to write me some things.

Arthur: (raises his voice, angry) And you tell me this now?! What did he write?

Gaius: ...

Arthur: (demands) Gaius, I order you to tell me.

Gaius: (sighs) Apparently the bandits that captured him wanted... information sire. To know all the weak spots of the castle... and everything related to you.

Arthur: (open his eyes wide, horrified and devastated, and sinks in a nearby chair) No...

Gaius: He didn't say a thing, sire. You don't have anything to wo-

Arthur: (explodes) I know he didn't! That idiot! He should have told them everything! I wouldn't have blamed him, but of course he didn't. I whish he had (breaks down and cries) This is all my fault.

Gaius: (comforting him, a hand on Arthur's shoulder) This is no one's fault but theirs. You can't prevent every conspiration, attack or attemp murder directed at you. You're the king. It's expected.

Arthur: I should have protected him better, found him sooner. I should-

Gaius: Dwelling on what if scenarios won't help you. And it definitely won't help Merlin. What he needs now is for you to be there for him, be strong for him

So Arthur does just that. When Merlin keeps locking himself in his room and refuses to leave, Arthur visits him at the door and slide pieces of paper through the door crack so Merlin can write the words he can't speak and they can have a small talk at least once a day. Arthur can hear things being thrown and broken constantly and, the first days, Merlin doesn't even pick up the paper. When Merlin finally does, the paper is returned with a short messages along the lines of "Go away", "Leave me alone" to which Arthur reponds firmly he won't, he never will, every single time. Then Merlin's messages turn longer little by little and Arthur's one sided conversations with the door are over.

The day Merlin finally leaves his room and resumes his duties is a blessing as much as it is a curse. Arthur is glad and greatful at Merlin's progress, but seeing him doing his chores silently, just noding or shaking his head when asked something, and without sharing a single smile is painful. Merlin still doesn't let anyone touch him, which everyone respects, but is specially difficult for Arthur since, he realises, he used to manhandle his manservant a lot. They still comunicate through papers when necessary, but is just not the same.

A particular day Merlin almost falls down the stairs and Arthur, forgetting his manservant boundaries for a second, catches him in reflex.

Merlin: (separates from Arthur in full panic mode, screaming) NO!

Arthur: I'm so sorry, Merlin! I didn't mean-wait (open his eyes wide in surprise) You talked?

Merlin: (unsure, repeats) No? (brings a hand to his mouth in surprise and repeats, fearful) No? (his hand goes to his neck, nervous, as if expecting something bad to happen, but then he smiles brightly and shouts, very excited) No!😃 NO!😄

Arthur: (laughs in excitment, so happy he might cry) Your voice is back! You can talk again! (about to go for a hug)

Merlin: (lifts his hands, warnly) No!😠

Arthur: (lifts his hands too, quickly) Right, sorry. (They both lower their hands at the same time) Ahm... Is 'no' the only word you can say?

Merlin: (shrugs)

Arthur: Come one, try something else.

Merlin: (hesitanly) Ar...thur?

Arthur: See? You can talk.

Merlin: (smiles softly, and says fondly) Arthur. (tries to say something more elaborated, but in the end only manages to say again) Arthur. (Purses his lips, frustrated)

Arthur: (smiles at him fondly) One word at a time, don't force yourself. I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's good to hear your annoying voice again. (thinking) And hearing you saying my name and smiling. How much I missed that smile.

After that, Merlin is able to give short answers. First from 1 to 3 words and later one sentence or two. He's also more expressive now with his features, not as much as he was before, but he makes small frowns and gives small smiles from time to time. Arthur craves those moments. Even if Merlin's face contorts in fury because Arthur tried to exclude him from going on trips with him to protect him, or because Arthur doesn't do things like throwing things at him anymore because he believes Merlin's made of cristal. Arthur can’t help feeling happy because Merlin's face is finally wearing some emotion.

Then comes the day Arthur sees Merlin having a nightmare.

Arthur finds Merlin fallen asleep in his bed. Before Arthur would have get mad, but he knows through Gaius that Merlin hasn’t been sleeping well so he lets him. He starts checking his informs when suddenly he hears Merlin crying for help. Arthur runs to him inmediatly.

Merlin: (begs in his sleep, moving and crying desperatly) No! Anything but that, please.

Arthur: (tries to wake him up without touching him) Merlin, it's just a nightmare. Wake up.

Merlin: (doesn’t wake up and cries more painfully) Please! Hurts too much! Please! Stop!

Arthur: Merlin-

Merlin: Arthur! Arthur, I'm here! Please! Arthur!

Arthur: (shouts) Merlin!

Merlin: (wakes up abruptly and checks desperatly his wrists and neck)

Arthur: (comforting him) You are safe. You are in Camelot. You are safe.

Merlin: (wipes his tears and looks around) I fell asleep in your bed. I'm sorry.

Arthur: (smiles) It’s okay. (Wants to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but restrains himself) You were having a nightmare.

Merlin: I... I don't want to talk about it.

Arthur: Alright. But if you ever want to. Just know that I'm here to listen.

Merlin: (Nods in understanding and sighs) I'll get back to work. (Stands up)

Arthur: (complains, but not really) As you should. Those chores aren’t going to make theirselfs, you know?

Merlin: (smiles a little, cause he knows what Arthur is doing) Right away, sire. (Leaves)

After that, Arthur asks Gaius if he knows what Merlin's dream are about exactly, because it seemed there was a especific type of torture Merlin dreaded the most, but while Gaius seems to know, he refuses to tell him, even when he commands him. "It's not my place to tell" It's all physician says. It bugs Arthur the rest of the day. It's not until Arthur leads a trial of a rape victim that devasting realisation hits him.

That girl, that poor girl acts just like Merlin. Not letting anyone touch her, barely speaking. There are marks on her wrists of ropes the inmobilized her while she was... Just like Merlin's chains. "He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself" Gaius had said. Merlin's nightmares. Merlin limping when they found him in the wood. Merlin not wanting to ride on a horse.

Arthur's world crushes all over again. His Merlin, his best friend was raped. Arthur can see his knights came to the same conclusion, because of the devasted expression they have when he meets them in private.

Elyan: (still in denial) It can't be... not Merlin.

Leon: It does make sense though. If none other torture seemed to work...

Percival: And Merlin has always had... very delicate features for a man.

Gwaine: Those sick bastards!

Lancelot: (no quiet believing this theory yet because he knows Merlin has magic to defend himself, but he can't share that so he just stays silent) ...

Arthur: (with deadly and serious expression) As soon as we find them, we'll make them pay. For now I want you to keep taking turns in watching over Merlin.

All knights: Yes, sire!

By month 3, Merlin talks almost as frequently as he did before, maybe with less jokes and smiles, but he's getting there. Arthur is glad some of their usual banter is back.

Merlin: (asks, shyly) Arthur? Could you... it's just I want to try something, but... you don't have to if-

Arthur: (throwing whatever he's doing inmediatly) Of course, anything. Just ask.

Merlin: (blushes a little) Could you... give me your hand?

Arthur: (his heart stops with emotion for a moment, but composes himself) Sure (he extends his hand)

Merlin: (slowly but surely joins their palms and smiles. After a moment, he says relieved to himself) Nothing happened.

Arthur: (joyful at feeling Merlin's touch again, but his heart breaking at Merlin's words) Of course nothing happened. I would never hurt you, Merlin.

Merlin: (smiles a little) I know. (Lets go of Arthur’s hand)

Arthur: (missing his touch already) If you need to... you can ask me to help you again, you know? With the whole touching thing.

Merlin: (surprised) Really?

Arthur: (nods) Whenever you want.

Merlin: (smiles a little) Thank you.

And Arthur finds himself craving those moments too. He always waits for Merlin to initiate the touch. Arthur doesn't risk doing it, fearing he could scare Merlin. So he waits. First Merlin just asks to join their hands from time to time. Then, one blessful day, Merlin tell him is okay to touch his arm or his shoulder like Arthur used to do. Arthur does it gently though, enjoying and appreciating it as he never did before. Arthur feels sense of achievement when Merlin stops tensing at his touch completly, at easy with him again.

Gwaine: (while training, sighs) I miss Merlin's hugs.

Lancelot: (sad) Me too. He's making a great progress with touch though. And he smiles more.

Percival: Remember when he asked me if I could carry him in my back?

Elyan: And you said "I could carry you with a single finger!" And then you picked him up (All the knights except for Arthur, laugh)

Arthur: (suddenly very sternly) stop chatting and get back to training.

Gwaine: Relax, princess. We were just talking about all the times Merlin-

Arthur: (raises his voice, mad) I said get back to training!

Leon: (worried) Are you alright, sire?

Arthur: (harshly) I'm fine.

Gwaine: (realising) Wait... you've never hugged Merlin before?

Arthur: ...

Gwaine: (laughing) Oh, gods! That's what it is. You're jealous!

Lancelot: (warns) Gwaine.

Gwaine: What? Is not my fault mister I'm-too-great-to-show-affection didn't get to hug Merlin before.

Leon: (seeing Arthur's increasinly furious face, warns too) Gwaine, stop.

Gwaine: And he doesn't get to be mad at us just because he'll never get to hug him now.

Arthur: (shouts and launches himself at Gwaine and they start fighting)

The rest of the knights: (try to stop them but is useless).

Arthur: (about to throw the finale punch)

Merlin: (enters the training ground and aproaches, confused) Arthur? Gwaine? What's happening?

Arthur: (gets distracted at Merlin's appearance)

Gwaine: (takes advantage and makes Arthur trip)

Arthur: (Ends with his face in a puddle of mud)

Gwaine:... 😨

Elyan:... 😧

Lancelot:...😓

Percival: ...😰

Leon: ...🤦‍♂️

Merlin: (burst out laughing) OMG! Your face! I can't! 🤣😂

All the knights, specially Arthur: (stunned but mostly mesmerised cause Merlin hasn’t laugh, properly laugh since they found him in the woods and they have missed his beautiful laugh so damn much)

Merlin: (wipes his tears of hapiness) Sorry. I'm done now.

Arthur: (Thinking, almost in panic) No, you aren't! (Turns to Gwaine and orders) Gwaine, give me your face.

Gwaine: What-

Arthur: (smashes mud in his face)

Merlin: (starts laughing again, but not as hard as before)

Lancelot: (understanding what Arthur is doing, thinks) Is not enough. (Makes a ball of mud and throws it at Elyan's face)

Elyan: Hey! 😠

Lancelot: (pointing at Merlin) Look!

Merlin: (is laughing harder)

Percival: (shouts) Mud fight! (And everyone starts throwing mud at each other)

Merlin: (still laughing) What are you doing, you idiots! Now I'll have to wash all your armors!

Arthur: Don't be dull, Merlin! Join us!

Merlin: (giggles) You're worst than children, I swear. (shakes his head but joins the fight)

Arthur's finally got his Merlin back and he'll never lose him again.

[starlightsearches]

Sad wet pathetic Hux… or… Sadistic asshole Hux? 🤭

She Is Mine

Thank you so much for this request, Lena! Sorry it took me so long 😬 I was overcome with horny visions that led to no writing, but sad wet pathetic Hux ultimately won the battle!

AN: Guess who's back? Hopefully nobody else is sick of this arranged marriage AU yet because I'm definitely not! This one's mainly hurt/comfort with some very low lows and some new highs! We've got incredibly jealous and pathetic Hux for your enjoyment uwu. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, my loves!

Armitage tugs at the collar of his dress uniform, restless, wishing he could manage to ignore the crushing emptiness that's threatening to swallow him.

This is hardly the worst slight he's ever experienced. There had been hundreds of embarrassments and affronts to his pride—not even considering the deep aches from his childhood and their lingering stings.

So why is it this one that has him feeling like he's dying?

The answer is there—right in front of him, as it were—but even that is too painful. Armitage can't manage to meet your eyes.

And his hopes had been so high. Only hours ago there had been that singing, almost giddy feeling in his chest as you clung to his arm, walking with him into the glimmering party—the wide-eyed look of wonder and a smile on your face that the sip from his glass of Correlian whiskey only managed to dampen for a moment.

It had been beautiful. Perfect, even. The exact kind of moment he had been waiting for since he first laid eyes on you. The kind of moment that reflected the depth of his feeling.

The kind of moment where he might have the words to express his devotion.

And then there had been that man.

Armitage's vision goes black at the edges, even now, just thinking about the scene—the look on your face when you recognized this old friend, his possessive leering, the mockery in his tone and that sly gaze he'd shared with Armitage just out of your line of sight.

"You wouldn't mind, of course, general, if I stole your wife for just a moment?"

Armitage would mind. He minded very much.

And, still, on the exterior he had remained stoic, gracious even, had watched you walk out those gaping doors into the dim blue of the gardens, another man's hand pressed into the small of your back.

One of the other guests near the bar had called him brave, the mockery in his tone and the snide laughter of the others perfectly communicating that they all, including Armitage, were thinking the exact same thing.

His wife, secluded in the thick, dark branches of drooping trees, sheltered away from prying eyes, her feverish kisses in the darkness and eager, reaching hands.

Your obvious hunger for someone, for anyone, else.

His mouth had bled with the force of his teeth cutting into the meat of his cheek, and he had washed it away with slow, stinging sips of drink after drink.

Off the transport, the heels of your shoes click sharply, echoing in the empty halls and the hollow space behind his eyes, and your hand feels stolid and limp as it clings to his arm, the walls of his hurt and anger keeping you far from him.

The air in his quarters is stifling, and Armitage rips at the fastening of his collar until it snaps, but there's no help, no aid. Just a roiling nausea and the shake in his fingers that can't be quelled.

"Armitage?"

Your hand at his shoulder, voice sweet and ripe with a hurt he can't see. He won't meet your eyes.

"Is something wrong?"

Yes. He drops into a seated position on the plush couch, every line of him weary, every heartbeat a withering ache.

He has to face it. Despite himself, despite the longing and the fierceness and the depth of his need, Armitage knows that he has done you wrong. He has trapped you here, trapped you in this marriage without any real consent and against your will, trapped you in his permanent misery.

And that is something he cannot bear any longer.

Armitage leans heavily on his forearms, propped up by his knees, and rubs the sting from his eyes before meeting your gaze, still stunned, as always, to be in your presence.

"I consider your marital responsibilities to me fulfilled."

Hurt etches every aspect of your features, your steps hesitant before you fall into the space beside him. Your hand reaches for him, fingers trembling, never making contact.

"Armitage, I don't understand."

He swallows, continues, "this union has met the needs of my position and the contract between your father and the First Order, and there is no more I can expect from you. If you wish to find satisfaction for your- your romantic desires elsewhere, with proper discretion, I will not stand in your way."

The hand that had reached for him flashes back, pressed against your lips and there are tears in your eyes, catching the light, shimmering against dark lashes.

Your mouth trembles, unable to form the words you need. Maybe you'll thank him. Maybe you'll never speak to him again.

"Please," you whisper, "I don't- is this about Andres?"

Just hearing the other man's name is like a knife slid into the vulnerable spaces between his ribs, and he reminds himself that this is what he deserves, that it's only a fraction of the pain he must have caused you.

The look in his eyes must be answer enough. You stare at each other in the silence, and he waits for the end.

Your fingers are chill, the feeling unexpected, when they brush against his cheek, smoothing over the the sharp contours of his face. It's a gentle gesture, as if you're wiping away tears he knows are not there.

"Andres is an old friend," you tell him, quiet, kind, and something else he can't puzzle out, "but he is careless with his things, and with people."

That spike of anger returns, for a moment, washing away everything else.

"Was he careless with you?"

Fragments of glitter that dust your skin catch in the light, disappearing and reappearing with each small shake of your head, as if by magic.

"I never let him close enough."

Armitage is close enough, and more aware of it than ever before, tasting the air you breathe, feeling the singing heat of your skin so near to his. But you must know that he is never careless.

You lean into the kiss he presses to your lips, part your mouth and sigh into his deep breaths as he tastes you.

And that same desperation is back, his body pressing yours into the cushions, the solid weight of you here, and for the first time, knowing you want to be.

A hand at your neck, that racing pulse, and your sweet, soft gasps, almost moans at the feeling of him.

Armitage finds himself sinking, once again, beneath that light-headed fear—that shaking, disorienting spark of your touch.

He wants to run from it. And he wants to stay.

"Do you want me to stop now?" He breathes the question against your lips, meets your eyes and finds them burning with your own hidden desires.

"No," you promise with the shake of your head, "never."

Oh.

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Once upon a time, a man turned himself into a demon for the sake of his husband's soul. It's been a long time since then.

-

Demons don't really need to sleep, but Roier likes to do it, anyway. It's relaxing, and it reminds him of better times back when he was human and his husband wasn't... well.

Well.

Jaiden doesn't get it, but that's because she's never known what dreams are. Because demons don't sleep and, unlike Roier, she was born a demon. Her and Bobby both were, leaving Roier as the odd one out.

...That's fine! Their loss! Because sleep? Great. Dreams? Even better.

Because, in Roier's dreams, he sees him.

-

(They're in bed, because that was Roier's favorite place to be. He's on his back with his husband laying next to him tracing patterns into his shirt with one finger. Rain patters on the ceiling, and some leaks through into the kitchen and lands in a pot placed conspicuously in the middle of the floor. Their blankets are warm, and so are their hearts.)

-

Roier has been married for almost 500 years. His husband has been dead for 499 of those years, give or take a few months.

They were never legally married; that just wasn't something you did back then. Didn't matter, though, because they wouldn't have been able to afford a wedding even if they could get married.

They were farmers- well, Roier was a farmer. His husband just liked sitting and watching Roier work shirtless in the fields. He'd sit with a pitcher of water waiting by his side should Roier need it, and he'd watch shamelessly for hours at a time, and he was horrible.

And now he's dead.

-

But, see, the first thing Roier asked when arriving in Hell was whether or not the Devil was cool with gay marriage.

"Uh," said Jaiden- and this was their first real conversation post-demoning, okay? So she obviously wasn't as cool as she is now. "Maybe? I don't know. I'd have to ask?"

"Could you?" Roier had asked, freshly deceased and still bleeding from the temples where his horns had just finished growing in. "I'm expecting my husband."

"Right," Jaiden tensely replied. "Your husband."

"Yeah," Roier said, and he tried saying his husband's name, but it just. Wouldn't... what was it again?

-

But that's fine, being a demon is a pretty sweet gig. All Roier has to do is go up to the Mortal Realm and do a few jobs for a few witches, corrupt a few souls. In return, he gets badass magical abilities and immortality.

More importantly, he gets his husband's soul. As soon as he reincarnates back in the Mortal Realm, and as soon as he dies again, he goes to Hell with all of the memories from his previous life with Roier intact, and they finally get their happily ever after.

It's what he would've wanted. Hell might sound terrible, but it's no worse than the Mortal Realm, and its public transportation is actually better, somehow. The busses all run on time, and the subway is free.

More importantly, Roier's husband was the one collecting all those books on summoning demons and making deals with demons and communing with the Devil. Roier just... completed his work for him.

It's the least he could've done, and it was his last chance at seeing him again.

-

Fuck, but what was his name?

-

(They're in the fields, because that was Roier's husband's favorite place to be. Roier is shirtless and bent over a row of seeds that are going to grow up to be corn in a few months, and his husband is on the ground under the apple tree watching him shamelessly. It's sunny out, and there's the smell of smoke in the air.)

-

It's been 500 years since Roier's husband died, and Roier has spent that time trying to remember the name of his husband's killer.

Because, once upon a time, there was a farmer, and there was a witch. Ah, but witches were illegal, you see. They communed with the Devil, and they brought chaos into a world of order.

All Roier remembers is that the person who tied his husband to that pole was in all-white. Not a priest, just someone boring.

That same person was the one who lit the straw at Roier's husband's feet on fire. And they smiled doing so even as Roier dove towards the flames as if he could put them out with his bare hands.

It didn't work. Big surprise there.

-

"So the Devil's fine with you two getting married," Jaiden said after a few days of dealing with demonic bureaucracy, "but I have some bad news for you."

Roier, for the first time since Jaiden slit his throat and converted him, felt fear.

"What is it?" he asked.

She let out a breath, slow, and said, eventually, "Your husband's soul isn't here. He isn't in Heaven, either. Or in any of the other gods' realms."

Roier blinked. "What."

It was not a question.

She threw up her hands. "I don't know! It's like he just... disappeared!"

"Is that why I can't remember his name?" Roier asked. "His soul is fucking gone?"

His hands shook. Jaiden reached out and took them.

"We'll find him," she promised, kind despite her whole 'Is A Demon' thing. "Even if it takes five hundred years."

"Yeah, well, it won't," he scoffed. "I'm going to find him. He promised me a wedding."

-

Souls don't just die. They go to someplace that Roier has only ever heard of: Purgatory.

Once in Purgatory, souls get judged by the Eye of Justice. He asks them questions about their life, and they have to answer truthfully, or he'll feed them to his children.

There are a few options for what comes next.

One: they pass the Eye of Justice's judgement and are allowed to move on to whatever afterlife they believe in.

Two: they pass the Eye of Justice's judgement and are allowed to reincarnate into another life.

Three: they fail the Eye of Justice's judgement and are forcibly sent to reincarnate into the life of a bug or a blade of grass or something else boring and tortuous.

Roier got to skip out on Purgatory entirely because he took the direct line to Hell. But maybe, just maybe, if he had died regularly, he could have seen his husband in Purgatory, and they could have reincarnated together.

...Ugh. Hindsight is a bitch.

-

(Roier is visiting his grandfather when the church bells ring.

"A witch!" he hears a woman scream, and his stomach fell right into his shoes.)

-

It's been 500 years, and Roier has gotten a bit of a reputation among modern witches for being one of the easier demons to work with. He'll help with their problems in exchange for information on a certain lost soul: if they hear from his husband's soul, they summon Roier. Or he'll help in exchange for some book recommendations for his son; Hell has many things, but it does not have a public library.

He isn't a particularly strong demon despite what his only angel friend, Etoiles, might say. Etoiles is just a silly little guy, don't listen to him!

-

(He never even got to say goodbye. They locked eyes as the flames rose, and Roier screamed his name one last time, and he hasn't been able to feel anything since.)

-

Jaiden was the first demon that Roier had ever met.

He was on the floor surrounded by the ashes that used to be his home. His husband's books were in charred tatters around him, but one managed to survive the fire. It was almost supernatural, but, like, yeah. Demon book, of course it was fireproof.

He was bleeding. He had offered his blood, and his soul, to the demon in exchange for his husband's life back.

She sat on the floor with him.

"I can't do that," she gently told him. "Demons can do a lot of things, but we can't perform miracles."

Roier's throat burned: smoke inhalation and grief.

"Oh," he said, small-sounding.

"But I can get his soul to Hell," she offered. "In exchange... you have to go to Hell."

His answer was immediate: "Yes."

She blinked. "I wasn't finished?"

"The answer is still 'Yes'. As long as I'm with him again, I don't care what happens to me."

"You'll have to turn your life over to Satan. You can't just go to Hell. That isn't how it works."

Roier shrugged. "That's fine."

Jaiden gawked for a moment before nodding and standing and extending her hand.

He took it.

And then he died.

-

But it's been 500 fucking years, and now Roier is being summoned by another witch for another deal. He'll probably have to help supply additional magic for some big important spell, that's basically all he's used for these days. He's more than a battery, thanks! He's a demon, he should be out, like, stealing souls and shit.

He goes, anyway, because he has to. If he doesn't, his contract is void, and he won't get to see his husband because he himself will be sent to Purgatory to be judged and, really, he does not want to deal with that. (The Eye of Judgement is fucking creepy, okay?)

There's the familiar pull at Roier's core, and the familiar blinding burst of light as he's yanked into the Mortal Realm, and the familiar smell of brimstone and evil that follows him wherever he goes outside of Hell.

The room is filled with blood red smoke as he appears- his trademark.

(The most important thing to a demon these days isn't evil, it's marketability.)

The witch in front of him, nothing more than a shadow hidden behind the smoke, coughs and wheezes and fans their hand in front of their face.

They're kneeled on the ground in front of a pentagram drawn in... what the fuck is this, strawberry jam?

Roier crouches and sticks a finger into one of the circle's markings. Careful not to break the circle, he pulls his finger out and licks the red stuff on it.

Shocked, he looks at the witch, and he asks, "Dude, what the fuck? Is this blood?"

What happened to chalk!?

The witch coughs at him indignantly. "I needed to make sure I got someone powerful."

Roier rolls his eyes and plops fully onto the ground, criss-cross applesauce. He wipes his blood-covered fingertip on his jeans. Newbies...

"Well, you got me," he says, humble to the core. (He may be a super evil demon now, but he isn't a dick.) "So... what's up? What do you need?"

The smoke in the room slowly starts dissipating, revealing the witch to be a man in what have to be the previous day's clothes. His head is still ducked, and his face is still hidden in his elbow as he coughs, but Roier could almost call him objectively handsome. Shame Roier's married, this guy would be fun to mess around with.

"I need to- fuck-"

The witch coughs one last time before finally managing to get a lungful of clean air. He raises his head, and Roier finally gets a look at his face, and-

"I need your help," the witch says, voice rough and rugged and absolutely heartbreaking. "I need to kill someone, and I need your help to do it."

"Okay," Roier agrees. He doesn't have a choice, being a summoned demon and all, but he doesn't think he could turn this witch down at all, because...

-

("Cellbit!" Roier screams.

He can see his face in his husband's glassy eyes, and then he sees nothing but the flames as they rise over Cellbit's head and drown him whole.)

-

The man with his husband's face frowns, suspicious.

"What," he asks, "just like that?"

Roier grins, fangs and all. "Just like that."

After all, he doesn't think he'll need any payment for this one.

He's finally found what he's been looking for.

[suuuupernovaaa]

asap si

‘ASAP SI [English] to be shocked, be startled

Adult Neteyam returns home to find you’ve grown into a beautiful woman, and you’ve been keeping a secret from him all these years.

18+   |   1,177 words

My hands had begun growing tired, the joints in my fingers aching, but I still had a little time before my parents were expecting me home, and I could finish just a little bit more here at the mother loom.

Li’ei and Zoavey had been generous to allow me not only to use the mother loom, but to teach me. Between them, they possessed over 100 years of experience creating tapestries and cloths for our clan, and they were both held in very high regard for what they provided to our people.

“Y/N,” Li’ei chastised the next time I sighed under my breath, “go home. We must all rest.”

I sighed once more, feeling the thick, coarse fabric between my fingers. “I feel as though the job will never be done.”

Zoavey tsk’d at me. “It does not matter how long it takes - only that you do the job properly.” 

Standing up, I nodded at the two elders. “Thank you for your time today. May I return tomorrow?”

Li’ei smiled. “Yes, darling.” I felt compelled to ask every day, even though they had made it clear they were training me so that I could take their place when the day came.

Touching my forehead and lowering my hand, I signed my respect to my elders, who had so graciously taken me under their wing, and quickly turned on my heel to make my way through our village back to my parents’ home.

--

The closer I got to the center of our village, to my home, the louder things seemed to be. It’s was always quite busy at this time of day, but this seemed to be something else; a commotion, almost.

As I neared the epicenter of home tree, my parents rushed to me, almost out of nowhere.

“Y/N!” my mother gasped, wide eyed. “Jakesully and his family have returned.”

The tools I was carrying fell from my hands, clattering on the ground. I should have bent and grabbed them, pay them the respect they deserve, but I am frozen to the ground.

Neteyam is home.

Suddenly, I am transported to five years ago. Once again, I felt Neteyam gripping my arms too tightly as he told me his family was leaving, and he didn’t know if they would return. He left, with so much left unsaid between us.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, and I forced them away.

“Where are they?” I asked  finally, after a long pause that I knew my mother noticed.

She gestured to the fires, around which we cooked and ate our meals. I saw it then, the large crowd gathering, almost too large to push my way through - but I knew I had to try.

“Sorry, excuse me, sorry,” I repeated over and over as I wormed my way through the throng of bodies here to see Taruk Maktow and his family.

It’s was hard to believe it had been 5 years. After the Sky People left and Jakesully and his family didn’t return, we weren’t sure what to think - maybe they had died in battle, or found another clan they wanted to stay with instead.

I never gave up hope... but it was hard some days, especially with Ueku nearly relentlessly pursuing me the last two years to be his mate. 

Ueku was one of the most desired of The People, our strongest hunter, and everyone was staring to look at me as if I had two tails - they could not figure out why I would not agree to be his.

And it felt so dumb to explain that it was because of a crush I’d had when I was fifteen, on someone I hadn’t seen since then. 

It took much effort, but I finally made it to the front of the crowd, and saw them standing there.

Oh, they looked so different. All four children were taller, the boys had much broader chests and Kiri and Tuk had grown into lovely young women. I wanted to cry and rush forward to greet them, but they were being bombarded with welcome greetings.

I stood back, staring, and finally allowed myself to really look at Neteyam. His hair was longer now, halfway down his back and braided intricately, woven through with many beads and fine weaves. He was taller, as tall as his father, with strong shoulders and a wide, firm chest.

The sight of him made me feel light headed. I closed my eyes, and took a steadying, deep breathing. 

“Y/N!”

--

Tuk called her name, and Neteyam snapped his head to see where his youngest sister was looking. Since the moment they’d arrived, his only thought was to find Y/N, his oldest and best friend.

Tuk took off from next to him, rushing towards a woman in the crowd who was almost unrecognizable. This beautiful woman lifted Tuk up in her arms effortlessly and hugged her tightly.

She was an angel. Her hair was impossibly long, and she wore a woven crown around her face to keep it out of her eyes. Her leggings were green, and he could tell the care and effort that went into making them. Tucked into them were various tools for use on the loom. 

She looked tired, but her amber eyes were wide and full of joy. His eyes trailed down to her smile, ear to ear as she excitedly talked to his sister, her full lips spread across white teeth. 

Ewya, was this Y/N?

Tuk was pulling her towards him now. He lifted his foot to take a step forward, but before he even moved an inch, Lo’ak had her in his arms.

“Y/N!” he shouted excitedly. 

“Oh, Lo’ak!” she exclaimed, returning his hug enthusiastically. It made a quiet rage bloom in Neteyam’s chest, and he shoved it down quickly.

“Wow!” Lo’ak exclaimed, taking a step back, and Neteyam stepped up beside him. Lo’ak threw his elbow forcefully into Neteyam’s side.

Neteyam winced and grabbed his ribs as Lo’ak said, “Y/N sure grew up, didn’t she?”

“Well, we all did, Lo’ak. It’s been five years!” Y/N replied with a soft smile. Even though she was speaking, the beauty of her voice sounded like a song to Neteyam’s ears.

Neteyam raised his hand to his head, touching his fingers to his forehead, and lowered it as he took a step towards Y/N. “Y/N...” he said, but after all these years, words failed him.

He had spent countless nights thinking of Y/N, but never had he imagined her to have such an effect on him when he was finally able to stand in front of her. His mouth felt dry, and his heart was beating out of his chest.

“Neteyam,” Y/N said, returning the gesture. “I’ve missed you.”

She threw her arms around his shoulders, and after only a moment, he wrapped his around her waist. She even smelled lovely, like fresh tapestry and earth, and he took a deep breath.

He would savor this moment forever.

--

It was a while before I could get Neteyam alone, but I was determined. Something about the look of shock on his face when he first saw me gave me hope.

Had he been missing me too?

After we ate and the excitement began to die down a little as the singing began, I grabbed Neteyam and pulled him from the crowd, into the jungle.

We walked in silence for a while, until I found a familiar spot to sit. It was a large fallen tree next to a small pool of water. We could sit and dangle our legs, our toes just dipping in to the small pool.

“I missed you, Neteyam,” I said finally. Though I had been shy when Neteyam left, five years had made me bold. It felt as if I had to tell him how I felt, or I might stop breathing. “I thought of you often.”

Neteyam smiled, and though much about him had changed, his smile had not. “I missed you as well, Y/N. Lo’ak had to tell me I was not allowed to speak of you anymore... but I still did.”

I glanced away for a moment. “It’s been a long time. You might have... you might have found yourself a woman, while you were gone. I, uh, Ueku has asked me to be his woman, but I-”

Neteyam cut me off. “Ueku! Bah!”

I grabbed his arm, trying not to laugh at the disgusted look on his face. “I told him I would not. Well, that I could not. Neteyam, I have been yours since you left. I wanted to tell you, but you left so fast, I could not.”

His look of anger softened, and his eyes widened in surprise. “You would be my woman, Y/N?”

My lips spread into a wide smile. “I would.” My heart felt as if it might leap out of my chest, and my fingers trembled. I clasped my hands together to steady them.

Neteyam reached over and took my hands into his.

“I have thought of almost nothing but returning and claiming you for my own, since we left. Y/N, you have become more beautiful that I ever could have imagined, and one of our people’s most prized women. I would be honored to have you as my mate.”

The stars swam in front of my eyes, and I reached up and pulled Neteyam’s face to mine, capturing him in a kiss I had waited five years for.

He wasted no time, and lifted me up into his lap so that I was straddling him as he deepened the kiss.

“Teyam,” I moaned into his mouth.

“Paskalin,” he replied in a breathy voice, pulling me even closer to him. His hands roamed my body, up and down my back, and I pushed down onto him, creating friction between us that made him groan into my mouth.

He was kissing me desperately, feverishly, as if we would have to part for another five years after this.

I was equally as desperate as I pushed him back onto the mossy tree, and lay on top of him, stopping to look at him for just a moment.

“I should have come back sooner,” he said with a sly grin, and I laughed.

Leaning down, I pressed my head to his chest to hear his heartbeat - it was quick, to match mine.

“We have all the time we need now,” I whispered, and he wrapped me in a tight hug.

“I will never let you go again,” he whispered, his voice full of determination and reverence.

I believed him.

[sufferu]

I was asked for a snippet from the Dogshow series. I have delivered. As the exact scene was not specified, I decided for myself.

Dogshow: No Way Home

____

[“But no matter how pathetic I was, you and Mom still treated me the same as always,” Subaru said. “That’s what scared me most of all…”]

“They…” Emilia choked out. “They really did…They really did love him, didn’t they…?”

Otto thought of his own parents, and how patient they had been with him for all those years. He swallowed, fighting back tears.

“Those bushes there really are fascinating!” Anastasia was saying loudly. “They look just like some of the foliage we have back here, don’t they?! I wonder if maybe there’s been some cross-barrier transport of — of seeds or something! Or perhaps it’s just the convergent evolution Hoshin once described at work—”

[“I wanted you to say, ‘I don’t love you.’ ‘I despise you.’ ‘You’re not my son.’”]

“…What?” Ram croaked. Rem watched silently from beside her, carefully stone-faced as she watched this tragedy unfold. “Subaru, you wanted…what?”

Subaru didn’t answer. He had stopped moving a while ago. He was staring at the metia, unable to look away from his father’s face.

“I mean, really!” Anastasia continued loudly, a frantic edge to her voice. Mimi was nodding along theatrically from beside her. “I wonder if we could cross-breed exact replicas of those — what did you call them, Subaru?! Sakura trees?! If those bushes’ similarities really are just the result of convergent evolution, then—! I mean, I know for a fact we have trees very similar to those sakuras in Kararagi, so it’s not all that far off to conclude that we might be able to—!”

[“I wanted you to tell me that and throw me out. I wanted you to make me give up.”]

“…Oh, fuck,” Anastasia managed, finally unable to avoid listening to the conversation.

Next to her, Julius made a horrible, horrible noise.

Onscreen, Subaru continued to speak about how he had grown past these feelings. How he had found a way to live for himself, to start striving to better himself — and how the people he had met since had allowed him to do so. But Ricardo couldn’t focus on any of that, because all he could think was that THIS was the version of Subaru that his parents remembered.

A young boy, on the cusp of their culture’s idea of adulthood, who had suddenly retreated into his shell amidst disapproval from his peers. Who’s difficulties in interacting with others HADN’T been due to a difference in culture after all, with him struggling so much to make and keep his friends even back home that eventually he had felt that he had no choice but to give up in that pursuit entirely. Who had fled from his duties as a scholar and holed himself up in his room, refusing to leave for any reason except to eat. Who was constantly waiting for his two parents who loved him very much to revoke that affection out of frustration and throw him out.

Who was just waiting for an excuse to go and end himself, giving up for good.

Ricardo suddenly thought about Ana-bo. He wasn’t her biological father, but he had — he had bathed her, and fed her, and secured her work, and fought to protect her from unsavory types, and watched her grow up from a little orphan brat into a strong, capable woman. He had known her, and he had loved her, and she had become — family, to him, most definitely. In a sense, perhaps she could be considered his daughter after all.

What would he have done, if Ana-bo had — sometime on the cusp of adulthood — had withdrawn into herself so completely and utterly that she refused to socialize with anyone unless she were forced to do so? That she no longer tried to work, or learn new things, or improve her skills, but instead escaped into storybook after storybook about being whisked away to a place where she could be someone, anyone other than who she had been before? That she curled up in the corner of her room and waited for Ricardo to throw her out on the street, because then she would finally have an excuse to — to finally go and fucking kill herself?

Stop it, Ricardo hissed at himself. But he couldn’t stop.

He wouldn’t have let it get that first in the first place, first of all: he would have dragged Anastasia out of her room by force and force-fed her a decent lifestyle, if need be. In fact, part of him thought that Subaru’s father had been somewhat useless in that regard: had there really been nothing his old man could do to stop him from crawling into his shell and refusing to come out for several months on end? But even if there wasn’t anything he could do about it, he wouldn’t have abandoned her. Even if he were going by Kararagi’s age of adulthood being 15 where — Japan, it was called — their age appeared to be 18, he still would have known her for four, five full years, and that had been more than enough for him to start caring about her more deeply than he had ever expected being able to care about anyone. What would he have done instead? Well, the answer had to be “whatever he could.”

But then, what would he have done, if — in the middle of a depressive spiral so severe — Anastasia had vanished into the night without a trace? He would look for her, obviously. He’d spare no expense, either, and — and he’d keep a tally of every cent he spent, so that when he finally found her again he could shove the receipt in her face and tell her that she was going to work to earn back every last bit in order to make up for scaring him so badly. But then — if he never found her — he’d never stop looking, would he? Or maybe he’d be forced to stop? But then he’d still be waiting, and he’d still be putting up posters and asking for leads, and as the years passed he’d be thinking of what she might look like now, how she might have aged, what sort of life she might be living far away from home, hoping against hope that she hadn’t actually gone and—

But the reality would be worse.

It would have been better if this hypothetical Ana-bo had been given the mercy of a quick death, on her own terms. It would be better if Ana-bo had died just once. It would be better if she didn’t have to experience — being slit open and bled out, being drained of all her energy bit by bit, being thrown down a hallway and crushed by a giant flail in a place where she was supposed to be safe, being tortured by someone she had thought she could trust in the woods where nobody could hear her cry, being attacked by a pack of vicious, wild animals, being publicly humiliated and beaten half to death for the crime of being a brat in the wrong place at the wrong time, being forced to witness the corpses of all of the people she had grown to care about and told that it was all her fault, being kidnapped and tortured in a cave by a madman, being turned away as she begged and pleaded and prostrated herself for help, being chased by a vicious monster intent on erasing her from existence, being frozen to death bit by bit as a vengeful spirit forced her to suffer through every second, being possessed and forced to beg for a mercy kill right when it looked like the world was about to turn out alright, being blown up, being forced to watch as her support network was shattered behind her back once again as her closest friend was erased from everyone’s mind but her own, being forced to suffer again and again and again without an end in sight—!

Was it a mercy, that Natsuki Kenichi would be forced to conclude that his only son had gone and killed himself? Was it a mercy, that he would never find out the truth of what his child was being forced to endure in his absence? Was it a mercy, was it an injustice, what the actual FUCK was this horrible, horrible—!

“Ricardo?”

With slow, jerky movements, Ricardo turned to face Ana-bo. She was watching him with large, worried eyes. She had been so upset a second ago, staring at that metia with a slack jaw as she made a miserable choking sound, and here she was pushing that aside for his sake. How could he have ever deserved—!

“Mmph!”

Ana-bo made a startled noise as Ricardo practically dove for her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling him tight to his chest so that nobody could ever take her from his side. Normally she would protest this action greatly. But now, after a moment of shocked silence, that wise, kind, clever, wonderful daughter of his hugged him back.

“Ya don’t need to cry,” Ana-bo murmured. “‘M not going anywhere.”

In truth, Ricardo hadn’t even noticed that his cheeks were wet. He didn’t have it in him to be ashamed. All he could do was clutch her close and wait for the shaking to subside, bit by bit.

…If it were Anastasia, Ricardo would have prayed for someone to be looking after her in a situation like this. Father to father, he could do the same for Subaru’s old man if need be.

—Though, from the look on Wilhelm’s face, Ricardo wondered if his own involvement would even be necessary.

Wilhelm had his hands raised to cover his mouth in a decidedly uncharacteristic display, so horrified he was by the reveal of the prior state of that young boy. Subaru had… Subaru had…

This wasn’t what he had expected. A young, dumb boy who got into mischief perhaps a little too often for his own good, sure. But a youth who had shrank away from everything so completely, so utterly, that he had really begun to think that there was no future for him at all—!

What a horrible thing for a father to hear from his son. What an awful thing for a son to voice aloud — or to feel, in the first place. Wilhelm had seen blood and carnage and despair on the battlefield, but for some reason it was now that horrified nausea twisted his insides into knots.

“I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! No! No! Help me! No! I don’t want to die!”

Subaru hadn’t REALLY wanted to die. But — had he not fully understood that, back then? How could he not have known—!

(Wilhelm did not think of his own son, who…may have been left in a similar state. For all of his courage on the battlefield, the Sword Demon could not bring himself to think about that.)

[“FATHER HEADBUTT!!!”]

[Natsuki Kenichi slammed an axe kick down on the head of his beloved only son.]

Julius squawked loudly, abruptly snapped out of his horrified silence. Next to him, Mimi’s despaired expression shifted as she — mercifully — broke into peals of laughter.

[“A lot of what you just said bothers me, but you know what’s the worst?” Kenichi was scolding, suddenly rather serious. “You wanted me to hate you, so you tried to achieve that by playing hookey? Are you dumb?! And if you want to get me to throw you out, pick a more active method! Who would ditch their own kid just because he retreated into his shell?!”]

Ricardo — relaxed, just the slightest bit. At least…at least that old man had told it to him straight. Right?

[“You’re so twisted, you’re on the fast track to being an idiot!” Kenichi cracked his knuckles, grinning. “I’d be glad to set you straight by force if you want…”]

Wilhelm chuckled weakly, trying desperately to force down his turmoil and keep it cool. “Perhaps…Perhaps all fathers have that attitude, even beyond the Great Waterfall…”

Ferris said nothing. Ferris hadn’t moved an inch since the reveal that Subaru had been waiting for an excuse to go and die. Wilhelm didn’t…know what to do.

[“…But it looks like you’ve already been knocked down and stood yourself back up, so there’s no need.” Kenichi’s voice had softened, his fist relaxing into a hand he extended downwards to pull his son back up. Subaru smiled as he accepted it.]

“They really did love him,” Crusch echoed softly. “Didn’t they?”

Anastasia stared wordlessly at the interaction. A very personal sense of loss gnawed at the heart of the former hyena — and a sense of despair at the dawning realization of just how fucked up this situation really was seemed to take over her mind like an invasive species of poisonous flowers.

She reached forward and pulled all three triplets into her lap, hugging them close.

[“Remember what I said?” Subaru was saying. “I found a girl I like. Plus, there's a girl who said she loved me, despite the way I am. And neither one of them knows I'm the son of Natsuki Kenichi. In their eyes, I'm just Natsuki Subaru.” He sighed aloud. “No, in all of their eyes…I was Natsuki Subaru. I finally figured that out.”]

[“It took you long enough. You’re just now coming around to saying all this? I should whack you.”]

Emilia stared at the screen, eyes dull and faded. Rem’s were much the same. On one hand, it was wonderful to be told that Subaru had achieved something so precious due to their influence. It was perhaps the greatest compliment either of them could receive.

But, on the other hand…

[“Um,” Subaru was saying, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Sorry about putting you through—”]

[“If you feel sorry, all you gotta do is take your time making it up to us.” Kenichi grinned, giving him a thumbs-up. “Take good care of me and your mom when we’re old, my eldest son.”]

In the present moment, Subaru finally made a noise.

It was soft, and quiet, and very hoarse — but Beatrice, who had not taken her eyes off of him once, noticed all the same. “Subaru…?”

Subaru’s pupils had shrunk even past their usual states, his whole body shaking as he stared up at the metia in horror. Tears were staring to bud in the corners of his eyes. More horrible croaking noises were leaving his throat. One by one, the people of the audience turned to see what was going on.

“…Natsuki-san, please—” Otto said, the first to reach out. “It’s alright. It’ll— It’ll be alright—”

“Please don’t cry,” Emilia agreed, unusually gentle. “Please, not…” Not while we can’t hold you.

[The Subaru onscreen had already started to cry. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I— I’m sorry. I can’t— I-I'm sorry! I won't be able to make anything up to you before…” He finally, properly burst into tears. “I will never see you again!”]

As that cold reality was voiced aloud, the Subaru in the present finally sobbed — and with that first step, the entire dam seemed to shatter until there was nothing left for him to do but fall to the floor with a thump, curl into a ball, and wail in despair.

“Subaru—!�� Julius cried out, trying desperately to hold back his own tears at the horrible sight.

“Subaru-dono, please!” Wilhelm tried to say, reaching forward to try and ease his cries. His hands met glass. “We’re right here, please just—!”

[“I-I’m sorry!” Subaru apologized, over and over again as his sobs grew and grew and grew. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”]

“I-I’m sorry,” Subaru echoed weakly, tears streaming down his face to form a puddle under his cheek. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I wanna— I wanna go home—!”

Beatrice choked back a cry of despair of her own. “Subaru—!”

[“No matter how much time passes, you’re still such a handful, son.” Kenichi sighed, but he was smiling as he rubbed a bawling Subaru’s back. “Sheesh…”]

The current Subaru had no such comfort to be given to him. Nobody could reach him, no matter how badly they wanted to, no matter how hard they tried. All there was left for him to do was wail and wail and wail as the horrible despair surrounding his untimely departure collapsed on him anew.

[lvrcpid]

time travel.

in which the sully kids travel back in time ! this made me giggle while i was writing it 💀

“so what does it do? how does that little thing send you all the way back in time?” lo’ak asked, sitting himself up next to you.

“glad you asked lo’ak, this is time travel device just made and it’ll take you back to any time you want, with the help of this little watch here” norm held up the small circular disk and watch.

“the disk feels out how many people are on it and sizes out to fit! and you can adjust the time with the watch” max added from across the room.

“give me that!” lo’ak snatched the disk from norm and held it in his hand. “lo’ak stop! you’re gonna break it!” neteyam yelled, trying to get the disk out of lo’aks hands. “move dude! i’m just trying to see!”

“give me that. imbeciles.” you snatched the disk from their hands and handed it back to norm. “so , do you think we could give it a go?” kiri spoke up with a smile.

norm and max gave eachother a look. the ‘please don’t let these kids try it they will definitely mess up the space time continuum’ look.

“fine! im giving (y/n) the watch though..god knows what lo’ak or neteyam would do with it” norm placed the watch on your wrist, giving a few instructions of how to turn it back or forward.

max then trailed over and placed the disk down, you all stepping on it. oh yeah, ALL of the sully kids were going, even tuktirey!

“so guys where do we wanna go?” you asked, looking down at the watch and beginning to set it back a few years. “i wanna go see where mom and dad met!” tuk piped in, all of her siblings agreeing with her. “so that was about 17 years ago since they had me after they met…anddddd done!”

you smiled looking up at norm who nodded to the button on the watch. “be careful and remember not to speak to ANYONE, one wrong move and the space time continuum goes poof! and you guys don’t exist.” the sully kids fell silent. except lo’ak who reached over and pressed the button. “bye losers!” he yelled as you guys were transported.

“god lo’ak learn a bit of patience!” you all coughed, stepping off of the pad and watching as neteyam grabbed it. “the two oldest should have responsibility over it” he added, turning on his heels and walking away.

“neteyam wait up!! you heard what norm said if we even mess up the slightest thing we’re done for!” you ran up behind your younger brother, kiri holding tuk with lo’ak hot on your tails

“what does that even mean? and what the hell is a space time continuum” he spoke. you rolled your eyes and stopped in your tracks, turning to him with sigh “we talk to mommy and daddy, we go bye bye” you said in possibly the dumbest voice you could.

“oh shit” lo’ak laughed “oh shit is right-“ you all heard the sound of a creature in the woods, immediately ducking. “shit!” kiri gasped, covering her mouth before you all moved over to a big tree.

you made the initiative to lean over the tree to see what happened. you see two na’vi, one who looked native and one who had clothes like norm and max.

you squinted before recognizing who the two people were. it was your mom and dad, they were younger, wayyyy younger. “god is that mom and dad?!” lo’ak whisper yelled, immediately getting shushed by all of you.

neytiris neck snapped towards the tree as you all cowered behind it. taking a sigh of relief when jake began to speak to her.

you all watched in amazement as your mom seemingly HATED your dad. “love at first sight my ass..” neteyam whispered to you, earning a small giggle and stifling back laughter as she hit him with her bow, watching him fly to the ground with a quick “damn!”

it made you wonder. he used to be fun. what happened to him. that’s not the dad YOU know.

“mommy don’t hurt daddy!!” tuk began to walk out to her parents that aren’t her parents just yet, forgetting the FIRST rule norm gave them. jake and neytiri turn to the scene but before they could catch a glimpse of tuktirey, you’re pulling her back and covering her mouth.

neytiri began to slowly stalk over to the tree you all were hiding behind. “eywa this is it! i’m gonna cease to exist!” lo’ak whispered. you began to set the watch back to modern time while neteyam threw down the launch pad quickly , you all stepping on it and you quickly pushing the button , traveling back to your time.

you all stepped off the launch pad and look a long sigh, stumbling over in the lab as you all caught your breaths. you all almost didn’t exist, that was nerve wracking.

“that was fast, told you they wouldn’t last even 20 minutes” max laughed and looked at the sully kids storm out of the lab.

“what happened who messed up?” norm laughed , clutching his stomach.

“tuktirey! i’m never time traveling with her ever again!”

tags 🏷️: @23victoria @avtprint @bucky12345 @boilingpots @Marcswife21 @elegantkidfansoul @itsyogurl @stars4deku @stvpidscvpid @uniltsatirey @urdeadpoet @Annamarieisbae @graysonmalik2550

[m00nlight-ramblings]

A Friend

Astarion is not one to get close to people - friendship or otherwise. So when you are kind to him with no ulterior motive, he is...taken aback.

The sunlight dipped behind the trees as the air became colder - a brisk breeze that was very welcomed by the party, especially after the long battle you had found yourselves in for most of the day. Bloodied and exhausted, thankfully you all left with your lives, but it was still hard to calm yourselves nonetheless. Gale was tending the dinner he was cooking over the open flame of the pit in the middle of camp, while Wyll and Karlach sous-cheffed around him. Halsin was deep in meditation at the entrance of his tent, Shadowheart was reading, and Lae'zel was...well, being Lae'zel inside of her tent (probably angry about the way a squirrel looked at her on the trail or something).

And then...there was Astarion.

He was reading outside of his tent, his hand absentmindedly just...waving in the air down by his hip, as if in a trance. There was something about this vampire spawn that was confusing to you - entrapped and slaved for 200 years probably didn't leave a lot of room for self-discovery, so his confusing emotional tendencies left you intrigued. A man who was so charismatic, yet didn't accept friendship. You sipped on your wine and poured some in another goblet near you, instantly deciding to stand and walk over to him. You stood in front of him and silently held out the cup.

It took a beat, but Astarion noticed you and looked up from his seat, his eyes moving from the cup to your face. He smiled quickly, "Hello, darling. What can I help you with?"

"I figured you could use a glass of wine after the day we had. We wouldn't have gotten out of there alive thanks to your handywork," You paused for a moment, "Or...can you...not drink before hunting tonight?"

He chuckled and raised an eyebrow, accepting the goblet and standing, "Why wouldn't I be enjoy a glass of wine before hunting? You think I'd be too drunk to see a boar running in my path?"

You shrugged and tilted your head, "You never know. Need to keep your senses sharp."

He sipped the wine and eyed you cautiously, "Y/N....darling, may I ask what you need?"

There was an uncomfortable silence in the air as you tried to find your words carefully. You knew Astarion was much more sensitive than he led on, and you didn't want to upset him, "Can I not...spend some time with you? Unless you're really into your book? Then I can come back later-"

"Yes, you said that, but what I'm asking is why you are wanting to spend time with me. What do you need?" He cut you off, taking another sip of wine.

You were...confused. Stuttering, you tried to explain yourself, "Because I...want to spend time...with someone who I'm...adventuring with? That I enjoy spending time with? You know, beginnings of a friendship thing...?" Your voice trailed off as you looked at your feet. You remembered the fun moments you shared around the campfire, or in transportation, or at Inns, almost always in a group. You even remember making Astarion laugh on a few occasions. Was it possible that you had been reading the situations wrong?

"Friend?" Astarion nearly spat out, his eyes narrowing, "You think we're...'friends'?"

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks and you shook your head, embarrassed, "You know what? Forget it. Just...never mind. When you're done with your wine, drop it off at my tent later-" You turned to leave and could feel embarrassed tears spring to your eyes - a sad feeling, akin to a little girl being rejected by a group on the schoolyard - filled your stomach. You knew he has lived in darkness and sadness for 200 years but fuck, he was rude sometimes.

"W-wait! Y/N, wait," He gently grabbed your wrist, causing your wine to spill a little. You waited before you turned, afraid Astarion would say something about your tears. He didn't, but instead, he tilted his head. His eyes were soft, "I'm...sorry. That was not kind of me. Forgive me, I..." His voice trailed off, a hint of nervousness rising in his inflection, "The word 'friend' is...foreign to me. And I didn't mean..." He gestures to the flat rock he was sitting on previously, "Please, sit? I'd like to enjoy this wine together."

You're a bit taken aback as you sit slowly, watching him as he does the same. "Friendship is a new...concept to you." I state, taking a small sip. I imagine just what kind of company he kept while enslaved, and had a suspicion that it wasn't any kind close to a friend.

"Yes, it is," He stared out at the fire, 20 feet away from us. Wyll laughed at something Karlach said and I noticed that Astarion had a look on his face I hadn't seen before. I stayed silent, making space for him to speak, "I was only 39 when I was taken. A mere...child. The idea of having any friends hasn't crossed my mind in...years," He paused and looked at you, a soft smile appearing, "Even now, as we go through this journey together...laughter is but a brief moment. I've had many - many lovers-" He punctuates this with a change of inflection, "But friends? Not my style."

"Style?" You ask, genuinely curious.

He nods, "When your whole life is either enemies or lovers, with no in between, it becomes very hard to imagine the concept of a 'friend'."

"Oh, so you just need someone to be a friend to you to understand." You stated, matter-of-factly. You smiled and started to count the group, "You have 5.5 right here. I'm not counting Lae'zel because I don't think she wants friends, and I'm only counting half of Shadowheart because sometimes she's so grumpy she doesn't seem like a friend. But you have us! Me, and Wyll...Gale, Karlach, and Halsin."

Astarion chuckles softly and looks at the ground, "Friendships just don't appear out of thin air."

"Yeah, well, tadpoles generally don't get shoved behind our eyeballs either but look what happened to us." I tentatively put a hand on his shoulder, gently. When he doesn't shrug away, I leave it there, "Astarion...I'm sorry about what has happened to you. What you've gone through...I can't imagine. But the gods have brought us all together under these, well...odd...circumstances, to say the least. And I don't want to push you, but just know I'm here for you, okay?"

He doesn't speak but looks at you. You notice him fiddling with the wine goblet.

"And in due time, between the 'brief moments of laughter', and the late night talks around the campfire, and the saving-each-others-asses-from-Goblins, and the stories of our past...that's when friendship appears. Not out of thin air...but out of cultivation. And love. Only if you want it."

"You would not want to be my friend." He says quietly, to the ground more than to you. You heart sinks a bit - most of the time Astarion can be a dramatic man-child who is prone to temper tantrums if he doesn't get his way. Or, the horniest being in all of the land - no in between. But in his vulnerable and sensitive moments, you can see the pieces of him add up.

"I think that's for me to decide," You gently touch his shoulder with yours and stand, taking his goblet from him. Yes, maybe his past was sordid, even if he had no control over it, but the world seemed to be upside down now. And people can grow. You would have never been friends with someone who had an infernal engine put into their body either, but sometimes life doesn't go according to plan. "I am going to get more wine. And I will pour you a glass. I'll be over by the fire having dinner if you'd like to join me," You look him in his eyes, trying to show how sincere you were, "I will never push you to be a friend, especially if you don't want it. But I also want you to know that I will be a friend waiting for you if you want it. And either way, I will always show you kindness...unless you try to secretly bite me in the middle of the night without asking me first, because then I'll beat the shit out of you."

Astarion smiled and a slight chuckle escaped his lips, sounding almost like a melodic purr. You could've sworn you saw the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

"The disgusting things you were put through are not who you are. And it will take time, but we will help you escape that past. But in the meantime, I will get more wine. I'll see you by the fire pit." You smiled and walked to your tent, grabbing the wine carafe.

Astarion stared after you, his heart soaring. After so many years, he had never looked at anyone as more than an enemy, prey, or a throw-away lover, either wanting their presence to be gone as soon as he gotten what he wanted from them, or terrified of their presence. The idea that someone could stay in his life and he would enjoy it was terrifying - let alone multiple people all at once. His anxiety spiked as he thought of it, but when he looked out to the group, he felt a sense of peace. Slowly, he got up and made his way over to the fire pit, sitting next to Wyll who was doling out plates of dinner.

And there, he waited for his friend to get him a glass of wine.

------

Just a little drabble I wanted to put into writing! I hope you all enjoyed!

Please remember my inbox is open and I'm accepting requests, and I'd love to get writing!!

[wanderersbell]

If requests are still open , how about the reader inviting Scara to their teapot (could be traveling companion reader who also owns a teapot, but do whatever you want, i love your ideas!!!) and the reader furnished an entire room for him? it's suited to his likes too :o tysm!!

a realm for him

wanderer x gn! reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2528

a/n: okay listen i may have gotten a bit carried away with this and made it way longer and sappier than i was intending, but i spent forever decking out my whole teapot for him so i loved this idea sooo much (❁´◡`❁) tysm for the wonderful request, enjoy!

getting the state of your teapot to be as lively as it is now was no small feat. 

day by day for weeks on end, you’ve slowly worked at filling each empty corner with little towns and lush scenery, all of which are based off of your traveling companions favorite spots in sumeru. one island is reminiscent of a small fishing village, fenced off and framed by local shrubbery and flora, as well as some small crop gardens already growing with tiny seedlings. the second island is decorated as a beautiful scenic forest, with trees and plants and gazebos and fountains all connected by a subtle stone path that lead through to the third island. 

and the third island, after much contemplation, is decorated as a tiny inazuman shrine, bordered with towering cherry blossom trees and eye catching blue glowing flowers that create an almost mystical ambiance. you weren’t sure if reminding him of the place where he came from was a good idea, but figured having a small piece of home away from home might be the one way he can actually enjoy the view of inazuma. the sights here are much different from what he saw in tatarasuna, much more welcoming, so you figured it was worth a shot and swore to yourself that you would take it down immediately if he doesn’t like it. 

and, your personal favorite part is the main building decorated as a tea shop on the inside, with a tasteful mix of interior inspiration from every region you’ve visited thus far, all mushed together to create an eclectic little space for him to come and enjoy the different teas you’ve started collecting in secret. 

in fact, all of this was a secret. the wanderer had yet to catch on to the actual reason behind your insistence to collect extra materials while you travel together, and the time you spent in your teapot was time he spent off running errands and assisting lesser lord kusanali, so nothing was out of the ordinary as far as he was concerned. 

but, after a few finishing touches like street lamps and wildlife to make everything feel less lonely, you were finally done. it was finished. every square inch of your teapot fully furnished with things you couldn’t wait to show the one you had in mind when doing it all. 

when the time comes for you to finally bring him there, you’re way more nervous than you were expecting to be. what if he doesn’t like? hates it, even? what if your design choices are wrong and the vibes are off and-

“well,” the wanderer’s voice drags you out if your thoughts, smooth and grounding. “are we going in or what? how does this thing even work?”

right, it’s too late to turn back anyways. the golden teapot hovers in the air between you from where you stand on a riverbank together, and the man next to you has his arms crossed with an unimpressed frown as he waits for you to respond. it’s cloudier than usual today, the sky a soft shade of gray in the background, and you shiver a bit both because of nerves and the lack of sunlight before clearing your throat. 

“it uh- transports me in as soon as i open the lid. just…” you trail off, contemplating whether or not you want to say anything before you bring him in. “just grab onto my hand so we’ll both go together.” you blurt out instead. it would take you both in regardless, but this was the first excuse out of your mouth, and you want to curl up and become invisible at the odd look he gives you. he can tell you’re up to something, but hasn’t figured out what quite yet. 

“okay.” he agrees easily, slotting his hand against yours. his skin is cool to the touch and his grip firm, and you’re reaching out to rip the lid off of the teapot before you can start thinking too much about the way it makes your heart jump into your throat. the both of you are transported to the inside of the device in the blink of an eye, arriving right before the main building where tubby dozes away inside of her own pot. 

his first thought it that it’s… big. bigger than he was expecting. his eyes automatically go to the structure behind him and he wordlessly goes to grab the handle of the door but you’re quick to tug the back of his shirt to stop him, shaking your head softly when he turns to give you a questioning look. 

“we’ll do this last, let’s go take a walk first.” 

his eyes follow yours in the direction of the other islands that are just visible in the distance. he can’t make out any details yet, much to your relief. 

“what’s out there?” he asks with poorly concealed interest while following you down the steps of the building and towards the first island. you give him a sly smile that you hope masks the way you’re freaking out on the inside. 

“you’ll see.”

he raises a brow at this but stays silent. this island is the small fishing village, based off of the one you both visit regularly, the one where you first met the mysterious wanderer and your journey with him began. he feels a sense of familiarity as you lead him over to the straw hut in the middle, noticing the crop gardens off to the side and giving an approving hum at the sight. 

you watch him closely the entire time, zeroing in on every minuscule change in his expression and feeling your chest swell with pride at the way his eyes soften. he can’t help but to remember the day he met you, the way you would flat out ignore him every time he tried making a dig at you then turn around and be as sweet as ever to the local kids at the village, and he has to bite back a fond smile at the memories. 

“well?” you peer up at him hesitantly. it’s more than obvious that he likes it as he looks around like he’s already trying to familiarize himself with where everything is, but still, you want to hear him say it. 

“well?” he parrots, meeting your expectant eyes. he pretends to think for a moment, just to leave you hanging for a bit longer, and then, “it’s nice, but there’s no fish.”

you instinctively frown and open your mouth to tell him to stop being so picky but pause just as the first word dies on your lips. with a sinking feeling of realization, you look around you and confirm that yes, there is indeed no body of water, therefore no fish. 

“oh.” you say dumbly, and the stumped look on your face has a laugh bubbling up in his chest. you can’t fight back the smile that creeps up on you even though he’s laughing at your expense and give him a lighthearted shove before leading him away to the next island. 

“how did you manage to forget the most crucial part of a fishing village?” the wanderer teases, catching up to you in a few long strides. 

“i didn’t forget, that’s just not a furnishing option in here.” you explain. 

when you reach the second island, you remain quiet again and wait for him to take it all in and make a comment himself. his eyes widen a fraction in awe as you both step underneath the canopy of trees and wildlife, the bright colors of flora and fauna and the blue accents on the towering gazebos on each side all working together to make a botanical haven that he can’t tear his attention away from. 

within only moments of being in there he’s already spotted a handful of his favorite plants and flowers, ones with meanings that stuck with him throughout his life, ones that you held onto and remembered and planted here. 

you watch with baited breath as he absentmindedly reaches a hand out to brush his fingers against the low hanging leaves beside him, eyes flitting from place to place and noticing something different each time. there’s a look akin to childlike wonder on his face, and when his attention finally falls back to you there’s a tiny genuine smile playing at his lips that makes you ache to reach out and hold him. 

he’s so, so beautiful standing underneath of the lush trees and flowers, and unbeknownst to you, as he holds your gaze, he’s thinking the same thing in return. your excitement to bring him here and show him this leaves him with a warm feeling blooming in his chest, an appreciation for you that he fears he’ll never be able to properly express. 

“ready to keep going?” you ask softly, as if speaking too loudly will ruin the peaceful atmosphere. 

“there’s more?” the look of surprise on his face has you chuckling breathlessly while you continue the path forward. 

this is the part you’ve been looking forward to and anticipating the most, and as the final island comes into view, you can feel him stiffen beside you. the giant cherry blossom trees are visible even from the distance, but his step doesn’t falter and he keeps up next to you so you take it as a sign to keep going. 

his presence beside you stays strong as you approach the shrine and step into the field of glowing flowers, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as he takes in the familiar pink trees and red painted wood with a complicated emotion swirling around in his irises. he doesn’t look angry though, so you finally feel your shoulders relax and allow yourself to enjoy the scenery as you walk along the path. 

in his own head, the wanderer is… puzzled. this island is so out of place inside of your sumeru themed teapot, and yet, the care and effort you put into it makes the other ones small in comparison. the shrine is grand, sleek, and high quality. the trees are placed perfectly so that the breeze carries soft pink petals down with it, dancing around you two in a beautiful airborne waltz. 

the flowers, the same ones that grow in chinju forest, cast everything in a gentle azure glow, one that when he looks at you is reflecting an ethereal light over your features. somewhere deep down inside of him, he feels a bit of sorrow clinging onto him, bringing with it the memories of a place he left behind long ago. 

but next to that is the all consuming feeling of happiness that he tries so hard to convince himself he doesn’t feel when he’s with you. in this special place of yours, filled with your hard work and thoughtfulness, he can no longer deny himself the truth of how wholeheartedly he cares for you. you, who’s staring back at him with a kindness he’s never known as you give him new memories to associate with the sights of his homeland.  

you still can’t decipher the emotions on his face, but you can tell they’re good ones and that he’s contemplating something deeply, so you let the silence hang comfortably in the air as you walk side by side all the way back to the entrance and to the main building, the part you’ve been saving for last. he says nothing the whole way back, granting you the chance to appreciate the comfort something as simple as walking with him brings you. 

when you finally make it to the main island and ascend the steps of the building, he snaps out of his reverie and raises a brow at you questioningly. “what’s inside?”

“it’s nothing much,” you lie with a mischievous smile adorning your face. when you open the door and let him in he realizes he really, truly has fallen hopelessly for you. 

it’s a tea shop. for him.

there’s no denying it, there’s no other explanation he can give himself because he knows you don’t care much for tea. that means-

this whole teapot, every single island, was for him.

you watch with a huge grin on your face as the wanderer splutters and blushes when it all finally hits him. nobody has ever done this much for him, not without a price at least, but you never ask for anything in return from him so he’s almost literally short circuiting while trying to figure out the proper response. 

“why did you- what…” he takes a grounding breath before trying again. “why do all of this?”

you smile softly and shrug. “because i wanted to.”

he opens his mouth to say something else, likely to prod you for a legitimate reason as to why, but you cut him off before he gets the chance. “look around first, i want to know what you think.”

he wants to argue, but bites his tongue at the clear eagerness on your face and clicks his tongue in fake annoyance as he takes in the contents of the room. he walks around for a few minutes, observing the things on the walls and shelves, scrutinizing the chinaware, poking the souvenirs you’ve collected from other regions, until finally he stops at the cabinet that houses the tea collection. 

“open it.” you say hurriedly. he gives you a fake suspicious raise of his brow but complies and tugs the door of the cabinet open, a sharp intake of air following immediately afterwards as he instantly recognizes the labels. 

“this is…” he trails off in disbelief. 

“the tea from the shop you keep staring after longingly in sumeru city? yep, sure is.” you confirm mirthfully, skipping over to stand next to him and watch him take a container down to turn around in his hands. he’s struggling to process this, to accept this much kindness from you when he knows he doesn’t deserve it, not in the slightest, but the proud gleam in your eyes doesn’t get lost to him and he knows you’re anxiously awaiting his response. 

“i don’t know why you would bother with this, and go through all of this effort,” he starts tentatively, placing the tea back in the cupboard so he can turn to fully look at you. “but i can acknowledge the work you put in and promise i will put it to good use.”

your expression falls slightly at his formal tone of speech. “and?”

he frowns hesitantly and averts his eyes. “and… i like it. or whatever. it’s really nice.”

your triumphant grin is almost blinding when he meets your gaze again and he shakes his head in silent exasperation. though he doesn’t know how, or when it’ll happen, he swears to himself that somehow, someway, he’ll repay you for this. he’ll find a way to show you how much it really means to him, how much you really mean to him. 

but for now, sitting together in your shared realm with some freshly steeped tea, for the first time in centuries, he feels at home.