#leaving him to go to sleep every night wondering about the strange woman

[justasightseer]

Back again with my bestest boy(s). This one is dedicated in part, to Alfred×Uhtred, the most iconic and influential relationship in the show. I personally don't ship them romantically, but their dynamic is so electric that I can see why many do.

To The King and his Lionheart, to Head and Heart, to Brains and Brawns 🍻

Also, isn't it absolutely INSANE that this is the first time they touch hands??? These men have known and cared for each other for TWO DECADES and this is the very first time???? That they hold hands?? And it's only for a few seconds???? I mean, I'm not the touchy-feely type myself but male culture is actually ridiculous 😭

[lincolndjarin]

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 

“My entire Christmas bonus.” 

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 

“Please, Steve.” 

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 

Javier P. 

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 

Every single woman, except you. 

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 

Red chipped paint. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 

Probably. 

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 

Jesus. 

You know way too much about him. 

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected. 

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 

Javier traded for your name? 

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 

Javier’s office. 

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 

What a foolish question. 

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 

“So this is about the secret Santa.” 

Of course he wouldn’t get it. 

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 

Jesus you’re soaked. 

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

[mysicklove-main]

A/N: Tanjiro writing to his long distance partner bc thats so cute and im in love with him

My Beloved,

I feel as though a part of me is missing without you by my side. I find myself constantly looking for you, even though it’s no use. Oh how dearly I wish you were here. But even so, I feel at peace knowing you are at home and well rested. Safe from harm.

I can’t contain my questions. So please make do with my ramblings.

How are you? Are you sleeping well? Do you feel lonely at home? Have you been keeping busy? Has Shinobu been visiting you? Where Has your hair grown out since my absence? You haven’t been going out at night, right? Is your finger still bare?

I’ve been growing quite worried with the time apart. I feel as though you may find another if I leave for too long.

I’m sorry, I know you would scold me for thinking these things. I wish desperately that I could hear your scolding. But I can’t stop the thoughts that creep on me in the night.

Nezuko is doing fine. She’s getting stronger by the day. She misses you immensely. It’s strange to see how uneasy she is without you. I don’t blame her. I wonder, if you were

Inosuke and Zenitsu are also getting stronger. I hope I can keep up with them. I train day in and out hoping to not fall behind. I think I am getting stronger. I have been working on Hinokami Kagura. It drains my body, but still I push forward. I have to master it, even if it is such a slow process.

At night I find myself daydreaming. Maybe one day you could call your husband lover a hashira. Would we live together peacefully? Or would I be gone on missions like these? I don’t think I could bear to leave you for long. It’s so hard t But I am getting ahead of myself. I am only doing this to save Nezuko. And of course to protect you! I don't need to become a hashira.

I hope my crow has been delivering the gifts properly. I wish I could see the way your eyes light up when you receive them. I’m trying not to let the separation get to me, but when I think about these moments it’s always so hard.

I’m getting distracted again, I apologize my love. The crow should have delivered you the jewelry box. A kind woman sold it to me, and please don’t worry! I promise that it was fairly priced! I hope through its journey that it didn’t get chipped. But I know you don’t care about those things. Either way, I hope you use it well.

My beloved, I do have a favor to ask of you. I hope this is not too much to ask, but the same woman from the market told me about something that cannot seem to leave my head. She explained that many soldiers from the Meiji period used to tie fabric from their lover's kimono around the hem of their sword. It was a symbol of good luck, and that they will always be together no matter the distance between them.

I thought it was…romantic. It made my cheeks burn at the thought. I really I would love if I understand completely if you don’t want to tear a part off. But I can’t explain the joy I would feel if you did. I would treasure it dearly.

I have been avoiding the real reason I wrote this letter and I can’t go on without saying it. Oh, my love, I miss you dearly. I miss the scent of you. I miss your smile, your laugh. I miss waking up to you every morning, that vision never seems to leave my mind. I miss your voice, your touch. I desperately crave it.

I’m sorry. A man shouldn’t act like that. Tengen left his wives for months, and was completely fine. I wish I could do the same. It’s been five weeks and the fight seems to dwindle in me without you here.

I’m trying though. I won’t give up. I will make it home to you and then I swear I’ll never leave you again.

A couple more weeks until I am home. The thought of you in my arms once again makes me feel dizzy with need. I will come back safely for you.

So please, my everything, please take care of yourself. I can’t bear the thought of you being unwell. Please stay safe and don’t walk alone at night. Please eat lots and sleep well.

I will write to you next week with more updates. I promise the next one will be less about me and more about you. I want to hear everything about how you are doing.

I await for your reply, and hopefully the fabric.

I love you more than words can describe.

Forever yours,

Tanjiro

[missmarveledsblog]

Call me cupid part two (Joel Miller x reader)

Summary: after reassuring ellie sunshine was ok joel was finding himself more drawn to the woman, the two find an indifference on who should have the only bed and a face from sunshines past shows up leading from the best morning in a long while to the all too familiar feeling of fear

warnings : It's a fluff age gap sort of thing. angsty too soz , one bed trope , shitty people from the past , tommy and ellie being loveable yet smart asses

Walking into the millers was different than before , granted she was there during the day and leaving when the sun is setting  . The second she walked through the threshold she felt a pair of arms wrapping around her waist almost knocking her back out the door with the force.

" she's ok ellie" she could hear joel's voice as her eyes looked down to see the girl holding her tightly.

" it was a nightmare i promise i'm safe" sunshine held the girl rubbing her head feeling the worried tears soaking through her shirt  . "

you scared me " though it was muffled she could hear the girls words as clear as day .

" i'm sorry i scared you i promise i'm ok " she cooed kissing the girl on top of the head . " hey how about i come up sit with you til you fall asleep " she offered earning a nod in return. he watched as Ellie had a hold on her , pulling her hand as they walked up the stair , reminding him of sarah when she would have a bad night . He watched as sunshine completely put aside her own fear she still clearly had just   to make sure Ellie was OK. He noticed that a lot how she would help anyone out no matter what was going on , he wondered how many times she done it when she was not feeling the best or when she was battling something no one could see. 

That caring good nature was one of things he fell for . It was between that and  her smile one that could melt the icebergs in seconds it was radiating warmness  , her eyes that weren't dulled by the shit storm of the world , one's that still  had a twinkle and a shine to them . though she was kind hearted soul , she still had that fire in her not afraid to let someone know her opinion or stick up for someone if they needed it . It wasn't hard to fall for sunshine though he knew he was older hell everyone gave them strange looks but even that didn't matter anymore , he was happy just to be her friend but maybe if he got the chance. Take the big jump and see if she felt the same , was that worth the risk of losing the friendship with such a person . Would Ellie forgive him for ruining it . There it was the part holding him back , the fear he held on to so tight .

" hey she's out cold " her voice rang through his every fibre of his soul .

" go take my bed " he smiled softly already seeing her ready to fight him on it .

" nuh uh now I will take the couch , unless you need me to tell you stories to help you go sleep I will go set up " she teased already going to grab her things only he was quicker .

" you can tell me your story when I set up on the couch , now darling I ain't taking no for an answer get that ass up those stairs and get yourself comfy " he ordered only for her to cross her arms and arch her brow letting him know she wasn't giving up on it . " I ain't taking your bed , plus your back fucked as is , sleeping on that  sofa ain't gonna work for it so give me my things" she huffed going to grab them but it was useless he didn't even bother to retort , just walking past her and making his way up the stair as she whisper yell the whole time wanting to get her point across yet not disturb the sleeping girl in the room across . " oh you stubborn old fool " she huffed .

Before she even realised she had done it she pulled the man on the bed sitting on top of him . " I ain't getting up til you either accept I sleep on couch or til you fall asleep " even she was impressed, she could keep her tone strict, giving the close proximity and her own stupid move.

" So you're gonna be koala now , this is childish take the bed " he was laughing full on bell laugh .

" well I guess I'm a koala " she nodded not moving though she should before she did or said something stupid , holding her stubborn front .

" ok ok how bout we share the damn bed , it's big enough " he rolled his eyes pretending he wasn't in absolute heaven giving the situation .

" ok deal " she beamed taking it as a win climbing over to the inside of the bed. Pulling her shoes off and throwing them across the room . The delight in her win short live when she turned seeing the man taking his shirt off making her mouth salvate and dry up all in one go . The broad shoulder she would look at almost tripping her up due to the hold they had on her , tanned skin littered in scars showing how he didn't have it easy either during the who apocalypse.

" stop staring and go sleep you " he smirked hiding his face from her .

" i was koala at wrong damn time " she mumbled turning around her eyes heavy as sleep took over well not before she had the feeling the weight of his arms  around her waist .

" wakey wakey love birds " Ellie voice rang out through the room making her groan and her head nuzzle more in his neck... Shit his neck. Her eyes flew open before she went to pull back only to feel his hands pull her in more .

" we will be up in a minute go way " joel's sleepy voice had her biting her lips so hard she could of sworn she tasted blood .

" joel and sunshine sitting in a tree " Ellie sang walking down the stairs .

" we gotta get up you know " she mumbled her hair ghosting over his chest .

" fine i'll go make coffee you get changed " he groaned getting up out of the bed giving her one last look before going to join Ellie. Now that he was not looking forward to,The teasing that awaited him just down those stairs while in his room she was changing .

" well you sly dog " god he wished the ground would swallow him whole  , seemed everyone in his damn house .

" why you here Tommy " he almost growled walking to start making the coffee .

" was going to tell you patrol is covered when i  seen sunshine's door was open , well spilt in half , I'll get some one fix that . I wanted to make sure she was ok , but my surprise to see my grumpy big brother cuddling like a dang Teddy bear " he could barely get the words out and he and Ellie fell over laughing.

" oh hey tommy " she flushed seeing the younger man there .

" well ain't you radiant this morning " he teased.

" Well ain't you an ass all the time " she bit back .

" your off patrol while you cuddle bugs were enjoying your morning I got someone to fill in for you I can't stay long got two new faces this morning , meeting them in canteen " .

" oh wait me and Ellie will go we wanna judge them " she giggled throwing her shoes on as Ellie nodded running off to grab her own .

The two girls stayed behind wondering who the newbies were , how they would fit in . While Joel was being the butt of all Tommy's wise crack and for first time he didn't give a shit , he had the best sleep in decades . They walked in seeing the the couple standing in center of the room watching everything around them .

" hey sunshine you ok " Ellie words had the men turning to see the usually happy woman completely still.

" I'll be a son of a gun y/n is that you " the man called making her stomach turned .

" hey its your little friend " the woman snidely smirked .

" you son of a bitch " One minute she was there next she was barging toward the two .

" hey hey look it's in the past now you  best get over it " he shrugged .

" get over it ,you left me for that , took everything I had, left me on my own not caring if I could defend myself or not you selfish cheating son of a bitch " she yelled making everyone's gaze land on the commotion.

"Oh still your mad he got better childish really " the woman snickered .

" ain't no one around than sunshine , miss " a man stood .

" she not worth it , never was something to keep the bed warm "her  ex growled .

" we ain't want them here " another called. " yeah anyone who could hurt sunshine can't be trusted " she stood in awe as the towns folk stood up for her .

" sunshine what do you think? " Tommy asked.

" I wanna say let them stay but they will take everything you have when your backs turned , hell i doubt their even truly alone  " she turned only to hear the click of the gun and the feeling of the barrel on her back .

" now honey why you gotta go and say such a thing like that " .

Part 3

[pascaloverx]

Rewrite The Stars

Chapter Two

Summary: One photo changes your whole life, when you accidentally bump into a celebrity and the world starts to believe that you are a couple.

chapter one. chapter three

The next day you woke up with a sore body, feeling as if life had shaken you. You lost your job and your dignity in the same night. But at least he met Pedro Pascal and spoke to him. Unfortunately this won't pay your bills but it will be a good story to tell your future children. You slowly get up feeling the daylight hitting your face. You woke up to your cell phone ringing like crazy. Damn charges that don't let an unemployed woman sleep in peace. But there's something different today, a strange noise outside of people almost whispering. None of your neighbors whisper. Everyone either shouts or speaks very loudly, which in your ears is the same thing. Will someone be arrested or caught cheating in an apartment near yours?

Your curiosity takes over you and you peek out the window while watching countless messages from your best friend. She first asks if you have anything to tell her, then tells you to turn on the tv. You don't understand anything, and on the street there are people hiding near your apartment like vultures. Then you turn on the television and come across photos of you and Pedro Pascal last night. Photos taken out of context.

Without context, what was him stopping me from falling to the ground turned into him holding me romantically. And him giving you the check as a tip became him paying for the "time" you spent together. What the hell is that?

You take out your cell phone and search for the mysterious woman who is having an affair with Pedro Pascal and several pages appear with those photos you saw on television. But you were still feeling safe until you saw a post written by your old boss telling the world who this mysterious woman was. And you started to understand who the people outside your apartment were. You began to feel the world around you becoming suffocating. On the internet, there are people wondering what you are to Pedro Pascal: a lover, girlfriend or stalker?

It was when an unknown number called you that you focused on something else, regardless of how confused you were.

"Can you leave your apartment through the back and go to the corner? There's a car waiting." A woman speaks with a serious and assertive tone. You wonder if this isn't some prank or parallel universe where you get screwed every day of your life.

"If you tell me who you are, I can get out the building's fire exit and be in that car in five minutes." You speak with distrust of whoever is on the other side of the call.

"Mr. Pascal's agent. Now be discreet and don't be funny." She says seconds before hanging up on your face. Kind of rude but if she's offering you a way out, that's what you're going to do. It takes no more than two minutes for you to put on a sweatshirt before heading down the fire escape. Yes, you're wearing pajamas but you didn't think you'd have time to take a shower.

"You walk too slowly for a person who's running away, you know?" The same voice on the phone says this to you as you get into the car.

"And you're very rude for someone who makes a living managing famous people, since we're being inconvenient." You say as you sit in the car, putting on your seatbelt then. Only then do you notice that Mr. Pascal is in the car too. In fact, you're sitting next to him. Which is unusual to say the least.

"The girl is right. Sorry for the commotion but we're out of time, which isn't an excuse." Pedro Pascal speaks the first part, addressing the woman in the passenger seat and then speaks looking at you. He extends his hands towards you and you greet him, shaking hands.

"I imagine you're aware that the world thinks you two are having an affair. And while it's not true, it's gotten the media's attention." Pascal's agent doesn't even introduce herself and starts talking about the topic of the moment.

"Let me guess, you think I faked everything and you want me to disappear with the photos?" In today's world, you know that people rarely trust each other.

"I know it wasn't you. Not to mention that anyone wouldn't risk hitting their head on the floor to create a scandal. But we need to resolve this, for the good of both." Pedro Pascal says, looking in your direction deftly. It even seems like he trusts your good intentions.

"For an older man, you trust people easily. But I didn't really publish the photos, or force any of those moments with you." You speak thinking you just accused one of your favorite actors of being naive.

"I don't know what offended me more, being called old or naive. You seemed kinder yesterday." Mr. Pascal speaks pretending to be hurt, which is kind of cute in your opinion.

"Look at them, already tuned in as a couple. It's going to be perfect." The agent speaks in a genuine tone of happiness, which you find strange.

"I'm sorry, what's going to be perfect?" You ask, confused about what she meant.

"You two will be the next Cinderella couple of this generation. The internet is already highly mobilized to know what you are to each other, what you do together. Of course, there are haters but there are many supporters of this couple." She speaks so seriously that you have to laugh. No one will ever believe that you are dating.

"Sorry, but have you gone crazy? Who's going to believe I'm dating him?" You say in total disbelief that this will work.

"We'll leave the details for later, but don't worry. All you have to do is take this relationship contract with you and read it. If you agree, you and Pedro have started a fake relationship as soon as possible. If you refuse, let's pretend this proposal never existed and you can move on with your life." The agent speaks and then asks the car driver to stop near your building.

"And you agreed to all of this?" That's all you say, holding the contract in your hands and getting ready to get out of the car. The question was clearly directed at Mr. Pascal, who seemed surprised.

"I decided to give you a chance, I hope you give me the same opportunity to be your fake boyfriend." That's all he says, opening the car door for you. And then you got out of the car feeling like you were trapped in a very crazy dream.

[thatlovinfeelin]

Flightless Bird | seventeen | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Synopsis: Josephine Wilson Miller is alone for the first time in her life. She got married after her first year of college and became a housewife, but that life is gone now. So she runs to San Diego, to her childhood best friend Jake, where she meets the man who could very well be her salvation.

series warnings: unplanned pregnancy, just pregnancy in general, talks of infertility. past mental and emotional abuse. anxiety. talks of women's reproductive systems (idk)

Jose and baby Florence, or Wren as they’d taken to calling her, came home a few days later. Wren seemed like an easy baby, sleeping through the nights and eating on a pretty regular  schedule. Jose felt more than lucky. Jake’s mom flew in to help for the first few weeks, plus Penny was only ever a phone call away. 

Jake, Bradley, and Natasha stayed as close as they could, leaving only to work. Bradley found himself sleeping in bed next to Jose most nights, just so he could help her take care of any night feedings that Wren needed. He also learned how to change diapers very quickly. 

Secretly, Bradley liked being able to spend time with the little baby. He found it very  soothing. Some nights when he couldn’t sleep, and Wren was just laying awake in her little bassinet, he would take her out into the living room. He’d prop her up on his knees and just talk to her for hours. Jose never knew that. Although Jake walked out during one of those late nights. On occasion, if Jake couldn’t sleep too, he’d join Bradley and they’d take turns with Wren. 

She was good at calming down the two aviators. Her soft little coos seemed to put them at ease in some strange sort of way. Like holding her just made the rest of the world go quiet, and they could finally think again. Or be free not to think, and just sort of exist in her presence. 

Jose was in love with her little daughter, she could stare at her forever. She loved the way that she would grab her finger and hold on as tightly as she could. Wren’s little hands would grab onto anything she could find, hair, fingers, clothes, anything.

The days turned into weeks, which turned into months. Suddenly Wren was six months old and babbling away at everything. Jose’s heart hurt thinking about how fast her little girl was growing up. She wished she could just freeze time. 

Her life with Bradley seemed almost perfect, so much so that it didn’t seem real. He stayed most nights, cuddling in beside Jose, and often woke up to take care of Wren before Jose could even make any sort of move to get to her daughter. 

Jake was always around, ready to help with absolutely anything that needed to be done. It was soothing to Jose to have both of the men in her life. Not to mention Phoenix, who was an absolute Godsend. The other woman was there to help her with any female related things, and Penny too. Jose’s little family felt so right, she didn’t want anything to change it. 

But then she found the letter on Bradley’s kitchen table one day. He was up for a promotion, and a spot with the Blue Angels…something he’d only dreamt of. Jose swallowed a thick lump in her throat and put the letter back. It was sent more than a week ago and he hadn’t mentioned a thing about it. 

Worry bubbled up in her. He wasn’t going to take the position, which meant he’d be giving up on his dream. She knew it was because of her…she was the reason he would give it up. There didn’t seem to be another valid reason behind it. He was happy here with her, sure, but would that last?

How long until he started to resent her and Wren because they kept him away from something he loved. He would be out of combat situations and be a spokesperson for the Navy and fighter pilots in every branch. He would be wonderful at it too. He was so good with kids, there’s no way the public wouldn’t love him. 

But he hadn’t even mentioned it. 

She debated talking to Jake and Phoenix about it, maybe even Penny and Mav since they were Bradley’s family. But instead she kept it to herself. She made her way back to her house across the street, Wren clutched tightly in her arms and tried to decide what she would do. 

The letter stated that he needed to give an answer by the end of this week, and it was already Wednesday. They were out of time. Both of them. Jose’s chest ached. She wished she could call Penny for advice, but Bradley obviously hadn’t told a soul about this potential position. 

Wren wiggled about, nuzzling deeper into her mother’s neck. It was time for her afternoon nap, and the little baby was no doubt ready for it. 

With a sigh, Jose made her way towards the nursery and carefully laid her little girl in the crib. It was a gift from Mav and Penny, even though Jose tried not to accept it, they wouldn’t hear anything about it. They took to calling themselves Wren’s adopted grandma and grandpa; the verdict was still out on their official names though. 

“Baby?” Bradley called, opening the front door. 

“In the kitchen,” She called back, softly enough that he could hear but not loud enough to wake Wren. 

He was on her in an instant, arms wrapped around her with his chin on her shoulder. She relaxed in his arms for a moment as she cleaned the bottles. There always seemed to be something in need of cleaning these days. Clothes needing to be washed, bottles needing to be cleaned…always something. 

“How was your day?” He asked her softly, kissing her neck. 

“It was…good,” Does she tell him she knows about his possible promotion and new position? Or does she just leave it alone? 

“Yeah? What did you and our little Wrennie do today?”

Her heart clenched. Our little Wrennie. They started calling her that not long after she was born. Bradley might as well have been her father, with the way he was always here to take care of her and Jose. But how could Jose ask him to give up his dream for them? How could she ask for him to stay?

“We went and cleaned up your house a bit,” She shrugged. Here it comes, no going back, “I found your papers.”

“My papers?” Bradley tried to act dumb. He knew exactly what she was talking about of course. But maybe he could steer the conversation back away from them and forget all about them, like he’d been trying to do since he got them two weeks ago. 

“Brad,” She turned in his arms, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was his turn to shrug now, “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I’ll still get promoted, but I just won’t take the posting.”

“Baby, it’s the Blue Angels, you’ve always dreamed of flying for them!”

“I always dreamed of having this,” He replied simply, “A family of my own.”

Jose swallowed the lump in her throat. He was going to turn it down and stay here. But now long until he started to hate them for making him stay? He would start to resent them, and she couldn’t imagine him resenting little Wren. It broke her heart. He would leave them one day, because he would realize that they just weren’t enough for him. 

The day would come. She knew it would. All she wanted was for him to live out his dream, and if that meant forcing him to leave her, then so be it. She would make sure he found his way to Pensacola, Florida and to the Blue Angels. 

“You aren’t her father,” She said so quietly, but she knew he heard her from the way his arms dropped. 

“I know that,” He said gruffly. 

“We aren’t a family,” She went on, each word slicing deeper and deeper into her heart, “You’re just playing house.”

“Don’t tell me that,” His tone changed, he was starting to get angry, “You know that this is a lot more than that.”

“Is it?” She questioned, “Because I don’t think it is.”

He stepped away from her, hurt flashing in his eyes. She knew she had to keep going. He wouldn’t leave with just a few angry words. She had to make sure he would take the posting and go, for his own good. She had to drive the knife in further, go past the point of no return for them. And Jose would do it all for Bradley.

She would hurt herself for him to make sure that he would be happy in the long run. She wanted nothing more than for him to be happy and healthy and living his dream. She could already imagine him in the Blue Angels uniform, doing interviews and being a perfect candidate for them. He was so good with people, and amazing with children. He could talk to the young flight students in Pensacola and tell them all of his old war stories, and what it was like flying with the absolute best fighter pilots in the nation. He would love every minute of it, she knew he would. 

“I think you should go,” Jose told him, “Stop playing here with us. We don’t need you.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because Wren and I will be just fine without you!” She exclaimed, not believing a word she said, “You’ve just been here to keep me warm. I don’t need you, and Wren doesn’t need a fake father. So stop pretending.”

“Stop talking like this,” He begged, “This isn’t you.”

“It’s time to wake up, Rooster,” She never used his callsign, she always called him Bradley or Brad. She hated the way the simple name sounded coming from her lips, “It’s time to stop playing house. You need to take that post and leave us alone.”

“Is that really what you want?” His anger was back again, he was ready to fight for them. For his little family, he wouldn’t let her push him away.

“Yes! God, you’re so stupid,” Jose hated herself. He was one of the smartest people around. She knew he would fight as long as there was a chance, she knew she had to take away all hope for them, even if it destroyed her in the process, “I don’t love you. I was just using you. It was pregnancy hormones, I needed someone. You were right before.”

“Don’t you fucking do this Josephine.”

“I don’t love you. So take the damned position and forget about us, okay? Do yourself a favor for once in your fucking life.” 

“If I walk out that door right now, it’s over,” He told her coldly, “I’m never coming back, do you understand me?”

The house was silent for a moment while he waited for her to respond. She felt like she was going to be sick. All she wanted to do was beg for his forgiveness and take it all back. She knew he would stay with just one word, but that was the problem. He needed to go, for his own sake. 

“Leave then,” She replied, regretting the moment it left her lips, “I don’t care. I never did.”

He scoffed and turned on his heel, “Goodbye Josephine.”

She waited until the door closed, carefully and not slammed like she expected, before she followed. She watched out of the window as he stomped to his Bronco and drove away. He didn’t even go home. It was then that the tears started to fall. She couldn’t stop them even if she tried. 

She slid down the door to the ground and sobbed. Her chest felt like it was going to split into two. She tried her best to be quiet, so she wouldn’t wake Wren. But the sobs were so loud they rang through the quiet house. 

Then Wren started to cry from her little nursery. Jose tried to control her breathing but it was getting harder. She wiped at her tears, trying to dry off her face before she went into the nursery, but it seemed impossible. 

“I’m coming baby,” She called through the house, and then she pushed herself off of the ground and vowed to stop crying. This was for the best. Bradley might even thank her one day. 

She carefully picked up Wren, who was due for a feeding, “Just you and me now, baby girl. Just you and me.”

[herearedragons]

The Hanged Man (chapter 1)

Read on AO3

Notes: This fic relies on some plot points from the short story "The Reaping". If you want the full context for the fic without having to read the short story (which I do recommend, btw), see the AO3 notes or scroll to the bottom of this post.

Edér had imagined his own death way too many times.

There was the war, for one. He'd try not to think about it much, but sometimes things would happen and leave him wondering if that would be him, too.

Stabbing. Slashing. Arrows. Bolts. Broken necks, burned bodies. Slow deaths from wounds gone bad.

And besides your usual pick of deaths, there was Eothas.

Edér knew for a fact he wasn't the only one thinking about it. Lots of soldiers back then were going to sleep every night wondering if they'd just be... smitten out of existence, before they ever woke up.

Close your eyes, and the next thing you see is your god, and he goes well, Edér, you chose the wrong side, so welcome to being dead. No rebirth for you, either. Right into the void with you.

Not the most fun thought to fall asleep with.

Lately, though, it had all been the same thing. The rough, heavy noose around his neck, hands tied behind his back; the creaking of old barren branches above his head, and all of Gilded Vale staring up at him.

The funny thing was, now that he was there for real, it almost felt fake. The rope against his skin; the barrel that would soon be kicked out from under his feet; the silent grey crowd; there was a weird flatness to it all. It was all wrong, just a little off from how it appeared in his recurring dreams.

His dreams didn’t account for the rain, either. 

It was just a light drizzle, but Edér had been standing under it for a while, in the same shirt and trousers he fell asleep in the night before, and by now he was soaked and chilled to the bone.

Part of him was starting to wish they’d just get it over with.

And to think that he almost got out. He should have left as soon as the bell tolled three times yesterday, instead of putting it off until next morning.

Maybe he could have tagged along with that Watcher and the twitchy elf that had been staying at the Black Hound. They were strange folks, sure, but neither of them looked too sturdy; they could have used a protector on the road.

He almost asked to come along with them. Even now, Edér wasn't sure why he didn't.

Same reason why he’d waited this long to leave, probably.

A few feet away from his improvised gallows, Urgeat the magistrate was droning on and on about the "inestimable" Lord Raedric, his care for Gilded Vale, and his love for his wife.

His wife.

When his door got kicked in first thing in the morning, guards swarming in to drag him out of bed, Edér thought it was about Eothas. He figured maybe it was also about the rebels, or because someone saw him talking to that Watcher, and that was somehow also a crime now.

He didn't think they'd say that he murdered a woman.

Lord Raedric's wife. He still didn't know all the details of it - nobody bothered to tell him, since they were all thinking he did it - but what he gathered was that she turned up dead somewhere in the village, and it was close enough to his house to make them think he was involved.

Urgeat was just getting to that part in his speech, now.

Edér had never even seen her up close.

"...spreading dissent and worship of a dead god are, of course, far from the only crimes committed by this man. When words of deception no longer satisfied his foul goals, he turned to murder, and took the life or our beloved Lady Ygrid - "

"Didn't do it."

Even from this distance, Edér could see a sour grimace form on the magistrate's face as soon as he was interrupted.

"Silence, murderer," Urgeat said.

Edér shrugged; the noose shifted uncomfortably on his shoulders.

"Just setting the facts straight," he said. "Didn't do it. Ain't ever laid a finger on her. Sure, I’ve got blood on my hands, but last I checked they were all soldiers."

Not all of those soldiers were Readcerans.

Standing on that barrel gave him a great view of the crumbling shell of the temple behind the villagers' backs - and, standing just beyond it, the house that once belonged to Osgod Rask.

They did find the corpses, eventually. Some settlers moved in, took Raedric up on his offer of land; smelled something foul in the cellar, opened it, and saw what became of the two men in the years that had passed since Edér left them there.

Those settlers didn't stay.

"So you would like us to believe," Urgeat said dryly. "However, lies will not get you out of this noose. I would advise that you save your breath."

Edér couldn't hold back a snort of laughter; not that he was trying that hard.

"Right! 'Cause I have so much breathing left to do still."

Was it his imagination, or did he hear a giggle somewhere in the crowd?

Nobody liked the magistrate. Fact was, were it him in the noose instead of Edér, they'd all be clapping and cheering.

Nobody was cheering for his hanging, at least. He’d like to believe there were some people in the square doubting that he actually did it.

The problem was that it didn’t matter.

Three tolls of the bell spelled death. Before the lady’s body turned up, it meant death for a lot of people, and probably exile for just as many; by the time Raedric was done “appeasing the gods”, Gilded Vale would have been a ghost town.

But now… Now the lord’s wife was dead, and they had one person to blame for it. And, while they were at it, they could blame him for everything else, too.

Maybe there were some folks left in Gilded Vale who didn’t want to see him hang, but they would take it if it meant that he would be the last.

Something drew his eyes back to the empty Rask house.

Daeg's ma, Lifa, had this look on her face when the bodies were found. Whenever Edér was around, she'd get that same look again, like somehow she knew. 

Edér didn't regret what he did. Daeg raised a weapon against a woman and her child, which in Edér's book meant he got what was coming to him - but it didn't mean Lifa deserved to die without ever finding out what happened to her son.

Gods know he’d give a lot to find out what happened to Woden.

"Tell you what, Urgeat," Edér said. "You're gonna hang me, at least hang me for something I did."

He took a breath, preparing to confess to everything that happened with Elafa and her child and the two guards that night - and then the words never came out.

There was a figure walking through the ruins of the old temple.

"Well?" Urgeat inquired impatiently. "If you wish to add to the list of your crimes, I will not stop you, but, by the Wheel, make it quick."

The stranger was wearing a heavy black cloak with an unusually large, baggy hood. Edér couldn't see their face, but they were moving, quickly and purposefully, towards the gathering.

"I take it you have changed your mind," Urgeat said. "Very well. Let us continue - "

"Stop!"

The cloaked stranger had crossed the temple, and stopped at the foot of the tree. She was the one speaking; by the sound of it, she was a woman.

Urgeat let out a heavy, drawn-out sigh.

"Miss,” he said, "Perhaps you failed to notice that we are in the middle of an official proceeding. Whatever business you have, I am sure it can wait a minute longer."

"It cannot," she said. "By the duc's authority, I demand that you stop this execution right now."

"By the duc's - excuse me, who are you?"

In response, she simply reached up and pulled back her strange, heavy hood.

A murmur rolled through the crowd.

She was Ondra-touched. Blue skin the color of a clear sky; black eyes with no whites, two glowing dots for pupils; glowing white hair, a crescent moon-shaped growth on her forehead, and two curving horns, glowing also.

That last part explained the weird shape of her hood.

Edér had never seen this kind of godlike before, but he had heard of them.

During the war, word was that there was one of them in his division. Edér had never met the guy himself, but heard that he could fly, and that any wounds he received would heal right up. Whether the rumors about his blessings were true or not, it was impossible to say now; a few weeks in, the godlike took the brunt of a spell from a Readceran priest and died.

"Agent Selene Moonborn of Dunryd Row," said the Ondra-touched woman. "You may address me as Agent Moonborn, or Selene. Do you need to see my credentials?"

Moonborn... She sure was.

Wait - Dunryd Row?

"I would greatly appreciate that," Urgeat said, but his tone was no longer as snide as it was a moment ago. In fact, Edér was pretty sure that he heard a tinge of fear in his voice.

No wonder. If this was an actual Dunryd cipher, something serious was going on.

Selene approached the magistrate, her cloak swaying silently, and held something out to him. The drizzling rain didn't seem to bother her much.

While Urgeat was inspecting the item she handed him, she looked up over his shoulder. Her eyes met Edér's for a moment, and almost immediately moved on, taking in the rest of the hanging tree.

Was he just a part of the scenery to her, dead already?

"...Very well," Urgeat said, finally. "Welcome to Gilded Vale, Agent Moonborn. As you can see, you find us at an unfortunate hour; we have just lost our lord’s heir, and now our lady as well. Fortunately, her murderer has already been apprehended, and we are in the process of bringing him to justice."

Selene's eyes returned to the magistrate standing before her.

"That man?"

"Edér Teylecg. A troublesome individual. Eothasian." 

Urgeat spat out that last word like it was a curse.

"I see," Selene said. "Unfortunately, you can't execute him."

What?

"...What?"

That was probably the first and last time he and Urgeat had ever agreed on something.

"The murder of a thayn, or a thayn's immediate family, falls under the duc's jurisdiction," Selene explained matter-of-factly. "In the absence of a representative of the duc's authority, the local authorities may investigate and persecute the crime; however, with a Dunryd Row investigator present, that is no longer the case. In other words, you can't execute this man until I have conducted a thorough investigation and determined that he is guilty; in fact, if you do hang him right now, it will be considered a crime and I will have to arrest you."

Something mesmerizing was happening. The longer she spoke, the more Urgeat seemed to shrink away from her; at no point did she raise her voice, but there was an underlying pressure to the calm, even cadence of her speech that seemed to have a nearly violent effect on the magistrate.

Even with a noose around his neck, Edér found that entertaining to watch. Judging by what he was seeing in the crowd, he wasn't the only one. Though, the villagers weren't exactly on the agent's side, either; many of them were smirking, but just as many were eyeing her with suspicion.

Urgeat made one last feeble attempt to resist:

"Lord Raedric - "

"I would be very grateful if you could arrange an audience with the lord for me," Selene said. "Tell him that a Dunryd Row agent has arrived to investigate the murder of his wife, and would like to hear his testimony. I would like to see the body, as well."

There was a long moment of silence.

"I will relay your message to His Lordship," Urgeat said, finally.

Then, the magistrate turned around. His face was even more grey and dead-looking than it usually was.

"You heard the agent," he said to the surrounding guards. "Take him down."

If Selene's appearance earned a murmur from the crowd, the sound they were making now was more like the distant rumble of thunder.

Something was happening that had never happened before, and now every mind in Gilded Vale was feverishly working on the same question: what does this mean for me?

Every mind except for Edér's, that is. He was a little busy trying to come to terms with standing on solid ground again.

Still cold, still with his hands tied, still accused of a murder he didn't commit - but, somehow, alive.

The same guard that took the noose off his neck walked him up to where Selene and the magistrate were talking.

The crowd around them was beginning to disperse. Urgeat never gave an explicit dismissal, but the guards had stepped away from the tree and started giving the rest of the villagers move-along-now looks.

Most folks got the hint, and those who didn't got pulled along by those who did.

Selene glanced at Edér again as he approached; this time her gaze lingered. It felt as though she was assessing something about him.

Eventually she nodded to herself, seemingly having reached a conclusion, and said to the guard standing beside him:

“Untie him, please.”

The man just shuffled in place awkwardly and looked at Urgeat.

"I don’t know if this is wise," the magistrate said. "He may become violent."

Only if you keep talking, Edér thought; usually this kind of thought would come right out of his mouth, but not this time.

He wasn't in a hurry to go back to the tree just yet.

"If he does, I'll protect you," Selene said. 

Her voice and expression were dead serious, but she was definitely taking the piss at Urgeat here.

Edér decided that he liked her.

The guard unsheathed his sword and began to saw at the rope at Edér's wrists; meanwhile, Selene turned to him and began speaking.

"Edér Teylecg, by the duc's authority, I am placing you under arrest. No harm will come to you unless you attempt to resist or flee, or your guilt is proven."

The rope fell off.

"Noted," Edér said.

It was as if she didn't hear.

"Is there a jail in Gilded Vale?" Selene asked, turning to Urgeat again.

The magistrate smiled thinly:

"There are the lord's dungeons."

"Understood," she said. "House arrest it is, then. Please inform the vilagers that they are not to visit the suspect while the investigation is ongoing."

And, just like that, Edér’s fate was decided.

☀︎

The walk back to his house was silent.

Edér was leading the way, the agent following behind. He could barely hear her steps; a couple times he even got the urge to turn around and check that she was still there.

He didn't. Wouldn’t want to do anything that she could interpret as "trying to flee or resist"; Edér had a funny feeling that, despite not having any visible weapons and being a head shorter than him, Selene had her ways of making him regret that.

His mind was still all over the place, trying to work out what his current reality looked like.

He didn't die. He was walking the path back to his house, which, about half an hour ago, he was never going to do again.

There was a Dunryd Row cipher walking behind him. She somehow knew about the murder that happened just this morning; she couldn't have come all the way from Defiance Bay, could she?

Where did she come from?

Why did she stop the hanging?

It was fun watching her have a go at Urgeat, but, now that the magistrate was gone and Edér was alone with her, he did very much want to know what she was planning to do with him.

Now that he thought about it, he didn’t really know what a cipher could do.

There were plenty of folks who came to Gilded Vale saying they were one, and claimed all sorts of powers: some said they could see the future, some that they could read minds and souls. Most of them turned out to be a fraud, and at least a few of them ended up on the tree.

Nothing he could remember about them gave him a frame of reference for what a real Dunryd Row cipher was capable of.

Killing him, probably. Whatever else they taught their agents, Edér was pretty sure they had that part covered.

He was still thinking about that when his house came into view.

Suddenly, Selene's voice sounded behind his back: 

"Stop."

He stopped.

"Is that your house?" she asked.

"...Yeah."

"Do you live alone?"

"I do."

"There's someone inside."

…Well, that wasn't right.

"It's just one person," Selene said after a moment. "We can approach. Stay behind me."

Before Edér could ask how she could tell, she walked past him and headed straight for the door.

The only option left was to follow her.

Up close, Edér could hear it too: something was happening inside. There was a heavy scraping noise, like something was being dragged across the floor.

The door gave no resistance when Selene pushed it open; the bolt got broken earlier that morning.

She stepped inside.

The room was a mess. There were drawers open; his clothes were in a heap on the floor; the tools that were supposed to hang on the walls were laid out on the big dining table.

The scraping noise was coming from the far end of the house, where a man was trying to drag a chest out of the corner.

The chest was heavy. Edér knew that, because that was where kept his Saint's War armor; his sword and shield, too.

There wasn't much left in the house worth keeping under lock and key, but his armor and weapons were two of the things he did think could be stolen.

Turns out, he was right to worry.

"Excuse us," Selene said.

The man stopped struggling with the chest and froze.

"...Who's that?"

The shadows made it hard to recognize him, but, as soon as Edér heard the voice, he knew.

"Algar, you sheepfucker! Couldn't wait 'til I was dead?"

At the sound of his voice, the man jumped and straightened up at once, turning around to look at them, white as a sheet.

Sure enough, they were looking at Algar Bramweg: reedy, thin-haired and watery-eyed. Came back from the war with burns on his face and left arm, but he came back. 

He was a meek guy, but Edér used to think he was alright. Until that moment, that is.

"Edér!" Algar nearly squeaked. "Wh-what are you doing here? Aren't you - "

"Hanging on a tree?" Edér asked grimly. "Matter of fact, I was. They let me down so I could see who was in here, stealing my stuff."

"Well, I - I thought you wouldn't be needing it anymore!" Algar glanced around with the look of a cornered animal in his eyes. "...I'll put it back. I'll put it all back. I - what happened? Who is this?"

With that last question, he gestured wildly at Selene, who was just standing there the entire exchange.

"Agent Selene Moonborn, Dunryd Row," she said. "I take it you weren't in the square when I arrived. All you need to know for now is that the hanging has been postponed, and this building is now off limits. Please return everything you may have taken from here; it could be evidence."

Algar looked completely lost, now.

"...Evidence?"

"In the investigation of Lady Ygrid's murder," Selene clarified. "Like I said, this is all you need to know right now. If you're confused, ask one of your friends who were present for the hanging; I don't have time to repeat the details."

Algar looked over at him.

Edér shrugged:

"I'd do as she says, if I were you."

When Algar was done emptying his pockets, it turned out that he had picked up a couple of smaller tools, Edér’s entire whiteleaf stash, a handful of copper pands - and the book of prayers that survived year after year of purges in spite of Raedric’s efforts, safely hidden on top of one of the ceiling beams.

That last one puzzled him.

Algar didn’t just take the book - he was looking for it. There was no way for him to stumble upon it on accident.

“Alright,” Edér said, “The coins and the whiteleaf, I get. Tools, too. What did you need that for?”

Algar didn’t quite meet his eyes when he answered:

“Well, so many of those got burned or thrown away, I figured - the right folks would pay a fortune for one that’s still intact.”

So he was going to sell it. Made sense; more sense than Algar secretly being a devout Eothasian, anyhow.

Once Algar had left, Selene shut the door behind him. She regarded the broken bolt for a moment, then said:

"This will have to be fixed."

It wasn't clear whether she was talking to herself or to him.

Then, she turned around and addressed him directly:

“Please, take a seat.”

It was damn weird to be invited to sit down in his own house. Felt like an insult more than anything else; Edér had half a mind to say something about it, but thought better of it.

He pulled a chair out from the dining table and sat down.

As soon as he did, he regretted it. His body realized that he was no longer on his feet, and took it as an invitation to crash; immediately, his limbs felt heavy, and his head began to spin.

The entire morning was now catching up to him. Waking up to guards in his house; being dragged to the square; standing in the rain, counting the seconds left until his last breath.

How long had he been awake for? An hour? Felt like two entire days, at this point.

Black bones of Eothas, he’d almost - 

No, wasn’t the time for that. He’d think about that later, or maybe never.

He kind of liked that second option better.

His hands were shaking just a little; probably because he was still really cold.

Edér looked up at the agent.

“Mind if I start the fire?”

“...Oh.” It was as if she’d just realized the same thing he did. “Not at all. If you want to change your clothes, I’ll wait by the door.”

Well, that was nice of her.

He took her up on that offer.

Once he’d gotten a fire going in the firepit and changed into the clothes Algar so kindly left out for him, it was much easier to believe that he was, in fact, still alive.

Algar was going to take his whiteleaf, but he’d left the pipe right where it was. Figures; he had his own.

“You smoke, agent?” Edér asked, just as she stepped back into the room.

“I don’t, but you can go ahead.”

And so they sat down at the table, the fire in the middle of the room casting their shadows onto the far wall, the smoke from his pipe rising like a sheer curtain between them.

He was at home, now, and a little more certain that he could handle whatever Selene was about to throw at him.

“Suppose I should thank you,” Edér said. “If it weren't for you showing up when you did, would have been one more corpse on that tree - and Algar would’ve been smoking my whiteleaf just about now.”

For the first time since she walked out into the square, he saw Selene’s expression become something other than a distant, observing look.

Her eyes narrowed just a little, her pupils twinkling like twin stars in the night sky; she didn’t really smile, but her face softened in a way that made him think that maybe it was her way of smiling.

“It was a close call,” she said. “I’m glad I could stop them from hanging an innocent.”

Whatever Edér expected her to say, that was not it.

He didn't think he'd feel that much relief at hearing her say it, either. Of course he didn't murder the lady; he knew that.

But how did Selene know?

"...You figure that out with your cipher powers?"

The only other option he could think of was that she killed the lady, and Edér really hoped it wasn’t that.

“Good guess,” Selene said.

Her eyes drifted away from him for a moment, like she was considering something, or hesitating.

Finally, she said:

"I'll get straight to the point: I wasn't sent here to investigate the murder of Lady Ygrid. As far as I know, no one outside of Gilded Vale even knows that she’s dead.”

It took him a moment to process what she was saying.

“...Wait, so… what’s all this for?”

Selene sighed. Something was gone from her voice and her posture now - that invisible pressure she used against Urgeat. It was as if an act had been dropped.

“I came to Gilded Vale on Dunryd Row business that had nothing to do with Lady Ygrid. I happened to arrive just as an execution was happening. I read the mind of the man about to be hanged and knew that he didn’t commit the crime he was being accused of, so… I intervened in the only way I could think of.”

…By lying to Urgeat.

Wait.

She read his mind?

So that was true about ciphers, then.

Oh gods. How much did she see? Did she know about - no, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t have helped him, had she known.

Was she listening right now?

“I’m not reading your mind right now,” Selene said.

Edér couldn’t help but laugh nervously:

“You’re not really helping your own case here. How’d you know I just thought that?”

She shrugged:

“It’s the first thought people have when they realize I can do this.”

Oh.

“...Well, alright, that’s fair.”

“Sometimes, I can’t help but overhear the thoughts of others,” Selene said. “Usually, those thoughts are surface-level and charged with intense emotion. Feelings of pain or anger, for example. In your case, you were thinking pretty loudly that you didn’t do it.”

Well, now he had to ask.

“Was I… thinking about anything else?”

Selene met his eyes, unblinking.

“You were cold. And you wanted the magistrate to shut up.”

“...That sounds about right.”

She didn’t hear about the bodies in the cellar. He must have had some unbelievable luck.

Better not waste it.

“From now on, I’ll always let you know when I’m listening to your thoughts,” Selene said. “I’m saying this because I would like us to be allies.”

She leaned forward, cutting through the protective curtain of whiteleaf smoke and bringing her face just a little closer to his. The glowing markings on her cheeks, a dot and an upturned crescent moon under each eye, stood out starkly against her skin.

“I want you to help me find the real murderer of Lady Ygrid.”

That answered the question of what she wanted from him, at least.

"Why do you think I can help?" Edér asked. "If you really did read my mind, you saw that I don’t know anything."

"About the murder, maybe, but you know Gilded Vale," Selene said. "I could use the help of a local. And, for better or worse, you're the only one in town I trust right now - seeing as you're the only one who wasn't almost an accomplice in another murder today."

"...Wait, what?"

She gave him an amused look.

"I'm talking about your murder, Edér. What do you think that hanging was?"

Well, that was a charged question, wasn't it.

He glanced over at the Eothasian book of prayers, still resting on the far end of the table. Was there even a point in trying to hide it again?

"Some folks 'round here would call it justice," he said, finally. 

Selene followed his gaze to the book, gave a little nod and withdrew, putting some more distance between them again.

"I wish I could say it's not the same in Defiance Bay, but I'd be lying," she said. "Where you have Raedric, we have the Dozens. They don't have nearly as much power, and that's the best thing I can say about them."

"Seems you don't like them much."

"I don't. Like your magistrate, they like to point fingers, and make my work - finding the truth - harder."

She paused for a moment, then asked:

"You fought in the war, didn't you?"

"I did," Edér said. "On the right side, mind you. Got any doubts, you can read my mind about it."

Selene shook her head.

"I believe you. I just wanted to say - that’s another reason you’re a good ally to have. You did the right thing, even if it meant standing up to your god; that takes more than bravery."

Edér nearly choked on the puff he'd just taken from his pipe.

Gods damn. Would he ever figure out what she was about? Every time it felt like he was starting to get a beat on the conversation, she'd hit him with something else.

"Now here’s something you don't hear a lot these days," he said.

Now Selene smiled, but there wasn't an ounce of joy to it.

"I dedicated my life to digging up things others desperately want forgotten," she said. "Maybe I haven't gone to war against Ondra, but I can't imagine she's too happy with me, either. You had to go even further. I think that calls for respect, not persecution."

Edér stared at her for a moment.

"I've got to ask," he said, finally. "Are all of you Dunryd folks like this, or is it just you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You're getting real involved in something you've got no stakes in. Sharing all kinds of opinions. Round here, that's how you end up on the tree; trust me, I know."

Something in her expression shifted; it became cold and pointed, and, for a moment, Edér was sure that he had fucked up.

"I don't like seeing people be disposed of," Selene said. 

And then her expression smoothed out again.

"...Besides, solving crimes is what I do. I wasn't ordered to investigate this one, but I don't think my superiors would mind, as long as I completed my original mission as well."

Edér decided that it was probably safe to start breathing again.

"You're goddamn weird, agent," he said. "I don't know what exactly I can do, but - I think I wanna help you."

Again, that smiling-without-smiling look.

"I'm glad," Selene said.

"Well... What's our move, then?"

She regarded him for a moment.

"Take a minute to recover. Clean up, eat something," she said. "Then, we'll go see the crime scene."

Notes (spoilers for The Reaping):

In The Reaping, Edér and his ex Elafa end up killing two of Raedric's soldiers, who were threatening Elafa and her Hollowborn child. Edér hides their bodies in an abandoned house; Elafa leaves the town with her child the same night.

[stalkurs]

Since Y/N had joined the gang, everyone noticed strange things happening with Javier. He would be caught staring several time, at Y/N. Or when Author went through his journal he found several things mentioning the young woman. Author confronted the man of his writings, sending Javier in a panic. Javier begged and bribed him to stay quiet about what he found, and Author agreed.

   Javier lost $300 that day, but gained the silence. Y/N had began to notice Javier's actions as well, along with waking up to a Daisy next to their cot every morning. The sudden appearance of the flower every day began to make her wonder of who was leaving the flowers. So, they made a plan to figure out. They had their suspicions but just wanted to be sure.

Y/N lays quietly in their cot, tonight was cold and creepily silent. The entire gang had fell asleep a while ago but the young lady stayed awake. Their eyes closed as all they did was listen. Tuning out the screaming bugs and coyotes. It seemed like an eternity had passed before a different kind of noise was made.

The sound of boots on grass. Her hearing perked as she began to relax, pretending to sleep. The flap of her tent was pulled open, and a few more smaller and quieter steps were made. It was silent for a few seconds before a warm feeling was placed on her forehead, and the tent flap opened again. Before whoever the person was could close the tent Y/N opened her eyes, it was Micah.

——Morning——

Y/N sat at the edge of the creek. Thinking back on last nights events, gagging. She couldn't believe Micah was the one leaving the flowers. Disgusting. As she sat there, staring at the water and the fish jumping past the surface, Javier came up and sat next to her.

He too just sat there, staring out the same direction as Y/N.

"What's in your mind, my friend?" He turned to look at her.

Y/N let out another shudder before speaking. Telling Javier of what Micah has been doing. A look of pure anger and jealously covered Javiers face as he scooted closer to Y/N. Rubbing smaller circles on their back with his thumb. Attempting to comfort the woman.

   Y/N had never liked Micah, saying he's a dirty lair and buddies with people to help himself. Especially with how he treated Sadie wen he found her.

   That night when Y/N laid down to sleep Javier sat on a stool in the corner of her tent as well. His arms crossed as he stared at the resting woman across from him. His dark eyes studying her features that he adored so much. As it continued to get later, darker, and quieter Javier would nod off. He sat still, hunched over, his arms crossed.

   Before he's out for the night he hears heavy footsteps and his head jerked. He waited silently as the one and only Micah appeared in the tent. A white daisy in his dirty hands.

"Mr.Bell, what are you doing here so late?" Javier has a cocky tone as Micah was startled.

   Micah jerked his head, looking at Javier. An expression of pure irritation appearing in his tanned face.

"Seems I should be asking you the same." He scowled.

   Javier stands, moving to stand straight in front of Micah. Blocking him from going any further into the tent. Before he could say anything a groan and shuffling was heard as Y/N moved to lay on her side, facing them. Her eyes barely open as she waved Micah away. Grumbling something about him.

   Not wanting to upset the woman anymore towards him Micah left, swearing under his breath. Javier was about to leave as well before he left a tug in his wrist. Y/N set up and swung their legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed their eyes. Making Javiers heart melt and made him swoon mentally at the woman.

"Don't leave. He'll just come right on back once your gone."

   Javier nodded at the request and sat back into the stool. The old price of wood screaming under the extra weight. It wasn't long before how it was in the beginning. Y/N laying asleep in her cot and Javier on the stool, asleep. Before long, the sun had risen.

   Chickens squawked, and the gangs dog was barking. Javier opened his eyes to see Y/N gone. As he stood something fell from his shoulders. Turning around to investigate he saw Y/N jacket, it must had been sprawled across his back and shoulders. A note sat on the end table, a top sat a daisy.

"Dearest Y/N,

Damned Javier got in the way of your daily gift. I'm sorry to had been a bother and let Javier ruin your beauty rest. Not that you need it, your already to most beautiful girl I've ever seen-"

   Javier already knew it was a note from Micah to Y/N. Javier grabbed the daisy and threw it on the ground, stomping it. Next, he yanked the note from the desk and ripped it up. The note had contained a lot creepier words that he didn't want Y/N to read if she hadn't already. Javier quietly left the tent, brows furrowed. He was not happy with Micah, and he was about to make sure he knew that.

[seriowan]

for the dancing and the dreaming (hunter x f!reader)

“Surviving is the bare minimum of what it means to live. Thanks to you, Omega knows how to survive — maybe you should show her what it means to live a little bit as well.”

summary: on the night of pabu's annual 'giving festival', omega opens herself up to new experiences while hunter's night takes an unexpected turn, leaving him with a memorable moment that might change the course of his life forever...

pairing: hunter x f!reader (nicknamed coral)

tags: spoilers for tbb s2ep13; love at first sight; meet-cute; first-meeting kiss; reader is described as wearing a yellow sundress; nothing but fluff! - brief mentions of tech/phee

word count: 5k

a/n: the second i watched episode 13 i got this idea to write hunter in a whirlwind romance with a pabu girl and three drafts later, this is the final product! i wrote it with MAJOR inspiration from tangled's 'kingdom dance' scene and that one scene from how to train your dragon, so prepare thyself!

radio: kingdom dance, alan menkin — for the dancing and the dreaming, httyd soundtrack

♡ masterlist ♡

Pabu was a true gem of nature, tucked away amid the endless oceans of its home planet.

  As the warm sun kissed the little island, turquoise waters lapped gently against the grainy shores and ancient stone ports. Vibrant green brush and trees swayed in the breeze, their fronds whispering to one another. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of exotic flowers, peppering the island in patches of oranges, reds, and pinks. Birdsong echoed alongside the crashing waves, moon-yo hoots and howls bouncing from one side of the island to the other. From the cobblestone streets and markets came the sound of life; cacophonies of chatter and murmurs, a blend of voices as the islanders bartered and laughed and greeted one another with merry smiles. 

   It was as if time stood still on Pabu, and every moment spent there was a moment of peace. 

   Hunter looked over the city from the balcony of Shep’s home, his stomach full and his heart more so. 

   He tuned in to Tech and Phee’s conversation, smiling into his cup of freshly squeezed juice when he mostly heard Tech’s voice going on about artifacts. A quick side eye and there Phee was, listening with her elbow on the table and her cheek in her palm, eyes locked onto his rambling brother as if he was the only person around. 

   Wrecker lay on a lounge chair, his hands behind his head and a dazed smile on his lips. With his belly finally full, the food coma hit him harder than ever, sending him into a blissful sleep that no one thought to disturb. Especially not when the sun was just right. Not when the winds carried the salty smell of the ocean and the sound of Omega’s laughter as she and Lyana chased the moon-yos around the balcony.

   He looked over the city once more, watching as everyone lived their little slices of life. Couples walked hand-in-hand. Kids played ball and danced together, holding fizzing sparklers above their heads. An older man fed a cluster of moon-yos from a paper bag of scraps, waving at a woman as she walked past him with a basket of flowers hooked on her arm. 

   Hunter found it hard to believe that this island wasn’t a dream. Everything felt so serene and calm that it just… didn’t feel familiar. Not for them, at least. Not after years of missions and months of running and scavenging. After living day-to-day for most of his life, being able to sit and breathe felt odd. It was even more strange that he actually had to sit and wonder if he could call this island home. 

   As far as he could remember, home was never really a place but a people. His people — the one rambling on to an interested girl; the other sleeping peacefully on the lounge chair; the little girl who held Lyana’s hand as she scurried out through the gate. 

   Hunter glanced down at his cup and gave it a gentle swirl. 

   When did he last feel so content?

  With the little voice in the back of his head reminding him that two of his brothers were out fighting for their lives (albeit for different reasons), he knew that he’d never have a total moment of peace… but, as small as this was, it was enough. Enough for him to close his eyes and take a deep breath. Enough for him to sit and actually feel the sun on his face. Enough for him to listen to the ocean, its gentle waves reminding him of a quiet Kamino. 

   Footsteps approached him from behind. He smelled the faintest scent of fruit as Phee leaned against the parapet, elbows up on the wall with a cup in her hand. She left Tech by the table, sparing a glance his way before turning towards Hunter. 

   “You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” she teased. 

   The opposite, actually, was what he wanted to say. Instead, he settled on, “It’s nice here.”

   “Nice enough to stay?” She wasn’t pushing him but she wasn’t exactly being subtle about it either. Hunter knew that Phee always had two reasons for everything she did and when she glanced back at Tech, eyes softening, Hunter knew exactly why she posed this question. 

   He smothered the urge to smile and looked off towards the ocean, shoulders sagging as he struggled to come up with an answer. 

   “Think about it,” Phee murmured, nudging his arm with her elbow. “Take all the time you need. Pabu’s not goin’ anywhere.” 

   He hummed, the corner of his mouth lifting as he glanced from Phee to Tech. “Sure.” 

   An unspoken conversation took place as Phee narrowed her eyes, unable to hide the smallest trace of her smile. Hunter just arched a brow and she gave in with a sigh, shaking her head.

“You’ve got me there, Bandana. I think staying here would do you all some good — especially Omega. But, I’m not one for peer pressure. Maybe a walk through the city might help you come to a decision.” She looked over the city, her face lighting up when she noticed the streamers and decorations hanging from rooftop to rooftop. “Looks like tonight’s the Giving Festival.” 

   “Giving Festival?” 

   Phee nodded. “Everyone comes out for the Giving Festival and shares things like food, clothes, and jewelry — and everything’s free with no expectation to receive anything in return. They thank the ocean and the island for giving them a safe haven. It's why the kids get dressed in blue clothes and parade around with their sparklers. In fact, Omega and Lyana should be down there right now.” 

   He thought of it for a brief moment before nodding. Phee took that as her sign to leave but not without giving Hunter’s arm a squeeze. When she turned, Tech greeted her with the smallest smile — an action that Hunter seemed to notice happening more frequently than usual. 

   Leaving his cup on the parapet, Hunter removed his knife from the sheath on his waist and placed it atop the table.  After a final glance back at his brothers, Hunter walked through the gate and left the balcony, entering the colorful streets of Pabu. 

   It took him a bit to get used to the sheer kindness that never seemed to run out from the island’s residents. Wherever he went, it seemed that everyone knew he was a newcomer, so he was often given cheerful waves and happy smiles. Some even stopped him, briefly chatting to introduce themselves before going back to their festivities. It was all odd, truly, but it was somewhat nice to be treated like a neighbor instead of a criminal on the run. 

   A father, as Shep had previously called him. Those words still echoed in his head and he had no intention of ever forgetting them. 

   Hunter’s walk through the city had its effect, as Phee suggested. The more he wandered, the more he wondered if he could live like the islanders: at peace and happy. Domesticity was never really an option until now, but as he watched the children play in front of their homes, parents watching from balconies and doorways, he imagined himself in their shoes. It was easy to picture Omega running through these stone streets, laughing as freely as she did when she first latched onto his heart. 

   It didn’t take long before he came across that exact sight. 

   Standing in the center of a busy market street, Omega and Lyana wore blue robes over their clothes and carried glowing sparklers in their hands. They both had blue powder staining their cheeks and nose, causing Hunter to smile when the girls shared a giggle at how they looked. It wasn’t until Omega turned towards a store and waved that he realized the two girls weren’t alone. 

   Emerging from the doorway of a dome home was the woman he saw from Shep’s balcony. While she didn’t have a basket of flowers hanging from her elbow anymore, she carried two necklaces of sea glass in her hands and gave them to Omega and Lyana. From where he stood, Hunter could hear the gratefulness in Omega’s voice as the woman tied the thin string around her neck. Her nimble finger worked quite quickly before she took a step back, gently brushing a strand of hair out of Omega’s eyes. 

   The action was so soft that it made Hunter watch her with a peculiar gaze. She was beautiful, but she had a certain quality about her that outshone her beauty — a genuine energy that she revealed as she spoke to Omega with ease.

   When she turned her head, Hunter noticed the flower poised behind her ear — a bright orange flower that brought out the color of her cheeks and the vibrance in her eyes. The woman crouched, her yellow sundress settling around her like a river of color. She grasped Omega’s hands and squeezed, grinning up at her before winking. Omega giddily nodded her head up and down and squeezed the woman’s hand as she turned, pulling her along as they both followed Lyana down the road. 

   The woman’s dress billowed after her as she ran. She had a captivating smile, cheeks flushed and eyes blazing. The wind blew through her hair as if it was created just for her, carrying her laughter to his ears.  

   The moment they took the corner, Hunter followed, interested to see where this night would take him. 

-

You liked Lyana’s new friend. Omega was a firecracker of energy and curiosity, roaming to and fro with the intention to seek, find, and explore. When Lyana brought her to your doorstep and made introductions, you just knew that the little blonde was bound to become a new regular in your jewelry shop. She loved exploring the various things you created, including the sea glass necklaces. 

   When it came time to meet the girls outside, you made sure to grab the necklaces she’d been eyeballing. Omega’s expression of shock was worth it when you presented it to her, and her soft voice of thanks was enough to make your heart melt. 

   True to the promise you made to both girls, you took Lyana and Omega to the market square full of music and dance. Omega’s eyes were full of amazement as she looked over the festivities. Vibrant colors glowed from the lanterns hanging overhead. Streamers swayed in the wind like spinning ribbons of silk. Dancers formed circles that spun quickly, cheering and coaxing others to join. Lively, upbeat music played from the performers standing around a tall statue. They played with passion, dancing alongside a few children that joined their sides. 

   You held both Omega and Lyana’s hands as you guided them to the dancing circle in the center of the square. While Lyana was excited to join, Omega’s reluctance grew until she pulled her hand away, shaking her head as she took a step back. 

   “I can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve never danced before.” 

   You smiled softly. “Would you feel better if I went first? Then you can see how it goes and if you want to join, you can jump in next to me and Lyana.” 

   Omega nodded and you grinned, turning to face the circle. Adjusting the flower in your hair, you picked up your dress and barged into the dancing circle, joining those who moved in unison. It took a moment before you caught up, but falling into step was easy. You spun and twirled and danced like there was no tomorrow, eyes shut as you switched partners and crossed the open circle alongside others. As the circle broke apart, paving way for duos and trios to have their own moment of dance, you noticed Omega and Lyana holding hands while they jumped back and forth and all around, laughing and giggling like girls in their prime. 

   The music picked up its pace and the circle reformed. Dresses were kicked up and hands were clapped loudly, laughter and whistles echoing from the bystanders that watched. Entranced by the pure jubilance of the music, and the energetic feeling of the dance, it was as if the world melted away, leaving nothing but you and the music. 

   You closed your eyes to enjoy the moment when suddenly, your balance slipped away as you bumped into the person beside you. Just before you could hit the ground, a pair of hands grabbed you by the elbows, hauling you up to a firm chest. Planting your hands on the figure’s vest, you struggled to catch your breath as you laughed, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

   “My goodness,” you gasped, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry-” 

   The moment you looked up, all of the words just left your lips. A knot twisted in your gut when you met a pair of rich brown eyes, that crinkled with amusement as they gaze down at you. 

   “Careful,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. 

   You wet your lips, uncertain if you could even speak, when Omega’s voice suddenly echoed from behind you. 

   “Hunter! 

  She and Lyana ran up to you and the man, halting in their tracks the moment they saw the odd position you were in - your hands on Hunter’s chest with his on your arms.  They looked at one another with wide eyes and started giggling, causing you to take a step back and shyly fiddle with the flower behind your ear, cheeks as red as the lights above you. 

   Hunter put his hands on his hips, a little furrow in his brow, but he didn’t seem threatening. It was the observant gaze of a father.

You couldn't help but stir at the sight. Not only was he protective but he was quite gorgeous. He had the structure of the marble statues you’d seen in the Archium. Soft features, like the roundness of his jaw and the curve of his nose, but there was strength as well. Strength in his rich brown eyes as they moved from you to Omega. 

   And that strength, however threatening it may have been to others, softened when he placed his hand on Omega’s head, teasing her with a little tug on the ends of her hair. 

   “Having fun?”

   It was easy to admit that you were entranced by everything about him - from the way he carried himself to the way he spoke. He was both gentle and sturdy, something that drew you in and made it impossible to look away. 

   “Yeah!” Omega giggled, breathless from the amount of running she did earlier. “Lyana took me around the market and look-!”

Shoving her hands in her pockets, she pulled out various little trinkets: a knife made of whalebone, bracelets fashioned from polished stone, a ring of silver with a little opal on top, chewing gum from sweet sap, and a few others that she’d been gifted by the market goers. 

   With the tip of his finger, Hunter nudged around the items in her palm before offering her a small smile. He gave the blue powder on her cheek a gentle swipe with his thumb before settling his hand on her shoulder, eyes shifting to you.

You stuck your hand out, smiling bashfully.

  “Everyone calls me Coral around here,” you said, managing a small chuckle. “And I promise that I’m not as clumsy as I seemed earlier.” 

   “I know,” he remarked, shaking your hand. When he noticed your odd look, he backtracked, eyes widening just slightly. “I mean I saw you, uh, dancing. You’re good — at dancing, I mean.”

   Ignoring Omega and Lyana’s giggles, you bowed your head in thanks, your voice soft as you hummed, “Thank you, Hunter.” 

   He gave a small smile. “My pleasure, Coral.” 

   “It’s a giving festival, Hunter,” Omega sang, nudging his side. “It’s custom here to give something to someone that you meet for the first time. Look, Coral gave me a necklace from her shop! Lyana has the same one so we’re matching.” 

   Hunter frowned, glancing down at his empty pockets. He flashed you an apologetic look and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Sorry, I don’t have anything on me at the moment.” 

   You shook your head, removing the flower from behind your ear. Taking a step forward, you closed the gap between you and Hunter, tilting your head to look up at him as you tucked the flower in the breast pocket of his vest. 

   “It’s not a matter of obligation,” you murmured softly, adjusting the petals so that they were all on display. “It’s just a matter of acceptance. You’re new here, so we give you-” You glanced down at Omega and winked. “-and you, these gifts to welcome you to Pabu. You accept these gifts; we accept you.” 

   Lyana smirked, adding, “Kisses are accepted too!” 

   “Alright that’s enough from you two,” you interrupted, shooing them away when the two girls started giggling. “Go back to dancing — and make sure you get some of those dragon candies before Sebby runs out!” 

   Lyana gasped and snatched Omega’s hand. As she began to pull her away, Omega gave you and Hunter a happy wave, turning with a laugh that made Hunter’s eyes soften. 

   “She hasn’t been this happy in a long time,” he noted in a quiet voice, unable to look away from the girl even when you glanced at him. “Things have been… they’ve been tough on her.” 

   “I know,” you murmured, causing him to arch his brows in surprise. “Omega kind of told me everything about your current situation. She told me so much about you and your brothers, I practically feel like I know you already.” 

   “Of course,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry, she has a habit of doing that.” 

   “Don’t worry,” you assured, nudging his side. When his lip twitched up, you smiled. “I can keep a secret. Besides, I’d like to see her around more often. Lyana has a hard time making friends and Omega’s brought out a side of her that I haven’t seen before — she just looks so youthful when she isn’t shouldering some of Shep’s burdens. Being a single father is tough on the two of them and I think having some support is doing them both some good.” 

   What you said must have resonated deeply with Hunter for he fell into silence, a distant look in his eyes as he watched Omega receive a cup of steaming candies from a stand. She looked his way and lifted the cup above her head, a toothy grin forming when Hunter nodded at her in approval. 

   “Thank you for making her feel accepted here.” 

   “Of course… but what about you?” 

   He glanced down at you and arched a brow. 

   “Do you feel accepted here?” You clarified, gesturing towards everyone in the market square. “I know how hard it can be to settle down. I had a similar experience before I found myself on Pabu. It took me a while to adjust but once I did, this place became my safe haven like it did for so many others.”  

   Hunter took a moment to look over the festivities. He watched the people smile and dance and greet one another. He watched them live their lives, sighing. 

   “As long as Omega can find a home here, that’s all that matters.”

   “It isn’t a crime to put your own needs forward, Hunter. Think of what’s good for you as well.” 

   “We still have unresolved matters,” he explained with a trace of frustration; not at you, but rather at the ‘unresolved matters’ that he mentioned. “There are things that need our attention-” 

   You removed your hand from around his arm to place your palm against his chest. He stopped talking, his eyes honing in on yours as you peered up at him with a seriousness he hadn’t seen before. 

   “Can you resolve any of those things from here?” You questioned, arching a brow.

   He hesitated, then shook his head. 

   “Then it’s best for you-” You glanced back at Omega, “-and her, to put those aside for now and just accept this time of peace. She needs your attention too, not just your protection.” Giving him a little smile, you fiddled with the flower in his pocket, murmuring, “Care to take a bit of advice from a stranger?” 

   Hunter’s eyes crinkled as he nodded, amusement in his voice when he hummed, “Go ahead.”

   You absentmindedly adjusted the petals as you spoke. “Surviving is the bare minimum of what it means to live. Thanks to you, Omega knows how to survive — maybe you should show her what it means to live a little bit as well.” 

   “How do you suppose I do that,” he asked with a sincereness that made your heart shatter. “Us clones don’t do much living — all we’ve ever done is survive.” 

   “Learn from others,” you suggested. “Learn from their experiences and their own lives… and if you feel comfortable with accepting help, let us show you so that you can show Omega.” 

   Hunter’s nod was so sudden that it made you furrow your brow in confusion. 

   “Alright,” he said without an ounce of hesitation. 

   “Alright?” You echoed, shocked by how quick he agreed.

   To your surprise, Hunter took your hand in his own, engulfing your fingers, and began to pull you towards the girls across the square. His expression was muted but there was a little smile on his lips as he said lightly, “We need to learn how to live, right? Then show me how.” 

   You laughed as you nodded, squeezing his hand back in return. “Alright, but you can’t get mad at me when the time comes for you to step out of your comfort zone. Living doesn’t mean it’s always comfortable.” 

   “I can handle a bit of discomfort." 

   “We’ll see about that." 

   You called out for Omega and Lyana as you approached them, earning wide-eyed looks of excitement the moment they noticed you and Hunter holding hands. To their dismay, you let go just to give Omega a gentle nudge toward Hunter. 

   “Hunter said he’d like to dance with you,” you lied, causing Omega’s eyes to widen as they flicked up to him. 

   “Really?” 

   His reluctant gaze shifted from Omega to you, narrowing just slightly before he looked back down and offered his little girl a small smile, nodding. When he held out his hand, Omega grasped it with excitement and pulled him to the dancing square, rambling on and on about the things she experienced while he was busy talking to you. As he was pulled into the sea of dancing duos and trios, he looked back at you with a mixed expression, causing you to giggle and wave. 

   “You like him,” Lyana sang by your side, tugging on your dress. “I think it’s cute. You can’t stop looking at him with googly eyes.” 

   “Don’t act like this wasn’t part of your plan, squid,” you huffed, earning a giggle. “You and Omega don’t exactly look as innocent as you think you do.” 

   “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she sang, taking your hand and squeezing it with a hopeful gaze. “Do you want to dance with me?”

  “How could I ever say no to you? Lead the way, squid.” 

   And lead the way, she did. Lyana pulled you into the circle right alongside Omega and Hunter, swinging you into a spin the moment she had a grip on both of your hands. You spun and spun with her, laughing alongside her giggles, cheering when everyone clapped in unison. Out of the corner of your eye,  you caught a few glimpses of Hunter and Omega. It wasn’t so much of a duo dance as it was Omega dancing while Hunter held her hands, occasionally spinning and hauling her up in the air just to hear her laugh. 

   All that mattered was that Hunter seemed to be enjoying himself. He didn’t have the same stress that you noticed in him earlier; no more tense muscles or furrowed expression. Peace sat in his eyes as he danced with the little blonde, living off of Omega’s happiness. 

   Lyana spun and spun you until suddenly, without warning, she let go of your hands, sending you stumbling into the person beside you. You went to apologize but stopped when Hunter’s familiar face looked down at you, his hands sprawled across the plain of your back to keep you upright as he held you in a dip. 

   Omega and Lyana both giggled as they began dancing together, acting as innocent as the little devils could. 

   “What did you say about not being clumsy?” He teased, causing you to flush with embarrassment. 

   “Second time's a charm?” 

   Hunter lifted you, taking your hand to guide you into a spin. He pulled you into him, bringing your back against his chest. 

   “Thank you,” he murmured against your ear, “Tonight’s been fun.” 

   “See?” You hummed, guiding him in a gentle sway from side to side. Almost instantly, the music softened and the upbeat tune became a gentle, harmonious song that eased a bit of peace through the energetic festival. “Can you feel that peace? That is the difference between living and surviving, and there’s so much more for you to experience, too.” 

   “Will you show me?” He asked, causing you to turn your head and give him a credulous smile.

   “Does this mean you’ve decided to stay on Pabu?” 

   “I think that’d be best for all of us.”

   “Then yes,” you agreed. “I’ll help as best as I can… but can I ask why me?”

   “Omega likes you,” he said with an audible smile on his lips, “And I… I trust you... so far.”

   “I’m honored,” you murmured, breaking into a giggle when he spun you around to face him. Your hands slid up and over his shoulders, interlocking behind his head. It was an involuntary gesture to look down at his lips but you couldn’t help it. 

   Hunter had this protective, genuine feeling that made you feel so safe near him. It was an odd thing to notice about someone when first meeting them, but it was only solidified when watching him and Omega. He had a specific gentleness that he kept reserved for her and now, as it seemed, for you as well. 

   What you didn’t expect, however, was for him to feel the same way as you. 

   “Was Lyana telling the truth earlier?” 

   “About what,” you murmured, forcing your gaze to go from his lips to his eyes. 

   “About a kiss being a gift.” 

   Your mind went blank. It took a moment before you nodded, finding the confidence to move your lips and speak. “She was.” 

   He guided you into another spin, gentler than before as he pulled you into his chest. “What does it mean?” 

   “It’s an invitation,” you explained softly. “A gift of vulnerability, as well as a promise. They aren’t given unless they are genuine — it means you find enough value in another person to give them your affection rather than an item. Kissing someone at the Giving Festival is typically a sign of courtship.” 

   “Courtship?” He questioned curiously. “You carry that tradition around here? Didn't take you for an old-school type of girl.” 

   “Well,” you sang, causing him to chuckle. “The elders call it that. I mean, it’s just dating among the younger generations.” 

   He hummed, slow movements swaying you to and fro. As he danced with you around the statue, passing the band that played their gentle tune, he noticed the beautiful flowers on the floor and stopped to pick one up. With gentle fingers, he tucked it behind your ear and gave you a small smile when he noticed how red your cheeks had become. Just like the flower in your hair.

   “Can I kiss you?” He asked gently, tucking away a strand of hair that fell in front of your face. 

   You tilted your head up to him, smiling to hide the fact that your heart was practically beating out of his chest.  

   “Yes,” you breathed, your stomach twisting with anticipation.

   His hand cupped the back of your head, the other gently resting against your back. Hunter pulled you close enough for your chests to touch before he lowered his head, lips skimming over your own. 

   “Are you certain about this?” You whispered against his lips. “You hardly know me.”  

   “I know enough to be certain I want to kiss you,” he hummed. “Are you?” 

   You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. 

   “Just kiss me, handsome,” you said with a smile. “We’ll figure out the rest later.” 

   He smiled as he kissed you, lips curled in amusement even after your lips collided. You couldn’t help but giggle against his mouth when his hand wove through your hair. It was an even bigger surprise when he dipped you, earning a few cheers and hoots of encouragement from those who stood by — including Omega and Lyana who seemed to be the loudest (and happiest) of the spectators. 

   When he pulled away, he never truly left. He kept his hand interwoven with yours, keeping you by his side as the dancing resumed and the festivities regained their upbeat tempo. Hunter pulled you out of the crowd and even though you didn’t return to the dance, the night continued with you showing him various different things throughout the market. From different juice stands to candies (which he denied rather quickly), you showed Hunter all that the market had to offer before stealing him away to show him the island itself. 

   While Omega and his brothers were distracted with the festival, you brought Hunter to the sandy shores. You removed your shoes and coaxed him to do the same before dragging him to the water. He cringed at how cold it was and stiffened when you splashed him, earning a glare that slowly turned into a smile when you turned to run away, laughing as loud and freely as one could. 

   And so the night continued — with music echoing from the city while water splashed and laughter bubbled from the sandy shores. The Giving Festival continued into the morning, and when Omega and Lyana tiredly returned home to find Hunter still missing, the two girls shared a knowing look that washed their fatigue away. They gossiped back and forth about you and Hunter, whispers turning into giggles that then turned into gasps when they realized that Hunter might, someday - possibly - plant roots on Pabu. 

   It occurred to Omega then, as she sat on the floor of Lyana’s bedroom surrounded by blankets and pillows and snacks, that the Giving Festival did, in fact, give her something. It wasn’t jewelry and it wasn’t candy, although she did hold every gift very close to her heart. It wasn’t Lyana and the new friends she’d made that night, including you and all the others she met.

   It was a new home — and that was the gift that Omega found herself cherishing the most. 

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(i'll be replying to comment reblogs in the comments of this post! just so that there isn't too much clutter on the dash 🫶🏼 a huge thank you to those who always have something nice to say about my writing. i might not always respond but please know that you all have my heart and my endless thanks for being so kind and encouraging. may the universe give back the same kindness you've given me, and i having nothing but love for you all!)

[miyooree]

Neverending Dreams

Lovebrush Chronicles AU story !

Summary:

Clarence pondered about the mystery behind Professor Heinrich's disappearance. Every time he came to a logical point, it seemed futile a while later – with no evidence left behind, the authorities closed the case. But, Clarence was stubborn; he was adamant to find out about the truth. That night, a strange dream brought him to a land surrounded by snow.

Word count: 1780 words !

Ao3 link: here !

Thank you KaiyoAzuma for collaborating ! <3

Chapter 1: Dream of a

Bygone Past.

Clarence sighed at the investigation report in front of him. Despite hoping for a definitive conclusion to what had happened in the cave with MC and Headmaster Heinrich, the investigation came up with nothing new.

Headmaster Heinrich was dead, MC was involved somehow (the investigators didn’t know that and his mind kept needling him with the consequences of “obstructing the law” and “withholding evidence”), Headmaster Heinrich had been dealing with some sort of astronomy-related contraption, and after all of this, Professor Anselm decided to take an “extended business trip” for “overseas research”.

All in all, it was a headache for the Student Council President.

Regardless, nothing could be done about it. The investigators called it a cold case, and a new Headmaster, named Liore, was being called in to replace Heinrich. Rumors ran rampant among the students, but without a definitive statement from the administration beyond “We are sorry for the unfortunate passing of our Headmaster…”, they remained just rumors. With any luck, they would die down and the students would chalk it up to some health complication and move on with their normal lives.

Clarence packed up the files and moved to turn off the lights in the Student Council room. It was late, going early morning, and once the room plunged into darkness, the moon and the stars shone brilliantly through the window. The work of the Student Council couldn’t be put off, but the classes of St. Shelter never stopped either. He needed to go to sleep now if he didn’t want to rely on caffeine to get through the next day.

The walk back to his dorm was quiet. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind and the click of Clarence’s shoes on the stone pavement. The wind brought a slight chill as it ruffled Clarence’s hair, but it wasn’t unbearable.

Soon enough, Clarence arrived back at his dorm. He went through the motions of preparing for bed - showering, brushing teeth, winding down - the fatigue of the day finally wearing down on him. He took off his glasses and set them down gently on the nightstand, settling in under the blankets. In the wake of everything that had happened over the past few days, sleep took him quickly.

***

The dream he had that night was rather peculiar. Clarence remembered dreaming of a snowy landscape; snowflakes drifting down as he stared into the horizon. He subconsciously moved forward, towards the small village between the mountains. The snow beneath his boots crunched with every footstep he took, the freezing wind made him shiver slightly. As he advanced towards the village, the residents greeted him cordially; both men and women, children and elders were delighted to see him. They began to gather around to see the magnificent man who had arrived at their village. Their bright smiles and sweet praises had taken him aback.

“I heard he saved a bunch of hunters stuck in a cave,” an excited boy from the crowd said with glee.

“Archmage Clayden is a wonderful man! He saved my husband and cured him with his magic,” a woman, presumably a hunter’s wife, commented.

Archmage Clayden… That must be who Clarence was dreaming of.

“What brings you here, Archmage Clayden?” A voice interrupted Clarence’s thoughts, he turned around to see a man smiling at him, extending a hand for him to shake.

Instinctively, Clarence refused the handshake and asked in an urgent tone, “Mayor, is there an Iris Village to the north of here? There's a farmer by the name of Oliver there.”

Clarence’s breathing became labored, giving away his nervousness.

“The Olivers? Everyone in Iris Village knows them. They've got a sprawling estate and huge tracts of farmland. They often come down here in autumn to sell grain,” a farmer lady politely replied. “Now that you mention it, you look a bit like their son… Are you a distant relative?”

“No, I'm visiting on behalf of a friend…” The Archmage replied, almost impulsively. Clarence could tell that he was lying. And without uttering anything further about the topic, the Archmage bid the villagers farewell and continued northward.

The next scene Clarence remembered was him standing on the edge, looking over at a village in the distance. The Archmage stood completely still for a moment, taking in the view. A villa stood in the middle of the snowy plains, with a distinct windmill and vast acres of fields surrounding the house. In the front yard of the villa, there sat an old woman in a wheelchair, and behind her was a young woman who whispered into her ear. Not far away, two men, one older and the other younger, stood in the doorway, looking out over their vast fields with contentment.

Clarence could tell they were related to the Archmage; the blue hair and eyes were undoubtedly similar – but, in an uncanny way, they were awfully similar to Clarence himself as well.

The Archmage stood on the hill, sighing softly. Clarence could understand that he felt conflicted. Any person would be excited to reunite with their family, but why wasn't he happy? Perhaps something disastrous happened between him and his family which created a rift in their relationship. Clarence didn't have much information in his hands, but in rural areas, and in such ancient times, it was common for impoverished families to sell off their children to earn money. After all, there was no despair greater than being betrayed by your own family.

The wind began to pick up, blowing from the north. Dark clouds appeared in the sky, and the freezing wind made the Archmage’s long, blue hair billow in the wind. The old woman and the young man went inside the house, and the Archmage turned around as well, leaving as he silently bid his family farewell.

Clarence, however, mumbled to himself and judged the Archmage’s decisions. He should've kept a proper plan with himself if he wished to visit his family, and he even left without a proper goodbye! The Archmage must be terrible at maintaining a proper timetable and etiquette.

Suddenly, the wizard stopped in his tracks, then he looked back – swarms of what seemed like butterflies were heading straight towards Iris Village. The butterflies had crystalline, almost transparent wings, they radiated a cold aura as they flapped their wings forward, advancing towards the villa at an impressive pace.

Without hesitation, the Archmage began to rush down the hill, over to the butterflies. Clarence noticed as the Archmage dispelled the butterflies with ease; a faint, blue-ish glow emitted from his gloved palm – and Clarence assumed it to be a heat spell, which eradicated the butterflies. The sorcerer was fast, but the butterflies were faster; within a few seconds, they made it to the villa, destroying it as they went on.

Clarence could hear screams reverberating through the air, piercing the deafening silence. Pleas of help echoed against the billowing wind as the residents rushed out into the cold. But, that didn't help; within a second, they were frozen and demolished by the glacial butterflies thereafter. Wherever the butterflies went, destruction followed – and they proceeded to destroy both the sorcerer’s family, and his emotional stability.

Clarence could only watch quietly – how the helpless people suffered the wrath of the unknown calamity, creating a vast expanse of cold blizzard, leaving nothing behind as they rampaged throughout the land.

The Archmage stood amidst the snow, still as stone; his knuckles clenched as his breathing labored once again. Fighting back tears, he knelt down on the snow, an immense pain coursing through his body.

The blizzard brought by those pests has engulfed everything; his memories, his love and hate, his resentment – and everything he had left. All was engulfed under a blanket of cold snow.

“I didn't expect it… to end like this,” Clarence heard the Archmage mutter to himself. “How many nights did I spend thinking of what I'd say to them? How I hate them? Blame them? Or would I forgive them? Would I be happy to see them?”

Clarence felt a sharp pain in his chest as he heard further, and it gradually increased with every word the mage said.

“But that doesn't matter now,” the Archmage continued. “Death is the end of everything.”

***

Clarence woke up, drenched in sweat. He panted heavily as he fumbled to grab his glasses on the nightstand. Clarence sighed, rubbing his eyes before putting on his glasses.

Clarence wasn't the type to overthink dreams, he had much more important tasks to handle. But this one seemed different; the blizzard, the screams of the innocent civilians, and most importantly: the Archmage. They seemed to be familiar. His appearance, behavior – everything seemed familiar. Did this have to do something with the case?

“Of course, not.” Clarence shook his head. “That was a simple nightmare.”

Clarence took his phone to check the time. 2:24 AM. He had plenty of time until the scheduled time when he usually started his day: 5 AM. He could've slept some more, but he didn't. He got up, folded the blanket, and put the pillow – which he had kicked while fighting the butterflies in his sleep – back to its place.

Clarence wondered what he'd do, and out of his workaholic nature, decided to sit down and work on some pending documents regarding the Student Council. But as he sat down to type, he found himself constantly getting distracted by the dream he had. He couldn’t help but feel that it had something to do with the case, with MC; he got reminded of the time when the painter girl asked for his blood before she swiftly jumped into a portal, onto a butterfly's back… wait – butterfly?

The soft sounds of typing came to a stop. Clarence stared blankly at the screen, his brows furrowed. He saw destructive butterflies in his dream, and a wizard losing his roots in the process of exterminating them. It sounds bizarre, but Clarence felt like it must be an important key.

That feeling only grew as, over the next few days, Clarence continued to dream of that desolate, snow-covered land. The mystery kept growing with every dream he had, reaching a point where sometimes he woke up disoriented and unable to tell whether or not his dreams were reality. He couldn’t continue working with his dreams infiltrating his every waking thought, so he opened a new document and began typing down his ideas: his dreams and what he had witnessed in them. And gradually, he seemed to notice a coherent plot and story flowing with every dream that he encountered. Then, one day, he came to a decision that he should publish the story.

Taglist: @lovebrushed @xcerizex @food-lover9000 @godheimm @xbalayage @nehamerchant123

Guys, wake up, fanfic writer Clarence just dropped !

[heavyhitterheaux]

Bed Full of Lies

Tahira's Tale as told by @moody4world

Heaux Tales of Jack Harlow

Lord where do I begin. This nigga really thought he had me fooled…fake ass promises, fake ass I love you’s and the list goes on and on. I’ll admit he had me in the beginning, I can admit that I was wrapped around his finger for a little while during our…whatever you wanna call it.

I wonder what the hell was going through his head thinking he could get away with something this disgusting. Beginning of march 2033 was when I met that son of a bitch. Charming as ever, fluffy curls and the most sparkling blue eyes that matched the waters there in Turks and Caicos. My mistake number 1 was smiling back at him in the hotel lobby. Mistake number 2 was smiling at him again that night at the beach side party and being foolish enough to dance with him.

Like a dumb ass I moved quickly to mistake number 3, accepting his invite to a party on a yacht the next morning, leading to my biggest mistake yet. Mistake number 4. Sleeping with him thinking that it would be the best way to conclude my ‘adventurous newly divorcee era’. Yes I had been married before.

My young 20 year old brain believed the guy I met at the ripe age of 16 in high school would be the same man I’d grow old with, only for that idea to come crashing when he told me he found someone new just a year later. That was 3 years ago and I haven’t outgrown my trust issues since. Constantly working and traveling to avoid making connections to anyone in that way again. Yet I unknowingly fell for the same trap but only this time I was the other woman.

Well….one of many it seems. After that night in Turks and Caicos Jack did not just leave it at that. We continued texting and face timing whenever we had the chance which frankly wasn’t that often due to both of us traveling often. Sometimes we would get lucky and end up in the same countries so we’d explore together and always ended up in one of our hotel rooms.

The pillow talk was the most dangerous part yet. That man just says anything when he’s pussy whipped, promised me a family, a house and anything that would make me smile and give into him all over again. We would dance around in our rooms, if I was staying in a suite or airbnb I’d cook for him.

Teaching him how to dance bachata was a headache, really showed his white side because that man had no rhythm. That should’ve been a red flag on its own but I guess I had to learn the hard way. Jack and I never argued up until November of 2033 when he started acting strange, that’s the first time my image of him started to change. He’d become a lot more protective over his phone and defensive when it came to certain topics.

Apparently I was the insecure one for questioning why his followers was somewhat private. Claiming “That’s a violation of my privacy though, why would you go through my followers for?” Everything just seemed to snowball from there, every time we met up we’d argue then fuck and make up then repeat.

Jack knew I was crazy, ever since I told him how I ruined my ex husband’s career after he cheated, Jack knew not to mess with me. After another fuck and make up session, Jack had to leave for sound check. All I could think about was his phone constantly ringing while he was in my bathroom and then hearing him whisper on the phone. I fought my urge, I really did but I couldn’t any longer. I knew his entire family tree’s names at this point, first and last.

Using every social media platform I could think of, I looked up more family members of his than I would like to admit. I just could not believe my eyes at what I was seeing. Not only did he have a wife but kids too…betrayal couldn’t even describe what I was feeling. It was that and much more, maybe rage? or was it hurt, embarrassment or rejection?

One thing I knew for certain is that I let my guard down to the wrong man for the second time in my life and I was going to make sure that he pays. Right as I was clicking out of the profile that revealed Jack’s truth, he himself walked back through my door. “Hey Hira I forgot to grab my wallet, did you see it?” All I could do was stare blankly at him as I approached him.

I could feel his uneasiness at my odd behavior but I wish he could feel the heat radiating from my body due to my blood boiling in anger. Before we both knew it a loud clap could be heard across my hallway and a burning sting rushing through my right palm as his left cheek began to change from pale and freckled to a bright pink that was definitely not from blushing. His right hand slowly came up to soothe the pain in his left cheek as he turned his head back to me at the same slow pace.

By now I was fighting my tears and he could definitely see it. The slap he just received along with me telling him to grab his wallet and get the hell out of my life through gritted teeth accompanied by my heavy breathing, told him everything he needed to know.

His dirty secret was out and there was no persuading me. He silently walked past me, grabbing his wallet and walked back to the door I held open waiting for him to leave. Once he got to the door he stopped, still holding his burning cheek and dared to look me in my eyes. My eyes may have been tear filled but I was not going to back down from my angered glare towards him. “Hira I’m so sorry” Well I’m assuming that’s what he said. All I had to hear was my name coming from his lying ass mouth for me to slam my door in his face. The walls I built around my heart 3 years ago came right back up just as fast as that door swung shut as my face flooded with tears.

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

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@awhore4moree

@a-moment-captured

@jackmans-poison

@valentinqee

@lightsoutstyles

@j-worlds-blog

[evesaintyves]

Trick or treat! 🍭

thank you @annabtg !!

i know you like jily so im writing you a @jilymicrofics i guess? i've never really written these two characters before except as guest appearances but here goes

(863 words)

Scouring charms were invented by a man, it's obvious, because it takes about nine passes to get the dried-up spat-out Pablum off the wall. James thinks the mess is cute and she should leave it—it's almost like art, he said once, the spatter-pattern of flecks on the wallpaper. He was raised with house-elves and never learned to clean. Right, our little Jackson Pollock, Lily muttered, and James didn't know what she was talking about.

Every day he disappears into the box room and polishes a broom he hasn't ridden in months. Sometimes the two of them duel in the back garden, with Harry in his highchair behind an iridescent bubble of defensive spells. James rarely gets a shot past Lily, but when he does, Harry cackles in his strangely bawdy toddler way and smacks the biscuit crumbs around on his tray. It can feel a bit like they're ganging up on her. James swaggers up, clears up her boils or whatever else he's hexed her with, and then murmurs in her ear, why don't we put him in his cot and have a lie down?

It wasn't so long ago that she'd have giggled and dragged him upstairs by the hand. Now she says I really ought to degnome the garden, they're digging up all our leeks, and for just a second there's a look on his face like he might suggest they just do it right here in the garden, but he doesn't. He doesn't offer to help, either. He scoops Harry up, takes him off to build a castle with the blocks she's always somehow stepping on. She zaps the gnomes with disproportionate venom and spends most of the afternoon outside.

This life looks so much like what she'd imagined, little cottage, ivy climbing round the door, kitten and baby and husband cuddled up in the big downy bed, but it feels so different—like when you look at a photograph and your face is asymmetrical and weird, different from the mirror, familiar but wrong. These curtain-twitching, lay-low, you're joking me Mad-Eye he's been a mate since forever days of known unknowns and unknown unknowns and nightmares, constantly, of being chased; worse, almost, this ennui of stuffing nappies down the overflowing bin and picking up the hundred socks James somehow peels off daily.

When she was a girl, the morning glory on the chain-link fence used to turn their purple faces to follow her. She still remembers, and sometimes recites in her head, the fussy formulas for wolfsbane, veritaserum, the little trick for making a paste of aconite with the side of her knife.

Even Petunia, these days, is leaving her boy with a sitter and going to cocktail parties, holidays by the sea—that's what Mum said in her very last letter, anyway. She sounded so proud. Lily used to think she'd done well for herself, pulled off quite a trick, married for love and got money in the bargain, but now she might as well be in some pebbledash in Cokeworth, sweeping the kitchen lino. At least she'd get to go out to the shops.

Ten scouring charms later, she can still feel the grit of cereal bits when she runs her nails over the wall. The wallpaper's going discoloured, there, and it's hard to tell anymore what's paisley and what's Pablum. Lily half-remembers a story she read, or maybe heard about, where a woman falls ill and goes spare looking at the wallpaper in her sickroom. The thing is, Lily can't imagine being bedridden, going mad. Who has the time? Who would do the laundry?

I feel like a waste of talent, she whispers to James that night, in that shifting awkwardness before sleep, when she's wondering if he'll reach for her and trying to decide if she wants him to. This time he does: slides his hand down her arm and interlocks his fingers with hers.

You're not a waste of anything, he tells her. He presses a kiss to her neck and then buries his nose in the hair behind her ear. After a minute: This isn't a waste. It's like school. Like detention. We just have to get through it so we can go on with life.

I never got detention, she says.

Well, I'm sorry. You missed a lot of fun.

Lily snorts.

Seriously, James says. Maybe I'm just stir-crazy, but I actually miss it.

You just miss chatting shit with Sirius.

Well yeah, all right? But I miss those times. Even the boring, shitty times. One of these days—

Lily rolls her eyes. Oh, stop.

—No, let me finish, one of these days Harry will be off at school and we'll be moaning, oh, I miss when he was just little, getting peas in the carpet—

You're not the one cleaning up the peas.

Well, you're better at that sort of thing. But I do about three-quarters of the nappies.

Lily sucks her teeth. That's true.

See, he says, sounding delighted. We agree!

Harry and the kitten are both snoring, and five minutes later, James is too. When Lily finally closes her eyes, the paisley-swirls and speckles are there inside her eyelids.

[greglow03]

"A Reunion To Remember", but Google Translate💻📚 did a number on it...

So I was bored and wanted to mess around with google translate... So, reasonably I threw in one of my FNAF fics, and ended up with this result. It probably will be more funnier if you've read the OG fic, but never the less, a laugh or 2 will surely come! ^_^

Enjoy the laughs!!!🤗

---------

Language: English Characters: Gregory, Vanessa, Glam. Freddy (Does he even speak in this G-Translate one???), Tony Becker Ships: Beckory (I think?🤔) Description: It was a story following the events of SB + GGY with Beckory, but... kinda got lost in translation... *Note: Vanessa is half trans-masculine and female in this translated version, so keep that in mind. (Google can't decide on one, lol). Also, the coming out scene is non-existent :3

---------

Comfortable! The morning...! To escape Fanny's power ... he waits, why is he waiting for this event ... laughing with his friends. Freddie put his head in the bag and turned it over.

“Okay guys. We are out of this terrible place.” Sandari said as the boy turned around and stomped his feet on the ground.

I'll shut up! They tried to escape at night and kill people. This place gives life. Except. He thinks this is what happened to the girl. I am afraid of everything. At least they are together.

_______

"Isn't that wonderful? Do whatever you want. We're going to go crazy and force you to do things you don't want. Everyone's going to go crazy if you think that's a good vote." I can't see, the sun is out!"

Gregory likes sunrises with ice cream. But the idea is there. He is guilty of what he did or did not do. But evil thoughts harm him.

- Who is my son? But he was not with the boy.

"Yes dear! Are you sure" Gregory smiled and waved at the boy, Vanessa was surprised to see him waiting for an answer.

- Yes... he's kneeling. Vanessa's smile softened a little when the answer was revealed. But the child is innocent. Creating a positive attitude can be difficult. He looked at the sun and continued eating the ice cream. When the mind calms down, it stops repressing the memories.

_______

Last week, Vanessa bought a third apartment in a quiet area, and after signing the purchase agreement for the house, Vanessa hired a manager and paid the bill. The boy's happiness didn't last long... But something happened and his heart ached. Even before I went to bed I had a guilty conscience. But the errors are getting worse day by day.

---------

Greg, no! I thought you were my friend..." - The man and woman do not question their hearts, the black-eyed man and woman fall to the ground and roll.

"Oh, you think prayer will help me?" You don't have to worry about GGI, so you know what to expect when the going gets tough.

- But the time has come. He drew his sword. The woman tried to free him with her own hands, but failed. I opened my eyes to see what was happening. He saw it stuck in the middle of the beak.

"What? Can I transfer?" It was as if some unknown force was holding him back. Suddenly the boy fell to the ground.

- What happened to Spring Rabbit? The assassin fell to the ground. But not before he forced his gray eyes to study the purple clouds. The injured child saw a strange sight before him.

"T-Tony, my name is Griscore! I can't do anything right now."

- Greg, how can I help you? He didn't want to leave his friend alone.

"No, not now, Tony. Listen, goodbye."

“Thanks Greg! She cried thinking I might see her again. The kids are sleeping on the floor.

_______

"There are!!!" The boy woke up and started crying. The door opened and a woman entered.

- I thought everything was fine, but what happened? He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at his son. Gregory shuddered. It is gray because it is made of wood.

"I'm okay!" “It was just a dream.” He sighed and spoke quietly. “We were talking about the pizzaplex, yes…someone asked why he had nightmares and why he was sick every night.

"I came here to know how you feel."

- Speak, get out of your head, speak well, help me... - The blonde lay down on the bed and smiled. Gregor looked under the hood and sighed.

He bowed his head and spoke. “Something is happening, I don't know if I should say it or not. So sad, this dream is so bad, but also sad because he doesn't trust the people he trusts. The careless girl took his head and held it up. .” And the boy looked him in the eyes with his finger and raised his chin.

"You can say what you want Greg! I'm here to help. A 13 year old has eyes."

"Well..." I thought to myself, I don't think you'll let me go again! Vanessa nodded, her big brown eyes sparkling in the light. The pulse began to quicken.

He smiled and said whether you like it or not, I won't leave you. And Gregory laughed.

He's my best friend, I almost killed him. I believe you committed the crime of betraying him... you hurt him by holding his hand...” He looked at the boy with hope and surprise.

- I see, my dear, at least one of your friends is alive.

"I want to see you as an example!" I have to say I love it!

- Come on, it's time to go, he grabbed someone. He was just happy that he was not sick. Vanessa gently stood him up.

"You see!"

"I love you Vanessa! Thank you." He smiled too.

"I like it!

________

Overall, I'm so glad I missed this evening. Vanessa waited for a month. He wants to find a place to love you. I spent the night remembering Gregorio on the laptop. What's the difference...

"On March 5 at 3:30 p.m., Mr. Gao Li of his friend's Gusty Bulb Youth Center, 46 Norwell Street, was watching from the window. Every month after school, he is opening a youth book club to promote the arts. .

You are ready monster, the day has come! He tried to listen to this question. Grell looked at him thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I'm sure…" Nessie put a hand on his shoulder, he replied in disbelief.

- I know it's possible, I'm fourteen years old. Gregorio turned his head and remembered. He smiled as he got out of the truck with newfound confidence.

- Grigory came home, but a young man came. The red man in the green shirt has a key. A bright smile appeared on Grigory's face. Kabud saw the long-haired man and was surprised that he was riding a bicycle. Grigol returned to the direction he came from. Then the boy turned to the wall.

"Please...ah...don't hurt me! Please!" He leaned against the cement wall and closed his eyes. He thought that the first accident in his youth would prevent his death, but he did not think that it would happen later in his life.

"Tony!" - said the boy, having grown stronger, Tony opened his eyes in surprise and kissed his head. But Grigory likes to kiss.

“Ah… it's not GGI, but how can I trust you?

- Tony, it's me!

-Hello Tony. » asked Greg.

- Yes Greg? he asked impatiently.

"Do you want to go for pizza?" Still a wonderful song.

“Okay, I'll make pizza,” Greg said, leaving Tony behind and heading to the car.

Then cut the pizza and see what happened a few years ago. They become friends and become close, but at one point he admits that he is a doll.

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

Sorry, Tony. You get left behind. True love right there, lmao🍕

I hope you've had a good laugh! (I died making this🤣) [Let me know, if you would want me to do this with another fic].

Anyway, a link to the OG fic if anyone's interested.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

A second queen  Part 2- Discovery

Pairing: Daemon x Reader (Summer Isles) x Ashara Martel (OC character. Will appear in the parts 3 & 4)

Themes :Ansgt | Kinda sorta fluffy ending

Word count: 2.7k words

Summary: Life in Volantis is not all that bad, and the family you work for is good for you. But then, you see a familiar face, someone you though you would never see again.

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

If you like this, please consider giving it a reblog.

Six years had passed since that fateful day.

You heard of Daemon’s wedding and the Dornish princess he took to wife. You heard he had settled into the role of a happy family man, that he had grown content with his lot in life. You found out no children had been born into the marriage, and already there was talk of a grand council. A decision on who would succeed the ailing king should his brother not produce an heir had to be made. 

You put such news out of your mind. Daemon never searched for you, never inquired after the child you birthed, and why should he? He made it plain he never wanted to marry you. He had destroyed all your letters, so why should he look for a child he never cared to learn about in the first place?

And Gods, how it hurt. Being lied to and used hurt. Being made to feel less than hurt. Having to give birth in a strange home, frightened and alone, without your child’s sire by your side, hurt. Why it was enough to leave you weeping into your pillows every night. 

And tonight, you stood by Jace's bed, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. His arms had wrapped tight around the toy ship Talisa’s mother had given him on his fifth name day. When she asked who the father was, you only said he was a Lyseni sailor, a man of no consequence. The lie came easily as your son possessed the same silver-gold hair, chiseled features, and violet eyes most Lysene were famed for. Lady Sybell, an observant woman, did not believe you but accepted your answer. Jacaerys, or Jace, as everyone called him, was allowed to study with Lady Sybell’s grandchildren. He had everything save for the one thing that mattered. A father. 

Oh, how your hands turned into angry fists at the thought. 

Still, you learned to be content with your son and new home. It still stung whenever you looked at your child and wondered what might have been had Daemon fought for you. Jace could have claimed a dragon by now. He and his father could have driven you to distraction with their antics. You would have spent every night in Daemon's bed, being loved by him, instead of sleeping in a cold room every night. 

And your days were filled with the same routine. 

You would wake up before dawn, eat a quick meal with the rest of the servants and go about your duties. You would then bring Talisa’s breakfast to her, lay out her clothes and arrange her bath. You would help her dress, then fix her hair. Sometimes, you would tend to Lady Sybell herself, and you did not mind. Talisa was a sweet and considerate young woman. Her mother was a fair and generous mistress. It was not bad, this new life you lived, but sometimes, you would find your mind wandering back to Westeros and its future king and the life the three of you could have lived. 

Then at night, you could weep into your pillows again.

                                  ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

"Three pieces of silver, madam."

The shopkeeper and their outstretched hand brought you out of your usual daydreaming. "My apologies," you said, and you gave her the money. After accepting your bags, you sighed and looked around, at odds with your time.

Lady Sybell had taken Talisa out for the day, giving you plenty of free time. You walked around the marketplace, nibbling on exotic fruits and buying trinkets Jace would have liked. Finally, you came to the mummer’s square, where dancers, mages, and mummers performed in the hope of patronage and coin. 

There were fire mages today, performing wondrous acts for a growing crowd. They made flames rise and dance, created creatures that could only be found in fairy tales, and whipped thin coils of flames about, making them whirl over and around stunned onlookers. 

You watched and watched, losing track of time and oblivious to everything around you. A nearby bell struck the hour. You had to go back. The family would return soon, and you had to help Talisa prepare for a feast tonight. You held onto your bags and looked around again, not stopping until your gaze rested on a pair of familiar lilac eyes. You swallowed and stared when wisps of silver-gold hair whipped about in the breeze. You pinched yourself to make sure you were not dreaming. 

The sting in your arm convinced you that this was no dream. Daemon was here. He was actually here. And the way he looked at you, like he could not believe his eyes.

You wanted nothing to do with him. When he made his way over, you ran, ignoring his pleas for you to stop. You ran and ran, not stopping until you reached the safety of the Maegyr manse. You held onto the wrought iron gate and panted, your heart pounding away in your chest. You tried to grapple with the enormity of what just took place. 

He was here. Daemon was here, behind the black walls of Volantis. And he had seen you. Oh, this was not good at all.

"Mama?"

The sudden greeting startled you. "Oh, sweetheart." You pressed a hand to your chest and smiled while your son opened the gate. "You scared me."

Jace raised his head and smirked, flashing the same wide grin as his father. "Who is he, mama?" he said, pointing to someone behind you. 

That someone came forward and introduced themselves. "I am prince Daemon Targaryen of Westeros." 

You closed your eyes and sighed. Daemon had followed you back to the manse, and he had seen his son. 

Daemon came over and crouched in front of Jace, taking in his soft, pale hair, chiseled jaw, and vivid purple eyes. Why, the child was exact in many ways. "And you are?"

"Jace," Your son replied. "Everyone calls me Jace."

“Short for Jacaerys,” you said, when Daemon turned to you. 

Jacaerys. It was the name he had always wanted to give his first son. Daemon repeated it silently, as if he were tasting it.  "And how old are you, Jace?"

He did not have to ask for an age, did not have to ask for anything, really. Daemon already knew, but wanted to hear it all the same.

"Almost six," you said and sent Jace back inside as that familiar sharp pang of rage and heartache took hold in your heart. "And why are you here?"

Daemon stood up, unable to look you in the eye. Shame and guilt had been eating at him for years, and now he didn’t know what to say to you. He knew he had to say something, but what? What could he say to the love he had abandoned all those years ago?

"Well?" you demanded.

He swallowed, looked at the house, then at you. "That day. The day you were sent away. You wanted to tell me you were with child, didn’t you?"

You refused to answer. You thought he did not deserve one, not after everything that happened.

Daemon took a step forward, forcing you to step back. "I'm so sorry," he said, taking another step towards you and only stopping when you flinched and backed away. 

Your eyes stung when memories of that awful day came flooding back. "Why are you here?"

Daemon swallowed and looked at the house, at a very specifc window, where a specific little boy could be seen looking at the two of them. A stab of guilt tore at his gut. "I found out what really happened. Otto slipped up and I made him tell me everything."

Daemon went on to explain how there had been no manse, how Otto made sure you did not get a cent of what Daemon put aside for you. He found out how you never made it to Bear Island and that Otto put you on a ship for Volantis after snooping through your letters and finding out you were pregnant.  

"I've come to take you and our child with me," he added, hoping and praying that it was not too late and that you still had not closed your heart to him. "I plan on making you my second wife."

"Why?" you sneered. "So your brother can avoid a succession crisis? Is that it?"

"No!" Daemon tried to reach out and touch you like he used to. When you flinched, he forced himself to stay his hands, thinking he had lost all right to do so. "Not because of the succession crisis! I…” his shoulders drooped a little. “I just want you back."    You flung back every word Daemon and Otto threw at you. "I am a bastard with no name or title. I am a low-born woman of little consequence. Someone who has no connections. Marrying me will bring no advantage to the crown. That is what you and Otto told me, yes?"

Daemon sank to his knees then, not caring that passersby gaped at the sight of a clearly high-born man kneeling before a servant. "And I offer no excuse for any of it," he said, his eyes filling with tears. "You had no one at court save for me, and I... I broke my vows and abandoned you. Y/n..." he pleaded when you pulled away from him. "Sweetheart, I am so sorry... For everything that happened. Please, let me make amends for failing you in every possible way."

"By marrying me?" Tears strained at the corners of your eyes before falling down and staining your cheeks. "Why do you want to marry me?"

"Because I want to do right by you and our child." Daemon swallowed before speaking again. "Because I still love you, that’s why."

You gasped and took a deep breath to compose yourself. Daemon claimed to still love you, but was that the truth? "More of your lies?" you hissed through your teeth. "More fanciful tales to get me on my back?"

Daemon flinched, like you had just slapped him. "Of course not!" He rose as his  anger bubbled and he took a deep, steadying breath to compose himself. You had every right not to trust him, he reasoned. "Of course not. I do love you. I will do anything to get you back. Please," he said, his eyes filled with silent pleading. "Tell me what I must do to get you back?"

Did he truly want your forgiveness, another chance? Did he truly want to marry you? But what of his wife? What did she have to say about such a scheme? "Does Ashara know?"

Daemon replied with an immediate, "Ashara helped me find you. She wants me to do this. Please, sweetheart, there is no trickery here. I really do want to marry you and be a father to our son."

You swallowed, determined to say no. Daemon wounded you in a way you never thought possible. He let his brother’s knights lay hands on you and did nothing to find out if you were truly cared for or not. You should have told him no, that the damned could take him, and that he should suffer for the rest of his days.

You looked at him, your eyes spitting fire. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness. Then you turned back to the manse. Jace was by the window, looking at you both, his eyes filled with curiosity. It was the same look Daemon had, and you sighed. 

Daemon was his father. No matter what happened, Daemon was Jace's father. And you knew all too well the pain of being born to a man who never claimed you, who wanted nothing to do with you. You knew all too well the struggles that came with being a bastard, and you did not want Jace to struggle the way you did. Your child deserved a better fate. You swallowed your pride and came to a decision, hoping you would not come to regret it in the future.

"I will marry you," you ground out, and Daemon's eyes lit up in joy.

"For Jace's sake," you continued. "But know this..."

Daemon nodded and encouraged you to go on.

"I will never lie with you. And I will never forgive you for what you did."

He swallowed but accepted your decision. The gods knew he had no right to argue your choice.

"And now I must depart," you said as you gathered your belongings and made your way back to the house. "Goodbye, prince Daemon."

Daemon could only rise and watch as the gate slammed behind you.

                                        ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

You spoke to Jace that very evening, about how the prince was his father. Jace was overjoyed, and that joy grew when Daemon came over for dinner, much to the shock of everyone. Everyone except for Lady Sybell, that is.

Oh, she knew. She had met the prince years before, and she had long suspected he was the father. “The same dimpled cheeks,” she mused, “The same wide grin. If Jace had been born with his father’s colouring he would be Daemon’s exact in every way. Why did you not tell me?”

You swallowed, hoping she would not be angry with you. “I am sorry, my lady. But I had no choice.”

Sybell sighed and patted your hand. “I understand. But are you truly going to marry him?”

You looked on, as Daemon talked with his son. He kept Jace on his lap and regaled him with stories of Westeros and Kings Landing. “I must,” you huffed in frustration. There was no other way now, Daemon would follow you and Jace to the ends of the earth if he had to. “My son needs his father. I will not deny him that. As for me and the prince…” You shrugged, completely at a loss. That spark you felt for Daemon was there, buried deep within your heart, but you didn’t want to let it burn bright again. “I do not know.”

Jace had been staring at his father, completely wide-eyed. "You ride a dragon?" he said, his eyes filling with wonder. "A real dragon?"

Daemon grinned and pulled out a wooden carving of a dragon, all painted in deep red. "Caraxes. The blood wyrm." He held out the carving for his son to take. "He looks like this."

Purple eyes went wide with shock. "Can I have a dragon too?" Jace studied the carving, running his fingers over the wings and the unusually long neck. 

Daemon smiled indulgently and ran a hand over his son's wavy, silver-gold hold hair. He cursed himself for what he did, thinking how he lost six years of his son’s life, and all because he did not have the strength to fight for his son’s mother. "Yes,” he said indulgently. “But we will have to go to the Stepstones, for that is where the dragons live."

Jace beamed, then hopped down to run around the dining room, carving in hand, pretending he was atop a great dragon. Talisa’s little brother chased him, the two of them pretending to fight a great battle, much to the amusement of others.

And Daemon watched while guilt tore at him. Had he taken better care of you, his son would have had a proper name right from the start and would have had a dragon's egg placed in his crib. You would have been crown princess, and Jace a prince. You would not have had to struggle as someone’s servant. But Daemon had a chance now, to make things right. He looked at you, his entire countenance softening when you looked back at him. You scowled and looked away again, even though your cheeks warmed a little. He would not see it. Not for a long while. Not until you were certain he was not playing you false. When you looked his way again, his lips tugged at the corners into a shy smile, his eyes never leaving yours.

And Daemon gave you your space. He made no attempt to approach you in a private corner, made no attempt to touch you.

He did the same during the long voyage back to Westeros. He made sure you and Jace had the best room, the best of what he could personally offer the two of you. He spent every possible moment with his son, to make up for those lost years. You would hide in the shadows and watch while he played with Jace, while he read him stories and put him to bed. And when it came to you?

Daemon kept away as much as he could when it came to you. Oh, you would catch him watching your every move, listening to your every word with rapt attention. He made sure you ate, made sure you were comfortable, but he went no further than that. It honestly felt like the early days, when he was trying to catch your attention and court you. It made you yearn, for a time from before.

And you felt the ice in your heart crack a little.

[charliedawn]

Hello! Is it possible for me to get a one-shot of Morgen Lecter and wife!reader where she is brought into the hospital after her friend and her get into a bad car accident (the friend was driving and texting despite his wife's protests) and his wife badly hurt, but lives as does her friend (who didn't get that hurt)? Also, can he be livid with the friend?

Thank you!

Morgan was having his usual shift at the hospital when he was warned of an emergency at the entrance.

He went there and frowned as he saw a familiar woman standing there.

He then remembered that she was your friend...friend that you were supposed to spend the night with.

What was she doing here ? Had you come to visit ? He looked around for you, but frowned as he didn't see you.

That's when he noticed the band-aids on her face and arms. She looked like she had been in a car accident.

He returned his eyes on your friend who looked anxious and froze in shock when she saw him. Her eyes widened and she suddenly broke into tears.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't drink that much. It was raining and I..."

He didn't let let her finish—his jaw twitching as he asked with a deadly calmness.

"Where is she ?"

Your friend took a step back at the coldness in his eyes. He almost seemed...dead inside.

He just wanted to know where you were.

He took a small step forward and his eyelids felt so heavy...He felt a dullness in his heart as he asked again.

"Where is she ? Please...Tell me. Tell me she wasn't with you."

He didn't know who he was pleading to and your friend's face twisted with sorrow as she opened her mouth and tried to find the words.

"It...It wasn't my fault. I...It was raining and I..."

Morgan felt ice grow in his chest.

He raised his hand forward and for a second, your friend tought he was going to attack her...But, he lowered it and shook his head.

No. He refused to believe it. You couldn't be...

He had trouble breathing and gritted his teeth before turning around and leaving to check with the medical staff.

You must be somewhere. You had to be...

He felt dizzy and his eyes were glassy.

What a strange feeling...

He had never been afraid before.

He kept walking and searched for you everywhere. You had to be here. You couldn't...You couldn't be...He shook his head as memories of the both of you kept flashing in front of his eyes.

No. You couldn't be...

Finally, he had the information from one of his colleagues that you had been admitted in urgent care and thanked him before walking to your room.

He found you asleep and sat down next to you. He stared at your peaceful face and for once, Morgan was at a loss for words.

He wanted to cry, but his eyes were dry.

His throat felt like sandpaper as he swallowed and took your hand in his.

"Please...Wake up. I don't care where you are or if you are having the most wonderful dream...I'm begging you. Wake up for me."

He kissed the palm of your hand and finally, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"...Wake up, my love."

A few weeks later :

Morgan was doing his regular rounds and finished with your room.

He sat by you side again and started talking to you about his day—as if everything was alright.

He knew it wasn't, but he didn't want to sound dejected. He wanted you to hear his voice and come back to him as soon as possible.

He kissed your forehead and smiled, but didn't back away.

He stayed there, and even if he had promised himself not to let himself despair...He couldn’t help but shed a few tears and shake as days of exhaustion took their toll on him.

"I love you...Please, Y/N. Come back. Come back to me."

And as if you had heard his desperate call—your eyes fluttered open and you let out a soft gasp.

Morgan's eyes snapped open and his face lit up with a smile as he quickly wiped his tears away.

"Hello there, sleeping beauty. You scared me, you know ?"

You couldn't help but smile up at him and look at your intertwined fingers with tears in your eyes.

"I heard you...Every night...I..."

You groaned at the pain in your lower back as you pushed yourself upright and Morgan eagerly helped you.

"Hey, don't move you'll...", he started.

But then, you froze and your eyes watered.

"Morgan...My legs. I can't feel them."

Morgan's eyes widened as he looked at your legs and his breath hitched. Hd did think about it and by the way you had stayed the longest under your car—he had dreaded the possibility.

You broke into sobs in his arms and he held you close against his chest.

"Ssh...It's alright. We're alright. You're awake. That's all that matters. We'll fix this. I'll fix this..."

He refused to let you go and kissed your forehead.

That's when a noise alerted the both of you of another presence.

Your friend was standing in the doorway.

She had waited for you to wake up too.

She came in with a sorrowful look on her face and bit her her lower lip in order not to break into sobs as she saw you awake.

"I'm...I'm so sorry, Y/N. They say they have to perform surgery and I...I'm so sorry. Please. Forgive me. I didn't mean to.."

She wanted to get closer, but Morgan glared up at her.

"You almost made me lose her. She may never get up ever again because of you. You are so lucky she still cares about you, or I'd have already dragged you to the woods and finish you off."

You shivered at the threat that you knew was all too real.

He then stood up and faced your friend with his eyebrows furrowed and fists clenched tightly.

"You were supposed to get her home safe...You failed. You're a failure, and a bad friend. NOW, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT !"

"Morgan !", you gasped—horrified as his expression changed and you were scared the vein at the side of his neck would actually burst.

You had never seen him so angry...

Your friend's eyes widened at his words and tears started spilling down her face.

"I...I said I was sorry."

Morgan's eyes turned dark from the pure anger raging inside of him and your friend seemed to understand she might not survive if she was to stay.

She gave you one last apologetic glance before leaving.

Morgan followed her with his eyes until she was out of the room before he returned beside you to take your hand.

"...I'll find a way. I'll fix this. I promise.", he told you and you smiled tenderly at him.

You looked at both of your rings and were grateful yours hadn't fallen off.

"I know you will, Morgan. I trust you."

He closed his fingers over your and brought your knuckles to his lips to press his lips against them.

He didn't know why you seemed to have so much faith in him, but he swore he would live up to your expectations.

He would make everything okay again.

He made you the promise by then kissing the ring on your finger.

"...I won't leave you. Never."

You sniffed and wrapped your arms around him.

"I know...I love you."

Morgan smiled and held you closer to him.

"I love you too."

[snippychicke]

Cats & Ships Chapter Five

Title: Cats & Ships

Overall Rating: Teen for now, will go into mature at a future date

Trigger warnings: Nothing beyond what's in the live-action series. I mean, Kuro's still manipulative and paranoid. It gets better tho? Slowly?

Pairings: Captain Kuro (Klahadore)/Reader; hints of Kaya/Usopp

Summary: It started out as a means to get information as Khaladore. Who would be better to provide information regarding the high seas than Syrup Village’s Harbormaster? Except, for the first time in a very long time, Kuro found himself trusting, and even liking, the young woman he shared tea with every week. 

And then the Straw Hat Pirates arrived and ruined his plans. Except fate decided his story wasn’t done there. 

Nor was yours.

Masterlist here! | Read on Ao3!

While most of his crew decided to sleep at the tavern (whether they actively decided that or not was another issue he would address tomorrow) Kuro retreated back to his ship, unable to sleep in a strange place. 

Though, the thought of following you home as you called it a night as well was tempting. You had even offered, albeit jokingly. “I have a piece of floor and some bedding if you don’t want to make the trek back to port.” Kuro doubted he would have been able to sleep… but the idea of having you in his arms again. That was far more appealing than it should be. 

He had enjoyed it far more than he should have back in the tavern. You weren’t a waif like Kaya (he had held the girl a few times as she cried herself to sleep, unaware his blood was boiling with every little sniffle. Her life? Hard? The child knew nothing of pain and suffering) and there had been something comforting about having that extra weight on him. Or maybe it was the fact it was you, leaning on him like you trusted him despite everything. 

And the way you had looked at him. So honest and open with no hint of fear, just like back Syrup Village.  He found himself wanting to trust you again. He wanted more, to taste the drink still staining your lips. To see if you would be willing to return to the ship with him, if just for the night. To chase that blush as far as it went. To tangle your hair into the mess it once had been. To hear you gasp and whine his name--either name-- as your nails scratched down his back. 

He shook those thoughts out of his mind. There was no way he could trust you, as weak as you were. He found it highly unlikely that you wouldn’t take the chance to stab him in the back or slit his throat given the opportunity, despite the fact you insisted you weren’t interested in revenge.

Jango was waiting on the deck of the Bezan Black, wearing his typical heart-shaped glasses despite the late hour. “Cap’n,” he greeted as Kuro approached. “We’re restocked and ready to leave at first light… though I have to wonder, where’s the rest of the crew?” 

“Passed out at the Mazer tavern,” he growled. “...have five hundred berry taken to the tavern for the tab they incurred. Subtracted from the crew’s wages, of course.”

Jango smiled faintly, “Feeling generous, hmm? They must have had some pretty good food and drinks. I'll have to remember that the next time we're in port." 

 "We won't." Was Kuro's sharp reply as he passed his first mate, heading towards his quarters. 

No. He would avoid Maple Town as if it was a marine base and not the quiet town it was. He would avoid you until he was able to overcome whatever weaknesses three years in disguise had done to him. 

***

Except things did not go according to plan. Of course. 

While all of his other plans had been successful over the next month, and the hull of the Bezan Black became heavy with treasure, the plan of avoiding you until he forgot about you was not as successful. 

It was like his own mind was actively working against him, and every little thing brought you to the forefront of his mind. A glass of red wine. A cup of tea. Any black and white cats hanging about the various ports. 

And it was only worse if he saw someone that even remotely resembled you. It was like someone clenching his heart in his chest, making it hard to breathe. Emotions like longing, loss, would strike him like his own blades. 

And it was driving him insane. 

He shouldn't feel like he needed anyone. Since he was a small child on the streets he had tempered those feelings away to the point he thought they had been erased before he became Kuro of a thousand plans. 

And yet here he was; thinking of you daily. Missing you. 

There had to be a way he could get rid of this. It was one thing to be fond of you, but to feel like he needed you was unacceptable. 

His thoughts were interrupted as he overheard a conversation in the small port they were restocking in. 

"... yeah, those Jones Pirates are trying a set up like Arlong Park. Those poor people in Maple town, those pirates will bleed them dry of their money, and then their blood." 

Jango gave Kuro an odd look when the pirate captain froze while raising his glass, unaware of the dark-haired man attempting to bite back the sudden onslaught of rage. Fear. 

“Captain?” Jango finally asked cautiously, seeing Kuro’s hand clenched tight enough that the stem of the wineglass cracked. 

“Everyone return to the ship at once,” Kuro stated as he suddenly stood, catching the attention of the rest of the crew that was scattered across the pub, celebrating another victorious set of raids. “Set sail for Maple Town.” 

No one dared to argue. Granted, no one would on a good day, but especially when Kuro's eyes were as dark as the pitch on Bezan Black itself.