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starqueensthings · 7 months ago

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We need to talk about Echo (and by talk I mean screm). S3 E13 + 14 Spoilers!

FRIENDS, I'M GOING TO EXPLODE. I need to talk about Echo for a minute. We need to talk about Echo for a minute, because he has spent the last two episodes in the absolute thralls of complete and total danger, and I personally don't feel like there's been enough of a celebratory uproar for me to be satisfied with the level of appreciation and love that man deserves. (Remember when Hunter ran face first into a colossal exhaust pipe and we all collectively lost our minds because it was so impressive and so sexy? Remember when Tech drove a speeder really fast through a tunnel and we all fainted? I'M A TECH GIRLY. IT WAS ME! I FAINTED!!) but, Y'ALL, Echo deserves that right now!! And for all eternity!!! Because he is wholly submurged in the harrowing potential of torture and execution, and he didn't even bat an eye to put himself there. My awe of him is all-consuming, so please forgive me if this rant reads as nothing but incoherent screaming.

Echo haters (first of all, we can't be friends....) come on this journey with me! Let's back pedal to the beginning of the last episode (13). He stole an imperial shuttle. Let me repeat, he stole an imperial shuttle. And not just an attack shuttle. Not just a lil one-pilot transport. Bro somehow stole a Rho-class medical transport, which is very large, obscenely conspicuous, and very easily tracked. And, to use his own words, it was "the best he could do on short notice." The man stole a shuttle on short notice. ON SHORT NOTICE? HELLO, HOW DID HE DO THAT. WHY AIN'T WE LOSING OUR COOL ABOUT IT.

Next stop on this I-love-Echo journey through my mind: not only did he provide his brothers transportation in the complete void of their own (RIP havoc bb), but he also came equipped with intel and clearance codes, and, as Rampart stated, those things change DAILY. Echo somehow procured top secret imperial clearance codes, and a fkn SHIP, within hours of the Batch requesting his help. Not to mention, the ship had yet to be reported missing (which means it was only-freshly commandeered), and the clearance codes worked. Of course they did. Echo never fails. Never doubt Echo. "Echo's on it."

Choochoo, next stop! Once they arrived on that station orbiting Coruscant, and made their way to the control room (lookin sexy as heck in his armour-au-noir), he broke imperial encryption, hacked into the Imperial database, almost instantly found them the location of a ship departing for the prison that holds their daughter Tantiss, AND THEN DIDN'T EVEN HESITATE TO CLIMB ABOARD AND STOW AWAY.

He didn't even remotely have a plan, or have time to make a plan. He didn't know who or what else would be on board that mysterious vessel. He didn't know where it was going other than the name of the fkn mountain (which has proven to be nothing but unhelpful thus far). He just ARC-troopered his way through that crowded hangar, dodging aggressive astromech's and inconsiderate loader droids, shirking from the perspective eyes of highly trained commandos, and snuck his way onto a heavily guarded, extremely unknown science vessel. Then, of course, he wasted no time, hacking into the ships control system (may I gently remind- there were at least three pilots and an officer prepping the ship for jump and closely watching all aspects of its controls), disabling the proximity sensors without being detected, and then seamlessly covered the troopers absence by pretending to be him (which we all know is what should have happened on Serenno but... hindsight is 20/20.)

So... SO.... now we're at Episode 14. Here we at fkn terrified station because HULLO ECHO IS ALONE ON A SCIENCE DIVISION TRANSPORT; we have literally seen them carry around Zilo beasts in that shit. What the heck else could be on there that they don't know about? Literally anything. Because THEY KNEW NOTHING before attaching themselves to it. Echo knew NOTHING before sneaking onto that thing and creepin' around. Thank heck he didnt come across a fkn fresh wave of slither vines ok?

NEXT, Echo shoots (not stuns- lol) a sassy fkn droid (they had it coming, not sorry), then another trooper. AND THEN discovered his only option for departing the ship once it enters atmosphere is going completely undercover, because (in true "we improvise everything" CF99 fashion that gives me heart burn just thinking about it), they had zero fkn plan to get off the ship. I will repeat: completely undercover. On Tantiss. COMPLETELY UNDERCOVER ON TANTISS. NO COMMS, NO BACK UP, NO RECON, NO PLAN, BARELY ANY GEAR, and I would just like to stress... no neuro brace. He left his neurobrace on that ship. Left it. LEFT IT AND TOOK A HAND INSTEAD. PLEASE FKN SEDATE ME.

We can't leave this station yet... This I-love-Echo train needs to linger at this point for a sec because I think it's lost on some people how wild this is. Echo without his neurobrace is huge. It's a bigger deal than Echo without his armour. Armour is, in the grand scheme of things, inconsequential (one can find more- see Howzer). Echo's neurobrace is not armour, it's a computer and it's so so so crucial to how his mind processes information and events. Don't forget, the Technounion HIJACKED HIS BRAIN. They took every memory from him and manipulated it for their gain. Pruned it, tweaked it, blanched it, poached it, turned it into scrambled eggs, and then fkn ate it up and used it to defeat their enemies (Echo's family- I'm sobbing). They implanted him with an unfathomable amount of information; they changed the way the neurons in his brain fire in relation to stimuli. That neurobrace is so so critical for him. Now, we know he can operate well enough without it, we saw it in the last episode of the TBB arc in season 7 of Clone Wars, but... please.... to what extent? We don't know what an extended time without that neurobrace looks like for him... especially when all other aspects compliing his surroundings foreign, unknown, and dangerous, and that scares me.

AND NOW HE'S ABOUT TO RUN AMOK IN TANTISS with Emerie who, (I'm sorry) is wishy-washy as heck (who are you loyal to!!!!! What is your history!!! Are you trustworthy and what are you looking to gain!!!), trying to adopt a collection of Jedi children whove spent maker-knows how long playing space tetris, WHILST ALSO ATTEMPTING TO LOCATE AND ESCAPE WITH HIS BROTHERS UNDER THE EYE OF THE GALAXY'S SECOND MOST DANGEROUS MAN.

So yes, short of d-d-d-di... can't say it... short of THE WORST CASE, Echo has made the ultimate sacrifice to save not only Omega who is literally the only person we've seen able to make him truly laugh, but all the clone brothers that he's been desperately trying to locate and rescue. His bravery and determination are literally unrivalled, and he did it while feasting on nothing but humble pie because that man wouldn't know arrogance if it danced naked under his perfect nose.

Okay so welcome, we've finally pulled into I-Love-Echo station. Before departing the ride, please stand and do a hip hip hurray for the miracle that is Echo, including but not limited to, everything he's done, is doing, and is willing to do for other people.

#starqueensemotionalbreaksdowns lol #long post #the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #bad batch season 3 #bad batch spoilers #bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb season 3 spoilers #starqueensedits #tbb echo #echo tbb #bad batch echo #echo bad batch

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trulyhblue · 10 months ago

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Baby England (Part Two)

Lionesses x Young! Reader, Leah Williamson x Reader (platonic) Keira Walsh x Reader (platonic), Lucy Bronze x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: fluffy angst, mentions of blood/injury, coarse language.

Masterlist

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The Euros were flying past, and before you knew it, you were tapping your studs anxiously against the tunnel floor as you awaited the start of the Quarter Finals.

Every other game up until now had been different. You were promised a secure spot on the bench, assured the security of a safety sub during the last third of the game. You didn't receive the special treatment when you played. If anything, you were pushed harder by your opponents’ attempts to spike you out. You were young, younger than most of the women you played with and against, but you were there for a reason.

Sometimes you needed to be reminded that.

You were versing the Spanish Team. Contrary to many of your teammates, this was your first time playing them. Of course, you were aware of the individuals that you were playing against. You would be lying if you said you didn't idolize them. The mere idea of standing next to Mapi Leon and Aitana Bonmati was a frightening feeling. It was a bugging sensation filling your stomach. You tried searching the floor for any hope to calm your nerves, but the absence of serenity did nothing in response.

You weren't quite sure why Sarina had decided to put you in the starting eleven, especially in such a critical, knockout stage like today. The Euros were your first major tournament. When you told Leah the news, she wouldn't let you go from a bear-crushing hug until you wrenched her arms off you. She was reeling with excitement at the prospect of you standing alongside her in front of thousands of people. She couldn't contain her elation on the way to Falmer Stadium, and you tried to find the same emotions within yourself but the notion was proven difficult.

Hempo and Alex were giggling in a huddle as the team warmed up together. Leah was running laps with Beth. Rach and Millie were dribbling a ball with Ellen and Fran, and you were left stretching by the drink bottles, deep within your own thoughts.

You could see the Spanish girls across the field, eloping the growing crowd that littered the stands, all while split into groups as they carried out their respective warm-ups. You felt your hamstring tug while you ran you hands down your leg, tugging at your muscles so that they wouldn't tweak in the game.

The more time went by, with physios packing up their kits and subs heading over to the sideline, the more of a nervous wreck you became. You could feel the slight shake in your hands, the flood of adrenaline in your veins. Heart thumping out of your chest, beating in your ears, and bile rising in your throat.

This was your first time starting for your country. You had the impression that this was the one chance you could show not only Sarina, but all the media and fans that doubted your ability to set the tone for the game that you were capable of doing so. You wanted to make the first tackles, and produce opportunities. As a midfielder, you strived to cross the ball into the box for your strikers. Your job was to free the field of potential threats and switch between attacking and defensive plays depending on the style of your opponent.

You wanted everyone to know that you deserved to be in the starting eleven. You worked night and day, all the time, to make your dream come true. This was your life, your career, your journey.

The weight of this fell on your shoulders all at once in the tunnel as the narrow hallway blacked out most of the crowd’s roar. Everyone was in their own bubble, preparing themselves for the difficult match to come. Even as you walked out, eyes plastered on the floor, refusing to meet the eager euphoria of the crowd or anyone around you, the gravity of your situation began to set in.

You felt Leah kiss your forehead when walking past. The blush that painted your cheeks when you shook Mapi’s hand went straight through you. Nothing snapped you out of your haze. The crowd’s thundering booms fell beneath you, a level of determination fueling your insides as the whistle blew.

You ran up and down your line for nearly fifteen minutes before you finally gained possession of the ball. You were loosely marked by Guijarro beforehand, but as soon as the ball hit your feet, your legs were cut out from beneath you, leaving you tumbling face-first into the grass.

You were too high on adrenaline to feel the effects of the fall, but you felt fleeting hands sought your body when seeking to regain balance on your feet. There was a slight pang in your legs, but you quickly shook it off when offered a free kick.

“Should be a card, Ref.” One of your teammates quipped, holding your shoulders and pushing you on your way. The referee must've shooed her off too, since no acclimation changed and play resumed.

Both sides held possession well. You felt your confidence slowly increase at the endless support of the crowd. The flow of play made for excellent progress on your side of the midfield. You had curved a cross from the halfway line over to Hempo, but Ona Batlle had swiped it easily.

Georgia and Keira were absolute beasts, using their infinite knowledge to bound your team closer and closer to the goal. Spain was also moving quicker into your half as the game progressed, and the first half was coming to an end, you finally gained the opportunity to find space to shoot.

You were next to Beth, sprinting along the wing after Leah booted the ball to your end. The crowd boomed around you, your lungs gasping for air, your feet carrying you closer to the goal. Cardona was on you now, trailing your figure in the fleeting moments that felt like a lifetime.

Lauren was motioning for a crossover to her end, where no defenders thought themselves spent near. Paredes and Battle were spotting Ellen and Fran while Beth, Georgia and Keira were all making a worthy endeavour to free themselves.

Your heart raced as the wind whipped against your face, your hair whispering behind you in a tight, yet flimsy ponytail. No defenders were near the blonde. Ona and Paredes were stacking up against Ellen, while Carmona was battling Fran. Lauren was sprinting down the straight, her trajectory heading right into the box. Panos was urging her defenders back, but the communication between the two lines wasnt quick enough for your movements.

You made the move of switching the ball from your right foot to left, engulfing the fervour of the crowd as you did so. Blocking out any hesitancy, you kicked the ball as hard as you could, struggling to both watch your cross and keep straight at the same time. To your surprise, your connection with the ball made a successful thump, curving over the defenders and toward the direction of the blonde, who was almost in the box.

You watched with hope, every bone in your body ceasing up at the chance of scoring.

But before the outcome occurred, you felt your knees fall out, your legs crashing to the ground with a potent smack, leaving you winded and heaving for air. Your face made contact with the grass, your nose just skimming the ground as you made the sharp decision to move your head. For the second time that night, you heard the whistle blows to call the game to halt.

This time, however, you felt the potent emphasis of the strain on your body a lot more.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lucy’s thick accent came into range from above you, though you couldn't exactly see since your head was firm on the ground. Nothing hurtled incredibly badly, though you couldn't help but wince at the language falling from Lucy’s mouth.

While in a desperate attempt to pull yourself upwards, Keira came crouching beside you.

“Are you alright, Darling?” She asked, soothing a hand on your shoulders. Her eyes, both cautious and caring, bore into yours. You caught sight of Leah tugging Lucy away from the ref and Mapi, who was shown a yellow card.

You glanced up at the big display screens near the top of the stadium, watching in slight horror at the replay of Mapo taking you out from behind after the ball left your feet. It could've been a red card, arguably, but you were just glad you were still okay.

You told Keira so, thanking her when she pulled you up onto your feet. Lauren was watching from the other end, hauling thumps up your way, to which you promptly responded with a disappointed nod. You wished the ref had just left you on the ground because now you were going into the second half nil all.

You tried not to think about what could've been when sauntering back into the changing rooms. You were met with some encouragement. Leah was shouting all sorts of things to the team as they replenished and rejoiced for the next forty-five minutes. Rach and Millie were on either side of you, making an endeavour to be as loud and boisterous as they could in an attempt to rule everyone up. Lauren was by your side, taking prolonged sips from her water, patting you on the back throughout the break.

You watched all the girls intently while you changed your socks, tying your shoes with a double knot before following the rest of the girls out.

Before you jogged over to find your starting position, you felt someone spin you around gently.

“If that happens again,” Lucy spoke, Keira looking equally concerned by your side. “And you feel like it's too much, we want you to tell us.”

“I'm alright,” You reassured. You knew the pair believed you. This didn't soothe them, nonetheless. “I will, though. I promise.”

Before you could escape their prying eyes, Keira pulled you into a hug.

“You doing so well, Darling.” She muttered, patting your head. “Keep doing what you're doing.”

Both sides came out with a new taste of persistence. Everyone on the field was putting in ten times the effort from before. The anticipation from the crowd and determination in each of the girls’ mind combined to push the limits of the game to an all-new high.

Your hopes came crashing down when Spain’s striker, Gonzalez sent the ball through the back of the net. You threw your head back and groaned, moving your hands to cover your face. The celebration from the red rang out, their supporters in the stands properly dedicating their level of support. Your eyes met Leah, who was already marching back to her position. She gave you a civil nod. That was all. You knew she cared more for this than anything. This was the Euros.

That was enough motivation to keep going.

You tried to find more of a defensive end to your play going into the second half. Keira and Georgia were both creating chances down the line so you thought it best to keep the Spanish forwards on their toes by marking them instead of their defence.

Soon enough, Beth, Ellen, and Fran were all subbed off. You were surprised to find yourself still on the pitch. For some reason, your usual fatigue hadn't hit you yet, the endurance of beating your opponents still raw and fresh in your mind.

With Ella, Lessi and Chloe from now on, your assistance as a defensive midfielder was all the more prevalent. You made conscience tackles when needed. You pushed your opponents out of their zones, leaving them high and dry in different spots of the field. You were continuously feeding Chloe the ball from various passes, and even when some of them fell short, you made the effort to run back and do it again.

Spain must've noticed your team’s constant attacking push since strikers were being replaced for defenders, and roles were beginning to switch amidst the field.

Alex passed you the ball from between Garcia’s legs near the halfway line. You made no reluctance in sprinting down your line, taking no time in peeling the ball to your right in Chloe’s direction. The forward bolted into the centre, finding Lessi behind her. In a swift movement, Alessia found the ball at her feet, connecting a brilliant pass to Tooney.

Everyone on your backline held their breaths, awaiting the pause from Ella as she shot from where she received the ball. It went flying, flying forever, in what felt like a lifetime, before you heard the crowds rising to their feet in Revelation.

You held your arms up high, running towards the closest person, which happened to be Leah, and gripping her tight. She swung you round off the ground, yelling into your ear as the rest of your team celebrated around you.

You were one-all, you thought.

This was it.

When it went to extra time, you were almost certain you were due to be subbed off.

You had never played more than a half before. Going into over ninety minutes on the field, about to play another half hour, was daunting. You were starting to feel the dread of exhaustion pump into you when the extra time started. If you were to stay on until the end, and it was still one-all, it would go to penalties. You had only just made your Senior Debut, anyone would be stupid to think that you would ever oblige willingly to take one.

You stuck by your defensive line for the most part, only ever really leaving your back end of the midfield if you felt there was an opportunity to be given by the other end. You and Alex were pretty much feeding each other the ball if there was nothing else to give. The Spanish girls were growing impatient with it, and their relentless pushing and shoving indicated to the two of you that they were on the last thread.

You finally gave the ball to Millie, who gave it to Leah and returned back to you. For what felt like the hundredth time that game, you ran up your line, lugging the ball cautiously through the midfield. You sent a short pass to Ella, receiving the ball only a moment later. You shot past two of your opponents, glancing up to find none of your forwards free. You waited, fighting for possession for a while, before both Keira and Gee broke free from their markers. You chased them down, booting the ball to Keira.

Keira controlled the ball through the legs of Spain’s centre-back, hauling it along their backline before Gee found a space through the main slipstream. You held your breath, filling the air hitch around you in apprehension. Gee caught the ball, holding it for her side. The world seemed to stop, pause in time. You didn't remember seeing Georgia have a go at shooting, but the screams of the stadium were enough to send you tumbling towards her in a heap of sweat and tears.

You were the first to meet Georgia, jumping onto her back as the rest of your team fought themselves around her. Nothing else mattered to you at that moment, the feeling of absolute euphoria overriding any sort of anxiety you felt beforehand. All the girls were screaming, you were fighting tears. Everything was going your way, and you’d do anything to maintain it.

And that you did.

The rest of the game was defensive for you. You didn't even bother trying to connect any balls with the goal. You were too focused on any coming into your half. Lauren and Keira were subbed off, leaving no more subs available for the game. You played your heart out for the remaining time, counting down the clock for the final whistle.

When it blew, you fell to your knees.

You weren't sure if it was from the utter exhaustion of playing a hundred-and-twenty-minute game or merely because you were going through the realisation of winning. It was a surreal feeling, one you wouldn't shake for days. You stayed on the floor with your hands covering your face, hoping no one would catch the salty tears streaming down your red, tired face.

The Spaniards were all congratulating you by the end. You were quick to shake the apology Mapi Leon sent your way, blushing furiously at any sort of recognition from the defender. You ran into Leah’s arms, letting her ragdoll you around by swayying you back and forth.

“I'm so proud of you, my girl.” She muttered, kissing your forehead.

“Love you, Lee.” You simply replied, gripping her jersey tighter in your hands, relishing the moment with your eyes closed.

You were going to the Semi Finals.

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lionesses, yourusername (pretend its you)

*liked by keirawalsh, alexgreenwood and 43,256 others.

Lionesses — first full game starting AND player of the match. SAY THANK YOU BABY ENGLAND ❤️

Comments:

leahwilliamson — well deserved, beautiful girl 💗

^ yourusername — love you Lee ❤️

^ user1 — THEY ARE SO CUTE AWWWW

user2 — THANK YOU BABY ENGLAND YOU LITERALLY CARRIED US OMG

^ user3 — nah cause fr she deserved to play every minute of that game.

keirawalsh — our stargirl 💫

* liked by yourusername

georgiastanway — yeah the baby

^ yourusername — you can't call me a baby you're literally a few years older than me

^ Georgiastanway — YEAH THE BABY

arsenalacademy — congrats, baby england ❤️

^ user4 — you better start bidding for ur gurl or else she ain't gonna be yours

^ user5 — fr they think she won't leave but if a club wants to pay she’ll go where the money’s @

^ user6 — she wouldn't leave Leah. Period.

^ user7 — I doubt Leah would care where she goes, as long as shes happy.

ellatoone — lets goooooooooo

arsenalwfc — North London raised ‼️

______________________

soccerdrama

soccerdrama — after an absolute masterclass performance from Y/N L/N for the Lionesses against Spain this week, talks from multiple clubs have spurred.

These include;

- Arsenal

- Aston Villa

- North Carolina University

- Bayern Munich

- Manchester City

Where do you think she'll go?

Comments:

user1 — PLEASE SHE NEEDS TO STAY WITH LEAH ARSENAL ARSENAL ARSENAL

^ user2 — she suits nl so much

user4 — her and hemp are gold together. Would love to see them play for city together.

^ user5 — they've also git LUCY, keira, and Alex. City will be unstoppable with Y/N in it.

User8 — I still think she’ll go to UNC

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redfluffz · 6 months ago

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Queen, how did the Angels feel when they hit Lucifer, their basically brother, instead of Lily with the spears. And how long did it take lucifer to heal? And did Lilith feel guilty for him essentially taking the bullet for her? Sorry for the long ask!

Don't be sorry! I love answering all of your questions! ❤️✨️

And sorry for the long wait! I was thinking about how to answer this and here is what I came up with.

So I have a rough view on how the fall happened.

But first I want to answer your question shortly:

The others were scared and frightened, except for Mike - he was in rage.

Lily was frightened too. She thought he died. She was indeed blaming herself for it.

The wounds never healed fully and the pain faded slowly away. Luc had to endure so much.

Now ... how I structured the fall. Looong version. ✨️

First of all the cause of Luc fall isn't about his forbidden love. He had to deal with this problematic long before. Also Luc and Lily have different impeaches.

Luc is accused for his actions with the apple, but his punishment is just to go into exile. Where he can "think" about his actions and after a period of time, he can reenter heaven. So no spears, no death, no pain... just exile.

Lily instead is punished with death.

So Mike didn't give in to Lucifers beggings. The spears targeted Lily and Luc drags her away. And the only way out if this is the place where he is supposed to go. And so they fall with the spears following them.

But Luc protects Lily with his wings. That's why he isn't able to fly and crashing is inevitable. But Lily survives the fall and Mike is angered like never before.

So he tries to kill her again. But Luc is aware of the second attack and with his last angelic powers he teleports her away. And get fully hit by spears which are targeting him now. (Cause their originally target is gone).

And now I thought about the elevator which connects the seven rings. What if the hole/tunnel for the elevator was caused by Lucifer fall/crash through all of the seven rings?

Funfact. The angelic spears are using the angelic energy from Lucifer. They drain him. When he fall into one of Sloths seas...? He is contaminated with demon power. And that's how he got demonic magic and his beast form, cause he has no strength to fight this demonic magic. Hes just too injured.

When he draged himself out of this water, he starts searching for Lily, not aware that there are seven rings and she is still in Pride, while he is in Sloth. And he wanders around and suddenly stumbled across a small group of frightened little demons.

And that's how the sins met.

Funfact Leviathan will come later and they both already met each other.

So that's a "short" description how I picture the fall. Hope it all make sense.

Have a nice day!

And thanks for asking! ✨️

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel michael #answered #hellaverse #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel lucilith #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lilith #hazbin hotel lilith #lilith morningstar #hazbin hotel fallen angel

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loserlvrss · 10 months ago

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꒰ 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 ꒱ 김홍중

summary : your boyfriend gets jealous when you should be giving him your attention instead of his friends

genre : fluff, hongjoong x afab!reader, drabble, established relationship tws : jealousy, skinship, language, pet names author notes : for my anonymous requestor, i hope you liked it xx word count : 0.5k

you could tell. you could see it written on your boyfriends face. it was plain to see, yet you still brushed it under the rug and continued on the conversation with his close friends. but still, you could feel his gaze lingering on you. you could almost hear the broken sentences as his focus was spent on something else, as he attempted to play it off.

you, truthfully don't know why you found it slightly amusing. maybe it was because your boyfriend being jealous was a rare situation — simply because he knew you were solely his, and wouldn't even dream of it being different. you two have never had to worry about infidelity, and you knew right now was not the exception, so why did a couple of harmless words seem to upset him so much that he couldn't let you out of his sight for a moment; like if he did it would result in you disappearing.

you kept sending reassuring smiles when your eyes would meet across the studio, but still an uneasy and pouty look adorned his bright features. you always found him adorable, but with his lips turned down childishly it made you mirror them almost mockingly.

seonghwa and san had been talking to you about utter nonsense, while hongjoong tried his best to talk to the awkward yeosang at his side on the couch. you had sat in on the end of their recoding session, the missing members already off doing god knows what until dance practice would take place in an hour or so.

its like he had tunnel vision; eyes only for you; as he came over to the three of you gathered by the sound board. yeosang had left the room, and you almost wanted to laugh as you felt hongjoong’s hands creep around your waist.

seonghwa rolled his eyes, knowing your boyfriend almost as well as you did. pda wasn't something either of you were too fond of, but it didn't seem to matter in this moment, as his palms trailed over your sides and caged you against his chest. naturally, you gave in, slotting your fingers between his.

you gave the pair an almost desperate look when san excused them from your occupied presence. you laughed, but agreed nonetheless.

you waved, "see you later."

and when you were finally left alone with hongjoong, it's like the flood gates were opened. he picked you up, the sound proofing muffling your yelp in surprise from the passers in the hallway. he trudged over to the couch on the back wall, closest to the door, plopping you down onto the cushions gently.

he pouted above you, "weren't you here to see me, love?"

your arms opened, "of course, joong, i love you so much. you know this." and he climbed onto you, resting his head against your chest as he got comfortable.

his hands found your own, intertwining his fingers with yours, "of course i do." he laughed lightly, kissing your collarbone, "then why was i fighting for your attention?"

he pushed himself to be face level, attacking between protests with feather light kisses. you tried to dodge them, taking his cheeks within your palms to steady him, "why didn't you just ask?"

he stopped, looking directly into your eyes; it, honestly, made you feel a little small under the gaze. "that's all it would've taken?"

"of course," you finally pressed his lips to yours gently, "my main priority is always you."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— perm tag list .ᐟ send an ask to be added c:

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yanderes-galore · 7 months ago

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Hiii I’m the person who requested the yandere catnap where the reader try’s to escape but the mini smiling critters dragged them back before the can make it to the lift .

Sure, I think I remember this! This is dubious on if this is my version of Catnap or the one closer to canon. You can see it either way. I don't really go into depth on how you met, this is a chase scene essentially.

Playtime Isn't Over

Yandere! CatNap Oneshot (FT. Mini Critters)

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Blood, Stalking, Chase scene, Gassing/Drugging, Minor violence, Forced companionship.

Tons of tiny white eyes follow your form in the darkness. They know they shouldn't touch you, however. It's obvious you belong to their boss, CatNap. Touching you meant death.

The only thing you could hear in the halls of the Playhouse were giggles and squeals. They weren't from any human, you know better. The Playhouse was part of CatNap's domain. Your new prison.

The tiny critters were merely meant to watch over you like wardens.

They were guards, lesser creatures meant to make sure CatNap's new toy stayed in place. They stalked you from the darkness as your roamed the padded maze that is the Playhouse. Who knows where the exit was.

Wherever it was... you were determined to find it.

Skittering and squeaks echo in your ears as the small creatures scurry about. It was like they were rats, scavenging in order to survive. It was a tough life in these walls... which is why you're so determined to get out.

You assumed they wouldn't attack unless you left a certain radius. So far, the creatures only stared at you with slight curiosity and suspicion. You thought they'd leave you alone completely until you stepped on a weak floorboard.

When you crashed through the floor, the critters began to move closer.

Considering how they were now active, you assumed you had gotten close. The scurrying gets louder and the squeaks and squeals increase. You quickly dust yourself off and run through the halls.

It was clear that they knew of your escape attempts, the small plushies darting towards you. Some even manage to latch onto your legs before you shake them off and keep running. Both you and them are desperate.

Both you and them seem desperate to live and avoid CatNap... just in different ways.

You grunt as you shake off critters left and right. You desperately crawl through tunnels as you run, looking for any sort of exit. You just want out. You're terrified of CatNap's plans for you.

Your eyes light up when you see something that looks like a lift. There's a gap but you feel like you can make the leap. You grin, finally happy to leave this place.

Only for the critters to clamber onto your legs, knocking you down onto the padded ground.

You hiss when your body collides with the floor. The ruined living plushies squeak and hiss as they crawl over you. You fear they'll take you as food.

You try to shake the tiny feral beasts off you, but each time you tossed one another would take its place. You were stuck and pinned. You were just waiting for them to dig into your skin.

They didn't.

Instead you saw something come lurking from the shadows... something large.

"You're trying to leave, aren't you?"

The voice is deep and scratchy, making your blood run ice cold. You see the silhouette come closer, only to realize it's CatNap. The best has woken up from all the ruckus, only to stare at you covered in the smaller critters.

"You're quite clever... but not clever enough, my kitten." The large beast hisses, glaring at you with glowing white pupils. "If only you had a light, yeah? They hate the light...."

CatNap steps closer and the smaller critters scurry off into the shadows. CatNap then sits in front of you, tail slithering over to you to restrain you like a snake. The beast tilts his head, looking you over thoughtfully as you struggle.

"Such a troublemaker..." The monster sighs, watching as you glare back. "Troublemakers should be put to sleep."

"W-Wait, no, please-!" You try to bargain, but the cruel cat doesn't listen. Instead he leans closer with a permanent Cheshire grin and breathes out. A red mist flows out of his mouth, the scent smelling of lavender and flowers.

You hold your breath but CatNap restricts you with his tail. The tightness makes you gasp, the sudden breath just enough to make you quiver and faint. It's only when you pass out fully that CatNap lets you go.

Like a parent cat to their kitten, the beast picks you up by the back of your clothes and carries you in his mouth. The beast then makes a sound similar to that of a chuckle before dragging you back into the depths. You seemed to be getting better at these escape attempts.

But in the end, you'll always fall before CatNap...

You'll never leave Playcare under his watchful eye.

#yandere poppy playtime #yandere smiling critters #platonic yandere #yandere catnap

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lets-try-some-writing · 10 days ago

Text

Final Respects

Smokescreen was set to aid Optimus Prime in reviewing an abandoned Decepticon mine. He imagined it was largely going to be guard duty. Instead, he found his views of the dead challenged by his idol.

Previous Smokey related thing can be found here.

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"Optimus, what are we doing here?" Smokescreen walked a few feet behind his Prime, observing the abandoned battlefield quietly. The Decepticons had fled long ago, leaving behind only their useless mining excess and the bodies of the Vehicons who were killed in the fight for the mine less than an hour prior.

"We are here to offer the dead their final respects." The Prime answered quietly, almost solemnly. He didn't pause in his steps, instead marching through the rubble and into the mine to assess the damage. Smokescreen followed without question, his gaze falling upon the abandoned furnaces and strip mining tunnels just inside. The Decepticons weren't trying very hard to hide this particular operation.

"Why? They are Decepticons-" Smokescreen attempted to voice his concerns, but Optimus silenced him with a weary sigh and by halting his steps.

"Smokescreen, I lived before factions were even a murmur on the wind. Many of these soldiers were born into this role. They had no choice in the matter." The Prime gestured to the devestation, the bodies strewn in and out of the mine. Smokescreen followed his gaze, but he didn't find his spark swelling with any kind of pity. He saw the badges and the masks. They were Vehicons. Not Autobots or civilians.

"Still doesn't change the fact that they are enemies." He tried to state his objection to this whole mess, but Smokescreen found his voice came out weak and uncertain. Under Optimus's gaze, he felt like a sparkling being schooled after having stolen from a store.

"Neither does it disregard the fact that each and every one of these Vehicons were forged Cybertronian." There was a certain undertone of sterility to Optimus's glyphs that made Smokescreen want to vanish into the ground. But he managed to reset his vocalizer as he looked at all the bodies again. What was the point of it all? Why give funeral rites to enemy soldiers when energon was already scarce and they were so overworked?

"I don't get it. Why waste energy on Vehicons? I mean, I'd get it if they were alive, but they are obviously offline." Again, Optimus sighed. Smokescreen felt like even more of a discrace to his non-existent bloodline as he watched the Prime rub his face and then gesture between them both.

"If your comrade fell in battle, would you honor him?" The question hung in the air mockingly for a moment. Smokescreen took the chance to contemplate whether or not it was meant to be a trick question as he nodded.

"Of course. Autobots stick together, especially a soldier who goes down for the cause." Touching his badge, Smokescreen showed it off with an expression of uncertainty. Optimus remained as composed as ever as he fired back with another inquiry.

"What about a civilian? A neutral caught in the crossfire." Smokescreen hesitated a bit longer with his response. He was not liking where this line of questioning was going.

"Sure, I mean they didn't do anything wrong." He almost grumbled but fought back the response as Optimus's optics cycled, as if preparing to land the killing blow. In their verbal spar, he might as well have been as he again gestured to the dead around them.

"Then what sets a Decepticon apart from an Autobot or a neutral? Why are they unworthy of a funeral?" There it was. Smokescreen actively winced as he found his worldview attacked. His drill sargent always said to see the enemy before the mech. It would make shooting them down easier.

It wasn't exactly fun to have to consider things from a moral perspective.

"They are the enemy. It's not a good use of resources to give them funeral rites." Not really wanting to deal with the emotions involved in dealing with the dead, Smokescreen opted for logic. Optimus, however, didn't seem very inclined toward it as he knelt beside the nearest Vehicon, removing the mech's mask to show a face frozen in terror.

Smokescreen was unable to stop himself from grimacing.

"I understand that being raised in a time of war has made seeing our people as one unit effectively impossible. But I would implore you to look beyond the badges of your fellows." Optimus reached out, tenderly closing the optics of the dead mech before carrying it over to the nearest furnace and laying the Vehicon's body inside.

"They have faces." He picked up more bodies, always taking care to remove the mask in order to assess each and every face. Some were relatively peaceful, as if they'd expected their end. Others were forever stuck in a state of horror or pain. A few select ones even seemed sad, with dried tearstains on their faces. Optimus wiped the marks away from those fallen bots, his expression solemn but not unkind.

Smokescreen felt sick to his tanks.

"They have names." As if to rub rust in the wound, Optimus held up a Vehicon's arm before he gathered up the body. Smokescreen was met with the sight of numbers burned into the mech's very plating, a designation in a sense. He couldn't help how his spark clenched in its chamber at the sight. They weren't proper names, but these mechs still had something.

"They have sparks." Optimus gathered up more of the bodies, showing the ones with torn chassis plating so reveal their cold and lightless spark chambers. It really shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did. But seeing the dead be so empty… it made something instinctual in Smokescreen recoil.

"Look at them and tell me once more that they do not deserve to be given their final rites." Optimus's voice rang out as he continued to move bodies into the furnace, his tone neither harsh nor particularly soothing. He was teaching Smokescreen a lesson, one which he was not enjoying all that much.

"They carry scars just like we do." Optimus held a body in his arms, one mutilated from battle and the explosion that killed them. Smokescreen's devotion to his viewpoint faded futher and further with every motion the Prime made.

"They had wants and wishes just like every other living being." As the last body was loaded into the furnace, Optimus came up and clasped Smokescreen's shoulder, breaking him from his reverie. He should have been helping… and yet here he was. Rethinking life or something like that.

"No matter which side they stand on, they deserve to be laid to rest. If only to honor the lives they could have lived if they were not cut short." With that, Optimus moved away to start a fire. Smokescreen wasn't paying much attention to the whole affair. His focus was on Optimus and the machinery he was forcing back into functionality to get the fires burning.

"Why'd you pick me to help with this?" He found himself murmuring as the flames began to rise up, covering the bodies in the furnace. He wasn't doing much on the helping front, but he couldn't help but wonder why he was shown this at all. Logically, he assumed it was for the sake of learning a lesson. But why bother? He was just a rookie.

"Because you are the only one who has not yet seen the horrors of war as we have. I wanted to teach you to honor your enemy before you grew too bitter to see them as kin." Optimus moved away from the furnace to stand by Smokescreen's side. They both watched the bodies start to melt under the intense heat, metal and internal components turning into liquid that would soon be mostly useless to any organic who came across it. Without protomatter or energon, cybertronian steel was only somewhat stronger than human metals.

The dead would not be able to be used as a weapon.

"Records from the archive said that traditional rites would have the dead be turned back into parts for the living, or used as sentio metallico for a newbuild." Smokescreen spoke up softly, voicing the old information that came to the front of his memory banks. Optimus hummed beside him, his optics trained on the flames.

"Normally, that would be the case." Looking up at him, the Prime seemed so very tired. His optics held depth that was impossible to fully comprehend, but within the haze of age old knowledge, there was what Smokescreen could only assume was grief. How Optimus managed to care for so many mecha after so long being embroiled in war was behind him.

"But on this foreign world, in a place so far from our home… it is safer to destroy that which we cannot salvage. That way, no others may use the bodies of our dead to create more devestation." Optimus's response was not heavy, although there was a not of regret in his tone. Somehow, it made Smokescreen's spark pang in sorrow. He couldn't imagine being left as a pile of slag on a foriegn world, forgotten to everyone.

"That's… really sad. It almost feels wrong to just have them all burned up like this." Every part of his training screamed at him, demanding Smokescreen return to the mind of a soldier and witness his foes for what they were. But seeing the bodies burn? He just… couldn't do it. It was not an honorable end. Burned up into liquid metal and left to clump and become soiled on a world that was not their own.

It wasn't right.

"And now you see the worth of a life, Smokescreen." Optimus's voice was little more than a murmur, but Smokescreen caught it anyway. He said nothing else as they watched the flames, waiting until everything was fully melted before dousing the flames. Once they were done, they exited the mine, at which point Optimus shot at the entrance until it collapsed.

Smokescreen winced as dust and rubble rushed past him, but again, he said nothing. What a sad way to die. A mere number, then abandoned in a slagging mine of all places. As much as it bothered him to admit it… not even Decepticon deserved to be forgotten.

"We honor our dead as best as we can, but in the end, we are still at war." Optimus's servo fell upon his shoulder, heavy and comforting all at once. Smokescreen could faintly hear the ground bridge opening behind them, but he couldn't help but stare at the collapsed mine for a little while longer. Part of him wondered, distantly, what the world would have looked like if there hadn't been a war. Would he have known any of those Vehicons?

Slag, Optimus had a way of making him rethink his entire life's purpose.

"Guard the living, remember the dead. Honor the fallen, and fight in their names. That is all we can do to ensure we do not lose ourselves in the haze of eternal conflict." The Prime's commentary was grim, but it was not without wisdom. Smokescreen could only sigh in response, his vents fluttering as he watched for a moment, and then turned to follow Optimus back through the ground bridge.

No one deserved to be forgotten.

Not even enemies.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #smokescreen #vehicons #short fanfic #go smokey go #get you some morals

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sidekick-hero · 10 months ago

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He runs for his life, his paws hitting the snowy ground with heavy thumps. His flank hurts where the bullet buried itself, but it's distant, drowned out by his instinct to survive. He can't afford to slow down, so he pushes through, letting his instincts carry him as fast as his legs will take him.

His pursuers are only human, not equipped to keep up with a nearly grown wolf. But he's hurt, and he's exhausted, and they have guns.

Part of him wonders why he's even trying to save himself.

They killed the whole village. His parents, his friends, his neighbors. They all burned to death, and those who managed to escape the flames were slaughtered by the hunters. All except him, who managed to escape through the secret tunnels beneath their home, while his parents stayed behind to fight off the invaders.

The Harringtons had been the alphas of their pack, and it was their responsibility to protect the pack with their lives.

None of them deserved to die. No one in their pack had ever hurt a human. They hardly ever saw one, choosing to live as far away from their settlements as possible while still being able to trade with them for the goods they couldn't produce.

It didn't matter to the hunters who came late at night and ambushed them in their sleep. In their eyes, they were monsters. His parents always warned him that humans would never understand them, would always fear them, and fear breeds hatred. Humans couldn't be trusted, they weren't safe.

Back when that meant he couldn't be friends with the daughter of the blacksmith his parents did business with, he refused to believe them. But now it seems that they were always right.

Humans are not to be trusted. They're not safe.

It feels like Steve has been running for hours and still he hears them following him, following his bloody trail. They're not even stealthy, branches snapping, shouts and the occasional gunshot. He's not sure how much longer he can keep going, the pain and exhaustion finally catching up with him.

He's so focused on listening to the hunters behind him that he doesn't really look where he's going, just runs and runs and runs.

Suddenly the world turns upside down, the pain in his flank flares up, white-hot, and then everything goes dark.

He comes to slowly, his senses catching up with reality one by one.

It's warm where he lies, the sharp smell of burning wood heavy in the air. Panic rises in his throat and he can't stop the whine falling from his muzzle, it must mean he didn't make it out after all, he's still trapped in the burning ruins of his home. He's going to die here, burned alive like everyone else he's known since he was a pup.

His ears pick up other sounds over the crackling of a nearby fire. Someone is here, Steve can smell them. Smell him. It's a human, a man. His scent is strong, clinging to the soft blanket Steve can feel beneath him. He's humming a familiar tune, his voice deep and melodic, and Steve can't believe he's about to die with the tune of a nursery rhyme stuck in his head.

Heavy footsteps are coming toward him, and Steve hasn't opened his eyes yet, but he thinks the guy is wearing heavy boots. It's winter, after all, and humans don't run as hot as wolves, completely unprotected from the harshness of the season.

His whole body aches, every limb is heavy, and exhaustion is trying to drag him under again. Steve knows he's in no condition to fight, that he won't last more than a few seconds before the human kills him, but he won't die without a fight. That's not who he is.

So when he feels the human stop in front of him and fall to his knees beside Steve's motionless body, Steve attacks.

Well, he tries. But his body won't cooperate, the pain makes him so dizzy that he almost loses consciousness as he tries to rise enough to sink his teeth into the human's soft flesh. He sinks back down, with pained whimpers he tries to suppress but can't.

"Shh, hey, it's okay, buddy. I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise. I'm trying to help you, but you are gonna have to stay still and let me, okay?"

It doesn't make any sense, none of it, but he's so tired and the voice talking to him sounds so nice, warm and soothing. It makes him want to lie still and let it wash over him. With the last of his strength, he blinks his eyes open to look at the man who is about to end his life, no matter what his alluring voice promises.

The last thing Steve sees before the pain and exhaustion pulls him back under are the man's eyes. They were a rich, dark brown, like melted chocolate under a gentle heat. Their warmth held a soft depth, inviting and comforting, reminiscent of a cozy fireplace on a chilly evening. With each gaze, it was as if the soft flicker of candlelight danced within them, creating an aura of quiet reassurance.

The next time Steve is awake, he feels better. He's still weak, but the bone-deep exhaustion has eased. So has the pain, a dull ache rather than a white-hot agony that sets his nerves on fire. As he comes more and more to himself, his brain clearing the haze of sleep, he takes stock.

He's still alive.

He's still surrounded by the scent of the man who found him.

He's comfortable, a soft surface and blankets beneath him.

He's starving.

As if he heard Steve's thoughts - or more likely his growling stomach - Steve hears the man approaching again. Opening his eyes blearily, Steve sees him standing in the doorway with a plate in his hand, and the smell that hits Steve's nose makes his empty stomach cramp with hunger, and saliva floods his mouth. Roasted chicken, Steve's favorite.

"Look who's awake," the man says, and Steve wonders if he knows who Steve is or if he's one of those guys who talks to animals. He really hopes it's the latter, because that makes his chances of survival at least a little better.

The man takes another two steps towards him, but then stops and looks at him cautiously.

"Okay, last time didn't go so well, huh?" He asks, but Steve thinks it's more rhetorical. "I've got food for you, so please don't bite me? God, it's a good thing Wayne isn't here or he'd think I'd finally lost it, talking to a wolf."

Shaking his head, the man comes closer and Steve takes in his appearance. He doesn't look particularly dangerous, rather slender with dark curls and a pale complexion. He doesn't carry any weapons, but he does have an ugly scar on his face. It must have been a deep cut, and it runs in a jagged line across his cheek.

Steve tries to lift his head when the man is close enough to strike, but he only manages a few inches before sinking back down with a soft whine.

"Hey, hey, hey, you shouldn't move yet, sweetheart. It's a miracle nothing's broken, as far as I can tell, but that bullet really did a number on you, almost like it was poisoned. Bastards to do this to another being."

Silver bullet, Steve thinks. That explains the intense pain and weakness.

Then he forgets all about it the moment the smell of the chicken intensifies as the man reaches out to Steve's muzzle with a large chunk of meat between his fingers. The man, if you can call him that, probably about Steve's age, looks terrified as he does so, but he doesn't stop until Steve can close his teeth around the meat and pull it into his mouth. When the meat is gone, Steve chewing happily and the guy still in possession of all five fingers, his host breathes a sigh of relief.

"Shit, man, that was scary," the man laughs, his dimples popping. He beams at Steve as he hands him another large chunk of chicken.

This human is so weird, Steve thinks. Talking to a wolf like it's a human, chastising hunters for wounding it with what he thinks is a poisoned bullet. Feeding it its own rations by hand, during a harsh winter, no less.

Whatever plan is behind this: Steve doesn't understand it. But he's too weak to think much about it, because as soon as the plate is empty and his stomach comfortably full, Steve sinks back under.

He dreams of soft hands stroking his fur, and of someone softly singing to him the lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was a pup and woke up from a nightmare.

It becomes routine as Steve's body fights off the effects of the silver bullet.

The man, whose name was Eddie, as Steve learned during one of the many times he was sort of talking to himself, fed him meat by hand, and sometimes broth and potatoes. Every two days he would also dress his wound, always clicking his tongue at the state of it and muttering about asshole hunters.

Eddie always talked while tending to Steve, at first telling him how his body was healing and what Eddie was doing to help him. But after a while, he began to tell Steve about his days and his chores, regaling Steve with tales of his adventures while gathering firewood or preparing meals for them. It was surprisingly comforting to listen to Eddie talk, his stories always funny and dramatic, with a hint of self-deprecation.

It didn't make sense to Steve why Eddie was doing all this until one night he started talking about his uncle, who had gone to the city to find work to better support them and hadn't been home in months.

It was then that Steve realized that Eddie was lonely.

He'd been alone in that cabin in the middle of the woods for months until he found Steve lying in a ravine and carried him home.

Steve was the closest thing Eddie had to a companion in months.

Knowing that eased some of the apprehension he felt toward Eddie, because it seemed that as long as the man didn't know that Steve wasn't an ordinary wolf, he didn't have to be afraid of him.

Three weeks after Steve first woke up in Eddie's cabin, he manages to get up on weak legs and take a few tentative steps before collapsing again.

Eddie is there to catch him and by then his hands are welcome on Steve's body.

They are always gentle with Steve, stroking his fur and snout, scratching behind his ears just right. Eddie touches him all the time now, and Steve has no idea how he feels about it.

That's not entirely true, he has an inkling of what the warmth means that spreads through his body when Eddie lies down behind him on the mattress he'd put in front of the fireplace so Steve would be warm while he healed. Every night, Eddie would bury his face in Steve's fur right at his neck, a vulnerable place only close members of a pack were ever allowed to put their snouts, and stroke Steve's side and belly with gentle hands until they both drifted off to sleep.

Everything smelled of Eddie. Steve smelled of Eddie.

And Eddie had begun to smell of Steve.

It made his inner wolf purr with satisfaction, and that was such a phenomenally bad idea.

That's why Steve is trying to get back on his feet as quickly as possible, so he can leave before these feelings that have started to grow in his heart get any worse.

Eddie is human.

Humans are not to be trusted. They are not safe.

But Eddie feels safe.

Worse, he is starting to feel a lot like mate, and Eddie has no idea what that even means.

"Careful, Koda. You're still healing. There's no rush, y'know. You can stay here as long as you want, okay? This is your home now, too."

Steve whines softly at the ache in Eddie's voice and licks his neck and face to comfort him. The wet tongue probably tickles because it makes Eddie laugh, and he buries his face in the thick fur at the front of Steve's neck.

And Steve just lets him, lets him press his mouth against his throat while he nuzzles behind Eddie's ear and breathes in his scent.

Steve is fucked.

It all comes to a head a few weeks later.

Steve is now back on his feet and uses his new mobility to follow Eddie around and keep him company while he does his chores, often dozing next to him while he cooks or chops wood or sorts through their rapidly dwindling supplies. Soon Eddie will have to go hunting to keep them stocked with meat, and Eddie hates the thought. He doesn't want to hurt another creature.

That's why Steve decides to go hunting for his human. He can provide for him.

A week later, he leaves in the middle of the night, carefully slipping out of Eddie's arms around him and trotting through the little door that Eddie built into his door so that Steve could relieve himself whenever he needed to.

It goes better than Steve expected, his muscles still not back to where they used to be, but stronger and faster than he would have thought after weeks of lying around. He follows the tracks of a deer for almost an hour before he finally finds it. The hunt itself is short, the wind comes from the right direction, and the deer clearly doesn't sense him until it's too late.

Steve kills it as quickly and painlessly as possible, sure that Eddie would want him to. He thinks he would do anything to make Eddie happy.

When Steve comes back from the woods, he's dragging the deer's body with his snout, wishing he could just shift back into his human body because it would be so much easier with his hands. But the shift takes a lot out of an already weakened body, and he can't risk it. In a few weeks it will be as easy as breathing again, he's sure of that, but right now it could be a serious setback in his recovery.

He can already see the cabin through the trees when he hears Eddie's voice calling for him. He sounds panicked and Steve immediately drops his prey to run to his mate.

Eddie is not even wearing a jacket, his breath coming out in clouds of condensed air as he stumbles through the glittering snow, calling for Koda.

He calls for his wolf with panicked tears in his voice and Steve barrels into him without a second's hesitation. Eddie falls to the ground, his arms full of Steve, his hands clutching Steve's fur as if he's afraid this is a dream and Steve will disappear again.

"Koda? Oh my God, where the hell have you been? I was worried sick. I thought you just disappeared." Eddie sits up, his arms never letting go of where they are wrapped around Steve, and Steve can smell the tears on his face. He carefully licks them away as more and more follow. "Please don't leave me, please, please, please," Eddie keeps begging him, his whole body shaking and Steve wants to shift so badly. He wants to take his mate in his arms and hold him, soothe his pain and fear and promise him that he'll never leave him.

So even though he knows better, he does.

One moment Eddie is holding a big, brown wolf in his arms, and the next he is holding a very human, very naked man in his lap.

If Steve wasn't scared to death of how Eddie will react, he would laugh at the high-pitched squeal Eddie lets out when he realizes what has happened.

"Hi," Steve says, waving at Eddie with fluttering fingers. Not his smoothest moment, but to be fair, this isn't how he usually approaches someone he's attracted to. For once he is usually wearing a lot more clothes.

"Uhhh, hi?" Eddie asks, stunned. "Who... Wait, not important right now. Where is my wolf? My Koda. I just got him back."

Steve is pretty sure that Eddie must be in shock and not thinking clearly, but it warms his heart how attached he is to Steve's wolf. He hopes he can get him to like his human side just as much.

Deciding it's best to just come clean with Eddie, Steve exclaims, "Tada," and does a very silly imitation of jazz hands.

Eddie just blinks at him with big eyes.

Okay, Plan B it is, Steve thinks. "I'm him. I'm Koda. Or, well, no, I'm Steve, but you couldn't know that. But, um, yeah, I'm your wolf?" Steve cringes at the your, but it's too late to take it back, and besides, he really wants to be Eddie's wolf.

He wants to be Eddie's everything.

"I knew it!"

Eddie's sudden outburst startles Steve so much that he almost falls off Eddie's lap before Eddie's arms tighten around him.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just... my mom told me about wolves that could turn into humans. She used to tell me stories about how they used to be the protectors of villages and towns, the friends and companions of humans, before some humans turned against them, jealous of the admiration and status they had with the villagers, and drove them away. Mama said that when a wolf chooses you as a mate, you are blessed for life. She always wanted to meet one of you."

Steve knows about Eddie's mother, another story he told Steve under the protective cover of night as they lay on their mattress, Steve's fur soaking up Eddie's tears as he talked about losing his mother when he was only ten.

"Aren't you afraid of me?" Steve still has to ask, his heart beating as fast as the wings of a bird taking flight.

Eddie looks at him as if the thought had never occurred to him. "Afraid of you? Koda... I mean, Stevie, can I call you Stevie?" at Steve's nod Eddie continues, "Are you going to hurt me?"

Now it's Steve's turn to look at Eddie in disbelief. "What? No! Never! Eddie, I promise I would never hurt you. I just thought that you..."

"That I would hurt you if I found out what you are?" Eddie asks quietly, his thumb stroking Steve's collarbone.

"Yes," Steve admits in a low voice. "But not anymore."

"No?" He sounds so hopeful when he asks this, so trusting in the way he holds Steve in his arms, even after learning of Steve's true nature. Steve smiles down at the man who saved him, who tended to him, who cared for him.

His human.

His mate, if Eddie will let him. Steve thinks he might.

"No, I feel safe with you."

Eddie's answering smile is blinding, and Steve has to kiss him, right here in the snow, sitting buck naked in Eddie's lap, the morning sun bathing them in its hopeful light.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #werewolf steve harrington #human eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #day 10 #love is feeling safe #my writing

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lafaiette · 1 month ago

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Based on this post by @wendynerdwrites: Solas treating everyone at the Lighthouse except Varric like complete morons, but becoming a puppy as soon as Lavellan shows up.

Spoilers for Veilguard!

Davrin was used to facing dangerous situations - the life of a Warden was not an easy one -, but no fight against darkspawn, no exploration of dark, damp roads could compare to the horror of sharing a place with the worst enemy of his people's lore.

Solas, the Dread Wolf, was... a cold man. No unnecessarily cruel like old Dalish legends described him, but certainly ruthless, ready to make sacrifices if it could help finally defeat the Evanuris.

There was a certain distance in his eyes and tone whenever he spoke with the new guests of his old base - that, and badly hidden rage, boiling just below the surface. He was haunted by the failed ritual, by Rook's intervention, by Varric's wound, by years of regrets.

Davrin's superiors had always insisted on a particular point: don't fight battles you can't win. Giant ogre making its way through a narrow tunnel? Run, or you will die under the rubble. Too many darkspawn surrounding you and your fellow Grey Wardens? Retreat, and plan a better strategy.

The Dread Wolf haunts your dreams, turning them into nightmares? Be respectful, da'len, do not enrage him further, and avoid him.

So Davrin did just that. He greeted Solas, but didn't dare ask him questions. He wasn't scared of speaking up in his presence, but he did so with an even tone, not really wanting to attract his attention.

Unfortunately, his being a Grey Warden was something Solas simply couldn't understand - or forgive? -, for the Dread Wolf once found him in the courtyard, taking care of Assan's feathers, and spoke to him without hesitation, without mercy.

"That is a beautiful creature."

Assan chirped happily - he was one of the few ones in the Lighthouse, Varric and Manfred included, who wasn't scared of Fen'Harel.

"Ah, thank you." Davrin nodded at him, then went back to brushing the griffon's feathers. "He's growing up so fast."

A moment of silence, then Solas spoke again, a thin veil of ice in his voice:

"I could not help but notice he fights with you."

"Well... Yes?" Davrin didn't turn back, increasing his focus on the least oily feathers, the ones that needed more care. "Grey Wardens and griffons fight together. We're supposed to build a bond."

"Why would you bring your beloved companion into battle?" Solas sounded furious, now. "Among the Blight and the darkspawn?"

"Because that's what Grey Wardens must do." Davrin did turn around this time, hoping his glare directed at Solas wouldn't condemn him to a week of nightmares. "It's not like Assan fights at my side for the whole time. He flies above the battlefield, and attacks only when I call him."

"Because he is still young. But he will join you once he is older, and ready, and your bond strong." Solas shook his head, distaste clear on his face. "And then he will risk getting blighted, poison in his veins."

"It's terrible, I know," Davrin agreed, for the thought of losing his friend in battle had kept him awake many nights in a row, "but it's a risk we must run if we want to fight the darkspawn."

"Did you ask Assan if he wants to run this risk?" Solas arched an eyebrow. "Or did you decide for him?"

"What-"

Solas walked away, uttering a "tsk", and Davrin was left there, open-mouthed, shock and pain making his head buzz.

Assan let out a sad squeak, bumping his beak against his cheek.

--------

"You are doing it wrong."

"O-Oh?"

Bellara turned around, the elven device she was tinkering with falling on the ground. Solas, standing under the doorframe, looked at it, then at her, and she shrinked under his cold, almost disappointed gaze.

"What... What I was doing wrong?"

Oh, she hated how thin her voice sounded, but she couldn't help it! He was one of her gods! The deity of lies, trickery, and rebellion, the creator of the Veil, the reason why a breach in the Fade had appeared in the sky ten years prior! He scared her!

"Everything." Solas narrowed his eyes, then walked away, heading to his original destination, leaving her there, fuming and confused, angry at him and herself, angry at the device and its secrets, angry at her mind for not being able to understand them.

She picked it up from the floor, but didn't tinker with it again, leaving it on the table, like a forgotten relic.

--------

Harding gently closed the door of Varric's room, so that he wouldn't wake. The wound was getting better, but he was still weak, frail. His fever had broken just the day before.

She almost jumped out of her skin when Solas walked out from the shadows just around the corner - seriously, wasn't a lighthouse supposed to be well-lit?

"How is he?" he asked, almost whispering, dark sorrow on his face.

Harding glared at him, torn between telling him to shove it and answering in a civil way.

In the end, her polite side won, prompted by the memories of their days in the Inquisition, when Solas would accompany the Inquisitor in all her trips and explorations.

He would often narrate beautiful stories at dinner, when the Inquisitor decided to stop at the main campsites where Harding was stationed. He was always kind with the Inquisition soldiers, and once he had complimented Harding's study of a map.

But he had hurt the Inquisitor, and now Varric, and she found forgiveness hard to find in her frightened, enraged heart.

"He's alive." She shook her head. "He's sleeping now, so come visit him later."

"And the wound?"

"It's healing, but I don't like the look of the skin around it. It's getting inflamed, I think." She sighed, making a mental list of all the plants in her room. "I might have something to help him, but I'll need to check and-"

"My magic may help."

Her rude side won over the polite one. Oh, how her mother would scold her if she knew.

"Your magic? I'm sorry, but your magic is what caused all this in the first place!"

She approached him, teeth gritted, fists clenched, and he didn't move, staring down at her with that cold pain that morphed his face into a pale, ancient expanse of regret.

"Your magic almost destroyed the world ten years ago! Your magic almost destroyed it now! Your magic maimed the Inquisitor-"

Something passed over his face - more pain and sorrow -, and she realized she had gone too far, for his next words were too controlled, too calm. He was about to explode just like she had.

"Enough, child of the Stone."

"How dare you!"

All the pain, fear, and shock Harding had packed away in her heart - like many jagged rocks she wanted pick and examine in peace in the quiet of the room - erupted from her. Her eyes burned.

"How dare you call me like that, after what my people lost!"

"Your people are not the only ones who lost everything."

"Well, at least we're not the ones trying to destroy this world to bring it all back!"

She stormed away, hoping her outburst hadn't caused Varric to awaken.

--------

"He's here!"

"What?"

Lucanis looked up from the pot of soup he was preparing for lunch, and lo and behold, the Dread Wolf was indeed there.

Spite respected him and feared him in equal measure. He was the only one who could speak with the demon in a real, coherent way, and make it listen.

Sometimes Lucanis envied him.

"May I help you?" he said, stirring the pot after adding more salt. "It won't be ready for one more hour, I think."

"Spirit, how are you feeling?"

"It's not a spirit." Lucanis spat out before Spite could answer. It was standing next to him, not slouching as usual, but standing tall, almost proud. "It's a demon."

"That's a matter of debate."

"A matter of- it's possessing me!"

"It does not wish to be with you just as much as you do not want it with you." Solas glared at him, before setting his eyes on Spite again. His expression changed, turning kinder, more patient.

"How are you feeling?"

"... Constricted."

Lucanis gawked at it.

"Oh, for... Constricted by what? I bring you everywhere!"

Solas ignored him. "Have you tried shaping the world around you? We are in the Fade here, after all."

"I have, but it doesn't listen! Not as long as I am..."

Spite growled and glared at Lucanis, who glared back, stirring his minestrone with more rage the recipe requested.

"I see. I promise I will try to find a way to help you. It might be difficult, due to your particular circumstances, but..."

"You want to help it?" Lucanis dropped the spoon into the pot, staring at the tall elf with disbelief. "Do you know what this fiend did to me while we were locked away in Renata's prison? What about helping me get rid of it?"

"It tortured you because it was tortured. It still is."

Solas' eyes looked cold even under the light coming from the fireplace. Lucanis realized he would probably never convince him, nor understand him.

"Bah!" He went back to his dish. "No wonder nobody here likes you, lupo."

Solas went away, quiet, his steps the lightest Lucanis had ever heard.

--------

"You remind me of an old friend."

Taash looked up from the axe they were polishing, hoping they had heard it wrong.

Solas was checking some supplies. They hadn't exchanged a single word when he had entered, and Taash was glad of it, because they really didn't know how to act around that guy. Plus, their mood wasn't exactly the best these days, after a hard defeat against a particularly stubborn dragon that had badly burned their leg.

But now, this.

"How old, exactly? Millennia old? Decade old?"

"Decade. Do you know the Bull's Chargers?"

"I heard of 'em. Mercenary group led by the Tal-Vashoth who joined the Inquisition, yeah?"

Solas nodded, still checking the contents of an armory chest.

"So... I remind you of that guy?"

"Sometimes, yes."

Taash blinked. And waited.

"Why? Just because we're both Tal-Vashoth?"

"No." Solas barely looked at them as he closed the chest. "He also deeply admired dragons."

"Oh. Sounds like a cool guy, then." Taash grinned, dipping the cloth into a pot of oil and starting to polish a new area of their axe. "I bet he'd have enjoyed fighting that dragon from the other day."

"Oh, yes. But unlike you, he would have definitely prevailed."

"Why, you little piece of shit!"

They rose, furious and embarrassed, cheeks on fire and axe ready to be used, but he had already left.

--------

"What is that supposed to be?"

Neve almost dropped her pencil.

"A map?" She narrowed her eyes at him. She had tracked him down in Minrathous, yes, but he had still escaped her, in a certain way. She hated that.

"Of course it is a map." Solas' tone was as icy as hers. He knew it was her fault Varric and Rook had found him. "But what are you drawing on it?"

"Possible places where the Evanuris may be hiding."

"Hiding?" He snarled, letting out a disgusted noise. "They are not hiding. They are preparing, setting the stage, gathering power-"

"One more reason to find them as soon as possible, then."

"-And those are not the places they would choose for such a purpose."

Neve felt her right eye twitch.

"Well, since you know them so well," Solas' face turned into a mask of pure outrage at that, "perhaps you could kindly share your opinion so that we may find them sooner."

"How am I supposed to know? Don't you think I would have already done something, had I known where they are?"

He scoffed at her meticulous drawings and walked away. She gritted her teeth, frustrated, then looked back at the map, feeling almost embarrassed.

She refused to erase her marks, though.

--------

Emmrich believed himself to be a patient man, but oh, every time the Dread Wolf was involved he could just feel his patience run thin.

"Manfred, could you please hand me that book? Thank you."

A groan, rattling of bones, and Emmrich smiled.

"Indeed, it is quite interesting. I will give it back to you as soon as I'm done with these notes."

He heard footsteps coming from the staircase, but he ignored them, too engrossed in his research. He heard Manfred prepare more tea, sure it was one of their friends come to visit, but then...

"This is wrong."

Startled, Emmric raised his eyes. Solas was looking at Manfred, watching him choose the right leaves.

"I assure you, Manfred's tea knows no equal. Everyone in the Mourn Watch loves it!"

Solas glared at him, jaw tight, and the very air around him seemed to quiver. Emmrich realized he had said the wrong thing, and slightly bowed his head.

"I apologize if my words offended you, Solas. Is there something I can help you with?"

"You are torturing this poor spirit."

Manfred groaned, shaking his head, and Solas scoffed, shocked by his words.

"This is not your place! You are not supposed to be bound to a corpse!"

"I would let Manfred make that decision."

"How could he do that? You already did it for him."

A pang of pain, like the sting of a thorn in his heart, then Emmrich took a deep breath.

"You are mistaken. This is what Manfred wants."

Solas couldn't hide his disgust, his contempt, as he stared at him. Then he turned to Manfred, sorrow and grief replacing his ire, and he shook his head.

"This is wrong," he repeated, and Emmrich wondered whether he was still talking about Manfred or everything else, the Lighthouse filled with strangers, the Evanuris running free, the world on the brink of destruction.

"I am sorry." Emmrich said, but Solas ignored him and left the room, his steps heavy like those of the corpses that roamed the Necropolis.

--------

"Tell him to stop!"

"Tell him to leave."

"I can't do this anymore, Rook, I really can't!"

"He criticizes everything. He's always there, judging us, and nothing is ever right!"

"Doesn't he have another base he can use? Or maybe we should move."

"Varric, perhaps you may talk with him?"

"Don't worry." Varric smiled from his bed, tapping his fingers on the heavy blanket Harding had found for him. "I sent words to a certain someone just a few days ago. She will join us tomorrow."

Rook looked at him, confused.

"Who are you talking about?"

Harding gasped, not sure whether to grin like a madwoman or scold Varric for his insane idea.

"You did not!"

"I did." Varric looked extremely satisfied, his smug smile almost hiding the gauntness of his cheeks. "Wear your best outfits, guys - the Inquisitor is coming to visit us."

--------

She stepped out of the main eluvian, and the first thing she did was smile at everyone. And everyone thought she looked young, very pretty, but also sad, and a bit tired.

"Inquisitor."

"It's an honor, Inquisitor Lavellan."

"My lady, thank you for coming."

They bowed to her, except for Harding who got a hug, and she told them all those formalities were not necessary.

"I'm not Inquisitor anymore." Her smile was small, but sincere and warm. "Please just call me Scarlet."

Bellara admired her prosthetic arm, and promised her to show her the special gauntlet she used in battle. Davrin tried not to stare at her bare face, but everyone had heard the rumors - how the Inquisitor had come back to Skyhold after a trip with her beloved Solas, face free from vallaslin, her eyes filled with tears for weeks, her lover staring at her from a distance with grief in his eyes.

"How is Varric?" Worry and sorrow made her look older. "May I see him?"

"Of course. This way."

She didn't try to hide her awe and curiosity as they led her through the Lighthouse to Varric's room. She devoured everything, eyes setting on every minute detail.

She gasped when she saw the murals in the library, and it was clear she was looking for traces of Solas, too. She searched for him with her eyes, hoping to see him appear from behind a door or around the corner.

The more they walked, heading to Varric's room, the more she grew disappointed. Rook hurried to reassure her he wasn't hiding, not this time.

"Solas went to one of his old hideouts to retrieve some useful parchments. He believes they could be useful to track down the Evanuris."

"Oh." She blushed, pleased.

"He should be here soon."

"I see."

She was shaking due to excitement and anxiety. Ten years had passed since their last meeting, after all. Rook and their companions led her gently through her lover's Lighthouse, hoping she could be the change they desperately needed.

She gasped when they brought her outside, in the courtyard, and she stared at the giant wolf statue that stood at its center, right above the Caretaker's workshop, for a long time.

The spirit observed her in silence. She saw it and smiled, greeting it with a bow of her head.

"You are finally here, after all this time," it said, and her smile widened, looking almost impish.

"I never give up."

She hugged Varric with all the delicateness, love, and care of a daughter. He held her true hand as she sat next to his bed, patting it between his calloused ones, and tried to reassure her that he was fine, that he was recovering nicely.

Guilt and pain never left her face as they spoke.

"Shy, it's not your fault." Varric smiled at her, while Davrin and Rook prepared the poultice he needed to apply on his wound twice a day. Emmrich checked his temperature and pulse, and used a spell to soothe his fatigue.

The others stood around, ready to help, wanting to spend more time with that famous figure, with the woman who had stolen the Dread Wolf's heart.

"I never should have sent you and Harding on that mission."

"I would have gone regardless."

"Me too!"

Scarlet sighed, shaking her head.

"Well, then." She tried to smile again. "Tell me everything."

Neve was just about to share her theories about the Evanuris' possible locations, when the door opened.

"Why are you all here? Is Varric alright-"

Solas froze, staring at the Inquisitor, mouth slightly open. He looked on the verge of a panic attack, thought Harding and Bellara; or a heart attack, thought Davrin and Taash; or perhaps even a stroke, thought Lucanis and Neve.

Emmrich thought he looked ready to crumple on the floor and cry.

Scarlet stared back, cheeks red, then she slowly relaxed and gently said:

"Hello, Solas."

He let out an odd sound, something between a sob and a croak. Then he ran away, and they all shared looks with each other, bewildered.

They had never seen him like that. So... vulnerable. Soft. Inoffensive.

"You really tamed him, Inquisitor." Lucanis snorted, earning himself a smack on the arm from Bellara.

"Don't worry, Shy, you will catch him soon enough." Varric said, smiling at the empty space where Solas had stood. "He can't run from you anymore."

--------

Rook gave the Inquisitor one of the best rooms of the Lighthouse. She retired there for an hour or so to recover from her long journey, and in the meantime the other guests went to the dining room to prepare dinner.

"Do you think he's visiting her right now?" Bellara asked, smiling brightly, for she found the whole situation pretty romantic. Harding sighed, shrugging.

"Who knows. Maybe? I don't think so, to be honest. He needs to recover from the shock."

"He's probably hiding in a broom closet." Lucanis snickered while cutting the vegetables for their salad. "Or rehearsing their next conversation."

"Assuming he'll be able to speak this time." Taash mumbled, making Neve chuckle.

The door opened, and Solas entered, looking almost haggard. His eyes scanned the room, and he didn't hide his disappointment when he didn't see the Inquisitor.

It was rare for him to join them at dinner. He would usually eat his food alone, either in his room or in the library.

And it was definitely rarer for him to help them set the table, but he did so this time, making sure to choose the best plates, and placing a bowl of berries and fruits at the centre.

"Don't we have any cake?" he asked, heading to the pantry and glaring at the shelves filled with cheese, bread, and ham. "Not even sweet tarts?"

"I don't think so." Lucanis said. He raised an eyebrow when Solas went back into the dining room, a storm brewing on his face. "Is it for the Inquisitor? I could bake something special next time."

"No." Solas narrowed his eyes. "I will take care of it."

Lucanis swore in Antivan under his breath, ignoring Spite's protests to shut up and let the Dread Wolf be.

The door opened again, and this time the Inquisitor entered. Solas' demeanor changed in an instant - one moment he was a surly, grumpy old elf, the next an excited, timid puppy, looking at her with big eyes, drinking every detail of her.

"Good evening." Scarlet greeted everyone with her warm smile. She blushed when she saw Solas, and repeated, softly: "Good evening."

"Good evening, vhen- Inquisitor."

Her blush deepened, and they stood there, awkward and shy, until Emmrich took pity on them and cleared his throat.

"Lady Scarlet, dinner is almost ready. Where would you like to sit?"

"Oh, I have no preference."

She walked around the table so her back would be to the fireplace and approached the first chair on her right, but Solas anticipated her: he pulled out the chair for her and gently pushed it back until she was comfortable enough.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at him, and his face turned pink, his eyes the biggest puppy eyes the group had ever seen.

He stood next to her, probably not sure whether she wanted him to sit at her side or not, until she noticed his weird behaviour.

"Solas, are you eating with us?"

"I... Yes."

"Then you should sit." She nodded at the chair next to her, and her smile was gentle, but also a bit amused, and he hurried to do as she said.

"Of course."

He sat down, clearly happy she had given him permission to be at her side, and they were so busy dealing with each other's close proximity, that they didn't see the look Davrin and Neve shared, nor heard Taash's snort and Lucanis' "Maker, aiutaci".

"How was your journey?" Solas asked, fidgeting with the napkin and the cutlery, his tone apparently neutral, but not really.

"Long." Scarlet sighed. "I'm not used to traversing such distances anymore. And I'm not a twenty years old Inquisitor anymore."

"You are beautiful." Solas murmured, and everyone around them froze, studying Scarlet's reaction.

Her blush reached her ears, and she breathed out a soft, flattered laugh.

"Thank you."

"Oh my." Emmrich whispered to Harding as they poured the stew - her mother's original recipe - into each dish. "He is truly smitten."

"If anyone can stop him from being an absolute ass, it's her."

--------

"Aren't you a cutie?"

Scarlet laughed and giggled as Assan chirped and rubbed his body against her legs, looking for pets. She gave them to him, stroking his feathers, his head, and Davrin smiled proudly at the scene.

"I have never seen a griffon before. Are they all as beautiful as you, Assan?"

A negative chirp, the little rascal puffing out his chest, and Scarlet laughed again.

Solas was standing a few paces away, also watching them, awkward and quiet, yearning for her touch. Davrin glanced at him, and his previous fears suddenly evaporated.

"Pity Solas said he might die soon."

"What?"

The Dread Wolf went to them, his strides long and hurried, panic on his paling face.

"I never said such a thing!"

"You said I am risking his life by taking him into battle, where the Blight is." Davrin gave him a flat, cold look. "And I know you're right. I know I'm being selfish, following centuries-old traditions that make little sense to anyone who isn't a Grey Warden. But this is part of our sacrifice, of the grief we must carry."

Solas took a deep breath, visibly torn between arguing with him and not wanting to do so in front of Scarlet. But she intervened, her voice calm and solemn, and Davrin realized she must have spoken like that during her time as Inquisitor, too.

"Once the Evanuris are finally dead and the Blight is no more, you won't have to sacrifice yourselves and your companions anymore."

She stroked Assan's head, cupping his muzzle and looking into his big eyes.

"There will be finally peace, and griffons will be able to fly alongside people without fearing any corruption. Isn't that right, Assan?"

He squeaked happily, and Davrin felt a rush of gratefulness and hope invade his heart. But what most shocked him was Solas' reaction: he stared at Lady Lavellan with big, awed eyes, his expression the most stricken and softest Davrin had ever seen.

"You are right," he said to her, and the Grey Warden blinked, not believing his ears.

"I know!" She grinned at her lover, then went back to petting the griffon, while the Dread Wolf watched her as an once blind man would watch the first sunrise of his life.

--------

"I'm sorry, lethallan, I fear I don't understand how this works yet." Bellara fidgeted with her many pouches. "But...! Let me know if you have any ideas! Two minds are better than one, after all!"

"I'm not an expert by any means." Scarlet shrugged, turning the little elven device in her hands over and over again. "I could ask Solas, if that's alright."

"Oh." Bellara's face fell. She couldn't help it. "That would be... I don't think he would agree."

"What? Why?" Scarlet looked genuinely surprised. "Nonsense, he loves sharing knowledge and helping people learn!"

Bellara felt her face shift into a grimace, the one she would make whenever she ate something sour or her research didn't proceed as smoothly as she liked.

"I'll go look for him- oh, Solas, you're here!"

Scarlet rose from her seat as he appeared from behind the open door - had he been nearby for the whole time, watching them, waiting for her to call him!?

"Could you please help us unlock this? I fear neither me or Bellara know how it works."

"Of course."

There was a warm, pleased smile on his face. Bellara shuddered, not used to such a sight. Scarlet shared some of their theories with him, and he listened, proud and patient, soft and sweet, before gently taking the device from her hands (their fingers brushed, and they both blushed) and showing her how to activate it.

"Just like that!?" Bellara spluttered, shocked by how simple it had been. "You just needed to press it like that!?"

Scarlet gasped, curious and in awe.

"Oh, it's beautiful, it opened like a flower! What does it do?"

"It's a catalogue." Solas used a bit of magic to further activate it. "A small portable archive."

Bellara bit her lips, trying to contain herself, then she acted, unable to stop herself: she snatched the archive out of his hands and stared at every minuscule detail, overjoyed and excited.

"This is incredible! I can't wait to read everything it contains!"

She beamed at the Inquisitor, admiring her even more than before.

"Thank you, lethallan! I was going crazy over this!" She turned to Solas, giving him a flat look, which he returned.

"If only someone had deigned to explain how it worked sooner."

Bellara left, but not before turning around to see Lady Scarlet fold her arms and scold Solas with a simple, but very effective look. Bellara could almost see his ears drop and his shoulders slump.

--------

Lucanis sighed, rolling his eyes.

"My lady, Spite wants you to know you're very beautiful."

Scarlet smiled. He had explained his delicate situation to her, and even though she couldn't see the demon, she acted as if she could.

"Thank you, Spite."

Lucanis frowned, then growled.

"No, you little piece of garbage, I'm not telling her that!"

He grunted when Spite hit him, making his nose bleed again. Scarlet gasped, babbling something.

"Are you alright!? What happened?" Then she turned towards the door and called out: "Solas, come quickly!"

Before he could understand what was happening, Lucanis felt the Dread Wolf's hand on his head. The pressure caused by Spite's outburst vanished, and he could finally think clearly again.

"Oh. That was..." Lucanis stretched his neck. Spite was still with him, of course, but it felt as if he were sleeping, taking a much needed nap.

Scarlet beamed at Solas.

"Thank you."

Solas blushed and returned the smile. Lucanis glared at him, and the lupo had the gall to ignore him, completely enraptured by Scarlet's smile.

"Stronzo figlio di puttana, grandissimo figlio di buona donna..." the Crow muttered for the whole evening while reading on his cot in the pantry.

-------

"Bull would have liked you."

Taash's mouth was set in a thin line.

"Because he liked dragons, too, right?"

"Not just that. He would have loved fighting with you against one. It's clear you deeply respect them, too."

Taash glared at Solas, who was pretending to check the weapons and armors, but was actually accompanying Lady Scarlet wherever she went.

"I couldn't defeat one the other day."

"Oh, that's totally normal!" Scarlet laughed. "We couldn't defeat one in Emprise du Lion the first time we tried either! It almost burned us to a crisp, and Bull and Cole had to carry me and Solas all the way back to camp."

She giggled remembering the scene.

"Do you remember that, Solas?"

He cleared his throat.

"I do."

She laughed again, the old memories of better days making her face glow, and Solas' face as he looked at her was so sickeningly sweet, Taash felt a shiver run down their spine. They had never seen the Dread Wolf act like that.

"Is that right?" they drawled, judging him hard after their last conversation - but he had eyes for Lavellan only.

--------

"Thank you, Manfred. Your tea was delicious."

Manfred rattled happily, and had he been able to blush, he would have done so. Emmrich smiled at the scene.

"He thanks you in return, my lady."

"You can understand him, then?"

"Oh, yes! We hold many interesting conversations. Manfred is an excellent herbalist and alchemist."

"That's wonderful." Scarlet smiled at the skeleton, but then her expression slowly turned into something more pensive, kind of melancholy.

"Are you... happy like this, Manfred?"

He nodded, the green gems of his eyes shining brightly under the lights of Emmrich's study. Scarlet studied him for a second, then her smile returned, filled with trust.

"That's wonderful. I wish you all the best - should you need anything, just let me know, alright? Maybe I could find a way to understand you, too."

Ah, Emmrich could see why Solas loved her so much.

Manfred gurgled a "thank you, my lady", and when Emmrich raised his head to the spiral staircase, he saw Solas watching them, pining and yearning, the rage from their old conversation completely gone, replaced by wonder.

--------

"What about the High Reaches you marked here? I feel like they might be a good hiding place, too."

Neve scoffed despite herself. She wasn't angry at the Inquisitor, of course, but at her lover and his dreadful lack of tact and good manners.

"Solas said the Evanuris aren't hiding, but gathering more power. And that they wouldn't do that in places like this."

She raised an eyebrow when she spotted him on the railing above the library. Maker, he really followed Lady Scarlet everywhere, like a lost puppy.

"Oh." The Inquisitor looked back at the map, worried and deflated. "He's probably right. He knows how they think better than we do."

"That's...!"

Solas walked down the stairs - no, almost ran, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"Let me check, vhen- Inquisitor. Perhaps I was mistaken."

Neve's eyebrows reached her hairline.

"You mean here?" he asked, pointing at the range of mountains near Minrathous. His hand slightly hovered over Lady Scarlet's back, almost touching it.

"Yes. It's near Tevinter's capital, so I thought..."

"That is an excellent idea. Yes, they might be commanding their minions from there, close to their main objectives."

Neve snorted, not really angry and annoyed anymore. In fact, she was amused, and she realized she had found one more piece of evidence that proved how smitten, how sappy the Dread Wolf was when it came to Lady Scarlet.

--------

"How can you..." Harding sighed, took a deep breath, and tried again. "How can you look at him, talk with him, without feeling the urge to... to..."

She groaned, tossing a pebble into the pond in her room.

"I love him." Scarlet said, simply, softly. "I know you're very angry, Harding. I am, too. But despite all the rage, all the pain, I love him."

"I know."

Harding looked at their reflections in the shallow water. She looked grumpy, tired, a smudge of soil on her cheek. Lady Scarlet still looked a bit too pale and tired, but it was clear Solas' presence had rejuvenated her.

"If we survive all this..." Harding vaguely gestured at the air to indicate that whole mess. "What are you going to do, Inquisitor?"

"You mean...?"

"With Solas, yes."

"Oh, it's easy!" She grinned, suddenly very cheerful. "Once I save him from himself, the marriage is back on!"

She said that with so much sincerity, with so much candor and innocence, Harding couldn't help but cackle, falling backwards on the floor.

The Inquisitor laughed, too, but Harding knew she was serious, that that was indeed what she was planning to do. Always so bright and hopeful, looking for the best in every situation - one of the many reasons why people had loved her as Inquisitor.

They heard a sound just outside the door, and Scarlet sighed fondly, shaking her head.

"Eavesdropping on us? Really?" Harding said, but she was not really angry, just resigned and even amused. That stupid man couldn't stay away from Lady Lavellan for more than ten minutes, now that they were finally together again, with no more secrets between them.

"I think I'll go to sleep. Goodnight, Harding."

"Goodnight, Inquisitor." Harding gave her a lopsided, impish smile. "Sweet dreams."

--------

Someone knocked at her door, and she already knew who it was.

"Solas."

Scarlet smiled at him. Part of her wanted to drag him into the room and finally, finally hug him and kiss him after all those years, but she didn't wish to scare him. She could see and feel he still loved her, just as she still loved him, but she wasn't sure he was finally ready to let himself go.

"Vhenan." His voice was soft, a whisper carrying all his love and guilt and pain and adoration. "I missed you."

She swallowed her tears, but they spilled from her eyes all the same.

"Oh, Solas." Her real hand trembled as she reached out to cup his cheek. He leaned into her touch, sighing happily, never breaking eye contact. "I missed you, too."

"I want..." He took a deep breath. "There are memories scattered around the Lighthouse and the Crossroads. Scenes from my past. I want you to see them, all of them."

Eyes wide, she could just stare at him, at a loss for words. He rested his hand upon hers, clearly determined, fully resolved to finally share everything with her, the good and the bad, Fen'Harel included.

"I do not deserve your forgiveness nor your love." His hand on hers trembled, and a tear ran down his cheek. "But I love you, vhenan. I always will. If the world truly is going to end, if we won't survive this, I wish to die by your side."

He smiled, that sweet smile he had for her only.

"But should we survive this second catastrophe, too, I wish to walk with you wheresoever you desire, to share everything with you, to live with you. Not as Fen'Harel, not as a god of rebellion, but as Solas." His lips quivered. "Your Solas."

She sobbed, a luminous smile on her face. She nodded and a "yes" had barely left her mouth, when he stepped forward and crashed his lips against hers, holding her tightly. He peppered her face with kisses, smiling as well, their laughter and giggles filling the corridor, before scooping her up into his arms and entering the bedroom, their hearts the lightest they had ever been, soaring with hope and love.

#dragon age #da:tv #solas #solavellan #scarlet lavellan #lafaiette's fic #da:tv spoilers #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #THIS IS ANGSTY AT THE BEGINNING #AND FLUFFY AT THE END #really i wanted to write something with a lot of humor but #then i realized solas probably wouldn't - couldn't - have a good relationship with these people #because he's not simply solas the elven scholar and apostate with them #they know him as fen'harel the dread wolf #there can't be the same camaraderie he had with the inquisition's companions #BUT THERE IS HUMOR #sprinkled here and there #thank you wendynerdwrites for the wonderful idea #we need a scene like this in the game jdfkfgfllgh

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nectardaddy · 4 months ago

Text

mirage | suna rintarou

seven | rolodex ★

masterlist

I haven't added music to this series; however, Soda by Nothing But Thieves helped me write this. I'd definitely take a listen!

ignore timestamps

cw/notes: messy x100 bass boosted in 4k, flawed characters, self destructive behavior, real/raw emotions, anxiety/panic attack, allusion to being overstimulated, very brief mention of throwing up (used as a metaphor, not detailed), repetitive statements done on purpose

She death gripped the metal counter with a small sigh, knuckles starting to grow sore from the tension she held onto. The cold metal sending a shock wave through her palms, a sudden iciness to it that she hoped would force her back to reality - it didn't.

Breathe.

As if telling herself that would make it any easier.

Her day started off normally, despite the pain the bashed her skull from drinking the night before. A familiarity to her routine that kept her stress relatively low - if something were to go amiss it ruined her day. A rolodex of mundane tasks and work obligations, but if she did them in a set order her stress was little to none. A schedule she stuck to meticulously, one wrong move and her day would be torn asunder.

Suna Rintarou threw a wrench in that complex order; took the rolodex in his hands and made a jumbled mess of it.

'I just want you to be happy.' Haunted her subconscious the moment she read it, the moment she finally went to sleep, and the moment she opened her eyes that morning. Lingered in the back of her mind throughout the day until it couldn't be ignored anymore; prowling around in her head like a cat - until it finally pounced.

Breathe.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but the thought of the green eyed man still rattled her to her very core. Feline and wild, at one point making her weak at the knees; now she only felt the need to vomit at the thought. To pull the nearest trash can towards her and heave; because why on earth did she still want him? Why did she still crave the attention of a man who's words were brash and unruly? Why did she still need the man who's kind sentiments never truly fizzled out?

Why did she still love the man whom she created to be the devil?

Distracting herself with every petty, trivial argument they had to negate the feelings of hopeless love. Purposefully unable to recall of times where he was doting, selfless - loving. It was better to remember him as a monster, if he ever was one in the first place, than think of him fondly.

Suna Rintarou ruined that image of himself for her. Shattered it into a million pieces and she watched in horror as it fell at her feet. 'I just want you to be happy' was the smoking gun that shot down any fleeting memory of a bickering past.

She reopened her eyes and seized the counter harder, an imprint of the table's edge embedding itself in her palm as she held it vehemently. With a tight jaw, she let her eyes slide to her phone resting on the table next to her. Staring back at her as a singular thought wracked her brain - call him.

Her world got a bit smaller when the thought hit her. Caving in on itself as the notion alone gave her tunnel vision.

Call him.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, sucking in a breath as all she could find herself to do was stare at the black screen in contemplation.

Call him.

A quick decision, one given without thought, that caused her body to move on its own. Picking up the phone and scrolling through her contacts with conviction, but without a thread of reflection. Yet the phone rang a bit too long, the fan next to her was a bit too loud, and the lights above her in the cramped back room were a bit too bright.

So she hung up the moment he answered and threw her phone back onto the table. She listened to it buzz relentlessly for the next few minutes with eyes screwed shut and knee bouncing until it finally fell silent again.

Breathe.

I am an unreliable narrator, obviously, and yes it was done on purpose do not come for me.

Iwa can pretty much guess what's going on, next chapter bout to go crazy with this

pay attention to the lock screen picture ;) (do not read me about that lock screen either I tried my best on canva)

if you don't know what a rolodex is, thanks for making me feel old, but (and this is the google definition) it's a "rotating card file device used to store a contact list"

she will not be telling the group chat what she's doing tonight

she will lie if they ask just like she lied to akaashi

yn I see you and I love you dearly

taglist (open , send an ASK)

@mollyrolls @causenessus @zumicho @seroh @eggyrocks

@nbcvs @rory-cakes @localgaytrainwreck @kodzu-ken @hermaeusmorax

@sunafc @lvtilzs @kr1nqu @iiwaijime @gsyche

@le000xxgrd @iheartpinky @strxwberri-s @wolffmaiden @yogurtkags

@superboywife @cherrypieyourface @soulfullystarry @bedeater @a-little-pebbl

@miliondollagirl @toges-cough-syrup @renardiererin @theycallmenanamisgirl @honeekyuu

@softpia @mfcherry @keeboismine @phoenix-eclipses

#haiykuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu!! smau #hq x reader #hq smau #suna rintarou #rintarou suna #suna rintarou x reader #suna smau #series: mirage

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matan4il · 9 months ago

Text

Daily update post:

If you remember the Bibas family, they were all kidnapped to Gaza on Oct 7, the father Yarden who left their house first, to protect his family, and then the mother Shiri, 4 years old Ariel, and the baby, 9 months old Kfir.

It is now confirmed that they were not kidnapped by Hamas, but rather by one of 26 terrorist organizations in Gaza, each one so small that they're usually referred to as terrorist factions, rather than terrorist organization. This one specifically has adopted a pattern of always cooperating with one of the bigger terrorist organizations (like Hamas or Palestinian Islamic Jihad), so we can assume that's what they did on Oct 7 as well. The first 45 seconds or so from the following vid is what it looked like when Shiri, Ariel and Kfir were being kidnapped, you can see how terrified she is...

youtube

Below is new CCTV footage that the IDF has uncovered from a street in Khan Younis, so now we know which city in Gaza the three (Shiri, Ariel and Kfir) were kidnapped to. Shiri is seen barefoot, Ariel's head is sort of visible, Kfir isn't, but it's assumed he's under the blanket, and Shiri holding him close to her body. Because this footage is from Oct 2023, there's so much we still don't know. Are they still there? What's their current state? Nobody knows, but the IDF spokesman has confirmed that there is grave concern for their lives.

youtube

Yesterday, a Hezbollah attack drone crashed into Arbel, the mountain on which Tiberias (one of the 4 holy cities in Judaism) is built. For some reason, the siren didn't go off. The drone crashed not too far from a kindergarten, but thankfully no one was hurt. In response, Israel has struck Hezbollah's weapon warehouses in Lebanon. To the best of my knowledge, they're still checking why the siren warning failed, and which country was the drone launched from, Lebanon, Syria or Iraq.

A French report says that the terror tunnels Hezbollah has been digging for years on Israel's northern border are more complex and dangerous than the system Hamas has dug under Gaza. That's what Israeli soldiers will have to tackle if the northern front goes to a full scale war. The terror tunnels Hamas has dug since 2007 under Gaza are so much more developed, extensive, complex and dangerous than Israel has realized, and the IDF has had to develop new ways of fighting in and around them, which we did not have when the war in Gaza started. Hamas' terror tunnels were estimated to be bigger than the London Tube (underground train system) back in Dec 2023, and there have been more tunnels located since. Just to put things in perspective, London's size is 1572 square kilometers (607 square miles), more than 4 times bigger than Gaza, at 363 square kilometers (140 square miles), and has a smaller underground tunnel system, according to what we knew about Gaza two months ago. But people want Israel to sit back, and let these threats to the lives of Israeli civilians continue to grow freely... Just a reminder, on Oct 7, the way the terrorists got to the border fence, to destroy the cameras there, without being spotted on the way was thanks to their terror tunnels, and those tunnels allow them to hold Israeli hostages captives, and it allows Hamas terrorists a place to hide and strike from, and it's where some Israeli hostages were murdered.

Today in our corner, "Suuuure, it's anti-Zionism, not antisemitism, but somehow it keeps targeting Jews and Jewish identity," we got two stories from the UK. One is of a Jewish family sending their baby girl's birth certificate to issue her a passport got the document back torn and defaced, with the word "Israel" under "father's place of birth" scribbled over.

The second story is of how the Amy Winehouse statue, which has stood in Camden Market for essentially 10 years, has also been defaced, specifically the Star of David was covered with a Palestinian flag sticker.

This is Elyakim Libman.

On Oct 7, he worked at the Nova music festival as a guard. Survivors of the massacre there say he helped save quite a few people. At a certain point, he went back to retrieve the body of a murdered young woman, so it wouldn't be taken hostage by the terrorists, and that's when he ended up being kidnapped himself. He's been in Gaza for over 4 months, including during his birthday. The other day, he became an uncle. He was supposed to be his nephew's godfather, but didn't get to. His family said explicitly they want no terrorists to be released in order to free him, and that if Elyakim could weigh in, he would say the same.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack #Youtube

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dead-lights · 3 months ago

Text

grand occult baking championship || episode 1.7

Just a little interlude before judgment!

In case you haven't seen it, I've been posting little interviews with the cast. Please feel free to send me questions, anonymously or not! I'll put them up in batches between posts.

first // prev // next

Most characters have canon origin stories! It's just Elle, L, Brandy, and Morgyn who don't. Caleb isn't wrong about how long it would take to get through it all, but I can make some space at the bottom of the post :)

canon

Most of this comes from dialogue from Werewolves, which I put up here.

Celene & Lou: attacked by Greg while on a date after Lou provoked him - she took the cure, he thought he could ride it out.

Lily: fled into the tunnels when Vlad tried to turn her, where she was bitten by a rabid werewolf. Spent years wandering around feral before Kristopher found her.

Caleb: turned by Miss Hell in a bar bathroom with the door on backwards. It's unclear whether he asked to turn or not, but I'd say most likely not.

Jacob: got lost in the woods as a small child after being traumatically separated from his family. He was hunted by a werewolf and a vampire, and then rescued by Kristopher.

Wolfgang: visited Moonwood Mill to escape the rat race in San Myshuno, decided he liked the werewolf lifestyle, and asked Kristopher to turn him.

Inna: turned by Caleb in the official trailer. Based on promotional material and the paintings from vampires, she seems to have been a thrall for centuries before that, possibly as early as the 1600s.

Darrel: born a spellcaster. Because he has the strong bloodline trait, he must be at minimum a 3rd generation caster.

Emilia: recently ascended according to her household description, presumably by Morgyn, since they're the only sage she knows by default and they're both friends with Grace and Tomax.

deadcanon

Elle: born a vampire during the first half of the Century Conflict. Her parents were former spellcasters who were turned during Operation Eternal Flame.

Brandy: attacked and almost killed by a member of her girlfriend Samantha's coven of origin. Samantha turned her to save her life.

L: an orphaned street urchin. Was accidentally transported to the Magic Realm after pickpocketing a spellcaster and taking his Glimmerstone. She met Keisha and immediately started badgering her for power and secrets.

Morgyn: a teen runaway. They found instructions to get into the Magic Realm in a library book, thought the whole thing sounded extremely rad, made their way to Glimmerbrook, and immediately started badgering Tess for power and secrets.

I wanted a Century Conflict veteran, which is why I made Elle so old. Brandy possibly has a mundane brother, so I didn't want her to have been born vampire. I love foundlings in stories (yes, I'm a big Mandalorian fan, fuck off) so yeah Morgyn and L are foundlings.

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t3a-tan · 4 months ago

Note

Could we see the aftermath of James finding Tanner from that last story? What happens when he meets Oliver?

A loooot of emotions is what happens

Enjoy ^^

Word count: 3,560

First part

-----

“Oliver? Can you hear me? Over.”

Oliver heard his friend's urgent voice coming through the walkie talkie he had placed off in the corner of the living room. James had come up with the idea a few weeks ago to make communicating easier because a phone was pretty inaccessible for Oliver to use whilst living in the woods. With the walkie talkie the batteries would only need replacing every year, and they were close enough that the signal was just fine.

He picked up his cup of tea as he walked over to the device, pressing on a button.

“I can. Is something wrong? Over.” He responded, releasing the button and blowing onto the hot tea to help it cool faster before braving himself to take a small sip. He hummed contentedly at the taste. The leaves he was using now were some of his best yet, and he planned to keep some to oxidise more so he could have a stronger batch in the future.

“I found a kid. A kid like— a borrower. He…you should get here quickly. He's asleep now, or passed out, or something— but he was scared of me. Come over. Over.” James seemed to stumble over his words, unsure of how to explain the situation briefly enough that Oliver would get here faster, but also with enough information for him to understand the urgency.

Oliver bristled at his words, standing up straighter and pressing the button again to respond.

“I'll be there in 5 minutes. Over.”

He released the button and immediately got moving, placing his tea cup back down on the wooden coffee table, grabbing his jacket and putting his boots on quickly before leaving the door and whistling for Gail.

The buzzard immediately swooped down and Oliver kept his arm raised, feeling the air hit him as he was suddenly being lifted by Gail’s talons. He swung himself up onto the saddle he had made and gave her an affectionate scratch at her head before whistling sharply, telling her where she needed to go.

James had opened his kitchen window so that Oliver would be able to enter easily rather than having to traverse through the tunnels in the walls. Gail landed on the windowsill and Oliver hopped off and quickly hopped down the short distance to the kitchen countertop.

James was already waiting there, but all of his attention was in his hands. Oliver could feel the nervous bobbing of his leg as he sat and waited, and he wasted no time running over.

“James? I'm here. Bring your hands closer so I can see his condition, and tell me what happened.” He commanded softly, worried about how James had come across the child and why he decided it was best to bring them to his home. He didn't think James was thoughtless enough to kidnap someone, so there must be a reason.

James nodded and lowered his cupped hands towards the kitchen counter, biting his lip anxiously as he looked between Oliver and the kid.

“I was taking Henry for a walk, but then Henry started barking and fussing about something down an alleyway. I thought I heard crying or something so I went to check it out— and this kid was there. He said his parents are dead, and he was just hanging out near a bin, and I didn't want to leave him there to freeze or get attacked by something— Poor kid feels like ice…” He explained.

Oliver climbed up onto Jame’s palms, approaching the boy to assess his condition only to freeze. Is it..? Oh god.

“Tanner?”

Although the boy looked slightly different, his build and size was almost the same as when he and Sammy had gone missing…which was concerning, since it had been three years and the boy had hardly grown. His dark curly hair was longer and matted, in desperate need of washing and brushing but clearly he had had no access to such thing for a very long time. He was dressed in a long t-shirt that came down to his knees, which seemed like it should have been white but it was so dirty that it was almost brown.

On what parts of his body were visible, there were scars which Oliver knew weren't there before. And although most borrowers were thinner from a lack of nutrition, Tanner did not have the build of a borrower at all; he looked as if he wouldn't even be able to carry his own weight, let alone climb something. If James hadn't found him…Oliver didn't think he would have lasted much longer.

“Tanner? Your…your cousin?” James breathed, holding very still, as if held in place by Oliver's shock.

Oliver swallowed and nodded slowly, beginning to lower himself to crouch beside the curled up boy. His hand reached out and gently brushed across his cheek, tears springing to his eyes when his fingers actually met skin. He's real. Oliver's hands shook as he inspected his little cousin for any visible new injuries, and he was relieved that James managed to not bruise him.

His parents are dead. That's what he told James? So that means…Aunt Charlie died. How long ago? Was it recent, or around the same time that Uncle Harris was killed? What happened? Is Sammy alive?

James watched silently, seeing how conflicted Oliver's eyes were. He was clearly processing a lot of things at one time; no doubt ecstatic about his cousin's return, whilst also being concerned about what he hsd endured. James knew that both of Oliver's cousins went missing… and if only one was here then…he was sure Oliver had a lot of emotions happening at the same time.

“I…I want to wake him up… but he…looks so peaceful…” Oliver uttered, conflicted. It had been years since he saw Tanner, and in those years he had only been able to picture his cousins suffering or dead. Now that all felt like a very distant memory, and he just wanted to watch the boy sleep in safety and comfort.

Oliver looked up at James again, and James just nodded, knowing exactly what he was asking. Oliver let out a small sigh of relief and settled down on Jame's hands, sitting against his thumb with his arms folded on top of his knees, watching Tanner and still having to keep reminding himself that this was really happening.

An hour had passed before Tanner began to stir. James had stayed still as promised, only moving a little in order to give Oliver some reassuring pats on the back as they waited. They had been mostly silent the entire time too, though James was certain that he had heard and seen Oliver cry at one point when everything had finally hit him.

As James felt the faint movements against his palm his fingers twitched inwards slightly, anxious about how the boy would react to being in his hands still. Now that he knew that this child was Oliver's cousin, the pressure to not scare him felt even more intense. He watched as the boy slowly sat up and yawned.

Then his eyes opened.

James’s breath hitched when his eyes met Tanner's, instinctively lowering his head in an attempt to loom less over the borrowers sat in his palms. He opened his mouth to say something, only for the child to speak first.

“O-oh… A-am I your pet now…?” He asked timidly, beginning to tremble, not having even seen Oliver sitting just a few inches away yet. James and Oliver were both taken aback by the question— and especially the way he asked it. He didn't sound surprised and he wasn't fighting; he was just asking.

“Kid…no. That's…” James trailed off, shaking his head quickly. Luckily Oliver stepped in, seeing that James was having trouble finding the right words.

He shuffled closer without standing up, wanting to be at Tanner's eye level when they spoke. Part of him was hesitating, his heart racing at the thought of doing or saying something wrong. He paused for just a moment when he saw Tanner's eyes; black like a void; but he continued despite the questions the sight gave him.

“It's alright. You're safe…” That was the first thing he wanted to make clear; having no idea what kind of experiences his cousin had had in the past three years so not wanting to presume he would understand that just by recognizing him. Oliver brought his hands forward carefully, keeping them palm up and low down, gently taking Tanner's shaky hands into his own. He offered a small sombre smile.

“Do you remember me..?” He asked, unsure of how much he would remember. Oliver moved out when Tanner was only 5 years old after all, and although he tried to visit regularly he was sure that he must still feel like a stranger. Oliver's thumbs ran over the back of his smaller hands as he waited patiently for a response.

Tanner stared at him for a few seconds, and Oliver wasn't sure if it was because he didn't recognize him or if he was in shock seeing him again…especially in the hands of a human. He simply kept a smile on his face and continued to hold his hands; grip soft enough that he could pull away at any time.

James was silent as he watched the interaction, trying his best to keep any twitching at bay. He hoped he would just fade into the background, practically holding his breath so that the boy would focus on Oliver instead.

“U-um…your name is Oliver…” Tanner finally responded, his words coming out slow and shaky. Oliver watched with concern as black tears began to gather in his eyes, unsure if that was normal or painful or what it meant— he had never seen or heard of such a condition and he couldn't take Tanner to a hospital.

“A-are you gonna save me..?” The younger borrower asked, hiccuping slightly as his fingers weakly gripped tighter onto Oliver's hands. His tone took on a more desperate edge and he moved a little closer to his cousin. “F-from the human?”

Tanner turned towards James, staring up at him with trepidation.

Oliver baulked at the question, his eyebrows furrowing and expression becoming a mixture of surprise and worry. He could feel James's hands shifting from beneath him and knew that he was uncomfortable; only staying put because of the two people seated in his palms.

Oliver cleared his throat and stood up slowly, gently pulling Tanner to his feet too.

“Let's step onto the countertop, okay?” The best way to get Tanner to understand that James wasn't a threat was to show that. Oliver could insist that he was a good human as much as he wanted, but in this case it was better not to argue without knowing how Tanner would react. He might only get upset at his insistence.

Tanner gave James a wary glance before following Oliver, clutching onto his arm now as he moved off of the giant hand and onto the cold granite. He shivered, partially missing the warmth of the human's hands but reminding himself of what those hands were capable of.

James relaxed once he no longer had to keep still, and slowly put his hands into his lap, glancing at Oliver for some sort of signal of what to do. Should he stay or go? It didn't take long for Oliver to tell him what to do.

He looked up at James, giving a slight nod.

“James? Would you make some miso soup for Tanner? Fetch a cup of water in the meantime. I'm sure he's thirsty.” Oliver chose miso soup because, although he would love to give Tanner all of the fruits the boy could ever wish for, his stomach was almost certainly empty. Citrus was bad for an empty stomach… Soup would be easy to digest and filling. Not to mention it would help warm him up.

Tanner watched as the human stood up and walked away, latching onto Oliver tighter at first before relaxing as he realised that the human was obeying. He wiped at his eyes and looked up at Oliver, a spark of curiosity in his timid gaze.

“The human l-listens to you..? Why?”

Oliver tilted his head down at the boy with a reassuring smile, crouching down again so he was closer to eye level.

“Well… James is a nice human. He's my friend… he'll listen to you too, if you ask him to do something.” He explained. Taking his eyes off of Tanner for a moment, he looked towards James and saw that he was walking back over with some water. He held up a hand to signal for him to stop and James was quick to listen. Oliver shot him a grateful smile before looking down at Tanner, who was tense and shaky all over again, staring in James's direction with an owlish gaze.

“Is it okay if he gets close and brings the water over here?” Oliver asked. As expected, Tanner shook his head, crouching down himself and huddling into Oliver's side. James had to strain to listen to the conversation and his heart stammered when he saw the kid shake his head. Even so…

“I'll leave the water over here then, see?” James assured, placing the small cup down on the counter beside him, a few feet away from the borrowers. He also placed down two tinier cups that he had bought for Oliver to be able to drink more comfortably when visiting. With that done, James moved away again to boil some water.

Tanner perked up ever so slightly as he watched, unsure if going over to the water was a trap or not. He looked to Oliver for guidance and followed slowly behind him as the man began to walk towards the water, a hand brushing over his head reassuringly. He craved that kind of touch. It had been so long… it still didn't feel as familiar as his sister's hand though.

He peered at the glass, reaching out and pressing his palm against it, seeing his faint reflection in it. That made him smile, leaning in closer and poking at it. It had been a while since he saw himself…he almost forgot what he looked like. His eyes were different and gave him a weird empty feeling when he looked into them, but everything else was at least vaguely familiar to him.

Oliver picked up one of the doll cups as Tanner began to pull faces at his reflection, slight amusement creeping into his expression and mixing with sadness. He exhaled slowly from his nose to regain his composure and steady his shaky hands, before reaching up and scooping some water into the cup he was holding. He then offered it to Tanner.

“Here.”

Tanner looked at the cup warily, then up at Oliver. His hands fidgeted nervously and messed with the edge of the gown he was in, seeming conflicted.

“S-Sammy always tastes stuff first… she says when someone that loves you does that it makes the food or water better for you. B-but um…she says it only works if you're older.” He explained, tapping his blackened fingers together.

Oliver felt an immense amount of hope hearing Tanner speak about his sister in the present-tense…and simultaneously his heart ached as he immediately understood the real reason why Sammy would be tasting it first; to test that it hadn't been tampered with. Still, he nodded, bringing the cup to his lips and taking the first sip.

Tanner's expression brightened seeing him do that, and once the cup was offered again he took it and drank it hungrily, finishing the cup in only seconds. Oliver took the cup back and repeated the process; filling it with water and taking a sip before handing it to Tanner.

He reminded the boy to slow down a bit, worried he may get himself sick drinking too quickly, and Tanner obliged. Soon enough the boy was no longer thirsty, wiping at his slightly damp mouth and smiling, seeming a bit more energetic now.

“Oliver? If the human listens to you, does that mean he'll let us go too?” He asked, having seated himself in Oliver's lap and hugging onto him now that he was done drinking. Oliver nodded, brushing a hand against his matted hair.

“Of course. James may have scared you before when he and Henry found you, but he was only worried about you. James told me he barked at you a little bit… That's my fault. He must have thought you would give him a treat, because that's what I do.” Oliver explained softly. “He's big, but he's very gentle… James and Henry.”

“I don't like dogs…” Tanner admitted sheepishly, shifting uncomfortably for a moment before looking up at Oliver. “A dog ate mum. Sammy tried to cover my eyes and my ears, but I heard a bit. She was saying no a lot and screaming, and the dog was growling, and then the bad man started shouting too. And Sammy cried all night when she thought I fell asleep, but I was only pretending..”

Oliver let out a shuddery breath, keeping any tears in as Tanner confessed those details to him so calmly. He could tell by how Tanner was holding him tighter that it was uncomfortable for him to talk about, but at the same time, Tanner had been exposed to so much violence at such a young age that he likely didn't understand how alarming it was for someone else to hear about that memory.

He could remember when he had been similar; randomly saying to his aunt and uncle about what his father's body had looked like, or what his mother said to him, or the way his sister had been so silent… It had been his first time being out of that environment, and whenever a memory or association would spring to his mind it felt compulsive to say it.

This was a normal and healthy way for Tanner to start processing those kinds of events, but that didn't make it any easier for Oliver to listen to. He hugged Tanner a little closer, not wanting to cry because he didn't want Tanner to hesitate when sharing these feelings.

James had finished making the miso soup, and cut the tofu into extra tiny pieces (though he was sure they were still hand-sized to the borrowers) before mixing that in. He poured the soup into a small bowl and took some tiny doll bowls out of the drawer he kept Oliver's things in. He walked over but stopped a few feet away again looking down at Tanner. He offered a sheepish smile.

“Can I come closer?” He asked.

Tanner stared back at him for a while, seeming to actually think about it. Even so, James was expecting a no, and was just hoping that he might get a yes. He didn't want to be seen as a monster…

To his surprise though, the boy nodded. James perked up and tried not to get too excited about the opportunity, still walking slowly over and setting the bowl down next to the water cup. He set the doll bowls down too, smiled as he silently celebrated, and then walked back over to the bigger bowl he made for himself. Picking that bowl up, he brought it over, and hesitated to come too close again.

“Is it alright if I sit and eat nearby?” He checked, just in case. Tanner was still curled into Oliver as the older borrower scooped some of the soup into the tiny bowls, picking out a piece of tofu too. The boy looked a bit less afraid now, and seemed to be curious but wary. James was once again happy to see the nod he got in response, beaming at the boy who seemed a little taken aback by the expression.

James set his bowl down and moved a stool over, sitting down close but not too close to the borrowers. He watched with mild confusion as Oliver took a bite of the tofu and a sip of the soup before giving it to Tanner, but shrugged it off as he dipped his spoon into the bowl, blowing on it gently to cool it down.

He saw from the corner of his eyes that Tanner was still watching, blowing onto his bowl to mimic his action, and James had to fight the urge to chuckle. He swallowed down his spoonful before noticing that Oliver wasn't eating.

“Not hungry, mate?” He asked, not particularly concerned but just wondering. There had been plenty of times that Oliver didn't eat when he visited, so it wasn't out of the ordinary. Oliver nodded with a polite smile.

“I ate before leaving my burrow.” He lied. In reality, Oliver wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep it all down after what Tanner had just spoken about. He was content to simply watch his cousin get his fill instead, his hands clasped together in his lap to hide how they were trembling.

It was peaceful at that moment. Oliver continued to think over all the possibilities of what may have happened to his cousins, but all he knew for certain was that as soon as he found the human responsible…

He would kill them himself.

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