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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago

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if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom

summary: the strawhats are summoned back to baratie so sanji can cook for a high-class diner. they can't figure out why zoro is so nervous. (opla!zoro x you)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of food and eating, established relationship, pet names (sweetheart, doll, lover, pretty), spoilers if you squint, sanji being himself and zoro having absolutely none of it

note: this was requested by an anon a few weeks ago and i finally got around to writing it!! every time i write for zoro, i have a new favorite fic i've made because he's just so fun to write for. hope you enjoy!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“You know, they’re a lot hotter in person.”

“Shut your mouth, waiter, or I’ll skewer it closed,” he mutters with palpable distaste. Another swig of rum burns down his throat and, for the first time that the crew can remember, Zoro seemed nervous. It wasn’t obvious, but they’d sailed long enough to know that he never stopped surveying a room for threats, no matter how familiar he was with it. Today, though, the only thing that took his attention was the rim of his glass and he was subtly avoiding the eyes of the crew’s target. “This is the dumbest idea you’ve had in a long time.”

“Thank you for your input, Zoro. I will, however, be belaying it,” his captain replies brightly, unfazed by the blank expression of his first mate. The uneasy faces of his crew only makes him beam more, giddily excited for the anticipated challenge. “C’mon, guys. We’ll be fine. They just need to see how awesome we are and they’ll totally give us a new sail!”

“Loud, loud, too loud,” Zoro warns in response to the increasing volume of Luffy’s voice. They were already causing enough of a scene, as is, and he damn sure didn’t want other guests looking in their direction. To make matters worse, the amount of alcohol in the table’s bottle was dwindling too quickly for comfort.

“Hey, if we’re lucky,” Usopp offers, “we might just get a whole ship. You know, maybe one that Captain Usopp can command as the second ship in the Straw Hat fleet.”

“You think we’ll get a whole fleet?”

“Hell yeah. Maybe, we can all captain our own ships–”

“Alright, let’s get our heads out of the clouds,” Nami cuts in. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to get over there, in the first place. And just for the record, I’m with Zoro on this one.”

“First time for everything,” he deadpans. She smartly elects to ignore his sarcasm and continues to argue why the plan is a bad idea. The call from Zeff came at an opportune time and during an unfortunate situation when the Merry sailed straight into a torrential thunderstorm that ripped the main sail clean down the middle. Despite their best efforts to patch it up, it was beyond repair; with the Marines constantly on their tail, having a working sail was a matter of survival. Zeff’s reluctant summons for Sanji to cook for a special guest provided a means to buy a new sail and have a little extra spending money. But, in his wildest dreams, Zoro could not have predicted that the special guest was you. The smug look on the chef’s face snaps him out of his thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen, waiter?”

“Shouldn’t you be downing the rest of this bottle, drunk?”

“I’ll smash this damn bottle on your head, I swear–”

“No, no. Zoro has a point,” Luffy agrees. Sanji gives him an odd look and he quickly realizes what his statement insinuated. “Not about smashing the bottle on your head. We need you to bring them your food so then I can go over and talk with them.”

“You don’t think I can charm them on my own?”

“Don’t look so aghast, blondie,” Zoro answers and receives a knife-sharp glare in response. “This is not someone who will entertain your theatrics.”

“How would you know anything about them, hmm? I believe you’re a little too dead inside for their liking,” Sanji baits and Zoro’s on the verge of biting before Nami steps in again.

“Sanji, get in the kitchen. Let’s just get the money and get out of here.” Zoro silently thanks her in his head for effectively ridding the chef of the table for the time being. His gratitude turns into a grimace when she turns to him expectantly. “You’re gonna hate me for asking–”

“Then don’t ask,” he finishes. She doesn’t relent.

“How do you know them? It seems like you’re nervous about being here, but we’ve never met them before as a crew.” Hitting the damn nail on the head. “So, you must’ve met them when you were still hunting down pirates. Am I right?” He grumbles an unreadable response, but the slightly pink shade of his face tells the table everything they need to know. “You’re terrible at covering up secrets.”

“I don’t remember asking.”

“Ah, you’ve got him on the run, now. He’s deflecting,” Usopp chuckles, immediately shutting up when Zoro shoots him a deadly scowl. He hated that all of them were right and would never admit it to save his life. After all this time, seeing you still made his heart rate skyrocket and cause his hands to clam up with boyish nervousness. You were just as beautiful as the last time he saw you, instances that were too few and far between for his own liking. Your father would have a fit if he saw you in such an unregulated environment as Baratie, but he knew that you were safe. As long as you breathed the same oxygen, he vowed no harm would come to you.

“I met them when I first started hunting,” he admits and the words felt wrong on his tongue. Every nerve in his body was telling him to stop revealing his relationship to you. It didn’t matter if he’d almost died surrounded by his crew; his connection to you was sacred and something he was going to take to his grave. It was mostly for your safety, the late-night sneaking out and stolen displays of affection. In another life, he wouldn’t have to hide you from other hunters that wanted to see him fall. “Their father is a captain in the Marines. When I first met them, they were training with Mihawk. Their father wanted them to be the most feared Marine in the seas.” The jaws of his friends fell to the table and he knew how wild it sounded, a legacy Marine trained by a pirate lord. “But, Mihawk taught them more tricks than just swordfighting and their father fired him on the spot.”

“He taught them sympathy for pirates,” Nami concludes and he nods. “Why are you so shifty around them?” He shrugs half-heartedly and tries to make it look like his face wasn’t on fire.

“Just haven’t seen them in a while,” he states, zeroing in on the blonde asshole waltzing to you with a plate. Your surrounding guards stiffen, hands flying to the weapons at their belts. You, however, roll your eyes and tell them to stand down. He knew you hated going out with security because they were always watching, watching, watching. “Eyes up. The waiter’s making a move.”

A strange sense of nausea washes over him as he watches you smile politely at Sanji, laughing softly at his jokes and kindly nodding as he explains the dish to you. You trust them, Zoro keeps telling himself. That waiter doesn’t stand a fucking chance. All the reassurances don’t stop his gut from churning when Sanji does his signature lean-down-and-whisper-suggestively into your ear. To his surprise, however, you don’t immediately meet the chef’s eyes. Your attention flicks to Zoro, instead, with a look that he knows all too well.

Please get me out of this.

Despite the protests of the table, he’s standing in an instant and walking with his hands on his swords like your guards didn’t even exist. His sight becomes tunnel-vision on nothing but you and he bypasses your guards with ease. Your shoulders relax when he stations himself protectively behind you, much to the confusion of the chef in front of you. As subtle as he can, he rests his hand on the back of your chair, inching closer until he’s just barely touching your shoulder. It’s small, but speaks wonders for his presence.

“Zoro,” you murmur without looking up, your fingertips brushing against his knuckles. Your touch on his skin after so much time away feels electric.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sanji stiffens at the term of endearment so easily leaving Zoro’s mouth and you can sense the boost it does for his ego. “Whatcha got there?”

“My new friend was just telling me about the dish he made. He said he crafted it especially for me, with his own hands,” you inform him with a sly sparkle in your eye. His jaw clenches unconsciously. You knew exactly what was going on in Zoro’s mind and he knew it, too. “Apparently, he can work wonders with his hands,” you remark casually and you can hear the chair crack under the force of the swordsman’s hand gripping it. To your delight, Sanji’s face has also taken on a slightly darker shade of red at how crassly you echo his suggestion. And in front of his rival, no less.

“Was he, now?” His tone is lethal and it sends goosebumps up your arms. “Well, it best be time for him to get back in the kitchen, no?”

“Mmm, but he said he had a proposal for me–”

“I had one for you too, though I did ask you in a much finer establishment than this one.” You can’t help the smirk that spreads on your face and you have to look to the side to keep from laughing aloud. Zoro’s jealousy was rearing a very indignant head; you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it a little hot. “Got that stone on your left hand to prove it.” Sanji’s eyes darted to the band wrapped around your finger, a ring that looked suspiciously like the one hanging from a chain around Zoro’s neck. “Give us some time alone, yeah?” His question becomes rhetorical as he pulls out a chair next to you and tugs your seat closer until you can cross your leg across his. His palm rests possessively over your thigh and the chef gapes for a few moments more before turning back to the kitchen.

“That goes for all of you, please,” you order your guards without looking at them, absentmindedly tracing Zoro’s jawline with the back of your pointer finger. “Take my bag and buy however many drinks you want. I’m safe,” you state with absolute certainty. Once they’re gone, all you see, feel, and know is him.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you smile just as softly. “What’re you doing in a place like this?”

“I can ask you the same question, pretty.” His eyes shine with nothing but adoration. You forgot just how much you missed him.

“Took a detour to prolong my time at sea. I didn’t want to go home just yet.”

“Your old man’s being an ass again?”

“You know how he is,” you reply. “Why are you here?”

“Believe it or not, that blonde shithead is my crewmate. We’re here to get some extra Berry for a new sail.”

“Sail, hmm? I always knew you had a little pirate in you,” you tease and he sticks his tongue out immaturely. “Heard you fought my esteemed mentor. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking.”

“You don’t think I can beat him?”

“I don’t think I can fathom what will happen if you don’t,” you say quietly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Don’t do any dumb shit, okay?”

“You’re acting as if I’m already leaving you again.”

“Aren’t you?” Your smile is sad and it makes his chest ache. When he beat Mihawk and killed your bastard father, he was going to give you the life that you deserved.

“Not yet,” he promises. “I don’t wanna go yet.”

“I don’t want you to go, either. How much do you need for that sail?” He gives you a number and you don’t even blink. You just nod and reach into your coin purse, fishing around and deciding to just give him the entire pouch. “Will that cover it?”

“Doll–”

“It’s a yes or no question, husband,” you say with lighthearted sternness. He shakes his head in exasperation but can’t hide the grin painting his features.

“Yes, lover. It’s more than enough.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you hum in contentment. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Of course. D’you mind introducing me to the rest of your crew besides the flirty waiter?”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #zoro fluff #opla fluff #ask iris!#one piece x y/n

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hitomisuzuya · 1 year ago

Note

THIS HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD AS A THOUGHT ON LOOP FOR WEEKS

Scara being a horror attraction worker, you and your friends are walking around the attraction and you can’t help but feel like the pretty masked indigo haired boy is fallowing you and scaring you and your friends on purpose, getting a little to close as he comes up behind you and drags his fake knife down your neck. Or maybe when he whispers how good your doing at not screaming when he witnesses you jump a bit from a sudden scare

When you end up dragged away or lured by him don’t be surprised if he takes you right there and then <33

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Semi public sex. Fingersucking. Degradation. Reader is written as afraid of dolls because I am. Chucky the doll scares the shit out of me.

I love requests like this. 😳 Roma is all better now 😌

Scaramouche loves his job. He got to scare the snot out of people on a nightly basis. And he was good at it. If a scream count existed, Scaramouche had the highest count.

You had his attention almost immediately. You had a target on your back when several other people he worked with tried to scare you and your friend, but all they got was a slight quiver.

You were the type that had to incredibly caught off guard to get scared. He was all but licking his lips at the challenge. And he couldn't even begin to explain how aroused it made him feel.

Scaramouche hadn't been able to have this much fun in awhile because people were just so predictable. You sure were interesting though. He needed to know what made you tick.

He started with the usual, jumping at you from behind things. However, he seemed to get a little closer to each time. He wasn't relentless. At least not at first.

Scaramouche got little jumps or quivers here and there from you. That only made him more determined.

Never once did you scream.

He got an interesting sight at the part where you would have to go through a room with motion sensor dolls. Your eyes got really wide, shaking your head at your friend. "No, I can't. I'll meet you outside the door of the next room." You backed up a little, your face pale.

Scaramouche's eyes were glued to you. You even started to shake a little. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you. This just wouldn't do.

He couldn't have something else scare you. He has to be the one to do it. However, that didn't mean he couldn't use the situation to get your attention somehow.

Stepping out from around the corner, Scaramouche drug the blade of his fake along the wall as he walked by, locking eyes with you as he passed. His boss was going kill him for this one.

You thought his eyes cut right into your soul.

He walked into the room and promptly skewered one of the dolls with his knife. "Your in the way," He said, letting it drop to the ground. He pointed the blade of the fake knife at you. He was coming for you.

Little did you know in more ways in one.

And Scaramouche more than had your attention now.

He ramped up his efforts more than ever. Getting closer still. Until he got the closest of all. You didn't even see him coming. And truthfully, you started looking for him to come and scare you. You were starting to anticipate his scares, and when they didn't come like you expected, it threw you off.

That was just what he wanted. Because only then could he get this close to you. Like a hunter closing in on his prey. And you were the innocent little lamb.

You gasped startled. But you didn't scream. And that made him want you more. You shivered when he pressed the blade of fake knife against your throat. "What a good girl you are. You didn't even scream," God, he wanted to grind his twitching cock against your backside. Up this close to you he could smell how good you smelt.

It sent him reeling.

Scaramouche had to have you.

All of you.

Scaramouche set up a perfect lure for you. One that would send you right in his direction. He took the time to go back into the office and grab a big poster board. On it he wrote: One of you must go one way and the other another. Only one of you may come out on the other side to meet in the same place. Abandon hope all yee who take these separate paths.

Drawing a few ghosts and bats on the sign to make it seem like it had been part of the attraction the whole time, he hung it up outside near the wooded part of the attraction.

When you saw the sign, you looked at your friend. "I guess I'll see you soon," You kissed your friend on the cheek and headed down the path Scaramouche hoped you would.

If you hadn't, he still would've found a way to work it in his favor. You stopped, looking around when you saw no indication of which way you should go. Then you heard a familiar voice.

"Psht, come this way," Scaramouche said, curling his index finger at you in a come hither motion. A shiver went up his spine when you without hesitation walked towards him.

"It's you. Have you been following me? And what with that doll earlier?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shrugging, Scaramouche suddenly looped his arm around your waist, bringing your body flush with his. "I had to get your attention. So I took away the threat. I couldn't think of a better way to do it."

He wanted you. And you, you wanted him to.

His breath fanned across your lips, hovering there for consent. However, his hands were already wandering along your body to test the waters.

Nodding, you tilted your head up and kissed him. He parted your lips with his tongue, finally getting taste you. It curled and glided with yours, guiding you backwards up against a tree.

Scaramouche's kiss stole the breath right from your lungs, his mouth swallowing your moan as he lifted you to pin you against the tree. You were melting into the kiss. Melting into him.

Pushing your skirt up, he groaned feeling how wet you were as his thumb found your clit, pressing a damp spot into the lacy fabric. You mewled into his mouth.

This boy, with his hypnotic eyes and dominating tongue were swallowing you whole. He chuckled at your reaction, biting at your lips as he pulled away. "Already so wet. What a little slut you are," He purred, shivering when you moaned loudly hearing his degradation.

Grinding needily against you, he batted your hands away impatiently when you tried unbuttoning his jeans. Bracing an arm around you, he peeled your panties off, wasting no tip pressing the head of his leaking cock against your clit.

You gasped in pleasure, grinding against it seeking the friction on your throbbing clit. He groaned from how hard his cock throbbed, stopping all motion for a moment just to tease you.

You wrapped your arms around him, tangling your fingers in his hair. His lips hungrily captured yours again, swallowing your gasp as he pushed his cock inside of you.

It felt just as felt as heavenly as he imagined, his cock stretching your walls apart as he bottomed out inside of you. "I'll help myself to making you scream now," He hissed, pulling out to the tip before abruptly thrusting into your cunt all at once.

Every thrust kissed deep into your sweet spot. If your legs weren't wrapped around him, your knees would've buckled. Putting his lips close to your ear, soaking in your cries of pleasure as they got louder, he said, "You are all mine now."

Your fingernails clawed into the back of his neck, making him shudder in bliss feeling the sting. "So loud," He grunted, his hips snapping into yours, "what a whore." He couldn't get enough of it.

Drinking in the haze of fucked out bliss clouding your eyes, he pressed you harder against the tree so he fuck his cock deeper inside of you. "Open your mouth, slut," He growled, pushing the tips of his fingers against your lips.

Scaramouche had beautiful fingers. You opened your mouth eagerly, your tongue curling around them as you sucked. Your cheeks flushed, eyes melting into a look of utter adoration as he pushed his fingers into your throat.

Moaning, you choked on his fingers. "Good girl, such subservience," He pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth, transfixed on the way drool pooled around them.

"So tight..fuck, I'm cumming," His thrusts turned sloppy, his cock ribboning cum inside of you. The warm feeling of him filling you full made you squirt all over his cock. He held you against him, cradling you as you trembled from your orgasm.

Scaramouche relentlessly fucked his cum inside of you, a white ring forming his cock. You clung to him, rocking your hips into his. He didn't stop until he was satisfied.

You mewled when he pulled out of you. Setting you down, you had to lean against him because your body felt limp from the intensity of your lovemaking.

"Your name? What's your name?" You asked, resting your forehead against his.

He nuzzled his forehead against yours. "Scaramouche," He scooped you up bridal style, and you didn't notice until he did that your panties were in his pocket. "Can't have any leaking out," He chuckled when he heard your shy squeak.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #modern au #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche imagines

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lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer · 9 months ago

Text

Haunted

“You remind me of a man I used to know.”

I was watching the embers in the fire die, and the thought just came, out loud. The Ghoul chewed an unknown meat off the stick he’d skewered it on, not looking up to dignify my statement with even so much as a grunt. Maybe not then, I thought sadly. Maybe all the men like Cooper had died when the bombs dropped. I certainly hadn’t met a man like him since we’d said goodbye to each other at that party. Still, I continued.

“He was a lot friendlier than you – though I suppose actors are predisposed to high levels of charisma.” I smiled to myself from behind the handkerchief covering my face, thinking of how simple the past now seemed in comparison to the present.

“Actor?” It was first word I’d heard him speak since he told me to put out the fire that had cooked our dinner and it brought me from my daydream of my old life.

“Yeah, actor. One of the good ones, most of the time anyway.” I chuckled to myself, remembering the tantrums he used to have on set if something wasn’t entirely accurate.

“How would you have known an actor?”

“Well, if you must know, I was-”

I was cut off by a knife flying past my face and narrowly missing my eye, and then there was a body on top of mine, all flailing limbs and trying to stab me, grabbing a hold of my neck and head to hold me down. I grabbed the pocket knife hidden in my coat and wounded my attacker, before rolling the both of us over and pushing his face into the dying ashes. Their screams echoed out against the darkness of the wasteland, and I heard several gunshots. I took my pistol from my belt and shot whoever had tried to jump me in the back of his skull, letting him fall limply beside me.

I look up through the dying light to see the Ghoul surveying our surroundings, before looking down at me and I realised with horror I didn’t have the handkerchief covering my face anymore.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rosie Ryder,” he let out an audible laugh, “What are you doin’ out in the Wasteland?”

My face went bright red, and I huffed.

“Even after the apocalypse, people still just know me as the girl who played the hooker that got her titties out for Cooper Howard,” I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I’ve done other movies, you know.”

“Yeah, you were great in Under the Covers,” he chuckled again, “although for you that film must have mostly been about shooting all that kissin’ you did to the poor bloke. I bet his lips were chapped at the end of every day!”

“You a fan of Cooper Howard?” I asked, looking him up and down, “this get-up of yours seems pretty inspired by his work.”

“You could say that, Little Miss Ryder.”

I laughed bitterly and gestured down at the three bodies around us.

“We should probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight, in case anyone heard the gunshots.”

I checked the pockets of the bodies but couldn’t find anything other than a couple of caps and a gun with some ammo still left in it.

“No chems?” he asked, and I shook my head.

“No chems.”

***

As we continued in our direction, the Ghoul became more talkative.

“So, if you were Little Miss Rosie Ryder, you must be at least two hundred and something years old,” he began, “So how are you here right now?”

I shrugged.

“It’s a long, long story. We don’t got that much time, Ghoulie.”

Eventually we came across a shabby-looking shack that looked just about safe enough for the night and might potentially keep us safe from any radstorm that might decide to descend onto us. And maybe from any raiders, too.

The Ghoul went in first, checking the inside whilst I set a bear trap up in front of the door, before following him inside. It seemed as if someone might have been living here for a bit – there was a sofa and a little table, as well as a small counter with what looked like to be a broken-down hob. No signs of life anymore, though. Everything had a thick layer of dust coating it, and any essentials seem to have been hastily removed when the last occupier had left.

“The walls seem pretty sturdy and the roof’s secure,” he said, “did you put a bear trap outside the door?”

“Yeah, don’t wanna take the risk we did earlier.” I sighed. “Still, can’t help but think we’re still sitting ducks if someone breaks in. We’re not exactly in the safest area – I know at least two Raider groups who have bases nearby.”

“They’ll break in and come face to face with my pistol aimed at their skulls, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I’m ‘sweetheart’ now, am I? Now that you know what I look like under all these clothes?”

The Ghoul stepped closer to me, the shadow of his hat towering over me.

“Maybe I jus’ appreciate those actin’ skills of yours,” he murmured, “on top of that fine figure.” He stepped back from me and sat down on the sofa, slouching.

“I’ll take first watch, Little Miss Rosie. I’ll wake you in a few hours and when the light comes, we’ll continue, and you can tell me that long, long story of yours.”

***

Susie Wellington was coiffuring my hair for my first scene, as I sat tugging on my cotton skirt trying to psyche myself up for the scene ahead. We’d rehearsed it a bunch of times in table reads but this was the real thing – closed set and all.

“Susie, I think the leading lady’s hair’s done up enough for now,” came a voice from the corner, “and you should be making your way back to the dressing rooms. I’m sure Little Miss Rosie Ryder here doesn’t want another cast member staring at her tits.”

I looked up in relief as Cooper appeared beside us, cigarette in hand. Susie didn’t look to happy about having to leave her creation as it was, but only pursed her lips and bid me goodbye.

“You excited for your first scene, Little Miss Rosie?” he asked, and I felt a strange sense of deja vu come over me at his words. I ignored it and put a shaky smile on my face.

“I’m excited to get the nudity outta the way, that’s all I’m gonna say!” I giggled a bit, and he laughed alongside me.

“Well, there’ll be a barrier in place of everythin’ and that dress of yours ain’t comin’ off completely. Gotta keep them perverts on their toes.” He winked at me, and I tried to keep the smile on my face, but under it all, I felt as if this was very dangerous.

As he kissed me softly in front of the cameras and rolled his eyes playfully as the director asked him to push my dress up to show more of my skin, I felt something lurking in the shadows. Once this was shot, there was no going back and for some reason, I felt completely doomed.

***

I woke up with a start, flinging my body forward. From the sofa, the Ghoul shushed me, holding a gloved finger over my mouth.

I could hear something outside, and I assumed that was what woke me up. It was a strange sound, of someone dragging their feet through the dirt and the mud. We sat there in silence for a full half an hour, until the dragging sound moved away from the hut and back out into the darkness.

“You mind takin’ the next watch, Sweetheart?” he said, “I need to get a couple hours kip in before we set off tomorrow.”

“Sure,” I say tentatively, pulling out my pistol. “I’m glad you finally trust me.”

“Well, I’m a huge fan.” He laid heavy emphasis on the ‘huge’, winking at me through the dusk light. I rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a little proud for some stupid goddamn reason.

Back when I started acting, I didn’t think I’d have any living fans – never mind a half-dead irradiated man from 200 years in the future. Is he half-dead? It’d never been explained to me at the brothel – I’d just done my service and taken the RadAway. None of the others had ever stuck around to tell me their life story.

We switched places, I sat myself down on the sofa and the Ghoul lay down on the bedroll on the floor.

“Damn, this shit is fuckin’ uncomfortable.” I heard him say, and I let out a laugh under my bed.

“I didn’t complain,” I whispered, and he made a grunting noise. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be an insult or not, but I just chuckled quietly and pulled out my pistol, aimed at the door ready for anyone who tried to force their way through.

The sun rose quickly after that, and by the light of the sky, I was able to get a better look at the Ghoul’s sleeping face. There was something so familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I decided it was the cowboy look – it reminded me of the niche I’d almost fallen into after my three-month contract with Cooper’s team. The audience had loved our chemistry on screen in The Man from Calabasas, and the studios knew they’d get a lot more money if we came as a package deal – so we shot Under the Covers, City of Starlight and Valley of the Gun together. It took me back to the last film I’d shot, the one I hadn’t finished shooting.

I looked down at my clothes – the same clothes I’d been wearing 200 years ago on set. The ‘Western Hooker’ dress, of which there had originally been five different versions. The hat, which I’d stolen from my co-worker as a joke, but had still been on my head when we’d been told to start running. For a moment, I could still smell the food that they’d made us on set. I could still smell the horse manure, and the flashing of lights.

I looked back at the Ghoul, awake now, and almost came to a realisation.

Part 2

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout tv series #fallout show #walton goggins #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you

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thisisourlovestory · 1 year ago

Text

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

part 2- the chronicles of a stargirl and her sun masterlist

Luke Castellan x reader

Summary- the first full day at camp where slight drama unfolds and you make a new friend

Word count- 5.4k

Notes- thank you @imaginingmoonlight again for the vibe (I don’t know what else to call it) and I’d also like to say that I was actually inspired to write this series by @tangledinlove because the killerverse is amazing and I love it so also thanks to her otherwise I wouldn’t have done this.

Taglist:

@abbersreads @tenshis-cake

“We've just got to find out what you're good at first.” Annabeth explained as you walked beside her. “It might be that you are just really bad at using weapons but don't feel bad. You barely nicked him and he was standing in the wrong place so it was technically his own fault.” You winced.

“I didn't mean to, I swear, it just kinda slipped out of my hand before I was ready.” Annabeth grinned.

“At least you know to never try to throw a javelin when we do sports unless you want to skewer someone.” You glared at her.

“I'm glad someone is enjoying my embarrassment. I could have killed him! And then what would happen? Besides, I don't think that helped my prospects of making any friends here other than you.” She waved a dismissive hand.

“You'll make friends. It's just that you're new and the circumstances were interesting to say the least. Also it is spring so there are way less people here than there will be in summer.” You sent her an unimpressed look.

“You can't talk. Everyone loves you. I'll bet even Mr D doesn't hate you as much as the rest of us.”

“That is a lie. Plenty of campers don't like me.”

“Oh really? Name one.” You crossed your arms over your chest as she struggled to answer. “Didn't think so.” You said smugly as she stuck her tongue out.

“We've got to get to the armoury. It's time to try out sword fighting.” You paled.

“Can we not skip it?”

“Not a chance.”

Annabeth rummaged through a pile of swords. Occasionally picking one up to show to you and immediately putting it back down at your face. You wandered around the armoury, glancing every once in a while at Annabeth to check she hadn't cut herself accidentally. Finally she emerged from the pile, holding a sword triumphantly above her head.

“This one is perfect.” She held it out and you gingerly took it. The bronze blade was sharp and shining, the smooth metal cold to the touch.

“I don't see why I can't just use my knife.” She sighed.

“Because it's not made of celestial bronze so it won't kill monsters. Now get out there, I'll be out in a moment to teach you some stuff.” You trudged out and took your place on the sawdust, swinging the sword from side to side, letting the tip brush the floor lightly. Annabeth followed out quickly and got into position.

“Just try and land a hit on me.” You gaped at her.

“You want me to try and hit you?” She shrugged.

“It's a good way to test if you have a natural ability for sword fighting” Without warning she swung her sword forward and you lifted your own to block the blow.

“Not bad.” She swung again and you stumbled back slightly to avoid the hit.

“So I just kinda,” You swept the sword in front of you and Annabeth jumped back to avoid it, “Actually I think that works.” Annabeth slashed her blade through the air and you ducked, sweeping your own out in a wide arc, hitting her ankles with the flat side of the blade. She hissed at the sting and narrowed her eyes as you rose up and smiled. She rained down a flurry of blows on you and you blocked each one as well as you could, ending up with a multitude of tiny nicks on your arms. You rolled onto the floor to dodge a particularly well aimed stab headed straight for your neck and twirled the sword in the air before thrusting it forward to just under her chin. Annabeth’s eyes widened in shock before a grin took over her face.

“Not bad, but-” She grabbed the hilt of your sword and twisted, forcing you to let go and allowing her to poke you lightly in the stomach. “I win.” She handed you back the sword and you stabbed it into the ground. “Rule number one is never let up your guard, always be expecting an attack. It’s what keeps you alive. But for your first time you did pretty good. Better than most, and with a little training you’ll be able to beat me.” You hummed.

“Maybe. But the sword feels…wrong in my hands. Like I shouldn’t be holding it.” Annabeth frowned.

“We do still need to try out some other weapons. You might like them more.” She turned and walked back to the armoury, gesturing for you to follow her. “You’re doing archery later but for now grab some knives or daggers and try to throw them at those targets over there.” You did as she instructed and gathered a collection of bronze knives, carrying them over to a bench and dumping them on it with a clatter. You squinted at a target, judging how far the distance was and picked up one of the knives.

“Wait for me before you throw them.” Annabeth started but you had already tossed it up into the air allowing it to spin and then caught it and threw it full speed across the room. In a blur it hit dead centre. Annabeth looked at you surprised. “I guess you can throw.” You were already throwing more knives at the other targets, each one making a dull thudding as they hit home in the bullseye. You huffed and pushed your hair out of your eyes as you finished, sweat dripping from your brow, eyes sparkling with exhilaration.

“That. Was. Amazing!.” You exclaimed and twirled on the spot. “Did you see that? It was so cool.” She nodded, calculating, but you didn't notice. Too caught up in your own achievement.

“Yeah those throws were scary accurate for a beginner.”

“I think we've found what I'm good at.” She laughed.

“Not so fast, you've still gotta try out archery. And Luke is helping with that. He couldn't help now cause he had to supervise the climbing wall. Make sure nobody gets burned alive that kind of stuff. But he's taking you for your first archery lesson later, responsibilities that come with being head counsellor of the Hermes cabin. That and none of the current Apollo kids stay year round yet.” She rambled and you watched with an amused smile. “Anyway we have to get going for lunch, since it's not summer and there's not so many people we don't have to sit at designated tables like usual, if we did most people would literally just be sitting by themselves and that's just sad.” Your stomach rumbled and you glared down at it before looking up at her sheepishly.

“I'm apparently incredibly hungry so please lead the way.” She rolled her eyes and discarded her sword in a pile, kicked open the door and began the fairly long walk to the mess hall. You both trudged past the cabins where all the other campers were also starting to walk to the mess hall. There weren't many at all, about twenty across all twelve cabins, chattering happily to one another as they walked in a clump. Everyone sat down on random benches, presumably with their friends, and piled the food that appeared on the tables onto their plates in mountains.

There was a varied selection of food, all stacked in heaps so they filled up all the available space, there was something for everyone. Breads, cheeses and cuts of meat spread out for a buffet style meal, pots of soup, bowls with all kinds of pasta, rice and meat coated in sticky sweet sauces. There were even baskets stacked with fresh fruit surrounded by tiny bite sized sweets covered in sugar. Annabeth grabbed some food for herself and picked up some meat from a pile that stained her fingers red.

“Try this it's good, It's beef marinated in some random sauce and then cooked on the barbecue. Nobody actually knows what's in the sauce but it's kinda spicy.” She paused thoughtfully. “And it has garlic in it. I think.” She licked her fingers, getting rid of the red stain as you followed her advice and plated some of the beef along with rice and a warm bread roll dripping with butter. Annabeth immediately made her way over to the fire and dropped some food into it, you snatched up a bunch of grapes and followed suit. As the grapes fell into the flames you shut your eyes and bent your neck slightly.

“Hi, it's me, again. I don't know who you are but could you maybe send a sign or something. It couldn't hurt. Could it?” You mumbled and straightened up as smoke rose into the air smelling like every kind of food you could ever imagine.

“I really can see why they like burnt food.” You stated as you sat down next to Annabeth at a table. “It smells annoyingly good.” You took a bite of food. “And that's delicious as well.” She smiled, taking a bite of her own food.

“Told you so.” You both ate in silence, too occupied with savouring every bite that you forgot to ask any questions. All too soon the lunch break was over and Annabeth was directing you to the archery field.

“So you basically just follow the path past the Big House and he said he'd be waiting for you there and if you got lost he'd go and find you.” She turned around as someone called her name and yelled back. “Give me a minute.” She looked back at you. “Have fun and I'll see you later at dinner.” She spun on her heel and ran off as you did the same and walked in the opposite direction.

You hummed quietly to yourself as you walked through the woods, the trees shading you from the sun. Dust from the path floated in the air as you kicked the stones from it and into the grass, other campers passed you once or twice, attempting to whisper to each other about you and failing as their voices rang out like foghorns through the otherwise silent trees. You passed the Big House and caught Chiron watching. You waved slightly and continued without waiting to see if he responded. After a few more minutes of walking you arrived at the archery field to see the targets lined up and a selection of bows laid on the grass ready for use. You looked around and saw nobody. Not a single soul in sight. He's probably just running late, you thought, Annabeth said he was head of the Hermes cabin though so he must be busy taking care of something. So you waited. You sat down on the damp floor and fiddled around, picking blades of grass and twisting them around your fingers as tightly as possible before they snapped, plucking daisies, weaving them into a crown and placing it on your head. You even resorted to picking up one of the bows, subsequently snapping the string across your hand and leaving a raised red line across the palm of it. Then you settled back down, made yourself comfortable and placed your chin in your hand. You hadn't meant to fall asleep but the night before had been almost sleepless, tossing and turning in an unfamiliar bed with unfamiliar people in some of the other bunks. So you somehow ended up drifting off with the warm heat of the sun on your back and a cool breeze blowing across your face.

You woke up just as suddenly as you had fallen asleep, an owl hooted softly and you realised it was growing dark. The sun almost completely set in the horizon, only a thin sliver of light peeking out from behind the trees. You got to your feet and began the march up to the cabins. It was most definitely too late for dinner but you remembered Annabeth mentioning there was a campfire tonight. You followed the smoke rising in the distance and the faint glow of the flames, tripping over the occasional dip in the ground and sliding over the grass. Shortly, you arrived at the campfire and Annabeth spotted you almost immediately, jumping to her feet and running over.

“Where were you?” She asked, an accusatory tone to her voice and a frown on her face. “I couldn't find you anywhere. And what is that in your hair?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” You mumbled, sitting down and reaching out for a stick; shoving a marshmallow onto it then holding it above the fire to toast.

“Did you suck at archery?” You laughed half heartedly at her question.

“I wouldn't know yet Annabeth.” She tilted her head and studied you puzzled before a look of understanding passed over her face.

“He didn't teach you any archery.”

“He didn't even bother to show up.” You corrected, pulling the marshmallow out of reach from the fire and blowing on it slightly as you grabbed two chocolate covered biscuits with the other hand and mashed the marshmallow between them. The chocolate melted, mixing with the gooey melted mess of marshmallow. You lifted it to your mouth and took a bite.

“And I don’t care at the moment. I just want to eat my smore. I forgot how good they were, do you want one?”

“No I already had some. I’ve been meaning to ask you, where did you get that hoodie from?”

“Oh it was waiting for me yesterday when I woke up. Probably just a spare one from lost and found since my clothes were ruined.”

“Right, lost and found.” Annabeth sat still for a second then grabbed your hand and dragged you around the campfire to the opposite side despite your protests.

“Why are you so freakishly strong?”

“I am not freakishly strong! And that hoodie, not from lost and found.” She stopped in her tracks as you looked at her confused.

“Huh.”

“Never mind, it’s just a hoodie. Now I have to have a little chat with Luke.” She continued to drag you until you both stood directly in front of him.

“Hey Annabeth.” Luke greeted her with a grin as he stopped talking to the people sitting around him. “What's up?”

“What's up?” She seethed. “What's up is I asked you to help earlier and you didn't want to so I pretty much begged until you said yes because I had something important on.” She took a deep breath and tears filled her eyes. “And then you didn't even do what you said you would.”

“Annabeth…”

“No don't,” She interrupted, “I don't know what exactly your problem is with Y/N since you seemed fine with her last night when she woke up but you're going to sort it out right now.” She punctuated her sentence by pushing you down next to him.

“Can we have a minute.” Luke said to the others and they all obliged, walking over to other people laughing and sneaking peeks back. “Annabeth, seriously why would you think I have a problem with Y/N?”

“You didn't want to help her, you made up fake excuses to get out of it and then you agreed but didn't follow through. So you have some kind of problem otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that.” She crossed her arms and you spoke up.

“Annabeth it's fine, really it's fine. I don't mind if Luke doesn't like me. It's not a big deal.”

“It's a big deal to me! I want you to be friends. And you'll be really good friends I swear. So can you sort out whatever is wrong and get along please. Ask each other some questions, get to know each other better. Say twenty each?” With that she ran back to the other side of the campfire to her siblings leaving you both staring after her in shock. After a moment Luke broke the silence.

“Where did you come here from?” You blinked and answered slowly.

“I lived in the UK until I was eight then moved to the USA because my parents got a job offer.” His eyes sharpened.

“Parents?”

“Yeah. I was adopted, I don't know who my real parents were. Suppose I might find out who one of them is someday though. How about you?”

“Grew up in Connecticut, ran away when I was nine.” You stared at him vaguely shocked. From everything you had heard from Annabeth, Luke was the golden boy and he had run away from home. It was hard to believe but the bitter look in his eyes quickly changed your mind.

“When you were nine. So you were homeless for how long?” He shrugged.

“Five years. But I'm here now, and I've got Annabeth and my half siblings.” You hummed and shuffled around on the log, crossing your legs and leaning forward on your hands facing him.

“How did you meet Annabeth?”

“Just before we arrived at camp, we were walking down an alley and she jumps out and almost knocks my head in with a hammer.” He laughed slightly. “We took her in and then we got here.” You tilted your head.

“We?” His expression changed immediately. “Don't want to talk about it. Got it.” He looked at you.

“Annabeth is my little sister. Not by blood but by choice. We’re family and it seems she wants you to be part of our family.”

“You are very close to each other having known each other for so little time.” He smiled slightly.

“I would say she’s easy to like but that’s not entirely true.”

“Yes she can be quite intense at times. And I’ve only known her a day, can’t imagine what she must be like once you’ve known her a bit longer than that.” You grinned at him and tilted your head. “Must be unbearable.”

“You get used to it. Annabeth is Annabeth, she’s smarter than everyone, always six steps ahead of everyone else, she’s an incredible fighter and along with that she’s stubborn as a mule. But I wouldn’t change anything about her because then she wouldn’t be Annabeth.” He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, holding his clasped hands in front of him.

“I am sorry I missed your archery lesson. I didn’t mean to I just got caught up practising.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Practising what?”

“Sword fighting. I’m supposed to be the best swordsman in three hundred years and I need to practise if I ever want to go on a quest.” You hummed noncommittally.

“I suppose that makes sense.”

You turned to look at the fire. The flames a bright yellow, dancing up into the sky, twisting and turning, bright against the darkness of the night. Your eyes followed the smoke, whispers of grey spiralling up, up, up into the atmosphere.

“I can give you the lesson now if you’d like.” Your eyes widened in surprise as you turned to face him.

“You would?”

“It’s the least I can do to make up for skipping out on you earlier.” He quickly stood up and held out his hand. “Coming?” You smiled brightly and grabbed his hand.

“Lead the way Castellan.”

“Remind me why we're in the armoury again.”

“You need a good bow before you can shoot right. So here we are.” He raised his hands and turned in a circle. “Take your pick.” You rummaged through the bows, picking one up occasionally to inspect it. There were so many different styles, some smaller, some larger, some metal, some wooden, some decorated and ornate; others as plain as could be. The difference between being inconspicuous and wanting to show off. You stepped over to a crate and pushed off the lid, letting it fall on the ground with a bang. You shuffled through the few bows stored in the crate, disgust filling your face at the ostentatious designs.

“Do people just use these to look cool?”

“Some of the Apollo kids definitely do. But they can shoot with any bow and make the shot so it doesn’t really matter to them.” He picked one up and held it out. “This one looks like it’d fit you.” You scrunched your nose.

“It’s too…much. Yeah, it’s too much.” You slid over to another rack and pulled some off.

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever find…” Your voice trailed off as you picked one up from the very back, pulling it out of the pile that it was buried under. The bow was a smooth crescent, dipping in the middle, covered with strips of leather, with slightly curved ends, pointed and dipped in silver. The wood was engraved with miniature flowers and vines, each petal painted delicately with faded colours of red, blue and purple, the vines thin lines of green weaving through them. Your fingers floated over them, tracing each petal's outline with a look of wonderment on your face.

“Well how about this one?” You snapped your head up quickly, holding the bow close to your body, Luke raised his eyebrows. “You good?” You cleared your throat.

“This one. This is the one.”

“Are you sure? This one,” He waved the one in his hand in the air,”Is particularly nice and actually new, made only a couple of days ago.” You regarded the one he was holding with disdain. It was plain, nothing that made it stand out. It could not have been more unlike the one you held tightly in one hand, fingers flexing around the leather grip.

“No. This is the one, it’s perfect.” He sighed.

“Alright then, I’m not going to argue with you. Follow me.” He walked outside with you behind and stood in front of a target, illuminated by the dim light from torches lit up around the edge of the field. He steadied an arrow. “You pull back, straighten your aim and release.” He let go and the arrow landed just outside the bullseye. “Your turn.” You fiddled with the bow, stroking the leather nervously and tapping the sharp silver capped ends. He smirked teasingly. “Come on then. Or are you scared you won’t be good enough at it.” You scoffed and stomped over to him, grabbing an arrow and nocking it, pulling the string taut to your cheek and narrowing your eyes at the target.

“First of all, you’ll never hit the target like that. Lift your elbow. And widen your stance.” You shuffled your feet. “No, not quite. May I?” You nodded. “You need to just,” He moved behind you and placed one hand on your waist, the other on your arm and kicked one of your feet to the side, “That’s better. Now,” He lifted your elbow up. “Fire.” He whispered in your ear, his warm breath grazing your skin. You sucked in a deep breath and let the arrow fly. You squeezed your eyes shut as it shot through the air and hit the target with a dull thud.

“Well look at that.” Luke murmured behind you.

“What is it Castellan?”

“Why don’t you open your eyes and see for yourself.” You hesitantly opened them and looked disbelievingly at the target, the arrow sitting in the middle of the bullseye. You took a double take, looking back at Luke and then back to the target.

“I did that? Me?” You whispered and Luke chucked quietly.

“Yeah you did but let’s try again. This time by yourself. Make sure it wasn’t just my expert skills that made you shoot like that on your first try.” He nodded to the target and you nocked another arrow, pulling back the string to your cheek with ease and letting it loose quickly, sending the arrow flying and splitting the wood of the previous one as it lodged just between the feathers.

“Not just your expert skills apparently.” His lips twitched upwards.

“Perhaps not, but I will need more proof.”

“Then I will give you some.” With that you fired a volley of arrows, each one landing so they formed a star when you finished. You stared proudly at your work. “How’s that for your proof?”

“That's pretty hard proof. You must be a natural at archery and my teachings clearly have nothing to do with it.”

“Your teachings have something to do with it. You got me that first shot. I’m just a quick learner, and lobbing things at targets is apparently my thing now.” You dropped the bow down carefully in the grass and turned around to look at him and added as an afterthought. “Except for spears. That did not go well.”

“I heard.” You winced and twiddled your thumbs.

“Yeah. Anyway thank you for this, you really didn’t have to.” He shrugged.

“Like I said, I wanted to make up for this afternoon and giving you a late lesson seemed the best way to do it.” You rolled your eyes at his words and threw yourself down on the ground, unbothered by the damp soil. Your hands rested on your stomach and the longer pieces of grass ticked your ears as you gazed up at the sky, the stars twinkled above, shining brightly like miniature diamonds. They decorated the night, small pockets of light in the deep blue sky, soon to give way to pure blackness but the stars would still be there.

You felt Luke lay down next to you and heard him ask you a question.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“What?” You asked back, turning to look at him.

“Your favourite colour. Annabeth said we should get to know each other so what’s your favourite colour?” You stared at him for a second and found nothing but truth in his eyes.

“I’m not sure,” You paused for a moment, “I like green a lot though. It’s pretty and there are so many different shades of it, some are more blue like the sea and others are more the colour of the trees. But you can find traces of green everywhere and I think that’s why I like it, it's not just some obscure colour that you can only find in clothes. It’s all around us, you’ve just got to look for it” You stopped, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, you weren’t really looking for that kind of long winded explanation were you.”

“No I don’t mind, it was interesting. Besides, I've heard longer explanations from Annabeth about why she had nutella on her toast in the morning rather than her usual jam.” You tipped your head to the side and laughed.

“And what was the reason for that exactly?”

“The first time she did it I believe she spouted some nonsense about it being high in fibre as well as having iron and calcium in it and also would give her more energy to deal with, as she put it, incompetent fools. However every other time she's done it she just gives me a look as if I'm completely stupid.” You muffled a snort at his indignant tone.

“She sounds like a middle aged woman called Susan or something. And for the record you are stupid.”

“I always thought she was more of a Theresa but each to their own and I’m not stupid at all thank you very much.” You snorted again and quickly covered it with a cough, composing yourself as he smiled smugly at the reaction he managed to pull out of you.

“So anyway, what’s your favourite colour?” You asked, shifting slightly to look at him better.

“Blue, a really clear bright blue, like the sky in summer, electric blue almost.” He answered decisively and you tapped your fingers together in thought.

“And how old are you?”

“Fifteen, you?”

“Fourteen. Why do you want to go on a quest so badly?”

“I need to prove that I'm a hero. And going on a quest is the only way I can do that.”

“Is it?” He faced you with a look of disbelief.

“Yes, if I go on a quest I'm a hero because I get glory from it, you don't get glory from sitting around at camp doing nothing. You have to fight for it so I need to go on a quest.”

“Right, sorry.” You murmured and looked back up at the sky, head resting on your crossed arms. “The stars are beautiful aren’t they.” You muttered. “I find it hard to believe they can only be found in such distant planes of the universe when we can see them right there in front of us.” You lifted a hand and traced a kind of w shape in the sky. “That’s Cassiopeia, the Queen, you probably already know this but she was the mother of Andromeda and was forced to sacrifice her to a sea monster due to her own pride when she boasted her beauty was greater than that of the sea nymphs.” You pointed to another cluster of stars. “And that’s Ursa Major,” You moved your finger again, “And that’s Virgo, the Maiden.”

“How do you know those constellations?” Luke asked quietly.

“My dad.” You smiled. “He taught me all the constellations and we would go stargazing together in the country whenever he had a free night. The first time he took me was when I was three and he said I asked for food every two minutes, after that he would always bring a picnic, sandwiches, carrot sticks, biscuits and little slices of cake with tea or hot chocolate in a thermos so I would never get hungry. And we would lie on a blanket and watch the stars, pointing out all the constellations we saw and naming whatever stars we could. On special occasions he would bring his telescope and let me use it so that I could see everything that was happening as closely as possible.”

“He sounds nice.”

“Yeah he is,” You whispered, “He really is.” You both went silent for a while, simply gazing up at the stars in peace and quiet, comfortable in each other's company.

After a while Luke stood up.

“We should get going, everyone will already be sleeping by now and we can tidy this all up first thing tomorrow.” You sat up and took his offered hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Thanks.” You leant down to scoop up your new bow. “I can take this back can't I?”

“It's yours.” He answered simply as he started to walk to the cabins with you hurrying to walk next to him.

“Thanks again for, y’know.” He glanced down at you.

“You don't need to keep thanking me, it was my fault for not showing up earlier. I was just making good on my promise to Annabeth.”

“Yeah but still, I appreciate it. Other people wouldn't have done what you just did.” You reached the semicircle of cabins and took a step into the Hermes one before you realised Luke wasn't following. You turned your head back to look at him only to find him looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?” You slapped your cheek lightly.

“No you just-” He stepped forwards and righted something on your head, brushing the hair back from your face in the process. “Your flowers were falling off stargirl.”

“Oh.” You breathed out, a hand rising to feel the flowers. “Thank you, I forgot I had them, I thought they would've fallen off earlier.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Stargirl?” He shrugged and offered a simple explanation before walking past you into the cabin.

“It suits you.” You smiled and made your way to your bed, quickly grabbing a top and pair of pyjama shorts before running to change into them behind the private screen set up in the corner of the cabin and then bouncing into bed. You lay there for a minute, staring up at the wooden ceiling, before you turned to face the empty bed next to you.

“Hey Castellan.” You whispered loudly and from the other side of the room he answered.

“What is it stargirl?”

“Are we friends now?”

“Nah, we're best friends stargirl, I don’t just teach anyone archery in the middle of the night. and don't think you can get out of this easily, best friends are for life.” You smiled into the darkness at the joking tone in his voice and answered with a hint of laughter.

“Wouldn't dream of it. I gotta say, it's nice to have a friend.” You hurriedly added, “Other than Annabeth and Maisie,” And turned over to the other side, “Goodnight Castellan.” You said and burrowed deep into the duvet. The last thing you heard was a soft laugh and Luke's voice saying.

“Goodnight stargirl, sleep well.”

Light pink sky up on the roof Sun sinks down, no curfew Twenty questions, we tell the truth You've been stressed out lately? Yeah me too

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #annabeth chase #taylor swift lyrics #pjo tv show #pjotv x reader #pjo x reader

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quill-firefly · 1 month ago

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Actually, I Want My Deadbeat Dad Back (Luke Castellan-Centric Fanfic)

Taking a little break from the usual fanfics I write because this entered my brain and it must be removed otherwise I will not get a good night's sleep. This is taking elements from both PJO and Epic the Musical. I've seen a lot of Percy getting time travelled back during the Epic!Odyssey (especially since it's like a shock for him to see what Poseidon was like back then). So now I'm punting Luke to the past.

Except Hermes, while obviously still retaining his personality traits in Epic, is not bound by the ancient rules of gods not interfering so he is keeping this strange little son of his with him.

Also this is a bit of a darkfic with Wingfic AU elements because I said so. Aka, Luke and Odysseus have little wing-ears because of their relation to Hermes.

When he stabbed himself with the knife, he expected to wake in front of Charon and be banished to the fields of Asphodel. Hades, he wouldn’t be surprised if Zeus himself tossed him down into Tartarus.

What he did not expect was to wake up, half-drowned as a stranger stood over him. The man’s face was familiar, but it was mostly the wings where ears should have been that caught Luke’s attention. He coughed, forcing himself to sit up as his eyes tried to adjust to the sunlight that shone down. He looked up, his voice soft and disbelieving, “Father?”

“What?” The man moved back, a momentary heartbreak in his brown eyes. Then Luke felt the sharp end of a blade against his neck. Wouldn’t be the first he found himself at the end of a weapon today. His hands scrambled against… sand, and that was when Luke finally took in where he was.

This was not the Underworld.

He kept his face neutral, but his heart hammered quickly in his chest as he took in the beautiful island landscape. He had been in Olympus just a few moments ago… He turned back to the familiar stranger, “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” The man shot back. Luke noted that the stranger wasn’t quite keen on sharing his name first. The sword hadn’t moved any further, but he didn’t dare try to disarm the man. Something about the man’s demeanor - and the lack of information Luke had about him - showed that he probably wouldn’t hesitate to skewer Luke like pork barbecue. Then the man was kneeling next to him. It made Luke uncomfortable to see those wings - quite similar to his own, which really only meant one thing.

“Look, you can clearly see our shared relation. Put down the sword.”

It wasn’t just the wings that gave the stranger away, but rather the mischievous glint in his eyes. Luke had enough of seeing it in the mirror and in his siblings’ gazes. The man narrowed his eyes. Standing up, the man moved his cape to the side, giving Luke a clear view of a shipwrecked boat and a couple of men staring awkwardly at him.

Now, it has been years since Luke had indulged himself in remembering the ancient Greek heroes, but his mind was quick to give him a horrifying answer as he took in where he really was.

“No no no no no.” He could almost hear the lingering traces of the mad Titan’s laughter in his mind as his situation finally sunk in. He stood up, nearly stumbling back into the sand as he tried to get away from the stranger. Sadly, he was too slow as his arm was immediately grabbed. He could hear the man bark out something, perhaps a question?

He tried to slow his panic, turning his gaze back up to… By the gods he could hardly accept it.

“Is this your island?”

He shook his head, wishing he was dead. “It’s not.”

—

Despite how much the fates hated him, being brought back to the past was not the worst thing that has ever happened to Luke Castellan.

Where to start?

What about his whole life being damned before he was even born?

What about his mother losing herself while he could do nothing but watch?

What about his deadbeat of a father who never once took the time to care?

What about his siblings and the rest of the Half-Bloods, left to be forgotten by their parents, sent out to die in meaningless quests for gods who would never remember their names?

Ah… and isn’t that where he keeps going back to.

Luke won’t pretend that there wasn’t a piece of him that wasn’t being selfish when he joined the forces of Kronos.

The scar of his failed quest was still fresh, the taste of his own blood still lingering on his tongue when the dreams began.

Kronos had offered him a chance to fight back against the gods, had consoled him when even his own father wouldn’t.

He had been a child. A scared and hurt child.

How could Luke have said no?

Maybe that really wasn’t the start of it, but gods know that he was always destined to fall.

Deep down, Luke knew it began even before he was born. He was but a pawn in the game of the gods - even if he had in the end decided to let go of all that pain and hurt.

Still, the neglect doesn’t go away easily - especially now that he was kept alive by that damned Titan who clearly didn’t want him to rest.

Even so, his mind kept going back to that quest.

That ridiculous quest for a golden apple.

What did his father even need it for?

He would never know. He failed after all.

And the scars remained with him even now, thrown so many years back into the past.

Even now…

He could still feel the emptiness at his back, the loss of the weight that once was there.

When he was younger, he used to enjoy taking long flights throughout Camp Half-Blood.

He remembered the hours he spent with his younger siblings, carrying them in his arms as he flew.

He recalled how a younger Annabeth and Thalia would tentatively reach out, always worried that he’d shriek at them in an instinctive attempt to keep them away from his wings, only for him to curl a protective wing around both of them.

Despite how much he resented his father, Luke loved that he had inherited wings.

He loved those wings, and some nights, he could bring himself to love his father for being able to claim him in that way.

His father may have cruelly abandoned him and his mother, but unlike most of the demigods, at least he had been claimed - long before he ever set foot in Camp Half-Blood.

Then the quest.

Ladon.

Those claws.

… He used to enjoy taking long flights.

—

The rest of the Ithacan crew kept their distance, though Luke could tell they were curious about him.

It wasn’t everyday that one saw another Hermes-descendant, and as far as he could tell, he hoped to keep up that appearance. They didn’t need to know he was actually a demigod. Maybe the lack of back wings was a blessing, they wouldn’t have any clue that he wasn’t just a descendant like Odysseus.

His heart fluttered as the thought crossed his mind.

Never in his whole mortal life would he have expected nor wanted to meet any of the ancient Grecian heroes.

Just another joke from the Fates.

Fuck, what was his life?

He watched as the infamous King of Ithaca paced the island, a heavy sadness on the man’s shoulders. Luke must have just arrived after the great loss of the man’s crew to Poseidon.

Funny how they shared that similarity… being screwed over by a child of Poseidon.

Though, Luke felt prideful enough to believe that he wouldn’t have yelled his name out like Odysseus did.

If the lost king wasn’t stressed about their predicament, Luke was sure he’d be under heavy interrogation - but after his admittance that they were on Circe’s island (because at this point Luke didn’t give a damn about accidentally ruining the past considering his own predicament), Odysseus was strangely silent. He was thinking of a plan. Luke knew how quick-witted the Grecian hero had been.

The man had sent a few of his men away, further into the island. Now, he was thinking of his next move.

Luke didn’t really care enough to warn him about what was going to happen.

As if right on cue, one of the men that Odysseus had sent stumbled out of the forest. Odysseus had reached out for him immediately, holding him by the arms as he demanded where the rest of the crew were.

Pigs. They were currently pigs.

Luke would have laughed, but he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He was already on thin ice for being a stranger that somehow washed-up on this island at the same time as them (Luke was not about to explain that he was from the future).

At least Odysseus hadn’t called him out on his lie. He didn’t even call Luke out when he lied about his name.

He should probably thank his father that Odysseus probably took pity on him since they were of kin, but right now Luke didn’t want to invoke Hermes’ name - not when he didn’t know what his father was like in the past.

Instead, he leaned back against a tree as he watched Odysseus have a quick argument with the man. Then they were both rushing into the forest, the other man trying to stop the king from entering any further.

As he watched them disappear into the trees, his eyes following after them, Luke couldn’t help but feel as though something in the foliage was staring back.

His back burned.

—

“Hello, little bird. That was a silly stunt that you pulled.”

This was Tartarus. Kronos sent him to Tartarus.

Luke clawed at the god’s arms, his wing-ears flapping frantically as he tried to escape his father’s tight embrace.

Why couldn’t he have had this when he was a child?

Even if he had sacrificed his life, Luke had no love for his father. At least, none that he wanted to give anymore.

As the god kept him from escaping, his eyes met Odysseus’.

He knew the story.

He knew what Odysseus had done to get home.

Still, Luke felt betrayed.

“Thank you, darling. Here’s the moly.” With his face pressed against Hermes’ chest, Luke could feel the crackle of divine energy - and it scared him. Even the arms that caged him held all the power that the gods wielded.

This was not the father he knew.

His father pretended to be a mailman.

He rarely showed his divine self.

He watched as Odysseus reached out for the plant, refusing to meet Luke’s gaze.

This wasn’t how the story goes. Hermes assisted Odysseus for… Hades, Luke didn’t know. Hermes helped because why not?

So why was he suddenly a bargaining chip?!

“Let go of me!” Even as the arms continued to tighten, Luke did his best to flail out of the god’s embrace, his wing-ears flapping fitfully. “Don’t touch me!”

“Oh you know how demigods are, darling! Stubborn and reckless. Little Loukanos here has hit quite the rebellious phase. Scared me when I returned to my palace to find him missing. Little bird tossed himself right out into the sea. Can you imagine it?” The god laughed, and Luke wished he had continued his war with the gods.

The audacity!

Hermes was lying, and they all knew it.

Odysseus knew it.

“Hermes… thank you.” The king said softly, a hint of guilt and hesitation in his voice. Luke felt somewhat vindicated at least that Odysseus felt some semblance of regret. Not that he would save him, but it was the thought that counted.

“Don’t thank me, friend. You very well may die.” There was an amused smile in the god’s tone, and Luke shivered. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard such blatant carelessness in his father’s voice.

“Good luck!”

He heard faltering footsteps, and soon there was nothing but silence.

It was just him and this version of his father now.

Those arms eased around him, but Luke wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he was free. Hands gripped the back of his shirt, as if the god was searching. He dared to look up, scared of those irisless eyes. The Hermes of the future had the same blue eyes as Luke’s.

He really didn’t know this version of his father.

“Now that dear Odysseus is gone, you and I should have some father-son time, hm?”

The god’s smile was strained.

“Let’s talk.”

The god leaned down, his mouth close to Luke’s wing-ear.

“Tell me, little bird, where are your wings?”

—

As a father, Odysseus would do anything to protect his son.

The thought doesn’t ease his guilt, even though a part of him knew that this was the right choice.

He knew his men were in danger, but he spared a single glance back to where he had left Loukanos with Hermes.

When he had first seen the young man, Odysseus had been surprised to find a fellow Hermes-kin. Then Loukanos had opened his eyes, and he’d called him father.

The “father” had taken him aback, but mostly it was the haunted look in the boy’s eyes that scared him.

Odysseus knew war.

He saw it in the eyes of his crew.

He saw it on his own.

His only hope is that he would never have to see that same look in his own son’s eyes.

Really, it was for the best that he left Loukanos with Hermes. He didn’t know where the boy had come from and Odysseus had enough men to worry about. He couldn’t take Loukanos with them once they left the island.

Besides, Hermes had said that the boy was his son who had escaped from Olympus.

Nevermind that Odysseus knew the god had lied.

Nevermind that as far as Odysseus was aware, his own grandfather - a son of Hermes - had never mentioned anything about Hermes keeping any of his children on Olympus.

Nevermind that Loukanos had looked terrified when Hermes had forcefully dragged him into his arms.

Odysseus had tried to think of another way, any other plan that didn’t require such a sacrifice.

But Hermes had flashed those irisless white eyes at him, a daring grin on the god’s face.

Try it, King of Ithaca. I dare you.

He needed the moly.

He needed to save his crew.

He needed to get home.

He needed to see Penelope and his own son.

Odysseus could only hope that Hermes would have no ill-intent towards Loukanos. After all, Hermes was a father himself. Surely he only had the best intentions for his son.

He could just delude himself that Loukanos was some spoiled demigod. There were plenty of spoiled royals. He’d had the displeasure of meeting them himself. Loukanos was probably just one of those.

Even if the boy had refused the embrace, Odysseus had seen how much Hermes had been so happy to hold Loukanos in his arms. How he refused to let go.

Odysseus would trade the world to have his family in his arms.

What did Telemachus even look like?

Had he gained the same wings that most Hermes-kin had?

Odysseus felt his wing-ears twitch, the heartbreak nearly consuming him as he thought of his son.

What he would give to be like Hermes right now.

He shook his head, grasping the moly tightly in his fist. It was a worthwhile deal. He couldn’t regret it.

He had a crew to save.

He had a kingdom to return to.

And he had his own family to think about.

Loukanos will be fine.

—

Luke was not fine.

“I don’t remember siring you.” There was a hand on his chin, tilting his face as the god observed the scar on his face, tracing it with clawed fingers.

Luke would have given anything to have the future version of Hermes. His actual father knew how to pretend to be human. This Hermes had no such reasons to play pretend.

“But I look at you and I feel a great sense of loss.” The god’s voice turned into a soft croon. “I look at you and feel as though I have a mortal heart to break.”

“...Right.” Luke tried to take a step back, cursing the Fates as he remembered that he had been cornered into a tree. “Like you said, ‘as though you have a mortal heart,’ don’t worry about it too much. Just let me go and we can pretend—”

“I don’t even know your name, little bird.” Hermes’ other hand gripped his arm, keeping him from darting sideways.

Luke wished Kronos had teleported the knife with him. Sure, Luke didn’t want to fuck around and find out if he tried to stab this Hermes, but it would have been better than being defenseless.

“It’s Loukanos—”

The grip on his chin tightened, and the god’s eyes glowed briefly.

“Don’t lie.”

He took a breath, trying to stop the erratic beating of his heart. “It’s Luke. Luke Castellan.”

Hermes frowned, relinquishing his grip. “Luke Castellan of…?”

He wracked his mind for an answer, but anything he said would have been seen as a lie. Weakly, he mumbled out, “...Of Connecticut?”

“Of what?” Now it was the god’s turn to be confused. Luke took the opportunity to quickly dart past his father’s arm, trying to put as much of a distance between him and the god.

He had barely made it a few steps before the god was on him. He covered his face as he landed on the ground with a huff. He could feel the end of Hermes’ caduceus at his lower back, keeping him from crawling away.

“Your words don’t register as a lie, little bird. But I can’t quite recall a place known as… Kanetikut? Ah, and I don’t think I remember which mortal woman you come from—”

“Of course you don’t. Typical of you not to remember mom.” Obviously past Hermes wouldn’t know Luke’s mom yet, but the comment enraged him.

“...You have a lot of anger towards me, little bird.” He felt the weight of the caduceus lift, and Luke scrambled back to his feet. At least this time, the god didn’t follow after him. Instead, he was staring at Luke with birdlike curiosity, as though he were a shiny trinket. “You dress strangely too. There’s something very odd going on here, little bird. Where are you from, really?”

“Like I’d ever tell you.” He scoffed before rolling his eyes. “The only place I should be in right now is the Underworld. So, do your job and drop me off.”

“You don’t look dead to me, Luke.” The god grinned, but the amusement quickly dropped. “Though I suppose you feel as though you’ve died. Your poor wings—”

“And whose fault is that?” He snarled, wishing more than anything that this really was his father. He had wanted so long to ask the god why he had sent him on that quest.

Why did he even want that stupid golden apple?

“Ha! Certainly not me, darling. I didn’t even know you existed until a few minutes ago.” Hermes tutted, as if lecturing a small child. “Still, you blame me, don’t you?”

Before Luke could respond, the god was suddenly in front of him, arms pulling him into an embrace. “While it isn’t my fault, I won’t leave you to suffer alone.”

“Wha—” He screamed as the god suddenly flew upwards, carrying Luke in his arms.

The god only laughed, as if this was nothing but a game to him.

“No need to be scared, little bird. Your father has you.”

Luke nearly screamed again as the god jokingly loosened his grip. “Where are you taking me?!”

“Home, little bird.” The god smiled, “I don’t ever want to feel the loss of you.”

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

Author's Note:

So some notes.

*In the ancient times, it was more common for children of gods to display non-mortal traits. In the modern world, however, the non-mortal traits have become rare as a necessary consequence of keeping demigods from getting murked lmao. Luke just got lucky (or not) that he inherited Hermes' wings.

**As Odysseus is only a descendant and not really a direct child, he only inherited the wing-ears (though this isn't usually a guarantee and they could very well just have mortal traits - Odysseus is just lucky). For the direct children of Hermes, they always inherit both the wing-ears and the actual back wings. So yes, no flying back to Ithaca for Odysseus.

***Past Hermes could sense that Luke was a direct child and not just a descendant. While he's being very playful and stuff, he's actually freaking out that Luke is missing his wings. Also, since the gods were more hands-on in interacting with mortal lives back in ancient times, Hermes can easily just take and keep Luke. He's gonna keep this strange little son of his close by. Also also, technically it doesn't make sense but past Hermes could sort of feel that Luke was going to be a great loss to him (since in modern times, Luke was Hermes' favorite child). He feels a deep love for this son of his that he doesn't quite remember having.

#percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo fanfic #epic the musical #epic hermes #epic odysseus #luke castellan #luke castellan-centric #wingfic #darkfic

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ruiniel · 8 months ago

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No one asked but my brain is swiss-cheesed about this character so blurted some HCs about Ming Yi with a genderfluid heavenly official friend.

Ming Yi's never been much of a talker around the Upper Court, and a scarce presence besides

Which has the opposite effect of getting too much attention when he does make an appearance

It took about a hundred years for you to develop something close to a friendship: it was actually more a case of you asking him to accompany you somewhere and him acquiescing (grumbling and/or eye rolling)

Seems especially into it when Shi Qingxuan is around, though he hides it well

When you ask him about it, he shrugs, saying he has nothing better to do at the moment anyway

Nobody knows where to find him, ever. You get the impression it will never happen unless he wishes it. Something about his reclusive nature appeals to you, against all common sense. Shi Qingxuan seems to agree, never letting him off the hook

Whenever you try reaching for him in his castle in the Upper Court, he's mostly gone on business (so say the attendants)

Randomly, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. When you look, it's no one in particular: either a junior official from the Middle Court, or a civil god from the palace of Ling Wen, or a Heavenly Capital guard.

Sometimes it happens that a mission in the mortal realm leaves you wounded beyond your healing capabilities. It's always the same official tending to you.

"Have we met somewhere?" "Only the times I'm patching you back together," she says. You leave it be, but something is awfully familiar about her.

Say you'll cook, invite Ming Yi over for dinner. He'll never decline. Any compliments you'll get sound sincere, heartfelt even.

At first he kept denying you're friends (does that to everyone) and just as you were about to give up trying, there's Ming Yi waiting at the entrance of your palace with his shoulder propped against a pillar, nonchalant. "So, where are you dragging me to this time?"

The only quirk you noticed is his appreciation for a particular Fire Social, hosted on the eve of Hanlu. You've accompanied him countless times along the years to a town called Fu Gu in the mortal realm.

And not just any Social, but a Bloody Fire Social with scenes of gore and despair played out in the street. Every year, you go to the same inn, and he takes the same spot at the same window, watching the procession of murderous rampage unravel until nightfall.

"I admit... I could never relate to this kind of commemoration." Ming Yi takes a gulp of his wine before answering, short and low as always. "Some things should never be forgotten." "... in general, I agree. But what is... all this about?" His gaze stays on the tall, pale man clad in black at the center of the performance, skewering and knifing the lavishly dressed people surrounding him on stage. "Maybe I'll tell you, someday."

#heaven official's blessing #ming yi #he xuan #black water demon xuan #Black Water Sinking Ships #tgcf #tgcf x reader #he xuan x reader #he xuan headcanons #sorry not sorry #i love him okay #yes he had a bunch of clones in the upper court #ruiniel:fanfiction #mxtx tgcf

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writingutshipficscuzimbored · 6 months ago

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An Unholy Alliance

Fandom: undertale AUs

AUs: underfell & storyfell

Ship: uf!Sans x ssf!Chara (amab)

Chapter One: In Medias Res

Step by step, Chara walks through the seemingly empty last corridor, they look left and right, admiring the architecture and cleanliness, the one back home wasn’t nearly as pretty.

“so. you finally made it.”

Chara's head snaps to the origin of the voice, confused. The hallway was empty mere seconds ago. They spot a familiar, yet irritating face. “Guess I have, haven’t I?” They respond, as they look him up and down.

Sans steps forward, no longer cloaked in darkness. “i gotta say, you’re an interesting one. out of all the humans who i’ve judged… not once have i come across someone like you.” He says.

“Really?~” Chara asks in a drawn out tone, as a smile creeps to their face.

Sans starts pacing from side to side, never taking his gaze off of Chara. “well, yeah. for one, you’re clearly far more powerful than any human should be. for two, your methods are disordered.” He says, stopping in place. “for some monsters, you killed them without a second thought, however you never laid a fuckin' finger on: the queen, my brother, or that obnoxious flower. sure you beat undyne within an inch of her life, but you killed monsters far weak-“

“You’re starting to bore me, just cut to the chase.” Chara cuts him off.

Sans snarls, “fine,” he says. “i am under orders, and a promise, to kill you… so i’ll give you this one warning: if you take another step forward,” his eyes black out, “i'm gonna have one hell of a time.”

Chara lets out a drawn out laugh, before snapping their eyes back to Sans. “Took the words right out of my mouth.” They exclaim, drawing their knife. “Come on, let’s dance!” They yell, charging at Sans.

Sans extends his arm, attempting to use telekinesis to throw Chara into a wall. Chara however, summons vines from the walls, wrapping around themselves and keeping them in place.

“Nice try!” Chara exclaims, summoning a vine to attempt to skewer Sans.

Sans dodges the vine, before shooting Chara with half a dozen blasters.

Chara -1hp

“shit.” Sans says under his breath.

Chara freezes, looking at him, before letting out a laugh once again, “Is that really all you can do?! Come on, skeleton, FIGHT ME LIKE AN ANIMAL!” They demand, summoning a circle of flower petals around Sans.

Sans teleports out of it, summoning dozens of bones, attempting to impale Chara; though all doing one damage. “if you knew what was good for ya, you’d stand down, immediately and stop being such a pain in the ass.”

“You’re not my king. Just a pathetic excuse for a combatant.” Chara responds, lunging at Sans with their knife once more.

Sans summons three red bones, one impaling Chara, and then dodges their slash.

Chara grunts in pain, ripping the red bone out of their gut. “So you can be interesting after all…”

Sans takes the opportunity and flings them into the ceiling with telekinesis, as vines and petals summon all around him, he dodges each projectile near effortlessly. “all that shit talk, and you still can’t land a hit on me. kinda fuckin' depressing, if you ask me.” He says, chuckling.

Sans summons a massive wave of red bones aimed at them, Chara scatters themselves into flower petals—avoiding the attack—and reforms behind Sans, who then barely dodges their slash.

Chara attempts to snare him with their vines, but Sans teleports a couple meters back.

They stop attacking and stare at each other.

“Yes. Yes~ this is wonderful! I haven’t had this much fun in ages!” Chara exclaims, laughing. “Having your “hell of a time” yet?”

“one way to put it” he responds, interrupting the conversation by summoning more red bones immediately behind Chara.”

Chara dodges, throwing their knife at Sans.

Sans immediately uses telekinesis to launch their knife back at them, stabbing them in the right lung. “return to sender, asshole.”

Chara collapses to the ground, grunting in pain and coughing up blood. Sans raises his hand to summon another attack, before he finish them however, they roll out of the way, and rip the knife out of their chest. “I can’t even remember the last time I tasted my own blood”, they say, smearing the blood on their thumb across their face. “Keep it coming.”

“gladly.” Sans summons a massive barrage of red bones, and blasters, all while attempting to throw Chara to the other side of the corridor.

Chara locks themselves in place, and blocks the attacks with massive vines, before flooding the entire hallway with them.

Sans teleports to the opposite end of the hallway, avoiding the vines entirely. Once they clear he just sees Chara mere meters away charging at him.

Chara laughs manically as they approach, before they can get their final strike, their knife stops near inches from Sans' face. They look down to notice two long red bones emanating from the wall, impaling them at their shoulders. They grunt, as their body slacks from the shock. “Expertly done, skeleton. You impress me more by the minute.”

Sans begins to speak, but before any words come out, Chara grabs onto one of the bones with their left hand, pulling themselves closer to him and attempting one final slash.

Sans simply teleports a couple meters behind them. “you really think i’m *that* dumb?” He asks, honestly disappointed.

“kinda?” Chara responds, grabbing onto the bones once again. Stopping immediately once they feel 3 sharp bones poking their neck.

Sans slouches, letting out a long sigh of relief. “now, i have some questions for you.” He says, keeping his distance. “one, you are obviously not from here, and from what i can tell, you’re from another universe entirely; so what the hell are you doing here and what do you want?” He asks, reaching into his pocket and lighting up a cigarette. “two, you clearly weren’t taking that fight seriously, and you clearly have determination, if you wanted to kill me, you would have, so why didn’t you?”

Chara turns their head to face him properly, “very observant of you. I’m impressed.” They say, before scattering into petals and reforming in front of Sans.

Sans readies more bones.

“Hey, calm down, I’m done fighting.” They say raising their hands. “I just want to talk to you face to face, okay?”

Sans grunts, lowering the bones. “then talk.” He demands.

Chara smiles, stretching their arms above their head. “Why I’m here? Well, to tell you the truth, I have no idea. I was exploring waterfall and found this strange door that definitely wasn’t always there, and here I am.”

Sans scoffs, “you expect me to believe that? random ass door in waterfall, sure.”

Chara points towards themselves. “Look at my face. Do I look like I’m lying?” They ask.

Sans scans their facial expression, and grunts. “either you’re a fantastic liar, or you’re tellin' the truth.” He says, taking a puff from his cigarette. “now, answer the second question.”

Chara laughs, “I didn’t kill you, because you’re actually interesting. You’re fun to play with. I like you. I wasn’t lying when I said that this is the most fun I’ve had in ages.” They say wearing an innocent smile.

Sans takes a step back, shocked. “if all you wanted was a playmate, then look somewhere else, freak.” He says, before turning around and beginning to walk away.

“There’s more though.” Chara adds, walking towards him.

Sans turns around, disinterested “and what’s that?” He asks.

Chara holds out their hand, “I want to propose an alliance. Partnership if you will.” They say.

“why the fuck would i say yes to that? give me one good reason.” He demands.

Chara points to their head, “Think about it. You want me gone, and I want to go home. You obviously know quite a bit about this multiverse stuff, so if there’s anyone who could help get me home, it’s you.”

Sans takes a step towards them, “if i say yes, and we get you home. you promise to fuck off and never bother me again?”

“I promise. You’ll never have to deal with me again.” They say.

Sans frowns, “then it’s a deal.” He says, as he shakes Chara's hand.

“Good. I’m glad we could reach an understanding.” Chara says, “So, what’s first, partner?”

Next Chapter

#underfell #underfell Chans #uf Chans #undertale #underfell ship #underfell sans #uf sans #Storyfell #Storyfell Chara #Storyfell Chara x underfell sans #underfell Sans x Storyfell Chara #Chans #Chara x Sans #Sans x Chara #An Unholy Alliance

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ohanny · 1 year ago

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so fun fact, i've been feeling like crap and spiked a fever and literally dreamt this so from my actual delusions to you...

give kim something to do and get these three fraternizing:

basically, there was a deleted scene where pete hears about kim roaming free and he's like “oh, how did he escape?” and his henchmen informants (or way) are like “he didn't, rumour has it kenta let him go” and pete is like “... interesting.” because kenta serves tony’s interests. kenta doesn't disobey. kenta does not argue, ever. so the fact that he even at bare minimum dared to start giving tony suggestions on what to do? mmh.

so pete calls kim like “hey, we gotta talk? like i need to know what you said or did to kenta to make him let you go. come over, boo, let's chat” and let's be real, it's not like kim has anything better to do so he's like “sure” and arrives to the scene (which in my head took place in pete’s office, shh) just as kenta is about to kebab skewer pete.

and kim is like “KENTA NO!” using the same voice i use when i see my dog have something she definitely should not have in her mouth. and he grabs kenta’s shoulder and shoves him back and kenta just… goes. and pete is like “... interesting.”

kenta has scampered up and points the knife at kim, asking him to just “please leave, this has nothing to do with you, you got out so just GO!” but kimberly of justice is like “nah, kenta, we can't just shish kebab people” and starts walking towards kenta, pissed off, all “huh, whatcha gonna do? stab me too?” and the second his chest is about to touch the knife kenta yanks his arm back because yeah, no way is his knife getting anywhere close to hurting kim as seen before. and pete just lays there like “.... INTERESTING INTENSIFIED”

kim squares up with kenta going “you know what, you can stab pete if you want to but you have to go through me first.” and kenta is already at the breaking point and he keeps saying “please” as if he repeats it enough, kim will just step aside but no. kim is all “you helped me so let me help you” and kenta is all “i don't -” and kim rolls his eyes like “yeah, you really don't deserve it right now, look at you, but you can change. you can do better. you can earn it. you're nothing to tony. aren't you tired of just being his tool? don't you want to be a person again?”

kenta lets out this strangled scream of “i don't know how!” and kim is like “for starters you're gonna give me that knife and sit the fuck down so we can talk instead of stabbing each other” and pete - who in the midst of being INTERESTED has slowly inched his way back up to his feet - says “i'm sorry i didn't do more for you then. i should've just knocked you out and dragged you out with me but let me do it right this time.”

and when kenta turns to look at pete, kim grabs his wrist and twists the knife out of his grasp and as the knife falls, it's like all of kenta’s strings have been cut. kim catches him, saying “it's okay, i got you” and kenta basically just blue screens and passes out and then kim is like “oof, pete? little help here?” and then pete sweeps kenta up from kim’s arms and lays him down on the couch so kim can fuss over him, put a pillow under his head and straighten his clothes.

pete’s looks at kim all “yeah, that's why i wanted to talk to you. what did you do to him?” and kim huffs, offended, with a flip of his perfect fluffy fringe, “absolutely nothing. who do you think i am? i'm not part of your freaky little super squad.” and pete is like INTERESTING.

#pit babe the series #kentakim #petekenta #a literal fever dream for real #kim's pheromones have kenta acting crazy #pete is the only one connecting the dots here

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avonlea71 · 4 days ago

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Ten Teatime Etiquette Tips from Lisa Richey

For some, the technicalities of teatime can be a daunting mystery. But, for Lisa Richey, these customs are a beautiful way to build and express confidence. After a corporate career, Lisa became acutely aware of how manners impact one’s self-assurance, and she launched a business teaching children and professional adults the importance of etiquette. In this exclusive web feature, she answers ten questions about how to properly approach the occasion of afternoon tea.

What are the differences among various types of tea occasions? Tea is a wonderful opportunity to create a feeling for your guests to enjoy. And there are several types of tea occasions from which one can choose, but the names are not interchangeable. Afternoon tea is served in the late afternoon. High tea is often eaten at higher tables, closer to five o’clock, and typically is served with heavy meats and cheeses. Royal tea features Champagne in addition to the classic tea beverage.

When I’m invited to afternoon tea, what should I wear? Use the occasion as an opportunity to be your best self. Put on a pretty sweater or blouse that gets you in the spirit of afternoon tea—and even a hat if you so choose! Dresses are often perfect for this occasion, as well. And one can always direct dress code questions to the hostess for more details on the specific gathering.

As a hostess, how can I create a lovely environment for afternoon tea? Some of our best memories are marked not by things but by experiences. To bring the atmosphere you envision to your afternoon tea, one of the best things to do is add fresh flowers to the table. They make everything feel special—even if it’s just a sprig of azalea cut from your yard. Any flower arrangement signifies that you took a moment to add that extra touch and that you care.

What types of food should I serve? How should they be displayed? In what order should they be eaten? The dishes can be displayed on platters or a tiered tray. If the latter, the order from bottom to top, served first to last, should be finger sandwiches, followed by scones, and culminating with desserts. Traditionally, scones are served with butter—which should be room temperature—or clotted cream and lemon curd. There is so much room for creativity within these, whether replacing scones with miniature muffins or including morsels such as deviled eggs and skewered fruit.

How do I know which glass is mine? Where do I place my teacup? The acronym “BMW,” which means “bread, meal, water,” can serve as a helpful reminder for this. If you move from left to right with that acronym in mind, you’ll remember that your bread plate goes at your left, your meal in the center, and your water to the right. If someone at the table mixes up this order, and it brings things out of sync so that you’re left without a bread plate or glass, don’t call attention to it—simply ask the waitstaff in a discreet manner to bring you a replacement. Beverages should always stay at the upper right-hand side of your plate, even after you’ve begun to use them. This includes your teacup! When it comes time to drink, you’ll raise your cup and lean forward partially, meeting in the middle to take a sip.

Which utensils will be needed? Is it polite to eat with my hands? It’s common for a fork, spoon, and knife to be used for certain dishes at afternoon tea. However, the finger sandwiches are called such for a reason, and it is absolutely appropriate for those to be eaten with one’s hands. If the portion size is too large, one can cut the sandwich in half before eating it this way, if desired.

Read more here..

#tea time #lisa richey #victoria magazine

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michaels-office-hours · 11 months ago

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What if Dogday was best friends with Catnap, and was maybe having feelings of “is there more?” (Catnap definitely was, but was too nervous to make a move) But Dogday is so “everyone is my buddy” coded, that he didn’t wanna mess up their friendship by saying anything.

And what if Craftycorn was Dogday’s blatant crush? Like… “oh crap you’re cute… HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN STARING?!” Kinda crush. He doesn’t really know her that well because of it even. Cause anytime he tries to talk to her it just comes out as

Dogday: H-hi! I’m- Dog. You- you

Craftycorn: Yes, I’m Craftycorn. We work together, live together, and have been doing this for at least a year. You don’t have to keep introducing yourself. *rolls eyes and walks away sassily

Dogday: Y-yeah. Hehe. I’m Dogday. She talked to me.

Catnap: You ok man?

Dogday: hehehe. She said we work together.

Catnap: … you need help man.

And then when the Hour of Joy happened? Most of the smiling friends went with Dogday. (I think Bobby Bearhug went with Catnap though. And got left behind cause they couldn’t keep up.And Bubbabubaphant died in the chaos on one side of the other. Not sure which. Leaning towards Catnap) Tempers flared because tension was so high you could cut it with a knife. Kickin Chicken and Hoppy Hopscotch went off to try to help kids get out, and never came back. Making things worse. Craftycorn then betrayed the whole group when she realized Piggy Piggy was eating more than her share. Craftycorn went absolutely nuts, getting a full monster form like Catnap and everything. So Dogday watched as kids, smaller toys, and nearly himself, were killed by yet another of his friends. Before Catnap, hearing the commotion, came to end things.

Craftycorn didn’t last long. Already wounded from the other toys fighting back before they were trampled and skewered on her horn. Catnap toyed with her, took his time. Got out some aggression since… “He chose YOU.”

When her carcass had finally stopped twitching, Catnap sat back on his haunches to look at the wreckage. See if anyone else was alive. Dogday, around a corner, had watched the whole thing dead silent. Now seeing what all of his friend had become? He couldn’t help it… he choked. Sobbing and retching. Catnap turned and was on him in a flash.

Unlike with Craftycorn, Catnap was fast this time. Too fast for a distraught and surprised Dogday to handle. A searing pain ripped through his torso the second Catnap’s dead eyed face loomed over him. Thankfully he blacked out before much else. Although he did catch the sudden shift in Catnap’s expression. Was that… regret?

Dogday was left hanging for the rest of his life. He didn’t know how long it was. It felt both like a blink, and an eon. Catnap only came by to gloat. And to put him to sleep. That horror filled sleep with nothing but nightmares and pain, where he had legs but couldn’t run. His friends needed him but he didn’t help. Then he’d awaken hours or days later to the lower appendages gone. The pain a constant reminder of the fact he should have used them when he had the chance.

At least he can warn you to do what he should have done. Save those you can save. Help those who are help-able. And when you are met with horrors beyond your comprehension? Or someone beyond hope? Run. RUN!

RUN AWAY NOW!!!

(Anyway those post started as “haha I headcanon bi failure Dogday.” And then… this happened. :D Cause what if everyone he trusted either betrayed him? Or he thinks he betrayed them. Who knows. He might blame himself over Catnap and Craftycorn too. :3)

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday #catnap #craftycorn #smiling critters #this became a low key fic #wow

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eternalchiyo · 11 months ago

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Everlasting Spark ~DARK 07~

Yui and Ayato came back a bit over an hour later. Chiyo had occupied herself with watching the fire die in the fireplace of the living room. She’d have liked for it to be warmer in the house since she grew extremely cold at times. At the same time, ever since that one day she felt a bit uneasy about fires. Not scared, but she would rather not get too close to one.

Yui, who was tucking away the umbrella in the holder at the entrance, came to greet Chiyo. “Chiyo-san, we’re back, oh? The fire is almost out, aren’t you cold?”

She hurried to the fireplace and rekindled the flames by getting some more firewood in there.

“Hey, Chichinashi, what are you doing? I thought you were going to make me Takoyaki?!” Ayato complained from back in the door frame. So that’s how she kept the guy happy. Chiyo wondered whether Yui’s cooking was really that good. They did say the way to the heart was through the stomach and Ayato did exactly seem like the type of guy to fall victim to that.

“Yes, yes, Ayato-kun,” Yui said. She really was enthusiastic in everything she did. Chiyo watched them with piqued interest.

“Oh right, Chiyo-san,” Yui turned to her, “I didn’t know what your favorite dish was, so I bought a bit of everything. We can make something together if you’d like?”

Chiyo raised her eyebrows. She never cooked before; they had servants for that. Before she could answer anything, Ayato cut her off:

“Hellooo? Are you coming or what?”

Chiyo rolled her eyes and followed the two of them after looking into Yui’s pleading face. She supposed she didn’t have many better things to do, so she might as well take part.

Ayato was suspiciously accommodating to Yui’s request of passing her the ingredients she needed. Chiyo supposed it was because there was something in it for him. She watched with curiosity as the other girl prepared the octopus and batter. While the pan was heating up Yui prepared the other garnishes. Clearly, she was quite skilled with a kitchen knife. Suddenly she turned towards her.

“So, Chiyo-san, what is your favorite food after all?” she asked.

Chiyo felt her own cheeks get warm. Sharing something like her favorite food with someone seemed like a very personal question. The obvious answer should have been ‘Why? Blood, of course.’. That has always been her answer; a lie. Something she pretended to love for appearances sake. She had no idea what convinced her to tell the truth this time.

“I… uh, really like crepes,” she said, “the ones you can buy with whipped cream and fruits.”

Ayato, who was sitting on the edge of the kitchen table started laughing loudly. This was the exact reason why Chiyo usually kept everything to herself. Alas, it was too late to take her words back now. She had to make do with frowning at him.

“Oh, don’t give me that look little miss “I-only-ever-suck-blood” hahah, though, I guess I would also keep my favorite food a secret if it was something as ridiculous as girly crepes.”

She hated it when Ayato made fun of her. She hated it when anyone made fun of her, really. The big kitchen knife Yui used to cut the green onions was laying on the counter next Chiyo now. She grabbed it.

“I swear, Ayato, if you don’t shut up right now, I will shove this down your throat!”

“What was that?! You wanna fight? Come at m–"

Yui cut him off by popping a Takoyaki ball inside his open mouth. “Here, Ayato-kun, try this,” she said. Chiyo could hear Ayato grumble something while he chewed but she couldn’t make out any coherent words. “Chiyo-san, you too.”

Yui handed her a Takoyaki skewer. Chiyo eyed it suspiciously before taking it.

It tasted really good.

Come to think of it, Chiyo had never been offered food in a way like this before. She thought about it while she was chewing the octopus-ball. Being distracted like that, Yui swiftly took the knife from her hands. It was a bit comical. Was that girl worried about Chiyo getting herself in trouble or was she worried about her hurting Ayato? Who knew. She didn’t really care, as she never meant to actually attack Ayato with it in the first place.

The boy in question eventually took off with a full plate of Takoyaki, leaving the two girls alone in the kitchen.

Chiyo helped Yui take care of the dirty dishes as well as she could. Meaning she ended up being the one to dry them off and put them inside the cabinets. They did that in silence until Yui spoke again.

“Chiyo-san, have you ever made crepes before?”

Chiyo shook her head. She didn’t exactly like not having as skill that the other girl had but at the same time concluded that it was a useless skill to have anyway.

“Let’s try making some then. I think this could be fun. Ayato and I also bought a bunch of fresh fruit and it would be a shame if it went to waste.”

“But I don’t– “

“Don’t worry, it’s not that hard,” Yui said, “we can start by cracking these eggs in a bowl.”

She handed Chiyo one of them and nodded her head to the glass bowl she took out a few moments ago. Chiyo tried her best. First, she tapped the egg gently against the rim of the bowl – nothing happened. She tried again, harder this time, but this only caused the egg to burst in half immediately and coat both the counter and Chiyo’s hand in egg yolk.

She groaned in frustration and shook off her hand in the sink.

“Obviously this egg must have been faulty,” she said pout audible in her voice.

Yui let out a giggle at seeing the other girl struggling.

“Do you have a death wish?” Chiyo asked.

“No, s…sorry.”

She took a damp cloth and cleaned up the mess, before taking out another egg from the carton.

“Here let me show you how to do it best.”

Yui took the egg and tapped it a few times against the bowl, forming a small crack in the shell. Then she took her thumbs and pushed the two sides of the shell apart, making the contents of the egg fall into the bowl. Chiyo was fascinated, the shell was perfectly sliced into two halves.

Timidly she took the other egg that Yui was handing her and tried to mimic Yui’s actions. She succeeded in cracking it open without wasting half of it like the previous time, however the shell did not crack open evenly and a few tiny pieces fell into the bowl along with the yolk.

“Damn it!”

Chiyo was about to throw the whole bowl away when Yui stepped in.

“Ah! Don’t worry about it, this happens to me sometimes as well, here, let me take care of it quickly!”

She fished the little eggshell pieces out with a teaspoon. “See? Nobody can tell that they were ever in there.”

Once again Chiyo could feel her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. She let her emotions get the better of her and she hated it. She always tried so hard to appear in control, it was hard for her when she lost it. Though, along with the obvious feeling of shame and feeling inferior there was also a sliver of a warm and fuzzy feeling. Was she having fun?

“Cheer up, you did pretty well for your first time,” Yui said. Her tone was cheerful.

Chiyo looked at the girl who was now putting in milk into the bowl and mixing it with a whisk. She had never met such a strange person before.

“How do you do that?” Chiyo asked.

“Hm? Oh, you just need to firmly grasp the bowl in one hand and– “

“No, not that,” Chiyo said, “how do you… stay so happy? Here of all places.”

This mansion was depressing. Everyone living inside it hated each other or had some sort of other issue with one another. On top of that Yui was the only human here, making her an easy target for blood sucking attacks, even from up there Chiyo could see the fading bite marks from some of the brothers littering her white skin in bruises. Her being a girl put her in an even more precarious situation, Chiyo was sure.

Yui bit her lower lip in thought and suddenly stopped whisking the milk and eggs. She smiled at Chiyo but all it did was make her sad.

“It’s not like I didn’t try to run away, you know?”

Yui recalled how she tried to run in the beginning, but all that got her was a broken phone and more bruises, so she eventually decided to make the best out of her situation. Chiyo felt as if she began to understand the girl better. She didn’t have anywhere to go and with the whole household being Vampires it was easy for them to just find her by scent. Even if she ran again, she probably wouldn’t come far.

“Besides… the others are not as bad as they seem,” she said and started to put in flour into the bowl little by little, mixing in between.

“Oh yeah? Like whom? Ayato?”

Yui nodded. “Ayato-kun, Reiji-san and Subaru-kun. Laito-kun and Kanato-kun as well.”

Chiyo looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

“And Shuu-san is– “

“Shuu-san is an asshole,” Chiyo completed for her.

And I am the one who made him that way, she thought.

Yui shook her head. “Mmm, Shuu-san is a kind person. I can tell, even if he wants people to think something else.”

Chiyo looked down and felt like crying. She could feel the other girl look at her, probably deciding whether to poke further or to leave it be. Apparently, she decided to leave it be because she didn’t say anything else until the crepes were ready.

It was Yui who took care of putting the batter into the pan and making the delicious thin base that could be filled with all kinds of things later. Chiyo mostly watched as she was sure she would set the house on fire accidentally if she had to do it herself.

They let the crepes cool down a bit before moving on to fruit selection. There were all kinds of different fruits inside the shopping bags. A mango, many bananas, strawberries, raspberries and… apples.

Chiyo meticulously picked out the apples and put them aside.

“You don’t want apples inside the crepes, Chiyo-san?” Yui asked.

“No. I hate them,” Chiyo said.

Looking at the other girl’s quizzical expression, she added: “They remind me of someone - a dead person.”

“I see, yeah I can see how it could be a sad memory, if it was someone that really liked them.”

Chiyo didn’t confirm her statement, but she also didn’t deny it. It really was not the time to put the mood down even further than it was. She wanted to finally be done with the crepes so she could get out of the situation. It was making her feel more and more on edge.

She ended up picking bananas and strawberries for her crepe and Yui helped her with rolling it up properly. Then they filled some of the other ones and left a few for being eaten plain if anybody wanted.

When they were almost finished Yui looked happy again.

“I am sure Kanato-kun will be thrilled when he sees what we made,” she said in a very cheerful tone.

“Hey maybe if you offer one to Shuu-san, you two could make up already?”

Chiyo looked at her with a frown.

“If I give him one of those, he will probably take it as an insult,” she said.

Shuu hated sweets, always had.

“Besides, I don’t think this can be solved by a piece of fried batter.”

“Maybe not but you gotta start somewhere, right? Or do you plan on fighting with him for the rest of your lives?”

‘The rest of your life’ sounded extremely long if you considered the fact that Vampire lives were eternal. At least Shuu’s was, her own, Chiyo was not sure. How would she know anyway? She was the only of her kind. A weird mixture of human and monster. Her life has been long already, but she had no idea when it would end.

“Shuu-san always looks at you with those sad eyes, I don’t think he means to keep fighting with you,” Yui said.

Chiyo sighed.

“It’s sad to see people fight.”

“It is sad isn’t it…” Chiyo said.

But no matter how much Chiyo regretted what happened in the past, there was no way to undo it. Edgar was dead and so was Shuu. The old Shuu had died alongside the human boy in the cursed fire that Reiji set to the village. He hasn’t been the same ever since.

She couldn’t help but feel as if it was her who murdered him.

The crepe was sweet. Sickeningly sweet, just the way she would like it. And yet… And yet it almost made her choke.

#(( did someone order angst with their dessert? ))#everlasting spark #admin writes #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers oc #dialovers #fanfiction #diabolik lovers fanfic

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barbex · 2 years ago

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“I wish you would write a scene where feelings realization leads to crying with Fenders”. For DADWC 😇🙏

Thank you for the prompt!

🍷🍷🍷 It's truly drunk writing for tonight's @dadrunkwriting, so I'm taking no responsibility for typos and grammar weirdness.

---

It's strangely quiet tonight. The mage and him are... talking. Just talking. Civilised, without yelling and snarling. It started down at the coast, Fenris doesn't even remember what he said but somehow Anders launched into a passionate speech against slavery, swearing to tear every single magister apart and Fenris found himself staring at the mage with a strange feeling in his chest.

Now they just walk through the streets of Kirkwall, both reluctant to call an end to the day. Hawke left them a while ago, waving at them from the door of her mansion and Fenris and Anders somehow took it upon them to patrol the streets of Lowtown. He doesn't know why. It's as if they don't want to part, not yet.

He is recalling a meal he once tasted, a tevinter speciality, and Anders compares it to something he once ate in Orlais, guessing at ingredients, herbs. They're distracted. He is distracted.

It's the only explanation he has because one minute he wonders at the glitter in Anders' eyes and the next his ears are ringing and the lyrium in his skin is burning and the setting sun blinks through a wall of templar armor.

They're threatening him, not Anders. "Feels like a mage", one of them says with a feral grin. "Smells like a dose," another leers. They step closer, five of them, too many to kill all at once, not here, in his small alley where he can't swing his sword.

And then Anders steps in. His simple part time walking stick, part time spear, glows with the fade, crackling as he slams it into the ground, making the cobblestones vibrate. He takes out two templars, skewering them with ice shards and then burning them to ash. Fenris sinks his fist in one templar, taking out his heart, and then into the other, who steps forward as if nothing could hurt him. But the last one, smarter than his friends, side steps behind Anders, casts Silence, and then plunges a knife into Anders' neck.

Fenris can only watch as Anders stares at him, his hand pressed against his neck. Blood wells up between his fingers, so much blood. The templar runs off, and Fenris catches Anders in his arms as he falls. Anders' eyes are open, looking at him, his mouth silently opening and closing.

"Can you heal?" Fenris asks, pressing his hand over Anders'.

"No, silenced," Anders presses out. Blood drips from both their hands, sluggish but steady. Fenris fumbles for a health potion, pouring one half over the wound and dipping the rest into Anders' mouth. The bleeding slows, but Anders' eyes roll back and he hangs like a sack of grains in Fenris' arms.

Fenris carries him to Hawke's mansion, kicking the door until Bodhan opens it with a loaded crossbow aimed at him. "Serah Fenris, my apologies."

"Help." Fenris carries the mage past Bodhan into the hall. "Hawke! Come here!"

"What?" Hawke appears at the top of the stairs and starts running down when she sees them. "Shit, fuck, put him on the couch there. Bodhan, fetch the injury kit, please." She's by his side in the blink of an eye, efficiently checking the wound. Bodhan hands her a bag and she is busy applying a poultice and bandages.

Fenris steps back. He can't do anything and he doesn't want to be in the way. His hands, arms, and his armor are full of Anders' blood and he walks to the washroom to clean himself up. Pink water swirls down the drain as he cleans his hands. Anders' blood.

"Fenris?" Hawke puts her hand on his shoulder, waking him from a strange kind of stupor. His hands are cold, still suspended in the cold, pink water.

"How..." He just looks at her, lifting his hands from the water.

"He's going to be fine, he just lost a lot of blood." Hawke takes a towel and dries his hands with it. "How are you?"

"I'm... I..." Tears fall from his eyes and his breath turns into a heaving sob. "I nearly lost him."

"I didn't know you felt this way," Hawke says quietly.

Fenris hasn't cried in years but now he can't seem to stop, the tears just roll down his cheeks, gathering in the corners of his lips. They taste salty.

"Come," Hawke says and takes his hand. She leads him over to the couch where Anders rests. He looks pale, nearly as white as the thick bandages at his neck but he breathes evenly.

Fenris stops, letting his hand slip out of Hawke's grasp. "Will you watch him?"

"No."

"What?" Fenris stares at her.

Hawke grins at him. "You will watch him. And don't give me that 'I must keep my feelings secret because I'm a tortured soul' bullshit." She grabs his hand again and pulls him to a chair next to the couch. "Sit your ass down and don't you dare sneak away."

"Hawke, I... I can't." Despite his protests, he sits down, looking at Anders.

Hawke looms over him, pressing him deeper into the chair. "I have never seen you cry. I have never even seen you show a strong emotion, except for when you hiss at mages. And now you cried because Anders nearly died and I may be a romantic idiot but you're gonna stay here, and hold his hand, and when he wakes up, you're going to tell him that you're happy he's alive. Understood?"

Fenris takes Anders' hand, wrapping his fingers around it one by one. "Why is this so important to you?"

Her face turns dark. "Because happiness is scarce in this shit town." She straightens and looks Anders over. "He'll be fine. I'm going back to bed." She puts her hand on top of his, the one that is holding Anders' hand. "It's your life, Fenris. Don't run away from it."

Hawke leaves with a nod, climbing up the stairs. Fenris pulls the chair closer and watches Anders breathe. Another tear adds to the salty taste in his mouth. He nearly lost him and he didn't even know what that meant.

#fenders #Fenris #Anders #fenders fic #Fenris x Anders #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #my writing

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dumbdolphin3 · 1 year ago

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OK THIS IS A RANT WITH ZERO PUNCTUATION IN ALL CAPS AND SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL EPS. 1-4!!!!

OK SO I JUST FINISHED WATCHING THEM AND OH MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE IT SOOOO MUCH ITS AMAZING AND BEAUTIFUL AND OH MY FUCKING GOD IM GONNA RANT ABOUT THE CHARACTERS AND THE EPISODES MAYBE IDKKKKK

CHARLIE GIRL YOU ARE SO WHOLEOSME AND I OOVE YOU BUT GODDAMN STOP TAKING PEOPLE’S SHIT JUST BECAUSE YOU AHVE TO BE NICE. ALTHOUGH WHEN YOU WENT DEMON FIRM AT VAL FOR FUCKING ABUSING ANGEL HELLLLLL YEAH THATS MY gIRL ILYSM. AND HER FEELING GUILTY FIR EVERYTHING LIEK IT WAS PARTLY YOUR FAULT BUT NO STOP REVEALING MY OWN PROBLEMS TO ME “YOU FIX EVERYONE’S PROBLEMS EXCEPT YOUR OWN” STOP IT HUSK STOP IT.

SPEAKING OF HUSK MY FAVORITE CHARACTER, MY BELOVED. I OOVE THIS WISE OLD BARTENDER. HIM IN THE 4TH EPISODE… AHHHHHHHHH MY HUSKERDUST HEART!!! AND IF HIS AND ALASTOR’S RELATIONSHIP AND PAST DONT GET DEEPLY DIVEN INTO IN THE SHOW I WILL NOT HESITATE TO FUCKING MAKE JY WAY TO FUCKING HEAD WRITER AND MAKE IT HAPPEN. AND HIM TAKING CARE OF ANGEL. GET FUCKING MARRIED (JKJK I LOVE A SLOWBURN (SERIOUSLY ATYD TOOK LIKE 70 CHAPTERS AT KEAST FOR FEELINGS TO EVEN HAPPEN)) AND HIM RELATING TI ANGELLLL AND THEIR DUETTTTTT!!!

AND NOW ANGEL. MY GOD I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU VAKENTINO YOU DO NOT GET TO HURT MY SECOND FAVORITE CHARACTER AND JUST EXPECT ME NOT TO BRANDISH MY FUCKING KNOFE JUST BCUZ YOU ARE FICTIONAL AND THERE IS NO POSSIBLE WAY I COULD KILL YOU. I WILL GET A FUCKING ANGELIC WEAPON AND SKEWER YOU. NOW ENLUGH ABOUT THAT SHITHEAD ONTO OMGGGG ANGEL NO ONE CAN BEAT HUSK BUT GODDAMN ILYYYYY HIM AND VAGGIE HAVE A SUBLING RELATIONSHIP AND NO ONE CAN CONVIBCE ME OTHERIWSE. THEY ARE JUDGEMENTAL SHITS WHO HATE EACH OTHER AND WOULD THRIW EACH LTHER IN FRONT OF A CAR BUT WOULD KILL SOMEOBE IF THEY SOMUCH AS LOOKED AT THE OTHER THE WROBG WAY. ALSO IN EPSIDOE 2 HIM BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF SIR PENTIOUS. YES. AND HIM FEELING LEFT PUT UGHHHHHHH!,!

OK SIR PENTIOUS TIME BCUZ HE IS VOICED BY ALEX BRIGHTMAN AND I AM A FUCKING BEETLEJUICE STAN, AND ALSO A FIZZAROLI STAN (HE IS THE BEST THING THAT HAPPENED TI HELLUVA BOSS AND NO I WILL NOT DEBATE THIS) AND OMG HES SO SILLY HOW DID HE EVER GO TO HELL I CANT HES SO SWEET AND APOLOGETIC. I MEAN HE WAS AN ASSHOLE FOR LIEK TWO MINUTES AND HE DID ONLY APOLOGIZE AFTER GETTING THE SHIT BEATEN OUT IF HIM BUT THEN HE SANG A WHOLE SONG WITH CHARLIE AND HES SO SWEET I CANT- ALSO HIS WHOLE THING WITH NIFFTY SPEAKING OF NIFFTY…

I LOVE THIS LITTLE GREMLIN SHE IS PURE COMEDY GOLD AND SHE IS EVERYTHING. SHE HAS PROBABLY KILLED MORE PEOPLE THAN ALASTOR AND I LOVE THAT FOR HER. JUST WATCHING “INNICENTLY” WHILE ANGEL PLAYED HIS PORN VID… AND HER AND SIR PENTIOUSSSS “OOH HES A BAD BOY” AND THEN HER WALING IN RIGHT AFTER THE MUSICAL NUMBER BEING LIKE “I HATED THAT YOU’RE NOT A BAD BOY ANYMORE” I LITERALLY LOVE HER SHES SO UNDERRATED!!! AND HUSK JUST REFUSING TO SHARE WHAT KIND OF SHIT SHOW SHE IS!!, FUCKING LOVE HER.

ANYWAY VAGGIE AND CHARLIE ARE LITERALLY SO CUTE (I HAVE SOME CHAGGIE FANART I MADE I JUST UGHHHH LOVE THEM) AND VAGGIE IS SO SWEET ALSO HER WHOLE THING IN THE 3RD EPISODE WHERE SHE’S KINDA LIKE SHES A GENERAL IN THE MILITARY? I FEEL LIKE THAT MIGHT BE A POINT FOR THE VAGGIE IS AN EX-EXORCIST (IF THE EXORCISTS ARE STRCTURED LIKE AN ARMY (LOOK AT ME THEORIZING MATPAT WOULD BE PROUD)) ALSO HER BEING READY TO FUCKING KILL ANYONE LOVEEEEEE!!!

UM ANYWAY ITS ALASTOR TIME AND IF ALL THE COMPLEXITIES OF HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH LITERALLY EVERYONE IN THE CAST AREN’T EXPLAINED IN DEPTH I WILL FUCKING KILL SOMEBODY (PROBABLY VALENTINO I HATE HIM SO MUCH I JUST WANT TO TAKE A KNIFE AMD-) ANYWAY ALL OF ALASTOR’S MONENTS ARE AMAZING I LOVED THE CALLBACK TO “HA! no” AND HIM AND THE EGG BOIS——— ALSO HIS DUET WITH VOX??? AMAZING AND DID ANYONE ELSE NOTICE THAT IT LOW KEY KIND OF SOUNDED LIEK “INSANE” AT SOME PARTS? MY HAZBIN OBESSED MIND ATE THAT SHIT UPPPPP!

WELP THATS PRETTY MUCH ALL I HAVE TO SAY ON THE MAIN CAST ALSO JUST WANT TO MENTION THAT I LOVE HOW WHEN CHARACTERS SING THEY ARE ACTUALLY SINGING!!! LIKE I LOVE IT WHEN MUSICALS ACKNOWLEDGE THE SONGS IT MAKES ME HAPPY

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vaggie

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jinmukangwrites · 2 years ago

Text

wounds that remember

Just a little something I thought of while replaying Survivor.

Ao3

---

Cal was no stranger to lightsaber wounds, considering the amount of times he'd gone up against them. The thing with lightsaber wounds was that they burned. They sliced through skin and tissue like a hot knife through butter, only the flesh and tissue didn't simply melt, it boiled and blistered and immediately cauterized grotesquely in a way that not even Bacta would fully stop a permanent scar from forming.

Even the slightest nick, the barest slice, could send agony through every single nerve ending and consume all other thoughts.

Cal was no stranger to lightsaber wounds, but he'd gotten lucky that most of those wounds were just skims, breaths of a magma-hot blade past skin and through clothing. Even those brushes with the weapons could leave blistered burns for weeks to come with the near constant risk of infection and the added cherry on top of knowing what your own cooked skin and hair smelled like.

He was lucky, until he wasn't.

Cal still didn't know how to feel about the scar on his left side, near his ribs, just besides his navel. Sometimes, like the scars on his face or the countless ones along his arms and back, he forgot about it. Though, the months after waking up in the Mantis, half drowned and recently skewered, he thought about it a lot. Terror had been the first emotion he felt every time he looked down at the festering wound to change the bacta patches. Terror at being stabbed in the first place, but also terror at the monster who had stabbed him. Exasperation would come next, a desperate attempt to calm himself down with a little bit of humor, by silently grumbling that Darth Vader just had to stab Cal with Cal's saber, like he didn't deserve to be stabbed with his own. Morbid resignation would settle next, Vader hadn't only stabbed Cal with his lightsaber, but he had also simply used the Force to do so.

And then Cal would put on a new patch, pull down his shirt, throw on a poncho, and force himself to not think about it, even when the lingering pain never seemed to leave him.

It probably was the worst wound he'd ever suffered, but considering Cal's path in life, he wouldn't be surprised if the Force planned harsher wounds for the future. Two Inquisitors, a rogue Jedi, and a Sith Lord all in the span of a few standard weeks didn't bode well. Honestly he felt he should feel a little prideful that it took an actual Sith to finally stab him with one of the things rather than just graze him.

A few months later, the wound had fully healed into a puckered scar that could almost be mistaken for a blaster scar. He barely thought about it.

In fact, right now, scars and Sith Lords and escaping Nur by the skin of his teeth was the last thing on his mind. Not as he was currently just managing to jump out of the way of a charging bounty hunter.

Seriously, the Mantis had just stopped for a resupply on some backwater forest moon. The local city didn't even have a landing pad, that's how backwater it was. They had to land outside the city in the first clearing they found that was large enough to fit the Mantis. But Cere insisted they had fuel and food to sell. So while Cere and Greez went off to do magic with credits, Merrin, Cal, and Bd-1 took to exploring the surrounding forest, looking at the scenery, jumping out of the way of a suddenly charging bounty hunter. The usual.

How the bounty hunter had managed to track Cal down so quickly was beyond Cal. Those pucks were annoyingly accurate, and bounty hunters were annoyingly persistent. Cal whipped out his lightsaber and Merrin called upon her green fire as the bounty hunter came to a screeching stop, their jetpack whirring with the reek of burning fuel.

Merrin, however, flinched and spun around just in time to dodge the blaster fire of a second bounty hunter, both were recognizably members of the Haxion Brood. Cal silently groaned to himself. These guys didn't know when to quit.

Naturally, Merrin went into the forest after the one with the rifle while Cal took on the one with the jetpack. The bounty hunter called a taunt at Cal, lifting her blaster to try and shoot Cal. Cal responded by raising his saber just as the blaster bolt fired, reflecting it back at her.

And the dance continued.

Fighting these guys one on one was no longer a challenge, if Merrin wasn't here he'd be more worried, but she was, and that practically sealed the deal on their victory.

After blocking a series of blaster fire, the hunter landed on her own two feet to avoid overheating her jets. Seeing the opportunity, Cal charged forward. She ducked away from his swinging strike, her hand going to her belt and pulling out a small, circular device.

Cal cursed silently, jumping out of the way as she threw the detonator. From where he used to stand, a flash erupted, and a bang, a puff of sparks and smoke that had him losing visibility on his opponent for just a moment.

The whirl of jets firing met his ears, and before the smoke could clear the bounty hunter launched herself through the black vapor directly toward him.

Cal barely had enough time to gasp, let alone jump out of the way, before she slammed into him. The force of the blow squeezed the breath from his body. He grunted, arms instinctively going to her plates of armor as her momentum didn't hault. His boots rip from the ground, and his stomach rolled as they both lifted chaotically into the air. Blinking spots from his eyes, he swung his saber down. Her hand shot up, a snarl leaving her lips from beneath her helmet, and grabbed him around the wrist.

Then, pain blossomed through his back and his skull as they crashed into a tree. He screamed through his teeth, pressure squeezing the life out of him as her jets continued to fire, continuing to press her against him and him against the unmoving tree. He struggled against her hold, finding the second switch of his saber and erupting the second blade.

It cut through her immediately, striking down through her shoulder and out her hip. Her body shuddered as life left her, her corpse losing all control over the jets and sliding off of him.

Gravity took hold immediately. Cal barely had time to suck in a breath and turn off his blades before he began to fall. He flailed, trying to reach for anything to catch him, but nothing, not even a branch, revealed itself within hand's reach.

He landed in a heap on the forest floor, his breath getting knocked out of him a second time as he landed stomach down. BD-1 chirped worriedly as Cal took too many seconds to regain his bearings. Just the thought of moving felt daunting. He forced his elbows under him anyways, gritting his teeth and desperately trying to take stock of his condition. His spine protested, as did the back of his head, both a result from slamming into the tree. However, his ribs, knees, and hands stung from the ungraceful landing, his vision swimming.

And the second he moved his torso, he felt fire.

The pain was so shocking, so unexpected, that he cried out, a hand flying to his side to clutch at the sudden pain. His stomach clenched and spasmed, and he found himself curled into himself without even realizing it, squeezing his eyes and clenching his jaw.

Had she gotten a lucky hit on him? His fingers convulsed over the pain, finding no holes in the fabric of his poncho or shirt underneath. It took him a solid minute of hissing his breaths through his teeth to get his eyes open long enough to look at the agonizing damage.

And he found nothing.

Confusion swept through him. His side pulsed like he was burning from the inside out, but there was nothing visual to show for it.

BD-1 gave a string of binary, asking if he needed a STIM, but Cal couldn't find the words to say yes or no. He could only force himself up from his curled up position on the ground so he could slump against a tree. He needed to see what's wrong before deciding if a STIM would be helpful. Before he could even think of trying to untuck his shirt, the agony intensified for a moment, forcing his head back with a groan.

The whooshing sound of Magick announced Merrin's arrival. Her opponent clearly had been dealt with, and he almost slumped in relief.

"What's the matter," She asked, worry pinching her brow as she knelt down beside Cal. BD-1 answered with a few worried boops. She looked at where Cal clutched his hand over his side, then gently got to work.

"I don't know what it is," he gasped. The pain swirled within him, sharp and bright, with every movement.

"Breathe, Cal," she said, her hands poking at his side and batting his hands away.

It took monumental effort to keep his hands away, instead bringing them to his sides to clutch at the ground.

She eventually had his shirt lifted to see... nothing. No wound, no blood... nothing.

Merrin looked up at him, eyes worried. "Where is the pain?"

Cal looked down at his bare stomach, forcing his lungs to work as the fire burned within him. His eyes caught on that small, puckered scar, and he froze.

Suddenly, the pain was recognizable. It simmered, deeply and agonizing, and if he closed his eyes he could almost imagine himself back at the Fortress Inquisitorius... laying on his side as Darth Vader plunged his lightsaber through his side.

After the recognition came clarity.

And the pain began to settle.

"I-" he gasped, bringing his hand down to run his thumb over the smarting scar. The more he breathed, the more he thought about it, the more his adrenaline settled... the more the agony began to dull, leaving behind the very real aches and pains from the recent battle. "I think it was in my head," he finished with a whisper. Or maybe it wasn't, he didn't know.

"In your head...?" Merrin asked, tone deep and an eyebrow raised.

"Just... give me a moment."

Merrin gave him a visibly baffled look, but he ignored it in favor of closing his eyes and beginning a breathing exercise he had been taught ages ago as a youngling; being psychometric during a war did things to anxiety levels.

It took a few minutes, but soon every pain on his body became grounded in reality. There was no trace of the burning, pulsing agony in his side. When he opened his eyes, there was nothing but the scar, and the terror, exasperation, morbid recognition. He thought back to his time on Bracca, for a moment. He'd met many other scrappers there, some who had seen worse times than him. He remembered, in particular, an older gentleman who had scars all along his body from some horrific accident while scraping. He was constantly grumpy, practically barked at you if you accidentally bumped into him, and on the worst of the thundering days on Bracca, you could see his hands shake.

When Cal asked what was wrong with him, Prauf had explained that wounds remembered. Even though he was healed now, the pain sometimes liked to rudely remind of their existence from time to time, particularly during harsh storms.

Cal doubted that was fully the case for himself, but he couldn't think of any other reason why this wound would hurt so badly right out of nowhere. Perhaps it was getting plowed into the stomach and lifted into the air, maybe it was the drop, or maybe it was just the adrenaline.

He took a final, deep breath, pushing the strange experience out of his mind.

"I'm good," he said, finally.

Merrin looked unimpressed. "Am I going to get an explanation?"

He brought one hand to the back of his head, laughing weakly as he slowly hefted himself to his feet. "I don't think I have one. I think... the lightsaber wound was just acting up. Or my brain thought it was. I don't know." He gave a helpless shrug.

She frowned, but joined him standing while BD-1 climbed up his leg and settled on his shoulder.

"Will this... acting up happen again?"

Cal stretched his shoulders, wincing as it pulled on his smarting spine. "Kinda hoping that was a one time thing."

It wasn't.

It happened many times more over the years. Most of the time it would be after taking some trauma to his torso, but sometimes it would flare for no reason at all. He found, at one particular outing to a constantly thunderous planet, that the pain lingered with no fading until he got out of there.

He never got used to it, just got better at recognizing it and breathing, fighting, through it. His wound remembered, always reminding him that an evil like Darth Vader, like the Empire itself, was out there and that he wasn't invincible.

He wouldn't let it stop him, though. It didn't make him weak, even if sometimes it had him finding the nearest, safest place to curl up and sob into his arm. If it wanted to remind him constantly of his own fear and mortality, then he'd let it.

Because it also reminded him that he survived.

Someday, Cal will meet Darth Vader again, he will cross blades, and next time, the monster won't get another hit like that on Cal. The scar, and the pain, may remain, but the Empire wouldn't.

Not if Cal had anything to say about it.

#cal kestis #nightsister merrin #star wars jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order #star wars jedi survivor #jedi survivor #jin writes #fanfiction

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