#i kind of assume they're going through something & leave that alone. not to be like condescending or whatever that just seems painful | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dragon-kazansky · 7 months ago

Text

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Two - Take my hand

☆☆☆

It was starting to get light outside. Alex had left you locked in your room all night. You could hear voices outside your door, but you didn't care to even try and listen in.

Since your father died, Alex had become a stranger to you. He was nothing like the boy you once knew.

You're not sure exactly how much time had passed. You had resulted in laying on your bedroom floor listening to the mumbled voices and the footsteps, as well as thinking about the man in the basement.

The way he looked at you. It was like he knew you. The man from your dreams...

You hadn't fallen asleep at all, so you had no idea if you were still able to dream of him. You wanted to know why you were dreaming of him.

There was so much you didn't understand.

Eventually, the door to your room opened. You looked up with tired eyes to see Alex coming into the room. You summoned what energy you had to push yourself up into a sitting position.

Alex closed the door behind him and leant against it. He looked down at you with an expression you couldn't read. You could see his frown clearly, though.

"Come to scold me?" You ask quietly.

Alex doesn't say anything for a while. He just stares at you. He then lets out a huge sigh.

"You shouldn't have gone down there."

"Who is he?" You ask.

Alex stares at you.

"Who is he?" You ask again, demanding an answer.

"Some kind of Dream Lord."

"Dream Lord?" You look at him curiously. You can tell Alex doesn't want to answer. "Why is he trapped in out basement?"

"Because father failed to trap Death. They're siblings or something... Look, I don't know the details, but we can't let him out. He could hurt everyone."

"Hurt everyone? I assume he'll only hurt those who have kept him prisoner. He didn't look like he wanted to hurt me."

"He couldn't. There's a difference. He needs to stay down there." Alex speaks firmly.

"Who put you in charge?" You ask, glading at him.

Alex clenches his jaw and pushes off the door. He grabs the doorknob and looks at you again. "Do not ever go down there again."

He leaves you alone once more.

☆☆☆

Security in the house doubled. The basement was never unattended. Any time you moved around the house, you were constantly being watched. You were never able to get down into the basement again.

Something had changed in you.

Alex had gone mad with anger when he realised.

You had stopped aging.

While everyone else in the house grew older as the years began to pass, you didn't. By your 30th birthday, you had stopped ageing. Alex had gone down into the basement one night and demanded to know what the Dream Lord had done to you.

Morpheus never uttered a word to him.

That angered Alex even more.

"You will never get out of here."

Morpheus watched him go in silence. Angry didn't quite cover how he felt. He was already planning his revenge for being trapped so long, but if you've been hurt in process too, Dream had no intention of showing mercy.

☆☆☆

Too much time had passed, and you hadn't aged a day. Alex couldn't stand it. He was getting old. He now looked much older than you. It wasn't normal.

Alex had celebrated his 70th birthday party.

You had not been permitted to attend, not that you would have wanted to if you had. Alex had kept you locked in his room. Only he and Paul could enter your room.

He didn't want anyone to see you.

You weren't even allowed into the garden. The most fresh air you got was through your window, which only opened a little bit. Your life had been the worst it had ever been.

Still, every night, you dreamt of the Dream Lord. However, the dreams had changed slightly. It felt like he was looking right at you in them now. Like he could see you.

Many mornings, you have woken up, heart racing.

If he was a dream lord, then surely could sense your dreams. Him being trapped is what made dreaming so rare.

You look down at the scar on your wrist. It healed itself, but every so often, you could feel the burn. When it bothered you, you would cover it gently and press down on it. The burning would subside. You were certain it had something to do with him and that he could feel you through it... Or you could just be making things up to cope with the fact you were also a prisoner in this house now.

Alex stares at your door. Paul had been pushing him in his wheelchair toward the basement when he asked to stop a moment. Very few people knew of you and your "condition," as Alex called it.

He was going to go down into that basement one final time. He swore this would be the last time. He was going to attempt to bargain with the thing down there again.

Alex refused to acknowledge him as anything other than a thing. Not after everything that's happened in this house.

Rodrick, Ethel, you.

"Let's go." He says firmly. Paul pushes him the rest of the way to the basement. Alex had checked his pocket for the key to your room. It was there. Good.

You could hear them leave through your door. You wait until it goes quiet, and then you hear another set of footsteps. You smile. You knew Alex was going down to visit the man from your dreams again.

Alex underestimated you, or perhaps he was just neglectful in his old age. Despite being confined to your room, you could hear an awful lot. Be it from conversations taking place just beyond your door or words spoken in the garden within earshot of your open window.

He also underestimated some of his guards. How easy they were to bribe. As long as they got paid, they would do anything. The master key to the house was kept in the office. Alex never locked the office. His first mistake. His second was giving the guards access to the entire house. The third was thinking you were harmless in your room.

A trade. Money, which you still had access to, for the key to your room.

That exact key slid under your door, and you slide the money through. You hear the guard walk away, and you pick up the key.

You're careful as you unlock the door and poke your head out. Just because some of the staff can be bribed doesn't mean that some aren't loyal to Alex.

Some of them pitied the woman Alex kept locked away in her room.

Down in the basement, Alex stared at the strange man who had been down here since he was a boy. This was the last time he would come down here.

"I could have asked you for wealth or power, like my father did. But all I ever wanted was for my sister and I to be free of you."

Dream stated at him silently.

"Surely you want that too."

Dream remains silent. All he can think about is what he would do if he could get out. How can he get to you? You deserve better than this family.

"Alex, darling, please." Paul pleads.

Alex sits back down in his wheelchair, but before he lets Paul take him away, he turns back to Dream. Morpheus only follows his movements with his eyes.

"She stopped ageing. That was your doing, right? That day my sister came down here, you did something, didn't you?"

Dream does not reply per usual, but his brows do crease together slightly.

"Leave her alone. That's all I ask of you now. I won't be coming down here again."

The circle that kept Dream trapped had been broken by the wheel of the wheelchair. Paul glanced at it but said nothing. The two men left.

You waited for the opportunity. You would need to wait for Alex to go to bed before you went anywhere. There was also the issue of the guards down in the basement.

You hadn't thought that far ahead, but yo were determined to see that man again. You had questions that you couldn't wait to ask anymore. Alex wasn't going to answer them, so you had to ask him.

You didn't have much time to come up with a plan, but as it would turn out, you wouldn't need one. Not exactly.

Alex had gone to bed. You were certain of it. With your key in hand, you unlocked your door and poked your head out. You heard foot disappearing at the end of the hall but saw no one else. You step out and close your door behind you.

You're about to make your way down the hall when the sound of gunshots echoes from the basement. The sound is so loud that you're certain everyone can hear it.

You hear voices behind you and run for it, putting in the code for the door you had memorised and disappear down into the basement. You come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.

One guard had his gun raised at the sphere, which had now shattered. The other guard was trying to calm the other, but she soon stopped when the man inside the sphere stepped out.

He was tall. Very slender. Pale. Handsome.

His eyes had locked onto yours. You felt like the air had once again been stolen from your lungs. You stare at him as a portal opens up beside him.

You're afraid.

He stands there, harsh wind whipping at him from the portal, his hand raised out toward you. He doesn't utter a single word, but you understand.

You don't, can't, move.

He lowers his hand and turns to the portal. He leaves.

You gasp softly, finding yourself able to breathe again. Whatever power he seems to have over you, it feels almost suffocating. You doubt you'll see him again, but your scar burns and you have to wonder.

☆☆☆

You had retreated back to your room before anyone realised who you were or what you were doing down there. You had been unable to sleep.

The house has been the most awake you have ever heard it. Paul had called loudly for a doctor. Guards had been running back and forth constantly through early hours of the morning.

You had kept to yourself in your room. By the time the sun came up, your door was unlocked and opened. Paul was standing in your doorway. You sat up on your bed and looked at him.

He had definitely looked better.

"He's gone."

You stare at him. "Who?"

You knew who.

"The man. He's gone. Alex is... he won't wake up..."

You feel something heavy in your stomach. Alex wouldn't wake up? That sounded like that sickness people had. Did the man do that?

"I... I know what to do."

You let the silence hang between you both. What could you say? You used to like Alex when you were children, but after Rodrick died, he became just the same.

"Look, I know you didn't like him for keeping you locked up in here, but look at you. You're not... normal. The man did something to you."

"He didn't do anything," you defended him. Despite knowing nothing about him, you chose to defend him.

"He must have. Can you even die...? Something happened to you. Magic, or something."

You scoffed.

"I'm not going to ask you to leave. You can stay here. I won't even lock the door anymore."

"How kind of you," you say dryly.

Paul realised this wasn't going anywhere. He had told you what happened and that was it. Paul closes the door behind him but doesn't lock it. He leaves you alone.

You let go of your tough front and feel the tears fall gently. You wipe at your cheeks and curl up on your bed.

Now, what are you supposed to do? You have nowhere else to go. No one to rely on. Not even your dream man.

You were alone.

☆☆☆

@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker

@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic

@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @thescarletwitchjobro - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda

@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 -

#heart of the Dreaming #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman #soulmate au #dragon writes

382 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 9 days ago

Note

if you don't mind me sending yet another personal questions on anon... i'm in my mid-20s, single, and pro-abortion because i'd rather fetuses not be born rather than abandoned or died of hunger or stunted from malnutrition. i'm from a third-world country so it's very common here and it's very sad to me. i'm not exactly poor though, more like middle class, i guess?

recently my coworkers talked about getting married and having children. one of them said "i've seen old people without children and no one takes care of them. also, an old person's happiness is mostly from watching their children grow up. that can never be replaced with anything." it sounds a little bit weird to me, but i'm not sure if it's because i'm single and have never looked up about parenting and children before, so i asked "but isn't it selfish to give life to children because you want someone to take care of you/you don't want to die alone? and aren't there other sources of happiness?" they reiterated that watching your children grow up is a different kind of happiness and that "having someone to take care of you is not the main goal, but it's gained anyways" but the way they said it sounds like it's the main goal to me because they don't state any other goals like "i want a footballer kid" or "i want a kid to take them on trips" or even "to continue the bloodline in the name of evolution". i honestly don't really get it.

i mean, they're free to think whatever they want as long as they don't abandon their children, but it brings me to a dilemma. i'm scared of dying alone and missing out on watching my own children grow up. but also, i don't think i'm ready to have children due to my mental capacity and lack of parenting skills. i'm scared of being selfish; what if my child turns out unhappy and depressed like me? what even is MY main goal? i have so many that i want to do, like travelling around the world, but eventually all my goals will be fulfilled and i'll have spare money, but i'll be less mobile when i grow up, and being pregnant is more dangerous as you grow older.

i'm still single so i think i have time to think about it, but it creeps on me like a ticking timer. since you and some of your readers are older and have probably went through this dilemma, what do you think? what even brought you to the point where you're set on having/not having children?

Yes, people are absolute morons about children.

In the context of the US, we have shit health care and a shameful dearth of ways to care for our elderly, disabled, or terminally ill. Most of the work falls to family. It is absolutely true that people with kids have a better shot of reasonable end of life care...

However, that's going to depend on where you live, and you could easily end up estranged from your kids or your kid could get hit by a bus or something. Treating something as major as parenthood as a guarantee of in-home nursing is fucking stupid in any country.

Different kind of happiness, my ass.

I'm happy I managed to have a kid after leaving it pretty late. My baby is delightful. I still don't see how this is that different from a best friend or a hobby. I think a lot of people are just boring and have no idea how to be rabidly passionate about their hobbies. They also have no idea how to build emotional intimacy. If they can't make a bff who'd nurse them through cancer, they probably can't instill those feelings in their kid either.

Most people find conception just fine up through the mid 30s. Late 30s even. I had to do IVF because I waited into my 40s. The pregnancy was still fine. The birth sucked because I didn't yell at the hospital staff forcefully enough or have a good enough advocate with me, but it still turned out okay. The medical part should be a relatively small part of your calculation unless you have reason to think the local medical system will make pregnancy particularly dangerous.

For me... I'd always assumed I'd have one. I didn't find the right partner, but I did run out of time. I pictured what my life would look like in five years with a kid. What would we be doing together? And I liked that picture, so I went for it.

One thing that helped a lot was that my mother was perpetually too busy running a business but did genuinely care. She left me alone to pursue my own hobbies a lot and did not hover because she was always doing ten thousand things, including her own stack of hobbies.

Most parenting content is about as pleasant as cleaning out a latrine. It's all full of "Do these seventy-two things every single morning or you're a Bad Mother™" and pretending like kids need your overbearing personality squashing them 24/7.

I like to joke "Well, you have to know which end goes up, and you have to feed them occasionally."

Thousands of years of imperfect people did manage not to drop the baby on its head. We even have vaccines now. You would be fine.

Also, my mother absolutely did drag me around the world when I was little. She got a chance to go visit Indonesia with a gamelan she used to play with when I was four and a half, so off we went. I had to completely change how I ate because it was all random homestays in the mid 80s, and the food they had was the food they had. Mom didn't think twice about this.

The biggest parenting error people make—not just personal happiness error but child emotional health error—is stopping living their lives because kids somehow need some bullshit normie fantasy of staying home forever and doing nothing interesting. You need to make a lot of time to do things with the kid, but those can be the things you actually like, not shit from a canned list of child appropriate activities.

If you are never "selfish", you will only teach your child that they cannot have both a kid of their own and a life.

Children need consistency, but that consistency is you caring about them and being around, not you giving up ever having personal time or interests.

113 notes · View notes

avonne-writes · 2 months ago

Note

“how embarrassing would it be if i told you i’d dreamt of this since i first met you?” is so clegan <3

Thank you 🥰 The drabble is set in my a/b/o au where Gale is an omega who doesn’t have normal heats due to childhood trauma.

Edit: you can consider this set in the same universe as @anachilles's lovely smutty one-shot ❤️‍🔥

If there's one thing that Bucky learned in the ten years since his first time in bed with an omega, it’s that you'd better talk about what you want before you pop your knot rather than regret the whole fucking thing when you wake up alone again. His previous partners never seemed to care to linger once he had given them that satisfaction. Not that he blames or resents them for it - it’s his own damn fault that he came across as an omega-chaser, just a fun partner for the night, instead of an alpha longing for a mate.

Don’t make this out to be more than what it is, they said if he caught them before they slipped away. You're a sweet man, but I can’t stay. Countless versions of the same story, leaving Bucky sitting alone with his head in his hands and his heart hollow again.

But not this time. No, with Gale, he’s determined to do it right. He courted him the way he deserved, with all the gifts and love and care Bucky could heap on him without drawing the kind of attention Gale didn’t want. No throwing himself at Gale’s feet in the barracks, no sweet talking in public, no jealous outbursts even if it killed him. It was all in the small details with Gale, and in the unwavering devotion he craved. Grand gestures didn’t appeal to him, no matter how Bucky's instincts urged him to belt it out for all the world to know that he’d do anything for his Buck. His best friend, his beautiful mate.

Well, all right, they’re not mated yet. But they’re going to be. Bucky can feel the warm certainty of it deep in his chest, spreading through his veins with every swipe of Gale's thumb over the juncture of his neck as they kiss lying on top of each other in the hotel bed they rented for the night. Would Gale touch him like this if he didn’t want it too? No, Bucky doesn’t think so.

He draws back just far enough to look into Gale's eyes and comb through his short blond hair. When he shifts his hips to the side, Gale’s slim thighs part to let him sink between them, a perfect fit. "Are you comfortable?”

Gale nods, watching Bucky's face with lazy affection. He slides both of his hands down Bucky’s back and untucks Bucky's shirt to get to the bare skin of his lower back.

"Tell me if I'm too heavy.”

"Don’t start on this now." Gale drawls, the contentment in his tone at odds with his words. He pushes his hands between their stomachs to undo their belts. He smells happy, his scent heady like the warmth of the sun on a humid summer afternoon.

They kiss again, grinding together slowly. John wonders if Gale's all wet for him already or if he needs some help - he’d gladly put his mouth to use. But first, they need to talk.

"Can I ask you something?" He starts. They're so close that he sees the flash of concern in Gale's eyes and feels the minute tightening of the cradle of his thighs.

"You’re a good alpha, John." Gale says quietly, stroking John's face with his right hand. "I'll let you knot me tonight if you want.”

John can’t help the way his lips purse at the answer given before he could even ask anything. He doesn’t know why Gale assumes that's all he’s after, when he has done everything he could to show that he isn’t.

"It’s not what I want." He says, a touch too firmly, if Gale's startled blink is anything to go by. "I want to mate you." He clears his throat, reining the emotion in his voice back. "That’s what I wanted to ask. I want to be your mate.”

Out of all the ways this played out in his head, Gale pulling away from him was one of the worst. Cracks cut sharply into his heart as Gale pushes at his shoulders, then sits back against the headboard. Bucky ends up kneeling beside him on the mattress, a pleading look in his eyes. The change in Gale's scent feels sharp in his nose, but it's not acrid like disgust or fear. It’s sour distress, deeply pained. The way Gale pulls his knees up to rest his arms on them makes him look achingly young.

“Why?” He asks. The disbelief in his eyes hurts.

“Because I love you.” When Gale closes his eyes, Bucky presses on. “I love you. I want to be yours. To take care of you, protect you… I want to be your mate. And I want to do it before we ship out.”

Gale worries at his lip, then gives Bucky a look full of tumultuous emotions.

"That’s not something you should do on a whim." He tells Bucky. His voice is calm, but he’s digging his own nails into his arm. "Think it through carefully. You know I don't have normal heats. I don't think I can get pregnant, John. It’s the way it's always been. Ain't ever gonna change. I'm not the kind of omega you deserve. I don't mind if we -"

He cuts himself off. A soft "damn it" gets caught in his suddenly tight throat. He rubs the bridge of his nose as if to keep his tears in, then shoots Bucky a wry smile. "I don't mind if it’s just sex and nothing more.”

The noise that escapes Bucky's throat is filled with helpless frustration. He scoots closer and cups Gale’s cheek with his right hand. "To hell with sex, Buck! It’s not what I want. I would rather not knot anyone ever again if that's the only way I can be your mate.”

For a moment, Gale doesn’t say anything, just searches Bucky's eyes, then his scent starts changing again, becoming gradually sweeter with hope. Something eases in Bucky too in response, and he lets his body lean forward until his forehead is pressed to Gale's. When he gives Gale a soft kiss on the lips, Gale slides his arms off his knees to wrap them around Bucky’s neck.

“You actually mean it.” Gale says quietly. There’s still some uncertainty in his voice, but there’s growing hope too.

“I do.” Bucky replies. Then, because he can’t keep holding it all bottled up anymore, “Please be my mate, doll. I'll be so good for you, the best alpha you can ask for, I’ll take care of you -”

“Shh.” Gale shushes him with a small chuckle, pulling Bucky’s head to his neck to let him scent Gale there and lick at the spot he’s going to bite if Gale says yes. Soothing fingers comb through his hair, and Gale’s thumb presses to the base of his neck again. It’s so calming that Bucky could fall asleep just like this in Gale's arms.

“How about -” Gale starts, stroking Bucky’s back now. “- we wait until the morning. If you still want it when we wake up, then… we can do it.”

Bucky lifts his head to look at Gale with wide eyes and the wobbling beginning of a grin. “Is that a yes?”

The curve of Gale's cheeks turns rounder as he smiles. “It is.”

Bucky crows in joy and tackles Gale sideways on the mattress, trying to kiss him through a happy laugh and babbling the first thing that comes to Bucky's mind. “How embarrassing would it be if I told you I'd dreamt of this since I first met you?”

Gale hugs him tight and nips his neck. “Is that why you gave me your own goddamn name?”

Feverish with happiness, Bucky nips Gale back, shuddering at the thought that tomorrow, he'll get to bite him for real. “Had to claim you.”

“Possessive.” Gale hums, his linden blossom scent intoxicating to Bucky's nose.

Bucky’s love thrums in his chest like a song. “You love it, Buck.”

Gale laughs. He doesn’t deny it.

#mota #buck x bucky #gale cleven #john egan #clegan #anon #my writing #prompt fill #abo hc #omega!gale

83 notes · View notes

ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds · 6 months ago

Text

Needles and Pins

Trouble saunters up to your workplace in a gas station in the middle of Nowhere Special, Southern U.S.A. Night after night, it comes armed with a charming smile and bared teeth. And despite knowing full well it's a bad idea, you just can't keep yourself from being lured in.

Rating: Explicit, NSFW 🔞 Fandom(s): Near Dark 1987, Abigail 2024 Pairing: Severen x AFAB!Reader x Frank/Adam Barrett Word count: 9.8K Content warnings: Canon divergence, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dubcon, vampires, alcohol consumption, manipulation, hypnotism, physical assault, biting, blood drinking, making out, brief gun violence, reader makes some dumb decisions because of hypnotism and/or blood loss, threesome, grinding, blood kink, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, handjobs, implied reader death, reader is AFAB but gender neutral AO3 Link: Here

Author's Note: Ohhhh baby this idea's been blooming since I saw a gifset comparing Near Dark's Severen and Abigail's Frank. They're so alike but so different it's insane, and the idea of getting tag-teamed by them was too fucking good to pass up. Plus it's Multi-May, an event run by my lovely friend @bisexual-horror-fan, so I figured - why not? Hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

It didn’t occur to you that the harbinger of your little town’s demise would be an old RV that was one pothole away from shuddering itself to pieces. You’d seen plenty of them over the years. Most folks who weren’t local were just passing through on their way elsewhere – stopping for the night to stretch their legs, to sleep, to grab gas or a drink or a pack of cigarettes, whatever. It’s just how it was living in a snoozy little town not far from a major highway. Plenty of people stopped for a while, but few ever lingered. So it was strange when they did. It made you suspicious.

But on the surface, there’d been nothing to suspect.

You’d been at the gas station counter just past midnight, scrolling through your phone, when they’d pulled up in a dirty RV that had to be decades old. A family of five. Had come from some other part of the South, judging by their accents. Three of them had come inside – an older man, a woman who seemed to be his partner despite being about twenty years younger, and a young boy you assumed was their son. The man had been the one to speak to you. He was perfectly polite, friendly, charming even. He’d introduced himself as Jesse. He and his family were roadtripping across the U.S. and had stopped to get gas, stretch their legs, and spend a couple days not cramped inside an RV.

You’d nodded politely as he’d spoken. Had rung up the gas and a couple magazines the kid had grabbed – none of the brightly colored kiddie ones. You hadn’t commented on it, kept your face as pleasantly friendly and neutral as possible. When Jesse has asked if there was a motel in this town, you’d given him directions. They’d paid in cash and left. And you hadn’t thought much of it, because it was the kind of story you’d heard about a hundred times. They’d stay for a couple days, realize there was fuckall to do here outside of sitting in a bar or sitting in a church or going to the grocery store, and they’d leave.

So what if their stares, hard and intense and glimmering with an unfathomable something, piercing like they could see through your skin to the veins and muscle and bone beneath, had lingered in your mind for the rest of your shift? So what if the kid glared at you with a simmering hostility and a calculatedness that felt distinctly wrong? So what if something in the back of your mind told you something wasn’t right about them?

You’d met plenty of folks passing by in this job. You’d met plenty of the friendly kind, and a few of the shadier kind. And you’d made a habit of listening to your gut when something felt off. Someone like you working largely alone in the dead of night couldn’t exactly take chances. So you paid attention to that prickle on the back of your neck, that curling unease in your stomach.

But the kid…. they were a family with a little boy. You’d brushed the unease off and gone back to scrolling through your phone to pass the time.

Then they’d come back around the next night, again past midnight. This time it was the kid and the two who’d stayed outside – a blond haired girl and a man wearing sunglasses, a leather jacket, and the kind of grin that set you on edge as soon as you saw it.

“Hey there.” You said the words with calm friendliness. “Can I help y’all?”

“I’m sure you can.” The man swaggered up to the counter with the confidence of someone who owned the place. You resisted the urge to cringe away.

You weren’t exactly the type to scare easy. What was wrong with you?

The girl and the kid were wandering, eyeballing shelves of candy and snacks without touching anything. They were siblings, maybe. Both blond like the woman from yesterday. Not like Sunglasses. He looked closer in age to –

Your attention snapped back to him as he stopped in front of you and propped an elbow against the counter. “What kind of ah…. fun do y’all get up to here? Got any bars, clubs…” His gaze flitted up and down your body. “….Strip clubs? Or is this more of a ‘grannies at town hall’ kinda place?”

You schooled your features back to neutrality despite the rising discomfort in your chest. “No clubs, adult or otherwise. Sorry.” You weren’t really. “There is a bar, though. It’s just down the road from the motel, actually. Surprised you didn’t see it earlier.”

“Well, yknow how it is. Kiddie-winkies keepin us busy n all that.” Sunglasses gave a vague wave toward said kids. The boy shot him a look of cold fury, while the girl seemed engrossed in reading the label on a packet of Nerds.

You gave him an obligatory nod. “Sure.”

The man studied you for a moment. After a beat of uncomfortable silence, he tipped his head and pulled off the sunglasses, then studied you again. His eyes were blue.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to show me round town, would ya?”

You blinked at the whiplash of this family’s oddness and Sunglasses now apparently coming onto you. Because that’s only what he could be doing. Ladies-man type. Alright. Sure. Not the first time it had happened.

“I don’t get off till seven a.m.,” you said apologetically. You’ll probably be gone by then, and I’ll be heading home to pass the fuck out, you didn’t say.

“Aw. Shame.” He tilted his head, eyed you up and down again. Like you were a strange little puzzle to figure out. Or a particularly interesting piece of meat. His smile turned cheeky and, if you were being honest, just a little bit strangely charming. “Don’t suppose I can convince you to skip the rest of your shift?”

Well. The idea was certainly tempting. “Not if I wanna pay the bills,” you answered instead.

He nodded and made a little hum. “Right. No mercy for the lil guy, huh? Well.” He straightened, flicking his sunglasses back on. The grin was sharp and feral again, and it poked at some ancient prey animal instinct far in the back of your brain. “Thanks for the directions, sugar. See ya round.”

And then they were gone.

You really hoped the kids hadn’t pocketed anything while you were distracted.

They were still in town days later, long after you’d expected them to leave. You only ever saw them at night, and even then, it was glimpses. Maybe that should’ve been strange to you, but you were something of a nocturnal creature yourself. Sleep all day, wake in the afternoon, work the night shift, come back home as the sun was rising and pass out soon after. Maybe they worked the night shift too, whatever it is they did. Though that didn’t explain the kids’ sleep schedule. It occurred to you that they should’ve been in school but hey, maybe they were homeschooled. It wasn’t your business. Maybe it should’ve set off alarm bells, but you knew better than to stick your nose where it didn’t belong.

But apparently Sunglasses had never learned that.

You’d been intending to grab some groceries and take them back home before your shift, but as soon as you stepped up the curb to head into the Harris Teeter, someone called your name and on instinct you turned around. And were met with a familiar face.

“Fancy meeting you here!” Sunglasses sidled up to you but notably didn’t make any physical contact. Points for that, you supposed.

“Well,” you said dryly, “I do live here.” You weren’t on the clock and didn’t have to have your customer service face on. You were free to say what you like, leave any time you like.

“Really? Thought you mighta been stuck haunting that place.”

“Stuck haunting a twenty-year-old gas station in this town? No fucking thanks. I’d rather drink myself to death,” you scoffed.

A delighted look sprang across Sunglasses’s face. “Sounds like a plan to me! How bout it? I’ll buy you a drink.”

Whoa whoa whoa, wait. You mentally backpeddled. “No – that’s not what – I have stuff I need to do before I clock in–” You weren’t exactly eager to get to work early, but neither were you eager to let a strange man buy you a drink.

“Aw, c’mon now.” He took off those sunglasses and met your gaze. “Just one drink. It’ll be quick.”

….He was pretty good-looking. He was the posterboy of tall dark and handsome, with the pale blue eyes, mussed black hair, and jawline. The leather and chunky rings gave a rougher edge to that prettiness. And there was something else about him – an erraticness, an unpredictableness, that was as enticing as it was unnerving. And really, how many other guys had tried to come onto you before, invasive and unappealing? How many of them had actually been truly tempting? Exactly none of them. And now that a guy like this, strange as he was, showed up and offered you a drink, were you really about to say no, even when you wanted to say yes, deep down? Were you really about to shoot down the only decent chance you’d gotten in this middle of nowhere Southern hell?

“Alright.” It just slipped out. It slipped out so easily it startled you.

Why would you say yes like that?

“Alright!” The man threw an arm around you and tugged you away from the grocery store parking lot – and towards the bar on the other side of the road. The bar you’d pointed out to him just days before.

Your head whirled. What the fuck? Why did you say yes? What had possibly compelled you to say yes to this stranger?

“I don’t. I don’t even know your name,” you stuttered.

His grin turned cheeky as he glanced down at you. “Severen. Feel free to wear it out much as you like.”

It was an astronomically bad idea to get involved with a total stranger. A total stranger whose smile gave you bad vibes. A total stranger who’d probably be leaving within a couple days. A total stranger who’d been so very eager to have your attention. There were red flags. He probably wasn’t involved in some drug or sex trafficking scheme, but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him. Severen. You wondered if that was the name he’d been given, or if it was something he’d chosen himself for the punk-cowboy thing he had going on.

And yet, despite your reservations, here you were. You weren’t usually so swayed by a pretty face, but something about those blue eyes had compelled you to say yes. And against all odds..... you were enjoying yourself.

Severen was engaging, to say the least. Intense. Energetic. Constantly in motion, even when he was sitting – moving his arms and hands animatedly as he spoke, bouncing his leg, fiddling with his sunglasses or his un-drunk glass of alcohol.

The longer you sat there and listened to him – the more you stared at him – the more you found yourself loosening your grip on caution. The more your reservations wilted away. You couldn’t even blame your drink, since there was no alcohol in it. He was just…. kind of fascinating. And energetic. He made you laugh. And despite your earlier misgivings, he was kind of sweet. He told you about his family. Apparently Jesse and Diamondback, the blond woman, had found him at a low point in his life and taken him in, provided him with food and shelter and company he hadn’t had in a long time. And they’d done the same with the two kids, Mae and Homer. They were a patched-up family who stuck together and took care of each other when no one else did. It was sweet. It brushed against something lonely and untouched in your heart. To have that kind of family, that kind of reliability…. you shoved down the pang of sheer want it stirred up.

You could not start wanting and getting attached like that. Not when they were just passing through.

Still. You couldn’t stop meeting his gaze. You quickly stopped minding how often his arm brushed against yours. And you very quickly started to idly wonder if there was room for a sixth in that beat up RV.

When your phone alarm pinged at 10:30 p.m., you didn’t want to leave the comfort of the bar and Severen’s scorching attention. You could hear the reluctance in your own voice as you said, “I should head to work.” But God, you didn’t want to. You almost hoped he’d ask you to skip out on your shift, like he had last time. You weren’t sure you’d be able to say no.

But instead he just fixed you with a smirk and said, “Prolly.” He waved you off as you reached for your wallet. “Don’t worry bout it, sugar. Drink’s on me.”

You hesitated. “Well. Thanks. This was actually really nice.” Please give me a reason to stay.

“Course.” His gaze flicked away from yours, down your figure, sizing you up again. Did he see anything different from the first time he’d done that? Did you…. feel something different from the first time?

You forced yourself to say, “See you round.”

“I sure will.”

You left the bar in a haze, as if slipping out of a dream. By the time you were clocking into your shift, reality had fully settled back in and left your body oddly heavy, limbs buzzing with the faint sensation of pins and needles. Doubt had come back in full force. About a dozen questions whirled around your mind all night. What the fuck had you been thinking? Why did you say yes to him? Why did you so desperately want to head back to the bar and find him again?

You kept a wary eye on the door for the entire night. But there wasn’t a single damn sign of life, even if you felt like something was watching you from beyond the bleached lights of the gas station. You were almost relieved as the sun peeked up from the horizon at the end of your shift. As if it would protect you.

As if it would shield you from whatever went bump in the night.

You kept running into Severen. You kept making bad decisions. He would take you to the bar or walk to work with you or come to the gas station and hang around like it wasn’t a public establishment you were supposed to be running. Every time you wanted to tell him to fuck off, every time you wanted to ask why he was still here and why he was stalking you, he’d make eye contact and the words would die on your tongue. He’d draw you in. He’d say something that made you smile or laugh or, God forbid, that made your face warm and your breath come a little too quick. Things were moving far too fast far too soon, and you knew it. Whenever he wasn’t around, you snapped back to reality and promised yourself that he wouldn’t reel you in again. You had to cut him off. Whoever he was, he was trouble. You could sense it. But then he’d pop up again and your resolve would instantly burn away – you’d forget why you wanted him to stop in the first place. He was hypnotizing.

Even now, eight days after they’d first come to town, you just couldn’t bring yourself to care that Severen was perched on the gas station counter, teasing you and making you giggle like a schoolgirl with a crush and completely distracting you from what you should be doing. Which was acting professional while there was a customer. Which you most certainly were not doing. He was making you fucking stupid, and you couldn’t care less.

The customer kept eyeballing you from out the side of his glasses. Embarrassment burned in your stomach. But you just couldn’t drag your attention away from Severen for more than a few seconds.

“Anyways, like I was sayin – Diamondback took one look at this sucker and just bout knocked his block clean off.” He whistled and you jumped when he snapped an arm out, as if punching an invisible attacker. He laughed at your reaction. “Knew from then on never to mess with that bitch.”

“She sounds pretty badass,” you admitted. You wondered what she’d think of you. After the initial meeting with Jesse, you’d spotted her wandering around the town at night, sometimes laughing and with her arm around a young blushing guy who’d moved to town a couple years ago. You wondered about that. Didn’t ask.

“Yeah, she ain’t half bad. Ole snake’s got one helluva bite, that’s for damn sure.” Severen paused, as if considering, then leaned over with a mischievous look. His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “I been told I got a good bite too.”

Oh you could not be thinking about that at the cash register. You ducked your head and furiously looked for something to do with your hands. Severen’s self-satisfied laugh – it was more of a giggle, really – just made your face warm more.

A magazine smacked down against the counter. You snapped your head up. The customer was staring at you with an unamused expression. The slicked-back hair and chain necklace and obvious impatience all just screamed douchebag, as if the words from his mouth didn’t say it loud enough. “If you lovebirds are done – can I check out?” Oh, and a Yank to boot. New York or New Jersey, if the accent was anything to go by.

“Sure thing,” you said with forced niceness.

“These too.” He tossed down a packet of spearmint gum and a bottle of iron pills. You nodded and rung them up.

You didn’t have to look at Severen to know he was sizing the customer up; the dirty look the customer was giving him in return was indication enough. You grit your teeth. Please don’t say anything. Please don’t start a fight. Please don’t –

“Got a problem?” Severen asked. The cheerfulness in his voice felt like the warning rattle of a snake. You sucked a breath in from between your teeth.

“Yeah, actually. Think you can fuckin move?”

For a second, you were certain Severen was going to just tackle him and start a fight then and there. But instead he hopped down from the counter and clapped a hand onto the man’s shoulder. That grin was still fixed on his face, but it was thin and sharp like a razor. “First come first served, Yankee.”

Something like disdain or anger flickered across the customer’s face, but you jumped in before he could say anything. “That’ll be twenty-four dollars and seventy-eight cents.”

The customer’s gaze bounced between you two, something unreadable in his shockingly blue eyes. He gave an annoyed huff, shoved Severen’s hand off, and rifled around his jacket pocket for a wallet. He tossed a twenty and a five down. “Keep the change.”

“Alright. Would you like a receipt?”

“No.”

You shoved the items in a shitty plastic bag and thrust it over the counter to him, accompanying the motion with a blithe smile. “Here you go. Have a nice night.”

“Uh-huh.” He paused before heading out, giving you a weird raised-eyebrow look. “Don’t let the fuckin bed bugs bite.” He said it obnoxiously, knowingly, like it should mean something. Your face heated as you recalled what Severen had whispered in your ear. Fucking asshole.

You waited till he was out of sight to turn your disapproving frown to Severen. The urge to melt and let it go was near overwhelming, but you shoved it aside. “What the fuck was that about?”

“Yankees ain’t got manners, that’s what.” Severen said it dismissively, tossing his head like a dog shaking off flies. Then he sprung over the counter and landed with a jostle of leather and buckles and spurs, and he popped up to full height with an expression that promised nothing good. The same expression he’d been wearing when he first set foot here. You startled back. He followed you.

“Since when do you care about that sort of thing?” Something rung in warning at the back of your mind, even as that fuzzy contentedness that came whenever you looked at Severen tried to smother it. Something was off.

“Aw, don’t be like that. Lookit me.”

Rough fingers curled around your jaw and tilted your head up. As soon as you made eye contact, the warning in your head went silent. The tension in your jaw and your brow and your body unspooled. You went limp, letting Severen herd you against the back wall and cage you in with his arms and his body. His head blocked the sterile glow of the neon lights, casting you in shadow. His breath settled against your lips.

“Now, aren’t you a pretty lil thing?” he murmured, all soft honeyed tones and Southern charm. You would’ve liked to have thought you were immune to that sort of thing, being in this business and all, but your heart hammered so loud in your ears and your throat that you couldn’t think straight. “Thought that since I first saw you. Thought to myself, ‘oh, well I could just eat this lil sweetheart up.’ Wouldn’t I be a lucky man?”

He laid a hand on your chest, just below your throat, fingers curling against your pulse as his thumb caressed your skin. The edge of his mouth twitched up in a smirk. “You scared? Excited?”

Your tongue felt heavy. Everything did, heavy and weightless at the same time. “Yeah,” was all you could get out.

“You weak in the knees for me? Lil heart aflutterin?” The hand at your neck had climbed to join the one at your jaw. He cradled you like something delicate. “You sweet on me?”

You managed a weak laugh. “Y-yeah.” That was one way of putting it. One way to describe whatever the fuck was going on with your body.

He smiled. Brushed his nose against yours. “Good. That’s good.”

“Severen.... please.....” You weren’t quite sure what you were pleading for. What, exactly, you wanted him to do. “Please.”

“Don’t you worry sugar. Imma make you feel real good.”

Lips pressed to yours. Slightly chapped and cool, but firm and relentless, a sweet moving pressure that had your head spinning even more than it already was. His body pinned you to the wall and his fingers tilted your head to the side, moving you how he pleased. He pressed his tongue into your mouth sooner than you would’ve expected. A helpless noise came from your throat. Heat shuddered down your spine. He kissed you deeply, languorously, as if he had an eternity to explore you.

A thought bubbled up from the back of your mind – what if a customer walked in on you? But then Severen was slotting a thigh between your legs and biting at your lower lip and you stopped thinking much at all. Your hands slid under his jacket, racking up his shirt and dipping along the curve of his spine as you explored smooth, cool skin. Or maybe you were just burning so hot that he felt cold in comparison.

You whined when he pulled away, only to sigh in relief when his mouth latched onto your neck. Wet, open-mouthed kisses and scraping teeth and one hand cradling your cheek as you tilted your head away and gave him better access. Fucking Christ he needed to stop being a tease. You squirmed and dragged his hips closer, sliding yourself on his thigh and biting back a sound of pleasure at the friction. One of his hands dropped down to brace your hip. He huffed a laugh against your skin.

“God, please Severen,” you breathed.

He hummed and pressed a kiss to your pulse. His fingers dug into your skin.

And then he bit you.

Not a playful nip. Not a hickey. A full-power clamp of jaws like a dog or an alligator biting down on its prey. Teeth tore through your skin, punctured clean through like you were butter left out in the sun. It knocked the breath right out of you. Pain exploded through your veins. Your body thrashed of its own accord. Your mind screamed awake.

A gunshot rang out. Severen yanked away from you, teeth ripping back out your neck. A cry of pain unlodged from your throat and you stumbled away, sliding down against the wall. Severen swung around and snapped bloody teeth at something beyond your line of sight. “What the FUCK–” Another gunshot. Severen yowled and his body jerked and buckled. He collapsed to the floor. You scrambled away from his body as his words ricocheted in your own mind. What the FUCK....?? Your breath sawed in and out from your chest far too quickly. Your head buzzed.

What the fuck had just happened?

There was the crunching of broken glass – when had one of the window panes been broken? – and a head peeked over the counter. Slicked back hair and glasses and ice blue eyes.

The customer from earlier.

You stared at him with what was probably a panicked, bug-eyed look. He stared back at you. Then his gaze drifted slightly to your left and his eyes darkened. “You’re uh. You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah.” Your voice came out raw. “He bit me.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a bite.”

“Yeah.” Was this really the time or place for this conversation?

You weren’t sure if you’d said that last part out loud, because the man grimaced and leaned over the counter, offering you a hand. You took it and tried not to think about the fact that yours was shaking. He yanked you up with ease then helped you clamber over the counter. There was a pistol in his other hand.

Your head swam.

“We should, uh, get you out of here.” The man shoved the gun into his waistband and glanced around. A hand snaked around your upper arm. Normally you would’ve pulled away, but you weren’t exactly confident in your ability to stay upright. Not when you were shaking and fucking bleeding from your neck as if you’d been bitten by a vam–

“Holy shit.”

The man gave you a look that was halfway between annoyed and alarmed. “What?”

“Did I just get bitten by a vampire?” you blurted. He grimaced again. You realized how that sounded. “No, I’m not – shut the fuck up, don’t look at me like that–”

“Oh come on–” For a guy who’d gone out of his way to save you and shoot the maybe-vampire-maybe-crazy-guy who’d fucking bitten you, he seemed pretty fucking fed up. “Here.” He grabbed a bottle of orange juice from one of the drink shelves and shoved it into your hands. “Drink the fuck up. We’re leaving.”

“We can’t leave the scene of a crime. There’s a fucking dead guy!”

“Yeah, unless he’s a fucking vampire, in which case I don’t think a bullet’s gonna do much to stop him.” He practically dragged you out of the gas station with him. You couldn’t exactly argue with his logic, even if the world was tilting around you and you were lightheaded and your thoughts wouldn’t stop sloshing around like soup inside your skull.

God, how the fuck was this even happening?

“Got somewhere we can hole up?” the man asked.

You almost blurted, Who’s we? Trusting a stranger was what had gotten you into this mess. Then again, he’d gone out of his way to save you. And even if a bullet didn’t do much to stop a vampire, you had to admit you felt marginally safer with a human shield. As awful as that thought was.

“Um.” You tried to collect your scattered brain. Took a gulp of orange juice and cringed at the bitter taste. “There’s a church that isn’t too far from here.”

“That’s not–” The man cut himself off.

You glared at him. “What?”

He gave you another annoyed look. You again debated yanking your arm away from him and walking yourself. Instead you took another sip of orange juice. You probably weren’t putting enough pressure on your neck.

“That shit probably doesn’t work. Hallowed ground and crosses and all that religious BS.”

“What? Why?” You frowned. “Don’t tell me your name is Van Helsing.”

He scoffed. “It’s Frank. And your little vampire buddy didn’t need to be welcomed into that shithole to get to you, so that’s probably a myth. And who the hell knows what else is a myth too, right? We could be wasting our fuckin time in a church.”

You strained to remember whether or not there had been a welcome sign on the door of the gas station. Working there for so long had made you blind to the details of the place. You tried twisting around to catch a glance of the gas station receding behind you, but Frank was pulling you along too quickly and had you in an iron grip. Shit, maybe he was right.

Another thought hit you. “Oh fuck,” you said aloud.

“What now–?”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” you snapped. “Severen, the fucking vampire, came here with four other people he calls family. I only ever see them around at night. They’re probably fucking vampires too.” A whole pack of vampires. Right under your goddamn nose. Then again, how were you supposed to expect something that wasn’t even supposed to exist?

“Oh, well that’s just peachy.”

You were walking down a cluster of buildings now, passing by the grocery store and the bar. Warm hazy lights cast an orange glow on everything and reflected off Frank’s glasses, obscuring your view of his eyes. His mouth was set in a flat, grim line. You couldn’t get a goddamn read on him, or why he was here, or why he was helping you. You didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but after Severen, your guard was firmly up.

But….

You sighed. “We can hide at my place. I never took Severen there.” Of course, there was always the possibility that he’d followed you at some point. But then why wouldn’t he have attacked you there rather than in public? You twisted around, trying to get a look behind you again. You didn’t see any angry leather-clad blood-stained guys tailing you. You didn’t see any bats. Did vampires even turn into bats? Fuck, who knew? At least at your place, you’d have kitchen knives. And garlic, if that worked. Did you have anything that could be used as stakes? Did that even work? You’d heard decapitation was a sure way to kill anything, but you doubted you had the physical strength or mental fortitude to cut through someone’s spine, even if the bastard had tried to kill you.

Ultimately, you did end up going to your place. Your hands were shaking hard enough that you had trouble getting your keys into the door, and Frank glancing out into the open empty night didn’t do anything to ease your nerves. Especially not when his hand was resting on the grip of his pistol. It just made you want to start scanning the tiny neighborhood too. But once the door was unlocked, Frank ushered you in, slipping in right behind you before you slammed the door shut and locked it again. And hooked up the extra chain lock too. Not that it would protect you from vampire super strength. You assumed that one was real.

You flicked on the lights, but Frank immediately shut them back off. Only half a protest escaped your lips before he interrupted. “Nope. As far as anybody else is concerned, no one’s home.”

“Fine. Just give me a second.” You flicked the lights back on long enough to check the analogue clock hanging in the living room. “It’s just past three-thirty. We still have a few hours before sunrise. We can stay here until it’s light out, assuming that one’s real.” You hadn’t seen Severen or any of his pack out in the daylight. You were pretty sure that one was real, but now Frank had you second-guessing every bit of vampire fiction you’d ever seen.

But Frank just said, “Yeah. I’d say that’s a pretty safe bet.”

“Yeah. Okay.” You nodded dumbly. Stared at the faint outline of his face in the darkness. Christ on a stick. You were stuck with this guy until then. Another stranger. A stranger with a gun, no less.

Fuck.

“Alright. You close the blinds. I’ll do something about this.” You gestured to your neck. It had stopped bleeding, but you were damp and sticky with your own blood. “We can, I dunno, rub garlic around the door and windows afterwards?”

“You really think garlic’s gonna work?” Frank said doubtfully.

“I don’t fucking know!! You figure something out, Mister fucking Van Helsing! I’m gonna go deal with the fucking bite on my fucking neck.” You beelined for your bedroom and left him to his own devices. Hopefully he’d trip over something in the living room, the fucking douchebag.

You grabbed a change of clothes then stepped into the bathroom. There were no windows in the closet-sized space, so you closed the door, locked it, and flicked the light on. Through your squinting at the sudden brightness, you caught a glimpse of your reflection.

Jesus Christ, you looked like a walking corpse.

Okay. That was fine. That was expected. Whatever.

You stripped and dumped your bloodied clothes onto the floor. Jumping in the shower probably wasn’t the best move when you had a possible vampire thirsting after you and a stranger with a gun in your house, so you went with a dampened towel instead. When you’d cleaned up most of the blood, you dropped the towel onto the pile of your soiled clothes. You tried not to wince at the idea of throwing them away. The shirt and towel probably weren’t salvageable.

Not that that mattered right now. You were busy examining the bite mark on your neck. Miraculously, it had stopped bleeding on its own, though blood welled if you poked it too roughly. It had hurt at first. Now it was just weirdly, worryingly numb. The teeth marks were deep and torn, hadn’t pierced through cleanly and had probably been jostled as you’d struggled against Severen. But it was definitely a bite mark. And it definitely wasn’t a normal human one. The thought made you a little woozy, to be honest. You crouched down, and the rush of blood being forced back up made your head spin.

This couldn’t be real. This could not be real, and it could not be happening to you right now specifically. This was fucking insane.

You reached for the small medical kit under the sink. How the fuck any of this worked, you couldn’t be sure, but cleaning the bite mark and slapping a plaster on it couldn’t make things any worse.

Vampires bit humans to turn them into vampires. But they usually had to feed the human their own vampire blood to actually turn them. That’s how it went in Interview with a Vampire and Dracula, right? And that hadn’t happened to you. So you were good. Right? Probably? The feeding blood thing was something vampire fiction generally agreed upon. That was probably real.

But wait, Dracula was actually able to go into the sun in the original book. It only weakened him. Shit, what if the bursting into flames in daylight thing was made up? Your heart dropped at the thought. Although, no, you hadn’t seen Severen or the rest of his pack during daylight hours. And an RV could be a pretty good place for vampires to hide if they blocked out all the windows. Okay then, that one seemed like a safe bet. You weren’t so sure about garlic. That one sounded pretty silly. And as much as you hated to admit it, Frank was probably right about vampires not needing to be invited in. So you couldn’t count on that to protect you. And what about religious iconography? You weren’t sure you had anything in your house for that anyway. Fucking hell. You’d been thrust into a world you didn’t understand and didn’t know the rules to. And you had to keep yourself alive because of it. Well, yourself and Frank.

Even if the garlic seemed silly, it couldn’t hurt either. And surely you had something around the house that could be used as a stake. Unless it had to be wood.... did it have to be a particular kind of wood....?

“Fuck,” you muttered to your reflection. Maybe Frank would have some ideas.

You finished cleaning up and getting dressed, and then you headed back out. “You see anything weird?” you asked as you opened the bedroom door. And stopped. Squinted in the darkness.

The living room was empty.

“....Frank?” Your heartbeat thumped in your ears as you peered into the kitchen. He wasn’t there. “Frank? Are you–”

Something grabbed you from behind. A hand muffled your shriek before it could leave your throat. You thrashed and kicked and bucked like an animal as you were dragged. Your elbow jammed against something solid. A grunt of pain hit your ear.

Then you were tossed onto the bed. The mattress softened the harshness of the fall, and you jerked upright immediately. You scrabbled for a weapon as a figure filled your doorway. Tall wiry gleaming glasses outline of a jacket –

“Sev–”

He pounced onto you and you shrieked again. Clawed and writhed and–

It wasn’t Severen. It was Frank. With a mouthful of sharp teeth baring down at you. Oh fuck.

“Now what are the chances of that, huh?” he sneered. “Getting attacked by two different vampires in one day? Talk about bad luck.”

“GET OFF!” You renewed your struggles, but that brief moment of shock had given Frank all the time he’d needed. He had you caged against the bed, grabbing your arms and pinning you down with his bodyweight. “No!!”

“Fraid this just isn’t your day.” He said it so cruelly, so carelessly, like you were little more than a beetle under his shoe. Tears pricked your eyes. God, you were so fucking stupid, you’d fallen for the same fucking shit again.... “Tears? Really? Now? We’re just getting to the good part.”

“Fuck you,” you gritted out.

He laughed softly. You jerked under him again, but he remained immovable. “Maybe in another life. Now. Hold still.”

He leaned in, teeth bared and breath puffing against the other side of your neck. “NO!” you screamed. You threw every ounce of energy in your body into heaving against him. One of your knees hit his gut. The air rushed out of him and he doubled over. You yanked a hand out of his grip and blindly grabbed something from the bedside table and smashed it against his head. He toppled to the side. You shoved him off and bolted.

You didn’t even make it to the bedroom door. A hand was on your arm and you were spinning and then you were on the mattress again, this time with Frank shoved up behind you and pinning you to the bed, your back to his front and your face pressed against the sheets. You hollered, half-muffled. He wrestled with your flailing arms.

“Not so fucking fast, bitch,” he spat in your ear. “I haven’t eaten in weeks. I’ve been buying my time on fucking gas station iron pills, but now that I’ve got live, squirming prey? You’re not getting away from me that easy.”

You snarled some combination of words at him. You weren’t even sure what. But you writhed and jerked and flailed and didn’t let up for one second, even as he pressed against you and swore at you.

“Yknow,” a familiar voice drawled, “it’d be easier if you hypnotized em. Right?”

You both froze. You turned your face to stare at the bedroom entrance.

Alive and well, leaning against the doorjamb with one leg crossed in front of the other, mouth and shirt smeared with blood that looked black in the darkness – Severen. Sunglasses and all. Very much not looking like a man who’d been recently shot.

Your heart plummeted. Despair like nothing you’d ever experienced washed through your body, cold and stinging like alcohol.

“The fuck you mean ‘hypnotized’?” Frank said. He didn’t sound smug anymore. Just pissed.

A disbelieving laugh burst out from Severen. “You don’t know about that? Ohhh I get it now!! Well I’ll be damned!!” He took a step forward, practically sauntered. “You’re a newbie, aren’t ya? You ain’t figured out all the perks yet! Yknow what else you ain’t figured out yet, newbie?” Another step forward. A sliver of light from the bathroom – you’d forgotten to turn the light off you’d just closed the door you’d been in such a rush – hit his sunglasses and illuminated the edge of a smile and blood-splattered skin. His voice turned sharp and low like you hadn’t heard before. “You don’t steal another vamp’s prey.”

Frank flinched behind you. You saw Severen move, but it took another second to figure out what else you were seeing. A pistol, gleaming and old-fashioned, aimed at Frank. It might’ve brought you relief in any other circumstance, but here, now, aimed at a vampire....?

“This might not kill you, but I can assure you, it hurts like a bitch.” Severen flashed his teeth at the both of you. “So how bout this, son? I’ll be the bigger man and let you go, and you fuck off into the night and never cross my way again. But first, and here’s the fun part – we share this lovely lil sweetheart here between the two of us. And if you say no, well,” he laughed cheerfully, “I’ll shoot ya and drink up by myself, and then I’ll make you regret stumblin into an elder.”

You couldn’t breathe. Two options. Neither of which ended with you still having a pulse.

“So!” Severen wiggled his free hand through the air. “What’ll it be?”

The following pause was heavy and lasted far too long. Please say no. Please refuse him. Please fight him or try to disarm him or fuck up and give me a chance to escape, please, God, please....

Frank sighed through his nose. “You know what? Fine. Fine! Whatever. As long as I get something out of this clusterfuck.”

The words triggered something in your brain, that primal drive to survive. You yelled and thrashed, hoping to catch him off guard and fling him off. He just hissed and squeezed your arms till your bones felt like they were about to snap. You cried out in pain. Tears blurred your vision.

“You wanna help me out here or what?” Frank asked Severen.

“Sure thing, partner!” The words dripped with saccharine venom. He neared the bed and reached up to his sunglasses. Hypnotism. Cold fear doused you.

“NnnNOOdon’tyoufuckindare!” You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head away. Severen’s laugh twisted your insides unpleasantly.

“Aw now don’t be like that!” You heard shifting fabric, the creak of leather and jingle of a dozen pins and badges. Fingers forced their way under your chin and tugged at you, trying to coax you towards him as rings dug into your cheek. You struggled to resist. Clamped your jaws together and strained your neck muscles so hard it felt like something was about to pop. “I said, don’t be like that.” Nails dug into the skin at the back of your neck, piercing and hurting and lancing pain through your nerves. It shocked you into relenting, and Severen twisted your head towards him with a noise of approval. You screwed your eyes shut tighter. He tsked at you. “C’mon now, open up for Sev.”

“Here, let me,” Frank said from behind you. He yanked you away from the bed and clasped your upper arms in a near bone-breaking grip. You had no time to recover before he bit you and agony ripped through your neck and shoulder. On instinct your body arced, strained, tried to pull away from the pain as your eyes snapped open of their own accord. And then there were fingers around your chin, roughly yanking you down, forcing you to meet eyes the color of the afternoon sky –

“Relax, sweetheart. The three of us’re gonna have some real fun tonight.”

The effect was instantaneous. Something fuzzy and hazy wrapped around your thoughts. Even as you struggled, your body loosened, and your thrashing weakened to a soft writhe. You bit down on your own tongue till blood filled your mouth. Focused on the pain, the hurt, the agony radiating from your tongue and your jaw and your neck and your arms, and refused to let yourself get swept up in the stupor. You were not doing this, you were not letting this happen, you were not going down without a fight. If they wanted you, they’d have to fight tooth and fucking nail, you swore it to any God that was fucking watching.

“Jesse likes to go on about how this sorta thing is really more the power of suggestion than actual hypnotism. Accordin to him, hypnotism ain’t even real.” Severen said it casually, as if commenting on the color of the walls or the softness of the pillows, even as the dog-like tilt of his head revealed the predator in human skin. “Which is real funny comin from the walkin talkin livin dead. But point is, lil sweetheart’s still gonna be struggling if you don’t do it right. Get off newbie.”

Frank unlatched from your neck. You whimpered in pain, tried to pull away, but your body responded only weakly.

“What?” He sounded almost as bleary as you felt.

Severen cackled. “Don’t know how to make it feel good yet either, huh? Whoever vamp daddy is did a piss poor job at teachin you the ropes. Scoot over. Let a professional handle it.” He cupped your neck and ripped off the plaster you’d placed over his bitemark.

A bitemark on each side, you thought through the fuzz. Now you were all evened out.

Teeth pierced through your flesh for a third time that night. It hurt. It hurt. You tried to put up a struggle despite the weight of your limbs and the lightness of your head. Pleading words and cries fell from your mouth. They went unheeded. Severen sucked at your skin and lapped up your blood – yes, this was really happening, this was what they were going to do to you – and your head swam. Your shoved at him weakly, but you might as well have been shoving at a brick wall.

This was it. End of the line. A lamb to the slaughter. Bottom of the food chain.

Your thoughts and emotions tangled together, fueled by the rush of pain and adrenaline and blood loss. Something crept through your veins. A chill spreading outwards under your skin. Death. This is what it felt like to die, you were sure of it, and all you could do was wait for it to overtake you.

.....Except.

It wasn’t. It didn’t. It was something else. Something started to replace the pain and the despair, something that was warm and liquid and buzzing. It filled your senses and glowed in your chest and trickled further down, dangerously down.

It felt.... good.

Awareness flooded your senses, hyperawareness of every little detail and sensation. The light spilling from the bathroom, casting the scene in lurid suggestive shadows and slivers of amber. Severen’s teeth buried in your neck, his lips closed around your skin as if working a permanent hickey into your throat. How he cradled your head so sweetly and dragged a hand down your side. Frank’s breath on your ear and your cheek and your neck, the proximity of his lips. Both of them solid and pressed against the length of your body, immovable and caging you in and supporting your body weight as your legs buckled beneath you.

How could you have been afraid? How could you have run and cried and screamed when it felt like this? You shifted against them, searched desperately and half-mindedly for some sort of movement. You might have whimpered. Or moaned. You weren’t entirely sure.

Severen unlatched from your neck but didn’t go far. You could feel him smiling against you. “Didn’t I tell you it’d feel good? All that struggling for nothin.” You mm-hmmed as enthusiastically as you could, despite the intoxicating headiness unfolding in your body and making you dizzy.

Frank’s exhale brushed against your ear. You shuddered. “How the hell did you do that?” he murmured. Some distant part of you wondered the same.

“Ain’t rocket science.” Severen licked at the gouges of your bitemarks. Sparks of pleasure flew under your skin.

At some point you’d started squirming. You wanted that feeling, that friction from when Severen had pushed his thigh between your legs at the gas station and you’d ground against him. That felt like a lifetime ago. Like a dream. You wanted it back. You wriggled your hips and got a response from the both of them. Frank made a low choked noise in the back of his throat and one of his hands flew to your side, nails digging through the fabric of your shirt. Severen sucked in a breath and tipped his head back. His throat worked enticingly as he ground back against you. Oh fuck that felt good. You gasped and grabbed Severen’s shoulders to steady yourself. And tried desperately not to sound like a dog in heat as you writhed against them.

You were too warm, burning up. Aching and struggling to breathe. Hands slid along what parts of your body they could reach, mouths and tongues and teeth pressed against your neck.

The thought of being consumed no longer seemed so terrifying. The mental image of them tearing into you, bloodying and messing themselves with you, teeth gnashing and throats working and tongues exploring your veins and arteries and snapping them like rubber bands was so visceral, it made you clench around nothing.

Eat me alive eat me alive please God devour me.

Between one moment and the next, you’d been dragged to the bed. Frank was behind you still, holding your back to his chest. He grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against him, and when you rocked against the hardness pressed to your ass, you were rewarded with a stuttered groan. You couldn’t even remember why you’d been annoyed at him. He was making such delicious little noises because of you, was grinding against you with the desperation of a man who hadn’t been touched by anyone else in years. How long would it take him to cum in his jeans just from this?

Your attention was abruptly, fully drawn away when Severen dropped to his knees in front of you. Enough light bled out from the bathroom to let you see the fresh blood smeared across his face, overlapping the dried splatter from before. His eyes glinted in the dimness. He looked like a predator. He was a predator. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid, not when he was pushing your thighs apart and running his fingers up to the hem of your jeans. He thumbed the button. At this angle, the way he looked up at you through dark eyelashes was absolutely obscene.

“How bout this? He drinks you, and I eat you. Sound fair?”

Lust hit you like a physical force.

Frank dropped his head down to your shoulder and licked at the bloody bite mark he’d made. “Yeah, alright. Sounds fair.”

You had enough time to catch a flash of teeth from Severen before he was undoing your jeans and dragging them off you and taking your underwear with them. It took a tangle of limbs and wandering hands to maneuver your body, but then you were bare and exposed and you suddenly realized how wet you were. How wet you’d been the entire time they’d been manhandling you. Heat flared in your cheeks and deeper in your guts.

“Well, lookit this,” Severen purred. “All this for lil ole me?”

“You?” Frank muttered against your skin.

“Was my idea.” And then his mouth was on your exposed cunt and Frank was sinking his teeth into you and it was so much, it was too much, it was near overwhelming. Pleasure shot through you so intense it made your body jolt from the force of it. Your heart pounded in your throat where Frank’s mouth met your skin. He kept grinding against your ass as he drank. He pushed your shirt up and explored the expanse of your body, every dip and fold, teasing and testing every inch of sensitive flesh. All while Severen’s tongue lavished your clit, warm and wet and fucking relentless. He drank up your arousal like that alone would sustain him. His tongue swept tight little circles over your clit and then dipped down between your folds, back up to your clit, and he did it again and again until your thighs were shaking and you were twisting your fingers into his hair. The hot pressure of his tongue and his fingers digging into your thighs and Frank clutching you and sucking on your neck was all too intense. You shuddered and jerked and panted from the pleasure. You were burning, coiling tight, about to shake apart from it all. You had no idea what you were or weren’t saying.

Fuckfuckfuck, it needed to stop but you didn’t want it to, please don’t stop fuck oh God please –

Frank pulled his teeth from your neck to press sloppy open-mouthed kisses to your skin, smearing the blood already drenching you. His lips were slick, the prick of teeth a promise. “Fuck, you taste good,” he slurred, words barely more than a growl. He rolled one of your nipples between his fingers. It was all you could do not to cry out.

And then you did cry out as Severen’s teeth pierced your inner thigh. Fresh blood joined the slick mess between your legs. You rolled your hips forward against the fingers Severen had shoved into your cunt and the thumb he’d pressed firmly to your clit, and then you continued the motion backwards to grind against Frank’s still-clothed bulge. It hit you so perfectly you wanted to cry, and maybe you did. It was impossible to tell with the onslaught of sensation. Half-blind, you grabbed Frank by the hair and yanked him up. His protest was cut off when you slammed your lips against his and swallowed the noise. He opened to you with a broken moan. You ran your tongue along his teeth. The coppery tang of blood made your insides curl with disgust just as much as it had you riding Severen’s fingers. You pricked yourself on Frank’s teeth. Sharp pain, the taste of blood, and then he was grabbing the back of your neck and devouring you, teeth and tongue and frenzied need, kissing you like it was his salvation and your demise. It probably was. And God, you wanted nothing more.

A new hand at your neck urged you away from Frank. You turned your head. Severen was leaning up, eyes-half lidded. “Oh, you sure fuckin do. Blood and pussy taste like heaven.” He pulled you in and you kissed him too, tasted your blood and arousal and you moaned into him. Frank nipped at your neck, dragged his hips against yours. Severen’s fingers were still curled inside you.

You were going to explode. You were going to die. You were going to irreversibly shatter apart and it was going to be messy and it was going to feel so fucking good that you wouldn’t even mind.

The sound of a belt and a zipper shot through you like lightning. You were pulled up onto your knees and they both came up with you, Severen in front and Frank behind, pressed against your bloody and sweaty and spit-soaked body. Frank shifted behind you and his tip pressed against your aching cunt. Between Severen fingering you open and the fluids coating your thighs, he was able to slide in with ease. You choked on the feeling, the relief from the emptiness and the fullness of him inside you. An experimental thrust had you doubling over against Severen, which just made his thumb rub harder against your clit. The next thrust hit you even deeper.

You felt sick. Sick with desire, in pain from arousal.

You only belatedly realized you’d reached for Severen’s belt, shaking hands pawing at the clunky metal buckle. He laughed at you but helped anyway. When you curled your blood-slickened fingers around him, his eyes practically rolled into the back of his head and his jaw went slack. He thrust into your hand with barely-restrained desperation. The dual motions were uneven, jolting and frenzied, but then you slid into a rhythm and the three of you writhed in tune. Moans and huffs, cries of pleasure from you and a tear-dampened face. You jerked Severen off as he punished your clit, as Frank fucked into you, as you lost what was left of your mind. You kissed them and they switched between kissing and biting and sucking and licking you. There was so much blood. All of it yours. You couldn’t care.

You seized in pleasure when they bit you at once, teeth buried in either side of your neck, four hands playing you like a finely tuned instrument. Sobs wracked your throat from how good it was. They used your body like a doll, kept moving until their own release was spilling into your hand and filling you up. Kept moving after that, chasing every wretched bit of pleasure in your bodies until the pain had returned and you could no longer tell it apart from the pleasure.

When they finally blessed you with mercy and released you, your body fell limply to the bed. Your limbs were dead, useless, body entirely wrung out. Your head swam and muffled ringing filled your ears. Colored dots danced along the ceiling, nearly obscuring the two bloodied faces peering down at you.

“Thanks for the fun times, sugar.” The words were muffled, as if coming from underwater. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Couldn’t make yourself get up, move, do anything. Why was that bad....? You were so tired. Too hot and too cold and impossibly tired. The bed was heaven underneath you.

The faces were saying something, but you couldn’t hear them. Didn’t want to.

You let your eyelids slide shut.

The darkness was a blessing.

#ace writes #severen x reader #severen near dark x reader #frank abigail x reader #adam barrett x reader #severen near dark #frank abigail #adam barrett #notsft #this is such a pain in the ass to tag lmfao

116 notes · View notes

wayfayrr · 9 months ago

Note

I offer the idea of soft times with sage

Braiding hair, just cuddling with each other and overall spending time with one another.

- 🍄

(It’s been a bit lmao, college kicked me in the shins)

sorry it's been a while since you sent this, I relate with uni being a bitch though :')

I'm gonna use this ask though to put it out that I'm no longer going to be writing for Sage, however I won't stop writing totk link altogether - instead I've been creating a link that's more inline for how I see his character and for how I'm comfortable to write <3 I've been calling him Tears so far and I have to thank a lot of my mutuals for chipping in ideas with a special mention to @glowyskull for coming up with some of the best headcanons I think I've ever heard (the last three are courtesy of them) <333 @h4wari, @mushroomwoods, @sketchyspook here's the boy you were waiting for!!! (thank you all for your help too <333)

and without any more hesitation here he is!!

✦ he got the nickname tears for a reason, anything and everything will set this boy off. he's a true crybaby and will certainly use it to try and win your attention from the others. It's not always cause he's sad though, sometimes things can just get overwhelming

✦ his memory can be a bit spotty, unlike wild he rushed through his previous quest, not that he's all that fussed about missing those memories - making new positive ones are more important to him

✦ like his counterpart, he's got a couple of different nicknames, tears is the most prominent however architect does tend to show itself fairly often. messing around to see what different kinds of contraptions he can make is one of his favourite pastimes, one he'll happily share if given the chance.

✦ wild and him have been assumed many times to be identical twins, seeing as his stint in the shrine of ressurection put a halt to most of his aging processes. not that he doesn't bring up his actual age every now and then for a little shock factor

✦ thankfully they're easy to tell apart, seeing as tears discovered how to dye his hair and paint his nails quickly into his second quest, leading to his hair forever being stained with a multitude of different colours while his nails change colour nearly every other day

✦ his cheeky side is still very much there though, ready to make the dumbest puns you've ever heard and to not stop till you're laughing no matter how hard you cringe at them when he starts.

✦ one of the most affectionate links, willing to do basically anything you ask him to and even things you didn't. give him the smallest hint you like a certain food? what do you mean it's a little suspicious he suddenly has all of its ingredients for it - he simply wanted to try it himself, can you tell him if it tastes right?

✦ He hates to see anyone crying, especially his significant other, nine times out of ten it’ll end up with him crying at your side but he’s always there at your side to cheer you up. If you can’t bring yourself to speak about whatever is upsetting you though? Luckily for him a simple kiss of your tears is enough to show him the memory that hurt you. Thankfully it also goes for the happier ones.

✦ Your smile and praise is something he simply lives for, headpats being his favourite way to receive it, leave him alone with belongings for too long though and when you come back he’s standing next to them with a blinding smile having fused a lot of them to each other or to something he thinks would be useful for you to have. Granted the journal flame thrower combination might not have been his brightest moment.

✦ the same desire can come out in other ways though, such as giving you different nicknames with his personal favourite calling you his sundelion. Sometimes he really shows how much he likes that nickname by making you flowercrowns as surprises. Granted every now and then he takes it a little too far, telling you you’re all he needs to heal from the gloom instead of taking any real treatment.

Tending the fire is probably one of the easiest and most calming tasks I could’ve been given today, it’s nice to have something to zone out with after a whole day on the road. Not that I can complain about it though, we didn’t run into any monsters or other threats and travelling was calm. Who’s trying to get my attention by tapping me on the back though?

“[name]? Mind if I come sit with you for a bit, I'd like to get to know you better if that's alright.”

“Yeah of course Tears, If we’re going to be traveling together for a while it makes a lot of sense too.”

This man is a sweetheart I can tell, just from saying yes to him he’s already got the most coy smile on his face; it’s like his face is practically glowing from it when he sits. Shuffling closer to my side almost like he’s asking if it’s alright for him be be this close, with the way the firelight is illuminating him is making me question if the warmth on my face is really from the fire or not now. Just distract yourself with something before you get any redder.

“Oh? You’ve got something in your hair, one second-”

The moment I plucked the stick out of his hair he froze up, his cheeks flushing before relaxing.

“Are - are you good? Sorry I should’ve asked first.”

“No, no, no it’s alright I just… didn’t expect it?”

“Yeah I know, next time I’l-”

“Actually would you um mind playing with my hair? I ah never really get the chance to relax like this.”

Well isn’t that simply adorable, I would be heartless to say no to such a request. Besides, I know wild has some of the softest hair possible so the chance to play with it? No way am I going to miss that if all that visible dye hasn’t fried it to bits.

“If that’s what you want then I won’t say no.”

“Really?”Is he - no he can’t be, or maybe… is he so starved of affection that he’d tear up over something this small, the more I think about it, it does make sense. Playing with his hair is so relaxing I almost missed the fact that he was starting to tear up more, all I can hope for is that they’re not from him being upset.

#Hi shroom!!!!#It's good to see you <333 #thought I'd take the chance to do this here sfgvfdsbg #moss✦writes #link x reader #linked universe #linked universe x reader #totk x reader #totk link x reader #Tears #should I be confident and make him his own lu tag?#heck why not fgvfdgvb #Lu Tears

135 notes · View notes

irithylldancer · 2 months ago

Text

Messmer and Melina are the bookends to Marika's family. Her family begins and ends with a vision of fire.

Just something I've been thinking about today. It's taken me a while to come up with a satisfactory narrative for Messmer's origins and I don't think I would have come to any conclusions if I didn't think on the origins of Melina. Some scattered thoughts from me and others can be found in this thread here. Also some extra context for this theory: I don't think Marika was ever put into the jar and I think Radagon was always a part of Marika, not a separate person who then joined with her.

I want to preface by saying that I think the Gloam Eyed Queen is a foil to Marika. There isn't much info in the game about her and she remains quite mysterious. They're both Empyreans chosen by the fingers and possibly, also born influenced by fire. To what extent, I couldn't really say for sure unless I go into super speculative town. We know GEQ harnessed the power of Destined Death via fire, giving the ability to her apostle children; and Marika passes on the affinity for fire to Messmer and Melina. I think it's something that's passed down genetically (idk another word to describe it lol) and not them being influenced directly by outside forces (like Malenia and Miquella) because of Radagon also naturally having that red hair. As a divestment of Marika, he took on that property. Essentially, GEQ embraced her fire while Marika smothered hers.

Malenia and Millicent's characters helped give me a lot of answers to questions. We know from completing Millicent's questline that she was born when Malenia bloomed her scarlet rot. An action that was most likely very a intense emotional and physical pressure (a reference to a crucible? heavy emotions and bodily stress strained to make new life akin to smelting?). Another huge clue was looking through the various statues of Marika. They help give us a decent view of the timeline.

The headless one is kind we find in the Land of Shadow. Middle is Marika holding baby Messmer from his boss arena (from kitetales on YT), and the last one is the kind we find around the Lands Between. Judging from the length of her hair, we can start to piece some info together. The story trailer for Shadow of the Erdtree and the Hornsent Grandame mention Marika's betrayal. I think they were the ones who constructed those churches around the land. As an Empyrean, a vessel, they saw the potential for her to become their new living god. It's why I don't think Marika was ever put into the jar. She was already a living jar in their eyes.

Then we have this snapshot from the story trailer. Her hair is much longer than the statues depicted in the LoS. What's also interesting is how she's dressed. It's not her typical attire, but something very similar to what Radagon wears. In this moment, if we assume that Radagon's persona has come into existence and they share the same body, her ascension didn't happen alone. If we reference back to Malenia and Millicent's creation, Markia becoming a vessel for the Elden Ring would also count as intense emotional and physical pressure, off shooting new life in the form of Messmer. If this is the case, he is technically the son of Marika and Radagon. Radagon's mix into this off shooting of Messmer is what classifies him as their child, earning him a butterfly. His birth would have been incredibly special if it happened in that moment and why I think Messmer was given so many blessings and love. Why he was the 'chosen one' for her crusade. Now looking to the statue of Marika holding baby Messmer, her second braid has been cut (it's hard to tell from the photo, but kitetales does rotate the statue in a video and the braid is gone). That cut braid we find later in the Shaman Village as the Golden Braid talisman, an offering she leaves before veiling the LoS.

As for Melina (also butterfly baby), we know for sure that Marika and Radagon had converged back together because I think she was born as a result of shattering the Elden Ring. Another moment of extreme emotional and physical pressure. Melina tells you she was born at the foot of the Erd Tree and that her purpose was given to her by her mother from inside of it. Anything she remembers revolves around the Erd Tree. And since most fans agree that Marika is influencing the guidance of grace, it's also possible she was able to convey Melina's purpose to her while crucified inside the Tree. I won't go too into detail about Melina as a person since I've discussed it in another thread, but we can reference Millicent as her parallel. Offshoots of divine beings, not raised by their mothers, but they feel this compulsion to complete a journey and fulfill a purpose. In the end, they both regain some memories and find their autonomy as their own persons.

Ending this really long post by bringing up Law of Regression.

The fundamentalists describe the Golden Order through the powers of regression and causality. Regression is the pull of meaning; that all things yearn eternally to converge.

I think this sum up Messmer's, Melina's, and Millicent's narratives really well. Despite having no memories, Melina and Millicent feel this pull. A force of yearning to return to their mothers in some way because they are fragments of them. And I think Messmer feels this pull too, but he knows he can never make his journey home.

#thank you for reading if you did #elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #radagon of the golden order #queen marika the eternal #messmer the impaler #base serpent messmer

49 notes · View notes

lovelyhan · 2 years ago

Note

kai pls “you sound pretty hot when you shut up.” + cheol im begging

also ily <3 hope ur doing well and taking care of urself <333

SAR BELOVED! sorry it took me a while to get to this </3 but hehe here's some cheol filth to start ur day right 😼😼😼

⟣ "you sound pretty hot when you shut up" ⟢ wc: 0.8k words minors do not interact!

One would think that the two presidents of the oldest fraternity and sorority on campus would get along swimmingly. Not only are the two organizations officially affiliated with one another, but most of the time, their members are either really good friends or dating slash fucking each other on the side.

So yes, it was perfectly logical to assume that you and Choi Seungcheol would fall into either of those categories.

Except you don't.

"Didn't I tell you to stop loitering around our property?"

"Your sorority is literally a sister organization to our frat. This is technically our property too, so what's your deal, ice princess?"

"My deal is that I can't fucking study when you're bringing all these stupid frat boys into our hangout! Don't you all have somewhere else to be?"

"Now why are you even studying at your goddamn hangout spot? You're supposed to hang out here, genius."

As Seungcheol bickers with you, the infamous Zeta Tau Alpha president, the 'stupid frat boys' he brought over to your sorority hangout spot all sigh in unison.

"There they go again," Mingyu comments with a laugh. "If I didn't know better, I'd think this is all for show and they're secretly screwing each other."

"That's, like, fanfiction levels of ridiculousness, dude," Seokmin comments. "They don't hate each other in a 'we-secretly-fuck-like-rabbits' kind of way. They just...hate each other. Period."

Soonyoung hums on the side while sipping on a box of juice. "Hmm... But don't you think they're being a little too theatric with their arguments lately? Remember when she splashed water all over Cheol at the cafeteria yesterday?"

"I don't know about that, Soonie," comments one of your sisters, Sana, who shakes her head. "Our lovely president over there is a sweetheart, but when you've done something to piss her off, she'll remember it until she dies."

Mingyu perks up with curiosity. "So you're saying that Cheol did something unforgivable? Is that why she hates him so much?"

Sana can only offer them a nonchalant shrug.

"No clue."

Unbeknownst to your members, Seungcheol has done something unforgivable to you in the past.

"I can't fucking believe you're still hung up on the first time we fucked," Seungcheol rasps as his fingers dig into your thighs. "It was just a one-night stand at the time. Why are you so pissed off?"

Though you want nothing more than to glare at him, the sensation of his thick cock ramming into you does unfairly well in derailing your train of thought. Still, your perpetual irritation with him breaks through the surface.

"How many times do I have to tell you that that was my first time!" You bite back, stifling a moan when Seungcheol presses your face against the cold metal of the lockers. "You can't just take a girl's virginity and leave her all alone in the morning! Doesn't your frat have a code of chivalry or something?"

Seungcheol lets out an irritated noise before lifting up one of your thighs—hooking it across his elbow so he gets to fuck into you deeper. The angle has the leg still planted on the floor quivering with pleasure but your pride won't allow yourself to fall apart so easily.

"Ice princess doesn't like it when her favorite boy toy can't be tied down? I came back to you anyways, didn't I? Again and again—ruining this pretty pussy for anyone else."

When you feel his breath against the shell of your ear, your walls clamp around his pulsating cock almost embarrassingly tight.

"And I'll keep fucking you until that ice cold heart of yours finally melts."

You don't offer up any more complaints—completely and utterly submissive as Seungcheol rails you against the lockers none-too-discreetly. He's rougher than usual, and it wouldn't surprise you if any of his teammates finally found out about this dirty little secret you've been keeping under wraps.

You're fucking addicted to him. His cock squelches with a lewd sound each time he fucks into you, orchestrating a perfectly timed orgasm that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Not a single noise comes out of your mouth once it crests—mouth agape in a quiet scream as you topple over the edge. Your hips absentmindedly meet the cadence of Seungcheol's practiced strokes as you ride out your high, and he only stops when his cock paints your insides with the white hot mess of his cum.

"You sound pretty hot when you shut up."

He dishes out the backhanded compliment when you're fixing the collar of your shirt—mind thankfully far enough from that sexual subspace to rightfully scoff at him.

"Don't let it get to your head," you say, already halfway to the doors of the locker room. "I just didn't want anyone else finding out that we're fucking inside a public space."

Seungcheol chuckles. "Now don't act like you're not down to do it again twice as loud the next time I ask you to."

You don't entertain him with a response. Instead, you let the heavy doors slam behind you in an illusion of autonomy. Of course you wouldn't agree to fuck that insufferable frat president in another risky place.

Even if his cum staining your panties says otherwise.

#svthub #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seungcheol smut #s.coups smut #lovelyhan #🎲 ask games #💭 request #📝 drabble #💘 mutuals #sar <3 #i am so completely normal for cheol #like so very Normal

608 notes · View notes

apomaro-mellow · 1 year ago

Text

Mafia AU Part 2

After the party, life went on as usual. Eddie really thought nothing of it until he and Wayne had to go back to the Marini estate a few days later. It was Eddie's second time ever being there, so he assumed he would be included in some sort of important conversation. But instead, his uncle went through a door and left him behind. Before the door was shut, he got a glimpse of the Don himself. Wayne told him to sit outside and behave himself. Which Eddie did. For about a minute.

If they were in a completely different room anyway. It's not like they're going to see where he goes or what he does. He could pull his pants down and moon the door for all they'd know about it. Eddie kept his pants on though. He stood from the chair and started to explore. Since today was supposed to be important gathering, he was dressed for it again today. Button down shirt, gray slacks and suspenders. No jacket though and Wayne had said that was fine.

He almost wished he did though. The Marinis (or was it the Harringtons?) had plenty of little trinkets around their mansion that would've been fun to smuggle out. He could probably still fit something in his pocket though. Like the tiny but beautiful crystal dolphin that was sitting amongst other things in a hallway alcove. Eddie snatched it right up and put both hands in his pocket, whistling away. Get this to the right pawn shop and he and Wayne could be sitting pretty for a while. And these rich fucks wouldn't even notice it missing.

Eddie passed by a window and saw that there was quite the garden outside. A nice stroll in nature was just what he needed. He and Wayne lived in a tiny ass apartment in the city. Not a lot of chances to see green outside the florist. Once he got out there, he put his hat back on to shade his eyes. Eddie took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the leaves, of the flowers, and of...something else. He sniffed some more as he walked, the faint smell getting stronger and then he heard voices.

Steve was here.

With someone.

Ahead of Eddie was a tall hedge, covered in roses. It looked like someone could get lost in there. And when Eddie entered, he quickly realized it was a maze. He grinned. Now this was entertainment. He wondered what they had in the middle? Probably some kind of centerpiece? Eddie was still following that scent of Steve. It was soft and sweet and he knew he was getting close. Eddie peeked around a corner and saw Steve sitting on a bench, talking to a girl, a beta. Obviously this was the center. It had a fountain, which was a little disappointing.

He didn't know what either of them were saying as they were both speaking Italian. All Eddie knew were a few curse words. The girl got up and left Steve, exiting the other way. Eddie was about to announce his presence when Tommy of all people swooped in.

"That took me forever. Guess you're just better at this maze, than me."

"Well, I've been through it a few times", Steve said.

Tommy sat down next to Steve, just a little too close for Eddie's comfort, knowing that Tommy had Steve in his sights. He had no idea how Steve felt. Maybe Tommy was the alpha of his dreams. But he was doubtful, seeing as the omega turned his head away.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?", Eddie announced himself, walking over.

Tommy clearly didn't want him here. He was straight up glaring at Eddie while putting an arm across the bench, like he was already claiming Steve. Steve didn't seem mad at being interrupted. If anything, he looked intrigued.

"What are you doing here, Munson?"

"I can't stop and smell the roses?", Eddie asked, leaning over to sniff at one of the blossoms that were nose height on the hedge.

"It's rude to walk around someone else's place. And imagine if I weren't here", Tommy looked to Steve as he said this. "It's not proper for an omega to be alone with an alpha, both of them unmated."

Steve opened his mouth but Eddie beat him to it. "And what're you? Chopped liver?"

"The boss trusts me. Comes with the territory of being a family friend."

"You must get sooo many perks."

"Tommy, you mind going to check on lunch for me?", Steve asked.

Tommy's head swiveled. "What? Am I your errand boy now?"

Steve leveled him a look that said 'you always have been'. "My father trusts you so much, after all."

"...But...I can't...", his eyes glanced to Eddie.

"I'm not getting less hungry the longer you sit here." Steve put his chin in his hand. "I wonder if there's anyone else here who's better at listening and following orders?"

Tommy got up, straightened his jacket, and walked off, purposely bumping shoulders with Eddie on the way out. Eddie felt the slightest urge to knock heads with him for that, but he was more curious about why Steve would get them alone like this. Tommy was right, being alone with an alpha like him wouldn't be good for Steve's reputation. Especially a lowborn one like Eddie, who technically wasn't even part of the family.

"What kind of lunch do they serve in this joint? I bet you guys get veal here", Eddie said, just trying to fill the silence as Steve inspected him from the bench.

"Your uncle is in a meeting right now. Do you know why?"

Eddie shrugged. "They kept me outside, so I haven't the slightest." Then he grinned. "Maybe they're discussing your dowry to the Hagans."

"Not funny", Steve said, even though he was smiling. "You're still standing."

"Munsons get beat down but we always get back up."

"No, I mean, there's room for you to sit. Why aren't you sitting?"

"And take Hagan's spot? Isn't this the job where you try NOT to make enemies?"

"Are you afraid of Tommy?", Steve asked, eyebrow raised.

Eddie scoffed. "Of him? I called the guy chopped liver but at least that tastes good on bread. I wouldn't spread Tommy on the stalest of crackers."

"I'm going to assume that's an insult because I've never had chopped liver."

Eddie tapped his chin and then snapped his fingers. "It's the poor man's foie gras."

"Ah, so meat mush", Steve nodded in understanding.

"Delicious meat mush. If that fancy pate isn't your thing, you gotta try the deli I got to. Ms. Byers is a small woman but she can butcher the hell out of anything and make it good."

"Maybe she should join the family." Steve smiled at Eddie and then patted the empty space next to him.

Eddie eyed it, feeling tempted, yet not entirely trusting himself. He didn't know Steve that well, but he knew the kinds of games that omegas like to play sometimes. Especially the bored, rich ones. Eddie had never met a bored and rich omega before Steve but he'd heard stories. They got their kicks with alphas, playing around with them until they got caught. And it was always the alpha who paid the price for deflowering an omega that didn't belong to them, ruining them for marriage. Eddie thought maybe they could be afforded more progressive thinking in the year 1986, but for some folks their memory and values didn't go past 1945. Well really, some of them 1870.

In fact, it already felt like playing with fire being alone with Steve for this long. It didn't matter that they were outside, anyone could use this against them.

"I think I should be getting back to my uncle. He still thinks I'm a kid and if I'm not where he left me, he'll put on a search party."

"Sounds like he cares."

"Oh no, he just wants to curb any potential property damage. He lost me at the fair once and by the time he found me, I had already set fire to a kiddy coaster."

Steve laughed, a real laugh, and it was like a bell. He stood up and Eddie noticed that they were practically wearing the same outfit, right down to the suspenders. The only difference, which Eddie could see as he got closer, was the quality. Everything looked perfectly tailored to him. Steve grabbed his jacket off the bench and slid it back on.

"Well then, you'd best get back to your uncle. I wouldn't want you to set off any fires."

"And you? How does a mobster spend a lovely afternoon like this?"

"Steve?! Hey Steve! Where are you!?", Tommy's voice rang somewhere in the distance.

"Helping his friend find his way out of a maze that he's been doing since he was ten", Steve sighed.

Eddie shrugged. "Eh, so mazes aren't his forte. Everyone's got their strengths."

"And what would you say are yours?", Steve asked, tilting his head.

Eddie heard footsteps approaching and decided to be just the smallest bit bold. He took a few steps closer to Steve, so that they were almost toe to toe. He wondered if it spoke to Steve's confidence in holding his own in a fight or if he just knew he could have Eddie killed no problem that he didn't flinch or take a step back.

"I'm good with my hands", Eddie said, patting Steve on the chest just as someone shouted "Hey!"

Eddie took a step back and there was that girl from before. She looked ready to beat Eddie with a stick but also scared if she'd have to do it. Eddie kept her from having to make the choice and stepped away from Steve, hands up and clear.

"I'll be taking my leave now, Mr. Harrington", he said with a slight bow.

"I'll be seeing you, Mr. Munson."

Eddie turned and left, finding his way out of the maze with ease but not before running into Tommy and pointing him in the direction of a dead end. He'd figure it out eventually. And if not, well the Marini staff had to be pretty good at disposing of bodies.

Back in the center, Steve was still staring at the spot Eddie had vacated.

"Hello? Earth to Steve? That was Eddie Munson? Seemed pretty handsy."

Steve patted the pocket on his jacket and took something out. One of the crystal figurines that were around the house. This one, a dolphin. Steve's lips curled up in a smile. "Yeah. That was Munson. Come on, Robin. I need to talk with my father."

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

Eddie and Wayne didn't talk the whole way home, except for Eddie asking if they could stop by the deli first. Talking with Steve had gotten him hungry for it. And Wayne looked like he had something on his mind. Almost as soon as they got home, the phone rang and Wayne got on, talking for at least a half an hour. It seemed important, so Eddie stayed put in the apartment, giving him privacy but keeping himself available.

Wayne hung up with a sigh and rubbed his face. Eddie was in the middle of ironing clothes for both of them.

"What's up?", he asked.

"You're being sponsored", Wayne said.

"....What?"

"Sponsored. You. To be in the family."

Eddie nearly dropped the iron in his shock. He cursed and turned to unplug it and get away from the hot metal. "I'm being sponsored? When?! By who?!"

"Now don't get all excited. Initiation is going to be some of the hardest work you'll ever do. And even then, it's not a guarantee you'll get in."

"But this is good, right?! If I get in, we'll both be part of the family! We can get out of this crummy apartment and afford more than one suit and-and pay off our debts and our lives won't suck! We can break the Munson curse!"

"Ain't no curse, how many times I gotta tell you that?"

Eddie frowned at him. "Is that why my mom's life was all daisies and butter when she met my dad?"

"'Daisies and butter'?"

"People say that."

"Who? The ladies down at the bingo parlor?"

"You're doing that thing. You're making jokes", Eddie pointed out.

"Well who do you think you get it from?"

"Wayne...I want to do this. I can do this. And if we're both bringing in the big bucks, we can make our lives better. Even without the curse, that's a fact."

Wayne sighed and sat down on the couch heavily. Even he was thinking a new one would be nice. But at the cost of his nephew? He looked up at him, eyes sad.

"I never wanted this life for you."

Eddie sat down next to him. "A little late for that. So who's my sponsor? Is it Swirly?"

"Well that's the strangest thing. For whatever reason, the boss' son himself said he wanted to sponsor you."

"Steve?", Eddie squeaked.

"Oh he's 'Steve' now, is he?"

"He's always been-okay don't give me that look I haven't-we haven't... I talked to him once, well, technically twice, but you were there the first time! And nothing happened the second time. I have witnesses! Uh, they only saw part of it, but I-you-you're messing with me, aren't you?"

"About Steve Harrington being your sponsor? No. But I'm enjoying watching my nephew get in a tizzy over a handsome omega. Just make sure you don't ever forget who he is", Wayne reminded him.

"Oh trust me, I won't. He looks like everything touches turns to gold. Too rich for my blood."

"It's not even really about him. It's about his father. And what he could do to us if he thinks we've stepped out of line. And I know how you like to toe the line."

"With the trained expertise of a ballerina~"

"You get that from your father. And he tripped up and landed himself behind bars. He got off lucky. Cross the Marinis and they won't be so generous", Wayne warned.

"Got it, putting the pointe shoes away." Eddie knew this was no small gesture. Being sponsored meant everything. Something he said or did must've resonated with Steve. Or maybe this was still a bored, rich omega game. Either way, he wasn't going to waste this chance.

Part 4

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #a/b/o

159 notes · View notes

waterfire1848 · 7 days ago

Note

AU where Azula is shipwrecked and stranded on Kyoshi Island at age 8 and grows up as a Kyoshi warrior.

Hello, anon!!

1. Instead of Azulon calling for Zuko’s head, he calls for Azula’s. He sees how much more this would hurt Ozai and, in his mind, if Ozai and Ursa had one prodigy they can have another. (What a great grandpa). Azula is terrified and fears that her mom wouldn’t help her so she flees the palace. She gets down to the shipyard and sneaks aboard a ship. She thinks they’ll just take her to some island in the Fire Nation where she can lay low but the ship is sailing towards the Earth Kingdom. Sometime during the trip, they got caught in a massive storm and Azula is still hiding below. The ship is torn apart and Azula clings to whatever floating piece of wood she can find, passing out soon after. When she wakes up, she hears voices and sees some people in green clothing. (Voice: Is she dead? Voice: I don’t think so. Where do you think she came from? Voice: Girls, back off! We need to get her to the healer. Voice: She’s an outsider. Voice: She’s a child! Azula: Mom? Zuzu? Voice: Not mom. It’ll be okay. Just breathe). Azula passed back out soon after.

2. When Azula wakes up, she finds that she’s in a small wooden structure with a couple beds. She’s been to enough peasant villages to know that this is probably a healer’s hut. She’s also alone for the time being so she takes the opportunity to look around and finds a lot of objects from the Earth Kingdom as well as a bunch of stuff honoring Avatar Kyoshi—a treasonous thing in the Fire Nation—so Azula quickly puts together that she’s in the Earth Kingdom she just doesn’t know where exactly. (Healer: Someone’s anxious to get up. Azula: Sorry. I wasn’t trying to steal like some common thief. Healer: I didn’t think you were, dear. You’re just being curious. It’s good to see you up and about. Azula: Yes. I-Where am I? Healer: This is Kyoshi Island. Azula: Where is that? Healer: You're a very curious child, aren't you? We can discuss the island a bit more after you've had something to eat.) Azula is brought food and water while she's being nursed back to health. After about a week or so, Kyoshi Warriors and the village leader come to see her and ask who she is. Azula, having just escaped one person who wants to kill her, lies and says she's a war child who was abandoned. The warriors have no reason to doubt her and they don't want to send her back to the Earth Kingdom by herself so they allow her to stay.

3. Once she's well enough to walk through the village, Azula is told that she'll have to work if she wants a place here. Azula agrees because, in her mind, she's assuming that she'll escape very soon. Sadly it's not the best working conditions since the other girls her age avoid her for being half Fire Nation and there aren't a lot of other kids to hang out with on the island so Azula is mostly left by herself. One day, Azula notices everyone going to steal steamed buns from the kitchen. The village leader catches them and demands to know what they're doing. Before Suki can give some half baked lie, Azula rushes in and says that she asked them to meet her in the kitchen because she doesn't know how to make a lot of food from Kyoshi Island and wanted them to show her how. The leader buys it and leaves them be. (Suki: Why'd you help us? Azula, grabbing the basket of steamed buns from her: Mine. Suki: Hey! You can't have all of them! Azula: You would have gotten caught if not for me. I deserve all of them. Suki: No, you don't! You have to share! Azula: Why should I? Suki:....We'll let you join our club and learn really cool fighting moves. Azula:....What kind of fighting moves are we talking about? Suki: The super secret ones that only people from our island know. Azula: I suppose that's a decent trade for a few steamed buns.). And that's how Azula officially becomes a member of their little group. As time goes on, Azula comes up with reason after reason for why she doesn't escape. Finally, after celebrating her tenth birthday on the island, Azula realizes that she doesn't want to leave. She likes her friends, she likes how the adults treat her with kindness even when she makes a mistake, she likes that the older girls are kind but firm when they correct her---no fireballs that she has to dodge this time---and she gets to fall asleep next to her friends without fear that someone is going to kill her or stab her in the back for political power. Kyoshi Island has become her new home.

4. Years pass and Azula remains on the island. She, Suki and their group become Kyoshi Warriors and get the war paint, dresses and fans that go along with it. Azula and Suki are by far the most skilled fighters of the group and constantly fight one another mostly for fun but also to show off. One day, the two are fighting when they hear a loud animal roaring and see something land on the beach. They make their way out there to find the Gaang and capture them. Azula is not a huge fan of Sokka, especially since he’s taking all of Suki’s time, but she puts up with it long enough for them to leave the island. When Zuko arrives, Azula recognizes him instantly and, because of that, she really relies on her makeup and dress to keep her hidden. (Although Zuko swears one of the Kyoshi Warriors called him Zuzu). A couple weeks after Team Avatar leaves, Suki wants to travel and help other people which Azula is very much against. The other warriors still don’t know who she is and she fears that leaving the island will be how they discover that. Suki does talk her into it and the Kyoshi Warriors leave the island.

5. Since Azula is on Suki’s side, she’s never captured and they help Appa get to Ba Sing Se and reunited with Aang. While in the city, Azula runs into Zuko without her makeup on and he recognizes her. Azula ends up returning to his and uncle’s apartment and admits everything to them from Azulon ordering her death to her life on Kyoshi Island. Zuko tells her that when she disappeared she was declared dead a few days later. The palace mourned—he and Ursa mourned the most—but Ozai was eventually named Fire Lord. (Zuko: I-I still can’t believe you’re alive! Azula: I live to amaze. Zuko: Mom will really be amazed when she sees you and dad- Azula: Woah, hold on. I’m not going back. Zuko: What? What are you talking about? Azula: My place is here with the Kyoshi Warriors. Zuko: You’re the Fire Nation princess. Azula: Was. Was the Fire Nation princess. Now I’m Azula: the Kyoshi Warrior.) Azula ends up without much of a choice when Ozai arrives (working with Long Feng because he would definitely work with Ozai). Zuko doesn’t get the credit for capturing the Avatar but he does get credit for returning Ozai’s prodigy to him. When Ozai takes back both his children and captures the city, he kinda brings Azula in front of everyone who’s captured (including the Kyoshi Warriors) and reveals her as the Fire Princess. Suki and the other warriors to see Azula as the Fire Princess. (Azula almost breaks down when she sees how betrayed and angry Suki looks). She’s taken away before she’s allowed to explain anything to her friend. (Ozai: Azula! Azula: Father, I- Ozai: Come. Azula: But- Ozai: Did I stutter? Follow me or that little group of peasants you were running around with is ash. Azula: No! No, don’t hurt them! Ozai: Pathetic. You’ve become weak, Azula. You’ve allowed yourselves attachments. Don’t worry we will fix that.) Azula is taken away by Ozai and (kinda) Zuko while Ba Sing Se burns around her.

(Ending here but here it is!)

#AU #azula #kyoshi warrior Azula #Suki #Aang #katara #sokka #zuko #Ozai #avatar the last airbender #send me an AU and I’ll write five headcanons

23 notes · View notes

lovemyavatar · 2 years ago

Text

STAR GIRL

| Lo’ak x F!Avatar Reader |

summary: training begins, you attempt to make peace with your old and new lives, but finding balance proves difficult

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Neteyam still kinda sucks, pretty long

dialogue in italics is Na’vi translated to English

chapter three chapter five

Chapter Four

Your feet have gotten tougher.

You can run faster, for longer. It still doesn't compare to even the children in the clan, but it's progress.

The feel of big ears twitching against your head is still foreign. They flick from side to side, trying to decipher the endless sounds emanating from the forest. You weave through the trees, leaping over fallen logs and overturned roots. The ground is warm, firm beneath bare feet.

Suddenly, Lo'ak jerks to a halt in front of you. Your chest hits a toned back, the air leaving your lungs from the impact. A curious gaze flicks over his shoulder, lips parting to ask what's wrong, but he lifts a hand to silence you. His ears shift as his head turns from side to side slowly. He's listening, you realize, waiting for something.

A moment later, a small figure bounds through the brush. You lurch back, heart in your throat. Lo'ak takes a large step to the side, arm extended to shield your body with his. You peer over him, tight muscles relaxing when you see a familiar face.

“Where are you guys going?” Tuk beams up at the two of you, bouncing on her toes.

Lo'ak lets out a rough breath, shoulders dropping. His fingers don't move from where they curled around your bicep protectively. “None of your business.”

You're quick to shove an elbow into his side, breaking free of his hold and stepping around his broad shoulders. You can't help but return his sister's smile. Her endless positivity is contagious.

“We’re going on an adventure.” You tease, ducking down a bit to meet her eyes.

They instantly widen, small mouth dropping open in wonder. Lo'ak's face rolls toward the sky, eyes pinching tightly. That's the worst thing you could've possibly said. Now, she'll never leave the two of you alone.

“I wanna go, I wanna go, I wanna go!” Her high-pitched voice echoes through the trees. Some kind of animal calls out before scurrying away, leaves rustling in its wake.

“No.” His response is firm, immediate.

“I’ll tell mom!” Her little brow furrows, fists clenching at her sides.

“Mom’s the one who sent us, crybaby.” Lo'ak mimicks her whiny tone, head dipping to accent the insult.

Her face scrunches even tighter, nose wrinkling in a tiny hiss. “Penis face!”

A hand comes up to cover your lips, stifling the surprised gasp and laughter that bubbles in your chest.

“Go home. Or I’ll tell mom.” All amusement is gone from his voice as he barks out the order.

Your lips roll inward, gaze flicking between the two siblings. You have to assume this kind of argument is normal. Not only are you an only child, but you were never exposed to kids your age while growing up. Petty disagreements like this just weren't a part of your universe. Sometimes, the Sully's interactions seem harsh to you, though it's obvious they have a deep love for one another.

Tuk's tongue pokes through her lips in defiance, tiny fists still clenched as she turns to stomp away. Once she disappears from view, Lo'ak shakes his head with a sigh.

“Sorry, she's so annoying.” His eyes meet yours apprehensively, as if afraid you'll be upset with him.

“I think she just wants to be like you.” Your voice soothes encouragingly, fingers lightly smoothing down one of his arms.

She's just a child, doing what children do. You've noticed that sometimes, there doesn't seem to be much room for childhood within the clan. Of course, they're allowed to run and play. The forest is like one huge playground, obstacles and adventure around every corner. It's probably heaven for any kid.

But in the same breath, they're expected to contribute to the clan as any other member would. They hunt, practice archery, have chores around Home Tree. Even Tuk always has her dagger slung across her chest, a pointed weapon she carved herself from the wing claw of an Ikran.

She isn't always given permission to be a child, and it tugs at your heart. It's why you're softer with her, despite the way the rest of the family seems to treat her as an equal.

“That's worse.” Something dark flickers behind Lo'ak's eyes as they meet yours. In an instant they're gone, his arm slipping from your gentle hold.

He walks forward, expecting you to follow. You can't help but study his retreating back for a moment before complying. He has these moments, these little flashes of emotion, where he exposes his inner turmoil. He's always quick to squash them, tell a joke or convince you to play a game as a diversion. But you see him, see through the tiny glimpses he's given you.

He's hurting, holding onto a source of pain that continues welling inside. If he doesn't open up to someone, you fear, it'll eat him up until nothing else is left.

Eventually, your feet scurry to catch up. The two of you walk in comfortable silence for several minutes. Subtle glances confirm the gradual unfurling of tense muscles until he's back to the upbeat Lo'ak you've come to expect.

You arrive at a dense section of trees, littered with thick vines. They almost consume the rough bark, twisting and curling all the way up into the leaves at the top. Wordlessly, Lo'ak hoists himself up onto a low hanging branch. Once he's climbed another two levels, he extends a hand down to you.

Several minutes later, your sore feet catch on a huge vine. Your chest heaves from the exertion of climbing up such a tall tree. Beside you, Lo'ak's breathing is completely even, unphased by the effort. He turns to face you, arms still connected to yours from the final pull he'd used to get you up.

Long fingers tickle the underside of your forearms as he helps stabilize you. His lips pull into a wide grin, eyes twinkling with something mischevious.

“Ready?”

“For?” Your voice is pointed with confusion, he hasn't told you what you're up here to do.

He starts slipping away, walking backward slowly, and you panic. Your fingers dig into his arms as they tighten, fear straightening your spine. Wide eyes flick up to his in question. The only response you get is another dazzling smile.

“You're it.” He practically rips his arms from yours, skipping several large steps away from you.

“Lo'ak!” His name is a desperate plea as a gasp rips up your throat. Your arms flail to the sides, body wobbling for several long moments before finding stability once again.

You look at him incredulously and he laughs. The skxawng (idiot) has the nerve to stand there, now too far to help if you fall, and laugh.

“Come on, tag me back.” He walks backward without a care in the world, as if he isn't hundreds of feet in the air.

A trembling breath leaves your lungs and you realize you're shaking. You've never been particularly afraid of heights, but you've also never been forced into a tight-rope act above massive treetops. A gulp scratches down your throat as you lean to the side carefully, gaze barely rounding the vine when Lo'ak's rough voice makes you lurch upright.

“Don't.” He says sternly, head shaking. “Don't look down. Just look at me, and trust that your body knows what to do.”

You instantly obey, something about the deep cadence forcing your eyes to meet his. He nods encouragingly, beckoning you closer with playful fingers.

Slowly, one foot lifts. You squash the rising urge to look down, holding your gaze steady with his. When skin meets rough bark, a fraction of tension releases. You do it again, and again. Tiny, cautious steps until you've almost reached him.

When you're mere inches apart, he bounces several long steps away, putting more space between you. Your eyes narrow and you stop, arms moving up once again to keep yourself upright.

“Now do it like you mean it.” Long arms cross over a broad chest, looking every bit his father when he gives the same command.

Despite steadily rising irritation, you know this is what he's supposed to be doing. He's teaching you, pushing you past the point of comfort so you can learn the Omatikaya way.

Your eyes fall closed for a brief moment, simply absorbing the input around you. The strength of the wood beneath your feet, the call of Ikran and other flying creatures in the sky above. Wind caresses your exposed skin, but you suddenly feel more stable.

In an instant, your eyes pop open and you run.

You don't stop until you crash into him. He's ready for you, waiting with open arms. They wrap around you instantly, keeping the two of you upright. A victorious laugh echoes through the trees as your face turns toward the sky. You can't help but throw your arms behind his neck, excitement making your heart soar.

“I did it!” You shout, and he beams.

Glittering yellow eyes meet, heat surging in your chest. Lo'ak's heart thrums against his ribs harshly, and he pulls away, afraid you'll be able to feel it.

Each time you accomplish a new feat, pride swells within him as if he's done it himself. The fact that he's the one that gets to teach you, gets to watch you learn how to thrive in the clan, it still feels too good to be true. It's like a shiny new present every day, a tiny reminder that he doesn't have to be the family screw up. That he can still do something good.

You don't stop running the whole way back to Home Tree. Now that you've faced this fear, proven to yourself that your body is capable, you move with a gentle swiftness. Lo'ak is still faster than you, but you've started closing in on his back, a surety in your steps that wasn't there before.

The moment you enter the bustling center of Home Tree, curious heads turn. Lo'ak watches you shrink, the carefree version of you it seems only he gets instantly dormant. His chest tightens, and before he can think better of it, he's grabbing your hand, pulling your attention away from the crowd.

“Hey, meet me at our spot tonight? After eclipse?” Hooded eyes watch you hopefully.

The words barely register over the echo of our spot, our spot, our spot in your mind. Something flutters in your stomach, a soft smile wiping away any brewing anxiety. A small nod is all the confirmation he needs to bound away, practically skipping with each step.

Change is difficult.

At times, seemingly impossible.

When you were still you, things were different. You woke up at the same time every morning, stared at the unobtainable beauty of Pandora from behind a thick window, and studied the world you thought you’d never fully experience.

Now, you have a front row seat. And it still somehow isn’t enough.

“Damn, did you get taller?” Meg’s beaming face appears as she shoves the heavy lab door open.

“Ha-ha.” You duck through the tight space, eyes flicking over the area quickly.

Sometimes, you just have to confirm that it’s still here. That this part of your life still exists in some capacity.

It’s been a week since you've had the chance to visit. With Jake and Mo’at constantly on your tail, it’s nearly impossible to find the time to sneak away. It’s nearly lunchtime now, and the clan is distracted by the meal preparation. You figure you have about an hour before someone notices you’re gone.

Your gaze settles on a collection of boxes near the far corner, back straightening with excitement. “Another shipment?”

Meg nods, her smile widening. She practically runs toward the goods. When you still worked and lived here, it was never a given that you’d receive the supplies necessary to keep going. When you did, it was always a cause for celebration.

“It’s a good one too. They sent plenty of food this time, and a bunch of new equipment.” She digs through a large box quickly, head disappearing behind the material.

“And look what finally came in.” Something small rests in her open palm as she skips toward you.

Your eyes widen at the sight of the small necklace and matching ear piece. You pinch it between large fingers and bring it closer for inspection.

“Have you tested it?” Your eyes flick to hers, wide with anticipation.

“Yeah, they work great. The range is incredible.” She turns suddenly, as if just remembering something. “Oh! And I finally found your journal. You had a damn good hiding spot this time.”

You fiddle with the neck microphone, lips pulling into a small smile. The lab has been waiting months to get these in. They're a great resource when out on the field, allowing everyone to maintain contact even from far distances.

Now, more than ever, you're grateful for the arrival. It's a lifeline, something to provide some stability—maybe even some comfort—if you aren't able to make it to the lab. Meg approaches you slowly, pulling your hands outward so she can place the bound pages of your journal into them.

“We're okay, Y/N.” Her gentle voice pulls your attention back to her. Your eyes meet hers, uncertainty clawing at your chest. “You've been dreaming about this your whole life. I just...I don't want to to worry about us.”

Your stomach twists uncomfortably. Her encouraging words sounding a lot like a thinly veiled we don't need you anymore. You fight a frown, instead forcing your lips into a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

She shakes her head, a wide grin taking over her features. “Anyway, enough serious shit. Tell me all about your adventures.”

You sit with her for awhile, spilling every detail possible. Your heart sings at the familiarity, the comfort of gossiping with someone you've known your whole life. Someone who practically raised you. But still, there's a small voice in the back of your head, whispering that it just isn't the same. That it will never be the same again.

Wide eyes trail the gradually eclipsing sun, a silent curse forming on your lips. Jake and Mo'at are definitely wondering where you are by now, something you really wanted to avoid. It was difficult to leave Meg, to leave the comfort of the past, and you ended up staying much longer than planned.

When you're at the last turn before reaching Home Tree, something barrels through the brush, slamming into your side. You stumble, legs buckling, the small leather satchel Meg gave you to carry your things tumbling from your shoulder. It clatters to the dirt, contents spilling everywhere.

“Shit, sorry.” A familiar voice murmurs, instantly crouching to pick up the items.

“Kiri?” The name raises in question as you bend to her height, grabbing your journal first.

She hasn't missed meal preparation once since you've been here, always following her father's orders to aid the elders around the raging fire in the center of the gathering area. That, plus the fact that she was running through the forest in such a frantic way, has you wondering what she's been up to.

“Oh, hi Y/N.” She chirps, back straightening under your scrutinizing gaze. Her eyes flick to yours briefly before returning to the microphone and earpiece in her upturned palm. “What is this stuff?”

“Oh, it's really cool. That necklace there is a microphone. You, ah, you talk into it and then you put that thing in your ear so you can—”

“Wait, these are sky people machines?” Her head suddenly snaps up, narrowed glare slicing through you.

You sputter silently for a few seconds, thrown off by her change in demeanor. “Well, yeah. It's not dangerous or any—”

“Y/N, you cannot have this here.” She hisses, glancing through the bushes and into Home Tree where the clan bustles.

Confusion pinches your brows. You hadn't even thought about it being a problem. Maybe the clan isn't as open to technology as you'd hoped.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean any harm...” Your hand extends toward her, hoping she will return it at least. You really need a way to keep in touch with the lab.

One of her ears twists to the side, just before her head follows. Her eyes blow wide in alarm, and she hastily grabs your bag off the ground. She shoves the necklace and earpiece inside before slamming it into your hands and jerking to her feet.

“My father is coming. You cannot tell him you have this, or that you have been to see the sky people.” Her voice falls to a rushed whisper, tightened with anxiety as you rise to stand beside her.

“Wha—why?” Your heartrate doubles, confusion and alarm fighting between your ribs. The slight panic clouding her eyes worries you.

“He would not understand. None of them will understand. Please, Y/N, if you wish to stay here you will not—”

“Kiri!” Her name is a sharp rumble as a large figure approaches.

She straightens, muscles instantly rigid. She gestures to your satchel and you sling it over your torso, sliding the bag behind your back just as a tall shadow breaks through the foliage.

“Where have you been, baby girl? And have you seen—Y/N. There you are.” Jake comes to a halt before you both, expression softening at the sight of his daughter in once piece.

“Sorry, dad. Got a little lost.” Kiri's big eyes blink up at him innocently, and he melts with a rough sigh. Something passes between them, an unspoken message that has you wondering if the excuse isn't meant literally.

“And you? I thought I asked you not to go out on your own.” A tinge of that authority he seems to use on everyone but his two daughters returns, his voice deepening with cautious disapproval.

He's given you few rules since being invited into the clan. Keep your head up, don't cause trouble, and stay near Home Tree unless accompanied by an escort. Although well intentioned, it's suffocating. You aren't used to such communal living, where little to no alone time is normal. You need room to breathe, or you'll end up blowing up at someone and causing a scene. And that would mean breaking another of his rules.

Your lips part, ready to spill out some random words that may or may not get you into more trouble, but Kiri beats you to it.

“She was with me.” One of her arms lifts, moving to the side to cover you as if it would protect you from her father's wrath.

A large hand swipes down his face, eyes tightening in irritation. His head tilts back, a long breath releasing through pinched lips. He spares a quick glance over his shoulder before his attention returns, flicking between you both.

“Alright, but I don't want anymore of this sneaking off crap.” He points an admonishing finger at you, then moves it toward Kiri. “If your mother asks, you're grounded for two days.”

A grin splits her lips and with a playful roll of her eyes, one of her arms loops through yours. She pulls you forward, jumping up to land a quick kiss on Jake's cheek with a quiet thanks, dad as her parting words. You squeeze her hand in silent gratitude once you're past him, and she shoots you a knowing look.

It's all you need to know as she separates from you, going her own way toward the Tsahik tent. You clutch your bag, sliding it back around to the front of your body, off toward your hammock to find a suitable hiding spot.

Fingertips poke at your scalp tenderly, a pained hiss leaving your lips.

It's been a few hours since your hair was tightly wound into fresh braids, and the throb hasn't yet subsided. The moment you reentered the busy center of Home Tree, Neytiri approached you. At first, weariness tightened your stomach, but her usual harsh glare had simmered to a dull irritation.

She told you it was time for braids, having noticed that keeping your loose strands tangle free had become nearly impossible. There was little time for a morning routine within the clan, as Neteyam waited impatiently to bring you to breakfast every morning. Your hair had turned into a cluster of mats, which the women of the clan none-too-gently combed out before weaving it into thin beaded strands.

“Lo'ak is so mean.” A small voice whines beside you, tiny shoulders slumping.

You can't help but chuckle, turning to place a gentle reassuring hand over hers. “I’m sorry you couldn’t come with us today, Tuk. He means well.”

The two of you are perched on a rock near what remains of the crackling fire. Light dances across the youngest Sully's forlorn expression as she pulls her hands from yours, instead clasping them together in her lap.

Most of the clan has turned in for the night, the sun's eclipse nearly complete. After finishing your meal, you enjoyed a few moments of peace before she totted her way over and plopped down beside you.

Her little nose scrunches in displeasure. “They always have fun without me.”

“How about the next time I go on an adventure, you can come with?” You peer down at her kindly, watching as she unfurls, a surprised grin splitting her lips.

“Really?” Her voice rises hopefully, and you can't help but smile.

Your lips part to assure that you'd love to hangout with her, but a rough voice interrupts.

“Tuk.” Her name is a sharp warning spit through clenched teeth.

Neteyam approaches, braids swaying with his hurried pace. She yelps beside you, jumping up from the rock. She lands behind it and crouches low, grabbing your shoulders to hide behind you as if he hasn't already seen her.

“I’m hanging out with Y/N. She’s my friend, ‘Teyam. I don’t care what you say!” Her voice squeaks, tone harsh.

Your eyes pop wide, unsure how to respond to the situation. You let her drag you from side to side as her brother steps to your right, then left trying to grab her.

“Home. Now. It’s bedtime.” He growls the command, coming to a halt directly in front of you. If his tight shoulders and clenched fists are any indication, he's already tired of her games.

You pat one of her hands lightly, eyes catching on his heated glare.

“It's okay, Tuk. I'll see you tomorrow.” Your voice is gentle as you tear your gaze away from his, murmuring the words over your shoulder.

She stands up sharply, letting out a little hiss at her brother. “You're meaner than Lo'ak!”

She stomps away with tightened fists, grumbling something under her breath. Your head shakes with slight amusement. She is definitely her mother's daughter. Neteyam turns to watch her, attention only returning to you once she's disappeared into the Sully family tent across the clearing.

“Stay away from my sister.” His jaw clenches, hardened stare boring into you.

Your back straightens, irritation bubbling in your stomach. With few others around, a surge of confidence rolls through you. He's been nothing but rude since the moment you met him, and it's starting to grow old. The constant glares and insults have kept you on high alert, nervous to make any mistakes for fear of retaliation.

“She just wanted to talk.” You explain evenly, hoping to keep the conversation cordial.

“She does not need to be talking to you.” His scrutinizing gaze sweeps down your form before flicking back up to your face.

Your skin warms with rising anger. Pressure mounts in your chest until you simply snap under the weight, unable to handle it for a second longer.

“Do you hate me just because of your mother, or are you capable of forming your own opinions too?” Your gaze sharpens to match his.

Normally, you would never dare speak out of turn to the future Olo'eyktan. But no one is around, and he's purposely provoking you. You've done nothing but try to fit in since the moment Mo'at extended her invitation, and yet, his opinion hasn't wavered.

His chin lowers, eyes narrowed into a deadly glare. He grinds his teeth for a long moment, lips twisting as if mulling over what he'll say next.

He never gets the chance as Jake emerges from their tent, eyes instantly falling on the two of you. He calls Neteyam's name sharply, no question having noticed the tension between you. In an instant he's gone, turning on his heel to promptly obey his father's command.

A tight breath slips past your lips, shoulders slumping as you lean forward, elbows resting on bouncing knees. Your head falls into waiting hands, feeling more weight than ever pulling you down.

Bioluminescence blooms beneath your feet with every step.

You leap over upturned roots and stray rocks, weaving your way through dense trees. Chirps and coos echo all around, making you feel a bit disoriented in the low light. You've rarely navigated the forest on your own at night, so it's all a bit unfamiliar. Still, you press on, knowing the destination is near.

Something rustles at your side, your quick strides coming to a halt curiously. Your ears twitch, head turning to watch a kenten (fan lizard) as it emerges from the small patch of bushes only a few feet away. Glowing wings spin it gently in front of your face. It wafts upward, as if propelled by imperceptible wind, disappearing into the trees above.

With a soft smile, you continue on your journey, the steady hum of running water guiding you. In no time you turn the last corner, fingers tentatively pulling back thick vines. Your warm gaze instantly catches on a familiar silhouette, illuminated by the soft glow of the earth.

He's sitting by the water's edge, feet submerged in the pond. You take a moment to study his back as you approach, watching the way toned muscles bunch. His ears twitch against his head just before it swivels toward you.

“You came.” He sighs, a tinge of surprise marring the words.

Your lips pull into an encouraging grin, hand resting on the place between his neck and shoulder. You don't know when this started. When these little touches became a normal part of your relationship. Somehow, over the last several days, the two of you have fallen into a comfortable rhythm. It's unspoken, a slightly deeper connection that's fostered naturally.

Fingertips dance across his skin, following your path to the open spot he's left at his side. He shivers beneath your gentle caress, hands tightening where they're clasped in his lap.

“Of course I did.” Your voice is light, not fully believing that he thought you'd stand him up.

“I have something for you.” He blurts, unable to wait a second longer.

You've barely settled into the earth, feet just dipping into the still water when your attention shifts to him. Big eyes round in surprise, intrigue glistening beneath the dazzling yellow. For a long moment, he's transfixed, eyelids growing heavy as something warms in his chest.

He clears his throat, tearing a lingering gaze away to glance at his hands. He opens them slowly, a sudden nervousness gripping his stomach. Your eyes drop to the bundle of leaves he holds, woven neatly into a small pouch.

He lifts it toward you, the gift resting in an upturned palm. You look from the package to him several times before taking it with some hesitation. He watches you eagerly, attentive gaze drinking in every minute flicker in your expression.

Your fingers move gently to unravel the thin leaves, slowly revealing the present inside. A gasp slips past your lips, one of your hands abandoning the bundle to cover your mouth. Your heart soars, thrumming wildly between your ribs.

“Oh, Lo'ak...” You can't stop looking at it, eyes flickering over each intricate detail.

It's an arm band, expertly woven and adorned with colorful beads. It's thin, light brown twine crossed in a strong pattern meant to last many moons.

“I, uh, I made it...for you.” He scratches the back of his neck, feeling uneasy. He hates that you don't have anything of your own, that all you've been given to wear are old discarded pieces no one else uses. He just wants you to have something that's truly yours, something to make you feel a bit more welcome within the clan.

“It's beautiful.” You whisper, glistening eyes catching his. He fights a smile, a tiny shrug lifting one shoulder. You're both still for a long moment, simply drinking each other in.

He swallows thickly, lower stomach churning. His eyes can't help but drift toward your lips, chest squeezing with an emotion he's recently become familiar with. He's seldom been able to keep you from his mind. His stomach is a mess, all twisted up, his heart racing more than it ever has in his twenty cycles around the moon.

“Put it on me?” Your gentle voice jerks his attention away, and he nods quickly.

He takes the accessory from your hands, winding it around the bicep you've extended out toward him. His fingers begin to shake as he knots the two thin strands he's left at the ends. It fits snugly, not too tight but firm enough to stay put.

“Perfect.” His voice drops to a husky murmur, heart jumping at the sight of his handywork against your skin.

His fingers wrap around your arm gently, thumb rubbing a soothing pattern beneath the twine. Your eyes drift up toward his, breath hitching at the intensity of his heavy lidded stare. His lips part, jaw tensing as his chest lifts raggedly. Your chin dips, one of your new braids falling in front of your forehead.

A tentative hand rises, fingertips ghosting your temple as he gently tucks it behind your ear. Your gaze returns to his, something palpable sizzling in the small space between you. Instead of taking his hand back, his fingers drop, curling around the side of your neck.

Your skin warms in both of the places he holds you. Sharp teeth snag your lower lip, heart fluttering wildly. His eyes instantly snap to the movement, restraint tightening his chest as he withholds a groan. It's all suddenly too much, too intense. The way he's looking at you, like nothing else exists, is overwhelming.

Your gaze drops to your lap, but he's quick to hook a thumb under the edge of your jaw, angling your face back up toward his. Glimmering yellow eyes burn a hole straight through you. Straight through any walls you've attempted to build. It sends a thrill up your spine, a shiver wracking your chest.

You need something to break this tension, something to calm the raging warmth exploding within you. But, even so, a certain apprehension tightens your stomach. His fingers smooth down the side of your neck, silently urging you to act. He trembles with anticipation, though he's hesitant to make the first move. He wants this to be on your terms.

You lean in slowly, planting a soft peck on his cheek. He stiffens beneath you, fingers twitching against your arm. You slide forward a bit more, lips smoothing over his jaw. A quivering breath fans your skin, his head tilting back at the feeling.

“You’re it.” The taunt is a low murmur against his ear, a callback to the game he'd played with you high above the trees earlier that day.

In an instant you pop to your feet, water splashing from the abrupt movement. Lo'ak's eyes jerk open, lips parting in shock. All he can do is sit for several long moments, frozen in place. His jaw is slack, chest heaving, racing heart thrumming against his ribs. He watches as you dart away, quiet giggle floating on the wind.

His lips slowly pull into a huge grin. He lets out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking his head before he's out of the water and chasing after you.

taglist:

@bajadotcom @darksxder @fanboyluvr @dakotali @kaymarnun @mxshrooms009 @violet-violenc @neteyamforlife @cleverzonkwombatsludge @dazecrea @lcovelymaria @faeraella @bxbyalixo @nurayastories @emoballs69 @little-bunnybabe @callsignhotshot @idga-fudgeicle @alexandra-001 @avidreader3107 @goddesslilithmoriarty @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @gwolf92 @danyxthirstae01 @dreamimix @dreamersbelieveinus @lovekeeho @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @abbersreads @jakesullyssluttt @keii-nn @hopelesslydevotedloser

565 notes · View notes

creepy-spooghetti · 2 years ago

Note

Heya dear fella! ^^

I was wondering... What about some platonic Hcs for BEN, Jeff, Helen and Toby (Sepparetly) with an early teen fem!reader (like 12-13 years old)?

Like- The reader is just this sweet, kind, caring child who is always trying her best to make people happy always with a smile on her face and make sure their okay (that goes for physical and mental) but is always the one everyone forgets about, the one that's always left out, the one that always fades into the oblivion.

And so one night (at likely 2 am) the creep in question just finds her sitting on the sofa and he, kinda shocked, asks her "hey, you 'kay?"

And then the reader just looks at him with a confused expresion until she starts crying and shaking her head no while saying "I never was!"

This is my kinda prompt :D

Thank you for requesting!!

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

BEN

In all honesty, this dude can be pretty oblivious to what's going on around him, especially when it comes down to peoples' feelings. So he genuinely took your blitheful front at face value and assumed you were alright! How could you not be? You seemed so happy all the time!

However, these false conclusions came crumbling down when he spotted you alone in the living room, sporting a blank expression as you stared at what was seemingly nothing. It was a concerning sight, to say the least. So he laid down the food he'd just raided from the refrigerator and walked closer, waving a hand in front of your face.

"Uhh...Y/n? A-are you, like...okay?"

The response he got was certainly not one he was expecting, and it took him greatly off-guard. He was not good at dealing with this sorta stuff, and the way his body stiffened significantly was proof enough of that.

Still, he wasn't about to leave. That would just be immoral. So he took a seat on the coffee table in front of you and tilted his head, letting you ramble on about how no one seemed to care about you even though you made it your #1 goal to ensure everyone else felt heard and accounted for. He held his hand up to halt your words and offered a sincere grin. "Hold up, hold up. I care about you. That counts for something, right?"

Jeff

He figured after seeing you around for a while that something had to be up with you. After all, nobody can be that happy 24/7. But you had never made any effort to signify that you wanted someone to acknowledge the potential struggles you had, so he kinda just shrugged it off with the thought, "if she needed comfort or something, she'd go to someone about it".

This theory of his backfired when he saw you looking so lost and saddened on the sofa, and it honestly startled him; what could have happened that made you so...gloomy? He had just returned from a mission, so his hoodie was coated with patches of fresh blood and his hair was messy, but he figured taking a shower could wait.

Hesitantly, he approached, raising a worried brow. "Y/n, hey. You good?" The glance that he received for that question made his stomach tense, and before he could really process it, you just started to cry, burying your face in your hands and explaining through tears how you felt ignored and insignificant. He blinked in confusion but sat down beside you nonetheless, resting his arms on his knees and leaning forward to get a look at your expression. His voice softened a bit.

"...Has this been happening for a while?" When you nodded, he huffed in contemplation, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Ya know, if you wanted help, you could've just asked. I know this place is chaotic, but bearing a burden like this alone is just not ideal. You gotta let people know how you feel. Otherwise they'll probably never catch on. They're all idiots."

You sniffled, and he gently patted your back, lacing a lighter tone into his words. "Feel free to come to me, okay? I know I can be an asshole but I promise I won't give you a hard time about it."

Helen

Like Ben, he's a bit unaware of what people are feeling, but only because he's always so lost in thought. From the way you carried yourself all the time, he was almost jealous of you. Why couldn't he be that content with his life? What was he doing wrong to prevent that?

He just kinda shut down for a few seconds when he noticed you on the couch, appearing solemn. What was he supposed to do? He's not a 'people person' by any means, and even so, the two of you were never very close. Then he thought back to that time he was being tormented by Johnny and you stood up for him, and a decision was made.

Hesitantly, he willed himself to walk over and sit a couple of feet away from you, staring at the floor and speaking in a low voice. "Are you...alright?"

"No. I haven't been. Not for a long time." It was difficult to comprehend, as you had never once acted miserable in the past, but here he was, and here you were, experiencing it. He listened unsurely to your venting without interruption, and when you tapered into a sob-brimmed silence, he took it as his cue to - albeit reluctantly - place a hand on your upper back and provide words of attempted consolation.

"...Sorry you've had to deal with that. If you want to...you can come up to my room and we can sketch or something? I have some extra supplies you can use. Just to...get your mind off of everything."

Toby

Toby is no stranger to feeling lonely or disregarded, except he never purposefully convinced people that he was 'okay'. He knew that you weren't what you seemed, however, and though he never attempted to further confirm this (he has his own troubles to worry about, after all), he still watched closely on occasion, as he's a naturally observant person.

Seeing you on the couch in the middle of the night rose questions within him, and he didn't put much thought behind the matter before stepping over and speaking with a muted voice. "What's wrong with you?"

"Everything," is what you mumbled after several moments, and he leaned away in mild alarm when you started crying. This was certainly a concerning thing to witness. Still, instinct kicked in, and he sat down close by your side, brushing some hair out of your face.

He didn't say anything, as he was never very skilled with verbal comfort, but when he realized that your emotional breakdown might last a while, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him, expecting to be pushed away, but you only reciprocated.

And like that, you stayed, until you settled down enough to uphold a conversation. Then he opened his mouth. "Hey... Jane and I are getting together tomorrow to play chess. Wanna join us?"

410 notes · View notes

garf-lover96 · 6 months ago

Text

Vesuvia Weekly; Baby Fever (Rowan and Julian)

so, excluding my one single moment of weakness, they would definitely remain childless since Rowan doesn't find the idea of having a full human child of his own all that appealing. so i kind of worked around it?? there's less than 1k words here and a little bonus!

———

"Rowan, dear, do you recall if we have any apples at home? We could make that pie together-" Julian moves his hand to place it on his partner's shoulder and stumbles when his palm doesn't meet anything solid.

Has Rowan just wandered off somewhere? Or was it Julian that accidentally left him behind? He stops in the middle of the street as his grey eye darts around, scanning the marketplace for any sign of the tattletale braid. Rowan really couldn't have gone that far. He probably just zoned out by a stall with some trinkets...

After taking just a few steps back the way he came from, he notices the magician hunched over something very small in a narrow alley. At the sound of steps, Rowan gets to his feet and turns around to face Julian. He's seemingly cradling something in his vest.

"There you are! You know, I was worried you've abandoned me..." Julian exclaims with a cheeky grin and his eyes fall on the small thing being cradled by Rowan. Oh, wow, it looks bald...

"What in the world... You have an infant in your hands-" Julian starts with a mortified expression—the implications of an infant being left alone in an alley obviously being disturbing—only to get cut off by Rowan's instant cackle.

"Don't worry, it's a cat!", he reassures with some tears of laughter lingering in his eyes, "Well, still a kitten, really. She waddled right up to me a moment ago." he gets the kitty out of his vest to present her to Julian. She mews happily, seeming in good health and well fed, despite her present alley situation. Julian relaxes visibly, exhaling softly.

"As for her baldness or why was she in an alley..." Rowan shrugs a little, not knowing how to continue.

"...I can't say I've ever seen a bald cat in Vesuvia, particularly. It's kind of a rare breed..." he brings his hand up to stroke his chin in confused contemplation.

"That's why you assumed she was an infant..." Rowan snorts softly.

"It's not like a bald cat is that much more likely to find in an alley! I've only ever seen a handful of them, even with all of my travelling experience."

"Do you think someone abandoned her?"

"I doubt someone would want to abandon a beauty like her. Look at all those wrinkles! She kind of does look like an infant." Julian reaches a gloved finger out to the kitty and she catches it immediately, which makes both men widen their eyes in a moment of pure adoration for the little creature. Now Rowan isn't so sure if he'll be able to let her go so easily if the time comes.

"That said, I think you would look radiant with an actual infant in your arms." Julian looks up at Rowan with a teasing smirk.

"Well, the concept of caring for something so tiny, raising it, watching it grow..." Rowan trails off and his face scrunches up in a small smile as he keeps looking down at the kitten.

"Ah, then again, if nobody comes looking for her, we could just adopt this little baldie...", Julian says, but then quickly dismisses the thought "But to my knowledge, her breed is quite expensive. There's no way someone would just leave her like that. I'll bet she just wandered off from her owner and they're looking for her right now."

As if on command, two figures come rushing through the marketplace, asking every person in their way about something and gesticulating wildly a kitten-sized shape with their hands. Noticing them, Julian takes Rowan's hand and pulls him out of the alley, the kitty still happily cradled on his forearm. The moment he locks eyes with the pair, they come running up with looks of extreme relief on their faces.

"You found our little troublemaker! Damn it, she's been like this ever since she first opened her eyes, that one.", the shorter figure remarks while the taller one fetches a coin pouch from their coat and practically shoves it into Julian's face, "You have to accept our thanks, we don't know what would we do if she got lost for good!"

Rowan and Julian look at each other, wanting to check if they're on the same page. The kitten is already squirming her way out of Rowan's grasp to get to the pair so there isn't any doubt about them telling the truth. But should they take the gold...?

"Ehhh, it's fine, really... She was a treat to babysit anyway, even if for just a short while..." Rowan plucks the coin pouch from Julian's hands and gives it back along with the squirming kitten, with a slightly somber expression on his face.

"But we very much would like to know the story behind this! What's a kitten of this... Bald sort doing in a place like this?" Julian asks with a smile, obviously already making small talk.

"Ha, we rescued her mother from a poacher! Though, we had no idea what we were truly signing up for. We assumed she was just fat..."

As Julian chats with the pair cheerfully, Rowan just listens with an intrigued smile, gazing at the little kitty longingly from time to time. The conversation continues until Julian manages to remember that they still have shopping to do. They all say goodbye to each other and the owners of the kitten walk off back the way they came from.

"Damn it, we didn't even ask for any of their names..." Rowan mumbles sadly and leans against Julian with a huff.

"And so the cat is gone... Now who's going to be the pregnant one, you or me?" Julian nudges his partner with a snort.

"Gah, you just ruined it for me..." he smacks him back with a flustered smile.

and the bald kitty herself. in italian

#vesuvia weekly #baby fever #garf lover96 creation #the arcana #julian devorak #i need to chill the f out and stop overthinking so much when i post these #oh boy how i love posting fanfiction online on my own blog

39 notes · View notes

iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 2 years ago

Note

I’m newer to tumblr but an Arcana Veteran so coming across your account is a blessing 😭 your hcs are really good and I look forward to your posts!! I had an idea that I never executed on my own and i thought I might as well share it, so here goes nothing 😋

How would the M6 react to MC changing something drastic about themselves?

To be more specific, say MC always had long hair, more of a coolheaded attitude, or were always quiet and polite. And then out of the blue they’re shutting everyone out, slowly erasing almost every trace of their presence and being off the radar for a few months.

The LIs are worried because not a single soul has seen them. And then they suddenly return, and it’s like a new person, but very obviously still themselves. Shorter hair or other physical differences, soft-spoken personality, etc. But they come back to the M6 regretfully, never saying what *did* happen.

Assuming what they had was some strive for change, depression, or something else, it may be hard to explain to their dearest, but they eventually will. All they want is to be home.

just a silly idea of mine ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC changes without them

~ thanks for the ask @vegaspng! Sorry it took me so long to get around to but here it is. I'm writing this to be similar to what it's like in the recovery stages of PTSD or chronic depression, because I live for that kind of bittersweet hope. To anyone experiencing ot hoping to experience this, best of luck! You're not alone! - brainrot ~

- a little backstory-

The Devil is defeated. Vesuvia is safe. And your loved ones are building a new life with you that promises to be better than anything you can remember. Which is why you have to leave.

You've learned so much about yourself, your past, even the body you have now, and you're not sure what to do with it yet. That aside, you took on responsibilities and accomplishments the likes of which no single person could reasonably hope to carry, and you pulled it off. You didn't have to do it alone either. But now that things are going back to normal, you're stuck drifting in your own brain because you have no idea what normal is supposed to be like.

Your beloved has been wonderful. They've shown more patience than you ever asked for, listening to you process for hours and doing their best to help. You've worked through who you were after being brought back from the dead, you've worked through who you became through your fight against the devil, but you still know nothing of who you started out as. Which means you're not sure who you're supposed to be now. And you don't want to build a new life without knowing who you're building it for.

So one fine morning, you pack a bag, arrange for your absence, and kiss your beloved goodbye with the promise to return.

The journey is difficult, but rewarding. You travel across realms both magical and human, collecting traces of your past and encountering moments of who you used to be. You don't recover all of your memories, but you get the important ones. You find out who you used to be. It's less than you thought, but it's more than you had, and it's enough to move forward. So you set your sights for home and return to Vesuvia.

Your loved one is overjoyed when you return. They have a little adjusting to do, you have some mannerisms you didn't used to and they can't predict your behavior in the same way. But they're quick to recognize that it's all still you. Slowly, they get to know all the pieces you're building yourself with and fall in love with each one. And as time goes on, you get to hear about the whole thing from their point of view as well. What was it like for them, when you left? And what does life look like now that you're back?

Julian

The hardest part of you leaving was trying not to take it as a rejection of his love for you

He knows in his head why you need to do this, hell, the reason he ended up in Vesuvia was because he needed his own journey of self discovery

He just has to fight off his own inner demons telling him that you're going to realize you're better off without him and not come back

Which, for someone who found the drive to keep his own life because it had you it, can be quite the struggle

And because he's actually quite intelligent, he recognizes that it's not good to stay dependent on you to be his sole purpose in life. That's not your responsibility to carry

So he keeps faith in your promise to return, and puts all of his energy into becoming a better man for you to come home to

He spends time with Portia, getting to know her as an adult and becoming the kind of brother she says she wants and not what he assumes she needs

He seeks out time with Nazali so he can continue his medical studies and get more mentoring

He reconnects with Nadia and puts his knowledge of public hygiene to use with her plans for Vesuvia

He even manages to build a healthy friendship with Asra (who also misses you) and resolve their past toxic situationship

It's not easy, but he wakes up every morning a little more ready to face the day

When you come home, he's over the moon. Nothing and nobody can replace the happiness you bring him

He notices your changes right away, but he's too relieved to know that you actually came back to focus on them

Once you're settled back in with him and it's more apparent, he has a raging battle of opinions in his head about whether he should ask you about it or wait

He ends up asking you extremely vague, open-ended questions just in case you want to talk about it, but not letting himself pry

As time passes, he gets to know more of who you are and you begin to tell him some of the things that happened on your trip

He's fascinated, asking questions whenever you're in the headspace to answer them and connecting dots with you

He's never had the zest for life that he does now. Every night that he goes to bed with you, he's already looking forward to what the next morning will bring

And the best part? So do you. The future has never so been so desirable as it is now

Asra

They completely understand where you are coming from. In fact, they were the one who suggested the trip

He didn't suggest you going by yourself though

In the end what they care about more than anything is your happiness and wellbeing. So they'll give you every piece of advice and connection and helpful item they have, and promise to watch the shop while you're gone

But oh, he misses you desperately

When they gave up half their heart, it was in the form of their ability to have connections with other people. You being in their life covers for that

The only person he had a strong connection with before you was Muriel. And when you died, he went into the darkest, most twisted headspace he'd ever been in and did things he couldn't later comprehend

Their decision to bring you back, and the way they did it, is something you two have talked about once or twice, but there isn't much else to do besides try to forgive them and make sure it doesn't happen again

But this time, you're not alone. Which means he isn't either

Every day for the next week, someone new drops by the shop at your request to check on them

First it's his parents. Then it's Nadia. Muriel. Julian. Portia. Selasi, the baker. Natiqa on her way through town. Even Lucio at one point, with an apology letter that took months to help him write

Every time they feel like packing up and taking off until you return, they remember their promise to stick it out for you

And slowly, he begins to stay for other people too. It doesn't hit him until one month in that for the first time in his life, he's a part of a community because he's wanted there and wants to be there, not because he's with you

You're still their anchor, but now they have ties apart from you that give them a semblance of home, family, and belonging

The moment you return he's dropping everything. He will maintain some form of physical contact with you for the next 48 hours

They're one of the only people who remembers you before the plague, and seeing glimpses of that in who you are now makes them so proud and happy for you

You don't have to tell him everything right away. Though he is going to apologize profusely for every time he left you for a long trip with nothing to do but watch the shop and wait for his return

For every piece and memory you're ready to talk about, they will give you their undivided attention and then lavish the new discovery with all the affection they have

Nadia

She's torn. On one hand, her greatest joy is providing for you, so seeing the way you have an unmet need and can't come to her to fix it is hard for her

On the other hand, she perfectly understands the need to get away from it all to find yourself

And she's perfectly aware of how dominant her personality can be. You having access to your own space is very important to her

So she'll make sure you have everything you need and offer every available resource to you, and let you go

It's hard at first. You had been the one to wake her from her sleep, you had been the one to bring back her faith in herself

So without you around, her old insecurities begin to resurface. She didn't grow up in Vesuvia. She wasn't even the active ruler until several months ago

There were literal demons serving as her courtiers and she didn't do anything about them until you called them out

How is she supposed to speak with confidence if she doesn't have you to back her up?

And that's when, slowly, people start to drop by, and she's finally ready to accept their support

First it's Portia. Then it's Asra. Even Muriel drops by briefly. Julian makes a couple of calls as well

And then, it's her sisters

First it's Natiqa, crashing her lonely dinners and making her laugh with her wisecracks

Then it's Nasmira, quietly sweet talking the more stubborn courtiers into compliance

One by one, and never more than two visitors in the palace at a time, each family member stops by, taking their cues from Nadia and being her backup

And little by little, every childhood memory that haunts her gains a new light

She still gets tired of them and feels stifled every now and then, but she doesn't feel alone any more

It soon becomes known that Vesuvia doesn't just have an incredible Countess, their Countess has an army of loving supporters

When you return, she takes the next few days off and trusts her support system to handle the city for a bit

She'll ask questions, but as soon as she senses hesitation she'll give you space

She sees all these new flashes of personality in you, and as much as her heart aches for your trials, it flutters as you become more yourself

She already knew you were a worthy companion, but as you share more and more she's left in awe of who you are

The world is not ready for the power couple you two are going to make

Muriel

He understood what you needed to do right away. Going on a trip in search of his roots was exactly what ended up saving him

And getting to know you in the process was a delightful bonus

But when he realizes you're going alone, he's undeniably hurt. He's not the type to be selfish, but you went with him on his journey. He was vulnerable with you and it brought you two together

So why don't you trust him the same way? Why won't you make space for him in your life the way he did for you?

It's tricky to answer, because he makes a fair point and because he's never asked you for anything like this before

You're eventually able to explain the difference, how your trip is about finding out who you are on your own terms, when everything you've gotten so far has been on somebody else's

It's still painful for him, but he'll agree and let you go. He's not afraid of being alone

Until, for the first time in his life, he gets bored and starts wondering if someone's going to come bother him

Which is completely new. He's never had that train of thought before in his life

The closest was when Asra stayed with him and he wouldn't know if they would be back late or not

But now the hut is almost too quiet. The bed is too big. The forest is too peaceful. The eggs are too bland

And so, after two weeks of trying and failing to fall into old habits, he goes into town, grumbling under his breath the whole way

The panic that Asra greets him with when he walks into your old shop is almost enough to make him turn around and leave

Muriel? In town? By himself? Without being summoned? The world must be ending!

When he's finally able to mumble something about just wanting to visit and pick up some spices, Asra shatters a teacup

He's never been the one to surprise them before. It's fun. He could get used to this

And so, visits to Vesuvia get more frequent. Usually to the shop. Often to the palace. Several times to the community theatre, without needing to hide in the rafters

He's so relieved when you get back. You can hold a conversation with other people much better than he can

He notices the changes immediately, but he doesn't address them at all. His only desire concerning you is to be your safe place

He's come to appreciate the beauty of human complexity, so seeing new layers like this in you is heartstopping

You never have to worry about opening up. If you do, he'll accept you. If you don't, he'll accept you. He just loves you for you

Portia

Not gonna lie, it triggered her a little

She knows how this goes. You get tired of your quaint little life, you go off on an adventure without her, and you leave her to rot where she can't reach or help you with letters full of empty apologies

The conversation you facilitate between her and Julian after that rant is one of the hardest things you've ever done, but it's worth it

After things have settled, she lets you leave and holds onto the hope that you'll be back

And while you're gone, she distracts herself with work. She's got boundless energy, she needs to put that to use so she can't think too much

And so begins the craziest three weeks of her life. From the moment she wakes up to the moment she falls asleep, she does nothing but work

Normally, you're her reason to take a break. You put her back in the main role of her own life so she can let her hair down and live the adventure she's destined for

But without you around, the only role she's used to playing is support. So that's what she does, to the point of completely forgetting about herself

It takes a burnout induced three day fever to make her pause. Especially when she begins to recover and sees the sheer number of worried faces in her cottage

Nadia's spending every free evening with her. Julian's sleeping over most nights. Mazelinka's covering the daytime with her mysteriously perfect soup and brandishing a wooden spoon to keep her in bed

It makes her realize two things. First, that while it looks different, she has her brother's tendency to take on the world's problems to avoid taking care of herself

And second, that you shouldn't have to be the solution to that

It's rough, but she learns self care. Not just an extra step in her skincare, but letting herself do something just for fun. Putting herself first

Learning to sit and do nothing without feeling guilty because nobody can make some kind of profit from it

When you get home though, it's like she can fully relax again. You give her an importance that she has to fight to hold onto otherwise

She has the hardest time giving you space. All the changes you've made are so exciting to her, she wants to hear all about your adventures and growth!

You'll have to tell her plainly that you're not ready to talk about it right away, and she'll be very understanding even if it's hard

Every time you open up, she'll hang on your every word. You two are the main characters in her story, and she can't wait for the plot to develop with you by her side

Lucio

He doesn't make it easy for you to leave

He doesn't mind you going on a trip! Trips are fun! And even when they're serious and scary, like what he had to do with you in the Arcana's realms, they're always better with a loved one!

So why are you trying to go without him? Who's going to protect you?!

And equally important, who's going to be with him?!

He's thoughtless sometimes, but he's not dumb. He knows he's a better man because of you

And he also knows that he's not perfect. Deep down under all that bluster and ego, he's still a kid who never learned to love

You helped him with that. You unraveled every tangled oopsie with him, you didn't flinch when you saw the worst of him, and then you picked up his forgotten heart and filled it up with love

So why else would you be leaving except because you finally realized that he's not worthy of you?

You're able to explain it to some extent. You need to go on a journey similar to his. Only you need to do this by yourself because it isn't about fixing oopsies, it's about finding out who you used to be

He'll let you go because it's what's best for you. And he believes you when you say you'll come back. But what he can't bring himself to tell you is how afraid he is that who you used to be won't be able to love him

When you kiss him goodbye, he resigns himself to it being the last he'll ever get

At first he sulks. He crashes people's parties and picks fights with every bandit he encounters

But when he has the option to get blackout drunk? Take all the goods from the bandits for himself on top of the bounty money?

He can't

You taught him the importance of taking responsibility for his actions. Well, you made him a good man. So you're going to have to take responsibility for that and give him the chance to prove himself worthy of you

Which he does. He wakes up early. He moderates his drinks. He does the jobs he finds. He saves the money he earns

When you get back and fling your arms around him, his knees buckle from relief

He can tell you've changed, but it's okay if you don't want to talk about it. He can tell you all the ways he's changed instead!

If you were worried about his reactions when you do open up, you quickly realize you don't have to be

He doesn't expect you to be perfect. All he wants is for you to be you, for you to be happy, and for him to be the one you choose to do that with

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana #asra the arcana #nadia the arcana #julian the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #portia devorak #muriel of the kokhuri #lucio morgasson #the arcana angst

281 notes · View notes