#i cant draw motioned hands to save my life

[cannibalcreeps]

He likes listening to him 💘 I finally drew these two!! I finally draw them and its a meme pic lol Finally some Ozias and Harold for @snapitkeeper ✨

[asmutwriter]

You Saved Me (Part 20)

DESCRIPTION: (Season 15) You're last encounter with Dean was eventful. Very eventful. But you took it as a form of goodbye. So when the green eyed hunter shows up at your work you're more then surprised.

WORD COUNT: 2032

A/N: I have written the full story for my Dean x f!reader story! This is the second to last chapter so stick around as I plan on posting that very soon!

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: drinking, eating, very brief mentions of a possible death (reader gets worried a character has died), brief kissing, honestly just a whole bunch of fluff, reader and Dean being silly and not doing anything about their obvious feelings for each other

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

A YEAR LATER

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about Dean everyday for the past year. Worry and anxiety filled your very being every time you thought about him. Although you tried desperately to push those pesky thoughts away. You hadn't heard from him since he left. Not unusual. You always tried to keep in touch but you both had such busy and hectic lives you often found yourselves with very little time to keep in contact. So you would sometimes text him and just try your best not to overthink it when he never answered back.

You didn't want to ring Sam about it. You assumed that if Dean had passed away he would inform you. Or if he had forgotten to tell you then you didn't want to ring or text about his brother only to have the response being 'he is dead'. So you left it. More to help with your own anxieties. Not knowing the truth always made you live onto that small shred off hope that he was alive somewhere. With the blissful ignorance that comes with you never asking any further questions.

So you carry on with your life. Serving at the bar you now own and work at full time. Your eldest daughter having stopped going to school and started working at your bar. Although she was looking into a college near the area. She wants to be a singer so you had come to the agreement that if she works and/or goes to a form of education then you would allow her to sing at your work place a couple of nights a week. That plus she helped you every weekend as a paid employee. As did your youngest daughter. She was still in school but you allowed her to earn a small wage every Saturday.

You serve the customer in front of you. Smiling as you give her the drinks she ordered. Watching as she takes them over to her table. It was about 10pm on a Wednesday so your bar wasn't overly busy. Only 3 tables had people sat at them. Mainly people who were having a late dinner or a couple of drinks to wind down from their day at work. You turn. Going into the kitchen unit beside the bar. Starting to stack the dishes into the washing machine. Hearing the door open. You call out.

"Be with you in just a second!" You push the washing tablet into the machine. Shutting it and turning it on before going out to the bar with a customer greeting smile plastered on your face. You stop as you see a pair of familiar green eyes. "Dean?" you whisper his name. He smiles at you.

"Hey Kat" he says. His voice soft. You watch him. Almost in awestruck. Blinking a couple of times before shaking your head.

"What-" the word coming out quiet. You cough to clear your throat. Speaking louder this time. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to come and see you" you nod your head sightly.

"I umm. I cant chat right now really. I'm working". He nods. Giving you that familiar smile you recognise so well. Bringing a hand and resting it out onto the bar top.

"Could I get a beer please? And a burger with lots of fries?" You nod. Smiling slightly as your eyes stay transfixed onto each others. You draw your eyes briefly from his gaze. Motioning at the seats behind him.

"Please find a place to sit and I'll bring it over to you". He nods. Bringing his lip between his two teeth before hitting his palm softly onto the bar top. You watch him find a seat as you make his drink before taking it over to him. Placing it down in front of him before going back to the kitchen. Making him his burger and fries before going with them to his table. Placing them down in front of him. His eyes soft as they look up at you. "Is that everything?" He shakes his head. Motioning at the seat opposite him.

"Join me. Please" You look at him. Motioning your hand backwards. Towards the bar and kitchen.

"I can't I-"

"Yes you can. Its your bar after all. You can do what you want right?" He looks at you. A light smirk taunting his lips. You take in a breath. Going to the chair and pulling it out. Sitting opposite him. "How have you been Kat?" You nod. Your eyes watching each others.

"I've been alright I guess".

"How about the girls? Anna must be at college now right?" You nod your head. Shoulders going with you as your upper body nods.

"Yes. She's doing a degree in music plus working here part time. She's looking at renting a place with her boyfriend and she wants to be a musician". He nods. A small chuckle coming from his lips.

"She really is making the most with her life isn't she?" you nod. Smiling slightly. Watching as he picks up his drink and takes a sip from it.

"How about you? How are you?" He puts the glass down. Looking at the amber coloured drink as he speaks.

"Cant complain. I no longer have an angel riding shotgun in my head which is always a plus". You nod. A smile breaking through your lips. Looking back up at you. His lips also turning upwards at your happy demeanour.

"That's brilliant news" you say. He nods. Picking up his burger with both hands and taking a bite from it. You look downwards. Taking in a breath before speaking. "I should get back to work". Chewing a mouthful of burger as he watches you stand up. "I finish as soon as I'm able too if you want to hang about. Joy of being my own boss". He nods. Giving a small chuckle as he looks down. Eyes quickly grazing over your body before going back up to your eyes. A notion that doesn't go by unnoticed by you. You smile at him. Noticing a table having been left during your short period sat with Dean. Going over you pick up the tip they had left you on the top. Clearing it and putting it all in the back.

An hour or so passes. Your last customer leaves. Well, apart from Dean who sits patiently at his table. Standing up he brings his plate and empty glass to the bar you stand behind. Smiling at you as he places them down. You look up at him. Unable to control the smile that comes over your lips as you meet his green eyes.

Shaking yourself out of his gaze. Grabbing a cloth and cleaning spray from under the counter. Going and starting to wipe down every table. He follows you like a puppy. Hands going into his front pockets of his blue denim as he watches you. "I recently had an incident involving a wood nymph". You cross your brow. Looking at him as you pause your motion. He nods. "trust me it was as weird as it sounds". Your eyes stay confused but you turn back to your table. Wiping it down before turning the chairs upside down on top of it. Heading to the next one. "She made me realise a lot of things. Main one being that I should enjoy the little things in life”.

“The little things?” You shoot him a quizzical look. He takes in a small breath. Moving his hand from his jeans to his jacket. Going into his pocket as he takes out a small box wrapped in a plastic bag. Holding it as he gently taps it with his pointer finger. Almost nervous. You've never seen him nervous before.

"We've known each other for over a decade. Hell I think its been nearly two decades. Yet I have never helped you celebrate a birthday or Christmas or whatever else you celebrate". He holds the parcel towards you. You stand up tall. Eyes glance down to the small package.

"Dean I-"

"Just take it before this gets anymore sappy" he speaks. Causing you to give a small chuckle. Placing down the cloth and bottle as you take it from him. Removing the bag. Undoing the white ribbon wrapped around the equally as white box. Slowly removing the lid. Revealing a dainty silver bracelet inside. You cant control the smile that comes over your face. Picking the item up with your index and thumb.

"Its beautiful" you put the wrapping onto the table. Hand cupping under the jewellery piece as you admire it. You look at him. A hint of a cocky smile on his face as he looks at you. His hand coming up and rubbing the back of his neck. You close the space between you. Embracing him in a hug. Arms wrapping around his neck. His hands going to your hips. Tilting your head to whisper into his ear. "Thank you Dean". You kiss his cheek. Moving way slightly so you can admire the item again. His hands still sitting kindly on your hips. Holding you close to him. His eyes watching you. Quickly darting away when you look back up at him.

His hands fall from your warmth as he takes a step back. You pay no mind to this action. To caught up in the sweetness of his gift that his subtle behaviours go under looked by you. "How can I repay you?"

"Its a gift. You don't repay people for gifts". You draw your bottom lip between your teeth with your tongue. Once again closing the gap between the two of you as you press your lips to his. Your hand not holding the item rests momentarily on his cheek. Pulling away just as quickly as you had started. His eyes meet yours. A light confusion but gratification on his face as he tilts his head.

"I said you didn't need to repay me" you give a soft chuckle. Taking a step back. Looking down at your wrist. Starting to put the bracelet onto it. Trying to do the clasp up as you speak.

"That wasn't a payment. It was a way of saying thank you". The bracelet falls back into your hand as you fail at doing the item up. He smiles. His rough hands coming up. Taking the delicate item between his fingers. Doing the catch up for you. His thumb brushing your wrist once its done up. You dart your eyes up. Looking up at him through your lashes. Those green eyes meeting yours. Darting quickly to your lips. His hand still gently stroking your wrist. The other going to your hip as the gap between you closes once again. The space between you shortening as you lean into each other.

TING

He curses himself as you both stop. His phone drawing you both out of the illusion of each other.

TING

It goes off again.

"Someone is obviously missing you". You give a small smile as he nods. Moving away from you as he takes his phone out. Scratching his brow as he looks at the new messages. Your eyes go to the silver adorning your wrist. Your smile growing as you admire the generous gift.

"Its Sammy. He said that he's found a case for us that he wants to check out tonight" he shoves his phone back into his pocket. Shooting you an apologetic look. You smile. Bringing a hand up you gently stroke over his cheek with your palm.

"I get it". He closes his eyes. Leaning into your hand.

TING

He gives an annoyed sigh. Shaking his head as you draw your hand down. Giving a soft chuckle you tilt your head. "Go. Save the world. I'll be here when you get back". He looks at you. His eyes filled with emotion that he quickly hides again. Smiling at you before nodding. Placing a hand on the back of your neck as he brings you forward to quickly kisses your forehead. Moving away as you watch him exit your bar. Hearing the motor of his car start up outside and drive away.

Previous / Next

TAGS: @sojuxxi

[raggaraddy]

Sugar Daddy turned sour

Request: Hi!!!! read all of ur works its all amazing cant believe ur new.. can i request for a yan sugar daddy taehyung x reader x yan sugar daddy jungkook. they found out that that y/n have 2 sugar daddies and they lost their sanity(as if they even have that)...Thank u and YOU GOOD,KEEP GOING💜💞💞💞💞😘😁

A/N: I don't know how to post a reply to a personal message yet because I am new and Tumblr deficient 😅 But I hope you like the scenario ^-^ thanks for the request 💜

Here for Part 2

Summary: Juggling two guys and getting everything you want from them has always been easy for you, and Taehyung and Jungkook are no exception. Or so you thought.

Trigger warnings: Mentions of non-con, assault, cheating, violence.

Yandere! Taehyung

Yandere! Jungkook

Sunday.  Taehyungs day.  

You open your webcam, checking your eyeliner quickly in the startup view as you wait for the Tae to pick up on the other side. He pops up quickly a beaming smile filling his face.  

“Y/n! Baby, I’ve missed you.” He’s radiant. As happy and as bubbly he always is. 

You go along listening to him excitedly run through his past few days, telling you everything in excruciating detail as he jumps from one half-finished thought to another. He may be an adult but he certainly has a young soul. The whole while you feign attention, your fingers continually fidgeting with the diamond necklace or the matching bracelet he had sent you a few weeks back.

“How was your weekend?”  He finally gets around to asking. 

“Not so good. I always have to work so much," You complain, batting your eyes at the camera.  

“You could always quit and come live with me.” He jokes-but not really. It’s a topic he has raised 3 times already.  And you have the same answer ready as always. 

“Daddy, you know I’m a strong and independent woman. I could never let someone else pay for me.” You pout, running your tongue over your lower lip while pushing your chest up a little to draw attention.  “It’s just my rent is so expensive. I feel like I work just to pay the bills.” 

In truth, your rent is already being covered by someone else.  But he doesn’t need to know that. 

While you continue to run through the fabricated details of your weekend, Taehyung is distracted, looking down at his phone.  You know what's happening. It’s like a game. And you’re winning. Your banking app sends a notification, letting you know that K. Taehyung has just sent you a payment. 

You open it up. Yep. That's rent for the month.  Or more, money for that new TV you wanted.  

“Oh! Daddy, noo.” You whine down the camera. “You can’t.  I am okay. Really. Please don’t spend your money on me.” You frown if only to stop the smile that is fighting to fill your face. 

“I want to baby. I have the money, and I just want you to be happy. Don’t stress about bills okay. I’m here.” 

Sometimes, it’s almost too easy.  

“Okay Daddy, if you insist.”

Tuesday.  Jungkooks day.  

With Jungkook it’s a much more straightforward transaction.  He has said he wants to pay for you and he hates the back and forth pretences.  He just wants you to say thank you, smile pretty, and give him all your attention.  

“Do you need anything more for the week?” He asks through the camera.

“No Daddy, you take such good care of me. Thank you.” You smile. 

“You still have the weekend of the 14th off?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.  Off-screen you quickly scan through your calendar.  

14th, 15th and 16th: Jk weekend.  

Hmm, that came up quicker than you expected. You try to keep your booty calls with them as far apart as possible. 

“Of course, I’m so excited! I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You say, it been less than 100% truthful.

“Months.” He corrects with a surreptitious undertone.  

“Where are we staying this time?” 

You always insist to stay in hotels. Because ‘your apartment feels too busy and mundane, and you want the time you spend with him to be magical and undistracted’. Honestly, you just don’t want him, either of them, in your personal space. You purposefully chose boys who live a few hours away.  It’s hard enough to keep them separated in your everyday life with them being far away. It could only get messy for them to know where you live and how to reach you in person.

You’ve certainly gotten smart at this. Arranging the two men into different days of the week, scheduling them into your calendar to keep them apart and unaware of the other. Both had specifically said very early on that they do not want to share you with anyone else.  And that you were all theirs. And while both of them seemed to trust you, you knew their reactions would be unpleasant, to say the least, if they found out about the other. 

Sugar Daddies can be so possessive. 

But while both these men are very handsome, money is better and more reliable than boys. And if they are stupid enough to spend it all on you, why should you care.

The week passes quickly and it’s the 14th.  Once more you find yourself in the lobby of a 5-star hotel. Jungkook arrived in town early and sent you a message with the room number. 

Time to actually work for your money. 

You knock on the door only to find it slightly open.  Entering there is a trail of rose petals lining the floor leading into the suite. All the lights are dimmed with a warmth of candlelight filling the room. This is so typically Jungkook. Pulling out all the stops to try to impress. 

Dropping your bag at the entrance, you close the door behind you and explore inwards.  

“Daddy?” You call out in a singsong voice. Your heels clack on the tiled floor as you round the corner into the living room. Jungkook is sitting on the lounge, one leg crossed over the other, arms rested up over the back. You smile at seeing him. You always seem to forget just how stunning he is in person. 

“Which one of us are you referring to?” A deep voice startles you from behind. You jolt, spinning to see Taehyung standing behind you leaning against the wall.  

Holy fuck. 

Your mind starts to jumble through what is happening. Thinking about what it was that might have given you away. Evaluating how much they may know. And planning your next move.  

Damn it.  You doubt you’ll be able to smooth talk your way out of this with Jungkook. He’s too direct and absolute. So you’ll just have to accept that that relationship is over. However, you might be able to salvage this situation with Taehyung if you play your cards right. Being defensive should do the trick.

“What is this?” You snap, keeping focused on Taehyung. “This is such a violation of my privacy! You keep smothering me Taehyung! See this is why I tried to find someone else to hang out with.” You stomp your foot. He would always wrap around your finger so quickly with the little girl act. 

“Ha!” He blurts out a short laugh in contradiction to how you expected him to react. “Wow. No, go on. I want to see where this is going.” 

“Do you think we only just found out about each other?” Jungkook pipes up, coming from the couch. 

You sigh. You had almost saved enough for a holiday to the Maldives too. But they seem to know too much. Fine. You can burn both relationships. They were starting to get too clingy anyway.  “Whatever.” You roll your eyes. You got all you could from them. Time to move on to the next.

As you shrug them off, Taehyung steps into the path of the front door. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Both he and Jungkook start to close in tighter. There is a cold tone to his words. Something far too close to a threat for your comfort. Even in heels, both men naturally stand taller than you which usually wouldn’t bother you. But with an unsteadiness to your footing and a very short dress on, in a dark room with two men you have used and spurned, you are feeling even more vulnerable than you feel you should. 

“Move.” You order. 

A smirk on his lips, Taehyung lifts his hand up and backhands you, knocking you back a few stumbled steps. You gasp, your hand clinging to your cheek, eyes wide in shock. He starts forward, Jungkook intervening, standing between the two of you. 

You can not believe he just hit you! He has never done anything like that before.

“No, don’t do that.” He stops Taehyung as he starts to swing again.  Shaking all over, you’re relieved that one of them is seeing sense.  You take the outstretched hand of Jungkook, lip trembling from the burn on your cheek. He draws you closer and you wrap into him for protection. In the same motion, his free hand swings down punching you in the stomach, doubling you over, dropping you to the floor. “If you hit her head, she might get spaced out. I want her to feel this.”

His words send a chill down your spine. This can not be happening.

“Are you crazy!” You gape, trying to speak while gulping down air. Your head is dizzy, your lungs burning.  Kicking off your heels for better movement, you climb back up to your feet not wanting to engage either man. Eyes focused you look past Taehyung to the door, storming forward. “I’m leaving. We’ll forget all of this, okay.” You bargain through short, panicked breath. 

Taehyungs large hand slams you into the wall, pressing his palm against your shoulder. He follows Jungkooks lead, pounding his fist into your gut. And then again. And again.  His hold removes letting you free and you plummet to the ground, crying within broken huffs while cradling your battered torso. 

“You’re right. That is better.” He laughs at Jungkook. 

“Stop!” You beg, unable to raise your voice above a soft yelp. 

“What's wrong baby? You wanted two men. Now you have them.” Taehyungs bright smile returns to his face. This time with an entirely different meaning than it had ever had until it shifts into a straight, harsh look that you have never seen from him. “Didn't you always say you wished there was some way you could repay me?” 

“You said that to me too.” Jungkook joins his side, both hovering above you, trapping you between them, the wall, and the floor. 

Leaning down Jungkooks hand follows you as you squirm away from him. His fingers wrapped around your throat and lift you up, keeping you against the wall. He takes advantage of you being stuck, leaning into you pressing his lips to yours as you resist as much as you can. 

“Baby, you’re going to pay us back for every dollar we spent on you.” He snarls. 

Taehyung turns your face to him, also forcing a kiss on you. “Don’t worry, Y/n, you’ll see that we know how to share.”  

Part 2

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twelve

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: this took so long bc ive been reading chain of iron and in general agonizing over things i cant control instead of being productive 🥴 that being said, absolutely none of the events in this chapter were planned in my outline, but here we are with something new!

***

December brings more snow and bone chilling weather, to the point where Cassian has to drag Nesta out of bed, either physically or by phone call, to get her to therapy appointments on time. 

She’s in the waiting room one freezing morning when, in her utter boredom, she musters up the nerve to turn to the girl sitting next to her. “What are you in here for?”

The girl blinks her large blue eyes, taking notice of Nesta for the first time. Nesta uses the opportunity to take in her freckle-painted face, a little wan but beautiful. Reddish brown hair hangs around her face and shoulders, creating a thick curtain from the rest of the world, and Nesta’s curiosity piques like she’s just found a shiny new toy.

It probably isn’t right to compare people to toys, but then the girl says, “This isn’t prison, you know.” Her voice is deep, almost sultry— completely at odds from her huddled-in posture and sickened expression. “I didn’t commit a crime to have to be here.”

Is she insulted by Nesta’s question, or is she poking a joke? Nesta decides to play it safe by murmuring, “Sorry, never mind.”

She starts to turn away when the girl says, “We’re trying a new type of trauma therapy today. I had to get here half an hour early because I couldn’t swallow my nerves.”

Nesta might lack many social skills, but she isn’t stupid enough to ask what kind of trauma the girl is being treated for. Instead, she nods casually as if she understands the struggle. “I’ve been coming here for weeks now and I’ve barely discussed shit. That’s mostly on me, but you know…” She actually doesn’t know where she’s going with her train of thought. “It sounds brave to do whatever you're doing,” she states finally. “I don’t think I’ll be able to open up that much about myself, ever.” 

The girl gives Nesta a weird look that she immediately recognizes. Nesta uses it every time she doesn’t know how to respond to someone who takes her by surprise.

The door to Lana’s office clicks open, and the woman herself pokes her head out with a plain smile. “Ready, Nesta?”

Nesta bites down on her frown. She has a feeling today won’t be as easy as her past sessions.

She’s about to leave without another glance at the girl beside her when that low voice speaks up. “I’m Gwyn.”

Nesta looks back at her as she gets up from her chair, and says the first reply that comes to mind: “Good to know.”

***

Nesta is contemplative hours after she gets back from her therapy session, bundled up in her bed with a coloring book. The repetitive motion of filling in the mandala drawing lets her mind wander, picking up and dropping different thoughts like she’s inspecting stones. 

She keeps her wrist light as she colors in with red. She finally said Tomas’s name in therapy today, though the action left a slimy feeling in Nesta’s stomach that lingers even now. She also spoke about her sisters, which somehow ended up leading to a discussion of her uterus. 

“How have you been dealing with the endometriosis news?”

Nesta shrugged. “I’m getting treated, and my last period was more bearable than usual—”

“I mean mentally, how are you doing? With how your condition could affect your future?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Affect me how?”

“Have you never considered the impact it could have on your ability to bear children?”

“Not everything in life is about bearing children, you know.”

“We’re humans. It’s definitely something to consider.”

“Not for me. I’ve never wanted kids.” A mistruth at best. “I don’t care what endo does or doesn’t do to me on those grounds.”

In a way, Nesta told herself, the health risks were actually for the best. If she ever did, by some stupid loss of sanity, try to have children, then her body would act as a safety net from her decisions.

Lana only said, “You’ll never know how much you care or don’t care until you talk out your feelings.”

“Then I guess we’ll never know.”

Nesta lets the memory of that conversation drop like a stone on a shore. That’s not something she has to face for a good long while. No, right now she has to face her past. 

Her sisters, and her ex, and even her father— 

I wonder if I came off too strong with Gwyn today. 

Her hand stops drawing, and she switches out her red marker for an orange one. This thought she doesn’t mind inspecting for a little longer: she and Gwyn ended up leaving their sessions at the same time, which meant they were forced into stilted conversation on the way down to the parking lot. 

Not forced, Nesta self-corrects. She willingly initiated a conversation, and it didn’t go terribly. She wonders if making friends in therapy waiting rooms is a real thing.

Her phone vibrates beside her, breaking her hours-long mental bubble. Blinking dazedly, she answers the phone call.

“How are you?” is the first thing Cassian says to her. He makes sure to ask her that at least twice a day, like a gauging of her temperature. It makes Nesta wonder what she’s ever done in her life to call for such… attention to her well-being. 

“I’m good,” she answers honestly. “My head’s a little loud right now, but I don’t mind it.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No, I’d rather hear you talk.” She slumps back against her pillows, coloring book forgotten. “What’s up?”

“Ah...” Cassian sounds hesitant for the first time since their relationship started. “It’s just that I haven’t gotten my Christmas decorations up yet, and I was going to ask if you wanted to help.”

Nesta takes a moment to absorb his words. “It’s December fifth,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“You just seem like somebody who does their decorations the day after Thanksgiving.”

“Well, this year is a little different, with you moving out and being busy with school…” He pauses. “I was waiting to do it with you.”

When she doesn’t reply, Cassian adds, “I don’t even know if you care about Christmas. I know you and your family sort of ignored holidays. It’s fine if you don’t want to—”

“I’ll be over right now,” Nesta blurts. 

Half an hour later, Cassian swings open his door with a smug grin on his face; a vast difference from the stammering hesitance he displayed over the phone earlier. Nesta’s own lips want to pull up into a smile just at the sight of him, but she holds back and narrows her eyes instead. “What’s got you so worked up?” she questions as she steps into the warmth of the cabin and out of the freezing cold.

“The way you ran over here as soon as I asked.” He looks her up and down, still amused. “You didn’t even bother to change, did you?”

It’s true: she’s in the same sweatpants and long sleeved tee she wore around home, and her socked feet are shoved into slippers. 

“Get that smirk off your face.” Nesta flicks his nose before tossing her coat off. “If this is a competition about who’s got a bigger puppy-crush for whom, you already won when you delayed putting up your Christmas decorations for me.”

“Fair enough,” he grins. The words send an unexpected pang through Nesta, because it’s partly true, isn’t it? He cares more openly for her than she does for him. 

She looks away in guilt, not knowing how to fix the imbalance. Her eyes land on the living room coffee table, where their half-finished jigsaw puzzle sits. It’s been stored under the couch for the past few weeks, forgotten by Nesta and Cassian alike as they moved on with their lives, but now it’s sitting out again.

“Have you been working on the puzzle without me?” She raises an inquisitive brow, about to feel— hurt.

“Never,” Cassian promises, saving her from that irrational hurt. “I just brought it out because I figured we should get to finishing it one day.”

She pads over to the table, picking up a puzzle piece and turning it over in her hand. “I don’t know if you remember, but we had a terrible time working on this,” she scoffs lightly.

“Oh, I remember,” he says, coming up behind her and stealing the piece from her grasp. “I think it’s safe to say those evenings were the worst fights we’ll ever have together.”

Nesta leans back against Cassian’s chest and hums. “It made us a stronger couple, don’t you think?” She turns her head up and back to meet Cassian’s eyes, finding that he’s already looking down at her.

Hypnotized, she leans into his warmth. She only manages to land the smallest kiss against his lips when his hand squeezes her ass cheek. “You’re here for a job, remember?” He taps her butt before pulling away, gesturing to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living area with his chin. It stands bare. “You do tinsel, I’ll do lights.”

Tinsel is harder to work with than Nesta remembers. She only manages to get half the tree done before plopping onto the Persian rug, exhausted and covered in silvery material. She doesn’t mind laying there while Cassian continues working; it’s her revenge for when he napped on her bed while she moved in.

“You know the stair railings still need to be wreathed, Archeron.”

Nesta declines to respond, tilting her head on the carpet for a better view of her boyfriend’s ass instead. “All this decorating,” she starts. “Is it just for you?”

Cassian turns to her, surprised. “Well…”

She pushes up onto her elbows, catching her mistake. “Are we doing Christmas together? Or are your friends coming over?” She hasn’t bothered to celebrate Christmas in years now, and she doesn’t care much what Cassian’s plans are either way.

“I was hoping for both?” He sounds hesitant. “Christmas Eve is all the way over in Velaris, but I was thinking we could go together, open some presents, and come back and spend Christmas here.”

Nesta purses her lips. She doesn’t actually hate that plan. Both Feyre and Elain have been pestering her with the annual texts asking her to visit for Christmas, and for once, she feels like responding to them. The invitation is more of a formality than an actual request at this point; she doubts her sisters want her there after years of rejections, but… what’s the harm?

“Is that a yes?” Cassian asks at her unreadable face.

“Yes,” she states unflinchingly. She refuses to overthink the possible consequences of this choice and chooses to focus on the broad grin overtaking Cassian’s face. “Really?” he says.

“But there has to be rules.” Nesta sits up fully now. “No one can know we’re together, no matter how much you trust or love them.”

“We already agreed to that, baby.”

Yes, but Nesta knows the secret weighs on him heavier than he shows— even if he agrees with her that it's for the best. “It’ll be different when we’re together in the same room as everyone else,” she says. Cassian wears his beating heart on his sleeve, and she doesn’t think he’s ever had to hide it before.

“You’ll also be different,” she adds. “It’s a huge change of pace.”

Cassian drops the remaining strand of lights and smiles confusedly down at her. “What do you mean, I’ll be different?” He sits across from her, before the blazing fire. 

“You know how you get around your friends.” Nesta shrugs without a thought. “Like your personality readjusts to mirror the people around you. I used to find it a mix of sad and adorable, like a neglected puppy desperate for love, but now I— okay, I still feel the same way.” She waves a hand in a dismissive gesture.

By the look on Cassian’s face, he does not find her words so easily dismissed. 

Coldness curdles in the pit of Nesta’s stomach, the realization that she’s said something wrong. She can’t fix it until she knows where she fucked up, though.

“Is that what you think of me?” Cassian finally says lowly. His usually expressive mouth is drawn tight and narrow. 

“Um… What would you rather I think of you?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Seriously, Nesta?”

Nesta’s back stiffens, refusing to cower. “I only described what I’ve observed in the past.”

“And what you observed was a desperate puppy?” His voice is cold in a way she’s never heard before.

Okay, she’s starting to see how that might be offensive. She forges onward, “Tell me what you think about yourself in the presence of your family, then.” It’s a private victory that she says family instead of clown circus. But she’s not trying to turn this into a fight.

Cassian is silent, but his stare continues to rage at her.

“Tell me,” Nesta repeats.

His hands curl into fists on the rug. “I think I’m empathetic, easy to talk to, and easier to be around. Is it a problem if I’m likable?” Unlike you are the unsaid words.

Nesta inspects the space between them like it’s a chessboard. “And what part of yourself are you giving up to be so likable, Cassian?” she says quietly.

“Nothing.”

Nesta disagrees, if only because she’s been watching him out of the corner of her eye for years. “I think you base your personality off of those you love, and you lose a little bit of your true self every time you put others’ needs before your own.” 

She shuts her mouth, not having expected such honesty to come out of it. Cassian is taken aback, too, she can tell.

“And I guess it’s natural that you’d see all of that as a bad thing, considering your history of being closed off and self-serving to a fault,” he fires back with the flatness Nesta utilizes so often.

One for one. Fair enough. “We’re both right then,” Nesta says. “You work for your best friend because you have no ambition beyond serving your family, and I have no such family because I can’t bring myself to care about those things. Are we even now?”

Cassian furrows his brows, those defensive walls melting away as he realizes she’s completely serious. “What? No, Nes—” He shakes his head. “Okay, so maybe you’re right about me. Maybe I agree with you a little bit, but… If we see flaws in each other, then we should be working to overcome them instead of weaponizing them.”

Now Nesta’s the one shaking her head, quickly lifting a hand to stop him. “Relax there, sweetheart. I have no expectations from you or myself to go on some self-improvement journey now that we’re together. Talking about my feelings with a professional every week is hard enough.” Yes, agreeing to go to Feyre’s Christmas party is improvement. Slow, barely there improvement, but enough to wear her out for the rest of the month. For Nesta to fully let people into her life, to treat them as lovingly as she treats Cassian— that’s a long way away. She can’t envision it, doesn’t even know if she wants it.

Cassian must understand some of what she’s thinking, because he nods and backs off. He gets back up and returns to stringing lights, tossing a handful of tinsel at Nesta as if to say Get back to work. 

She stands and obeys, thinking their not-argument is officially over when Cassian says, “You’re wrong about one thing.”

She looks up from where she threads tinsel through fir leaves. He doesn’t take his eyes off his work as he says, “You do have a family. And deep, deep down, you care about them as much as I care about mine.”

***

Nesta catches Emerie’s eye as the dark-haired beauty walks into the pub. Raising a hand and waving, she gestures Emerie over to the booth she’s sitting in. 

“Look what I found,” Nesta says with a hint of pride, pointing to the redhead sitting beside her. “A third girl for girl’s night!”

“I was kidnapped,” Gwyn speaks up. “Jumped on the way to my car.” She’s out of her usual hoodie and in a tight-fitting blouse, looking stunning even while seeming out of place in the dim bar.

“She came here consensually,” Nesta retorts. “Emerie, this is Gwyn. We met at therapy.”

Gwyn offers Emerie an awkward smile.

Emerie slides into the booth across from them with raised brows. She looks between Nesta and the new girl and back again. “You invited her here? All by yourself?” she asks.

Nesta nods firmly.

Emerie breaks into a wide grin and reaches over the table to grab Nesta’s hand. “I’m so proud of you!” If Emerie were anyone else, she’d be squealing in excitement, but Emerie does not squeal.

Nesta waves off her friend’s praise, though a part of her wants to beam at it, too.

Gwyn glances between the two of them with slight amusement. “I mean, it’s not that impressive,” she says. “She came on a bit too strong, probably a five out of ten on the asking-someone-out scale.”

“‘A bit too strong’ is all you’re gonna get with Nesta,” Emerie says, lifting her hand to order drinks. “She’s all-or-nothing, and most people would pray she doesn’t give them her nothing.”

Nesta doesn’t know if that’s a compliment, but she supposes there are worse things that could be said about her.

“So, Gwyn, what do you do?” Emerie leans forward. “All our friends are law students and it’s starting to get boring.”

Gwyn goes off about her librarian job as Nesta orders their drinks, and Emerie rests her chin in her hand and listens eagerly. Christmas music plays softly in the background and snow flurries gently outside. Nesta thinks she can’t be doing that bad in life, if she’s managed to carve out this little slice of happiness for herself.

***

a/n: i promise shit actually happens next chapter! we're getting christmas with nessian and the ic in the same room for the first time

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson

[miru667]

Got any art tips?

Tons, i could talk about art all day. I actually had a draft saved of a few of my personal tips just for my own reminder, i guess i can edit it so it's coherent and share it here? 😅 under the readmore haha

-sometimes things drawn to real life accuracy...are worse. watching ANTM made me realize this. think abt overall picture and composition, shapes, parallel/perpendicular lines, line of motion. This also goes for drawing a character "on model". Sometimes we gotta go off model for the sake of the composition. Only certain things please our eyes - nature is weird like that -sometimes we get stubborn or lazy and draw something in a certain perspective or angle just because that's the perspective or angle we're used to even tho we know it's wrong for this pic or that it's making the pic look bad. Don't be stubborn or lazy! Don't be afraid to draw it in the right perspective or angle even tho u haven't done it that way before. That's the whole point - make art a learning experience, an experiment, break out the refs and u will improve even during the middle of working on an artwork

-but ofc if u just wanna chill u can be lazy. we do art for diff reasons. im lazy like all the time. but if u wanna actively improve then u can't be lazy. -if something feels off and u cant tell what it is, try covering a part of the picture with ur hand and see if the rest looks okay. If it does, then u know the uncovered part isn't the problem. The problem is either something in the part u covered or the way the two parts have been arranged together. Keep covering different areas of the pic til u can pinpoint what exactly u need to fix or redraw. u can also: take breaks, flip the image, or look at the drawing on a different device. it refreshes ur view. i never finish anything in one sitting, my art would look horrible if i did. Er i guess this entire bullet point depends on whether u have enough visual experience in the first place to know when something has been drawn wonky aha

-fixing ur mistakes will build ur muscle memory and make it easier for next time

[spinchip]

ooo if you're taking prompts maybe something with amara? i'd love to see her and zane talk about seer stuff and goof off together

A/N: This got out of hand. 2500 words, it’s some Zane and Amara bonding, then Zane gets a scary vision and Amara and Alma help him through it. Warning for Zanes vision: blood, gore, body horror. no main characters or ocs are hurt!

Amara hit the training mat with a grunt, rolling across the soft of it with the force of the throw, letting her arms flop uselessly as she splayed out on her back. She heaves out a breath, sweat slick on her forehead and frizzing the edges of her hair.

“I think i’m starting to get it!” She announces, breathless, and Zane grins behind his hand. Amara may have an affinity for things to do with psychics and visions, but martial arts was a bit out of her skill level.

Lloyd smiles apologetically, hands on his knees as he leans over her, “I’ll try coming in a little easier and give you a chance to practice the counter in slow motion.”

“You know, that sounds good and all, but i think i might sit this next little bit out. Gonna let the lesson sink in a little, you know? Sleep on it and all.” She nods to herself, folding her hands over her stomach as if she’s totally meant to be laying in the middle of the training ground.

“Sounds good.” Lloyd laughs and lets her off easy, offering his hand to pull her up.

After working together to get her off the ground, Amara presses a hand to the stitch in her side and hobbles her way over to the others, who’d been watching the impromptu training session with amused eyes, “That’s the last time I watch you train.” She mutters when she gets within hearing range, giving Zane a teasing stink eye.

Cole takes her spot, running a few drills with Lloyd in a much smoother and confident way than Amara had. She seems unbothered, stretching out her tense muscles.

“You did very well for your first time.” Zane offers, moving into a simple yoga pose that he motions for Amara to imitate.

“Thanks.” She sighs deeply, rolling her shoulders, “I try to keep myself in alright shape, but this was a bit more advanced than jogging or lifting weights.” She mutters, shifting into the tree pose, letting her body cool down from the heavy workout, “Grandma works out too. Keeping your body active helps keep your mind active, most seers try and hold a healthy routine.”

“Physical exercise helps with visions?”

Amara shrugs, “Exercise, eating right, meditation, all that. Your body is a temple or something. These abilities we have cost you, the toll they take can be rough if you’re not prepared, though I suppose you’d have an advantage on the physical effects. A heart attack wouldn’t affect you.” She hums, mulling that over as they break pose. They run through a few more together until Lloyd signals they should clean up. “Thanks for the yoga, hopefully that will help my sore muscles.”

“Would have worked better if you had not talked through most of it.” He jokes.

“Everything I had to say was very important.”

Lloyd claps his hands, “Alright, I think we can call it for today. Great work everybody.”

“Cool, I could use a shower.” Kai sighs dreamily at the thought of it as they all gather their water bottles and towels.

Nya wrinkles her nose, “You can say that again!”

It’s not really all that funny, but the others laugh anyway, and Zane smiles along with them. It’d been a good day, he’d made some great stride that morning with Geand Seer Mirai in getting more comfortable using his seer abilities, and Amara had come to watch them train- and even agreed, at his insistence, to do some defensive training as well. He was worried about her being caught up with the Ninja when she couldn’t properly defend himself. They’d gotten a lot done that day, and he felt good.

He sighs, feeling the cool breeze on his face for just a moment longer, and then he turns to follow his friends insi-

Water sloshes around his ankles and he stumbles at the thickness of it, kicking liquid everywhere as he tries to catch himself. he blinks, disoriented- the horizon yawns around him, red water stretching endlessly across the skyline- the monasteries courtyard has vanished, open sky swallowing everything he can see. The sky is a hellish orange, boundless and never ending, the sun a suffocating weight in the sky and spots dance in his eyes when he glances too close, the heat threatening to hold him too tightly, wringing the strength from his body with it’s burn. The air is heavy and thick and dragging across his shoulders, the smell of rot and decay sitting slick and cloying on his tongue, filling his head until he gags with it.

The liquid soaking into his pants is not water.

There’s so much blood it pulls at his ankles, so much gore it spills across even the farthest point in the horizon. There’s no sign of land, no point he can get to to save himself, his gi is turning crimson and tacky where it clings to metal. He can feel it inside his mechanics. He scrambles back, stumbling over unseen lumps below the surface. His shoes slide on something slippery and wet and he trips backwards, blood sloshing around him as he hits the surface, and it sinks and stains his clothes, his hair, his skin. He’s frantic, scrambling to his knees to try and push himself back to his feet when he realizes what he’d slid on.

Skin, hair, teeth, bone.

Bodies rise to the surface, all in different states of decay, all of their rib cages torn out- a bloody, gaping hole where their hearts should be, blood pouring from the wounds as if they were fresh. Mouths hang open, eyes roll back to expose the whites, hands curled and twisted in on themselves.

Confusion and panic paralyze him, where is he? Where are his friends? He’s alone. He’s alone! What is he supposed to do?

The blood ripples, Hands surge up and up, the bodies undulating and moving to grasp at him. Sightless eyes and broken jaws and torn flesh moving and searching and hunting. Their fingers dig into his clothes, lock around his wrists- The pool beneath him heaves, yanking him down and he sinks to his chin before his processor kickstarts back to life and he struggles against the pull. His head’s tipped back, gasping against the blood that threatens to fill his mouth, straining against their strength in panicked, wheezing breaths.

They yank again and raw pain flares up his joints as if they were attempting to pull his arms off with the force of it. The dead wail, and it’s an ugly, nails-on-chalkboard thing- a cacophony of noise, and endless screaming, until they all coordinate enough to say, “YOU HAVE TO COME IN.” a thousand voices overlapping in pain and anger and fear, the jaws of the dead moving lifelessly, “GO UNDER.” they scream and whisper all around him.

The next tug is too strong, and the blood floods his senses, swallowing him up beneath the horror of it all. Once they drag him under, the hands vanish and he kicks out with his legs and surges upwards- but the surface is gone, nothing but endless red that begins to move, a current, dragging at his clothes and his eyes and his hair. He doesn’t need to breathe but he holds his breath on instinct alone, swept alongside bodies that don’t grab at him until he spots a black hole opening up before them, swallowing down everything, consuming all in it’s path. Panic seizes him again, the hole is- it’s nothing, there is nothing there, there is nothing past there, and when he passes through it he’ll be nothing too. He cant fight it, it’s getting closer and closer- he’s dying he’s dying he’s so so hungry-

Hands on his face, bright light, he’s sitting on the ground- wasn’t he just floating? he’s trembling all over, someone is running soothing hands over his face, the sun is warm and familiar above him. Was he alive?

“Where am I?” his words run together so badly he’s not sure anyone understands him, the black hole is gone, the bodies are gone.

He grabs at his shirt frantically, yanking on it- white. No blood. The blood is gone. It felt so real. Is any of this real?

“Shhh,” hands on his face, not grasping, not forceful, not pulling him under, running over his cheek bones, his forehead, petting at him gently. Her voice is filtering through the unreality he’s stuck in, “Shhh…y… t… yo… hom… sty... Zane.”

“I am Zane.” He grasps that, he knows that, it’s real. He’s Zane. He’s a ninja. Shouldn’t the metal he’s made of be stained red? There was so much of it. He digs his fingers into the surface he’s sitting on, grit beneath his artificial nails.

“You had a vision,” Her voice breaks through as a whisper, his eyes obey and start to focus- the sky is blue, the sun is warm but not sharp, there’s dirt under his hands. He feels so far away from it all, like his head is full of cotton, like he’s looking at the girl in front of him from a set of eyes just behind his own. “You had a vision, it was scary. What you're seeing right now is real, Zane. You’re in the monastery courtyard. We were training, do you remember training with me?”

The memories are foggy and hard to grasp, “Amara.”

She leans forward and presses their foreheads together, the pink of her eyes something he can focus on, the contact bringing him back to earth, “You can get through this, Zane.” She presses closer, the comfort of the contact making the panic wane.

Grounding. he needs to ground. He focuses on the way the fabric of his clothes feel against his metal skin, bringing his hands back up to twist in the fabric of his gi. He traces the near imperceptible freckles on the bridge of her nose with his eyes, he lets her hands on his face draw the last dregs of panic from him.

He blinks, the world overexposed and bright, so much more comforting than the glaring orange from before. He’s in the monastery courtyard, Amara is here. He was just training with his friends, before he was in the river of blood. No- that was a vision? It wasn’t real. This is real.

“Come back. I’m right here.” She coaxes him gently, guiding the floating edges of his consciousness back home.

He unclenches his hands where they’ve twisted up his shirt and latches onto her, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, clinging to her. Sweat and vanilla floods his senses, not unpleasant only because of her arms around him. She caresses the back of his head soothingly, her fingernails catching in the short scruff at the base of his neck. He knows he’s crying, he can’t help it.

He doesn’t know how long they sit like that, but when the sobs subside and he finally pulls away, Grand Seer Mirai is crouched at his side. Amara sits back in his lap, smiling softly and running a hand in soothing circles over his shoulders, “Hey.” She whispers.

“Hey.” His voice modulator is rough, he doesn't bother correcting it.

“Glad to see you’re back with us, Honey.” Mirai says quietly. She takes his cheek gently and turns his head toward her, wiping at his face with a warm washcloth, thin layers of ice cracking and flaking off, “How are you feeling?”

Dread crawls up his throat and before he can think better of it he tells her, too honestly, “I’m really scared.”

Amara reaches out and holds his hand reassuringly, shuffling closer where she’s tangled up in his legs. Mirai keeps cleaning his face, “It’s okay to be afraid. Visions are disorienting, frightening things- they’re simpler when you sleep, the line between dreams and reality much easier to find- visions in broad daylight are harder. You are doing great, Honey.”

She sits back, “Why don’t we go inside? I can make you some tea, and we can talk about what happened. Your friends are worried about you.”

Zane nods, and Amara crawls out of his lap, lacing their fingers together so she can help him to his feet. He sways dangerously when they first stand and she presses close to his side, a long moment passes before he feels confident attempting to move and she’s with him every step of the way, “I’m here to help.” She says, her support at his side stabilizing him.

The cool of the monastery is welcome, the heat of the sun vanishing off his shoulders. Mirai guides them into the living room and Amara sits on the couch, patting the cushion next to her. Zane practically collapses onto it, and she throws her legs over his lap, leaning over to wrap her arms around him. Normally, the contact would be too much, but with the horror and disconnect from his vision still sticky on his skin, the touch helps. Time passes fuzzy and disorienting, he’s not sure how long he’s sitting there before Mirai hands him a cup of tea.

Amara accepts hers from her grandmother eagerly, wrapping her hands around the hot cup with a contented sigh. Zane realizes only after he tries to drink his why she’s huddling over her cup. His is frozen solid- she’s cold. He’s making her cold.

He takes a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and squashing the swell of power that has been trapped in the bubble of terror still caught in his chest. Amara straightens up next to him in surprise, the chill she’d been dealing with vanishing from the air.

When he opens his eyes again, he feels more in control than before. He still feels awful and mixed up and a little disoriented, but he can control his powers again, and that gives him another anchor to focus on. Mirai smiles from where she’s sitting on the floor next to them, and reaches over to the coffee table to prepare him another cup of tea. The lights are off, sunlight from the far window enough to see by. There’s a blanket draped over his shoulders he doesn’t remember being given. The Grand Seer has a tea set prepared on a tray, tea, sugar, honey- everything you could need.

She hands him another cup, taking his previous, and he is quietly proud when he doesn't instantly freeze it.

“How are you feeling?” Amara asks once he’s taken his first sip.

“Better.” He admits, “Are you alright? My powers…” He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence, losing his words.

She gets it anyway, “I’m fine,” She reassures him, “You never got cold enough to hurt me.”

“That took a lot of strength,” Mirai praises him quietly, “You were gone in a vision, yet you still had the power to control yourself.”

Amara hands her grandmother her empty cup, smiling at Zane, “We’re really proud of you.”

He smiles weakly and doesn’t feel strong at all.

[bridgyrose]

Love your doll stories, but who is the silver girl (assuming Weiss but what if winter) how did Salem get her?

Weiss sighed as she walked down the street, stopping to look at a small toy shop. She felt it was a bit strange, never having noticed the place before, yet she knew Atlas like the back of her hand. Either way, the shop itself almost seemed to be calling to her. With careful steps, she walked into the shop, taking a look at each of the shelves. 

“I’ll be with you in a minute!” a woman’s voice called from the back of the store. 

Weiss ignored the voice, walking around the store and stopping at the wall of dolls. Her eyes immediately traveled to the doll with silver eyes and red streaks in her hair. She smiled a bit as she reached out to it, gently feeling the wooden arm. “You look so life-like, yet you’re made of wood. You must’ve been made by a fine craftsman.” She moved the doll a bit, noticing the key on the back and turned it.

The doll immediately came to life, looking at Weiss and slowly moving an arm. “R-r-run.” 

Weiss pulled back for a moment, hesitating as she realized what was going on. “R-run?” 

The doll nodded, her head turning to see if the store owner was coming. “Not safe. Trap. Run and save yourself.” 

Weiss watched as the doll quit moving as the key in her back stopped as well. “I.. I dont understand… what do you mean its not safe?” Weiss stayed still for a moment before slowly turning the key on the doll again, hoping to get an answer. 

The doll came to life again, turning to look at Weiss. “Children. We’re children.” 

Weiss stared in horror as she looked at the shelves of dolls. Suddenly, she could recognize a few of the faces of the dolls. Some of the girls who had gone missing from her school were sitting here on this shelf. Weiss backed up and started to turn, running into a woman that was standing behind her. 

The woman sighed, shaking her head. “Well, this is unfortunate.” 

Weiss took a step back, glaring at the woman. “I-I’ll tell everyone whats going on! Someone will have to stop you!” 

The woman sighed, snapping her fingers and letting the lights dim. “Which is why this is unfortunate. I’ve already taken one too many children to add to my collection recently, and I’m already drawing suspicions. Adding you to my collection is just going to further that. However, I cant let you run off to tell anyone.” 

Weiss quickly pulled out her scroll, dialing her father. “I’ll tell my daddy about all of this-” 

“No, you wont.” With a swift motion, the woman moved behind Weiss, pressing a wind up key to her back. 

Weiss felt her body stiffen a bit as she felt the key press into her, locking her limbs into place. The scroll dropped from her hand, shattering as it hit the floor. Her eyes widened as she watched the woman walk back in front of her. 

The woman sighed and picked Weiss up, sighing as she turned to head to the back room. “A doll maker’s work is never done.” The woman paused for a bit, looking at the doll with silver eyes. This wasnt the first time the doll had tried to warn someone off, but she could certainly make it her last. She carefully took the doll off the shelf, smirking as she snapped the wind up key in it’s back. “And you need to have a little work done. Something to keep you out of trouble.” 

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.18

a/n: all i can say is... BRING BACK CHRONOHAUL :) hope ya’ll like the chapter!

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 19

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @but-kairis-not-that-smart  @colorseeingchick (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

“Kurono.” Overhaul snapped. “We’re done for the day. Take Eri-chan to her room and give the new toy to keep her busy.”

Finishing the last part of the job, Kurono pinned Eri’s bandages and carried her. Watching as Overhaul left the room, he felt the little girl trembling in his hold. The past few days, his boss had been a little harsher on the girl and it showed when he opened her up without being warned. Patting her head, the flinch did not help in the tense aura surrounding the base.

Once he locked her doors, he walked down the dimly lit hall and passed by Overhaul’s office. The faint sound of him typing away in his laptop made him stop in his tracks. It was rare for him to even look at his laptop. Something must be bothering him more than ever, for sure.

Knocking on the door, he was told to come in and entered silently.

“You’re on the laptop.” He commented and lazily flopped on the sofa. Taking his mask off, he rubbed his face and leaned on the back rest.

“I can see that.” Overhaul’s eyes remained glued to the screen. “Is there something you need?”

“D’you talk to her yet?” He yawned and stretched his limbs. Legs ready to bounce should his boss show any sign of rage.

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“Just askin’.” He shrugged his shoulders and fiddled with his fingers. “Eri-chan’s in her room now and the toy still didn���t lighten her mood. Not that it ever works.”

He merely hummed and continued typing.

“Mind if I ask what exactly happened?” Kurono sat up with perfect posture. His legs angled to the door, ready to make a run for it. The tension was too much. Even for the precepts. He could care less about the budding lovelife his boss had but the limit was drawing near.  Hearing the laptop slam close, Kurono stood up and inched his way to the door.

“You have absolutely no business learning what happened behind those closed doors. But, if it pleases your curiosity, the woman mentioned her time with Ackerman.” Overhaul impatiently tapped his index finger on the desk. The other hand massaging his temple. “Satisfied?”

“What else did she say?”

“She said that her emotions aren’t there for the bastard and that she has her eyes set on someone else.”

For someone who played shogi skillfully, Kurono had to admit that his friend was as clueless as  the word could imply. Using all of his strength not to twitch his eye at the ignorance being displayed, he let out a sigh and went back to the sofa.

“So why be pissed about it? Clearly she’s interested in you.”

“I am not pissed. I am merely agitated at the turn of events.” He stopped tapping his finger and stood up. Exiting himself out, he decided a long bath might cool his head.

“You do realize she only did that to rile you up. You’re losing to her game, Kai. I bet a shit ton of cash that she wanted to see if a reaction would suffice and looking at you now, she got exactly what she wished.” Kurono talked the fastest he’s ever attempted in his life. “I’ll also bet my money that you ignoring her only adds to her growing problems.”

“And what makes you say that, Kurono?” He was now facing the arrow-haired man. Fists clenched tightly.

“One of the men saw her entering Nighteye’s agency.”

“THAT Nighteye?” He cocked a brow and took a step closer to the sofa.

“Yes. Her car remained parked for quite some time. By the time she left, I was told she was speeding towards the precinct.”

Gathering his thoughts, Chisaki found himself seated across Kurono. His bird mask resting on the table between them. The surgical mask now on full display showing the shadows his face offered. Without realizing it, his brows were furrowed and teeth gritting.

“If it’s bothering you, why not just call her or send a message.” Kurono shrugged.

“If she has been spotted entering the agency, chances are she’s been part of the heroes schemes all this time.” He was nodding to himself. “And she had the audacity to act like she was part of nothing. Smart move for her but not careful enough.”

Squinting at the train of thought he had just heard, Kurono rested his elbows on his thighs.

“So, you think she’s teaming up with the heroes?”

“She is.” He leaned on the back rest.

“She told you?”

“Not outright.”

“What gave her away then?”

“The night I left, she mentioned how the heroes don’t have a clear map of the base and only an outline. That was either a slip or intentional. From the turn of events, it may have been accidental.” The memory of that night, having his body so close to yours made him fiddle with the hem of his gloves. The scene of having your flushed face so near to his made him smirk under the black mask. Glancing at the calendar, though there was no need, it had been three days since the both of you contacted each other.

“Do you think we’ve been bugged?” Kurono asked. His eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other.

“No.” Crossing his arm against his chest, he let out a long sigh. “Not yet, at least. But knowing them, it’s bound to happen and they will use (y/n) for that.”

“What do you intend on doing?”

“Buy me a new sim tomorrow, Kurono. It’s best if communication is cut. The Quirk erasing bullets are nearing its completion. Any upcoming hindrances would disrupt the plan.” Taking his phone out, he checked for any messages. Seeing as there were none, he turned it off and threw the sim card across the table. The small plastic landing inches away from the edge.

“You’re not going to overhaul it?” This was something he was not expecting.

“No. Burn it.”

“You’re…” He took the sim into his hand. “You’re really serious about this.”

"Those rats are on the move. The chances of her bugging our base is high. Knowing she's not the type to refuse, it is best to cancel out any communication." Picking up his mask, he let out a silent sigh and wore the said item. "No need to fret, Kurono. I've already prepared the necessary actions."

"Knowing you, there's no need to fret." He too took his mask and wore it as well. Fixing his hood, he stared at his friend. "What about the Fukuo Kai case?"

"That is in two months. The hype would have died down." Standing up, he fixed his coat and motioned Kurono to follow him out. "Besides. If (y/n) really has an interest in me, she would know the perils of harboring emotions. Let's go. I'm famished."

"Pardon?" Kurono stopped walking and stared at the back of his boss.

"Even the strongest villains need nourishment."

"Oh, uh, sure." Not sure what to do next, he rubbed the hems of hood. "Shall I ready the car?"

Seeing the nod, he blinked himself back to reality and went separate ways. Walking towards the garage, the blue-haired man replayed the events. He wasn't too sure but he could feel how your mannerisms were slowly rubbing off of Kai. Not that he minded, it was just… weird.

Taking the sim from his pocket, Kurono weighed out the options of burning or keeping the small object. Kai or even Overhaul wasn't too fond of keeping mementos, but his sense of gratitude was always strong. His ways of repaying debts were always admirable, no matter how absurd his methods may be.

Once he was now seated in the car, he knew exactly what to do with it.

The following day, Tsukauchi took his seat beside you. A brown paper bag now resting on your desk. After the heart to heart talk inside your car, you are more than glad that nothing has changed. He still treated you as his partner, as well as his close friend.

"Here are some updates for the Fukuo Kai." Reaching out for a folder, Tsukauchi pulled it with his fingertips till he finally grasped it. "We have detected some movements in their western branch. Me and the 4th division will be checking them out 3 days from now. Care to join?"

Checking your schedule, it was vacant and you agreed.

"So what're your plans now?" He asks while grabbing a small chip from your meal. "Nighteye?"

"Yeah. They’ll be discussing who’s who within the eight precepts.” Despite trying your best, you couldn’t help the slight slumping of your shoulders. Slowly nodding at the words that left your mouth, you chuckled and shook your head.

“Are you debating whether or not to tell him you're a part of the scheme?”

“I can’t but I feel like he’s caught up. I tried to call him last night. Yes, I know it’s cheap of me. But, his number was unavailable so…”

“He probably was off doing villainous deeds.” Tsukauchi patted your head and dragged his seat back to his cubicle. “He’d be a real jerk if he won’t contact you within the next few days. Trust me. Not even bad guys can resist the temptation of women.”

“You’re making me sound like a prostitute, Nao~” You commented while checking your emails. For now, nothing caught your eye. The occasional spam emails were present and one from Hawks but you could save that for later. Any more birdmen was not in your priority.

A few minutes passed and you were now engrossed in typing reports. When the lights of your company telephone lit up, your eyes darted to Namase’s door. It had been a long time since the both of you conversed, or let alone saw each other. The fact that he was calling you only meant bad news. Recalling every case you left unsolved, you were quite confident that this was nothing worth worrying about.

Picking up the phone, you braced yourself.

“Namase?”

“Bet you’re wondering why I called you, right?” Right. You forgot. This man held no filter whatsoever. “Well no need to worry. I just had to inform you that we received an anon caller. Do you wanna put him on the line?”

“An Anon caller? For what case?” You grabbed a pen and paper.

“For the Arson case.”

“Can you put him on the line?”

“Sure~”

Namase put the Anon caller thru and you waited till you were sure he wasn’t eavesdropping.

“Hello?” Even if you weren’t sure whether or not you should receive this call.

“Is this (l/n)-san?” His voice was low but clear enough for you to hear. “I think I have some good information about the fires.”

“I’d love to hear it but I had to hand over the case to the HPSC not too long ago. I can give you their hotline number if you want.”

“They scare me. I would prefer it if it was you who passed the message to them. Are you free later at 4pm?”

“Let me just check my schedule.” You knew you were free but you felt the need to look up the person. “Can I have your name, if that’s alright?”

“Tetsu.”

“Okay, Tetsu-san. Where do you want to meet up? Is a cafe alright? Or do you want a private room in the precinct?”

“A cafe please.”

“Alright, We can meet by the Nooks and Books. ’ll be the one wearing black. I’ll see you later.”

With no greetings, the line ended and you put the phone down. Gathering your stuff, you began to skim through each article you recently read about fires. Granted it had been a while since you last heard any news about fires, the tip was or could be useful. Of course having to talk to the HPSC was something you were not looking forward to.

“Nao, I’ll be taking my leave now. Anything you want me to bring when I come back?” You peaked into his rather messy cubicle. “Geez. Calm down with your cases, buddy.”

“This is only for the meantime.” He scratched his neck and stared at the scattered papers and folders. “I’d like a creampuff, though. A creampuff sounds nice in these trying times.”

“Aight. I’ll bring you a box later.” You said as you exited the floor.

It only took a few minutes but you were now seated in another desk. One where you wished you were not a part of. Greeting the heroes who had just entered the meeting room, you smiled at the sight of Deku and Mirio.

“(l/n)-san! Long time no see!” Deku greeted you and took the vacant seat beside you. “How’s work?”

“Work is work. How’s school? Are you holding up? Must be difficult to juggle this raid and academics.”

“It is but we have supplementary classes so I can manage.”

“Your classmates with Uraraka, Asui, and Kirishima, right?”

“Yeah!”

Exchanging a few more small talk with the heroes, you locked eyes with the hero sitting beside you. The scruffy hair, eyes that looked like they haven’t slept a single second, and the trademark scarf resting on his shoulders. Giving a shy smile, Aizawa merely responded with a lazy nod before Nighteye finally entered the room.

“As you all know, today’s agenda will be task distribution. Let’s get on with the details now, shall we?”

The tasks were distributed rather well. Fatgum Agency would be accompanying the front of the team. Right alongside Nighteye and Aizawa. The other heroes were tasked to stay outside and guard the entrance for any possible nuances that might occur. The police staff were divided into two groups. Being given ample time to assign which officers would be in the outer and inner group, you merely nodded and took the list of names.

‘Great. More work.’ Flipping the pages, most officers were people you had worked with before. At least things wouldn’t be so difficult.

“(l/n)-san?” Nighteye snapped your thoughts away. Adjusting his glasses, he rested his elbows on the desk and leaned in. “How’s the task of bugging Overhaul?”

“I haven’t been in touch with any of them for a few days now. I will be trying this week if the situation allows.”

“Alright. If that succeeds then things will go much smoother and will surely pick up speed. Best of luck. Any questions?”

“Are there any updates about the League of Villains being tied with them?” Deku asked.

“As of the moment, there’s no movement from them. So, it’s safe to assume that they only have minor participation in said event.” Nighteye replied without batting an eyelash. He really was confident in this raid.

Feeling guilt rushing through your veins, you shifted in your seat and silently exhaled. Once Nighteye gave the adjournment, you scurried out of the room and made your way to the cafe. It was a bit traffic but you would still be able to arrive on time. With the cafe being near the station, parking would be no trouble.

When things were now settled, you were now walking towards the cafe and found yourself now standing in front of the cashier and saying your order. Taking your number, you looked for a private booth and sat there. It rested in the corner so Tetsu wouldn’t be too uncomfy.

When the clock struck 4, you were now staring at the lobby waiting for that Tetsu to arrive.

Sure enough, a man with a hood entered the cafe and made eye contact with you. Seeing as he walked towards your booth, it was safe to assume that this was Tetsu.

“Are you Tetsu?” You asked the man wearing the hood. With the sunglasses and mask, you could only make out such little skin his face had.

“I cannot stay long. But I came to hand this over.” He slid a small brown envelope. His head hanging low making sure you wouldn’t catch a glimpse at his covered face. “I hope this can assist your case.”

“To be fair, please stay while I go through the contents of this envelope.” Taking the envelope, you slid the content out only to have a sim card laying flat on your palm. “What kind of information does this hold, Tetsu-san?”

“That information is sensitive so you can check its contents before handing it over.”

“But, I’m not part of the Arson case anymore. Would you still want me to hand this in or redact a few messages.”

Overhaul did not mention you were no longer part of the case. Cursing at how blank his mind was, Kurono glanced at the environment before he exhaled deeply.

“I will only say this once, so listen carefully.” He uttered.

“This isn’t about the Arson case now, is it?” Sliding the sim card back, you carefully placed it inside your bag and focused on Tetsu. The words that came out of his mouth made your heart beat faster. Clenching your fists, you braced for whatever he would say next.

“Kai has been on edge and it’s been such a pain in the ass. I don’t know what the hell made you decide to mention Ackerwacker but you got what you wished for.” Kurono’s voice was low. Barely audible due to the cafe’s music. “But, it would be a lie if I said he hasn’t been more human ever since he met you.”

“Can you take your mask and shades off?”

“You’ll probably just arrest me right here.” Kurono took his shades off revealing familiar gray eyes.

“You were that guy from the restaurant?” Your eyes widened at the realization that Overhaul had interfered that early on. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but ya’ll did me a great favor.”

A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he took the mask off. It felt different having his face exposed after a long time.

“I can see why he took interest in you.”

“Why meet me, though? Wouldn’t this only risk in you being overhauled and shit?”

“I have my ways. Kai instructed me to get rid of his sim card but I don’t know. Perhaps you can make use of it in your private life.”

“Well, to be honest, the heroes don’t fully trust me.” You shrugged. That was nothing new. “It sucks having to juggle work and personal feelings in this particular case. Guess both of us are in a pinch.”

“Perks of being with Kai.”

“You should probably get going… Chronostasis, right?” Putting his disguise back on, a switch flipped in your mind. “Hey you mind if I get your number? If you have one, ofcourse.”

“Why?”

“I like to make my connections.” You winked. When he took out his phone, you in turn took something out of your pocket. Placing it on the table, you pushed the small box towards the villain. “I’ll text you the instructions later, aight?”

“What’s this?”

“You’ll know when you open it.”

With that, Kurono pocketed the small box and left the cafe. When he was out of sight, you rubbed your face and groaned.

“Damn it.”

- - - - -

a/n: hohoho Kurono now enters the picture! hope ya’ll enjoyed this chapter! :) Mimick is still writing down Overhaul’s waiting list! if you guys have any questions or just wanna be tagged :) feel free to spam me! take care!

[tsukkinami]

clever-tongued

fandom: The Last Kingdom (TV)

pairing: aethelflaed / aldhelm

rating: Explicit

chapters: 1/1

read on ao3 here

--

The evening started innocently enough—the quiet of her bedroom, a mahogany lounge lined in sheepskin, wine poured halfway to the top before rippling with the echo of colliding goblets. Aldhelm seemed weary, distracted, and Aethelflaed found she could not blame him. Who could? The burden of knowledge is a heavy one, encumbering when padded with secrets, and the man had been yoked by loyalty to Mercia through her husband for a long while. But Aldhelm is good at his job. He had always been tight-lipped and clever-tongued.

The candlelight flickers once, twice. Aethelflaed first begins to feel the hum of her alcohol running just beneath her skin, and it’s not too much. She laughs at something, spoken hushed between them, and it’s a bubble rising in her chest that bursts. Aldhelm smiles, tries to hide it by focusing his gaze to the floor between his planted feet, but Aethelflaed leans into him to pull him close, to draw him into the warmth of her small delight. She says something back, a quick retort, and his laugh mirrors hers.

And then the laughter fades into silence, into curious flicks of the eye to noses, lips, planes of cheeks. Aethelflaed never realized that gold was spun into Aldhelm’s dark hair, that his eyes held storms and his brow arched to the right, like hers. 

I want you to kiss me. She had not meant to say it outloud.

There’s a strangeness in the moment, like being plucked from time itself. Aldhelm is still, lips parted to reply, to act, to promise. No thought demands the action of Aethelflaed moving her hand to rest upon his, but she does so regardless, pink fingertips brushing against the hem of his blue linen sleeve and curling. It is an anchor, a touchstone, and it draws Aldhelm’s eyes away from hers for a moment, to assure himself that the words she had spoken were true.

“Lady, I cannot.”

It’s a push and pull, a calculated move which Aethelflaed can see him forming a plan around in his mind. He always thought two steps ahead, strategic and cautious. Oft she’d find herself thinking in stride, but tonight her patience was not held for games.

“Why?”

Her voice is as quiet as the flutter of her eyelashes, when her gaze falls from him to the small space between them, growing smaller with the passing seconds. She watches his eyes do the same, watches his mind struggle to keep up with the moments ticking by.

“I fear what a kiss becomes.” His hand twitches, turns over in her palm, to hold it, to run his thumb over the peaks and valleys of her knuckles. “I fear I am not worthy.”

His hand is soft on hers, his presence warm and comforting. He’d saved her life, time and time again, even when it seemed not in danger. The tears she had cried into his shoulder number too many to count. Aethelflaed has no fear.

“Then let me prove you wrong.”

She grants him no quarter, no time to think, to retreat. Her body moves forward, curving into his embrace, and her mouth finds him, even in the low light, with trained ease. His stubble scratches at the corners of her lips, the underside of her nose. He smells of pine and the wine they shared, and when she breathes in, he is all she knows.

For all his hesitation, Aldhelm does not fight, but responds with her enthusiasm, blended with his own long-suppressed desire. He runs that clever tongue along her bottom lip, lets her guide his hands to her waist as she presses herself against him. The heat at her core rises to simmer against her skin, to set them both alight at every point of contact. He seems not to mind being burned.

The heat grows, amplified by their closeness, and soon Aethelflaed is shrugging out of her dress, a red velvet affair which clings stubbornly to her body. Without a word or a pause, Aldhelm brings his deft hands to her collar and lets his fingers stutter across her pale skin, slipping her arms from the confines of the garment. She snatches one of his palms from her shoulder and draws it to her breast, body lurching as he molds his touch to supple skin. When she moves, upsetting their rhythm, he breaks away from their kiss, sealing his lips now to her pulse point and sucking a dark red brand against it. His lips drag, gentle and purposeful, down the length of her neck and pause to rest inside her clavicle, kissing her freckles in the pattern of a constellation.

Despite the heat, Aethelflaed shivers, eyes shivering closed in kind, and takes a gasping breath between her lips as her fingers trail up his arms to his neck. The binds of Aldhelm’s shirt are loosed with precision, and soon she is spanning her palms across his chest with possessive desperation, nails grazing across his skin in an unspoken promise to him that by night’s end, neither one of them would go unmarked.

He hums into her skin, spurred by her ministrations, and in a motion as quick as thought, he reaches around her waist and draws her up into his lap. The sheepskin is soft against her knees as she braces her hands on his shoulders and captures him between her thighs, locks of her hair falling against his ears when she kisses the top of his head. His arms curl around her back to pull her flush against him, and his mouth worships her heart, her breasts, until she can be silent no longer, her moan echoing about the room as she tilts her head back to let it slide from her throat.

“Is there still fear in your heart?” she whispers into his hair once she cranes her head back down. Aldhelm pauses, peering up at her in the same way a priest peers to the heavens, reverence only faintly undercut by lust, a darkening thunderhead in his eyes. Never before in her life has Aethelflaed so badly wanted to be caught in a storm.

“For you, my Lady—always.”

And with that, he resumes, efforts redoubled; whether it is to draw more noise from her lips or for his own pleasure, Aethelflaed does not know. She does not care. Her hips cant against him when his hands wander to the soft plush of her belly, tracing the marks of childbirth that line her thighs.

“I fear what you do to me,” he whispers as she pulls his shirt over his head, hair mussed when she twines her fingers through it. He plucks at the fabric gathered at her hips before diving beneath, exploring her searing heat. “I fear what I become for you.”

His nose bumps the lobe of her ear as his fingers breach her, eased by her arousal. Air hisses through her teeth as his wrist flexes to move his fingers inside of her, accompanied not by pain but by surprise and feverish anticipation. She moves her hips in time to assure him of his actions, moaning into his neck between uncoordinated kisses.

“I fear what you could do to my heart if you realized just how much of it belongs to you.”

In a flurry, she tears his face from her nape and bruises his lips with hers, gasping against his mouth as his fingers quicken their pace. The flat of his thumb rubs against her clit with pinpoint accuracy, and she cries as fire ignites inside her blood, tightening fast around his fingers and rocking against them as the flames lick her from head to toe. She barely has time to let the air return to her lungs before Aldhelm is lifting her upright, careful to keep her steady.

The rest of her dress falls to her feet, and she steps backwards out of it, glued to him still as he guides her to her bed and lays her gently down. He takes a knee at the foot of it once he tugs his boots from his feet and his breeches from his legs. Aethelflaed is still awash in the glow of pleasure when she feels his hands running up the underside of her thighs, hooking them over his shoulders as he inches her closer to his face.

“My blood runs hot for you, Lady,” she hears him say, and props herself up on her elbows to peer in awe down at him. “If I could—”

“Aldhelm, yes,” she cuts him off, grabbing a fistful of his hair. She knows his intentions already, and the mere thought makes her skin jump. “Please, I cannot—oh!”

The feeling is so different than what she expected it to be. It is hot to hot, slick to slick, an alien sensation which makes her angry—angry—not to have felt before tonight. It seizes her for a long moment, draws all air from her chest and thoughts from her mind as Aldhelm drags his clever tongue between her wet folds, lily soft and trembling with residual waves of shock.

Her neck cranes backward, the crown of her head brushing the pillows beneath as she lets out a long groan, bucking against his mouth and twitching when his facial hair scratches the delicate skin around her core. Aldhelm is relentlessly delicate, mouth moving with practiced form, and if Aethelflaed did not know him better, she would think him an expert at his craft. It is not long before she is all but clay beneath him, shaped to him and pliant to every scorching touch he graces her with, and not much longer after that before she is rutting against his tongue in small, febrile movements, chasing after the fire in her gut with him as a guide.

When he hums his pleasure of the moment, the feeling of her around him, all-consuming, the lady of Mercia loses her head, stars soaring across her vision as she trembles with her second shockwave of release that night. Her back arches out of her control, fingernails scratching against his hair as she pulls him close, and never once does he relent or complain. He has done now twiceover what no one else could ever do.

Aldhelm waits for her to quiet, to still, before planting kisses on her thighs, her hips, her belly, finally to her mouth. Her slick is heady and intoxicating on his tongue, and when it’s mixed with his taste, not the finest wine can compare.

“Do you still believe yourself unworthy?” she murmurs once he pulls away, body slotting neatly between her legs. She feels his arousal rub against her wetness and she brushes up into it, eager, despite the tenderness at her center and the tiredness in her veins, to continue their escapades. He gazes at her with the highest adoration, lips quirking into an easy smile.

“Lady, I have not yet begun to prove myself,” he vows, and Aethelflaed’s nostrils flare as heat does the same down her spine.

“Then you’d best start now.”

--

[gayoperatorgunclub]

For the OTP ask thing 26, 34, 39, 47 and 81. For your fav ship, it's up to you which one you choose!

ohohoho! i’m actually gonna pick more than one, so here’s doc/lion, doc/monty, twitch/cav, blitz/rook, and blitz/monty! 

Doc/Lion- 

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - i think they’d be pretty good at it, seeing as olivier actually has a son, and gustave gives off Dad Energy 

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - olivier definitely makes fun of gustave for little things like handholding or wanting to cuddle, saying stuff like “oooh you like me” and gustave just stares at him and is like. we are married. 

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - GUSTAVE!!!!!!!!! he is a cuddly man and is Certified To Be Huggable. he’s shaped like a friend. love is stored in the combat medic. olivier will get an email from him thats just like: come to the medbay i need your help with something. and so he goes and gustave just motions for him to come in, gets out of his chair, grabs olivier’s wrist and tugs him closer, pushes him into the office chair, and climbs up onto his lap, his back to olivier’s chest, and grabs olivier’s arms and wraps them around his torso, and goes back to work for a few minutes, but he ends up falling asleep once olivier starts rubbing his tummy or sumn. whatever it’s very cute 

47 (Who proposes?) - i’ll probably use this setup for a lot of different ships, but there’s a post that talks about how a girl proposed to her girlfriend 3 times, 2 without a ring (1 because she panicked, another because she thought her gf was gonna propose and wanted to beat her to it) and lemme just say that olivier proposed to gustave at least 10 times, from handing him a ring pop while drunk and carrying him home to plan the wedding, to talking with lera about their upcoming date and she mentions how it’d be the perfect opportunity for someone to propose and so olivier panics and rushes to the medbay and is just like “gustave i love you so much you’re the man i want to spend the rest of my life with will you marry me” and gustave, who has had a stressful day, walks over to him, wraps his arms around him and presses his face into his chest, and starts crying. worry not though, when olivier finally actually proposes it’s remarkably well planned out, very romantic (perhaps in a park or on a beach or some other picturesque location, since i hc doc to be something of a nature lover so maybe olivier takes him for a picnic out in a meadow or something. it’s very aesthetic. gustave cries. and says yes. 

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - olivier woke up in a hospital bed with gustave sitting next to him, holding his hand, and olivier looks over at him and says “je t’aime beaucoup” before passing out again. gustave will only end an argument with “because i love you” if they’re arguing about something stupid like olivier wanting to eat nothing but croissants for a week and gustave has to be like “no you cant do that because i want you to stay alive and healthy because i love you” since i read the prompt and thought “hm. manipulative.” this almost always results in olivier either calling him a “trick ass bitch” or leaving a voicemail on his office phone that’s just this 

Doc/Monty- 

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - they’re both great at being the dad friends to other operators, but i feel like they’d think they were too old to have kids of their own, as much as they would adore it. they’re everyone’s first choice for babysitters though, and if any other operators have kids, they're referred to as uncle gustave and uncle gilles or something cute 

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - i think neither, but gustave would probably see gilles holding flowers obviously meant for him and be like “you are a lovesick fool” and gilles is like “sir we have been married since it was legal???” 

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - GUSTAVE!!!!!!!! again, he’s a cuddly man and gilles is an absolute Unit, so they’re both more than happy to curl up around each other and sleep in eachother’s arms 

47 (Who proposes?) - gilles. it is, quite literally, the perfect proposal. (gustave is blissfully unaware of the fact that it’s almost happened many times before, mainly whenever gilles enters their bedroom after returning from a mission to see gustave wearing one of gilles’ hoodies, curled up in a pile of pillows in bed, and has to restrain himself from waking him up to ask if he’ll marry him. 

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - gustave was being carried out of his office by gilles after deciding that fine, he can finish the paperwork tomorrow, and he sleepily mumbled “je t’aime, gilles” before going limp in gilles’ arms, almost giving him a heart attack. luckily, gustave was still breathing. gilles definitely uses it as a last-ditch attempt to get gustave to go to bed, like “PLEASE come to bed, gustave” “why should i? you know i’ll come to bed once i’m done with these files” “because i love you, you hypocritical fool!” then manhandles him to bed 

Twitch/Cav- 

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - NO! they are either mischievous older sisters, cool cousins you see once a year, or wine/vodka aunts. no matter what, they will bastardize your children. taina taught maxim’s niece how to make a molotov “just in case the bourgeoisie tries anything” while emmanuelle is off to the side like “USE A DRONE TO BE ABLE TO LAUNCH IT FARTHER FOR MAXIMUM DAMAGE” 

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - taina will be like “why are you staring at me? do i have something on my clothes?” and emmanuelle is like “no you’re perfect it’s just that i love you and want to see you” -OR- 

emmanuelle: haha you like spending time with me 

taina, in emmanuelle’s lap while they watch animal planet: no. 

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - it depends! usually it’s emmanuelle, but sometimes taina will enter a room and say “you look cold. i suppose i could help” and just. wraps herself around emmanuelle and falls asleep. everyone else is too scared to say anything, especially after emmanuelle almost stabbed james in the neck when he tried to draw on taina’s face 

47 (Who proposes?) - emmanuelle: she panics and throws the box at taina and runs, while julien sprints after her yelling “TELL HER YOU LOVE HER AND WANT TO MARRY HER WE ALL KNOW SHE’LL SAY YES” 

taina: they are in a diner after a mission. halfway through their meal, taina gets up and takes a knee in front of emmanuelle, taking the box out of a secret pocket in her pants. julien has to tell emmanuelle, who is nearly asleep in her pancakes, to look a bit to the left. she does, and taina’s like “i love you. we’ve already sworn that we’ll be together forever, but i think the tax benefits are too good to ignore. take your time with your response. thanks” and power-walks away. vicente meets her outside and just starts laughing while she punches him while saying stuff like “i talked about TAX BENEFITS! TAX BENEFITS?????” 

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - emmanuelle for both. it’s not that taina doesn’t love her, it’s just that she shows her affection through physical gestures. however, whenever taina actually says “i love you” emmanuelle just melts

Blitz/Rook- 

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - TERRIBLE IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE. they are both Children themselves, so putting an actual child in their care is stupid. the one time they were entrusted with caring for a child, it involved face paint, an easy bake oven, a staggering amount of chocolate, and the child’s parents finding the three of them passed out on the couch while minecraft let’s plays played on the rec room tv

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - julien will find little love notes around elias’ room and tease him about them, and elias is just like “aren’t you the one who came up with a ridiculously elaborate plan for us to go on a date without it actually being a date instead of just asking me out??” 

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - both. depends on who is more sleepy at any given time. it’s usually julien tho

47 (Who proposes?) - elias: very romantic, heartfelt, they’re both crying while dominic and olivier threaten anyone who even glance at them sideways 

julien: it’s a ring pop (but a limited edition one he’s been saving for a special occasion), they’re at a rainbow holiday party, and dominic is playing wonderwall

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - elias, before they were even together. they were at another holiday party and he was feeling sentimental, so seamus convinced him to go talk to julien and the first thing he says once he’s stumbled over to the couch is “you. you are an angel. i love you.” except he said it in german so now julien thinks he’s done something wrong, which leads to a 6 month period during which they’re both pining fools who think they’ve done something to upset the other, while seamus is in a perpetual state of looking into the camera like he’s on the office. neither. they are both enablers for the other’s stupid ideas (example: julien trying to give himself the ability to breathe fire by swallowing many on-fire marshmallows, and elias trying to shield-surf down a mountain in the french alps breath of the wild-style  

Blitz/Monty- 

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - gilles? the perfect father. elias? he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit. he has no FUCKING clue what children enjoy or what’s appropriate for a specific age group, so he usually enlists the help of several other operators (none of whom are any good with kids) and together they attempt to care for a child. think lunchables, mcdonald’s, and ice cream as every meal and staying up until ungodly hours. gilles is off to the side, watching amusedly and making sure nobody is ever in any serious danger. elias may be clueless, but he’s not completely incompetent, and the kid has a great time, always pestering their parents about when they can visit uncle elias again 

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - neither, really. they’re both pretty lovey (is that the right word? idk they just really enjoy being together and find any quirks or evidence of crushes extremely endearing) 

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - ELIAS!!!! gilles would CRUSH this poor little man!!!! of course, this doesn’t stop elias from summoning super-strength to carry gilles to bed and hold him on his chest the way gilles does for him whenever gilles returns from a particularly long or grueling mission 

47 (Who proposes?) - elias: he gets nervous and starts to tear up multiple times throughout the proposal, before he even gets on his knee, prompting gilles to worry that he’s sick, or being sent back home, or that he’s going to break up with him. luckily, elias manages to pull himself together and finally pop the question, and the way gilles immediately tackles him, muttering things in french while peppering his face with kisses is answer enough 

gilles: it is the Perfect Proposal, and elias leaps into his arms while frantically saying yes and kissing him all over. dominic yells at them to get a room, but with a sincerity that lets elias know he’s truly happy for them 

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - gilles. they were cuddling on a lazy sunday and during a lull in their conversation, he quietly whispers it into elias’ ear. coincidentally, that is also the day gilles learns elias’ ears are especially sensitive, and having someone whisper into them is one of elias’ biggest turn-ons. honestly? neither. but gilles would probably use it when elias announces he’s going on a shield-surfing trip with julien and has to be “tricked” into staying non-alpine land

[high-justiciar]

Repentance

Darkshore. July, 628 K.C

After a setback in Lor’danel, Siphiah’s forces were bottlenecked to the south, caught between two renegade groups of sentinels and Black Moon soldiers. It was a ragtag bunch of any fighters the Kaldorei could spare, no doubt — but at the moment their efforts proved formidable enough to leave her outnumbered.

The situation warranted an outside perspective, one she regretted to employ; the Banshee’s High Ranger was here to ensure that everything moved along as planned. The two of them stood in a tent that served as a makeshift strategy room, pondering over a map of the area. Sif had scrounged up a few chess pieces to set the scene. She stared down a black rook on the table, wishing that the power of her gaze alone would be enough to knock it down. It wasn’t.

“Dawnbane.” The Ranger’s voice was hollow and metallic, an unmistakable marker of undeath. It was enough to make Siphiah’s jaw clench and ears twitch. “I suppose you have some sort of plan? I would love to hear it.”

“I do, Ma’am.” Sif rises to her full height and posture, while a heavy breath was exhaled. “My men can do little to combat them in the trees. They are in their element there, able to blend in and ambush.” She reaches a hand down to reposition the pieces, showing the worst case scenario: the white pawns picked off and knocked down one by one.

“...But if we remove their camouflage, force them to fight in the open, we will have the advantage. Their men are tired and weak. They cannot fend off a direct charge, whether they outnumber us or not.”

The Ranger’s sanguine gaze peers over the map, her lips twisted in consideration. “A brilliant plan in theory. Though, how do you expect to clear the forests? We have been unable to ship machinery this far.”

Siphiah hums her acknowledgement. “I am not proposing that we use machinery. This is a task I can handle alone.” From the table she lifts a globe, small enough to fit in her hand, filled with a thick liquid that hardly moved as she sloshed it about. She watched the Ranger’s eyes light with curiosity.

“Apothecary Black was able to source the materials for a dozen of these. Oil, pitch, resin from their pines. Lit by my flame, they will burn until there is nothing left but ash, Ranger. The Kaldorei will have nowhere to hide.”

The High Ranger cants her head, considering the proposition for long moment. Her gaze returns back to the map as she ponders. “...And you are sure that they will have no way to escape? To combat the flames?”

Siphiah does not answer verbally. Instead she gestures for the Ranger to follow her outside. Anticipating this query, she had already tested a patch of land just beyond the walls of camp. The flames had stretched nearly as far as the eye could see in either direction, leaving nothing standing except the charred remains of ancient tree trunks. Even the ground was scorched to dust.

The Justiciar nods then, answering finally, “...I am positive.”

They attacked at the first light of dawn, depriving the enemy forces of any advantage in the darkness. With the globes set in place, a single charge from Siphiah’s hand lit them in a chain reaction. Holy flames rippled across the trees, taking to canopies and lighting the bush ablaze. The armored Horde soldiers were now able to see and navigate through the forest, sabatons stomping down any fiery debris left in their path. Siphiah stood in wait.

Like rabbits driven from their burrows, the surviving Kaldorei fled the woods, playing right into the Justiciar’s hands. She and her officers were already in position to cut them down — offering no choice except to die by the blade, or the roaring flames. 

A flash of green suddenly streaked across Siphiah’s peripheral. She honed in on one of the Kaldorei soldiers leading a group away from the flames, using some sort of magical shield to keep them at bay. Her grasp tightened around the axe held over her shoulder: Inopia, a titanforged blade that glowed with molten heat. Sending a wicked swing downward, the axe drove a crack into the ground that widened into a maw, trapping the would-be escapees where they stood.

She rose her hand then, urging the flames forward. They surrounded the group in a sudden inferno. She watched as the spellblade was able to pull a single comrade from the fire, holding them close while she struggled to climb from the maw and charge out of the flames. Siphiah’s lip curled as the pair seemed to disappear from sight soon after.

Two survivors was a small price to pay for victory, she supposed.

Elwynn. December, 630 K.C

She had gotten too comfortable.

These days Siphiah walked to her camp outside the city with her hood left down, drinking in the scents of the wintery forest. Few tread this way this time of year, giving her time to reflect in silence. She appreciated the solitude, the privacy offered by the mountains to the west, the way the cold nipped her bare face. It was the last place she expected to stumble upon a ghost from her past. 

The crunch of snow alerted her. She turned to view the path marked by her footprints, but upon seeing nothing there, thinned her lips and continued on. A few paces were taken forward before the crunch sounded again. This time she was able to place it, and sent her power out to sense the hidden body.

An orb of Light flared to life in her hand. She whirled around to strike the assailant, though to her surprise, her spell was caught and held suspended in mid-air. Behind it stood a Kaldorei woman of impressive stature, snow piled upon her pauldrons and caught in the creases of her verdant plate armor. She had clearly been waiting out here for some time. 

The woman said nothing. With a flick of her fingers, the spell was reversed and slammed back into Siphiah with amplified force. It sent the Justiciar flying off her feet, tossed more than a dozen yards before she impacted a tree. It knocked the air straight from her lungs, leaving her crumpled and gasping on the ground.

Forcing her vision to focus, she looked up to watch the Kaldorei make her slow approach. Siphiah sent out her Light once more, though it fizzled upon making contact with the spellblade’s armor, harmlessly rippling off the plate. An enchantment more powerful than any she had seen. She was in the process of struggling to her feet when the woman grabbed her by the collar, lifting her from the snow with a strength that came from pure and utter adrenaline-fueled rage.

“Your flames will not save you now, Justiciar.” She spat the words in Siphiah’s face before throwing her to the side. Yet another tree was there to catch her, though the bark was not particularly forgiving. It bruised and bloodied her cheek, impacting her head with enough force to leave her disoriented.

Combat instincts kicked in. She reached back to draw her blade and swing it for the Kaldorei in a single motion, through it was instantly parried by her own. Both women held their ground, leaving them in a brief stalemate.

“Who are you.” Siphiah demanded, her sneer red with blood. The Kaldorei responded by breaking their guard, slamming her shoulder into Sif’s sternum to demobilize her once more. She bought herself enough time to sheathe her sword and attempt to restrain Sif’s arms. The Justiciar realized, with a start, that this was not an attempt to kill; it was an attempt to overpower and capture.

Lurching forward, she drove the spellblade backwards with her full force, sending them both tumbling out of the trees and down the hill that flanked the path. They rolled together in a mess of plate and flailing limbs, weapons lost along the way, and landed with Sif’s advantage. Planting herself atop the spellblade’s chest, she rained a series of vicious blows down upon her face, halted only when a blast of arcane knocked her off and into the snow.

The Kaldorei rose, growling her frustration while she dove to tackle Sif on the ground. She soon discovered that the Justiciar had an upper hand when it came to brute strength, no matter their height difference; Siphiah more or less threw the woman off, letting her reel while she got to her own feet.

“ENOUGH!” Siphiah’s voice boomed multi-layered, her eyes flaring bright gold. Wings burst from her back in a brilliant display of Light, leaving the spellblade blinded over the course of a full minute. When she was finally able to see through the colors burned into her vision, the Justiciar was long gone, escaped into the cover of the trees.

She snarled aloud, averting her gaze to the blood left in the snow. Galestrike reached out to wet her fingertips with it, muttering a spell under her breath. A red mist lifted from her hand, leaving behind an ethereal trail as it followed the source.

“...This is the last time you evade me, Justiciar.” She promises under her breath, clenching her fist and closing her eyes to face the image left behind.

[faythelyse]

Joji x Reader {female reader} Apocalyptic Setting <Part One>

The sound of your closest friends baby jolts you awake. You had fallen asleep sitting up in a chair near the window. You stand and stretch for a moment before walking into the kitchen. Jessica meets you at the doorway to the kitchen.

"We're officially out of food." She bounces her daughter on her knee.

"Alright, I'll grab Ashlee and we can hit that up this place we noticed coming back from our last haul. It looked like a department store or something. I have an extra cheese stick in my bag if Jade is hungry."

Jessica knods and sighs. You knew saving that cheese stick was a good call. After grabbing the snack for Jade you head to the garage where Ashlee was working on the truck we scored a few months ago. Ashlee notices you enter and slams her hand on the top. "We still need some gas for this bad boy!"

"No time like the present to go look for some?!" You add expecting a negative response.

Ashlees face turned sour. "We're out of food."

"Yep. You going."

"Well of course, but we just went on a trip 3 days ago. Those rations were supposed to last a week. Jess eats like a fucking pig." Ashlee starts throwing her gloves off onto the desk and prepares a bag for the emergency food trip we are underprepared for in all honesty.

"How much ammo do we have left?"

Ashlee sighs heavily "We were low last trip. We might have 5 or 6 shells left for the shotgun."

"And the handgun?" You interject.

"Fifteen." Ashlee finishes packing up leaving the shotgun for me to take. "I'm gonna take a smoke break. Meet me out front when your ready to roll." She puts the cigarette in her mouth and walks out.

Grabbing the gun you quickly head for your room to gather the essentials. Outside Ashlee was taking the last drag off her cigarette before flicking it to the road. I stare at the bikes in front of us wishing we had gas for the truck. "Jesus christ I hate these bikes, I'm wore out by the time we get to wherever we're going." Ashlee smiles. "Soon Y/N" Ashlee closes her eyes and daydreams for a moment. Imagining life with a car again.

About halfway there we stop and scout a bit. Make sure no one is out and about before we pull closer into this town.

Right on the edge of town we leave our bikes locked to a tree behind a small abandoned house. It was a soft pink color. It somewhat stood out making it easier to remember where we left our things. We chat quietly while making our way to a large department store.

The store was huge. The sign had fallen partially. A corner of the building was also caving in. Jessica, never going out on many supply trips didn't always realize the danger she put Ashlee and I in on a somewhat regular basis. Although we have become better at it over time.

As we arrived at the doors we became silent. Searching for any possible noises or animals that could get us in worse trouble than we were already putting ourselves in. Instead of going in through the front we found a side door that appeared quieter to open. Upon entering we were stunned to see lots of stuff still on the shelves. Why had this store not been hit so badly by looters. Shocked by the nostalgia and childlike joy we let our gaurd down. We casually walked down aisles and shared past memories that seemed insignificant then. We would give anything to be able to visit a store normally again. Buy a new dress to wear for date night or some shit.

"Holy shit, they have mother fucking WINE!!!"

Ashlee was almost in tears, and I couldn't contain my smile. We packed as many as we could. We still needed room for actual food.

Just then we both heard a single gunshot so we dropped immediately to the floor as quickly as possible. Readying our guns we slowly get up and sneak closer to the back of the store where the gun had fired. There is a hallway that leads back to the bathrooms and what I assume might be the head office or the workers lounge area. We see a shadow at first emerging from the hallway. We aim thinking it could be one of the infected, but it was just a man. He pulled out a walkie telling someone on the other end he's fine. Ashlee and I are frozen for a minute. We hadn't seen people in a long time. Hell it's even been awhile since we've seen an infected. They have been sparce lately. Probably just spreading out more. Although we weren't a very populated area anyway. Ashlee whispers "What do we do, ignore them?" I shrug not knowing myself. It would be risky to assume they are friendly. And if they were to rob us we would be left with nothing. Another man runs up, he has a large backpack on. Ashlee and I locked eyes for a moment. We had the same idea to potentially rob this man. I shake my head. "Maybe they will trade?" I whisper.

Ashlee shakes her head in disbelief that they would consider trading. We had not glanced back at the men for a minute, when we turned back to check on them they were gone. I turn back and shrug, if they were gone then we had no further issue. Ashlee and I nod knowing we should get a move on and wrap this up before we get spotted. While crouching we slowly walk around the nearest aisle where we are met face to face with the two men we had just spotted. Both shocked we all immediately stand, but none of us draw a weapon. After a solid 30 seconds of no speaking just staring I speak up

" We really just need to grab some food, we won't be any trouble." It was then that I noticed one of them was injured.

"You're hurt?" I said softly. Ashlee also softened her expression when she noticed the wound. Ashlee broke her silence as well, "Y/N is a healer of sorts, maybe we can help."

Ashlee and I are both suckers for wanting to help. The man with big sad brown eyes looked at me with some hope.

"Can you really hel-ehp" he stopped abruptly and grabbed the wound on his side that started to soak through his thick green coat. I couldn't tell the severity of it, I didn't want him to die though, so in the moment I just decided to say yes. His friend went alongside him to help support him. "My name is Ben" He proceeded to shake Ashlees hand and then my own. "This is George, nice to meet you. We were here looking for medical supplies, if you could help us out we would pay you back some how. Whatever you need, I promise. We'll work it off."

"I'm not a real doctor or anything man. I just started learning this stuff since the world went to shit. I've practiced on dogs, and cats, a few humans. Nothing too crazy. I've become pretty decent at sew up jobs. I just promise to do my best to help. If something goes wrong I just cant have you blaming me."

Ben smiled "Listen, its not like im going to find some heart surgeon out here. Anything you can do to help is better than whatever I could come up with."

Ashlee walks up to the other side of George and throws his arm over her neck. "I'll help walk him to the bikes."

I nod and quickly grab everything i can that is edible, even found a few seed packets. Elena will be stoked to add these to her garden.

We biked back to our little community that cosisted of 2 houses that have been conjoined by fencing in the two. Its somewhat protected by being hidden in the many trees that surround our community.

Jessica was sitting smoking outside. As she saw us pull up with two strangers she looked worried. I held up my hand to show her everything was okay and waved. We brought George in and laid him in a spare room we had set up for me to work on anyone who had been hurt. There was no bed, only a futon mattress had been laid on the floor.

"Set him down gently." Ben whispered.

Ashlee had a worried expression, I could tell she was worried about the blood loss. He appeared paler than before. I sat down and started preparing my equipment as fast as possible and urged Ashlee to grab some other things I needed.

As I neared being finished with sterilizing the needle I told everyone to leave the room. I can never concentrate while people watch. I had assumed George was knocked out when I reached down to start removing his jacket he grabbed my wrist.

"This is going to fucking hurt isn't it." He breathed. I nodded. I had nothing to numb him. Then I remembered the extra wine Ashlee and I had discovered. We had grabbed six bottles. I pulled out a bottle and handed it to George. He glanced it over.

"For the pain?"

"For the pain." I said as took it back from him to open it. After opening I asked if he would like a cup.

"Bottles fine, lets get this over with." He started to shrug off his jacket exposing the large gash on his side. Hopefully he hadn't punctured an organ or something I couldn't fix.

He took 3 large drinks and motioned for me to come to him. I started cleaning the wound to the best of my ability with what we had. It was time to start sewing. Sewing still makes me nervous.

I was ready to pierce skin when he interrupted.

"Do you have anything to bite on?"

I took the belt that was around my waist wrapped it up and handed it to him. He bit down and nodded to show he was ready.

I started and his eyes rolled back into his head, I kept going. I wanted this to be over as fast as possible. He started making a few small shrieks here and there but he was toughing it out rather well I thought.

As I was getting to the last few stitches his hand found my leg and grabbed it tightly. I felt horrible for causing him so much pain.

I started to just mumble I'm sorry over and over again until I had finally finished. His head fell back onto the pillow in exhaustion and agony. I leaned up and pressed my hand to his forehead and face and apologized some more. Trying to gauge how well he was actually doing. I stopped myself and realized I needed to finish by covering it with a bandage. I grabbed clean cloth from the cabinet and bandaged him. I look at him for a moment. I should grab his friend and let him know I've finished. He probably wants to wait with him until he wakes up. As I struggle to stand back up George's hand grabs mine and squeezes. I squeeze back giving him reasurrence, and leave to confront everyone.

Ben steps up to me immediately as i exit the room.

"What's the damage, is he cool? Are we good?"

I could tell he was nervous about the answer.

"I'm not sure yet honestly, he's all stiched up. He's also still alive and lucid which is a good sign. It's going to take a long time to heal. Maybe a month or two. It also needs to stay clean and free of infection. I recommend staying here until he's fully healed. Ben seemed pleased with my answers "Can I go see him now?" I nodded and he rushed in.

Ashlee pulled me to the side. "You reccomend they stay for two months?"

"Yes, that was my recommendation. He was hurt prerty bad, he shouldn't be moving at all for atleast 3 weeks. I think we should just chill. As long as he heals well, we could use their help."

Ashlee crosses her arms. "This is risky, but Im with you. It's nice to have new faces around."

"I agree" I smile, feeling slightly better that I may have saved someone's life.

[inquistior-a]

@bornpariah​ asked:     𝙸 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙰𝙳𝙼𝙸𝚁𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝚀𝚄𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙴𝚂.

    “Do you think me unaware of your admirable qualities? Or do you seek to reinforce their value by always reminding me?”  The Inquisitor’s brow is arched playfully, enough humour in the warmth of his eyes to thoroughly soften the slight edge to his words. Of course he is aware. They both know that Halwn is unforgivably aware of how specifically and confoundingly fine the mage is, so keen in that awareness that it feels half-cruel for Dorian to remind him—even in teasing.

    There has been a tremendous amount of teasing.

   The scene between them now—not yet half-drunk, sitting on the steps of a darkened stairwell only a few risers apart, avoiding the rabble of the party they are obligated to appear at to secure some invitation or another, glad for the thin excuse to almost let the toes of their boots touch across the distance—is punishingly reminiscent of some various scenes that have played out in Halwn’s life before. Once or twice, at least, but for what is missing. Dorian hasn’t smiled at him in a way that Halwn suspects that he is able, haughty and inviting. A wordless demand that Halwn would bend to without the slightest hesitance, if given the chance. Surely, Dorian knows that, too. His wish, Halwn’s command. The Inquisitor has not been subtle, after all.

    That is, of course, part of the problem. The command. Halwn’s titles, his position. The very real possibility that Dorian simply wants to save the world, not complicate his already complicated life further by indulging the Inquisitor���s obvious desire to tip his head back and kiss him senseless. Dorian values his senses. As he should. Halwn values those senses, too.

    The silence has caught on in that particular way, that way that it tends to between them. The way that indicates that Halwn is thinking of doing something patently,  achingly,  adoringly stupid. Dorian gives him that look, that warning look, that offers no room for argument against it. There will be no discussion of this tonight, it seems. Another tonight, and another tomorrow, then, gone much the same way. Not wasted, of course. Not wasted when they are together, in whatever capacity, though Halwn feels a sharp spike of self-reproach at how easily he accepts less than what he wants. If he were to bend now and kiss Dorian, stretch over him on the stairs, cradle the back of the mage’s head in his hand to have the freedom to kiss the breath out of him without smarting his skull against the stones—

  Halwn pushes himself to his feet and descends a little, and then lingers on the step below where the mage is artfully reclining. He thinks that he can almost hear Dorian’s heart accelerating in his chest, fighting in his breast like a bird. As though reading Halwn’s mind by some dark art or another. Yet Dorian’s face wears the same quizzical, commanding expression, utterly unflinching. He’s a brave man. Fierce, and sharply tenacious. The thought only makes Halwn all the more tempted to kiss him at last. But there is something brittle beneath Dorian’s face, too, beneath his sleek and beautiful facade. Fear. A perfectly understandable, and justified, fear.

    For men like them, love is always a risk—and a man like Halwn, in particular? The Herald of Andraste, the Maker’s Chosen? What a spectacularly bad bet he is likely to be, in the end. It is not a deal he’s willing to entice Dorian to make, Halwn reminds himself, no matter the power of his own desires. His fate will be the same at any likely outcome, but Dorian’s happiness is at risk. His trust, and his willingness to trust. Halwn does not wish to wager that kind of currency.

    It is, all of it, too precious to be unwillingly risked.

    Whatever happens, Dorian must invite it. Some day. Sooner, hopefully, rather than the later that is likely to involve an Archdemon and a field of magickally enhanced fire. Halwn would like to be so certain of his own good intentions. But he’s a military man, too, and a military leader, and he knows how wars like this one are usually won. Gradually, softly—so softly that they do not seem to be fought at all.

   There is only a single candelabara still lit along the staircase and, rather unfairly, its light is draped across Dorian’s shape, reclining on the stairs in all his white and gold silk, all his appealingly flushed skin. He’s been dancing. That thought alone causes an unhappy and utterly ridiculous drop of Halwn’s stomach. It’s not jealousy, precisely, so much as it is a sense of loss. He wants Dorian to be happy in that simple way, and he’d not begrudge him a moment of it —but Halwn also wants to be a part of it, with an admittedly jealous want.

   “The Maker made us all from the same dirt, so the Sisters say.”

    Halwn cants a brow and forces himself to smile, though he’s sure it will be perceived as thin. Dorian’s no fool. It is thin, stretched by the insistent longing that he feels to forgo conversation unless it is to say:  I am in love with you. I have been in love with you for a year. Every day, though it seems impossible, I find I love you more.  They’re not foolhardy boys, making eyes on someone else’s staircase. Testing invisible boundaries. Are they? What should Halwn say? The truth?  Kiss me. I will spend every day for the rest of my life, short as it may be, desperate to make you happy.

    Even to him, it sounds like a poor bargain. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? Halwn is going to do it anyway, with or without the kiss.

    That thought lightens him, and Halwn’s smile grows a little warmer, a little more sly. Rather than retreat, he steps into the stairs and bends his body slightly, over Dorian—nearly the same as he’d thought of doing, though missing the press of them together. No, he’d not go that far unasked. He holds himself at a passable distance with a hand on the riser just above and beside Dorian’s head, unable to resist a slight grin at the offended, almost appalled expression on the mage’s face at their sudden proximity. Dorian had given him that look, after all. That should have been the end of it. Still, even as the mage begins to turn towards indignity at Halwn’s sudden defiance of their rehearsed rules, the Inquisitor lifts his own chin and takes keen note of the way that Dorian, perhaps unaware of it, tips his head back just a little in a perfect, answering accommodation of the motion—as if in anticipation of a kiss that hasn’t yet been delivered.

    Halwn smiles, and draws a breath of the scent at Dorian’s throat, the same that’s in his hair, citrus and amber and a faint dark, floral spice, all mingled with skin and its sillage spread by the already long evening, and stands back.

   “I will say, unpressed, that you have polished yourself to a far finer sheen than the rest of us seem able—”  the mirth is gone from Halwn’s posture, replaced with an almost apologetic affection. It’s not his intent to push until something breaks, to trample over boundaries. That is not his nature. Still, he does want, in a way that has gone long unsatisfied—just a sign would be enough, such as Dorian has sometimes given him. A lingering look, an involuntary smile. An apple. An abundance of healing energy. Three long passages read aloud from a book that Halwn could not begin to honestly understand. A coy touch. A sharp rebuke. What else? A kiss. One, and Halwn would be satisfied.

    Halwn’s not a liar, so he doesn’t say such a thing aloud. Instead, he smooths a hand down the front of his jacket, sweeps a hand back through his hair, and sets his soft eyes on Dorian one last time in the dim light of the stairwell. Looks at him a little, and dips his head in appropriate contrition.

    “I should say goodnight. Elsewise, I believe there is a chance that it might go ill between us, and you might end the evening cross with me.”

    Dorian doesn’t answer, but Halwn thinks he hears a quick inhalation.

    “Goodnight, Dorian. Enjoy the party.”

    If you dance with another, please, think all the time of me.

[starflyfarm]

(hmgh the inbox is empty n im kinda bored so have sum incoherent thoughts n ideas abt lou under the cut)

(i think ive mentioned a few times tht lou likes singing but that is admittedly an understatement. he loves singing. he hears a song he knos the lyrics to and he feels incredibly compelled to sing tho his lack of confidence stops him in public spaces. u may hear a bit of humming when no ones paying attention to him tho)

(going off that there are certain kindsa songs he likes singing more than others, think its been mentioned that he likes higher energy music generally speaking so naturally thats the kinda music he likes to sing to but he REALLY likes songs he can just belt to it feels so satisfying to him. he is surprisingly good at adele songs)

(he cannot sing really rough throaty songs to save his life tho like just thinkin abt it makes his throat hurt. he likes a fair bit of metal and screamo n stuff but his voice is just too smooth to sing it. smooth but lightly textured. like vanilla icecream w the lil vanilla beans n stuff still in it. hes also not very good at whistling)

(hes mostly a tenor but he does have a pretty decent range and his falsetto is p decent tho it does hurt his throat)

(its also been mentioned that hes alright at guitar but i like 2 thnk inbetween whatever actual lessons he took the very first songs he taught himself were probably sum very embarrassing sappy little love songs w simple chords. u kno how it is when ur a repressed gay teenager)

(idk how any of yall read his voice but generally he talks kinda quietly, very much not a very loud or present person, which is good for not getting caught committing crimes but not very good for socializing as he has discovered.)

(his semi soft voice is decently reflective of his physical characteristics too, i think i mentioned like once that his hair is very thick and soft, but his skin is also p soft with the exception of some scars here and there)

(speaking of his more notable scars are a burn scar on his right forearm from when he was really young, no one remembers exactly how he got it but it had something to do with a kitchen accident, and sum cut scars on his left shoulder from shortly after he’d moved out of his mom’s house. he also has various minor scars on his hands and wrists from handling/playing with cats and getting into the occasional knife fight back in the city as well as a very small scar on his upper lip from a time a dog bit his face when he was young)

(u might not guess it but he is incredibly clumsy and does not have the best spatial awareness when it comes to like. objects. he does fine not crashing into people but hes probably bumped into a lamp post at least once)

(idk if its ever come across but he also does lots of hand gestures when hes talking. snapping his fingers or shaking his hands when hes tryna think trying to illustrate what hes talking about with vague motions. he does a lot of shit w his hands in general, tapping fingers on surfaces drumming his hands on his legs, doin peace signs n finger guns and playing with his fingers/clothes mindlessly)

(hes also the kinda person who has an idle animation™ when hes not distracted by talking to someone or just paying attention to something he’ll probably rock back n forth on his feet or bobbing up and down probably to the rhythm of a song stuck in his head or something, speaking of songs, again, humming is a thing he does too)

(if u read the previous 2 points and thought “that sounds like stimming” ur exactly right)

(he stumbles over his words a bunch when hes excited, even if hes trying to keep his cool stumbling and stuttering are some of the most tell tale signs of him being excited tho it also happens when hes anxious or flustered. id say it applies to strong emotions in general but it absolutely does not apply to stuff like when hes real angry or sad)

(when hes real angry or sad his speech tends to actually be much more concise, he’ll speak slower and take time to really consider his words. when he’s angry both his expression and the words he chooses have the potential to cut like a hot knife thru soft butter, and when he’s sad hes more considering his words to try and keep from bringing the person hes talking to down)

(ive drawn him with a sketchbook a couple times but he probably has a journal with some writing in it too, nothing serious just thoughts he has sometimes phrased with flowery words but its not like. super amazing poetry or anything. hes no elliott)

(speaking of sketchbooks he absolutely draws his friends from time to time. hes incredibly embarrassed by it and hed never show anyone but he does it. a lot of his doodles are accompanied by lil thoughts and comments he has while makin em)

(back when he worked for joja i like to think he was like a phone operator for like. the joja help line or smth which is an oxymoron and he probably spent most of his work day getting yelled at by ppl over the phone. he does not like talking on the phone. much prefers texting)

(idk how clear ive made it on the blog but he absolutely hates morris. morris is probably the only person in town who hes like physically threatened. morris has thusly elected to avoid fucking with him as much as physically possible)

(i think its been mentioned he carries some kinda pocket knife on him at all times but he also likes to carry one a those novelty combs that looks n acts like a switchblade but its not. mostly just to fuck w ppl. pull out what looks like a switchblade then open it and hah uve been fooled it was a comb all along)

(speaking of combs bcus his hair is thick and wavy as mentioned before hes gotta take real good care of it or it gets. Unmanageable. when he was a teenager he didnt take care of it for a while n it got so long and tangled it broke like 2 combs it was awful)

(that in mind he is prone to getting wicked bed head. catch him when he first wakes up and its like a rat king was planted on his head)

(also did i mention he has several knives? pocket knives switchblades hes probably got a decorative dagger in a box somewhere, and ofc his monster fighting sword. he probably has a pair of brass knuckles somewhere too)

(its defintiely been hinted at more than a few times but lou is a huge foodie. he is always hungry and loves food but he cant stand mint or bitter tastes sometimes he has a hard time w sour stuff too. he likes spicy and savory/umami/w/e foods best, and while he does have a decent sweet tooth he can make himself sick off sugary stuff pretty easy especially w really dense sweets like fudgy brownies n shit)

(the reason hes not so good w mint and bitter things is cus his senses r very keen and bitter and mint are very unpleasant to his mouth and nose. theyre intense and stick around much longer than theyre welcome and it just feels bad ykno. this in mind he could not explain to u why he likes spicy stuff as much as he does)

(hes also really sensitive to like actual temperatures, especially heat. if it gets too hot and humid it can make him real nauseous n give him a migraine, hes better in the cold but even then it makes him really sneezy n sniffly. this is moderately ironic considering the previous point)

(jhjh im gonan stop here bcus this is getting super long but this is absolutely not all the stuff ive thought of. its mostly just the more lighthearted n mundane stuff that i could remember off the top of my head lmao)

[ravenaveira]

Just wanna clarify a few things after my long review/rant at the end for KH3 Re:Mind

My comments about the Sokai stuff I stand by, but I wanna be clear because I see Sokai shippers claiming antis complained about the lack of Sokai for it to be a believable relationship and now that Sokai has more moments we’re complaining about them shoving Sokai down our throats.

I cant speak for all antis on this, so I’ll be strictly speaking for myself on this issue and anyone else who feels similar to me. Warning it gets long again so be ready.

Yes Im one of those antis who complained about the lack of Sokai which made it underdeveloped and unbelievable, and yes I am also complaining about them now shoving Sokai down our throats.

Why? because Kingdom hearts is not a romance, and throughout every single game so far romance has taken a severe back seat and handled very subtely. For example Sora’s drawing in the cave of him giving Kairi the Paopu fruit, Riku teasing him about wanting to give one to Kairi, Sora saying hes always with her and promising to come back for her, Roxas calling Kairi ‘the girl he likes’ etc

All these moments were very short, subtle, and to the point. It was not a primary focus nor was it blatantly shoved in your face like

I mean in almost EVERY shot they were together Sora was holding her hand, which isnt something he usually does? keep in mind Sora and Kairi’s feelings have been known to eachother since KH2 and Sora still didnt behave the way he is now. He was always very awkward and uncomfortable/shy when it came to romance.

In KH2 Sora didnt hug Kairi, nor did he hold her hand, it was KAIRI who initiated the hug out of relief and happiness to see Sora again and that hes ok. Sora did not show the same sentiment and treated her like he always has, just casually walking up to her and just nonchalantly saying ‘You are different Kairi, but Im just glad your here’ as if she wasnt kidnapped and being held hostage this entire time. He should have showed the same concern for her as he did for Riku and Kairi for him but he did not, he just said that and then turned away and apologized.

But in KH3 Sora/Nomura pull a complete 180, Sora hugs Kairi to shield her from Terranort with his body instead of pulling out his keyblade and blocking his attack. Him hugging Kairi there was not only stupid, but it doesnt even defend her, Terranort will just kill Kairi AND him now. That was just a forced out of place Sokai moment for the sake of shoving a Sokai moment that was completely unnessecary and could of easily had the same impact by having Sora do the common sense thing and BLOCK with his keyblade like he did for Riku when they were in THE EXACT SAME SITUATION.

See the difference? good, then I need say no more.

This is only one of many situations where they would shoehorn in a Sokai moment that was completely out of place, didnt make any sense, or just forced in trying way too hard to convince you how much Sora cares for Kairi and how much they love and want to be together forever etc etc

Another example being when everybody ‘dies’ in the keyblade graveyard being swept away by heartless. Sora only loses his mind and breaks down emotionally after Kairi is the last one swept away, he then says the most inconsiderate line he could have ever said.

He says this while RIKU IS RIGHT THERE BESIDE HIM, even if you were arguing he was just speaking figuratively thats still no excuse, he was NOT alone but at that moment he just completely disregarded Riku as if his presence there was the same as being alone.

Not only that but seconds later he does one of the most out of character things for him.

Sora just WATCHES Riku risk his life holding back the heartless to protect him and Sora just WATCHES him fighting off this huge horde of heartless BY HIMSELF and not ONCE does Sora make ANY attempt to get up and help Riku despite knowing his life is at risk trying to hold them back alone.

Even if you wanna argue Sora was in shock, when has that ever stopped him before!? when have you EVER known Sora to just sit back and watch his friends put their lives in danger and NOT help them?

What makes this worse is thats not even the first time he does it, he sits back and watches AGAIN as Axel gets bodied right infront of him just to have him exhausted next to Kairi because you know, Sora’s never fought strong opponents and gotten right back up to protect his friends before.

Remember Terranort? Sora was overpowered by him and still made the effort to run over and hug Kairi to shield her from his attack, but Axel and Riku? nah just gonna chill and watch. This is BEYOND out of character for Sora.

When Axel told Sora to hurry and save Kairi, who was being held hostage by the organization and was in danger, Sora refused to leave him and stayed behind to help him fight. Sora chose helping Axel over Kairi, he put saving his enemy before his own friend/love interest.

When Neku betrayed him, Sora still helped and protected him when he was in danger

When Riku stole his keyblade and Donald and Goofy followed him and left Sora behind, yes Sora was discouraged but when he saw Beasts determination to save Belle no matter what, it encouraged Sora to do the same for the people he cared about

I could go on but you get my point, Sora saw Riku risking his life, literally dying and he did NOTHING, try to justify that all you want but that was incredibly out of character and was obviously put there to show how losing Kairi broke him.

I know your probably gonna argue it wasnt just Kairi it was everybody, and to that I say this, if it wasnt just about Kairi why didnt Sora snap when Ven and Axel got bodied? he froze for a few seconds but then snapped out of it thanks to Riku. After that everybody gets swept away, but the game made sure to put EXTRA emphasis, slow motion and all, to Kairi and Sora reaching out to eachother and then Kairi being swept away by the tide.

THATS when he snaps, if it truly werent just about Kairi they wouldnt have made sure to put emphasis on her being swept away, EVERYONE would have gotten the same treatment if it were truly their deaths also that made Sora fall apart. Im not saying he wasnt upset or heartbroken over them, Im pointing out how they made sure to single out Kairi as the most DEVASTATING loss out of all of them.

Yet again, he has Riku one of his closest bonds if not the closest right beside him yet he doesnt even acknowledge him? he says hes alone even though Rikus right there? you cannot justify that as anything other than downplaying Riku to boost Kairi up.

You do not see the other trios treated this way, every trio has equal focus for ALL of them and even the romantic hints for some of them [Roxas/Xion, Terra/Aqua, technically Namine/Repliku] have all been treated equally and did not feel forced or out of place but very natural and they still made sure to focus on the friendship bond between them overall.

Axel doesnt get played down in importance to Roxas just to boost Xion up, their friendship and bond with eachother are equally important to one another despite whatever ‘romance’ there might be. Same applies to Terra and Aqua, Ven is not played down in importance to them. As for Namine and Repliku they arent a trio but their romance was still handled well and it didnt overshadow their platonic bond or attempt to play down the real Riku or vice versa to boost the other, Namine was equally important to both of them.

So balancing romance and friendship CAN be done in their trio, but for some reason Nomura insists on pitting one against the other and playing down one over the other, in Sokai’s case thats Riku, which is an insult to his and Sora’s bond. The same way Sokai shippers felt the over-focus on Sorikus bond was a disservice to Sora and Kairi’s bond, its the same issue.

But lets get back to Re:mind because besides a few bad moments, overall KH3 was atleast passable with the Sokai nonsense. Then comes Re:Mind and oh boy...the damage control was strong in this one.

Again as I said earlier the Sokai moments in this game were very forced and out of place and in many ways out of character for Sora.

For starters the excessive hand holding, why? to convince us their a thing? but Sora suggests otherwise

Even after all the excessive hand holding, the hugs, the forced moments etc, in the end Sora still calls Kairi a friend. After aaaaall the forced Sokai bs they shoved down our throats Sora still friendzones her, which is it Nomura? you either want them together or you dont, stop playing games and pick a side already.

Dont get me wrong Im glad he hasnt made it official yet but after all this its like enough is enough, either follow through or cut this shit out and go back to being subtle like before.

Another huge insult was Sora constantly saying how his journey started with Kairi, since when? I remember Sora losing Kairi AND Riku that day not just her. I recall Sora not going back to Destiny Islands with Kairi BECAUSE he wanted to continue his journey to find Riku, but apparently in Re:mind it was just all about Kairi, nothing about his journey involved Riku no it was only Kairi that was his main motivation, gtf outta here man.

You can say something over and over but that doesnt make it true, Sora’s journey started with BOTH of them, lets stop playing down Riku’s importance to once again boost Kairi up.

That hug when Sora finally reunited with Kairi after restoring her was so obviously trying to make up for all the years of people complaining about Sora’s lack of reaction to Kairi in KH2 in comparison to Riku, so having him hold her for several seconds floating in the sky should rectify that right? you believe he cares about her now right? fuck off man. If your gonna do damage control than atleast dont make it so obvious that thats what your doing because then it comes off disingenuous, forced, and fake.

But my biggest issue is the ending where they really shoehorned Sokai where it didnt belong, literally stalking everyone else with the exception of returning Namines heart and Sora helping to reunite Chirithy with Ventus. But in Twilight town, why were Sora and Kairi there? they werent with Roxas but just sitting above them

Why were they at Mickeys castle? again their just in the background sight seeing.

These scenes were completely unnessecary and completely out of place and made the ending WORSE rather than better. Why? because these are Sora’s final hours ALIVE whether you argue only for a day or a couple days, in all of these ending scenes only one thing matters to Sora and thats Kairi.

Before we assumed everything that was shown all happened the same exact day and we didnt see Sora with any of them. But now we have confirmation Sora WAS there yet he only spent his last remaining time with Kairi in the background while quietly stalking everyone else? even if he didnt spend time with anyone else, he should have spent his last remaining time with Kairi AND Riku, after all hes his best friend and would like to spend what little time he may have with Sora too but we dont see any of that. Hell this contradicts Soras own danm words to Chirithy prior to this.

Instead of just shoehorning a bunch of Sokai in the background why not show the three of them FINALLY all together again like the old days? this is wtf Im talking about. We saw ALL the other trios together but the Destiny trio? hell naw fuck Riku lets have Sora spend all his remaining time with Kairi, thats the only one who REALLY matters here. After being separated from eachother constantly, now they finally have the chance to be together again and spend time together as friends and they DONT.

Instead Sora decides to take Kairi around the worlds hes visited, something he said he wanted to do with Riku as well, and just spend all his remaining time with her, even though in the base game before the final battle Sora was concerned why Riku was all alone and not spending time with them together. But here? nah fuck Riku. I remembered how important it is to share moments with friends only applied to Kairi.

So personally idc that theres more Sokai moments, my problem is the execution. It doesnt feel genuine, it feels forced and awkward and just doing damage control to pander to the rabid fanbase thats been screaming for this type of content for years, well congrats, you got it.

My problem is Kingdom Hearts was never about romance, it was always subtle and not shoved in your face, it felt natural and not forced and like there was atleast SOME heart behind it, but this? just felt hollow and forced.

Just stop, Im glad in the end Kairi just sleeps for a whole year and probably still will be sleeping when the next game comes out and the focus will shift to Riku and his search for Sora along with the other keyblade wielders doing their part as well.

So Im thankful it seems like we’re done with this crap and getting back to what ACTUALLY matters and what people really wanna see from this series.

Notice how nothing in either of my posts had to do with Soriku as a couple but about their bond as friends, enough said.

So dont try to twist this into just being about pairings because its not, its about what this series has always been about being forgotten for the sake of a fucking trash ship that nobody cares about besides rabid shippers and Sora’s bonds with his other friends being completely thrown out the fucking window to shorehorn in a bunch of unnessecary Sokai moments as a desperate attempt to convince people that these two love eachother which at this point if you have to try so hard to CONVINCE people of your pairing its obvious your doing a very shitty job at it.

Im done, this is my last long post about this for a while but I really needed to get that all out there since nobody else seems to be calling it out for what it is. My anger and frustration is still very fresh and it shows so I really need to stop talking about it because at this point? Re:Mind just ReMinded me why the Destiny trio is the worst out of them all, it is the most unbalanced and quite frankly feels more like Riku is a third wheel at this point and not even a part of the trio anymore. Before Kairi, it was always Sora and RIku yet hes the one whos being pushed aside and forgotten about in all this. That pisses me off.

So Im done with this topic, I need to cool off for the next couple of years till the next game comes out where hopefully Kairi stays asleep the entire time and NOT ruin another game.

[thedistantstorm]

Project Compass 08

Read Along on AO3 Here

<< Previous Chapter << >> Next Chapter >>

This time: A conversation in Sy Bisti. Thrawn gives Ezra good news.

Next Time: Vah’nya pulls Ezra aside. Ivant gives Ezra some tips on fighting the Grysk.

-/

Shock was a common occurrence among soldiers. Thrawn had seen it in many theatres: space battles with pale faced new ensigns, undercover missions seasoned veterans never fully returned from, ground troops executing an enemy for the first time. Soldiers he could relate to, Chiss or otherwise. Was his presence preferable or soothing? Unlikely. But he knew how to intervene.

Ezra Bridger might be a Jedi, but he was a soldier, too. He'd come of age within the Rebellion's militia-like structure. He adapted well, and Thrawn had not forgotten that he'd infiltrated an Imperial Military Academy, either. Thrawn could deal with talking down soldiers far better than he could deal with Navigators. The question was whether or not his subconscious would register Thrawn as an enemy due to their history.

In Basic, which Thrawn had not spoken for weeks in the other man's presence, he asked, "Is Navigator Un'hee's presence helping or hurting?"

Un'hee shot him a dirty look. He ignored it.

Sitting in the middle of the couch, Ezra's dazed expression didn't change. He licked his lips, swallowed, but no words came.

"Navigator," Thrawn intoned, not gently but hardly rude. "I ask that you leave us."

"I don't want to leave him alone like this." She reached for one of Ezra's hands, and the young man twitched, clenched tightly to his knees.

"I will stay with him," Thrawn said. "I fear your Sight is hurting more than helping."

"I'm being careful," Un'hee argued. "I know how he feels and you know it."

"He also knows how you feel, Navigator Un'hee," The glow of Thrawn's eyes were muted, indicative of his attempt to remain calm, and inspire it in her, too.

"Ivant said he was coming to talk to him," She said, pushing herself up from the cushion to Ezra's left. "After he finished with Admiral Ar'alani."

"I will be sure to expect him, then," Thrawn replied, derailing Un'hee's hope that the threat of Eli Vanto in close quarters would allow her to stay. "Please, Navigator."

Thrawn was not naturally impolite, in fact it was the opposite. But he retained a firm grasp of order, and did not often ask. Un'hee sighed. "If I can help…" She trailed off.

"I will send you a message."

The girl doubted she would receive anything, but still obeyed his request. When the door shut behind her, Thrawn rose. Ezra's eyes followed him without seeing. "I suspect you feel cold," He said. "I will return with a blanket."

The aftermath of a battle tended to hit far harder than the battle itself. The subconscious caught up to the conscious mind, the cocktail of chemicals produced by the neural system of the body dissipated. Thrawn procured two blankets instead of one, taking the top layer of bedding from each of their bunks. Ezra was normally cold.

He considered his datapad for a moment. Then, considering for a moment her surprise, Thrawn balanced it on his lap to send a message to Un'hee.

-/

The door to the suite opened slowly, drawing Thrawn's gaze. The brighter light that spilled in from the hallway was eclipsed by a shadow far larger than that of Un'hee, who he’d been expecting. It had only been a few moments since her confirmation message came through that she’d return with something warm for Ezra to drink, likely caf. Thrawn listened to the first, heavier footfall and was on his feet in a second. Ezra turned his head warily, jolted by the quick motion of the man beside them.

"Captain Ivant," Thrawn greeted, voice hollow. Beside him, Ezra blinked, and attempted to rise, swaying in place. The Commander prepared to keep him down with a hand, but the Captain spoke first.

"At ease," Ivant said in Basic. Despite the darkness in the room, he made no effort to turn up the lights via the touch panel. He smiled at Ezra, much like he so frequently smiled at the younger Navigators, and the young man seemed to sink back down into the cushion. Then, the human’s gaze canted up, meeting Thrawn's. The smile wasn't entirely gone. "Please," He said, directing that familiar drawl and those warm brown eyes at the Chiss.

For a moment, Thrawn could almost pretend there was no bad blood, no uncomfortable tension between them. Then he blinked, and logic won out. "As you wish," Thrawn said tightly. Something in him coiled, making him feel uneasy.

There were three mugs between his two gloved hands. He placed the first before Ezra. Caf, Thrawn realized. Ezra looked down at it slowly, then back up. Ivant tilted his head. "It's way too hot to drink now," He said kindly, hardly expecting Ezra to take it. "Let it cool a while."

The young Jedi’s eyes were hazy and dark, unfocused, but he nodded slightly before a tremor ran down his spine. Ivant didn’t press him on it, nor did he comment when Ezra pulled the blankets wrapped around him closer. Thrawn watched his charge with an appraising eye. Bridger was a special case. He had very little parenting or security in his upbringing. It made people protective of him.

Ezra Bridger also had a big heart and a desire to help. Thrawn clearly felt somewhat indebted to him. Ivant separated the remaining mugs, balanced precariously in the crook of an arm pressed against his side and in his non-dominant hand. Eli moved that one to the dominant hand as to prevent spillage of the last one and held it out to Thrawn.

He eyed it warily, lips thinning. “You did not need to-”

“I did,” Vanto interrupted. His eyebrows went up as he silently appraised the Chiss. “You think he’d talk to me like this without you present?”

Something about that made the discomforting sensation in Thrawn’s core burn. Still, he kept his voice without inflection, true neutral. “He would do as ordered, Captain. As would I.”

Thrawn took the mug and sat. Ivant stepped back, leaning casually against the opposite wall.

It was true. Thrawn is on thin ice, as the humans say. It is an appropriate expression, considering his home world. Thrawn has been on thin ice for a long, long time. Ivant studied him with his brown eyes, pupils dilated to allow him to see as much as possible in the dark. He did feel any embarrassment, there was no heat in his neck, or cheeks, or ears. He was dark in the spectrum that Thrawn could see with his superior biology. He felt lightyears away instead of just outside arms’ reach.

“If I make you that uncomfortable,” The human finally said, his voice lilting with the accent, soft and round, but just as firm, “I’ll leave. The kid can message me when he’s up for talking.”

Thrawn rose sharply, eyes flashing in momentary outrage. Ivant did not back down, stepping forward as well. He held his mug of tea between both hands. “I do not understand,” Thrawn said. He spoke again, but this time in Sy Bisti. Tension made itself known in his forehead. “I do not understand where I stand with you.”

Ivant looked into his mug as though it would hold some secret answer. Then, he lifted his head. He answered in the language he’d been spoken to. “I am your Captain.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

The beginnings of a smile passed through his face, smoothed out before it ever became anything more than a quirk of his lips. Mirth. “We are not the same beings we were at the start of all this,” Vanto said. “We have both had to make difficult decisions.”

“I am not proud of what I did, not all of it.”

From where they stood, Vanto looking up at him, Thrawn saw his eyes in totality and unobscured: a deep brown, like Corellian cinnamon and tang bark. He no longer held himself like his lack of height was a disadvantage. His chest was pushed out enough to be open, his stance comfortable but lacking arrogance. He did not yield, his stance did not relent, but something in his eyes eased.

“I know, Thrawn.”

Neither of them looked away. An impossible urge crossed through the Chiss’s logical rationale. A desire to reach for the man in front of him. A desire to make a connection. Thrawn wrapped his unoccupied hand around the warm mug of tea, threading his fingers together lest he be struck by yet another irrational proclivity.

Vanto tilted his head. Thrawn saw the lines beneath his eyes, the way the outer corners of them crinkled when half-smiled, bittersweetly. He wanted to dissect each and every micromovement, each like a brushstroke on an evolving canvas. He wanted to ask questions and analyze Vanto's responses, wanted to sit here and drink tea and pretend this was something it wasn't. That it was fine. That they were something more than allies. That-

The Captain's comm chimed on his belt and the shrill beep in the otherwise silent room made Ezra jerk, the mug of caf sloshing when he kicked the table. It brought the young Jedi back to himself, and with an easy wave of his hand he saved the mug before it went crashing to the floor.

The moment, whatever it had been, whatever it might have been trying to be, was broken.

“Ivant,” Vanto said, pulling the device around him.

“I need you aboard the Strikefast in twenty minutes,” Ar’alani said.

“Make it forty. I’m with the Jedi.”

She tutted, not thrilled about the suggestion. “How does he fare?”

The edge in Vanto’s tone was icy. His Cheunh was flawless, Thrawn realized not for the first time. It sounded like he’d been speaking it for his entire life, not three years, give or take. “Not well. Care to explain to me why I’m debating sending him to medical?”

“Recall your first encounter, Captain,” Ar’alani didn’t sound remotely concerned. “He will be fine.”

“Yeah,” Ivant rolled his eyes, half amused as he recalled wryly, “I remember. I don’t think you let me rinse my mouth out before you debriefed me.”

“I was prepared to do so in that tiny refresher in your quarters,” The Admiral’s voice hid a sardonic sense of humor between her words. “You may have thirty minutes. If you are not in my office within the hour-”

“I’ll be there. Ivant out.” He switched the comm off and turned to the Jedi. He gave a tentative smile, trying to shake off his funk. It would be a few days before he’d be back to normal, but he’d be alright, Ivant knew. Thrawn had dealt with this before. He knew what to do, and he wasn’t Ezra’s only resource aboard the Compass.

Ezra coughed nervously. “Did she really?” He asked slowly, testing each word on his tongue.

“Yes,” Ivant gave him a gentle smirk, a little wry. “I’m better for it. But that’s not what you need. We’re going to talk about it. Your reaction isn’t entirely uncommon.”

“I’ve never,” Ezra looked down at his hands, sucking a drip of caf off his finger. “I think I’d rather face Vader.”

Thrawn’s head swivelled around fast, his response terse. “You jest.”

Ezra did not. “At least I can understand Vader’s motives. They-”

Vanto interrupted their bickering. He had a schedule to keep, “There are things in the universe that are simply and purely evil. A warrior does not seek to understand them, or to compromise with them.” Thrawn exhaled sharply, drawing the Captain’s gaze. “He seeks only to destroy them.”

“Eli-”

Ivant’s eyes narrowed, and the serious dark look was back. He addressed Ezra, “Starting tomorrow, you will meet me in the training facilities on the second level two hours before first shift. I will teach you how to fight a Grysk.” He considered Thrawn. That slightest bit of warmth in his eyes was gone, like their former discussion hadn't happened at all. “You are welcome to join us, if your duties allow.”

Thrawn frowned, eyes curiously blank, even for him. Ezra still hadn’t moved from the huddle of the two blankets wrapped around him. He wasn’t shaking anymore, but he still felt shaky and on-edge as he rose. “Yes, Captain,” Ezra said. His voice wasn’t as wobbly as he’d expected.

The Chiss swallowed, then nodded. He did not speak. It earned him a curious, concerned look from Ezra. But Ivant didn't comment on it, didn't rebuke him or draw attention to it.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay and speak with you longer," Ivant said in Ezra's direction, but something about that seemed off to him. His voice didn't have that quality to it - like speaking to a student, that parental, teaching tone he used with Ezra and the Navigators. Ezra suspected he was speaking to Thrawn.

But it didn't matter. Ivant was gone in seconds, twelve steps in a purposeful stride, the door hissing shut behind him.

Thrawn lowered himself back onto the cushion beside Ezra. They sipped at their drinks in silence until there were only dregs left, and they'd long since gone cold.

"While you were gone," The Chiss began, "Vah'nya allowed me to see an old colleague I served with in the Empire." He still cradled the mug between his hands, as if not sure what to do with them otherwise. "She defected," He clarified carefully. "She did not go to the Rebellion, though she brought news of the Emperor's product, Stardust."

Ezra turned to look at him. "Do I want to know?" He asked.

"I wouldn't tell you now if I thought it would make things worse," Thrawn reasoned. "But I would tell you. You deserve to know."

Nodding, Ezra looked down at his hands, tangled together while his forearms rested on his knees. "They won?"

"They did. I inquired about your friends, but there was not much information. They did not play a large role in the battle."

"Thanks for trying," Ezra's words were weighted with gratitude. "Seriously," He said, as though Thrawn might not have noticed the first time around. The Chiss had. He simply hadn't finished speaking.

"I was given the impression that the Captain would give you more details. However, I did learn why General Syndulla was not more involved, if you wish-"

"Of course I do!" Ezra turned on the cushion, facing Thrawn's right side. He no longer trembled from his earlier experience, his body tense with anticipation. "Anything," He said desperately.

"She was with child," Thrawn said. "A son."

Ezra flopped back against the couch, staring up at the unimpressive ceiling, tinged gray in the dark. For a moment, he layed in the strange, awkward position he'd thrown himself back in on the remaining free cushions. His breaths came soft but smooth. Deep, and centering.

Thrawn almost wondered if the Jedi had fallen asleep. He'd certainly come upon the young man sleeping in creative and very uncomfortable situations.

"Thank you," Ezra said. "For telling me. And for asking."

"You are welcome," Thrawn said. Then, "Jarrus was the father?"

Ezra propped himself up in his elbows, looking at the side of Thrawn's face. "They were best friends. Partners, in and out of battle," He said as if trying to craft a relatable expression for the Chiss, then added, "They loved each other."

Thrawn turned to look at Ezra, not entirely sure what to say. He was no stranger to the concept of love. It was not far from certain aspects of loyalty, dedication, or devotion. Though he doubted very much that he'd felt it, even in his youth, something in the Commander's gut burned at the unspoken implication in Ezra's words. He thought of Eli Vanto’s cool-dark gaze looking up at him, of I know, Thrawn, of the way he held himself like a man who finally started to understand what he was worth.

He never did get an answer to his question.