#i feel like the fandom is so quick to make him a trouble maker but he wasn’t really
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toddtakefive · 14 days ago
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Realistically I know it’s because he didn’t have a choice, but now that I’m in college getting my degree (and constantly on the verge of death because of it) it’s really starting to sink in that Neil was a straight A student, and how much more tragic that makes the way everything turned out.
Quite literally he was as perfect as he could have been for them. Obedient, charismatic, intelligent, committed. He had straight As. He had straight As. As in As in every class. As in passing everything. As in not falling behind in any regard. As in keeping up with an insane amount of course work every day, on top of three school mandated clubs, a secret society that usually met in the middle of the night, and a secret play with rehearsals that were held off campus.
It makes his father saying he thinks he was taking ‘too many extra cirriculars’ at the beginning of the film feel like an even bigger slap in the face, because it’s incredibly obvious that Neil could have balanced all of it with ease. Considering how their spat goes when Neil expresses discontent with the decision to be taken out of the annual, I can’t even give him the benefit of the doubt by saying he just didn’t want to chance it. Neil liked it, that much is obvious, but Thomas saw no long-term benefit to him being involved, so it had to go. Anything not directly contributing to his plan for Neil couldn’t stay, no matter if it brought Neil joy.
All paired with the grace Neil still gives his father in between his frustration with him, and the fact that Neil isn’t afforded the same. Neil is always backing down, always rationalizing, always falling back in line, and Thomas is always pushing and disregarding and coercing until he gets his desired result—Neil’s resolve breaking. Their relationship is such a constant show of domination, and that fact is always passively in my head, but every time I think about it too long my chest starts to hurt.
And the thing that really gets me is the kindness Neil still shows to others despite it all—the fact that he inherited his father’s quickness to anger, and his stubbornness, and his tunnel vision, but not his cruelty. Neil is so spirited, and gentle, and open-minded. He goes through life desperate to be listened to and desperate for control and still remembers to be good instead of spiteful. And he has his moments, because he’s human and a teenager on top of it, but he never loses himself to it. He’s never rude, he never belittles others for struggling, he never lets his standing as one of ‘Welton’s finest’, as Nolan said, get to his head. Even with all the odds stacked against him, he stayed good.
He was a supportive friend. He was an amazing actor. He was an understanding son. He was a sensitive person.
He was a straight A student.
It’s literally sickening.
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strawhatsweets · 3 years ago
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watermelon sugar (NSFW)
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Denki x Fem!Reader
Cw: use of the word cunt, sex under the influence, unprotected sex, weed usage, drinking, oral (fem recieving), creampie, only aftercare is a blanket LMAOOO, general grossness at the end
Ill be honest its not my best lmao sorry- leave my mistakes and plot holes as replies and ill fix it-
WATERMELON SUGAR - HARRY STYLES
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
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The music in the club was loud and the air was filled with laughter and the smell of booze. Denki’s small group of close friends met here frequently after hard weeks- drinking and venting in a place loud enough to carry their complaints away with the music. Walking up to the table his friends gathered around in VIP, Denki avoided bumping into any strangers, pushing through the crowd as quick as he could, knowing full well he was going to get an ear full for being late as it is.
"Yer late, dumbass." Bakugou growled, sliding a glass of Denkis favorite alcohol to him from across the table.
"Sorry sorry! Got caught up in fuckin' paperwork." He sighed an apology, taking a swig from the glass.
"Its okay, Bakugou is dramatic." Kirishima patted the electric hero on his back, chuckling.
"Glad ya made it." Sero offered, already feeling his head becoming fuzzy from drinking. He'd had a tough week.
tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin' and it sounds just like a song
Glancing around, Denki looked at all the people on this side of the red velvet rope. He saw fellow heroes, sidekicks, and generally important people in the community. VIP was generally more lax and tame- the lack of fans and trouble makers making easier for pro heroes to destress. It also made it easier for certain pros to smoke as they pleased.
A song change made Kirishima hop up, grabbing Bakugou by the arm and dragging him out to the dance floor.
"Jesus christ, shitty hair." He grumbled, but went with him anyway.
Sero looked at Denki, smiling lightly at him "You had a stressful day too, Denks?"
"Yeah- just so much shit happening. Dont wanna think about it- I need another drink." He sighed, standing up.
"Cheers to that!" Sero slumped in his seat, letting his brain fog over, looking at his phone. He would probably end up texting someone something stupid, but Denki wasn't too worried.
Walking past the ropes, he stepped onto the floor flooded with people. Pushing through, he spotted an empty spot at the bar and made a beeline for it. It just happened to be a spot next to a pretty girl- not that he was complaining.
Ordering his drink, Denki took another look around the crowded bar, seeing Kirishima dancing on a reluctant-but-into-it Bakugou.
i want more berries and that summer feelin' it's so wonderful and warm
"Here ya go." The bartender said, putting Denki's glass down just out of his reach and walking away.
"Thanks. Dickhead." He muttered, standing up slightly, reaching over for his drink. He didnt realize how close your glass was, however, and bumped it on the journey to his own.
"Shit!" You exclaimed at the same time as him, both grabbing your drink before it knocked over.
"Sorry!" He said, taking his hand off and reaching for his own.
"Youre fine- bartender shouldve set it closer. Hes too busy to care it seems." You scoffed, turning towards the stranger. You quickly began admiring his blonde hair and the black lighting bolt in the midst of it. His eyes found yours and you both smiled. "I'm Y/n."
"I'm Denki." He cheersed your glass in an awkward way and you both laughed, taking a sip.
Before he could say anything else, a girl came over, draping her drunken self on his shoulders.
"Oh my GOD YOURE CHARGEBOLT! Youre so hot take me home-" She was cut off by another girl, pulling her off the hero.
"Im so sorry about her, thank you for all that you do, sir." The sober friend said, dragging her buddy away, ignoring her cries of Denki being her soulmate.
"Wow- youre uh. Popular?" You chuckled, making Denki turn red.
"Yeah- uh. Hero. Usually I'm in the VIP part but needed a drink." He explained, not trying to seem stuck up.
"Oooo Mr. VIP." You teased, making him chuckle.
"Shut up its to avoid people like that- not that I dont appreciate my fans- I just like to be...away from that some times." He stumbled over his words.
"No need to explain yourself I get it. It must be tough." You take another sip of your drink, looking back in his eyes.
"Do you wanna come back to my table with me?" He asked, not even realizing he was speaking. It just came out.
"Oh- shit yeah sure! You're sure its okay?" You asked, trying to be polite about the sudden situation.
He stood up, reaching his hand out to you to hold on to as you both grabbed your drinks. "'Course it is. C'mon." He pulled you to the back of the club to the velvet ropes, not paying any mind to those around him. His mind was only on the feeling of your hands touching and how soft your skin was.
breathe me in, breathe me out i don't know if I could ever go without
The guard in front of VIP allowed you and Denki through, and you found your way to the table Sero was slumped at.
"Heyyy you brought a new friend!" Sero said, not moving much. He lit a blunt and inhaled deep. Passing it to Denki, he asked for your name, and you asked his as well.
Feeling a nudge, you look to your side to see Denki handing you the blunt. 'Fuck it why not.' you thought to yourself, accepting the gesture and inhaling yourself.
Denki couldnt take his eyes off of you as you breathed in the smoke, taking note of how the club lights hit your face and made your eyes glisten. It felt like a stupid movie as he locked his eyes on your lips as you blew the remaining smoke out, handing the blunt back to Sero. Your tongue came out and you licked your lips, making Denkis mind go blank.
"Denki?" You asked, noticing his zoned state.
"What? Oh- yeah sorry." He laughed lightly, looking away to hide the blush on his face.
"Youre fine-" You were interrupted by the addition of 2 men at the table, the blonde taking the blunt from Sero.
"Fuckers couldn't wait fer us to get back?" He grumbled, putting the blunt to his own lips.
"Hey! Who's this? Im Kirishima!" The tall redhead said to you, sitting on you side opposite Denki.
"Oh I'm Y/n!"
"The hell you back here for?" The grumbly blonde asked, looking you up and down.
"Shes here with me, Bakufuck." Denki said, suddenly feeling possessive, slinging his arm around your shoulder.
"I'll fuck you up, Spark plug."
"Thats Bakugou, hes a bit much at first." Kirishima explained to you with a smile.
"No sweat." You laughed again, taking note of the dynamics at the table.
i'm just thinking out loud i don't know if I could ever go without
The conversation between all the men picked up around the table, and you just observed. It was nice to take a break from thinking, instead admiring all the guys and how they were built like gods.
A hand gripped your shoulder, Denkis way of bringing your attention to him. You turned your head slightly, meeting his eyes.
"Hey." He breathed.
"Hi." You giggled.
"Whatcha thinkin' about pretty?" He asked, looking down your top not to discreetly.
"Ah, nothin. Letting my mind have a break." You admitted, feeling the wetness start to pool between your legs from being ogled so openly.
"Understandable. You look real good in that ya know?" He complimented, making your thighs squeeze together.
"Thanks, you arent so bad yourself, Mr. hero." You shoved him lightly.
"You really here alone or did I take ya away from someone out there?" He asked, the two of you falling into your own world.
"No I came alone. Promise." You looked at him through your lashes, making his dick start to stir.
watermelon sugar high
The blunt was passed to Denki again, allowing him to take another hit, this time holding the smoke in his mouth and reaching around you to hand the blunt to Kirishima who was sat on your other side.
Grabbing your face lightly, Denki pulled you in and pulling your bottom lip down slightly, your mouth opening as he blew his smoke into your mouth, effectively sending it down to your lungs as you kissed him deep.
"Get a room!" Bakugou barked.
Pulling away, Denki whispered as he brushed your hair behind your ear. "We just might have to do that."
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watermelon sugar high
Stumbling into Denki's apartment after you got out of the cab, you leaned against the couch, taking your shoes off.
"Nice place, handsome." You complimented, watching Denki take his jacket off and walk to you with hungry eyes.
He grabbed your hand, pulling you into his chest and almost making you dizzy from the way he pulled you away from the couch in your hazy state.
Dragging you by the hand to his room, he walked you to the bed, pushing you down on it lightly. He bent down, getting close enough to your face to feel your breath.
"You want this, pretty?" He asked, needing one more word of consent before he fucked you.
"Yes, please." You sighed, letting him push you back lightly and lean down over your body and kiss you.
Your head felt like it melted into the pillow as he crawled over your body, greedy hands all over you.
Pulling back, Denki tugged his own shirt off over his head, leaving you to shimmy your dress down as best you could.
"C'mere." He sat you up while he rested in-between your legs, pulling your dress over your head instead of shimmying it down like you were trying to do- the both of you stopped in your hazy states to laugh at how messy you both were. Dress tossed aside and tits fully out, Denki shoved you back down, hungrily kissing you.
His kisses began trailing down the side of your face, down to your neck, and right to your sweet spot. A moan fell out of your mouth as he sucked a hickey onto the spot that felt the best and his right hand grabbed your tit.
"Denki-" You moaned out, making him grind his hardening dick against you.
Your hands found his hair, tugging lightly, making you both moan and grind your hips together.
tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin' and it sounds just like a song
He pulled himself away from your neck and chest, sliding down and settling his head between your thighs as he moved them further apart and licked you through your seeping panties. He continued to nip and lick your clit and slit through your panties until you were begging.
"Denki please- need it so bad-" You whimpered, your own hands toying with your tits.
"Well since you asked so nicely." He yanked your panties off and admired the glorious sight in front of him. Your glistening cunt was clamping down around nothing and he needed a real taste. His tongue found your entrance and your back arched off of the bed.
"Denk-"
"Kaminari baby. Call me Kaminari." He had pulled off of you just long enough to tell you his last name and dove back in, determined to hear his name roll off your tongue. His last name always made him feel more authoritative and he craved that feeling.
"Shit!" A finger plunged into your pussy as your hand tugged his hair. "Kami!" You couldnt get the last of his name out as you were gasping.
The sound of his own name made him rut against the bed. All he knew what that he needed more. He was addicted to the sounds you were making.
i want your belly and that summer feelin' getting washed away in you
"Shit- Im gonna cum-" You barely finished the statement before he shoved another finger into you, making you squeal and writhe against the bed, cumming all over his fingers.
He jumped up after licking up all he could, pulling his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and slotting himself in-between your shaking thighs, lining himself up with your slick hole. Wasting no more time, he pushed himself into you, making the both of you whine in pleasure.
Youd never had anyone as good as Denki fuck you. He was the perfect length and girthy enough to stretch you out. It felt like heaven when he bottomed out, hitting that sweet spot just right.
He pulled back, snapping his hips back to yours. He found the pace that made you whimper and your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you felt your second orgasm creeping up on you.
"Like that, baby? You like that huh?" He taunted you.
All you could do in response was moan. Words escaped you as the fluttering in your abdomen became a tight knot.
"Cant even talk huh? Cant even fuckin think, yeah baby? Fucked you du-umb?" He stuttered, feeling your walls squeeze his dick, knowing he wouldnt last much longer.
"P-please, Kami." You managed to moan out, making it harder for him to hold back.
"G'na cum too baby. Shit- cum with me." He demanded, letting you both fall over the edge of your climaxes, thrusts never ceasing, overstimulating the both of you.
The sensation of his warm cum filling you up made your mind go blank as you screamed out in pleasure. His response was much of the same, groaning out your name as his hips stuttered.
Once the both of you made a mess of yourselves and the sheets, he collapsed next to you. The air was heavy but comfortable as he yanked a blanket over the two of you, pulling you into his chest.
He wondered for a split second why he was so comfortable, but he decided not to think about it too much as you both fall asleep, too exhausted to clean up, not caring about anything in the world.
i just wanna taste it watermelon sugar high
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taglist: @maggiecc @lovemegood
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x-childish-x · 4 years ago
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could i request an obi wan x femreader fanfic where anakin says, “I see the way you look at her master. That’s how I look at padme everyday,” to obi wan? and then later in the story, padme and anakin say prompt #1 to each other (from the main prompts list) after seeing obi wan and reader sharing a kiss? i hope this isn’t too long sorry (T_T)
That Look
Pairing: Obi-Wan x fem!reader
Fandom: Star Wars
Warnings: FLUFF, kissing, female reader, librarian reader
Word Count: 1,305
A/N: AHHH! THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST IT WAS SO CUTE! Oh my gosh, I'm sorry if you didn't want a librarian!reader but the idea of Obi-Wan with a librarian reader just melts me in a different way. Anywayssss, I really hope you enjoy this, and that it's what you wanted. I appreciate all the support, feedback is ALWAYS appreciated! Sorry, it’s a bit long!
Summary: Anakin teases Obi-Wan about the look he gives you, not knowing it'd help your relationship with Obi-Wan move to the next level.
PART TWO
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"Hello, Master Kenobi, Master Skywalker, Padawan Tano," You smiled softly at the three Jedi's entering your library.
"Hello (Y/n)," The trio said in unison.
"So," You started, walking from your cart where you'd been putting books back into their spots, "How can I help the three of you?"
"Well, we--" 
Anakin was quick to cut off his Master, a large smirk on his face, "Obi-Wan wanted to come to see you. He insisted the books Ahsoka would need we'd only find here, even though I got mine from the upstairs library in the temple."
A blush crept onto yours and Obi-Wan's cheeks, making Ahsoka and Anakin smile, "Well, I uh... well."
Ahsoka rolled her eyes, quickly stepping in for Obi-Wan's stuttering clutter of words, "I wanted to come to visit you anyways. I know I still haven't returned that book on the history of the Old Republic."
You smiled at the younger girl, "Oh, it's fine, Ahsoka, I'll extend your date. I assume you need the next level of Jedi books?"
The young girl nodded, "Please."
"Of course, I'll get them real quick."
Anakin smirked, patting Obi-Wan's back in an attempt to make the older man stop giving you literal heart eyes. The Jedi Knight gave his Master a shove, sending him after you as Ahsoka laughed at Master Kenobi's awkwardness. It was something she felt she hadn't truly seen until just now, watching the older man stumble after you with a slight hop in his step.
"(Y/n)!" Obi-Wan called, making you turn to him with a smile, "Sorry, eh.. about Anakin, you know how he can be."
"It's fine Obi-Wan," You felt a blush slowly begin to creep up your neck and onto your cheeks as the Jedi-Master fell into step beside you, "I was hoping you'd come to visit me soon anyways. It's quite lonely being the only one running the lower division of the Jedi Archives." 
The older man smiled widely, taking a second to watch you struggle to reach one specific book Ahsoka needed. Smugly, the Jedi used the force to bring the book out and into your outstretched hand. You mumbled a quiet thank you before moving to grab the last book Ahsoka needed.
"(Y/n)," Obi-Wan spoke suddenly, taking the books from your arms and clearing his throat, "I was... I was wondering if you'd like to... grab coffee sometime?"
A smile broke across your face as you nodded, "I'd love that, Obi-Wan."
With that, the two of you walked back towards the younger Jedi's. Obi-Wan handed the books to Ahsoka, and Anakin simply smiled at you, watching the way Obi-Wan's gaze fell back onto you. You made some small talk with Ahsoka and Anakin before the trio declared it was time to leave, and you retreated to your cart, putting away books.
"You have that look," Anakin teased the older man immediately after they sent Ahsoka to drop her books off in her room.
"What look?" Obi-Wan asked, his eyebrows scrunching together.
"You know," Anakin smiled, nudging the older man, "That look."
"Which is??" Obi-Wan questioned, rubbing a hand to his chin.
" Oh please, Obi-Wan, I see the way you look at her, Master. That's how I look at Padme every day," Anakin scoffed, smirking at his Master.
"I have no clue what you're talking about," Obi-Wan replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Please!" Anakin laughed, "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're a flustered little boy around (y/n)!"
"Anakin, someone could hear you," Obi-Wan warned, his eyes looking around casually, "Then we'd both be in trouble."
Anakin smirked, turning to his Master, "Are you saying you're opposed to the idea of leaving the Order for her?"
"N-no..." Obi-Wan sighed, "If she said the word, I'd leave the Order immediately. But she's not my girlfriend."
"Please, Master! You don't fool anyone by saying that!" Ahsoka's voice rang out as she joined the two older men.
Obi-Wan sighed, turning and beginning to lead the two away, "Why am I talking to the two of you about this?"
"Well--"
Obi-Wan quickly raised his hand, cutting off Anakin, "Rhetorical question, Anakin."
⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅
It'd been a few days since your coffee date with Obi-Wan, and it'd become quite routine for him to walk you to and from work each day. His former Padawan picked up on it quickly but stayed quiet on the matter. Anakin didn't want to be scolded by Padme again, not after her lecture about teasing the older man for finally being happy.
Anakin just happened to be lucky enough to live in the same apartment complex as you, so he got to see Obi-Wan drop you off each night, which he enjoyed. Maker knew he couldn't wake up early enough to see Obi-Wan pick you up to take you to work, missing all the quick cheek-kisses his Master would give you.
You knew you liked Obi-Wan immensely, and you felt it was mutual judging by his actions. While you knew Obi-Wan was a Jedi and technically couldn't have any connections, you still hoped that something would change. That the Jedi Master would make a move, confirm it was all mutual, and just kiss you! God, you just wanted him to press his lips to yours! You weren't getting any younger, and the war wasn't getting any better!
"Look," Anakin mumbled, elbowing Padme, "There they are."
"Oh, Ani, won't you leave Obi-Wan alone!" Padme rolled her eyes at her husband's behavior, but she still looked down from their balcony, watching you and Obi-Wan interact.
"Thank you, again," You smiled widely at Obi-Wan, "For the ride."
"Of course," Obi-Wan returned the smile, pulling your hand up to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "It was my pleasure."
"I don't work tomorrow," You reminded Obi-Wan with a slight pout.
His eyes dropped to your lips, admiring the way your bottom lip jutted out just slightly, "That's truly a shame,"
He gulped, his eyes struggling to focus back on yours as he watched your lips move as you spoke, "But I'll see you the day after, right? Early for our coffee date?"
Obi-Wan nodded, smiling softly as his eyes finally locked back onto yours, "Of course."
A peaceful silence filled the air, and like most times when you were left in silence with the Jedi Master, you found your eyes drifting to his lips and wondering what they'd feel like against your own. You knew your 'goodbye' was lasting far too long now, but you hated saying goodbye when you wouldn't see him the next day. After a few more seconds--and noticing that Obi-Wan's eyes were also on your lips--you felt a spike of confidence rise within you, and you let out a dramatic sigh.
"So, Master Kenobi, are you gonna kiss me, or am I going to have to kiss you myself?"
A soft laugh fell from his lips as he quickly leaned across his speeder, pulling you in until your lips met. It was gentle and full of passion, exactly how you had always imagined it. He held you like you were the galaxy's finest jewel as he kissed you, only making you swoon more at the Jedi's lips molded with yours.
Above, Anakin was frantically gripping Padme's arm, who herself, was frozen in shock.
"Oh, maker! Maker! I knew it, kriff I knew it!" Anakin cheered quietly, "I called it, oh, Obi-Wan is so getting teased tomorrow! I knew it! I told you, they're good for each other."
Padme smiled at her husband's childish reaction, "You think so?"
"Please!" Anakin laughed, "They were destined to be together!"
Padme simply giggled, walking back into their apartment with a shake of her head. She couldn't say she disagreed because Obi-Wan and you truly were a perfect pair. A pair that was destined to be together.
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bubbleteaa · 5 years ago
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➴ D o u b l e  t r o u b l e
double trouble;; fandom: haikyuu!! pairing: Miya Atsumu x fem!pregnant reader, Miya Osamu x fem!pregnant reader genres: fluff, Atsumu being a dumbass w/c: 1.1K (HOW?? WTFFF AKJSDS) a/n: thanks for the request anon! And thank you for your words, I love you!<3
Summary: Their s/o has a surprise for him. And after a time, they realize that it is no longer a surprise, but two surprises.
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Miya Atsumu;;
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WHEN YOU TELL HIM ABOUT YOUR PREGNANCY
• He would think that you are joking, though. • “Nice one, bae. Ya think yar smar’, don’t cha? Think again” • “Atsumu, I’m serious” • “C’mon bae, ya can’t be serious. Ya wanna laugh” • But you were awfully serious. With a pregnancy test between your tiny hands. • And then he realizes that you are not joking. • If you weren’t his s/o, he would legit run away. • “Well, that was a nice fuck. I just rememba that I don’t like kids, see ya” • But you are his s/o. So, he would be in shock. His eyes stick on yours, analyzing what he could say without making you mad nor frustrated. • “I guess my dick issa miracle maker, righ’?” • It sounded better in his head. • He knows he fucked up a little bit the air in the room with his comment. So he just walks towards you and hugs you tightly, his face bidding in the crook of your neck. You tremble a little because of his actions, but you just let yourself in between his softness and affection. • “I’m happy, ya know” he mutters against your hot skin, smiling lightly “I’m truly happy” • “I’m happy, too” your words kisses his dyed hair, one of your hands still grabbing the pregnancy test, the other one caressing the strands of his hair “I love you” • “I love ya too” he closes his eyes, imagining yourself with a baby. His baby “And to our little one, too”
WHEN THE REAL SURPRISE APPEARS
• “My dick is really a miracle maker, bae” • It must be really a joke, maybe the doctor was clearly blind and instead of another head, it was just an incredible big hand, or feet or a second brain. • But, fate seems to love twins. Too much. • “Yes, there are clearly two of them” your obstetrician looks at you with a playfully smile “Twin twins” • Atsumu is happy. Like, tooooo happy. He convinces himself that he is some kind of a fertility ancient god and that his mission in the Earth is to have twin twins for at least three times. • “I’m so cool bae” •  And he would be also very, very, very clingy towards the babies. And would spoil them without even know the gender. •  “Lemme see my cutie pies” •  “We needa buy ‘em some matchin’ clothes” •  “If we have gals, they would never date a guy” •  “I wish we could have gals, bae. They would be as cute as ya” •  “Imagine two lil’ Y/n’s running in the park bae” •  And he would like to have boys, too. •  “Wait, I know I say whatavaout’ gals but think about boys” •  “One spiker and one setter” •  “Omg I have to call Samu, wait bae” •  He will brag to everyone about the news. He will legit post at least the same picture of the ultransound 10 times on his social media. • ”OMG LOOK AT MA BABIES ARENT THEY COOL???????” •  “Just here to remind ya I’ll be father :D” •  “You wish you could have the life I have, loser” •  At the end of the day, he would always lay at your side and put his head on your lap, looking at your belly, smiling. • He would always run his hand carefully over your skin, feeling them quick from time to time. Sometimes his eyes would cry a little bit for the future you hold in your body. •  The future he wanted with you. •  “But they are a true miracle, my love”
Miya Osamu;;
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WHEN YOU TELL HIM ABOUT YOUR PREGNANCY
• Superior twin. •  He would probably know about your pregnancy before you. • Like, he legit is the one that cooks for you at 2 a.m., How was he not going to know it? •  “Samu?” •  “Yeah?” • “I’m pregnant” • Unlike Atsumu, he doesn't think it's a joke, nor does he make any out-of-order comments regarding the news. She just smiles lightly at you and caresses the crown of your head. • “I already knew it, though” he mentions you after a while, looking you in the eye. He smiles slightly and press a chaste kiss on your lips "I was just waiting for you to confirm it" • “I have to talk to Tsumu, tho. I just won a bet” • “Bet?” • “Yeah, I’m the one who is getting marry first and having a child first” •  Yes the mf will propose to you. I stan that. KJSHDJSA •  You blink for several minutes analyzing the situation. His hands are on your belly “What?” • “I want to spend the rest of my life with you and with our baby” •  It’s impossible to say no to that, tho.
WHEN THE REAL SURPRISE APPEARS
• Now, he didn’t see this coming. • But i’s quite funny, ngl. • As always, he was accompanying you to appointments with the obstetrician. Both of you were calm, especially since it hadn't been long since the last visit. It was just an impromptu date because you said that your hip hurt a lot, and honestly, Osamu wouldn't risk anything happening to you or your baby. • But yeye, now something happened to you and your baby. • They multiplied. • And now there are two of em. • “Is that another head?”  • “Oh, yes. It seems that you are having twins” •  “Like twin twins???” • “Uh, probably. Mr. Miya, you have a twin twin, right?” • What a coincidence see ya in there lil samu and tsumu. • Now, prepare yourself for OVER OVER PROTECTING OSAMU. • “Don’t carry that, ya will hurt my onigiris” • “Y/N. Go to sleep, our babies needs to rest” • “Sit”, “Yer feet hurts, ya can’t lie to me”, “Yar goin’ to the bed now”, “Ya dontcha need to go out, do ya? Of course no” • He cares just too much. • sPoiLES YOU AND THE BABIES TO THE CORE. • “Samu, I’m hungry” • “Watcha want bae?”  • And he will cook you everything. Even if he run out of ingredients, he would call Tsumu or someone to bring him some-because he will NEVER leave you alone at home-.  • “I need more katsuobushi and panko, go get me some” • “Oh hello to ya too Samu, how is my favourite bro-” • “Tsumu, just brin’ me the ingredients and stfu” • The babies WILL HAVE matching clothes. Don’t even try to stop him.  • Cute nicknames for the babies? Bet. • “Oni and Giri will love this, bae” •  “Wait, how did you call them?????” • Anyway, he will be very careful with you. Even when you cuddle. He will try his best to not harm you or make you uncomfortable. • “Is this position alrigh’, bae?” •  “I can change if ya don’ feel fine” • “Please lemme know if you feel comfortable” • Kisses. On. Your. Tummy. • Like. A. Lot. • HE LOVES WHEN THEY KICK YOUR TUMMY. HE LEGIT FALLS MORE AND MORE IN LOVE AHHHH IM SOFTTT. • “They are moving”  • “Yeah, they know their daddy is here, they just love you too much” • He would smile so brightly that your heart will do UWU UWU UWU.  • “I love them more” • He is just the perfect dad:( you can’t change my mind.
。・:*˚:✧。 C h e e s e  c u l t : @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji  @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma  @kawanisshi @milkandc00kiez  @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @kawaiikraykray @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei​ @pineapplekween​ @estherwritess​ @keiji-n​ @achoohq​ @badlywritten-hq​ @mochibeaa​ @oinkanna​ @chxrry-wxne​ @spudicide​ @airybby​ @asranomical​ @karmasuna​
。・:*˚:✧。 G e n e r a l  m a s t e r l i s t: @trashys-things​ @softforshigi​ @groundzeroagency​ @edensxgarden​ @pm4gal​  @yams046​ @thatfanfictionwriter​
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procrastinatorimagines · 5 years ago
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I Want Us Part 4
Fandom: SVU / Chicago PD
Series: I Want Us
Part 1 //  Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)
Pairing: Carisi x Reader
Warning/s: none
Word Count: 1,273
Summary:  When a child abduction case crosses state lines in New York, Intelligence flies out to meet the Special Victims Unit and track down the missing boy. With the clock ticking, both units decide to mix up partners in order to combine their knowledge of the case with knowledge of New York City, pairing Intelligence’s newest member Y/N with Detective Carisi. After successfully catching the suspect and saving the missing boy, Y/N ends up spending a little more time with Carisi than expected before returning to Chicago.
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You woke up slowly, stretching with your eyes still closed as you enjoyed the comfort of the bed you were in, many, many steps up from the motel bed you’d dreaded going back to last night. But you hadn’t, instead, you’d spent the night with Detective Carisi instead, something that had worked out in your favour in many different ways. 
The smell of bacon and fresh coffee filled your nose as you eyes fluttered open, smiling contently as you looked to find the other side of the bed empty. Slipping out of bed and throwing on Carisi’s shirt you made your way into the kitchen, following your nose until you found the man in question working away at the stove. 
He smiled brightly when he saw you, a look that made you feel warm inside as he took in the sight of you in just his shirt. “Hey, morning, you sleep alright?” He asked, tossing the bacon.
“Yeah,” you told him, wandering over to where he’d put out a second cup of coffee, his own next to him on the counter. It smelled amazing, and a quick glance at the bag next to his coffee maker told you that this was the good stuff, Italian roast by the looks of it. “You always make breakfast like this?” You grinned, only just noticing what looked like biscotti further along the counter.
“As much as I can, feels like starting the day on the right foot,” he replied, a little bit of an awkward silence filling the kitchen as you sipped the heavenly coffee in your hands, making a mental note to get your hands on some of it when you got back to Chicago. 
You glanced at each other, unsure of what to say, until finally you bit the bullet and said: “I don’t usually do... this,” you admitted, gesturing with one hand. 
Carisi smiled, “yeah, yeah me neither,” he agreed, making you feel a little better about the fact that you didn’t really have much of idea about the etiquette in these situations. “Not that I regret it or anything,” he added, a little hurried, cheeks going slightly red.
“What? Oh no, no me neither,” you confirmed, laughing a little, “I had a good time, really good actually,” you told him and he perked up.
“Yeah? Good, me too,” he said softly, sliding the bacon off the pan and onto a plate and making his way over to where you were stood. He dropped the spatula into the sink near you and gave you a kiss, soft and lingering as images of the night before flashed through your mind.
You were so lost in the moment you hardly heard the beeping of his phone, Carisi breaking off the kiss and apologising to you as he switched off the alarm. 
That’s when you saw it, the time.
Crap. Oh crap.
“Is it that late already?” You asked, eyes wide as Carisi paused, phone screen still visible in his hand. “Oh god, I didn’t even think-” you started to panic, looking around for your phone and spotting it on the other end of the kitchen counter. 
Carisi let you past, “it was flat so I put it on charge, didn’t turn it on though, sorry,” he told you as you as the screen flared to life. “I probably should have woken you up...
“Thanks,” you said, only half listening, sighing at your own stupidity as about a dozen missed calls from Antonio came up on the lockscreen, “oh, and no no, I never mentioned my flight, that I am already going to be so late for... I am so screwed.”
You pulled the phone out of the charger and rushed back to the bedroom to throw on your clothes, feeling a little guilty about rushing out on Carisi. But what choice did you have? As much as you wanted to stay, if you didn’t get this flight you were going to be in big trouble with Voight, and you already had to rush back to the motel to grab your bags. 
Reappearing out of the bedroom, discheveled but fully dressed, Carisi closed up a box of food and slipped it into a carrier bag. “At least take some breakfast with you,” he offered. You accepted it gratefully, patting yourself down one more time to make sure you had everything you’d come up with. 
“I’m so sorry about this,” you apologised but he waved you off.
“I understand, don’t worry,” he reassured you
“I’m glad we did this though, and not just because we saved a kid and caught a bad guy,” you said as he walked you towards the door, grabbing your arm and pulling you back as you went to open it. You knew you’d be thinking about the kiss the whole flight home, feeling a little breathless when he finally moved away, brushing his lips against yours one more time.
“I’ll see you around Y/N,” he said, stepping back so you could leave. 
“Bye Sonny,” you breathed, giving him one last smile before heading out the door, the feeling of his lips still tingling on yours.
-
“You’re late,” Antonio told you as you rushed to catch up to him outside the airport, hair a mess and buttons of your shirt most likely not done up correctly. You were supposed to meet up with your unit for breakfast before you headed back to Chicago, but you’d barely managed to grab your luggage and check out of the motel before rushing to catch up to them at the airport.
You’d had some of the food Carisi had made in the cab ride over, regretting how quickly all the romance from the previous night had replaced with a quick kiss and lots of panic. The food wasn’t helping, it was way too good to be eating in the back of a cab, and you wished you’d been able to spend more time there this morning.
You felt bad about leaving like that, especially after the night you’d just had, but you were barely awake as you half stumbled into the airport, the others having gone through to check in while your partner had waited.
“We were either going to leave you or call a manhunt, where the hell were you?” Antonio asked, falling into step together as you went to catch up to the others, just about having enough time to get to your flight.
“I was... sorry, I overslept,” you blabbed, not a lie but not exactly the whole truth.
Antonio looked you up and down, taking in your dishevelled appearance before letting out a telling laugh. “Uh huh, sure, where exactly? Because your motel bed was unslept in when we went to get you,” he said pointedly, as if sussing out exactly where you had been but wanting you to say it. Detectives.
“Oh, I er, well I...” Wow, you thought, smooth, no one would believe you’d even been undercover with how you were fumbling in that moment, finding yourself surprising flustered.
Antonio just laughed more. “Special Victims gave their regards, and another congratulations on a job well done by the way, you weren’t there but I guess Carisi already filled you in that,” he teased and you rolled your eyes, looking away as you started to blush.
It was going to be a long plane ride home, you thought to yourself, but you had no complaints. Still, you wondered if you’d ever see him again. 
Intelligence and SVU had been brought together more than once now afterall, and you had a feeling that you’d find yourselves brought back together before too long.
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alittlefrenchtree · 4 years ago
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Hiii, it's me again! I actually want to quickly move forward in my reading and not fall behind with notes. Because it makes less sense to write them if I already know what's going on 7 chapters ahead. So let's get started.
SPOILERS DUNE BOOK II : MUAD'DIB (Chapters 5-9)
Chapter 5:
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*happy sigh 😌😌😌*
(learn silence, people. It's important.)
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You already know how much I love this litany and if there's more in it, I'd be delighted.
Ok, I actually have a nerdy not really funny story about moving dunes. When the worm pops a bit later, Paul describes it at mound-in-motion and there's actually some truth about that. I've recently read an article (and I want to read more about it) about dunes and some scientist thinking that dunes are moving and communicating with each other (in their own mineral, sandy way of course). It sounds fascinating so I let you know if I learn more stuff more or less related to Dune.
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This both hurt and feels relatable somehow, even if I don't know how exactly. I like the idea of things approaching from a different angle, of Paul being the only motionless point in a world that keeps spinning around him. The key then wouldn't be to change the world or even to do anything but only to adjust his own position in the universe so he ends up what he meant to be. And the sentence is pretty. The vision appeared to have shifted and approached him from a different angle while he remained motionless.
I still wonder how it works though. The visions and their changes. Do they significantly shift every time he comes close to death? Or say the litany of fear and survive? Or is it more realistic, the smallest details and decisions becoming the biggest changes? I wish Duncan would have been there with them and yet I like this journey through sand and survival just between Paul and Jessica. He probably would have been killed soon after anyway. Unless he's not really dead. Ok, moving on.
Remember when I said that Paul could have/find a way to control sand worms? And now he's saying this:
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There are a lot of cues in these few chapters about worms, about riding (or whatever it's called) them with the hooks, about how they're in all likelihood the ones creating the Spice? That's why they're called makers? And that's what the Fremen who died with Hawat was about to called them? I kind of hope there is more to it though, other than only being respected because they're making the spice. There is another quote at the end of the chapter that intrigued me about the relation between Paul and the worms:
He looked at his hand. How inadequate it appeared when measured against such creatures as that worm.
I really like this chapter a lot. Firstly because I love scenes with only two characters so this is delicious for me. Secondly, I love reading about walks through endless lands with nothing but nature, so double yummy. Thirdly, there is a lot of informations. About the worms, and about how Paul is evolving in the desert. There is the rescue of his Mom but, even more importantly, how he rescues the pack. I think it's a very important scene both literally and metaphorically. It doesn't seem like an important scene but it really is in the building of the Paul's character. I hope to see it address in some way in the movie. Because not only he uses the Spice for another purpose than money and getting stronger or smarter or higher, but he uses it to take back what's necessary for his survival in the desert. If that's not adapting to Dune, I don't know what it is.
Chapter 6:
This is going to cause some trouble at some point, isn't it? Halleck and his people teaming up with smugglers, thinking the Atreides are dead. He's going to end up fighting against them without knowing it, right? 😔
Chapter 7:
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Moooom, I love him so much 😭😭😭
But, I hate not knowing what's going on exactly and I hate it even more when it's about Paul and Paul's power so we're all going to sit here together, read this again and again util we've rambled enough to come up with AT LEAST five theories about something.
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Like why. Why does he cross a time barrier at this precise moment? How does it work? He came close to death again so has he defeated another timeline where he was supposed to die? Hence the unknown territory, the darkness? Or are there defined blindspots? Around the worms maybe? Because of their spice maker job? Or is he just exploring and developing his new abilities? Learning to not rely only on his inner eye but on all of his powers and abilities? I need answers. I need to finish reading this book (books) and reading the theories of someone who's been thinking about every detail of them for the past 50 years.
I really liked this couple of chapters about Paul and Jessica's journey through the desert. You can really see Paul coming to terms with it. Fighting it, using it, accepting it, welcoming it. Seeing its beauty and his future in it. I'm looking forward this symbiosis. It looks beautiful.
Chapitre 8:
Ok, that was painful. Firstly, because I wasn't expecting to see Kynes die at this moment and secondly, because it was a very slow agony to witness. To be honest, I'm getting a bit tired to see characters die? It denies so much of the potential for characters development and for relationships development. The lack of it is going to become a bit sad for the whole story.
And it's heartbreaking to understand that Liet gave up his only chance of survival to save Paul and Jessica. I don't know how much he knew before, if he already knew he was going to die or if he thought he had a real chance but it's going to give so much power to Paul with the Fremen? If it becomes known that Liet died to save him and his mother, believing in them.
I supposed there is some kind of parallel to see here, between the previous chapter and this one, with Paul practically arising from the desert and Liet dying in it at the same time/shortly after? Like how Paul is supposed to take Liet's position of influence with the Fremen?
The chapter is also heavy on... social/political/ecological talks. Or one-sided conversation since the other side is dying. Not saying they shouldn't be there since they are the actual themes of the book but maybe it could have been made in a more natural way? Or not all at once?
But it made me think of Caladan. Which I could have done earlier, I agree. But Caladan is the planet of water, right? Water. The very thing Arrakis is lacking of and wants/needs. I would have like to see a bit more of Caladan, actually. How it was. How Paul was on it, actually. If he was as adapted as Caladan's environment than he seems to be to Arrakis'.
Chapter 9:
There it is. Paul as an outcast Duke finally facing Fremen forces for the first time.
This is a good chapter but I think the key point here is this:
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I scrolled past a post the other day (without reading it entirely because of fear of spoilers), that was saying how people thinking Dune was about religion hadn't understand it because it was a story about propaganda. But, at the risk of sounding blasphemous and as a non-religious person... Isn't it kind of the same? Religion, propaganda, fandom,... At some point, there was someone with high powers of influence who comes to make people believe in something (whatever it's true, partially true, partially false or entirely false) to make them adopt a specific behavior, most likely a form of submissiveness? (@ tumblr porn bots, i'm not talking about you). What people make of that belief, it's what really matters.
What interested me more here is to consider this in relation to the opening chapter quote.
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It's the eternal question with prophecies. Would a prophecy become true even if nobody knew about it or believe in it? Or do people, by acting according to it because they heard and believed it, make it real and effective? Did the Missionaria Protectiva create its own Kwisatz Haderach or would Paul would have been born with the same abilities and the destiny if they hadn't existed?
We see the future isn't set in stone in Paul's visions, but does his actions and decisions influence the shape of the future or is he just bumped from one predefined timeline to another? And are there really that much differences between the two? How many metaphysical questions can you write in one post?
Quick word about Chani before wrapping this one up. I think I'm going to like her? She seems cool at least. I'm not sure about Paul's reaction to her though. Yes, he supposed to be 15 but he's also something like half of a divinity so. *snorts*. Or maybe I'm just every day more tired of seeing romance being put everywhere and romanticized to the point of 99% people still thinking it's the ultimate form of love and relationship and the ultimate thing to achieve in life. OR maybe it's because everybody engaged in a classic couple-relationship immediately lost 12 points of esteem in my eyes. Don't know. Will see. I imagine I have to brace myself for Paul x Chani babies at some point, since it's 1964? If they survive that long. Very not looking forward to it. The babies, not the survival.
Anyway gotta go before I start wishing bad things to hypothetical fictional babies. Tschüss! 🌔💛
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shy-magpie · 4 years ago
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RQG 157
these things get long and are by definition one spoiler after another, so live blog under the cut
pre episode nonsense:
My hopes for this episode are mostly just the obvious: For Zolf to pull out of his spiral; for Azu to talk to someone about how she's doing; for Hamid to find his footing with the Kobolds (loving that they are devoting a proper arc to using unearned privilege/power rather than pretending it doesn't exist); more Cel lore; a Wug; and for someone to shake answers out of the Brorb. Not sure Alex is going to let us get to know the kids individually which makes sense as juggling 7 new NPCs would seriously cut into everyone else's screen time. I think we will get more of Skraak & Hamid working through their issues, and Skraak's helping the kids through recovery. If we are very lucky maybe Zolf & Skraak will talk rather than just have Zolf resent the Kobolds for putting Hamid in a place to fall into old habits. Okay lets hit play!
Episode live blogging:
Intros are quick: Zolf sounds low, Ben sounds higher energy than he was.
Oh the Brorb drawings come better when the other half is distracted but not thinking about the real topic.
Krakens are through out the globe, unknown numbers, not true instances of Shoin, network is down.
Cel and I both react to having Shoin be the one to come closest to a truly non physical form.*
Krakens are cloned brains in robot bodies. Specifically said Daleks not Jurassic Park.
Shoin thinks he sent a ransom note using the Kraken as a threat against the world.
Does not handle it well when Zolf hones in on that no one knows who he is, much less trembles at his name.**
Hamid follows Zolf's lead and twists it towards boasting about beating the Infection. The talking half doesn't seem to know how he did it as clearly as the drawing bit. Unfortunately its strictly surgical which would be hard to reproduce at scale even before you consider the side effects.
Quick huddle with the rest of the team:
Cel always wanted to go to London?
Zolf wants to ask more about how the infection works so they could prevent infection. Wilde thinks he is suggesting using Shoin's solution, I get Alex has to catch people up but I don't like Wilde being a paragraph behind me or underestimating Zolf.
Bryn wants to review the diary. Alex confirms the diary says he had a possible  way to "end it" as a whole.
They go back and Cel feigns being extremely impressed that Shoin might have a way to stop the infection. I think having time to regroup cut him off from his memory of the infection again. Alex spells out Shoin loses coherence whenever they bring up the infection/the time period around when he was infected.
Heal check time. Zolf crit fails. Azu got a 29 and can see where his theory was better than his surgery. It may be an aphasia (issues to with communication. can't get to certain words, some can't be spoken even if he understands the concept; others he can't understand if he hears them even if he uses the word/concept himself. Brain trauma, memory problems more severe the more recent you get, sounds like unable to store short term memory properly so anything longer ago than a week but after surgery likely lost.)
Cel switches to the simulacrum. He verbally dismisses it as a waste of time. His hand keeps drawing based on the previous question re:stopping the infection.
Alex calls for a sense motive. Zolf & Azu see the latest drawing is a landscape using technical notation. Its a barren mine. Yes! it's the entrance to Svalbard. Cel can see its a circuit. Alex makes us/Lydia wait until after he's done with the simulacrum stuff.
Shoin thinks using humans as your base design to improve from is the wrong approach, gives some credit to Francois Henri for taking a different approach.
The circuit maybe to transmit something, it needs an organic component. Cel couldn't roll much better then that so they probably need to kick it towards the Harlequins to set a team on.
Shoin is moaning about paying the bills. Took on the contract to provide Simulacrum fluidics to Damascus for the money.
Drawings change shape get less technical and focus on the cavern entrance. Ben catches it sounds yonic, Alex was trying to not go there but did he really think you could go from cave imagery to seed imagry without stopping there?
Hamid tries to get more on how he caught the infection.
Bryn and Alex spell out that to get answers you ask a real question he won't answer verbally but will answer with his hand, with a decoy to keep the talking him distracted while the hand answers.
Decoy question is about Harrison Campell.
Concept drawing of a person, overwhelmed by an image of a huge figure with lines going from the small to the large? Is he suggesting they plant someone they prepare to be infected, and have them infect it back?
Proofs? Minor changes between the proofs and published version of early Campbell books.
Another review session upstairs. Hamid's red string wall got cited as being useful! Cult of Hades/Wellington may have been the one to hire Shoin to make parts for Damascus. Zolf and Hamid talk briefly, about work and as dry "stick to the subject" as possible but they are talking productively.
Oh Ben finally gets in that the interrogation is hard on Zolf's knees because he has to keep his legs out of the cell. He snaps a little at Cel when they comment on cell vs Cel. Carter suggests "naughty box" which nicely derails that point of tension. Cel refers to Shoin as being more pleasant to talk to than Carter. Not sure if that undermines the tiny Cel/Carter ship or fuels it with tension.
Cel asks who hired Shoin to make Sim parts. He can answer directly. Well directly for him, it seems to be mostly justifying stealing Tesla's work on the basis that Tesla wasn't going to implement his theory. Hamid snipes him with a shot praising Edison to get him back on topic. Shoin says Edison was being backed by a big investor. Is it to much to hope this is Alex finally consolidating the factions? If Hades is Edison's investor (leaving Edison & co as effectively their minions, rather than a faction of their own) and the factory owners we can cut down on sides considerably.
He goes on about how he spied on Henri, religion as money maker. Shoin was directly approached by Hades lot. Shoin made sure his bits won't work since he didn't want competition. Wellington was his contact with Hades. Wellington always had a pair of cloaked figures.  Vinegar + squizard = funny? Could be useful.
Do not follow what is going on with the hand.
Shoin is still unstuck in time and thinks he is going to connect them. Cel unplugs the speaker on his villain speech. Cel induces a dream state by powering him down
~break~
Cel suggests  painlessly killing him. Zolf seconds the idea because its immoral to keep him like that. �� Hamid points out the longer the keep him around the more likely it is for someone to be infected. Wilde rules they should kill and seal it off.
Cel & Zolf have an argument about having the Kobolds handle the remains. Cel calls Zolf out on his inconstant stance on whether the Kobolds can be infected because if he doesn't believe that then he is risking them.
Wilde is moving on? Cel suggests letting the Brorb die, putting it in a bag of holding, keeping the bag in the anti magic field.
They can't just call Einstein because using unofficial channels is bad when irregular behavior is a sign of infection(?)
Alex's unhealthy attitudes about productivity are called out when he refers to the time Wilde spends thinking/planning before getting their transport arranged as "working" (with the inverted commas) rather than considering it part of the work.
They work out possible paths if teleporting is off the table.
And the boys are snapping at each other again. Zolf, you can't flip out every time you are reminded that Hamid doesn't have the experience or expertise of a seasoned sailor. Yeah you did leave the team without your skills and maybe the kid was a bit green for a field promotion; but you know what? He did a fine job, and the other choices were Sasha, who wouldn't lead, and Bertie, who shouldn't. Just because stepping down was the right thing to do, doesn't mean you get to lose it when you are confronted with the mere allusion to the idea it had consequences.
Barnes tells Hamid why going over the pole is a really bad idea. That Azu's suggestion is carrying Hamid has troubling symbolism.
Zolf actually comes more or less to Hamid's defense by pointing out that all their options are bad options, so having a go at Hamid's idea in particular is unwarranted.
I'm not going to bother listing out options. They will pick one or won't need to pick one. If we have been a very good fandom Alex may reward us with Earhart coming back as their preferred transport.
There we go, Hamid suggests her, Zolf seizes on the idea compliments Hamid on it, and immediately takes it to Wilde. Thank God he isn't so far down he can't do that. If he isn't compulsively shooting down any hope (especially from Hamid) then he really is on the upswing from the low brought on by quarantine stress.
Lydia isn't happy that there isn't going to be an American chapter. Then again we wrote off Svalbard, so don't give up!
Its the Northwest Passage and its so weird realizing that not everyone has it as a cultural reference. Wonder if it's an Oregon thing or a US thing.
Yes it would have been cool, but I think Alex is not going to let us have cool new story arcs when we haven't played with the ones we have at home.
Einstein and Earhart are our two best transport options. I am a happy fan. Especially if Zolf has to use his family and Earhart’s reaching out to him near the end of the journey to appeal to her. I mean we did get more on Zolf's relationship with his family than I expected after Paris, so I'm not going to sulk if they don't pursue this, but it would be nice.
Conflicted as a fan, its hard to remember that this taking months extra is a bad thing when the end of the series is feeling too close for comfort.
Zolf, look at you leveraging your experience with moving even when things feel hopeless!
Cel I love you, kraken as submarine is brilliant. Air kraken is suggested by Carter.
Hamid plays with the ideas while Alex goes "why?". Because you are going to have to work a hell of a lot harder than that if you want Hamid to see it as a no win situation rather than proof he needs to redouble on cheerful creativity. Feeling like he had no options led to the worst parts of Hamid's life, the things he is truly ashamed of; having few losses outside of those, he is going to make Kirk's Kobayashi Maru hang ups look amateur.
Zolf is heading to the beach.
Cel is checking on their village.
Hamid wants to contact Einstein himself, Zolf says he should talk to Wilde about that. Hamid wants Zolf with him for that meeting. Zolf either doesn't want to be a safety blanket, wants Hamid to get used to dealing with Wilde directly, or completely missed Hamid offering a chance to work together because he is incapable of seeing Wilde as an opponent. He does say some nice things about being a team.
Hamid tells Cel to say hi to Jasper for them. He is good at the people side of leadership. Remembering names and relationships, knowing how to show he cares because it's important to Cel without overstepping. If Zolf can learn to let go of the rank stuff, they could be an unbeatable team of co leaders.
Zolf nods at Azu. Azu smiles proudly back. Alex jokes about not liking giving them time to heal because they coordinate.
Hamid offers hugs to both Cel and Zolf. Because this entire character is a "fuck you" to toxic masculinity and he is not afraid to openly show affection to his friends.
Cel gives him a great hug.
Zolf hesitates but gives him a pat on the shoulder. Hamid's has high enough charisma to make that not awkward. Good kid, accepting that Zolf is reaching out as far as he can.
Hamid talks to Skraak. Hamid is worried about taking the kids. Maybe Skraak can convince them to stay & help Jasper with science. Because RQG loves us and wants us to be happy, they are considering a fantasy some of us harbored since "science" as a serious possibility. Could solve the issue with Alex not wanting the kids to take up too much screen time too. Skraak is the perfect character for Hamid to have as his second. He believes in Hamid, and can be confided in, but isn't going to take an ounce of self pity or bullshit.
Alex that village better be okay. Smoke? Controlled burn. Ben lightens the mood. The tank is still guarding the village. The barricade is up but they are guarding about as well as a village of level 0(1?) characters can be expected to.
They are having a party and there is a bon fire. Because Alex knows we wouldn't have trusted him if there wasn't a little scare with the smoke. !puns
The village is visibly healing since the weather is fixed. They thank Cel but know better than to ask.
Jasper! Jasper is looking good. He stepped in as a leader of the village. Cel and I could burst with pride. Jasper thinks Cel is coming to stay, Cel tries to explain they are going to help save the other villages around the world and mentions that Jasper would like the Kobolds.
!puns
* One day I need to hunt down the right corner of SF because there has got to be a decent amount of trans humanist fiction for trans humans out there somewhere.
**Not sure if I should feel bad for hoping this gives him a safe target for his destructive tendencies. Ideally Zolf would get past that point without indulging his dark side lest he reinforce bad coping mechanisms. Ideally Zolf would have weekly therapy without the fate of the world on his shoulders too. Its the more personal version of looking forward to a fight after Hamid's been stressed because he seems to find cooking baddies cathartic.
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zombiejoepino · 4 years ago
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The Scavenger. CH: 4 (Cobb Vanth x OC fanfic)
Chapter 4: The Snake
Fandom: The Mandalorian
Word count: 3972
Genre: Space Western
Summary: The Marshal visits the capital and things get tense between him and some strangers. Back in Town, Nathsca is figuring out how to leave just before she gets attached to the small community and its locals.
A/N: Took me longer to write this one, I´ve been busy with work. Hope you enjoy it and please feel free to leave comments if you can :)
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The speeder pulled up in front of a rundown blockhouse on the outskirts of the Capital. Bestine was known for having an expensive but legitimate market compared to smaller cities. Jawas and other scoundrels were not welcome. Anyone with shady intentions would be taken by the law.
The Marshal and his companions made their way across the large market, spotting various strange creatures, beasts of burden, and items for sale, most of them exotic and pricy. Farm folk would feel out of place in the New Republic guarded area. Vanth wondered if the New Republic's real intention to guard this city was because of the economic value, an opportunity to bring out the civilization to Tatooine.
Tatooine didn't seem like other civilized or fancy planets, but they got their own rules and ways to survive. Neither the Empire of The Republic didn't care much about the dusty land and lawless cities. They were aware of slavery going through ages and they didn't do a single thing about it.
He didn't let those thoughts get to him for long. His quest was simple and they needed to leave before the giant twins' suns set down to avoid night creatures or sand people.
Having that armor just gave him enough confidence to face them. Walking around in the rusted beskar made the locals turn around at times, maybe he got more attention than he wanted but, it was safer to show off a little. Even though, little thieves or trouble makers always managed to sneak around and, he wasn't that wrong.
Between the crowded market, he noticed a slim hooded figure walking around with two heavies, both of them with mean faces. They were packed, even the slim figure who didn't look like the one that calls for the shots but, the sneaky ones are always the worst.
The group didn't fit right in the picture, just like the Marshal. People would think of him as a paranoid or mad man, but once the Marshal got a bad feeling about someone, he wouldn't let it go that easy. And it was rare for him to make a mistake about someone's character.
The local marketer kept pushing, trying to sell him a carpet or fine fur. The Marshal just played along for the moment, waiting for them to get close to him.
This small group didn't seem interested in buying like locals or travelers. They were asking around for directions. No town in specific they just asked about the west. He picked on the words mining and old town.
The Marshal scanned the area discreetly looking for Marc and the rest of his companions. The last thing he needed was those strangers talking to them and jeopardize the secrecy of their town.
One of the heavies crashed with the Marshal and stopped to study him. The Marshal mirrored his actions. The heavy spoke in huttese, Vanth didn't understand his words but, he picked on his intentions. The armored man looked back at the heavy stranger. Both of them with their hands near the holsters, ready to pull at any moment. Shoot first or move fast.
Those seconds felt like an eternity until the pale slick jumped in.
"Excuse my companion's behavior. He never saw a Mandalorian before." He flashed his toothy smile. The heavy stranger just spoke gibberish and spit on the floor. Vanth shook his head and walked in the opposite direction. He had no time to pick up fights in the middle of the street.
"And now since we are both strangers in this town." Plog addressed back to him and followed. "Have you ever heard of old mining settling around the west? An old town?"
Vanth just played along, trying not to ask questions or hoping they wouldn't run with his companions. He shook his head. "Sorry, partner. No idea." He kept walking but the pale man insisted and followed.
"Are you sure? I heard you Mandalorians are good at hunting or killing. Perhaps you can help me with my quest. I'll pay handsomely."
"I've got other business to attend." He walked away.
Plog didn't dare to stop the armored figure but he got his attention. He knew what kind of folks stand out in Tatooine. He heard about another Mandalorian that went rogue from the guild but, he never saw this one before.
He spoke to the trawlers, the masked one. He asked him to followed the armored stranger.
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The giant twin suns shine brightly above the distant dune range. Nath stands watching them. Once the Marshal was gone the day before, the locals felt uneasy and even shy around the young stranger. They were not rude to her but they didn't engage in any kind of conversation either.
That didn't bother her at all. Her leg was feeling way better than yesterday. There was not much to do in the short town, to be honest. They had the cantina, a school, a storage place, houses and, that was all. She checked around the school just to know how many kids were in town. They just sat in the shadow while the droid teacher read something for them.
The teacher noticed the young lady and politely asked her to join. Nath felt uneasy at the start but she was pretty far from the nearest shadow to refuse.
The kids watched her with curiosity and even whispered between them. The teacher continued to read the story about the wars in the Old Republic, far away galaxies, and rebellions.
Nath remembered those stories for what she heard from pilots or other strangers that stop by the town. Scavengers focused on one thing only; stealing. They just taught her how to steal and be faster than Jawas.
One of the curious green-skinned kids scoots towards the redhead. He pointed at her knee and, she shrugged. "Just a scratch," she whispered. The kid nodded and showed her a similar wound on his elbow.
"I tried to ride a Bantha, they are so big." The kid spoke. "Are you the one that crashed the speeder? And then the Marshal saved you?"
Other kids quickly turned their attention to the stranger and she blinked many times. Now she regretted being there. Kids started to ask too much about her accident.
"Yes, I had an accident. Always keep your eyes front if you are driving." She tried to avoid other kinds of details.
"And are you staying too? Are you living with the Marshal? Do you like him? Are you his girlfriend now?" The little ones kept asking over and over. The teacher did its best to stop them. They were too excited to listen to Nath's story.
The redhead just laughed and shook her head. Her cheeks turned a little red as she was trying her best to reply to the kids.
Her story started when she was fixing a speeder in her hometown. The fastest one she could ever put up together, the bad guys showed up, wanting to take her speeder and credits. She refused and, the chase started; A long road across the dunes, both twin suns burning her skin, leaving behind all kinds of terrifying creatures. Her only mistake was that she looked back for a second and crashed.
The rest was vaguely told by the kids. They started to jump with random ideas and heroic deeds from the Marshal and how he took down the bad guys.
She did her best to dodge the last question about being his girlfriend but a dark-haired little girl kept watching her wanting to know.
"I'm just the Marshal's guest. Guests can turn into friends and that's it. I don't think I'm staying longer." She smiled softly at the kids. They pouted with her answer. Nath didn't want to get attached to this community. She needed to move on and even leave the planet if she wanted to escape from everything, and especially him; Qod.
She stood up and excused herself from the class.
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...
Cobb and the others made a quick stop in the dunes after the cargo went off a speeder. Their best chance was to drive slow if they didn't want to drop anything else in the middle of nowhere. They had fuel, meat, other weapons just in case the dragon shows up. That damned Dragon, they never knew when it would strike, but they were glad it's been away for the last days. But their problems, never end there.
The Marshal's mind moved to those trawlers and the slick in Bestine. They were asking too much about the west, about his town. If they were after the young redhead, then someone spoke about the town.
Tusken Raiders? There is no way to talk with those savages. Jawas? Maybe if they paid them enough just to spit a few words.
They were taking so much trouble to chase down a girl. He thought carefully about her actions and the mystery around her. Yeah, he had to admit that the young one had a fiery attitude, she knew how to punch and was a thief but, she was still a kid. He didn't want to push her around to tell him the full story. He needed to know the enemy.
Maybe he was getting ideas yet, being paranoid about the strangers but, he never let go of that thought.
For a long time, Mos Pelgo has been off the radar and, the Marshal wanted it to keep all heat away from it. They were practically young as a society after many years as a slave camp. Cobb would never risk the town's safety and freedom.
The speed stopped and, the others looked back in confusion. Cobb spoke to Marc and the rest to get ahead before the suns lower down. He had a bad feeling and wanted to check if no one was following them. His companions didn't ask for more and took off, leaving the Marshal by himself.
The long curved caves and rocky areas covered his path. Cobb looked around, guarding them and watching over the dune sea. If those trawlers came this way, he would put them down.
Cobb waited in the high ground and kept his rifle blaster close. For the next hour, he didn't spot anything out of place, just small creatures running around, trying to find shadow or perish under the sun.
The sweat was running down his temples, his mouth felt dry already. He thought about waiting for another hour but, the sky was getting its peculiar orange color. The suns would set down at any moment and, travel like that was not that smart.
A peculiar sound caught the Marshal's attention when he saw a speeder approaching. The rider was one of the heavy trawlers, the masked one. Cobb pointed the rifle, tracking the moving figure in the dune.
He kept his finger on the trigger and, both eyes studied the moving target. The dust-covered him for a moment.
Cobb took a deep breath.
The trawler moved closer, clear view, no dust around him, moving towards into the caves and, the Marshal pulled the trigger without hesitation.
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His target's head went back and, its body slips from the speeder, making it crash against the dune. The smoked covered the whole area around the target. Cobb kept his eyes on the sight, waiting.
The body didn't move in the first seconds and, then, it rolled on its back. He coughed and groaned in pain, started to crawl away from the smoke, trying to get into the caves.
The Marshal put the helmet on and flew down, going towards the heavy that cursed at him in Huttesse when he spots him.
Cobb landed on his feet, pointing at the trawler that tried to reach his blaster. The Marshal quickly kicked it away and looked down at him.
"Why were you following me?" The distorted voice spoke.
The trawler frowned and cursed again.
Cobb shook his head, step on his wounded leg and, the heavy grunted in pain.
"Speak." The Marshal growled.
The masked man spoke in Huttese and death glared at him. "The town..." he spitted the words.
"Why?"
The man just smirked at him and laughed. "You know where she is."
He threw sand at the helmet and quickly stand up. Cobb fired but, the trawler managed to dodge the blaster and knocked it off his hands. He threw a punch at the helmet but quickly regretted it when his hand hit it.
Cobb shoots out a straight punch to the trawler's stomach and then right into his face. The man backs off for a moment and spits blood on the sand, jumps over the Marshal and, both hit the dusty ground.
He takes off the Marshal's helmet and throws some heavy punches right into his face.
"I will take this beskar off your dead body." He yells in huttesse.
Cobb covers, hooks his arm around, and hits him with the elbow. The Heavy throws another punch into Cobb's face. The Marshal feels the blood in his mouth and quickly recover, headbutts the heavy right on the nose.
The man backs off with a bloodied nose, looks up. He pulls out a knife and slashes towards the Marshal, cutting his shirt. Cobb felt the sting on his lower belly and felt the blood sticking to the fabric.
He backs off, doing his best to dodge the sharp blade that the big man kept swinging like a maniac. Cobb catches his arm and trying to take the knife. The big one pushes further, using both hands to take the blade, trying to stab Cobb.
The heavy flashes a wicked smile, almost overpowering the armored man, but the Marshal twists his hand, making him scream and drop the knife. Then, Cobb sucker punches at the trawler, making him roll down the dune.
His body rolls down, hits a rock and, he groans when he stops rolling. He twitches and scans the area. The expression changes when he looks at the Marshal's rifle next to him, picked it up, aimed and, he took the first shot right between the eyes.
Cobb was at the top of the dune holding the smoky blaster. He took a deep breath and fell on his knees. He winced and checked the wound on his arm and belly.
That was close, he thought.
Once he recovers, he picks up the helmet and checks on the dead body. He finds a bag with credits, a knife, and nothing else. He had no puck.
...
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The giant twins set down over the dune, painting the sky with pinks and oranges purple clouds. Nath wasn't sure how long she walked, a bit further than the crashing place, into the grimy rocky areas. A farmer noticed her but didn't ask her much. She made up some excuse that he didn't buy at first but his attention shifted when the Bantha ran away from its pen.
Maybe other creatures would be observing her at this point and she didn't mind. She took one of the Marshal's blasters just in case a creature or someone tries to attack her.
She moved around the rocks, digging fast as she could until her hand hit something. She took a silver canister out of the hole and looked at what was inside. An icy color glowed out from the can, standing out in the middle of the sandy area. Nath rushed to cover up the hole until she heard a noise. Her head perked up and, her gaze scanned the area.
"Who's there?" She yelled.
There was a long silence until the small figure came out. Nath took a deep breath and shook her head. It was a little girl from school, the one that asked her those embarrassing questions.
"Hey, sweetie. You shouldn't be here, you know."
"Uh... I was worried that you were leaving."
"No, no, I just came to check... the rocks." She closed the canister and smiled at her.
The little girl bit her lip and made a face. "Shiny ones? We don't have those around here."
Nath smiled nervously but before she could reply a single thing.
"No, I'm... preparing a surprise."
"Oh?" The girl walked towards her and smiled.
"It's a secret thing but..." Before she played along with her lie, Nath heard a hiss right behind them. A medium-size creature slithered its way towards them and hissed, flashing the large fangs.
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Nathsca tried to stay calm and move slowly towards the frozen kid. She was shaking nervously and about to cry. The redhead did her best to get the creature's attention. The large snake kept its yellow gaze upon the kid, trying to look taller, studying her movements.
The redhead cursed to herself and lowered down to pick up the blaster. It felt like an eternity, any violent move would piss off the creature.
The little one just backed off slowly but, the snake followed her, flashing his fangs at her. The snake could feel the fear in her whimpers, he could see the horror in her eyes. It kept slithering its way until the blaster roar and hit him.
He hissed in anger, looking at the woman and the smoking barrel. He hissed and changed his attention to the redhead that ran towards the kid.
Nath picked the little one in her arms and fired the snake once more and, this time the reptile dodge the blast. They were pretty far from town to ask for help and the darkness was covering the area. She climbed the rocks, keeping the little one in her arms to protect her.
The little girl clung to her and then screamed when the large reptile jumped towards them. She helped the little one to climb first to the top. The snake attacked again, Nath swung the canister to hit it hard, making the large snake wobbled for a moment.
The snake jumped once more, this time making the redhead fall on the ground and lose the blaster. She looked down at the large snake, whose fangs stuck in the canister but it rushed to slid its body around her legs to keep her still.
Nath looked around quickly for the blaster that was just a few inches away from her. She felt the slippery body squeezing her slowly. The snake kept pushing its fangs trying to set free, shaking its head furiously to remove the silver object. The redhead stretched her arm much as she could.
The large reptile shook many times, sending the canister away. It kept a sinister smile and kept his mouth wide to eat the redhead but, a roar was heard. The snake had a smoky hole right into its head.
The long shape loses the grip from her legs and, she quickly backed off from it and kept the blaster up.
The snake moved a little and, she fired several times until there was nothing left of its head. The kid just covered her ears when she heard the blasters and then opened her eyes, looking down at the redhead.
Nath took a deep breath and rushed to get the little girl.
A peculiar sound approached them in the dark.
A man and woman jumped off the speeder and rushed towards them. The little girl smiled and ran towards her mom. The woman picked her up and hugged her tightly, but her husband walked menacingly towards the young redhead.
"What do you think you are doing? First, you bring strangers, now you put my daughter in danger..." He reached her out from the shirt's hem and the redhead quickly backed off.
"Hey, sir, it's not..."
"You..." he frowned ready to raise his hand.
"Triggar!" Another male yelled at him and hopped off the speeder. He kept the helmet under his arm. "Let her go."
"But Marshal, she..." he muttered gibberish and gave him a helpless look. "my daughter."
"Your daughter is safe because of her." The Marshal got between them, keeping Triggar away from the redhead. "Also, she is my guest. I didn't take you as a fella that would hurt a dame."
"No, sir, of course not." Triggar looked down and back off.
Nath folded her arms and looked away, keeping a frown across her face.
The lone dunes were darker than before, which made it difficult for anyone to see someone's actions. She saw the moving shadows that lighted up with the speeders, all of them drove back to town, except for him. She knew that shape.
There was silence. Darkness or not, she could feel the hazel ones scrutinizing, judging her. She built up the courage to speak.
"I'm leaving now." She started to walk but his hand reached her arm to stop her. She frowned at him.
"What happened?" He spoke softly.
"I... just did something stupid even if you asked me not to." She paused and finally looked up at him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone or get in trouble."
"Nath..." he spoke.
"I put that girl in danger..." she said.
"Listen, the way I look at it, you did nothing wrong. I mean, it was pretty stupid to leave town by yourself, knowing the suns set down around this time. Second, you barely know the area so, you are lucky that something bigger didn't crawl from the nest. What matters right now is that both of you are safe." He paused. "You protected her."
The Marshall placed his hand over her shoulder. She was so ashamed and didn't say more. She wanted to say everything but that would mean put him and the rest at risk.
Her eyes try to read his expression in the darkness. She wasn't sure, it looked like he had a few bruises on his face.
"Time to go, little lady."
She followed him to the speeder and climbed right behind him. Cobb felt the pressure around his belly and took off. Her slender arms squeezed him tighter as he drove away. He grunted a little, still in pain from the battle.
"Sorry." She muttered.
"It's ok. Hold on." He speeded up and, Nath squeezed him more. That moment all she wanted was to scream. She had no idea where the canister fell, she didn't want him to know about it also, she wanted so bad to stop feeling like this; afraid and guilty.
The rock and sand desert were darker than the sky. None of them even noticed the second trawler spying on them. He only picked a heat signal with his binoculars. That man was not Mandalorian at all and, that woman, he couldn't tell yet but, it was probably their target. He needed to rush back and meet with Plog.
A new deal tailored in the hunter's mind. Deliver the girl, kill the man, and take the rusted beskar for himself. He was glad that his partner was cold now, he didn't like the first idea of sharing the beskar with him. Now, it was all his.
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missperfectlyfine13 · 5 years ago
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Jesse's Girl
This is my first time writing bechloe fanfic, I’ve written for other fandoms before though. I thought that these weekly prompts might be a good way to get my feet wet and see how it goes. This is my take on the enemies prompt. This is a really loose re-write on the hood night party from PP2. Dont be mislead by the title, its definitely bechloe 😉. Let me know what you think 😊
You can read it below or on AO3 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23571397 
                                                   Jesse’s Girl
It’s no secret to any of the Bellas or Treble Makers that Chloe and Jesse aren’t the closest. Their interactions – which are few and far in between – are usually coated in a thin layer of ice. Everyone knows the true reason for the bitterness between the two has nothing to do with who either of them are but it has more to do about a certain person – one short, brunette alt girl…who seems completely oblivious to why her two favorite people can’t seem to get along. Beca is Jesse’s girlfriend and Chloe is her best friend, at least that’s what Beca and Chloe like to think. Of course, the two girls are painfully oblivious to the fact that they are in love with each other; but Jesse is no idiot. He can see it, but who is he to break it off with the girl he loves. As long as Beca will have him, he’s not going to end it. Which is how he’s ended up in the current situation. 
“Jesse, where is Beca? I thought she was going to be with you tonight?” Jesse can see the flames of something close to anger or maybe annoyance flick behind the red head’s eyes as she stares him down.
“I thought she was with you?” Jesse counters lamely. He knows where Beca is. And honestly, he’s surprised Beca didn’t tell her other half about the internship. 
“I thought she was with you?” Chloe looks more confused, the tone of annoyance seemingly gone. He feels bad about lying to Chloe, maybe. But he’s not going to be the one to tell Chloe if it’s clear Beca has been avoiding doing so. 
“Well I hope she shows up soon, wherever she is,” Chloe takes a sip from her prized yellow cup. “She can’t miss her last hood night.” 
Chloe and the rest of the Bellas walk past him and make their way into the sea of acapella party goers. Jesse shakes his head; as much as he’d like to see the girls’ relationship implode on itself, he knows Beca needs to tell Chloe what’s going on. 
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“Ya know, you and Jesse should really draw up a custody schedule for Shaw Shank,” Fat Amy quips before walking away towards Barden’s latest security recruit, Bumper. 
“What are you talking about, Amy?” Chloe was still a little bothered by her conversation with Jesse and wasn’t in the mood for Fat Amy’s smart remarks. 
It was no use asking though since Amy was already blazing a trail towards her not-so-secret boyfriend. Chloe needed to do something to get into the party mood. She wasn’t going to let Jesse or Beca ruin the mood for her probably last hood night – especially since her last year in acapella is basically destroyed thanks to their little mishap at the Kennedy Center. She can’t help being a little hurt at the fact that Beca is MIA and didn’t bother telling her or Jesse. Beca has been so distant and almost secretive about her life lately. She and Beca had always told each other everything. What happened to that? Whatever is going on, shouldn’t she know she can tell her anything? 
“Come on, captain, let’s get this party going!” Stacie comes into Chloe’s line of sight holding two solo cups of whatever alcoholic poison was whipped up for tonight’s festivities.  
Stacie thrusts one of the cups into Choe’s hand, ignoring the fact that she’s already holding a drink that she poured herself back at the Bella’s. Chloe looks suspiciously at the contents before tipping it back. There’s the slight hint of pineapple? Maybe cherry? God, who knows? But it burns all the way down her throat. A few of these and she’ll soon be forgetting and enjoying herself in no time. 
“Yeah, let’s do this, Stace!” Chloe empties the contents of the cup and links her arm with Stacie. The two dance their way into the crowd of people, eager to start their night of partying. 
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Jesse is sitting at the bar, nursing his drink and thinking about when Beca is going to get here. He wants to see how her first day went. He wants to tell her about the new Treble recruits. He just wants to see his girlfriend. As if she somehow read his thoughts, he feels a weight on the back of his chair and turns just in time to catch Beca’s lips with his. It’s a quick kiss and Beca is flinging herself into the chair next to him before he knows it. 
“Chloe asked where you were. Why didn’t you tell her?” he surprises himself with the first words that fly out of his mouth. He watches her as she looks off into the distance and her eyes bug for a second. He can tell it bothers her – she’s nervous. 
“Oh she’s…she’s just like locked into the world’s right now….and I’m looking for the right time…” she gestures off in the distance. “I’ll tell her.” Jesse doesn’t believe her, not for a second. He doesn’t know why she’s so hesitant to tell her but he selfishly doesn’t want to push her. Why would he lobby for the woman that’s in love with his girlfriend?
“Okay, so how was your first day?” he asks hopefully. 
“Oh, it was eye opening that’s for sure,” the smile that lights up her face tells him all he needs to know. 
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Chloe’s on her third drink of the night and can feel it. The music courses through her as she laughs and dances with the other Bellas. She’s wishing she hadn’t worn what she did anymore. Maybe she should have opted for the skimpy tank top she was debating over because she’s so warm. She feels Flo move in behind her and the two girls playfully bump and grind to the Britney Spears song blaring through the Treble’s outdoor sound system. In her tipsy, almost drunken haze, Chloe almost misses the short brunette she’s been looking for all night. She spins just in time to see her pecking Jesse on the lips and sitting down next to him at the bar. A strange feeling washes through her at the sight. She shakes it off and starts walking towards the pair, intent on talking to her best friend. She catches Beca’s eye and she flashes her a brilliant smile. It makes Chloe’s heart soar and she walks a little quicker over to her. 
“Beca!” Chloe wraps her arms around her from behind. “Where were you?” 
“I had to stay late at the station tonight,” Beca replies, almost too quickly. 
“You never have to work at the radio station on Friday.” Chloe pouts, hugging Beca just a little bit tighter. Beca visibly tenses at Chloe’s words and she looks to Jesse, her eyes bugging out. 
 “Drew was sick. I couldn’t leave the freshmen in charge.” She shrugs as best as she can with Chloe hanging off of her. 
“Okay well let’s parrrtaayyy!” Chloe whips around and grabs Beca’s arm, pulling her off the stool. Beca can’t do anything but smile as the bubbly and clearly drunk redhead pulls her towards the other bellas. 
“Have fun Beca!” Jesse calls over to the duo. 
“Come dance, nerd!” Beca smirks back. 
“No thanks, have fun with your girls,” He replies, shaking his head. He turns back around and takes a big swig of his drink. 
No problem. You sit there and let me dance with my best friend, Chloe thinks proudly, dragging Beca through the crowd. Chloe squeals as “Titanium” starts playing. Beca and Chloe both smile wildly as they start dancing with each other. This is their song and neither of them can miss the chance to dance to the song that brought them together. Chloe grips Beca by her shoulders and her heart melts a little when she sees how Beca is looking back at her. They both know what the other is thinking before they both start belting out the chorus as it starts, jumping around, lost in their own world. When the song ends Beca looks at Chloe, out of breath, her eyes sparkling. Chloe fights the urge in her gut to just lean forward and kiss the brunette. Her head swirls at the rogue thought, although it’s not completely out of the ordinary for Chloe lately. She’s been having some feelings towards her best friend. Well, she’s known they were there since she busted into her shower her freshman year. They’ve just grown by a few sizes in the last year. But she’s with Jesse and Chloe can’t.  The thought leaves a sour feeling now in the pit of her stomach. Chloe takes a steadying breath and pulls Beca into a tight hug, before letting go and starting to dance to the next song that comes on. 
*********************************************************************
Jesse watches sourly from the spot he hasn’t moved from since Beca arrived at the party. His drink is still over half full but doesn’t feel the need to add alcohol to his already piss poor mood. He wasn’t the happiest all day and then watching Beca and Chloe dance just now made it entirely worse. Yeah, he could have gone and danced with her like she wanted, but he just feels so  awkward hanging around the two. There’s just something there between the two he can’t seem to match – no matter how hard he tries. He knows that Chloe loves Beca, anyone within a 5-mile radius can see that. But does Beca reciprocate those feelings? Does Beca love her back? God, he hopes not. Ge’s pretty sure that Beca loves him. But he might be delusional at this point. Sometimes he wonders if he should just end it now and save himself the trouble. He sighs and turns to look back out at the sea of people, just in time to catch Chloe pulling Beca into a bone crushing hug. Beca squeezes her back just as tight, a broad smile on her face. Jesse tips the contents of his cup into his mouth and hops off his stool, walking over to the two girls.
**************************************************************************
Beca pulls herself out of Chloe’s embrace, a warm fuzzy feeling seeps from the top of her head down to her toes. It’s usually how she feels whenever Chloe hugs her, a hug from Chloe is sunshine, happiness and warmth. 
“Beca!” She hears Jesse call, walking towards the crowd. 
“You decided to come get in on this action?” Beca spins towards her boyfriend, shimmying around dorkily. 
Chloe giggles at her, busting a move of her own. Jesse doesn’t answer, but Beca grabs his hand anyways and pulls him into her orbit. The three all start dancing; Jesse keeps close to Beca. She turns her back to him to face Chloe and she can feel his hands grasp on to her hips. A small gasp of surprise leaves the brunette, but she smiles and goes with the flow, leaning back into him. The pair playfully grind for a little while, letting the beats of the music flow through them, dictating their movements. Beca looks to Chloe and sees that her eyes are seemingly focused on the two of them. She’s looking dead into Jesse’s eyes. Beca quirks her eyebrow and turns her head to look at her boyfriend. He has definitely locked eyes with the redhead across from them. The stare between the two seems to be laced with some sort of non-verbal communication. The uncomfortable tension between the two hangs in the air around them. Chloe breaks the stare and turns to walk further into the crowd – away from the two. Beca is confused to say the least at this point. She vaguely registers that she’s stopped dancing and so has Jesse behind her. 
��Dude what just happened there?” She spins around and looks him in the eye. 
“I don’t know.” Jesse shrugs. 
“Bullshit.” Beca spits back as best she can over the music, “What happened between you two? Did you say something to her?” Beca asks. She had been looking at Chloe the whole time and never saw her say anything to him. 
“No, I didn’t say anything. Why are you so angry?” Jesse says loudly and firmly back. 
“Because I could fucking feel something in the air. There were daggers happening. Chloe doesn’t walk away angry like that very often,” Beca flails her arms around expressively. 
“So she’s pissed off? What does that have to do with us?” Jesse rolls his eyes. Beca is blown back by his retort. Where is her boyfriend and who is this jackass? 
“I’m done here, dude. I don’t know what you did but I’m going to find Chloe,” Beca spins around and heads through the crowd in search of Chloe. 
She hears Jesse calling her, but she doesn’t particularly care at the moment. She doesn’t know what Jesse said to her or what he did, but he made Chloe upset – that much she can tell. She has no clue why two of her favorite people just can’t seem to make peace. She doubts it’s any kind of Treble vs. Bella thing. That pretty much died away at the end of her freshman year, after Aubrey handed her the reigns. So who knows? But she just wishes that they could at least pretend for her. She spots Chloe sitting down on a lawn chair at the edge of the yard, looking wistfully off in the distance. She doesn’t look angry, but she doesn’t look like her normal, happy, bubbly self either. Beca walks over and plops down in the grass in front of her.
 “Hey Chlo.” She says, trying to keep her voice cheerful. 
“Becs,” Chloe acknowledges her but doesn’t look directly at her. She’s playing with her hands. Beca knows that’s something she only does when she’s angry or nervous. 
“What happened back there?” Beca doesn’t want to prod, but she wants to know what’s going on. 
“Nothing. It’s fine.” Chloe looks down at her, biting her lower lip. 
“I know it’s not nothing,” Beca says back calmly. Usually it’s Chloe breaking down all of Beca’s walls. This is  a weird shift – to be on the other side of it. Beca hears a very telling sigh from the girl above her, one that usually means she’s going to be brutally honest, 
“Why are you with him?”  Chloe asks bluntly. The question floors Beca and suddenly the tables are turned again. Chloe’s coming in with her sledgehammer. She rolls it around in her head before she can properly say anything
“What?” Beca finally asks. 
“Why are you with him?” She says,  clear as day back to Beca, blue eyes swimming with more emotion that she’s seen in a while. Beca is truly at a loss for words. She doesn’t really know where this is coming from
“I don’t know, Chlo.I like him? He’s good to me? It’s easy, it feels natural. Why wouldn’t I want to be with him? You seem like you have a reason for me - so what is it Chlo?” Now Beca is the one fidgeting angrily, pulling at the loose stitches on the edge of the black jeans she’s wearing. 
“What if there’s something better?” Chloe doesn’t miss a beat. “You “like” him. Sounds boring. Where’s the passion Beca? Where’s the heat? Does he turn your world off its axis? Does he make you feel like you can’t breathe right when you’re around him?” 
“I don’t know?” Beca stands up angrily in front of the other girl. “Yes? Ugh. Sure. Why does it matter? You should be happy for me. You’re my best friend? What is your problem with Jesse!?” 
“He’s not me!” Chloe shoots to her feet. Her cheeks are as red as her hair, her hands flying as she gestures. “God, you’re so blind sometimes!” The ground feels like it drops out from underneath Beca. She takes a deep steadying breath. Did Chloe really say what Beca thinks she did? 
************************************************************************
Chloe sucks in air like her lungs were completely emptied. Her head spins. Did she really just say that? Did she really just say everything she did? She definitely did not see this playing out how it did. Beca is looking at her like a baby doe that ran out in front of a semi. Any slight movement and she’ll be running. Chloe runs a hand through her hair nervously.
“Beca…I” she feels tears threatening to spill over. “I don’t know why I did that…I” But before she can say more Beca cuts in.
“How do you feel about me Chloe? I’m pretty sure I get the picture here, but I need you to say it. Just say it Chlo.”  Beca says sternly. Here’s her chance.  She basically just said it, but here it is out in the open again. Here is take two. Chloe swallows back nerves.
“I like you Beca. No scratch that, I love you Beca.” Chloe says, her heart pounding in her chest. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears and the world feels like it’s shaking as Beca asks her next question.
“How long?” 
“Well, I knew I liked you when I busted into your shower three years ago…” Chloe can’t help the smirk that forms on her face and to her pleasant surprise is also on Beca’s face. “I knew I loved you around the time of the ICCAs your freshman year.” Instead of stopping there, Chloe forges forward. This is her shot and she’s not going to waste it. “I was going to tell you after we won. Then you went and kissed Jesse. I knew I should have said something sooner, but I didn’t. It’s been so hard to keep it in, keep it bottled up. It’s been hard to see you everyday with him. And then tonight when you were dancing with him, he was looking at me like he knew. Like he was marking his territory by dancing with you like that in front of me. I just couldn’t take it. Then when you came to talk to me, something just snapped. But I’m not sorry for taking my shot. I know it’s not fair to you, but I just…” Chloe can’t help the tears that are running down her face now. Beca just looks at her bewildered. 
“Chloe I had no idea. Okay, maybe I had a little bit of an idea, but I just assumed it was you. You’re a flirt. you don’t have personal space. I just assumed…” She shakes her head. “I need time to think. I’m sorry I’m not impulsive like that. I need some space. I need some time.” 
“Beca…” She doesn’t even know what else to say. Chloe feels as though her heart was ripped out of her chest if it wasn’t already. She’s not sure what Beca is feeling and she’s not going to know for a while
She shakes her head and sits back down in the grass, staring aimlessly across the party scene in front of them. Chloe walks away back towards the Bella’s house, her tears blinding her vision. She barely makes it to her room before a choked sob escapes her. She flings herself down onto her bed and lets herself cry. 
******************************************************************************
It’s been a few days since hood night and Beca just doesn’t seem right. Jesse looks over at her sitting on his bed. They’re having their normal Tuesday movie night and Beca had begrudgingly said yes. She’s even less involved in this than normal.Her jaw is tight and she’s barely touched the giant bowl of popcorn between the two of them. She’s not even trying to pretend she’s watching the movie. He’s tried asking her what happened on Friday, but she won’t say anything. 
“Are you seriously not going to tell me what happened?” Jesse pauses the movie and asks. 
“I said there’s nothing to talk about.” She shakes her head. 
“That’s absolute bullshit. Both you and I know that.” He touches her hand and she flinches away from him. “You are never this upset about just nothing.” 
“I’ve just had a lot to think about.” He can see her face twitch, the façade she put on cracking slightly.
“Uh huh, sure.” He looks back at the paused movie screen deciding his next words. “It has something to do with Chloe, right?” Beca doesn’t say anything but her face twitches again just slightly, in a way that Jesse knows he’s hit the nail on the head. 
“What happened when you went to go find her?” Jesse slams the laptop shut and shoves it to the end of the bed, scooting closer to her. Beca shakes her head, an exasperated smile on her face.
“I can’t…” she looks back over at him, her eyes are full of unshed tears. 
“Just tell me.” he pleads, grabbing her hand again; this time she doesn’t squirm away from him. She sighs deeply and wipes the few rogue tears away from under her eyes, 
“She…umm,” she’s toying with the ring on her finger nervously. “She told me that she loves me.” Jesse’s stomach falls to his feet, that’s what he was afraid she was going to say. Now it’s his turn for his jaw to tighten.
“Do you love her back?” He asks her carefully, unsure if he wants to know the answer. 
“I don’t know…maybe.” Now the tears are flowing freely down Beca’s face in a rare moment of raw emotion not normally seen from her. He’s not sure why his next words leave him, but he’s known for a while, it isn’t him anymore.
 “You want to know what I think…” he chuckles lamely.  “I think you do.” 
“What!?” Beca’s reaction is quick and visceral, she gapes at him. 
“I think you love her too. It’s okay if you do.” Now Jesse can feel the unshed tears in his own eyes. “I see the way you look at her. I see how she makes you feel. I’ve never made you feel the way she does.” 
She’s stunned into silence for a few moments and he can see the wheels turning in her head. She turns quickly to pull him into her arms. Jesse hugs her back willingly. She kisses him hard and he can tell – this is the last time this is going to happen. 
“I love Chloe.” she whispers into his shoulder after she pulls away from the kiss. 
“I know,” Jesse says definitively, “it’s okay.”
“Can we still be friends?” Beca pulls out of his arms and wipes the last of the tears from her face. 
“Eventually, but I need time to heal first.” Jesse sighs. He wants Beca to be happy, but he can’t rush into a friendship right away. 
“I…I get that,” Beca stutters. She stands up from the bed and grabs her messenger bag from the floor
“I’m gonna?” she motions to the door. 
“Go get her.” Jesse shakes his head. He watches her leave and shut the door. He knew it would happen eventually; he just didn’t think so soon. He always kind of knew that Chloe was going to win.  
*************************************************************************
Chloe hasn’t left her bed all day, except to go to the bathroom. She didn’t even bother emailing her professors that she wasn’t going to be in class. Chloe was broken. Beca hasn’t spoken to her since it happened. And she knows it’s going to take her some time to talk to her for a while. Chloe needs time too. She needs time to pick up the pieces and glue them back together. It isn’t easy to be rejected, especially when you feel as deeply as Chloe does. She doesn’t love with half her heart. She loves deeply, wholly in a way that always seems to get her in trouble. She rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling, wondering what would have been different if she had told her sooner. She knows she needs to stop. What’s done is done. There’s no use replaying it. She almost doesn’t hear the knock at her door. She would think she’s hearing things if it wasn’t for a certain someone calling her name from the other side.
“Chloe?” There is another tentative knock and shy voice at the door. Chloe scrambles up from bed and runs to open the door. A scared looking Beca with red eyes and wild hair stands on the other side. She’s definitely been crying. 
“Can I come in?” She asks quietly. Chloe just nods, not able to form words currently. Beca paces around her room for a little bit until she comes to stand in front of her. 
“I suck at words.” She smiles shyly. “I was just with Jesse and he said some stuff that really made me realize how I feel.”
“What, Becs?” Chloe nods, afraid to hear what she’s going to say next. 
“He said that he thinks I love you too.” Beca takes a deep breath. 
“Beca, I can’t take much more of this…I need to try and-” Beca cuts her off before she can say anything else. 
“And I agree with him. I do.” She looks so scared, but not in a bad way. “Love you, that is.”
The words hit Chloe hard and fast. She lunges towards Beca and pulls her in, touching her lips to the other girls for the first time. At first Beca is tentative, her lips unmoving against Chloe’s. Chloe pulls away to check Beca’s reaction, but before she can Beca lunges back at her, this time kissing her back. It surprises Chloe but she is quick to reciprocate. They don’t pull away until the air between them is completely gone. Chloe rests her head against the brunette’s, breathing hard. 
“I didn’t think that was ever going to happen.” Chloe chuckles. 
“Say it again.” Beca says, her voice thick with emotion. Chloe looks at her confused. 
“Tell me you love me. I want a do-over.” she says quietly, barely above a whisper. 
“I love you so much Beca Mitchell.” Chloe’s heart swells at her words. The smile that forms on Beca’s face lights up Chloe’s whole world
 “I love you Chloe Beale.”
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feralrosie · 5 years ago
Text
Lullabies at Night
Fandom: Dragon Age Relationships: M!Lavellan/Dorian Pavus Rating: General Audiences Tags: Hurt/Comfort
Read on AO3
Skyhold was hardly ever quiet, even during the coldest hours of the night and, Maker, it was cold. Dorian woke up with the sound of wind escaping through the door and a chilly shiver running down on his spine. He looked for the blankets, patting the bed around him, but suddenly realized there was more missing. Sitting on the bed in a startle, he found himself alone in the Inquisitor's bed. Took a few seconds of drunken thought, but he quickly stepped out of the bed to change into proper clothing and leave the room, avoiding the looks of occasional guardsmen who were chatting in low voices. There were few torches lit at that time, so Dorian could easily sneak past them while looking around the castle—not that he needed to, but wished to avoid gossips later. Anything related to his relationship with the Inquisitor seemed to be specially tasteful for the tongues of nobles in Skyhold.
He searched everywhere and begun to really worry for his lover. Would he leave the castle all by himself? Or was he back to his bedroom? Where else could he be hiding? The mage looked around once more, standing in the middle of the central courtyard. His gaze fell on the main gate, which led to the longest bridge he'd ever seen in any old castles, and noticed that one of the escape doors was slightly open. Lifting one eyebrow, he followed that lead, taking the road on the bridge to reach the lonely tower that watched over for the rest of the castle, despite not being used by the Inquisition's forces at the moment. As he approached, he thought he heard a soft lullaby playing in distance and every new step confirmed there was indeed music playing on top of the tower. The door was open and the stone staircase was large enough for it not to be claustrophobic, so Dorian got up the tower fast and in silence. On the last level, where the stairs met the battlement's floor, he peaked through, wishing to have a look on what was happening.
His Elven lover was sitting on one of the large crenels between the even larger merlons, hugging his knees with his arms while his hands held an ocarina. He was playing the most lonely lullaby, soft and slow, echoing into the night. His golden curls were loose and seemed like dancing with the cold breeze, following the movements of the green cloak he had wrapped around his shoulders. Dorian had never noticed that cloak, but it looked old and overused, showing up a few tears here and there, but nothing that could not be fixed by skilled hands. The full moon was shining over his pale skin and hair, like his whole body was made of polished marble. It was a delightful sight.
The inquisitor did not seem to notice as the man stood a few centimeters behind him, enjoying the music. Dorian thought it felt like a song a mother would sing to her children after telling them that their father could not come back home and was watching them from the stars. His heart skipped a beat and he let the thought perish.
"I did not know you could play" he said finally in a tender voice. Elrian jumped harshly on a startle, almost letting his ocarina fall off the battlement, but the mage behind him was quick to hold it in the air, chuckling softly. "I am sorry, Amatus. I did not mean to scare you"
"Dorian!" he cried in some sort of relief "Don't creep behind me like this, I could have fallen down"
"A risk that could easily be avoided if you have stayed in bed with me" Dorian approached, leaning down to rest the weight of his body on his arms against the parapet where his lover was seated "What troubles you?" his voice was soft but still packed with concern.
The inquisitor bit his lip, looking away, "I just couldn't sleep. Had a dream and woke up"
"A nightmare? Do you wish to talk about it?"
"Not a nightmare. It was a good dream." he sighed, then continued in a low voice, trying to not sound too sad "I was back at my clan. It was summer and we were celebrating someone's birthday, dancing and feasting. My father was showing tricks to the little children, they loved his magic. And my mother was calling me and trying to put flowers on my hair." he smiled and his eyes glittered as tears came to life.
"I am sorry, Amatus" Dorian reached for the other's hand, but Elrian was quick to turn his palm up to show the glowing anchor underneath his skin.
"I hate this thing." he confessed, "And yet I'm grateful I can do some good to the world because of it. I just wish I could do more." he closed his hand on a tight fist "I wish I could have saved them"
Dorian slid his hand over the elf's wrist and made his way to hold his hand, opening his fist softly to tangle their fingers together, "Your family would be very proud of you, Elrian. Do not think otherwise. Their love did not fade away"
"I… know" he wrapped the cloak more around his body, as if trying to shrink his own size "I just miss them so much"
The Tevinter said nothing, for there was nothing else to be said. He passed his right arm around Elrian's body and held his left hand with his own, spooning him and resting his head on his lover's shoulder, kissing it softly. They stood there for a couple minutes before Dorian begun to shake a bit, still not used to the Ferelden cold.
"Shit, I'm sorry, Vhenan. Get in here" Elrian chuckled, opening the cloak and putting over Dorian's shoulders as well.
"Thank you for acknowledging my presence here" he provoked, joking, and hug the elf underneath their improvised blanket, still standing up on the battlement behind. "I've never seen you wear this one. Where did you get it?"
Elrian smiled, caressing the green fabric along the lines of golden embroidery that formed the pattern of vines. "I was wearing it at the Conclave. My mother gave it to me when I got my vallaslin and it was my only fancy piece back home. It survived that night's events pretty well, I think"  
"It is beautiful." Dorian was also appreciating the details "I take the ocarina was also with you that day?"
"It was. It was my father's. Have I ever told you about them?"
"I don't think so." he tightened the embrace "but I would love to hear"
Elrian smiled tenderly. "My mother was a hunter. She taught me how to fight and survive in the woods if I ever needed to. And my father was the Halla Keeper, First to our clan. I was the Second and therefore had to learn both from him and from our Keeper. He told me how to take care of the Hallas and how they seemed to enjoy the sound of the ocarina, so if one of them got lost I could play and let it come back on its own. I enjoyed it just as much. Once all my friends made fun of me because I spent a whole afternoon playing and by night there were dozens of Hallas around me, sleeping" he laughed to himself "They told me I was so boring that not even the animals could stay awake"
"Oh, how dare them?" Dorian laughed.
"When I turned 16, I was convinced my vallaslin would be Ghilan'nain's, the mother of Hallas" he continued "But it was Mythal's, the great protector. At the time I was reluctant and not sure if I was worth it. From that day on, my free time was consumed by extensive lectures from both my father and the Keeper, since I was bound to assume the clan's guidance someday. I think I was failing, to be honest"
"Why do you think that?"
"I was too soft and insecure. Still am, I guess. My father sent me to the Conclave so I could put all my training to test and deal with it all by myself. And when I was made Inquisitor, he sent me a letter saying he always knew I had the soul of a Keeper and was sure I could assume the responsibility. My mother also wrote this letter and said they were very proud. She also told me to be respectful but not bow my head"
"Excellent advise. In my opinion, you are following it just right." Dorian placed a few more kisses on the Inquisitor's shoulder "Sounds like they were great people, I'd loved to have met them"
"My mother would have loved you. She loved all my friends and boyfriends, as long as they took good care of me"
"And do I?" he mumbled, caressing Elrian with his lips.
"More than you can imagine" the answer came in a low and loving voice, the type that usually accompanied blushing. Dorian didn't need to look at his face to know he had colour on his cheeks.
"What about your father? Would he also have approved us?"
"You're from Tevinter, Vhenan" he chuckled as it was an obvious counterpoint.
"Oh, right" he laughed.
"But eventually he would, yes" Elrian leaned down to steal a kiss from his lover's lips "You'd always be welcome"
"That's good to know, Amatus. I mean it" he whispered against his lips "Not only were you destined to make yourself great, but you were also raised as such" he moved away so their eyes could meet "Do not doubt yourself. Your roots are stronger than you think and I trust my life to your leadership and reason. You may think you're too soft, but a passionate heart is greater than the strongest army"
"Thank you, Vhenan" the elven mage whispered back, smiling, but letting a rogue tear run down his cheek.
"Now, now, don't do that. You know I'm awful with feelings" he wiped the tear out, taking the chance to also caress Elrian's face and hair "Say, why don't we go back to your room and you play to me that boring song that makes cattle sleep? We can put it to test"
Laughing, Elrian got down of the crenel "You're a jerk"
"So I'm told. Also spectacularly handsome"  
Both of the men walked side by side, holding hands in the most soft manner, whispering jokes for one another. Elrian also took his cloak off to cover his lover's shoulders and shield him from the cold, which was accepted without ceremony. Back at the Inquisitor's room, Elrian discovered that stroking Dorian's hair was just as effective to put the man to sleep as that lullaby was for the Hallas.
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dearcat1 · 5 years ago
Text
The thrill
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Relationships: Sawada Tsunayoshi/Xanxus
I feel like it’s incomplete but eh... let's leave it like this for now.
.
Xanxus thinks that, in the beginning, the real reason Reborn wasn’t thrilled about their relationship was that it messed up with his plans. It was never going to happen though, the hitman must have known that. Tsuna has every reason to be indifferent to the Vongola at best.
All he is ever going to see the Vongola as is a source of power to protect his friends and family with. Other than that, the Vongola Decimo doesn’t particularly care. It’s hard to, when all Vongola was to Tsuna at first was a concept and then this supposed family that abandoned him first and then came crashing down on him with demands after.
Reborn’s answer to that had been sweet, loving Kyoko. The childhood crush. Kyoko who had been kept safe for so long that she didn’t really know the darkness of the world and thought, because of it, to be kind to everybody an easy thing to do.
Sawada is weak to those he cares about, he’ll do what it takes to make them happy. Reborn had been counting on it, he had been counting in making Kyoko the wife and then ensuring her love for the famiglia itself. Tsunayoshi then would have cared by extension.
And the girl is cunning, Xanxus will give her that. There is a reason why she was firmly at the top of the food chain in Namimori High and it had nothing to do with her brother’s fists. She had taken one look around and noticed that the top of the food chain as a female in the mafia was Vongola Decimo’s wife.
Many had noticed, of course. Just as many paraded in front of the young man, trying to get his attention. After all, it’s no secret how protective he is, how far Tsunayoshi will go for those he cares about. Xanxus could see what they were thinking: get the Vongola Don and Vongola’s might with it. 
Tsunayoshi, though, had been jaded long before Reborn made his appearance. Sealed sky as he had been, Sawada had known the cruelty of human nature for most of his life at that point. He had known the price of kindness because of it.
It had been probably why he had had that dumb little crush on Kyoko to begin with. 
But after Reborn was done with him, after Tsunayoshi Sawada stopped being a jaded child scared of his own shadow and began being Vongola Decimo, jaded heir to the Vongola throne, comfortable on his own skin and understanding his own power... 
Well... That silly crush would have gone nowhere then. Reborn helping the girl made no difference. Sawada might be Tsunayoshi’s last name but the young man is no Iemitsu. He has no need for a sweet civilian wife. Tsunayoshi Sawada, after Reborn, looks at Kyoko Sasagawa and thinks liability. 
Reborn instilled the need of the thrill a little too well in his students. Sawada would not look twice at another person who could not make his blood pump faster with adrenaline. That cut down the pool of candidates quite drastically.
There’s no way he’ll make the girl his wife. For a political purpose perhaps but he loves his sun guardian far too dearly to do such a thing. And so Kyoko is tolerated, an amusing addition and sometimes a welcome respite from the darkness of the mafia but nothing more.
When Xanxus noticed all these things, back then, he couldn’t care less. He might have felt a little schadenfreude while looking at Reborn trying and failing at playing match-maker. But it hadn’t been his problem, at the beginning. Xanxus had been interested, yes, but more in a “this guy might give me a good fight” sort of way.
To be fair, as the Varia Commander, Xanxus would have been more worried had he actually been aware of the amount of power that being the other half of Tsunayoshi’s equation gives someone but he hadn’t known and nothing came out of it so there’s that. 
And then they’d had that spar and Tsunayoshi had beaten him down. Oh, Xanxus had painted the other man black and blue but even he had known where the fight had been going and it hadn’t been in his favour. Having his own weapon aimed at his head had stung.
“You look pretty on your knees,” Tsunayoshi had said. The fury that had invoked had been expected, the shiver of pleasure down Xanxus’ spine hadn’t. Not that it had ended leading to anything. Xanxus had woken up on the infirmary, concussed and with his guns on the side table.
It took him about a week of sulking and destruction back at Varia HQ to come to terms with what that shiver meant. Xanxus admitted to himself, begrudgingly and almost pained, that he wanted Tsunayoshi Sawada then. And Xanxus is not one for denying himself. He takes what he wants.
Admittedly, Xanxus had just wanted a quick fuck. Something bloody and violent to get the damn distraction out of his system and move on. Sawada hadn’t cooperated. Spar after spar, Sawada would earn his win, put Xanxus down hard and then drag his sorry ass to the closest medical attention available. 
Kyoko Sasagawa had noticed it then. She had realized that the edge of frustration during those spars had changed flavours. It was sexually charged by then. So she had answered in kind. She’ll show up to pick Tsunayoshi up after the man had left Xanxus with the medics.
Presumingly, worried about the man’s on injuries and all too willing to play nurse-maid. 
That’s when Xanxus’ competitive bone had been tickled. He didn’t particularly appreciate the competition, if any of them was to have Sawada, it would be him first. She could have him later, once Xanxus was done with him.
Not that Xanxus will ever be done with him but that’s what he had thought back then. 
The continuous presence of the girl had been frustrating to both Sawada and himself, Xanxus could tell easily enough. Reborn could too, by the troubled looks he kept sending the two of them. But it had been thrilling in a way, watching how reluctant Tsunayoshi was to stop touching Xanxus’ skin once he had the Wrath down and submitting. 
Even frustrated as he was, Xanxus enjoyed the attention.
And when the girl still refused to back down, when she kept coming to every single one of their spars, Xanxus had decided he had enough. So he had stolen a kiss, entirely uncaring of her being right there. He had stolen a kiss that had stung his broken lip, it had tasted like blood and sent shivers down Xanxus’ spine.
Tsunayoshi had looked dazed after. Xanxus remembers the little gasp the younger man had let out, the way he had bent down to suck on Xanxus’ lip. When the medic had arrived to see to them, Sawada had kept trailing Xanxus lip with a finger.
None of them noticed when Kyoko left.
For weeks after, Xanxus had felt high on power. A different kind of power from the one he was used to, for sure, but power nonetheless. Tsunayoshi’s attention was on him every single time Xanxus entered a room. All it took was for Xanxus to lick his lip or maybe bite it a little and Tsunayoshi’s brain would short-circuit.
It was heady back then, it still is.
After that, it hadn’t taken long for Xanxus to realize that Sawada did not particularly give a fuck about Vongola itself. It had insensed Xanxus to no end, he could not understand it. For Xanxus, Vongola was sacred. So to have the Vongola Decimo so obviously uncaring of Vongola itself, Xanxus hadn’t been able to wrap his head around it.
Xanxus had fought so hard and for so long to be acknowledged by Vongola, had laid claimed to the Family like a dragon claimed its hoard. Tsunayoshi taking Vongola’s throne and having it mean nothing to the younger man... it had made Xanxus furious.
Perhaps luckily, it was around that time that Xanxus found out the amount of power that being Tsunayoshi’s partner gave him. Surprisingly enough, it had soothed Xanxus’ ruffled feathers. 
They had had a fight, a real one. Xanxus still incensed by Tsunayoshi’s apathy towards Vongola and Tsunayoshi frustrated by Xanxus’ inability to listen or understand any point of view but his own. The gardens had not survived, not much had.
By the end of it, Xanxus had found himself on his back, Tsunayoshi straddling his hips with one hand on Xanxus’ throat and the other on the ground for balance. 
“Why are you so angry?” Tsunayoshi had snapped but he hadn’t given Xanxus enough time to give any other reply but a snarl, “I’ll take good care of Vongola if it’ll make you happy!” He had peppered Xanxus with kisses then, soft and chaste and a little pleading, “would that make you happy?”
That’s when Xanxus had realized that Tsunayoshi is his in a way that Vongola will never be. His freely and completely, without Xanxus having to bend over backwards to prove himself worthy of it. Tsunayoshi would give Xanxus the world, he had realized. And Xanxus in return, would burn it down to the ground if it’ll keep Tsunayoshi safe.
It might have been Tsunayoshi taking Xanxus’ body that day, it might have been Xanxus moaning and groaning and panting in the younger sky’s arms but it hadn’t felt like surrender. It had felt like a victory.
He still loves Vongola but he’s content with Tsunayoshi not doing the same. Xanxus is greedy, after all. He’ll take all of that for himself.
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big-ass-magnet · 5 years ago
Text
Consider This ch 4/5
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Varric/Marian Hawke
Rating: T
Summary: As far as Varric is concerned, Cassandra’s been reading too many romance novels. There’s no way he could be in love with Hawke and not know it. That sort of thing doesn’t happen in real life. Besides, Hawke’s just his friend, right?
Right?
…Uh oh.
AO3 link | Commissions
@queenofbaws helpfully reminded me that this fic existed and that I should probably finish it womp womp. technically this is the last chapter! the next one is the epilogue wrap up!Thank you all for your patience.
Varric stared at the glowing green shimmer of the rift, straining to make sense of the swirling landscape behind it. He didn’t know how long he’d been waiting. How long it had been since he turned around to see if Hawke was okay, and felt that horrible, sickening jolt when she wasn’t behind him. 
How could he have left her there? How could he have left without making sure she was with him? How could he just run off like that? Had two years been long enough to make him forget the woman didn’t have a single ounce of self preservation or common sense? That it was his job to make sure she kept herself safe?
The world was broken-glass sharp, glinting at the edges, every sight and sensation amplified a thousandfold. The smell of ash and blood. The shift of his armor. The smooth, polished wood of Bianca’s stock. The sound of his own breathing, echoing in his ears. 
His eyes were fixed on the swirling, sickly-green light, mind utterly empty save for the silent, desperate prayer to the Maker, to Andraste, to the Stone, to the fucking Creators. Anyone who would listen. 
Please. Please, I’ll do anything. Anything, just bring her back. Please. 
Please. I need her. I love her. 
I’ll do anything. 
Please. 
Hawke burst out of the rift, tripped over her own feet, and tumbled down the small flight of stairs, hitting the ground hard.
The crushing grip around Varric’s chest disappeared so quickly his legs turned to water and he almost fell to his knees. Instead, he lurched forward, stumbling across the gap to drop to his knees beside her. He reached out, grabbing her shoulders, searching for any damage that hadn’t been there before. 
“Hawke? You alright?” 
The woman groaned and opened her eyes. They were very unfocused, and it took her a few blinks before she could look at him with both eyes at the same time. 
“Not one of my best entrances,” she admitted, rubbing her head and wincing. He chuckled, the sound made weak and watery with relief, and stood.  
“Not one of your worst, though,” Varric pointed out, reaching a hand to her. The words came out calm and casual, as if they were walking down the road in Kirkwall after a dust up with a street gang. It took so much effort to keep his stuttering heartbeat out of his voice, he almost couldn’t hear her response.  
“All the same, do me a favor,” she said, letting him help her to her feet, “when you put that in the book, make it more dramatic.” 
“The book?” 
“The one about all this.”
The Inquisitor emerged with significantly more dignity. She stepped out like a queen onto a balcony to address her subjects, head high, gaze steely. Silently, she raised a hand, her palm crackling green. Every demon still standing in Adamant shuddered and collapsed as one. Behind Adaar, the rift snapped shut. 
“Like that,” Hawke whispered. “Make me look like that.”  
A soldier hurried up to Adaar, but Hawke was already slipping away. Varric followed, eyes fixed on the hand she pressed against her side. She was limping, and Varric felt an unpleasant prickle of fear. Dying tragically after narrowly escaping the Fade sounded like the sort of thing that would happen to Hawke. 
 She found them a quiet corner out of sight and just close enough to hear if the fighting picked up again. A low bench was still intact; she sat on it with an exhausted sigh. Looking up at him, she smiled and patted the seat beside her. 
Instead, he reached out and touched his fingers to the back of the hand on her side. He could see the blood between her fingers. 
“Is it bad?” he asked softly. 
“Just a scratch.”
“Let me see.” 
“Worrywart,” she mocked, but let him lift her hand away. It was an ugly, jagged cut that had torn through her armor, but it was shallow, and had already stopped bleeding. All the same…
“You should take that to a healer.” 
“I was planning on letting it fester,” she said, sarcastically.  
He looked up into her eyes, and whatever she saw startled her into silence. 
“You had me worried there for a minute,” he said. He meant it to be a joke, but he meant it, and he knew she heard it. “Thought I was going to lose you.” 
The words danced on the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out. Maker, he wanted to say it. Should say it. He could have lost the chance forever, and now would be the time to say it. An expression flashed across Hawke’s face, so quick he couldn’t tell what it was. Anxiety, maybe? Guilt? 
He was still holding her hand; she shifted her grip and held on tightly. Her eyes searched his face for something.  
“Varric, I…” 
He waited, not daring to imagine what she might be about to say. Hawke struggled for a moment...and then gave him a weak smile. With one last squeeze, she dropped his hand. 
“I couldn’t leave my trusty dwarf behind,” she said. “Someone’s got to keep an eye on you.” 
He felt his lips quirk up into a smile. 
“Are you kidding? You’re the one who gets herself into trouble just by waking up in the morning.” 
“His voice like honeyed wine, golden whiskey, the sun after a storm. The weight on my shoulders lighter, lifting, laughing together like old times.”  
Hawke looked up, startled. Cole stood in the shadows, watching them both with those wide, pale eyes. Varric felt a bolt of fear. 
“What?” Hawke said, alarmed, at the same time Varric said “Cole, don’t--” 
“Hands touch when she takes the glass, ache in my chest until I can't breathe, wanting, wishing, writing a world where she wants back. You don’t have to be afraid.” 
Varric blinked. What had he been saying? The words had scattered like paper in the wind, and he couldn’t find all the pages. He looked at Hawke, who was wearing her own expression of mild bemusement, and felt a sudden surge of confidence. 
He should tell her. He would tell her. 
Part of him thought he should put it off, give himself time to plan what to say, to find all the right words and weave them together. Normally he didn’t have trouble improvising, but something this important needed to be done right. It needed a proper, well-thought out speech, a little funny and a lot charming, referencing old memories and new hopes, with perfectly crafted metaphors for all the things she made him feel. 
The other part knew that if he didn’t say it now, he’d lose his nerve. 
“I love you.” 
Varric blinked. 
How odd. 
He’d opened his mouth, and the words had been spoken, but it hadn’t sounded like his voice. It had been a very familiar voice, though. And Hawke’s expression was rapidly evolving into a rictus of horror.
“Oh no,” Hawke gulped. “Oh no. I didn’t-- I wasn’t going to say that. I didn’t mean to say it. Oh no.” She hid her face in her hands. “Please pretend I didn’t say that. I’m so sorry. I’m so-- I didn’t mean to actually-- forget it, forget I said anything, just pretend I didn’t--” Hawke started to curl in on herself through the sheer force of her embarrassment, until her face was pressed to her knees. 
Well. 
Shit. 
That was unexpected. 
Varric wanted to laugh, mostly out of sheer mind-numbing relief, but he knew Hawke definitely wouldn’t take it the way he’d mean it. After all that time tearing himself apart about not wanting to be a burden to her and not wanting to ask for more than she was willing to give, and Hawke went and yanked the rug right out from under him. Of course she did. 
Hawke had switched from apologies to pleas for death from above.
“Hawke.” 
“I’m going to go back to the Fade,” she said, as best he could decipher. “I’m going to go crawl into a rift and let the Nightmare kill me. Maker if you are a kind and loving god you will strike me down where I sta- where I sit.”  
“Hawke.” 
She fell silent, but didn’t move. Varric tried to stay serious, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He touched her shoulder, gently. 
“Would you look at me? Please?” 
Slowly, she sat up and peeked out at him through her fingers. 
“You really don’t have to say anything. You don’t. We can just pretend this never happened and go on like before and you’re smiling.” She dropped her hands, embarrassment forgotten in suspicion. “Why are you smiling?” 
Varric reached out and cupped her face in his hands. 
“Because you took the words right out of my mouth,” he said, and kissed her. 
Now, Varric had a pretty good imagination, but he’d barely allowed himself to consider the possibility that Hawke might return his feelings, let alone what might come after. He hadn’t thought about what it would be like to kiss her. He was equally sure he wouldn’t have done it justice anyway. 
Hawke melted against him with a soft sound he hoped he remembered for the rest of his days, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. He wrapped an arm around her to hold her close and cradled the back of her head in his other hand. Her hair was tacky with blood and demon guts, but her lips were soft.  
It was the best damn kiss of his life. 
“Oh,” Hawke said, when he pulled back. A smile bloomed on her face, wide and wonderful, like a sunrise. “Well then. Aren’t I clever.” 
“Aren’t you just,” Varric said, fondly, and kissed her again. 
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johaerys-writes · 6 years ago
Text
Fictober: The Most Troublesome Man In Thedas
Prompt #3: Now? Now you listen to me? Fandom: Dragon Age Rating: Mature Pairing: Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan
Summary: Tristan Trevelyan is the Herald of Andraste and the leader of the Inquisition. He is also the biggest, most infuriating oaf in all of Thedas and a nightmare to travel with, since he always finds a way to get them all into trouble. As if running around the muddy Hinterlands and being chased by bandits wasn't nightmarish enough. Dorian may very well kill him one of these days, and he'll make sure Cassandra is too far away to stop him.
The fact that Dorian is certainly, undoubtedly, most definitely besotted with the man is only a minor inconvenience.
Read here or on AO3!
**************************
"This place is crawling with bandits," Cassandra said with distaste. The lifeless bodies of several shoddily clad men were strewn at their feet, the expressions of dread still on their faces.
“I wonder what they’re all doing here. We really are in the ass-end of nowhere.”
Dorian glanced at Varric, who was looking up at the tall hills all around them. Dorian couldn’t really blame him for the expression of disapproval and faint disgust on his face; if anyone asked him what he would rather be doing about now, being chased by bandits in a muddy valley in the southern reach of the Hinterlands, several hours away from any sign of civilization, would certainly be the last thing on his list. Having his teeth pulled out and listening to Sera rant about magic for hours were at least two places higher on said list.
Trevelyan was a little way away, wiping his blade on the threadbare tunic of a man by his feet. His brows were knit in a thoughtful frown as he straightened up and glanced at the bright sun overhead, which was slowly moving towards the top of the hills to the west.
"We should find a safe place to camp soon. I don't want to be here come sunset."
"I second that," Cassandra said, sheathing her sword. A thin layer of sweat shone on her forehead. Briskly, she took off her gauntlet and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. It was an unusually warm and sunny day. Even Dorian, who was the least likely to ever get warm in the frigid wasteland that was called Ferelden, was feeling a little flushed under his woollen cloak. He shook it about to get the leaves and dirt off it as soon as he had secured his staff on his back. He couldn't do much about the blood, not without his trusty concoction of soap and oak ash, but it would at least be somewhat presentable for now.
The afternoon rolled in slowly and languidly, and with significant amount of perspiration from all parties as they searched for a suitable place to set up camp. In between the rolling hills, the bandit raids and the entire families of bears that seemed to reside in that area, they managed to find a somewhat safe and tucked away little hill overlooking a small meadow below them.
Trevelyan’s frown had gotten deeper and deeper as the day wore on, and by the time he returned to their humble camp bringing an armful of logs for the fire, the frown had turned into a scowl. Dorian was very much feeling like scowling too, what with all the creatures they had had to kill that day and the humidity that stuck on his skin and dampened his clothes. He knew well that Trevelyan had one more reason to dislike the Hinterlands- those potions he always had to carry with him so that he wouldn't cough and sneeze all over the place.
Sure as clockwork, Trevelyan searched in his pocket as soon as he had plopped down on an log beside him. He produced an innocent looking vial with a bright red liquid inside it. He downed it in one go, much to Cassandra's disapproval. He returned her glare with a questioning look, raising his eyebrows.
"Adan said you shouldn't take so many."
Trevelyan rolled his eyes and frowned at her. "If I’m ever in need of a wetnurse, Cassandra, I'll let you know."
She shot him a disgruntled look and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. It was no secret that their precious Herald Inquisitor infuriated her to end and that she would much rather hit him on the head with the pommel of her sword than listen to his rude comebacks. She resolved to turn her back to him and talk little as she chewed on a piece of dried goat jerky.
Dorian watched as Trevelyan turned around to place the bottle in his satchel and flashed him a tiny mischievous smile, no doubt for having successfully annoyed the Seeker. Dorian could never understand how he took so much satisfaction making people scowl and glare at him, but he found himself smiling back. He could not well do otherwise.
Trevelyan’s gaze drifted from him towards the hills behind them, following their ragged lines. It stopped somewhere in the south, and his eyes widened a little.
"What's that?" he asked, nodding towards a building at the top of a hill.
They all turned around to look. "It's an abandoned villa," Varric said. "I heard about it from the people in the village we passed."
Cassandra eyed him warily. "When did you speak to them? We only stayed for a few moments to get some supplies."
Varric grinned at her. "No such thing as too little time for some small talk, Seeker. You never know what you might learn."
"Ah, yes. I forgot that you have a hard time keeping your tongue behind your teeth."
"I wonder what's in there," Trevelyan said absently, interrupting Varric’s no doubt witty comeback.
"Bandits, most probably," Cassandra said. “There's not a place in this part of the Hinterlands that they haven’t occupied."
Trevelyan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What if there's some sort of treasure? Or at least decent beds? Any place to sleep would be better than this," he said, gesturing towards their hastily set up tents.
Cassandra looked at him wide eyed. "You must be joking."
Instead of a response, Trevelyan stood up, checking his belt for his blades. A quick stop by the potion's table, and off he went.
"Where do you think you're going?" Cassandra demanded after him, but he seemed not to have heard.
Dorian stood up briskly, following in his wake. "I'll keep an eye on him, Seeker. We’ll be back in no time,” he managed to say over his shoulder.
Trevelyan turned to look at him, a glint of mischief in his dark blue eyes.
"Just so you know," Dorian said, catching up with him, " I do find myself agreeing with Cassandra. That is no place to walk in blindly.”
"What harm could there be in taking a quick peek? At worst, we'll see some bandits. At best, we'll find a nice, comfortable bed to sleep in."
"Not to mention dying a horrible death at the hands of murderous strangers. Forgive me, but I'd rather pass."
"You'd pass on a night sleeping by my side?” Trevelyan said, hurt evident on his features. “You wound me."
Dorian gaped at him, flustered. "I... No, that's not what I..." he mumbled awkwardly, before noticing Trevelyan’s mirthful smile. He huffed in mock exasperation and smacked him playfully on the shoulder. "Oh, you handsome devil, you."
Trevelyan’s smile got wider and that tiny little dimple at the edge of his mouth deepened, and it was suddenly as if the world had turned that little bit brighter. "I'll take that as a compliment."
They walked for a while in companionable silence. Dorian relished in the sound of his breath and the fall of his boots on the soft earth, and he found his hand straying more than once to touch his, or thread gently through his arm. It felt more as if they were taking an innocent stroll in nature rather than being on their way to storm a fort, inside of which no one knew what sort of dangers lurked.
The tall gates of the villa soon came into view. It was a large building, one of the few Fereldan buildings that Dorian had found quite impressive. There was a wide balcony, overlooking the wide valley below, and its towers looked sturdy and well made. Whoever once owned it would have surely been a noble, perhaps even an Arl. It smelled of old money.
It also smelt of smoke and animal grease, cooking slowly on a spit. A trail of smoke from a campfire was rising languidly towards a cloudless sky, thick and dark. If there was a better sign not to approach, Dorian couldn’t think of it.
"Alright. We saw what we came here to see. Let's go back now. I can feel my dinner calling me."
Dorian turned to leave, but Trevelyan simply stood there, gazing at the villa with narrow eyes, squinting against the light. "How many do you think are in there?"
Annoyance slithered in Dorian’s voice, but he tried to keep it level. "It hardly matters, as far as I'm concerned. It’s just the two of us, and probably a lot more of them. Come, let's go back. The Seeker will be expecting us."
Trevelyan continued, as if he hadn’t spoken. "If it's a small group, you and I can most definitely take them. And then we'll have a villa to sleep in instead of those soggy tents."
"Oh for the love of the Maker," Dorian exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "You're not seriously suggesting we storm a keep possibly littered with bandits just because you hate camping, are you?"
But Trevelyan didn't even bother to answer before he took off, crouching like a panther as he climbed the small slope towards the villa's entrance. He seemed as if he was melting into the shadows, his pale blonde hair the only thing standing out amongst the tall grass.
Dorian grumbled in annoyance as he followed in his footsteps, crouching low behind him. A small part of him hoped Trevelyan was right and that the fort wasn't as well manned. He couldn't stand another night sleeping in those shoddy tents either, with the cold slithering in from every crevasse and all sorts of bugs crawling all over him. However, another part of him wanted nothing more than to drag Trevelyan away by his ear, and manners be damned.
Muffled talk and laughter drifted from the inside of the villa. Dorian thought he could hear at least five different voices, and they all sounded cheery and well humoured. They probably had made a big kill that day, and were about to celebrate with a lot of food and ale.
Dorian was about to whisper in Trevelyan's ear that engaging five or more strong men was not worth a good bed, but he held up a finger to his lips to stop him. He motioned for him to stay where he was and cover his flank while he stormed on from the shadows.
Dorian pursed his lips and shook his head furiously, but Trevelyan was already gone.
"Vishante kaffas!" Dorian muttered under his breath as he watched him move silently through the shadows and up the steep stairs to the main courtyard.
He followed soon after, unhinging his staff from his back. Dorian was not near as good at stealth as Trevelyan was, so a tiny spell to muffle the sound of his boots on the stone floor would have to do the job.
The sound of Trevelyan's throwing knives slicing through the air and finding their target with a sharp thud and muffled grunts came much, much sooner than Dorian expected. It was in a surge of panic that he climbed the rest of the stairs, already preparing a barrier to place over them both. He arrived at the stair landing, only to find a small bandit camp in complete disarray. A thick cloud of smoke from Trevelyan's smoke bombs covered everything, and men were scrambling in a panic for swords, bows and arrows.
Dorian didn't even have to cast a terror spell on them, so in shock were they all already. Instead, he cast one fireball after the next, their deafening cries echoing in the yard as they burned. Trevelyan was leaping in between them, agile like a fox, slashing at elbows, knees, throats, anything exposed by their armour. One by one, they collapsed, clutching their useless limbs as they bled out on the stone floor of the courtyard. With some fascination, Dorian noted that Heir's training had yielded results after all.
When all the bandits were motionless on the ground, Trevelyan glanced around them with some satisfaction. Dorian also gingerly surveyed the scene. The mutton on the spit sizzled over the fire, its skin shiny and golden brown. If he wasn't feeling a little queasy from all the death he had seen that day, he would seriously consider digging in.
"See?” Trevelyan said and placed his daggers back in their scabbards. “I knew we would manage."
"That was one gamble I would much rather not take again," Dorian said with some irritation as he slung his staff behind his back.
Trevelyan was no doubt ready to retort with a witty quip of his own when they heard a vicious roar coming from the tower above them.
“Uh-oh,” he said softly. His hands instantly flew to the daggers hanging by his belt. “I think we pissed someone off up there.”
“That doesn’t sound particularly inviting, no,” Dorian agreed.
Before they knew it, a beast of a man ran down the stairs, the largest war hammer Dorian had seen held fast in his grip. Dark eyes were peering at them from below a sturdy helmet, and his freshly shined pauldrons glinted the sun.
He looked at the corpses around them, his eyes wide with fury. “You killed my men,” he growled.
“That we did, yes.” Trevelyan slid his knives out of their scabbards. “Leave now, and we might consider sparing your life.”
The man’s face twisted in fury. His grip on his hammer tightened. “Not a fucking chance.”
He took a step forward, swinging his monster of a hammer towards Trevelyan’s head. He avoided it easily, hopping to the side. The bandit swung again, this time targeting his middle. Trevelyan leapt and rolled to the side, landing on his feet a little way away. The hammer cut through the air with a whoosh, only to land on a wall, sputtering broken stones and debris everywhere.
Dorian took advantage of the man’s surprise to cast lightning on him, zapping him where he stood. Trevelyan’s brows were knitted in concentration as he took out a small vial out of his belt and coated his blades with its contents. Then, before the bandit had recovered from his shock, he plunged his daggers several times into the gaps in the man’s armour. He growled in pain, stepping back and clutching his middle. Blood flowed through his fingertips and he stared at it, eyes impossibly wide.
“You bastard-“ he started, his bloody hands tightening around the shaft of his hammer. He took a step forward, his armoured bootsteps ringing, before he suddenly wobbled and dropped to his knees. Trevelyan’s face was expressionless as he watched him convulse violently and foam at the mouth.
Dorian’s fingers tapped against the wood of his staff where he stood, unsure whether he should wait for the man to rise. “That’s it? He fell so easily? I swear, his underlings put up more of a fight.”
“That’s because I didn’t use any poison on them,” he said, sliding his daggers back in their scabbards.
“Poison,” Dorian breathed, nodding slowly. Of course. Trevelyan always carried potent poisons with him, their recipes taught to him by Heir, but he had only rarely seen him use them. He watched with keen fascination as the man slowly bled to death, coughing and wheezing all the while. It was grizzly, surely, but he couldn’t deny his interest at seeing assassin tools at work.
“Well, that was that, I guess,” Trevelyan said casually. “Ready to do some exploring now?”
Dorian’s eyes snapped from the dead man on the floor to Trevelyan’s face. It was pale, as it always was, but his cheeks were slightly flushed, and a few drops of sweat arced slowly down his neck, pooling at the dip of his collarbone. The sight made a wave of yearning rise inside him. Dorian swallowed thickly as he tore his gaze away from it and glanced at the sun, already beginning to dive behind the tops of the hills. “I think we should go back. Seeker Cassandra will be looking for us.”
Trevelyan scoffed. “Don’t tell me we came all the way here and did so much work just so we could return to that miserable camp.”
Dorian looked at him, unimpressed. “That’s your idea of work?” he asked, gesturing around him.
“I… I didn’t mean it like that,” Trevelyan said, his brows furrowed and a hint of hurt in his voice. He ran a hand through his hair, then glanced at the men lying around them, and took a step back. “I’ll just go have a quick look. You can wait for me here. I won’t be very long.” And with that, he turned around and marched towards one of the tall towers.
“Oh, for the love of-“
Dorian’s eyes rolled so far up in his head, that he thought he would see the back of his skull. Trevelyan could make a saint curse, and Dorian was certainly no saint, but even so, he couldn’t bring himself to wait there while that fool of a man strolled about on his own in an unfamiliar fortress. With a sharp huff of irritation he walked briskly after him.
Trevelyan was already climbing the dingy wooden ladder leading up to the top of the tower when Dorian caught up with him. It looked fragile, and Dorian seriously doubted that it was leading to anything worthwhile, but he had to admit that the view from where he was standing was quite nice.
Trevelyan hopped up on the first level, quick and lithe as a cat. A moment later, a blonde head peeked through the opening to peer at him. “Are you coming, or were you just staring at my arse?”
Dorian jolted slightly at the question, then gave him a wide, teasing smile. “You can’t blame me for looking. It was right in front of me. Besides, there has to be some kind of reward for me after all the trouble you put me through, wouldn’t you agree? Beggars can’t be choosers in this case.”
An idea of a smile curled Trevelyan’s lips before he disappeared again, and Dorian heard the creak of the no doubt century old ladders as they protested under Trevelyan’s weight. Hurriedly he climbed up after him, cursing every time his cloak got tangled in his feet.
He arrived at the second level only to find Trevelyan staring up at the last ladder, a dilapidated thing that had seen better days. Dorian wiped the dust off his hands as he joined him.
“What’s wrong? Sizing up that ladder, are you? It is a most formidable foe.”
Trevelyan snorted a laugh. “No." He looked back up, his expression thoughtful. "I think there’s something up there.”
“Like what?”
“I’m not sure. I can feel it in my head.”
Dorian looked at him curiously, then up at the next level. “Well, it doesn’t seem like a very good idea. I don’t think this ladder will bear both our weights.”
Trevelyan stood for a moment longer, as if considering. Then, he hopped on the ladder, climbing it as swiftly as if he were a monkey.
“And off he goes,” Dorian muttered through tight lips. “Of course. Why would he listen. Why would anyone ever listen. By all means, let’s disregard Dorian’s advice, who has read more books than all the Fereldans put together, and follow an utter fool because ‘he can feel something in his head’! Oh, if only I had something to smack some sense into that head of his-”
“Did you say something?” Trevelyan asked from atop the tower.
Dorian bit back many of the curses he was about to utter before climbing up the ladder. He emerged on the tower, grumbling under his breath, but all his protests died in his mouth when he glanced around him. Past the tower’s sturdy rock railing lay a view equal to which Dorian couldn’t remember seeing in a long while. The verdant valley stretched endlessly below them, the tops of oak trees and the tall grass stirring languidly in the wind. A stream flowed into a small lake, its waters glistening silver and gold as they moved. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in glorious reds and golds and pinks.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Trevelyan whispered beside him, his fingers threading softly through his.
Affection bloomed in Dorian’s chest, warm and soothing. He turned to look at him, at his face that was painted golden by the setting sun, at his dark blue eyes, almost violet in the warm light, at the mischievous smile that still lingered on his lips.
“You’re a fool,” Dorian said softly, threading his hand through his hair and pulling him closer, “but you’re my fool.”
Trevelyan smiled as his lips parted, soft and pliant under Dorian’s. His hands curled around Dorian’s sides as he leaned towards him, fingers digging gently into his skin through his clothes. They kissed slowly, tenderly, without worrying about who was to see. It was just them there, after all. Two people standing at the top of the world.
Dorian pulled back slightly, running his knuckles down Trevelyan’s neck. Trevelyan’s expression was soft and dreamy as he looked at him, the warmth in his gaze drawing Dorian in like a magnet. He was about to lean in and kiss him again, when Trevelyan froze and glanced around him.
“What happened?” Dorian asked.
“I can feel it again. That thing in my head.”
Dorian watched him with increasing curiosity as he turned around, looking about him on the ground. Then, without a word, he stepped towards a corner of the tower, crouching beside some old casks and sacks of grain. He rummaged through them for a while before he pulled out a bottle, caked with dust, a look of utter glee on his face.
“See? I told you I could feel something!”
He hopped back to Dorian, holding up the bottle. Dorian edged back, his nose wrinkling in disgust, swatting him away.
“First of all, what is that grimy thing; and second of all, can you keep it at least five inches away from my face? I’d hate to get what seems like two decades worth of dust on my clothes.”
Trevelyan wasn’t even paying attention to him as he brushed the dust off the bottle and squinted at the label. “Rowan’s Rose…” he muttered thoughtfully. “Isn’t that from Tevinter? From the Vol Dorma vineyards?”
Dorian’s eyes widened so much, he thought they would pop right out of their sockets. He took the bottle out of Trevelyan’s hands and stared at it. “I cannot believe this,” he gasped. “How on earth did wine like that find its way here? Even in Tevinter, it costs a pretty penny!” He eyed Trevelyan warily. “And you say you could feel it in your head that it was here? Is that a new skill of yours? Your affinity for liquor has reached an entire new level, I have to say.”
Trevelyan flashed him a wide, unabashed grin, the tiny dimple by his mouth more pronounced than ever. Dorian didn’t remember ever seeing him so damned exuberant. “Our trip here was worth it, then?”
Dorian rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on his face, too. “It will be once we’ve established that it’s drinkable. We cannot know how long it’s been sitting here. For all we know, it might have turned to vinegar about a decade ago. In any case,” he said, giving him back the bottle and walking towards the ladder, “now that we’ve found what we were looking for we can go back, don’t you think?”
He had only taken one step down the ladder, when it creaked and moaned in a manner that sounded entirely ominous. Trevelyan ran to his side and helped him up. It was mere seconds after Dorian had scrambled up to the tower that the ladder crumbled and fell, its pieces crashing against the floor of the lower levels. They both stared for a long while in silence as their only means of getting off that tower lay in rotten pieces below them.
Trevelyan cleared his throat. “You don’t think we could jump down without breaking anything, do you?”
Dorian glared at him, already feeling his blood rising to his cheeks. “No. I do not.”
“Oh.” He glanced down again, considering. Then, he shrugged and took a step back. “You’re probably right.”
Dorian could only watch Trevelyan walked over to the dusty sacks on the tower corner and lay down on the floor with one arm tucked under his head, as if there was nothing else to do other than go to blasted sleep.
Dorian threw his arms up in the air in a plea towards the heavens. “Oh, for- now? Now you listen to me? After all the times that I’ve told you not to do something and you went ahead and did it anyway, this is the time that you decided that I’m probably right?”
Trevelyan shot him a look of honest confusion, as if he had not a clue why Dorian was upset. “Well, there’s not much we can do, is there? There’s no point trying to get down now. I’m sure Cassandra will come after us if we’re gone for too long. I’m sure she wouldn’t let the leader of the Inquisition die of starvation on a random tower. Besides,” he added, “it’s not that bad. The weather is still quite warm, and we have a bottle of exquisite wine. I say we just sit back and enjoy it.”
Dorian stared at him incredulously for a long moment. Then, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m starting to think this was all an elaborate ploy to get me alone.”
“Perhaps.” Trevelyan shrugged casually as he sat up and started working at uncorking the bottle. He gestured at the space beside him with his head. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”
Dorian had a mind to really tell him what he thought of this whole debacle, but all his annoyance melted into grudging affection at the half smile that crept up Trevelyan’s lips, and the mischievous look that shone in his eyes. He huffed in irritation as he walked towards him and sat on the floor beside him. “You’re the most annoying, most troublesome man in all of Thedas, you know that?”
“I do,” he said softly, snaking his arm around Dorian’s waist and pulling him close. “And you’re the most beautiful, most fascinating man in all of Thedas.”
“Oh, no. No, no.” Dorian looked pointedly at him as he leaned back. “You won’t sweet-talk your way out of this. Don’t even try.”
“Sweet-talk? I was only telling the truth.” Trevelyan’s wounded look swiftly melted into a teasing smile. “Want to know what the most beautiful thing about you is right now?”
Dorian almost rolled his eyes, but couldn’t resist playing along. “Oh? And what, pray, is that? Don’t tell me my hair, or I might believe you.”
Trevelyan huffed a laugh. “No, although I do love your hair. It’s your eyebrow. The way you arch it like that. Just when you’re about to tell me off.” He drew Dorian towards him, and this time Dorian brought no resistance. Trevelyan lowered his voice to a soft whisper, his lips only a breath away from his. “Do it again.”
Dorian felt his hair standing on end as Trevelyan’s breath tickled his skin. He looked up into his eyes, trying as best he could to look annoyed. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of that eyebrow if you keep acting like that, let me tell you.”
Trevelyan chuckled breathily as he leaned closer, burying his face in Dorian’s neck and trailing soft kisses down the length of his throat, the wine bottle entirely forgotten beside them. Dorian could feel the smile on Trevelyan’s lips as a soft murmur ran over his skin. “I should make sure to annoy you more often, then.”
Dorian was sure he had a witty comeback to that. He really was. But when Trevelyan's lips touched his, and his warm hand slithered under his shirt, he entirely forgot what he had been about to say.
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cruelangelstheses · 6 years ago
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close your eyes (and i’ll close mine)
fandom: dragon age rating: G characters: anders/m!hawke words: 2k additional tags: modern au, fluff, some humor, fall festival description: at a local fall festival, demitri hawke and his boyfriend anders get lost in a corn maze. a/n: sup!!! i wrote this for the @fic-or-treat exchange for @fade-footprints featuring one of their hawkes, demitri! i tried my best to do him justice!! i hope you enjoy it!! <3 also apologies this is less of a halloween fic specifically and more of just fall/october in general haha. title from “so i thought” by flyleaf
read it on ao3
“I think we’re lost.” 
Demitri turns around and pouts, the orange light of the sunset glinting off his coiffed blond hair. “Anders, you wound me,” he says with a mischievous but good-natured grin. “Of course we’re not lost.”
Anders gestures to their general surroundings, noting the seemingly endless corn, the lack of other people around, and the dead end that they’ve just stumbled into—the fourth one in the past five minutes. “Care to explain to me, then, why we’re still surrounded by corn?” he asks, raising an eyebrow to hide his amusement. Of course this would happen to them.
“I thought we’d take the scenic route,” Demitri replies without missing a beat, but there’s nothing “scenic” about a maze where everything looks the same—which is kind of, you know, the whole point.
“It’s a maze. There’s only one route,” Anders points out. “And I don’t think we’re on it.”
“Not with that attitude,” Demitri says, lightly brushing past him out of the dead end and back into the last crossroads they encountered. Anders can hear him muttering to himself: “Okay, so we came from that direction, and we’ve already tried all these other paths and none of them go anywhere, so we should probably backtrack…”
Anders smiles a little at the sight of his boyfriend somehow taking this corn maze so seriously, and yet not very seriously at all.
It’s about halfway through Harvestmere, and they’re here to attend a local “fall festival” where a lot of their friends said they’d be. There’s a minor stipulation, though, to make things more interesting: in order to get into the festival, everyone has to make it through the corn maze. Easy enough, except that apparently it isn’t.
“This way,” Demitri calls as he starts heading back the way they came. Anders follows him wordlessly, listening as he walks and talks. “I think we’re getting close. We just have to take the one path that we didn’t go down yet, and we should be—”
Demitri abruptly stops in his tracks, causing Anders to nearly crash into him. Not too far from where they’re standing, Anders can see some bright lights that signal not the exit, but the entrance. The lights of the festival, on the other hand, are farther in the distance, faint against the rapidly darkening sky. They haven’t really gotten anywhere, it turns out, or if they did, they got turned around at some point.
“Okay,” Demitri says sheepishly. “I think we’re lost.”
Anders doesn’t bother with an I told you so. Instead, he shrugs and says, “Well, look at it this way. We can just start over, make a fresh start.”
Demitri’s momentarily pensive expression melts into one of gratitude and relief. “You’re right,” he says with a soft smile. He must’ve been worried about how Anders would react—Dimitri always wants to make things perfect for others, always wants to make things right. He can hide his emotions from most people, but not from Anders.
His confidence renewed, Demitri sets off down a random path. Again, Anders is content to follow him, trying his best to take in his surroundings, to see if they feel familiar. It’s fairly difficult when the only “landmarks” to go by are cornstalks that look slightly different from the rest, and those are hard to identify, let alone keep track of, especially in the ever-increasing darkness.
“Ugh,” Demitri says after about ten minutes of wandering, though the lights of the entrance are definitely a bit farther away from them now. “I’m almost tempted to just push my way through the cornstalks and call it a day.”
Anders laughs a little. “Don’t.”
“I said almost.”
“Still,” Anders says thoughtfully as he glances up at the last traces of sunlight. “I’m in no rush. We’ve got all evening. And any time spent with you is good.”
Due to the lack of light, Anders isn’t quite certain, but he thinks he sees Demitri’s neck and freckled cheeks turn pink.
It was already cool out, but now with the sun down, there’s definitely a chill, and Demitri, of course, is wearing short sleeves. The next time they have to stop to figure out which path to take next, Anders pulls off his denim jacket, covered in faux fur on the inside to keep him warm, and holds it out to Demitri. “You look cold.”
Demitri eyes it awkwardly. “What? I’m not cold,” he says, despite the goosebumps clearly rising on his arms. Never let it be said that Demitri Hawke knows how to accept any sort of help (though Anders shouldn’t talk—he’s the same way). “Seriously, Anders, I don’t want to take your jacket from you. It’s my fault I didn’t bring one—”
Anders holds a hand up. “Don’t worry about it. I’m wearing long sleeves underneath. And I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
Reluctantly, Demitri accepts the jacket and slips it on. His shoulders are broader than Anders’s, so it’s a bit snug, but he doesn’t complain, and Anders doesn’t miss the brief flash of reprieve that crosses his face. This is a common scenario in their relationship because they’re both so selfless, and they both hide or ignore their own troubles because they’re too busy trying to help other people with theirs. They’re both givers—Anders is a nurse, while Demitri currently works at a homeless shelter, and truth be told, they can read each other’s exhaustion better than they can read their own. It’s been a learning experience for both of them, figuring out not just how to love but how to be loved, how to allow themselves to be cared for.
As they continue through the maze, Demitri’s phone rings, and when he picks it up, Anders can hear Varric’s voice on the other end. “Freckles! Where are you? You said you and Blondie would be here half an hour ago!”
“We’re almost there,” Demitri says. “I think. We got lost. In the corn maze.”
Varric laughs. “Of course you did. You can’t walk from your bedroom to the kitchen without something happening to you on the way, and that’s what I love about you.”
Demitri scoffs lightheartedly and puts a hand to his chest, even though Varric can’t see it. “You mean it’s not my quick wit and charm, but my propensity for bad luck?”
Anders smirks. “I appreciate your quick wit and charm.”
To his surprise, Varric replies, “We know you do, Blondie.”
Anders can feel his face heating up. “How did you hear that?”
“I put you guys on speaker as soon as I heard the words ‘lost in the corn maze.’”
“Well, you’ll get to talk to me in person soon,” Demitri says as he scans their surroundings. “But right now you’re distracting me. If we get lost again, I’m blaming you.”
Varric chuckles. “Fine. I’ll leave you and Blondie alone,” he says teasingly, and with that, he hangs up.
Demitri pauses and tilts his head up, taking a deep breath through his nose. “I smell pumpkin,” he says, his eyes shining with anticipation. “We’re getting close.”
Sure enough, another ten minutes later, they see the lights of the exit in the distance.
“Oh, thank the Maker!” Demitri gasps, sprinting down the path. Anders laughs and jogs after him, unable to stop his heart from feeling light and free as he steps out of the corn maze into the lights and bustle of the festival. It’s not very large, but it feels like home, especially with Demitri at his side.
As if on cue, a group of their friends rushes over to them from one side of the exit—they must’ve headed over after Varric’s phone call. Demitri pumps his fist in the air, whooping triumphantly. “Candy apple, here I come!”
“Actually,” Varric says, holding a hand up, “there’s a hayride leaving in a few minutes, if you guys want to come along with us.”
Demitri turns to Anders, raising his eyebrows. “What do you think?”
Anders shrugs and smiles. “Whatever you want, love.”
Merrill makes an aww sound. Isabela and Aveline laugh, and Fenris makes a gesture like he’s shooting himself in the mouth, which causes Isabela to laugh harder.
Demitri grins. “Sure, we’ll come with you guys.”
Near the edge of the festival area sits a hay wagon pulled by a green tractor. The driver has started loading people in, so everyone wanders over to the small line, Anders slipping his hand into Demitri’s and Isabela draping her arm over Merrill’s slim shoulders.
When it’s their turn to get in, Demitri climbs up first, sitting down on a hay bale right at the very back of the wagon. Anders sits down next to him, with Merrill and Isabela on his other side, Varric on the corner seat, and Fenris and Aveline beside Varric, perpendicular to the rest of the group. Demitri sighs contentedly and rests his head on Anders’s shoulder.
Once the wagon is filled, the driver closes the door and hops onto the tractor. He says something to the group, welcoming them to the festival, asking them how they’re enjoying it, but Anders barely pays attention, too focused on the feeling of Demitri’s breath on his collar and their hands clasped together. They’ve been dating for quite a while now, but there are some moments where the little things still get him.
If neither of them were bothered by the chill before, they certainly are now, with the evening breeze of late autumn cutting through them due to the motion of the wagon. Demitri lifts his head up, but slides a bit closer so that they’re almost huddling like penguins. Anders laments that they couldn’t stop for some hot chocolate or cider beforehand.
Despite the cold, though, the hayride is definitely peaceful, away from the bustling of the festival, surrounded by fields and trees and the occasional barn, shed, or small farmhouse. The darkness actually makes it feel even calmer. The world is falling asleep, quiet and subdued, and there is no artificial light, only the moon.
“Hey,” Demitri whispers, though other people are also talking quietly. “You’re having a good time, right?”
Anders just smiles faintly. “I told you, love. Any time spent with you is good, no matter what we’re doing.”
Demitri smiles back at him, but he still looks vaguely concerned. “Here,” Anders says. “Close your eyes.”
Demitri raises an eyebrow, but complies without a word.
Slowly, Anders leans forward, closing his own eyes as he rests a hand on Demitri’s cheek and kisses him softly. After a brief moment of surprise, Demitri kisses him back, quick and chaste, before they both reluctantly pull away.
Anders allows himself the tiniest smirk. “Do you believe me now?”
This time, when Demitri smiles at him, it’s completely genuine, the worry erased from his face. “Yes,” he breathes, and even with nothing but the moon to illuminate the wagon, Anders can see the blush rising under his skin.
“Gay,” Isabela mumbles teasingly, despite the fact that she now suddenly has lipstick marks all over her face from Merrill, whose head is on her lap. Varric snorts.
“Whatever. I bet we could out-gay you two,” Demitri says offhandedly.
“Bet you can’t,” Isabela shoots back.
“Bet we can.”
“Let’s go right now—”
“No, please don’t,” Aveline says.
Isabela waves a hand. “Alright, how about this? There are some carnival games at the festival. Whoever can win their partner the biggest prize by the end of the night wins.”
Demitri grins. “Oh, you’re on.”
Anders exchanges a glance with Merrill, who simply giggles. Anders shakes his head affectionately at the way his boyfriend suddenly buzzes with excitement. Demitri is always a peacemaker when it comes to serious conflict, but this is a silly bet with a friend, and neither he nor Anders would ever pass up an opportunity to spoil the other. They’re both givers, after all, just trying to learn how to receive.
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beardrabbles · 6 years ago
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FLUSTERED
rating: k ( not a single swear :o )
words: 2,183
characters: female inquisitor reader, cullen rutherford, lil’ bit of Varric
notes: Been playing DA:I a lot lately, and I had a very strong urge to write for Cullen. Just a lil’ fluff piece because I’ve never written for this fandom before~ Also, this totally wasn’t prompted because I’m a donut and got lost.  .  . Shush.
tags: none
When the tired-eyed commander stepped out of his office, he didn’t expect to find you there. He had assumed that you, as well as most of Skyhold, would be fast asleep by now. The sun had set hours ago, leaving most of the fortress blanketed in darkness, yet there you stood — hands on your hips and face scrunched with a look of pure perplexity. The sound of the door squeaking open hadn’t broken you from your thoughts, your deep concentration nearly eliciting a chuckle from the blond.
“Inquisitor?” He didn’t approach you silently, as he wasn’t the type to sneak, but he still managed to startle you as if he had. Eyes wide, you turned your gaze to him. There was barely enough torchlight to see his properly, but you would know that voice anywhere. Kind but firm, with a hint of curiosity behind it.
“Cullen! That.  .  . is your office, isn’t it?” You peered around the side of his broad shoulders to peek at the door he had stepped through.
“It is. It should be. I’ve been working in there for the past five hours, and it hasn’t changed.” A faint smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, drawing his scar taunt. You narrowed your eyes at his snarky remark and crossed your arms tight over your chest.
“Not the kitchen then?” You wondered.
Cullen shook his head. “Not the kitchen. Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m looking for it, but I may have.  .  . gotten lost.” You felt ashamed regardless the fact that you hadn’t been given the opportunity to explore. The paths to important rooms had been memorized, but so much had happened and had begun to happen since your arrival at Skyhold that you were only familiar with your private quarters and the room where you would strategize with your closest allies. Everything else was a confusing mess of high stone walls, scaffolding and doors. So many doors.
Anyone in your position would have been lost. The only reason you confessed was because your stomach demanded it. Somewhere in this stronghold was a kitchen packed with food, and you were determined to find it with or without help. Although, given Cullen was the one to discover you first, you wouldn’t have minded a little assistance.
“Maker, it’s not even morning and you want to eat?” He sounded genuinely surprised. You were already embarrassed, but his tone made the color burst in your cheeks. Huffing through your nose, you gave him yet another look of offense.
“Does it bother you that I like to eat?”
He was silent for a moment, honey-colored eyes meeting yours. He opened his mouth, made to say something, then reconsidered. His cheeks were a softer and more subtle shade of pink than yours were, but it was still noticale.
“No, it doesn’t bother me.” He nodded his head towards the stairs, gesturing for you to follow. “Better that you eat and have the energy for later than to be starved.”
“So glad you understand, Commander.” You grinned wide and placed your hands behind your back, following Cullen at a leisurely pace as he guided you away from his office. “But you’re up awfully late, aren’t you?”
“I’ll admit, I lost track of time. I’d lit a candle to do a little work before bed and before I knew it, it was already half melted.” He smiled sheepishly and rubbed at the back of his neck. You couldn’t help but to giggle.
“Always working hard. I’ll wager you work in your sleep too. Do you dream about the war table, Cullen?” You teased the moment you were given the chance. He’d already poked fun at you twice, so it was only fair that you return the favor. He acknowledged this with a forced laugh.
“Oh, you’re funny. I have dreams like anyone else.”
“I’ll have to ask you about them someday.” You promoted quietly. “If you want to tell me about them, I mean.”
“No one’s asked about them before. They’re nothing special, really.” He shook his head and came to a stop at the base of a curved staircase. “You’ll find the door to the kitchen up there. Happy snacking, Inquisitor. And good night.”
You were already making your way up when he wished you well. Stopping abruptly, you turned on the heels of your boots and frowned.
“You’re not joining me?”
Like you, he stopped. His head tilted a fraction before he, too, turned. You regretted asking; he looked well beyond tired, usually bright and fiery eyes appearing duller and heavy. His kempt hair had begun to fall out of place, wavy strands tickling at his slightly wrinkled forehead. A night of sleep ( and perhaps even a few hours extra ) would do him some good. But rather than reject the offer, he remained where he stood.
“I didn’t know it was expected of me.”
“It’s —  It’s not, but I figured ——”
He arched a thick brow. “Would you like me to join you?”
You stood three stairs up, hands now in front of you. You fidgeted, toying with your fingernails while thinking quick as you could. Of course you would have liked it. You would have been more than giddy if he sat with you. You tried to deny that the man made your stomach knot and your head fuzzy, but it was so very difficult when he spoke to you and looked at you with that curious, lion-like gaze.
“Yes?”
“That sounds more like a question than an answer.” He pointed out. Infatuated you were, but being knee-deep in a crush didn’t prevent you from sassing back when sassed.
“Yes, I want you to sneak a very, very, very early morning snack with me. We haven’t gotten to speak much since we got here, and it feels wrong. We’re fighting a hard fight, I know, but that shouldn’t mean that we miss out during these peaceful moments, right?” You may have rambled, but it earned a larger smile from Cullen.
“We fight so that we may have more peaceful moments like this, Inquisitor. So that everyone can have more.”
“Yes, but — there isn’t much we can do at this time of night aside from sneaking into that kitchen.” You stepped backwards, taking a few more stairs along the way. “Or are you afraid you’ll get in trouble?”
A slight, almost unnoticeable furrow appeared in Cullen’s brow.
“I’m not afraid.” He argued.
You shrugged and hurried up the stairs. Fortunately for you, the door had remained unlocked. You opened it a crack and peeked in. The fire was dead and the room empty, but both were easily remedied. In little to no time, there was a roaring fire licking at the inside of the fireplace. It cast a warm light over the whole of the kitchen, giving you a spectacular view of the food stacked on its many tables and counters. You bit down on your lip, wondering where you should begin.
“You don’t plan to eat all of it, do you?” Cullen asked. You rolled your eyes.
“I didn’t until you asked.” You hurried over to a wheel of cheese with a knife in hand. A large portion of it was cut away, and soon it was joined by a slab of bread you warmed near the fire. Once you had a small plate stacked, you settled yourself at a table. Clean pans were shoved aside or stacked on top of another, and a pair of stools dragged from the outer edge of the room. Cullen sat on the other side of the table, the plate spaced eventually between you.
Bits and pieces were picked from the plate and popped into your mouths, until only crumbs remained. And even then, you managed to get the plate nearly spotless.
You licked your fingers clean of cheese, your hunger sated. Across from you, Cullen chuckled. He hadn’t eaten as much as you, and had even waved aside your offer to get more. Seemed he wasn’t as fond of food as you were. Or was it that he wanted you to have your fill? Either way, he seemed content.
“I hope this isn’t going to become a habit.” He finally said. Head between your hands and elbows propped on the tabletop, you peered at him him curiously.
“Hope what doesn’t become a habit? Us spending time together?” You raised both eyebrows and had to resist the urge to let out a bark of laughter when he fell into a fit of flustered stammering.
“N — No, not that. I.  .  . I wouldn’t mind more of that, actually. I meant sneaking into the kitchen.” He clarified. You let out a contemplative hum that gave off the impression of thinking without really thinking.
“Why?”
“It hardly sets a good example for the rest of the Inquisition. You shouldn’t be in here so late at night.” He replied in a more somber tone. You knew he wasn’t meaning to scold you, and you knew that he was right. But you felt your impish side flare. It didn’t happen often, but you could hardly pass up the chance when it did.
“Then should I join you in your office next time I find myself up at these hours?” It sounded far more suggestive than intended, but it got the reaction you were hoping for. Rosy cheeks, wide eyes and an agape mouth. You could hear his mind coming to a screeching halt. You remained calm, however, despite the love-induced nausea in your stomach.
Flirting wasn’t a strength on yours, but too many people had noticed your lingering gazes and had kindly offered to lend you a helping hand. So far, that help had only taken on the form of crafty one-liners. You’d scoffed at the idea at first, claiming Cullen was too uptight and hardened to fall for something as silly as a flirtation. You were wrong, clearly.
“I’m not sure why you’d want to do that.” He stood sharply, stool screeching underneath him. The laughter bubbling up from your chest finally broke free, a mess of giggles sounding behind your hands.
“Didn’t you just say you wouldn’t mind spending more time together?” You reminded casually.
“Yes, well. I did. I meant it, but —” He paused to clear his throat. “Perhaps somewhere less.  .  .”
“Private?”
“Yes! Not that spending time with you in private wouldn’t be nice. Oh, Maker.” He sighed the curse softly and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “I think it’s about time we both got some sleep.”
“You’re leaving?” You enjoyed teasing him, but the downward droop of your lips was genuine. You were sad to see him go after such a short-lived moment. Seeing him fumble with his words and grasp blindly for answer put a dent in his steadfast and stoic personality. You respected the man for his ability to command and think when put under pressure, but it was a relief to see that there was more to him than just his title and position.
He had a sense of humor, and a smile warmer than the sun itself — that smile was what kept you going some days. You wanted more of that, and you had hoped that a few minutes alone would tell you whether or not it was worth pursuing these feelings. Because you already knew that he was worth it.
You were unsure now. He was quick to leave, making for the door like his life depended on it. The soles of his boots thudded on the floor, matching the tempo of your painfully beating heart.
“It’s late.” His argument was solid, unlike his voice. It wobbled, sounded pinched. He stopped, hand pressed flat to the door.
“Wait, Cullen.” You abandoned your plate and the table. Quick strides carried you towards him, but you stopped short when he cleared this throat.
“Inquisitor.  .  .” He fell silent for half of a second, but it felt so much longer than that. “Y/N, you’re always welcome into my office, no matter the time of day. You know that, right? There doesn’t need to be a reason. If you need me, I’ll be there.”
The pure sincerity touching his voice stunned you. He’d spoken to you like that once before, and you swore to yourself that it would likely be the only time that he did. He had proven you wrong yet again.
“You mean it?”
“You were there for us in Haven. I know you aren’t doing this for thanks, but I don’t want you to believe that you’re the only one here that can give support. You’re.  .  . important.” His shoulders relaxed under the fur collar.
Your heart felt clenched inside your chest, and you thought you’d stopped breathing. You raised a hand, let it smooth over his back. You thought you felt a shiver, but you didn’t want to mention it and risk embarrassing him too thoroughly.
“Then I think I’ll come to your office tomorrow morning. I’ll bring you breakfast. Sound good?”
Cullen glanced over his shoulder, lips pulling upwards. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Then you best get to bed.” You ushered him out the door once it was open. Leaning against it, you gave your lip another tug with your teeth. He only looked back once to give you a small bow of his head and a wave, which you returned. Eventually, his frame would disappear around the bend.
Behind you, the door leading further into the stronghold creaked open.
“Is he gone?” Varric’s voice floated in, carrying with it an edge of mirth. You slouched on the spot and groaned.
“He’s gone.”
“And how’d it go?” He asked, dragging out the very last syllable. A cringe marred your features. Your hand dove into the pocket of your trousers, fishing out an impressive handful of gold. It was slapped into his bigger, rougher palm with a sneer.
“I shouldn’t be paying you this much just to unlock a bloody door.” You growled.
Varrick, beaming from ear to ear, counted through the coins. “You had a problem, I had a solution. Sounds like it paid off to me.”
“Go stick your head in nug dung, Varrick.”
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hamiltalian-creates · 6 years ago
Text
I recently saw a post daring people to mash up their first fandoms with their newest fandoms and, for me, that’s Ninjago and Sanders Sides, respectively. So, I wrote the first of I don’t know how many potential chapters in this AU. There’s not much exposition, so feel free to ask whatever questions you might have. 
There was nothing that soothed the soul quite like the soft music of a flute, Thomas found. Despite the stress of being in charge of four teenagers, he always managed to completely let go when he was playing his favorite wooden flute. In fact, he was so relaxed, he almost didn’t notice the shuriken that lodged itself into a wooden support beam, inches from his head. 
Thomas’s eyes snapped open and he sat up as soon as he realized how close he’d been to death, turning to face where the other four were supposed to be having a simple sparring match. Instead, what he saw was Logan, his lightning powered pupil, and Roman, his firey explosion of s student, on the ground wrestling, practically foaming at the mouth as they fought to hurt each other. 
Reacting as quickly as he could, Thomas jumped up and grabbed the two by the collar, yanking them apart and refusing to let go. 
“What is going on here?! I space out for two minutes and you two are trying to kill each other again?!” 
Thomas got a response, but it was far from a clear one, the two teenagers yelling over each other until they were shocked into silence by a minor earthquake. Thomas glanced over at Virgil, fighting a smile over the fact that he was accepting his earth powers. 
“Can you two ever shut up?” Virgil asked, pulling the blade of his scythe out of the ground. “He just asked a simple question.” 
As Roman glared and growled in Virgil’s direction, Logan gave Thomas the clear response that he needed. 
“It did start out as a simple sparring match. I had beaten Patton and Roman had beaten Virgil, so the two of us were up and I almost had the match won when Roman said, and I quote, ‘How could a wimp like you have beaten Patton? Lightning isn’t a real element, anyways,’ to which I responded by saying that I didn’t need elements to beat a pretty boy like him and he made the first attack.”
“He deserved it!” Roman snapped. “I was clearly just joking around and just because he’s not nearly as pretty as I am-”
“Guys!” Patton whined. “If you two keep fighting like this every time we train, how can we ever think of beating any bad guys?”
“Patton’s right, you guys,” Thomas pointed out, releasing his grip on the two. “How can you expect to work as a team when you can’t even train together?”
Logan and Roman sighed and glanced at each other before looking back at Thomas apologetically. 
“We got carried away..” Roman muttered. “We’re both at fault and we’ll both try not to let it happen again.” 
“I don’t need Roman to speak for me, but I do agree,” Logan reluctantly added. 
Thomas sighed and opened his mouth to speak once more, interrupted by the radio that the boys kept on. 
“We interrupt this broadcast with an emergency message. People of Edis Village are warned to stay inside after the sighting of some sort of thug disguised as a serpentine.”
Roman scoffed. “The same kind our parents used to warn us about in fairy tales?”
“The exact same threat that children are told about in fairy tales!” 
“You guys should go check it out,” Thomas said. “Never put off for tomorrow what can be done today.”
“It’s probably just some kid scaring the town, surely the police can handle it. We need to train,” Logan argued. 
“Thomas is our teacher.. I think we should at least check it out, since he told us,” Patton added, going to yank his shuriken back out from where Logan threw it at the wooden beam. “Besides, if it really is just some kid, it shouldn’t take us too long.” 
Virgil nodded. “Patton’s right. We go check it out, then we train.” 
“Fine,” Logan grumbled. 
“Let’s make this quick,” Roman sighed as he picked up his discarded sword. 
It was a fairly short trip down to the village and an even shorter time was spent finding the source of their troubles. 
Over the radio, the kid was described to be around their age with half of his face was seemingly painted with scales. He’d even went so far as to give himself as snake-like eye, but he hadn’t bothered changing out of the pajamas that the others identified him by: a simple yellow shirt and black sweat pants.
“Excuse me,” Roman demanded, stepping in front of his team. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?” 
The disguised teen, facing away from the four, groaned and slumped forward a bit, seemingly irritated. “What? Are you here to chase me out too? I just wanted some food, now leave me-” The second the kid turned around, he froze in fear, the same way anybody would if they saw someone carrying a flaming sword or a sparking pair of nunchucks. 
Easily the least threatening, Patton stepped in front of Roman to speak to the boy. “Listen, we don’t want to hurt you, but- Hey!” the icy ninja exclaimed as the kid ran off, leading the chase through the village paths. 
With every passing step, the kid seemed to grow a bit faster, almost losing the ninja a few times until he finally cornered himself, staring back at the group with rage. “I’ve done nothing! Just let me go and-”
Patton threw a shuriken near the kid’s feet and smiled as he was incased in ice from the neck down. “And you’re under arrest.” 
The kid was silent as the four dragged him and his icy prison to jail and stayed that way even as he was put in a cell, almost seeming unbothered by the situation. 
“I knew that would be easy!” Patton cheered as they walked back towards their monastery, spinning his shurikens in his hands. 
“Well, yeah, it was just some kid who thought it’d be smart to celebrate Halloween early,” Virgil sneered, rolling his eyes. 
“An enemy is an enemy,” Roman pointed out as they entered the monastery. 
“And what did you learn from this enemy?” Thomas asked, waiting behind the entrance. 
Logan shrugged. “It was a minor threat, as we thought. Just a kid who wanted to scare some people.” 
“He was probably trying to scare himself some free pizza,” Roman added. “He said something about wanting food before he saw us.” 
Thomas furrowed his eyebrows. “Sounds a bit odd. What else did he say?”
Logan shrugged. “As most trouble makers in his situation would, he asked to be let go.”
“Hm.. Well... It sounds like he shouldn’t be a problem anymore. I guess that’s what matters,” Thomas said as he lead the four back inside. “For now, it’s back to training.”
And train they did, but there was a thought looming in the back of all of their minds as the day went on and even as it came to a close. 
What did that kid really want? 
The next morning could not have come fast enough, Patton being the first two awake to cook. He hummed along to his music as he stirred the pancake batter, figuring it was okay for his team to have a treat of blueberry pancakes after their small victory the day before. Patton made quick work of pouring the batter and serving them onto plates, giving everyone more than enough so they could keep up their strength for the day. As he plated the last ones, though, his music was interrupted by some news. 
“We interrupt this broadcast with an emergency message. A prisoner captured yesterday in Edis Village has escaped and is nowhere to be found. The suspect was last seen wearing a yellow shirt, black pants, and with scales painted over half of his face. Anybody who sees this young man should take great caution and call the police station immediately.”
“Guys!” Patton yelled as he ran over to their large, shared bedroom. “Guys, wake up! That kid from yesterday escaped!” He rummaged through his clothes and pulled out his ninja uniform, quickly changing. 
“We put him in prison, Patton, how could he have escaped?” Roman muttered. 
“Yeah, someone probably just saw something that looked like him or whatever,” Virgil added, pulling his pillow over his head. 
“No, they described exactly him! They said he escaped from his prison cell!”
Confused, but alert, the other three jumped out of bed and got dressed, following Patton back down to the village and running towards what sounded like screams. 
When they reached its source, they did indeed find the kid from before running out of a shop with a sack over his back. 
“Hey, stop!” Roman cried out as he and Virgil began the chase, Patton and Logan staying behind to find out what happened. 
“He just came in and started loading his bag with food,” the shopkeeper told them. “Then he reached into his pockets, he must have had some sort of weapon on him!” 
“We’ll make sure you get paid for everything he took,” Patton promised with an ironically warm smile. 
“I don’t care about that.. I’m just glad nobody was hurt.”  
Roman and Virgil chased the kid out of the village into the nearby woods, wanting to get him away from the people, but also wanting to get back whatever he stole. But as dense as those trees were, it wasn’t long before they both lost sight of him, even with how much the yellow stood out against the trees. 
“Did you see where he turned?” Roman asked as he slowed to a stop. 
“No.. Dang it! We almost had him, too,” Virgil said, dropping his arms and his scythe to his sides. 
“At least he’s out of town.. Hopefully, he won’t be terrorizing anybody anymore, knowing that we’re around.”
“Hopefully..” Virgil muttered as the two began the trek back to the village. 
Far above their heads, a certain teenager pulled an apple from his bag, moaning as the taste hit his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate something so sweet and he knew it’d probably be the last time before he’d have something like that again, but he did have a long day. And, after pulling those cell bars open, he had to regain his strength somehow. At least he got to keep his money.
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