#romance is clearly not my forte

[billskeis]

Hii!

Culd you do a smut where Tom and fem/reader are at the movies, and it's like an 18 plus movie and Tom gets a boner and asks reader to help him out?

ᡣ𐭩 sneaky movie theatre acts w tom

as the two of you sit together side by side in the movie auditorium, you adjust yourself in the cinema seat watching the film presented in front of you. you wanted to go see this new movie called “the notebook” and begged and begged tom to go see it (knowing romantic films aren’t really his forte) but alas did he agree and here you guys are now!

to your naivety, you had no idea that this movie had a sex scene in it. the description only listed romance! (but clearly you didn’t scroll far enough on the website ratings that the movie was going to be 18+) now you remember as to why the worker asked for both your id’s.

a heavy sigh was heard from beside you. turning your head to look at your boyfriend, tom’s full and complete attention was on the movie in front of him. you watch as he try to not choke on the popcorn he scarfed down, the dryness of it clearly getting caught in his throat as moans echoed off the theatre walls.

“you okay baby?” you ask placing a hand onto his that lays on the armrest between the two of you.

“y-yeah.. just the popcorn—ahem—got caught in my throat,” he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“liking the movie so far?”

“i think we would’ve fucked better on camera.”

“tom!”

“did i lie?”

“yes!! absolutely, look at rachel mcadams, she’s gorgeous!!”

“not as pretty as you,”

“yeah right tom..” you scoff, now although he was your boyfriend and it was sweet of him to say, no way would you have done better than THE rachel mcadams!! and ryan gosling. tom laughed as you grip his hand for teasing him, silence between the two of you as to now watch the movie you paid for.

a kiss to the back of your hand as tom brought your hand towards his face, a blush cannot help but emit your cheeks as he smirks. still attentive towards the movie, with your hands still intertwined you feel it drag across tom’s body, feeling every inch of his clothing.

he stops.

he removes his hand so yours lay flat on his body, not knowing exactly where. the fabric feels rough on your palms but half of you didn’t seem to care as the movie was priority. with a rough press, tom presses his hand onto yours, utilizing your hand to palm him through his jeans as he lets out a breathy moan quiet enough that others don’t hear.

“unhm..”

“—tom are you fucking serious!?” you quietly scream at him as you pull your hand back but he grasps it quick enough to bring it back onto his groin. he has a boner, a fucking boner because of the movie. what a loser.

“y/n please..”

“no! tom! we’re in public wait ‘til we get home.”

“schatzi no! you took me out to see this movie so help me out! cmon baby i’m dying over here,”

“you’re insane..”

“i’ll eat you out once we get home :),”

.

“deal.”

with a smile to his face, tom takes off his sweater as you work the zipper on his jeans freeing his hard on from his boxers. you scoff as you take a look at the sight in front of you, from the dim light of the movie screen you see tom’s cock standing tall and pretty, twitching for stimulation. tom eagerly looks at you as he shakes his legs with impatience. you hold out your hand in front of his face, palms wide open.

“spit.” you demand.

and so he did.

with a quick ‘ptew!’ a glob of tom’s saliva collects and drops onto your palms to use for lubrication. you can’t lie, that was hot in the sense that he obeyed you like such a whore just impatient to be touched. sneaking your hand under the piece of fabric, you begin working your hand over the head of his cock, eliciting a small whine out of him.

“ah..”

“quiet, we’re in public..”

“baby..”

mixing his spit with his precum, your hand smears up and down the length of his member. it’s almost a dream come true and tom can swear he’s in heaven. you pay extra and loving attention to the head, motioning your palm in a circling motion to engulf the tip as tom jerks his head back in pleasure.

“fuck—schatzi—just like that, o-oh god..”

“feeling good?”

“yes, mmph.. s-so good..”

tom’s chest heaves as he holds tightly onto the seat, a grip on each armrest he squeezes his eyes shut. you stroke him even faster, tom’s jaw now hanging open as he lifts himself slightly off the seat to thrust into your hands.

“‘m—cumming..!”

drips of cum leak onto your palm as tom orgasms, small whines and whimpers escaping the bite of his lip as his lower hips shake and tremble under your touch. slowing down, tom rides out his orgasm and leans back into the seat with a heavy breath.

“have fun?” you place a kiss on his cheek.

“yes.. thank you princess,”

“let’s go home..”

“but the movie—”

“did you forget about our deal?? i want to be eaten out right. fucking. now.”

“yes m’aam🫡.”

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch - LiTA (Sky/Prapai) 2/3

It took me much longer than expected to make it through the first two episodes of Sky x Prapai's arc in Love in the Air, but Prapai called Sky his boyfriend out of nowhere, so now I understand that he is Manifest Destiny-ing his way to love, and for the non-Americans, that's bad. Like real bad.

Let me be like Prapai and keep marching forward even though all the signs are telling me to stop.

In my first year of teaching, I was told I couldn't want the grade more the student did. I was reminded that some students don't want A's. Some students just want to pass the course, and that's fine. I need to take that approach with Prapai because he held Sky while he clung to him and cried for the nightmares to leave him in peace, yet in the morning, Prapai slings it back in Sky's face and makes it callously sexual. Clearly, Prapai doesn't want points for Slytherin. He does not want an A in decency. He does not want to pass "Go" on the board. Whatever he wants is between him and the demons he is fighting because obviously this ho does not want to be saved.

"Let me help you" - Look at that! As soon as you let men go, they wanna come back correct. Asking to help instead of forcibly inserting himself. Wow! So you are capable of not making everything aggressively sexual?

I'm watching you like a fucking hawk, Slytherin, which if you want to pass this course, you will note that hawks eat snakes, so basically I'm telling you I will devour you whole if you make another wrong move.

"That's all I ask," he says as he asks for EVERYTHING. "I will not restrain myself next time." "You cannot escape me." "Has he blocked this number?" Sky, babe, hon, bestie, rob this fucking man in his sleep. Take the watch off his wrist, the money from his wallet, and the audacity out of his mouth. These are the queer wrongs I'm trying to support this month.

"You should be spanked" - So 🙃 . . . IGNORING THAT! As a lifelong member and advisor of Greek life (fraternities and sororities are different for BIPOC), every time I see these university rituals, I always wonder what is the equivalent of a compliance officer in other countries because This. Is. Hazing.

And now Payu and Prapai are just hanging out at university activities like THEY DON'T GOT JOBS! Payu has a room in a garage, a room at his house with a toy car collection, and a terrified mechanic hiding under cars, so the man has got bills. Prapai has companies (plural) to run, and an overworked and rightfully annoyed (always in red) secretary holding down the fort, yet he is on a little vacay. Women in GLs - big bosses and screwing at work on company time. Men in BLs - FORGETTING THEY HAVE JOBS!

*Regina George has entered the chat* So you agree? You think you're a bad guy to Sky?

Every time Payu or Prapai mentions getting a reward (for not assaulting the boy they are chasing after especially when that boy is in a vulnerable position), I think of the conversation between Uea and King in episode five (part one) of Bed Friend when King asked for a reward and Uea said "The fuck you just say? Get outta here with that noise" then he left. Uea would eat these men alive.

The thinnest of ice, Prapai. I can see the freezing water rushing underneath. That's how thin the ice is that you are on, sir.

Because Prapai is confessing to sleeping with three other people since he began stalking Sky (no shame, as one slut to another, I'm actually very proud he admitted to it), can we get a STI test? We got condoms, so miracles can happen.

*squints* Is that a heart on your chest, Sky? No, I'm not angry. No, you're not in trouble. No, you're perfect. I'm just working through my own stuff, so I'm gonna need a minute to process this.

If you wanna live that chismosa life, you gotta be aware of your surroundings. Amateur.

Yeah yeah yeah, the wind needs the windmill or whatever dumb shit Dangerous Romance said. Now go make the lapel pin of it, and GET BACK TO WORK! This reeks of nepotism because there is no other way you would still have a job.

Prapai calls Sky by his name, no honorifics. Prapai sleeps on the floor. Prapai asks his mom for advice on how to care for someone. *squints* This is sus af.

And now he is swerving advances and doing his job. *squints even harder* Are you actually trying to pass this course now?

I, too, would be sad if rope was spewing out of my shirt like that.

Prapai just swindled a key to Sky's apartment without asking Sky for it. WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO FUCKING PASS THIS COURSE?! I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR ASS AGAIN NEXT SEMESTER!

I play with my ears when I get tired, so now I feel even more connected to you Sky, and PRAPAI IS KISSING YOU?! NOOOOO! STOP!!!!! HE'S TIRED! LEAVE MY BOY ALONE!

"I can't guarantee your safety if I stay" - It was a fake out, and I have lost years off my life because of this show. YEARS!

The first step is admitting you have a problem are the problem. *growth*

I'm not going to question the aerodynamics of riding with that project on a bike, but I will state that Prapai is the prefect example of the MAME Extremes I wrote about in the previous post because when he is good, he is really fucking good, but when he is bad, he is The Worst™ so can't we just find an in-between?

Don't you go pointing your scrawny finger at my boy like that! You're lucky he even still speaks to you. Shut up, five! A ten is thinking!

Prapai spending all his money on Sky. Prapai deleting all the numbers from his phone. Prapai getting the lapel pin. Prapai cleaning Sky's apartment. Prapai being honest about wanting Sky without being aggressive or crass. *squints so hard my head hurts* This is how Joe must feel with Ming in My Stand-In because I want to trust your ass, but my God, do you make it so fucking hard. I'm begging you to not screw up after this. PLEASE!

I've seen this scene eighty different ways from my dash, but hearing Sky tell Prapai to get bored with him quickly so he can move on while internally begging for Prapai not to get bored knowing what I know about his ex . . . it is salt in the wounds, poison in the wells, and the phone call from within the house. It is painful, deadly, and terrifying.

Prapai listening tentatively as Sky finally tells him what he actually likes to eat. Prapai responding with little tidbits he has learned about Sky along the way. Prapai giving shoulder kisses. Prapai asking about the ex. To quote RuPaul, "don't fuck it up"

Sig is the realest of all these boys, and I would give him the softest ear bites, the best thigh kisses, and the most amazing blowjob because that's what he deserves!

Prapai - Claim me. Own me. Mark me!

Sky - Gross.

While all of Payu's after scenes only made him look worse as he embraced the Manipulate-Mansplain-Malewife way into Rain's heart, all of Prapai's scenes make him seem like the biggest simp, and I am, once again, pleading for balance!

So now on to the next episo - - -

Wait a minute . . . I know this scene

This is where Sky gets in his head and distances himself, so Prapai breaks in and reads the journal. Oh no. Oh no no no.

*lays face first in a field of lavender*

I need liquor, ice, and a blender. They are all needed for different reasons. No, I will not elaborate.

[rielzero]

Original by for-tymora's blog, altering this slightly and removing some bits to prevent overly spoiling my oc.

30 Questions for Your Tav! [ Ask Meme ]

Your Tav as a Companion

1. What would your Tav’s greetings be (at different levels of approval)?

Negative (<0):

He stares just at you, Clicking his tongue in an annoyed tone.

"Got nobody else?"

"I would prefer if you'd find a better source of entertainment."

Neutral (0 - 19):

"Seems like you've got something to say."

He stares at you, just raising a brow and cocking his head sideways.

“This better be important.”

Medium and up (20+):

"Hmm? Sorry, you caught me off guard."

"Feeling chatty? I don't mind."

"I'm all ears." Gestures to his ears.

When spoken to by someone other than the player character:

"I'd prefer to be in touch with someone better suited for important conversations. No small talk."

Flirting:

Pretends he wasn't intensely eyeballing your back earlier, winks.

"Something wrong, love?"

"Hey, caught you staring.''

"I was hoping you'd talk to me."

"You're looking dreamy today."

"Hello, love."

"..Hmm? Hmm.." He seems happy.

"I was wondering when you'd need me again."

Partnered:

"Hello, partner in crime." Mischief on his face.

"Say what you need, I'm here to listen."

Act 3 Vampire - Partnered:

"You look hungry, or maybe I'm... Heh."

"Ask me anything, anything, anything.."

"I'd kill if it'd make you happy."

"My love, we are so close to victory, I can almost touch it." (To Astarion Origin)

''You're looking splendid and magical today.'' (To Gale Origin)

"Yes, my sun?" (To Astarion Origin)

''Yes, my love?''

Broken up:

He Just looks at you emptily, and disappointed. Dead eyed.

2. Describe their tent setup! What’s on the outside? The inside?

It's the most put-together you've even seen. Stitched to the brim, looks like it can collapse and barely covers the bedroll. Has a bunch of bags surrounding it and crates to support the rest, kind of like a pillow-fort situation.

3. What would their character quest be titled? Why?

I personally haven't decided on this yet. Rat-themed perhaps, or something to do with him looking sickly.

4. What would your Tav’s romance scenes look like? How many would they have?

Probably depends on the Origin character, I can't picture him being romanced by anyone other than Gale or Astarion at this time. There would be romance and bonding scenes.

5. Describe their idle animations!

Cracking neck, cracking bones, stretching uncomfortably.

Pondering, tapping his foot on the ground with arms folded.

Wiping his face and looking at his hand for a moment before wiping it off his pants.

Tightening his arm wraps (would look like he's rubbing his lower arms.)

Casting Shocking Grasp, just to look at the sparks in his hands, then waves it off.

Pulling out his journal and browsing through it or jotting something down.

Sitting down and drawing (Stops upon approach.)

Act 3 idle Animations would be conditional adittions.

Poking his teeth, then stare at his finger..

Observe his wrist scars, turning it around and stroking it.

Scratch his neck scars, stretch.

Looks like he's smelling something, clearly bothered by it.

Pull out a bottle of blood and sip from it excessively.

Sitting down and drawing (doesn't stop when approached.)

6. How would the player go about meeting them in Act 1? What is their introduction?

I've done a post on this before I think, but it would be in the location near the intellect devourers, hunched over and trying to keep himself from hurling.

8. After Act 3, What are they talking about at the reunion party?

Probably about the change of appearance and hairstyle, and how he's doing better than he was after the defeat of the netherbrain. He's still settling down and getting used to things, 6 months wasn't enough.

Back to Basics

9. What’s the significance behind your Tav’s name?

Locke misspells his name, because he came up with it when he was sixteen. In his mind, Loki is written Locke at first because it sounds like ''Lock-i'' to him, he was the lockpicker in a gang of orphans.

10. Does your Tav have a last name? Is there a meaning behind it?

He comes up with it on the spot, it means ''Trick'' and its very much meant to be a trick.

12. Does your Tav have any tattoos or scars? Why?

Locke's facial tattoo is magic ink, its a protective ward of sorts. Won't elaborate. His scars are all from abuse, different people.

13. What is your Tav’s main color palette? Why do they choose those colors?

Has a strong attachment to purple because of his dead childhood friend, who was a purple tiefling.

14. Where are they from? What was home like?

Baldurian sewers. Not much of a home, more like a nightmare.

15. Is your Tav more likely to fight/flight/freeze/fawn?

He fights in most cases.

17. Do they have any enemies outside of the main plot? Any friends?

He has acquaintances, his closest being a fatherly figure, The Undertaker, Jermaine.

Deep Dives

20. What is their relationship to touch? Do they shy away from it? Do they need it to feel present?

Very much touch-starved, but dislikes casual friendly touch because he's afraid of affection at first.

21. Describe a defining moment from their past, which makes them who they are today!

He has CPTSD, it wouldn't be a singularity, though I'd say the moment he became a warlock is pretty big.

22. How is your Tav’s relationship with their family? Their parents?

The woman who raised him thoroughly abused him, so did the other orphans he was raised with. As adults, their relationship is strained and reduced to just being familiar with one another. He doesn't view them as family. He simply can't.

24. What does your Tav consider to be their own biggest character flaw?

He desires to have something of his own, but fails to give it a place. He feels like everything that he does have will never be completely his own, at times. (I'm being vague on purpose.)

25. What is something they would die on a hill over?

Wizards being prone to explosiveness. He will not accept the reality that some wizards never blow themselves up in any capacity. They're all one wrong step away from exploding themselves.

27. What is the worst thing they think they’ve ever done/said to someone they loved?

Say no to his ex-boyfriend.

28. Describe a smell that reminds your Tav of childhood.

..Cooked Dwarf roast.

29. What fears keep them up at night?

Sleeping in the dark.

30. What does your Tav want more than anything?

Power, or to feel like he's worth something.

[not-ur-boy-toy]

Hartbreak Ranch Chapter 2

AN: Chapter 2 has finally arrived after a massive delay!! Not much romance going on so far for the two, BUT, it is getting there, I'm trying to not get too impatient, but gotta build it up... ;D If you'd like to be tagged in this series, please let me know as well! :)

TW: foul language, addiction mention as well as drugs mentioned (lightly)

Word count: 3.4k

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“Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my home?”.

The voice rang out through the living room as Shawn stood still as a statue. It was an odd situation. Shawn was in the middle of the room, in the middle of nowhere, by himself. He didn’t exactly blend in either, he couldn’t have been an ‘neighbour’ just coming to borrow some sugar. By any sane person’s mind, they would have thought he was trying to rob them. Shawn knew he should have answered by now, but his mind was elsewhere… Mostly admiring the cowboy in front of him.

“Oh uhh.. I-.. Well..-” Shawn stuttered out before being interrupted by the man who now stood in the doorway, his warm chocolate eyes now holding a dangerous glare. 

“Spit it out, I don’t need a story. Name and what the hell are you doing in my home” the guy repeated with a slight hiss, aggression now starting to build up in his tone as he moved  towards Shawn. 

This was all that Shawn needed to reply back as quick as possible. He had dealt with plenty of fights before. But, that was with a bodyguard who knew about his bad temper and sharp tongue. Cowboys weren’t his forte to fight with either..

“Sorry! Right, I’m Shawn, I’m guessing your brother, Owen, brought me here!” Shawn blurted out quickly, not risking to anger the other.

Shawn was praying that Owen would return fast, especially as the man stared Shawn down. It was hard to figure out what he was thinking, especially as the guy stayed quiet. Was he gonna punch Shawn? Beat him up? Or perhaps Kiss him?... Probably not the last one. The blond really needed to stop watching those romance films at 2AM. 

The doubtful look Shawn was given was surely about to seal his fate. His money winner face (literally) was about to get decked by an attractive, muscular guy and thrown out into the middle of nowhere again. Shawn backed up slightly, trying to give himself a bit of space in case things turned, however, fate was clearly on his side for once as he heard Owen’s chirpy voice from behind.

“Bret! Didn’t know you’d be here yet,” Owen laughed out as he walked over with a grin, oblivious to the growing tension in the room, “Shawn here is just stayin’ with us for a few days, I felt awful leaving him in town… His car had broken down and you know how far the closest motel is”.

Bret, which Shawn just learnt the man-who-was-gonna-beat-his-ass name was, stared at Shawn one last time before those same dangerous eyes softened as they looked at Owen. 

“You have too much of a soft heart, Owen… You know how I feel about bringing strangers home” Bret lightly scolded Owen, although Bret did receive an odd stare from his brother. One that clearly read that he didn’t actually know what the other was talking about at all.

“Don’t be such a grump, Ma and Pa don’t mind people being here.. Or well at least Ma doesn’t,” Owen chuckled out before looking at Shawn, “Oh! Sorry Shawn, this is my brother, Bret, don’t mind him, he can be quite the grouch after a long day”.

Once again, Bret and Shawn stared at each other, the tension building once again. 

“Nice to meet ya, Bret” Shawn hummed out trying to break the ice, however, his attempt was pushed away as Bret walked towards the kitchen instead, mumbling under his breath something about ‘lemonade’. Owen gave Shawn a small pitiful smile,

“Like I said, don’t mind him, I don’t know what’s up with him…”, Owen glanced over his shoulder to look in the direction Bret went before huffing and turning back to the blond, “Anyways.. Let me take you to the guests room!”.

Heading upstairs with suitcase in hand, Shawn followed after the cheerful man. The next floor of the house continued the rustic, homey feeling, having plenty of family photos dotted around, however this time, flowers in vases decorated the hallway on small, pine cabinets. Lavenders, some roses and a few other flowers that Shawn didn’t know were blooming from the elegant vases, filling the area with a soft, relaxing and refreshing aroma. There were five different doors, one on the left that was white with painted pink flowers and ‘Diana’ painted delicately across it, another next to it  was a pine door with painted on sunflowers, the third was a dark mahogany door with simple gold detailing. Across those doors were two other doors, one was a double door, clearly the master bedroom, and the furthest away was just a simple pine door. Owen guided Shawn past the doors until they reached the plain pine door. He opened the door with a soft smile, 

“This will be your room, if you need any blankets let me know… If you need me, my door is the one with the sunflowers”, Owen hummed slightly, trying to think if there was anything else he needed to tell the other. “I’ll knock on when supper is done” With one last smile, Owen left Shawn to get comfortable, heading to his own room.

The black boots Shawn wore clicked softly against the wooden floor as he entered the room that he’d call ‘home’ for the next few days. Compared to the rest of the house that the model had seen, this room felt rather… empty. There weren't any family photos, there weren't any carefully embroidered pillows or even any bright colours. Instead, the room had a simple double bed in the centre of the room, leaned against the right empty wall, the bedding was a cool white with a few fluffy pillows that looked like they were brand new and untouched. Two bedside tables laid beside the bed, both having a pull-cord lamp and one had a singular alarm clock that seemed to echo in the room. Next to the bed, there was another closed door which Shawn assumed was the bathroom. On the opposite side of the room, there were two panel doors, which once again, Shawn assumed was a wardrobe. A lounge chair sat in the corner of the room with a small table next to it, however there was nothing on it. No flowers, no leftover mug of coffee. This room truly felt abandoned, almost lonely compared to the rest of the house that Shawn saw. The only thing that was rather interesting to look at was the window which showed off the large farm from behind. He could see a few roaming animals around as well as an old barn by a few, large trees.

A soft huff left Shawn’s lips as he leaned his suitcase against the wall, admiring the view he had, “Just a few days… that’s all..” he quietly reminded himself.

Getting himself situated in the room didn’t take too long at all. Shawn had hung up his clothes which he deemed weren’t entirely appropriate to wear at a farm, his extra pair of shoes were lined up in the wardrobe, and he had made sure his cigs and bottle of vodka was hidden away in one of the bedside tables. He was gonna save them for when he met up with Ramon, Kid and Diesel, but desperate times called for desperate measures if he needed them. He even had some ‘extra’ measures hidden in his cig packs as well, something that relaxed him more than the cigs. But that was for extreme desperate times. Or fun times. Shawn’s shampoo and conditioner was lined up in the bathroom right next to his cherry and vanilla scented body wash, his hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste was also placed on the sink as well. It felt mostly like home now. Although, there was a small problem. Or well, two small problems. One was that there was no TV, did these people live like cavemen? And the second, his phone was getting pretty low and there was no plug socket.. He had double checked the whole room just to make sure! There was none behind the bedside tables, there was none behind the chair that could be hidden, there wasn’t even one in the bathroom! 

Staring at his phone screen, he weighed out his options. He could ignore his phone, save up the battery… But  having Diesel panic and get on his ass? Yeah, he needed to phone up his bodyguard. Shawn paced around the room as he held the phone to his ear, listening to the ringing before that familiar gruff voice appeared as Diesel picked up.

“Shawn? Everything alright? Are you at your hotel?” The questions instantly rang in from the protective man which made Shawn awkwardly chuckle.

“Yeaah… About that…”

“Shawn, please don’t tell me you’re lost”

The blond chewed on his bottom lip nervously, “Well… Not exactly lost… I mean, I don’t know where the fuck I am…” he started, “But don’t panic! I’m safe, I’m all good, just gonna be late for the photoshoot, y’know?”.

A deep sigh filled Shawn’s ear from the otherside of the phone, he could tell that Diesel was rubbing his temple.

“Telling me to not panic makes me panic more… and how late are you talking about?” the bodyguard questioned.

“Well, maybe a day or two… or more… I don’t know ‘kay?! My damn car broke down, but this guy is fixin’ it up” Shawn mumbled out before moving the phone away from his ear as he knew what was going to happen.

“YOUR CAR BROKE DOWN?! I KNEW I SHOULD'VE DROVE YOU HERE!” the voice bellowed down the phone as Shawn played with a strand of his silky hair. “Jesus fucking Christ Shawn, just-.. Are you at least somewhere safe?” Diesel asked with a loud huff.

Shawn moved the phone back to his ear before speaking, “Yeah, I’m safe, my phone is probably gonna die though, just gotta find somewhere to char-”

“AND YOUR PHONE IS ABOUT TO DIE?!”

A small hiss left Shawn’s lips as Diesel’s voice picked up again, “Let me finish my sentence, asshole! Givin’ me a goddamn headache, I get your point!” Shawn tried to argue back but the model was greeted by silence. “Diesel?” He hummed out, “... Big Sexy??” Shawn continued, believing the other was being petty enough to give him the silent treatment, “Kevin???”. Finally, Shawn glanced at his phone being greeted by a dead screen, “FUCK!” he hissed out in anger, throwing the phone on the bed without a care. Just what he needed. His phone dead, Diesel being pissed off and probably thinking he was dead… Shit, he really needed a smoke.

Grabbing his pack of smokes and his trusty lighter, Shawn made his way out of the room and down the stairs before making his way outside. He had no idea if they let people smoke on their property, they probably didn’t, but he was desperate for a fix. Standing outside of the house, Shawn took out one of the cigs and placed it between his thin lips before flicking his lighter a few times to produce a small flame. He held it under the cig before he breathed in deeply, relishing in the feeling of the harsh smoke filling his lungs before blowing it out of his lungs. The familiar taste of menthol was one that was always calming, something he had always chosen as a young teen, they were the cheapest, but they were perfect in his eyes. Sure, he enjoyed a good cigar, it made him feel confident- almost unstoppable. But a Marlboro blue cigarette? Nothing could beat that feeling of a soft burn, it reached an itch that some would call an addiction, but Shawn called it self-soothing. Another puff of smoke left his lips as he glanced around the farm. The sun was already starting to set. It was rather beautiful to see, watching pinks and oranges blur together as the sun started to dip behind the horizon…

Shawn was thrown out of his thoughts at the sound of footsteps behind him and a low voice filling his ears again.

“If you’re gonna smoke, at least have an ashtray nearby” Bret mumbled out as he placed a ceramic ashtray on the edge of the patio fence, “...Everything alright? I heard yelling” Bret continued as he stood at the top of the patio stairs.

Shawn turned around, cig still gently dangling from his lips, his baby blues meeting the warm chocolate ones in a stare, “I didn’t expect you to have one… But yeah, I’m fine, just peachy..” he huffed out, his eyes going to the floor as he kicked at a bit of dirt on the ground. He took another drag from his cig before moving over near the patio to flick off the ash that lingered on the edge into the ashtray. 

“Mhm, sure, peachy,” Bret answered back, his warm eyes never leaving Shawn’s lean figure. Shawn’s baby blues glanced back up at Bret, fidgeting slightly. He wasn’t one to keep his mouth shut, especially when it came to drama. Even if it was about himself. Or perhaps it was the way Bret looked at him like he was an actual person? Shawn wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help but let the truth flood out.

“... My phone has died, I don’t know how long I’ll be here for, Diesel is pissed off at me like it’s my fault…” Shawn spat out the truth, his eyes looking back at the ground as he took another puff of the cigarette in his hand. Smoke flooded out his mouth before he continued, “Like, sure, maybe I shouldn’t have taken a small ‘shortcut’... Or actually listened to him… But still, fuck, It’s not my fault” He huffed out. Bret raised a brow. He wasn’t sure which part he was more shocked at, maybe it was the fact that this ‘Diesel’ was pissed off at him, or perhaps it was the way Shawn deflected.

“But anyways, I’ll be out of your lovely hair, you clearly don’t like strangers,” A soft, sarcastic chuckle left Shawn as he pushed the cig against the ashtray, “Thanks for the ashtray and well, that little rant” he thanked quietly.

“It’s fine… And don’t feel like you need to leave fast, you just caught me in a bad time” Bret awkwardly apologised, rubbing the back of his neck, “If you need to phone someone, we’ve got a landline phone you can borrow” he offered with a small shrug. 

“Ha, thanks for the offer handsome, but I don’t exactly remember phone numbers, got too many to remember” Shawn chuckled out again, he wished he remembered Diesel’s phone number or even Hunter’s… he knew part of Marty’s number, but even if he remember his number, they hadn’t even spoken in years… 

Bret was surprised at the name ‘handsome’, it was very sudden but he shrugged it off quickly, “I can get Owen to take your phone and charge it as the repair shop, I know there isn’t any plugs in this house- Never has been, never will, that’s the old man’s orders, but the shop has one” He offered again, hoping to ease the mans tension as well as an apology for their first meeting.

“I-... I suppose that isn’t a bad idea at all… Thank’s Bret” Shawn smiled softly, “I’ll give you it tomorrow, or Owen, whoever I find first, but thank you” his blue eyes took one more look around the ranch before looking back at Bret, “I’ll see you inside, if I stay out any longer I’ll be tempted to have another cig” Shawn tried to joke, gently shaking the box of cigs he held, but it was the truth. He would have had another cig- Or probably the whole box and his ‘fun sticks’ as he liked to call them as well. He gave Bret another small smile before heading inside of the house, brushing past the bigger man.

Bret glanced over his shoulder, watching as the man made his way inside the house. Questions continued to wrap around his brain about Shawn. Who was Diesel? Why would he be upset with Shawn? Where was he even heading to make a shortcut through the middle of nowhere? Even Bret knew it was a silly mistake to make. His thick brows furrowed together as he huffed, his eyes glancing over towards the sunset. He stayed for another moment, watching as the sun ducked behind the horizon, the sky getting darker and the warm air grew colder. He took a deep breath in, the smell of Shawn’s cheap cigarettes still clinging to the air as one final question ran through his head. Sure he had met other strange characters, like his soon-to-be brother-in-law Davey Boy Smith, but Shawn was a lot more different than him. He didn’t fit in, he didn’t fit in the town nearby nor the farm life itself by the looks of his clothes and the way he held himself. His hair and clothes were too perfect for a man who was stressed about being stranded in the middle of nowhere, there wasn’t any out of place hair in sight or a crease in his clothes… Who the hell was Shawn?... Bret shook his head slightly, he was just simply overthinking about Shawn, that’s all.

Night had quickly arrived by the time Owen knocked on the guest door to announce that supper was done. The dinner table was on the biggerside, having about twelve chairs around the table and only a few of the chairs were being used. He met the patriarch of the Harts, Stu, and his Mrs, Helen. Much like Bret, Stu wasn’t as welcoming, but Helen was his saviour. She had welcomed him with open arms, Owen clearly took after his mother. He had met Diana who was sweet, she was the youngest daughter of the Harts. He had also learnt that the family was rather large, having twelve siblings all together, but most of the kids had moved out. The supper was something he needed, something relaxing, and soul soothing from how fresh and hearty the soup and bread he ate. He did notice Bret missing from the table, which must of been the usual as Owen’s voice perked up,

“Bret usually misses his supper, he’ll be checking on the animals making sure their water is good and they have food” He explained before taking a sip of water, “He’ll have it later”. That eased Shawn’s curiosity, leaving it without another question. 

After the meal, Shawn thanked them, especially for the welcomed hospitality before heading to the guest room. He changed out of his clothes, hanging them up before fully getting ready for bed. Shawn had a strict regime that he followed, he would wash his face before cleansing it, then he would moisturise as well. He had to keep his face looking young, obviously. He would then brush his hair before tying it up into a ponytail, he’d also have a whiskey over ice and even a cigar before brushing his teeth.

Usually after his little routine, he would stay up late in his penthouse, he’d sit on his large, comfy couch that was as soft as clouds and watch a few films before going to bed. On bad nights, he wouldn’t sleep. He’d instead sit outside on his balcony, watching the bright city of New York light up the dark sky, replacing the stars he couldn’t see. It was called the city that never sleeps for a reason. Yet, being in this home, he felt as if he wouldn’t have a bad night, that he could actually rest without an issue.

The guest bed wasn’t exactly as comfy as his bed at home, but he was used to other beds, especially when he travelled. It was the comfiest he had in awhile, he seemed to sink in like his own bed somewhat, and it didn’t feel like stone like a few five star hotel beds did. The room wasn’t fully pitch black either, which didn’t annoy him as much as he thought it would. The curtains that covered the window in the room were thin, letting in the natural light of the moon and stars outside fade in which tempted him to go and admire… but he’d leave that for a sleepless night. Even the sounds of crickets outside didn’t annoy him even if he enjoyed  silence when he slept. They chirped out a symphony that lulled Shawn to a somewhat peaceful sleep.

[itonashi]

hii~~

Can i request any bllk boys of ur liking with a s/o who's very very smart🤓.

thank u~~

IT'S MY WIN!

pairing: itoshi rin x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, short fic.

note: i realized i have no rin oneshot so far and it was always his brother so this is his debut but in a short fic because i simply cannot think of a long fic with this one. im sorry if this doesn't exceed your expectations 🙁.

"do you have a screw loose?" rin is irritated at the fact that you, a top student could be so oblivious to a confession letter. he thought you had the common sense to identify the letter in his hand was a confession letter directed to you.

"i don't. of course i know it's a confession letter." you look towards the letter in his hand. "infact" you snatch the letter away and toss it into the trash "i don't want to know it is a confession letter. when i have you as my boyfriend."

you wipe your hands off with a wet tissue that you always have in your pocket. rin is staring intently at you after you said those words. i can definitely feel his burning gaze on me... you sweat drop at his gaze and awkwardly smile. he notices it and turn his head towards a new direction.

you lightly chuckles at his red ears that he tried so hard to hide. it was too obvious. he was jealous. you take his hand and his head immediately fly towards you — you tip toe at his height and whisper "let's go to the library, rinrin. ill teach you more english." you lean back and immediately disappear from rin's sight.

rin put a hand over his mouth and let out a sigh. goddammit... she got me again. he felt the butterflies in his stomach.

itoshi rin lose!

rin asked you out on a date but why is he the one late? you even went out your way to dress up yourself. a typical setting in a romance manga, it is always the cafe date.

you put up your hand on the table and hold up your head with it. pouting at the fact, itoshi rin is late. maybe it is better for me to do some revisions... pathetically even in a date, you would think about studying all the time. it's not your fault that you like studying.

"sorry. i was late." his deep voice reach into your ears and you could see how he was panting for breath. "oh, you're right on time. i just came here." you lie, wondering if he could pick up on your irritation. he take a seat infront of you "next time, we'll just date in the library." he suggests that because he knows how much you like the library. mainly the pure reason is because of the air-conditioning.

you agreed and sip on your peach tea. "stop lying. im really sorry for being late." rin avert his eyes from seeing your fiery eyes. your lips turn into a small smile "no need to be so scared, rinrin!" you put up a cheerful smile. "if you always look like that, you will have no fans!" with how you suddenly change your language, rin managed to stay calm "i don't need any fans." he blink his eyes.

"because im your only fan, right?" you gaze you eyes at him with a smile that made him fall in love you with you over again.

"yeah. you're right." rin admit to it. his intentions was to make you blush but he knew that he was already blushing from the start ever since you spoke those words.

itoshi rin lose... or did he really?

the loud cheering among the crowds make you have a headache in the moment. you were never one to like crowds but make it through just because itoshi rin is a soccer player.

and soccer players have big fanclub, right? but this is a different story. your school is hosting a field day right now and unfortunately you have become one of the relay runners. what make it worse is that itoshi rin was in it too.

and you two are enemies in the moment, right now. "give it your all, [name]" you can hear the smirk on his voice. "i see... thank you, rinrin!" even though rin wanted to show his confidence. your confidence beat his instead, even if sports isn't your forte and yet, you still tried your very best.

"are you okay?" rin pant, out of breath — when he could clearly see you suffering more than him. you look up "more than okay..." you said while sitting down.

you wipe off the sweat on your face with a towel that was given to you by your classmates. you close your eyes and burry your face into your legs (dawg i hope you can understand what im trying to write), you feel a presence beside you and peek a little.

"you won't mind i sit here, right?" rin ask you. you shake you head. rin glance towards you, extending his hand and pat your head.

you grab his hand "what's with the sudden affection?" you raised you brow in question. "motivation for you to ace the next test." he whisper, averting his eyes from you. you heard him for the first time but you wanted to tease him more. you lean closer "hmm? what did you say?" you tease.

"i said it's my win this time at the next test." he exclaimed, looking at the other way. it's a miracle no one heard him. you smirk "if i win, you gotta do something for me instead." you said with a sly voice.

you let go his hand and took the other energy drink beside him. opening the can, letting out the air inside it. you took a gulp, the refreshing feelings going down your throat.

"[name]. be my tutor."

"i have always been your tutor the moment i became your girlfriend."

rin widen his eyes and cover his face with his hand. you notice the blush on his ear and lightly chuckle.

itoshi rin! stop losing!

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 28

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: Burning Hearts

Notes: /

Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +200K

Chapter:  28/ It’s a secret.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A joining?

A joining?!?

Matthew had always been someone you were enamored with. Yet, seeing the honey-eyed man now did not cause the same response in you that it used to. Especially not after what you had just learned.

Helio was blind to the shock on your face, and continued to sing Matthew’s praises, “He is a decent man. And I believe his affection for you has grown to match yours.”

It had you lost for words for a while.

He mistook it for being too overjoyed to respond. “I always hoped you would find a love as true as the one I and your mother share.”

It came out louder than you intended to, “No.”

Helio paused, “No?”

“No.” You said again, taking a step back. “There will be no joining.”

He clearly did not expected the response. “I thought you would be happy.”

The betrayal from Matthew was still fresh and this could not have come at a worse time.

“I am sorry, father.” You meant it, he was trying to make you happy and now you had to disappoint him.

You gave him no reason for the change in your feelings towards Matthew, and walked away alone towards the fort.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

After all that had happened, Matthew sharing your private matters with others was the final straw of your patience.

A joining? With him? You were so upset that you didn’t even want to speak to him again. But you wanted to get this off of your chest first and not let him think that what he did was proper. You found Matthew speaking to a few of the knights in the entrance hall and marched right over to him. They were chuckling among each other amicably, but quieted down when they saw the storm in your eyes.

“How is your nose?” You didn’t actually care in that moment.

“It doesn’t hurt any-” Matthew’s answer was cut short by the slap he received across the face from you. His cheek turned red from the impact.

He was absolutely baffled by the slap that had made the pain in his nose return with a vengeance. “What… why-”

Some of the knights had flinched.

You wasted no time bringing the matter up to him, your voice was loud in the large hall, “Are you telling them about my personal matters too?”

Matthew was quick to understand where your anger was coming from, he got visibly uncomfortable and asked the others, “Gentlemen, will you gave us a moment?”

They didn’t need to be told twice and left the hall before the storm could crash down on them as well.

“Y/n… I-” He stammered.

“Shut it!” You didn’t want to hear it, you didn’t care that you were shouting at him either, “How could you?! You promised never to tell, and now I learn that you have broken your promise! It was not your secret to share!”

Matthew’s expression filled with remorse. “I am so sorry. It was just talk among men, nothing else.”

It was infuriating how he tried to make it sound like it was nothing. It wasn’t nothing, not to you. Trust was hard for the Dawn Folk, especially for yourself, and to be treated like this… “For you it was just ‘talk among men’, for me it is my personal affairs, that I trusted you with!”

He remained quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say.

“I’m sorry.” He said again. “I did not know it would hurt you.”

Was he so inconsiderate?

Bitterly you told him of what your father had said, “My father thought it would be a good idea to have you as a knight, not just for your competence, but because he wanted to make me happy by having you live in our home.”

Matthew was pleasantly surprised, “Really?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “But ever since I’ve arrived here, you have been different to me. I am not one of your conquests, Matthew. We were never more than friends, even when I wanted to be more.”

He tried to touch your arm but you recoiled from him. “We can be more, y/n. I want us to be more.”

“I DON’T! I can barely look at you now!” It was unbelievable that he could act like he had not betrayed your trust severely. “You didn’t see me. I was so infatuated with you and you never looked in my direction with the same interest. I do not think you even really care for me, I cannot even trust you anymore. Where did my friend go? The one who respected me as I was, because I was me.”

The memories of childhood, when you played together by the creek, were painful now.

Matthew went down to his knees, sensing that this conversation was going the bad route. “I do respect you. I do care for you. Please, forgive me. I am a fool.”

“That, you are.”

A voice came from behind you. Matthew looked past you to see the Ash Man watch him be down on his knees for forgiveness. If that not dented his pride…

You gestured with your hand for Lancelot to leave. He reluctantly walked passed you and Matthew, and left the hall.

Matthew was not happy with the interference but kept it to himself. “I respect you, you must believe me.”

Slowly you shook your head. “No, you don’t. And I… I don’t think I want to be friends with someone who saw me as just another conquest. I thought I was more than that to you, I was wrong. I can feel how you are trying to see me as someone I am not.”

You stepped back and heard the door of the fort open again, this time your father walked in and saw the knight on his knees.

Neither of you looked happy now, you had known Matthew for years, but maybe you never truly knew him at all. Or maybe you were not the only one who had changed.

You walked away before your father could ask questions that would only make it worse. If he needed answers, Matthew was free to give them.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

Ciro had taken Squirrel to the place he said he often had ‘great adventures’.

The library.

Poor Squirrel was counting on a real adventure but had to settle for the written ones.

While Ciro sat on the floor to read, Squirrel searched the books for something that wouldn’t bore him too much. Your cousin was the first you saw when entering the library, Squirrel was trying to climb a shelf to reach one of the old books at the top.

Of course it had to be those…

“Here, let me help.” You hurried over, before he could break his neck, and plucked the book he was aiming for off of the shelf.

After looking at it for no more than three counts, he handed it back to you. “Mirena is teaching me how to read. But I don’t find it very interesting.”

You couldn’t believe that you were not aware that he could not read yet, “I never knew you couldn’t read.”

Squirrel shrugged his shoulders and walked along the shelves again. “It’s boring.”

Ah, yes. He was the sort of child that needed extra motivation for certain things.

You gave him some encouragement, “You’ll find something to read that you will enjoy. Or maybe you will even write something yourself.”

He didn’t have much faith on the matter, “There’s nothing here for me to read.”

There had to be something there that he might like. “What do you want to read about?”

The boy thought for a moment, then exclaimed, “Moon Wings!”

You recalled a book that had some stories about them. “We have something about them here. Let me look for it.”

“What does it look like?” He asked.

You began to search for it. “It’s a big, heavy book, leather bound. Brown, with golden details on the front.”

Squirrel began his search for this book as well. Minutes passed before you found it at the top of a shelf, what idiot had put it up so high?…

The boy helped you stack some books on top of each other and by standing on the stack you were able to collect the book. A thick layer of dust was covering it and you tried to get it off as best as you could, then knelt down on the floor to look through the pages with him. The small sketch of a Moon Wing decorated a page about a hundred pages in, there was some information on them that you helped him to read. It got Squirrel interested in the rest of the book, so you sat with him for quite some time, in the meantime Ciro was consumed by the book he was reading off in the corner. There were so many pages, it wasn’t until your eyes began to burn that you looked to a window and saw that the sun had gone down.

“I think I should be taking the two of you to get dinner.” You began to close the book.

Squirrel prevented it, now having grown interested in the literature, “Can I take the book with me?”

You saw no issue. “Of course you can, just be careful with it. We do not have as many books anymore since the war.”

He closed the book, picked it up, and when he tried to stand the book slipped out of his hands. It landed on the floor, one or two pages fell out.

Squirrel looked so genuinely concerned for your reaction and gave a sheepish small smile. “Sorry…”

You bend down to put the pages back into the book, then saw the pages the book had fallen open on. A page that held a drawing of something familiar, even the boy saw.

A sketch of an unknown face, with tear-like markings beneath the eyes…

“Those marks, they look like Lancelot’s.” Squirrel pointed it out.

This sketch was of a woman, who’s markings were eerily similar to those of the Ash Man. You picked it up and read some of the text that accompanied the drawing, it spoke of the Ash Folk, of their lineage and the little information that was known of them. There were some names, it mentioned the king of the Ash Folk and his descendant. The book almost fell out of your hands too when Lancelot’s name was written under King Ban’s.

The door of the library was opened, Mirena stepped inside. “There you are, I’ve been looking forever, dinner is getting cold!”

Ciro was on his feet and beside Squirrel not a second later. “Sorry, Aunt Mirena.”

You quickly closed the book and used one of the loose pages as a bookmark for it, you told Squirrel, “I’ll go and put the book in your room. Go on, don’t let dinner get cold.”

With an apologetic look in the direction of your mother, you ushered the children to go with her. Once they were out of the library, you reluctantly ripped the page from the book before Squirrel or anyone else could learn of this and spread the news around. You stuffed the page into the pocket of your vest, then did as promised and brought the book to the room Ciro and Squirrel shared.

Was Lancelot aware of his lineage? Did he even know who his family were?

It dawned on you that he never spoke of them, maybe he did not remember who they were. You decide to get some fresh air after being in the dusty library for hours, the evening wind offered it to you freely outside the fort’s curtain walls. One of the knights stood with his back leaning against the wall, drinking a tankard of last night’s ale, he greeted you.

You returned to the fallen trunk of the tree you had sat on last night. The page in your pocket felt heavy, you would need to give it to Lancelot, he deserved to know. The rapid sound of hooves hitting the ground neared you, and you turned to see a woman ride up the hill on horseback. Her horse galloped into your direction and you knew there was trouble. Your eyes fell on the village next, in the darkness you could see flames light up the night.

The woman halted close to you, panicking as she called out, “Dawn Woman, we need your aid! One of our homes is caught by fire, we fear there will be injured!

“Warn the others!” You shouted to the knight who was coming closer, “Make them bring all the buckets we have and anything that can be used as such!”

You approached her, and she gave you a hand to help you sit behind her on the horse.

She spurred the horse into a gallop immediately, and darted down the hill towards the village down below.

The smell of smoke reached your nostrils long before you arrived at it’s origin. It was one of the larger buildings that was on fire, you knew that it housed quite a few people. Chaos had overtaken the night and villagers tried to help those who had fled the flames. You were helping the first wounded the second your feet touched the ground again. A young woman was crying in agony, the burns on her face were severe. It was a relief to see them disappear when you touched her hand to sooth and heal. She had no time to thank you for it, you were already tending to the next wounded.

The situation was overwhelming, you did not want to run out of energy too quickly, but you couldn’t just let the worst injuries wait. If their situation got worse, it would only take more energy to heal them. You prayed quietly to the Hidden, pleading with them to give you the strength to help your people.

Some stood by and watched the fire consume the building and spread to the one beside it, others cared for the wounded. It was a constant running back and forth of people trying to put the fire out with buckets, with water from the well or of the wagons that hurriedly filled and brought them back from the lake nearby. They needed help, you needed help…

There was too much going on all at once and the panic was overtaking the people around you. An approaching horse darted through the village in your direction like a shadow passing through the chaos.

You knew that horse…

It came to a sharp sudden halt and the boots of it’s rider hit the ground only a few steps away from you. Even with the veil around his face you had recognized him right away, and saw that a part of his cloak was missing, he had used it to make the veil he wore now.

“Lancelot, no! You cannot be here!” You ran up to him, knowing the rules your father had given him. He was not supposed to leave the hill, and broke the rules with his presence in the village.

He had been in the stables tending to Goliath when he heard the woman arrive on horseback to ask for your aid. The call of the Hidden to follow had made him break the rule your father had given him.

Lancelot stubbornly moved past you towards the burning house. “There are still people inside.” He spoke only loud enough for you to hear, “I can smell them.”

Oh gods, no.

Your first instinct was to go towards the flames to save them.

He did not even let you take another step near the burning building. “Don’t! I will go.”

“No, you-” You weren’t willing to let him risk his life.

He saw the fear in your eyes, his hand quickly cupped your cheek, thumb tracing your cheekbone. “Fire cannot burn me.” He let go. “Stay here!”

You feared that the last time you would see the Ash Man, was him entering a burning building. Some had even tried to stop him from doing so to save him from the flames, he fought them off without truly hurting them, then stepped into the fire.

The Hidden made their strong presence known to the village through the burning ashes, they began to collect together and circle the burning building. If it was not so destructive, it would have been considered beautiful, magic hanged in the air. It silenced most of the chaos as people stared at it.

“Please, protect him…” You softly begged the Hidden.

The people around you needed your aid, their shouts for help forced you to spring into action. Finally, the knights of the fort arrived to help, even your parents were present. With tunnel vision you healed one person after another together with them, your eyes never fully left the flames or the presence of the Hidden.

The exhaustion was beginning to take hold on you, but you could not fail them now. Healers from the fort arrived and helped those who could survive waiting for the help of the Dawn Folk.

Mirena healed one next to you and spoke to you loudly, so you would hear her over the noise, “The Hidden is here!”

You saw the people try and fail to get close enough to the fire to put out the flames, the magic of the Hidden was circling it like a barrier.

“Mother, Lancelot is inside!” You cried out in despair.

She couldn’t believe what she had just heard and looked towards the building again. That look in her eyes… you would never forget it. Especially because she looked at you next and you could see the sorrow in her eyes, the pity.

No…

NO.

It was taking too long.

Now that you were a summoner, would the old gods not protect you from harm too? Did it even matter, when you feared that he was burning? It did not.

Mirena must have seen something in your eyes, because she tried to grab your arm when you jumped up to your feet, she failed to do so and called out to your father. “HELIO! STOP HER!”

You ran to the building, to the scorching flames, the heat of it struck your skin once you got close. And then you were on the ground, Helio held you down as you tried to fight your way back to your feet again.

“LET GO!” You did not even hear what he was saying, you screamed it so many times that your throat went sore.

Helio’s attention left you all of a sudden, a woman emerged from the flames with a crying babe that had not seen a blue moon yet. Matthew came to her aid immediately, as those around witnessed how the flames around her never touched her or the child, instead they turned to ashes once they got too close. He led her away from the danger.

The woman refused to go much further than a few feet from the fire and cried out to the flames, “My child!”

You pushed yourself free and got to your feet, Helio caught you by the sleeve. The flames folded open and away from the entrance of the building.

The Ash Man emerged, took some steps away from the fire, then dropped down to his knees. In his arms he held a babe, the other half from the set of twins belonging to the distressed mother.

Exhaustion struck him now that the power of the Hidden was released by him. He did not let it go fully just yet, the flames that perished turned to ashes much faster than it could naturally happen. The ashes were born from within the flames themselves.

The lack of crying made him fear for the infant’s life. When he looked down, he saw that the infant was staring up at the red glowing marks beneath his eyes, and reaching their tiny hands up to touch.

The moment of innocent joy slipped away when he realized. The veil…

There were whispers shared, and looks of shock. They knew who he was, his markings had betrayed him. And yet… no one attacked him. They had seen a man run into fire to save another. The man who had sought to kill them, was now risking his life to save them. He looked to Matthew, to come and take the babe from his hand, which the knight did and the child was returned to it’s mother.

They saw that he was one of them.

He removed the swords from at his side, and while kneeling in submission, laid them out in front of him.

A surrender. His life in the hands of his people, as it always should have been.

You ripped yourself free from Helio’s hold and hurried over to Lancelot. He lifted his head and shook it, signaling for you to stay back, fearing the reaction the people would have to your action.

Fearing you would be seen as a traitor.

A fear struck woman shouted, “It’s the Weeping Monk!”

“He is Fey!” A man called out loud.

Oh no…

You were standing between him and the crowd that grew louder by the revelation. There were weapons being drawn, you could hear and see it.

You reasoned with the shocked villagers, “Killing him will not bring your loved ones back!”

A woman wished for vengeance, “It will bring them justice!”

The war had made many of them colder, it was understandable yet saddening to see. There had to be a way to make them less apprehensive to give him a chance.

If they wanted this to be a trial, then you would give them the true facts, “Justice? He is Ash Folk! If you kill him, you take the last of them away from the Fey! This is exactly what the Church wants, for the Fey to turn against one another! This is why they stole him, as a Fey child, to torment his mind into believing he and any Fey is evil!”

Mirena kept an eye on all of those around, fearing for an escalation to come.

You continued with your pleads, “His death would mean a gift to the Church and a great loss to our people. If the Green Knight saw the good in him, if the Hidden chose him as a summoner, how can we not give him a chance?”

Some of them were willing to listen to you, some were not.

“He did not give us a chance!” A woman shouted and the roaring of the crowd began again.

“He spared the children.” You countered, “And our future by doing so.”

Lancelot did not move from where he knelt on the ground, letting his fate be decide by his people. Often you looked back at him and saw the shame and guilt he always tried to hide from you. There was murmuring among the villagers, they must have heard the stories from children who survived the cleansings the Weeping Monk had attended. Your father surprised all when he came to stand at your side in this, and risked his reputation as protector of the Fey to help Lancelot.

Helio spoke to the people he had protected for decades, “Is this the message we wish to bring our children?! For when they are taken, they are not to return to us?” He gestured to Lancelot. “This could have been any of us!”

He walked over to a Faun Man nearby. “It could have been your boy, Thomas. The Faun Folk’s gift for archery would have served the Church well.”

The man looked to the people beside him and then to the ground.

Your father walked to a Snake Folk woman and spoke to her, “Or your little ones, Hildegard. The Snake Folk’s talent for making poisons would be very desired by our enemies.”

She put her arms around her children and brought them closer.

Helio looked at the submitting Ash Man. “He was just a boy. Someone’s child, stolen from their arms and thrown into war. Break the child, build the monster.” He turned to the crowd once more and gestured to you, “It could have been any of us, it could have been my child.”

Mirena stepped to Helio’s side while speaking to the crowd, “The Hidden has returned the Ash Folk to us. Who are we to question their decision? We are not paladins, we are not Trinity Guards, we are FEY.” She looked at Lancelot. “If you believe he deserves to die, that he cannot be forgiven, I fear for what we have become.”

The mother of the children he had saved came forward from the crowd and slowly approached the kneeling Ash Man. You let her walk past you, seeing how the villagers watched her with silent awe. The Sky Folk woman stopped a step away from him, and for a moment she only looked at him in silence. The Ash Man lifted his eyes to her face when she put a hand on his shoulder.

“I forgive you.” Her words placed the next brick on his road to forgiveness.

This woman could not have thanked him in a more meaningful way than to give him what he so searched for. It was as if he could not believe she had truly spoken the words out loud. She returned to her children, the forgiveness within her was an inspiration to others.

Helio saw the change in the crowd’s attitude towards the Ash Man and approached him quickly. He grabbed the leather of Lancelot’s jerkin at the shoulder and pulled him to his feet. “Get up!” The poor Ash Man was startled by it. “Walk with me before they change their minds on sparing your life.”

“Father.” You didn’t expect him to help Lancelot at all.

Your father gave you the order as he led Lancelot back to Goliath, “Stay with your mother!”

Helio called out to two of the knights, “See to it that he is back at the fort.”

“Yes, Ser.” They responded and mounted their horses.

There was a strange silence creeping into the villagers as they watched the unburnt Ash Man mount the steed that no longer bore the symbols of the Church.

Helio gave him a low warning, “Leave the hill again without my permission and I will let you rot in the dungeon!”

All he could do was respectfully nod.

When Helio had turned his back and returned to see who else needed healing, Lancelot looked at you.

‘Go’ You mouthed to him.

The knights who were to accompany him urged him to follow, and after seeing your reaction he followed them back to the fort.

You were left somewhat shaken, and you were grateful for the help around you now. Mirena wasn’t too happy after having seen you run towards the fire, and managed to successfully give you a scolding whilst she healed people with you.

The fire had perished with the collective efforts of the village and the knights. And maybe the Ash Man had a hand in getting the fire under control as well, even if he was not aware of it. It was only a few hours before dawn when you returned to the fort, with the help of villagers who so kindly afford to bring you and your family back by wagon. Fortunately so, because this night had taken a toll on the Dawn Folk.

By the time you arrived back at the fort, you headed to your room without detours. You opened the door and by the time it fell shut behind you, you were already lying down on the bed, not even bothering to put the sheets over you even if it was a bit cold.

Faint knocking prevented you from slipping into the world of dreams. You called out quietly for them to enter, it even sounded incoherent to your own ears. The door creaked open, and clicked shut again.

There was no need to look, by now you could identify him based on the sounds and pace of his walk. Lancelot knelt beside the bed and touched your shoulder, “Is there anything you need?”

“Sleep.” You mumbled into your pillow.

A warm quiet chuckle passed his lips, then he was silent for a moment. Almost did you doze off to sleep when he remained quiet.

“Thank you.” He almost whispered, “For what you did for me tonight. I could not have faced them alone.”

You forced an eye open to look at him. “I’m with you, even if it is against an angry crowd.”

A yawn escaped and you closed your eye again. From your pocket, you retrieved the folded page of the book and waved it at him a bit.

Tentatively, he plucked it from your fingers, “What is this?”

“Ash Folk.” It was more mumbling.

He was silent again, probably reading what the page contained.

“Does anyone else know of this?” He sounded rather concerned.

Your eyes opened again. “I do not know for certain. I don’t think anyone has bothered to read the book it came from in years, it was covered in a layer of dust.”

The admission came from him, “What is written here. Is true.”

“About your family?” You risked asking.

He gave a slow nod, “Can we keep this between us? I am not who I once was, here and now is what matters most to me.”

“I promise I won’t tell a soul.” You vowed.

Your eyes grew heavy, all the healing had exhausted your body and it demanded rest. You let your eyes fall shut, feeling how hard it was to keep them open. “I’m so proud… of you… for saving that family. You were incredible.”

Another silence fell, this one lasted for a while. The warmth of his hand landed on your upper arm, it passed on to your skin when he rubbed in soft circles. It was terribly relaxing to experience. The last thing you registered before sleep took you, was the sheets being placed over your form.

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[patterpea]

KinnPorsche Shifter AU Drabble

This sparked into my head after seeing @moerusai werewolf edit. It turned into a shifter fic rather than werewolf fic, but I still wanted to give credit to where my inspiration came from. I've linked the post at the end.

The woman in the corner of the room was gorgeous and clearly interested, and so Porsche had been sorely tempted to approach her. There was an uncomfortable itch that had buried itself into the muscles of his shoulders that, over the course of his shift, stretched unbearably down his spine. Any distraction would’ve been welcomed with open arms, but Porsche knew that it wouldn’t do a damn thing, no matter how enjoyable the sex would be.

Instead he waved off Boss, who was practically perched on his shoulder ogling the woman making eyes at Porsche.

“Careful, your drooling.” Porsche said with a smirk. Boss quickly pulled away, his cheeks flushing in the low light as he wiped the corners of his mouth. Porsche let out a light laugh as he threw a towel at Boss’s head.

“I’m going to take my break. Don’t let anyone go outside.” Porsche cautioned as he pointed a stern finger at the younger man’s face. Boss’s eyes lit up, and Porsche had to smother a groan at the man’s excitement.

“Wait! Are you, gonna, ya know…?” He looked around the bar for any obvious eavesdroppers. “…shift?”

“Boss, come on man, don’t make it weird.” Porsche said, his face slightly pinched. “You’ve seen me shift before, its not that big a deal.”

The glint in Boss’s eyes faded quickly, his hands fumbling with the towel Porsche had chucked at him.

“Sorry, I just… yeah, sorry man.” Boss apologised, his shoulders caving in around his form. Porsche let out a gust of breath, before shooting the man a sympathetic smile. Porsche found it a little weird when people got starry eyed about people shifting. It was like they were imagining themselves in a trashy romance novel, and that the shifter had become the sudden, and unexpected, love interest.

But at least it was marginally better than distain. It was worse in the past, especially in the time of his grandparents, where Humans views would swing violently in their extremes. In one moment the Public’s opinion would be: ‘Shifter’s are the descendant’s of God’s’, and in another it would be: ‘Shifter’s are a cursed race, a bane to humanity’; and back again just as sharply.

Shifters didn’t really care either way, they just wanted to live their lives in peace.

“It’s fine. I just don’t want to scare the shit out of someone. Again.” Porsche said as he and Boss shared a grin. It wasn’t Porsche’s fault that the new guy had tried to take his break 10 minutes early last week. The poor guy had been so shaken that Yok didn’t have it in her heart to reprimand him.

“Go, go. I’ll hold down the fort.” Boss said, his stance relaxing as he reached for a couple glasses under the counter. Porsche tapped his fingers along the bar-top as he made his way out. The itch on his back was starting to turn painful, but it was nothing Porsche couldn’t handle.

With his professional façade still squarely in place, he made his way through the clustered dancing throng where the smell of sweat, alcohol and hormones clogged up his nose. The pain suddenly took a sharp edge, like a thousand small prickling pin’s, somewhere under his shoulder blades.

Porsche burst out of the fire exit and gulped down breaths of air. The alleyway behind Hum’s bar wasn’t clean by any means, but it was a hell of a lot better than it was inside. The air was tainted by the ventilation of the buildings surrounding him, but he could faintly smell the familiar scent of the riverside in the air.

Around the corner, not far from where Porsche preferred to ‘entertain’ any of the ladies and gentlemen that caught his eye, were a few loose bricks lodged in the wall. Using his fingertips, Porsche pulled three out to reveal a small, snug hole. Porsche quickly undressed himself: Shoes, sock, shirt, trousers and underwear. With practised ease, he placed them inside of the hole and balanced his cigarettes and lighter on top of the bundle.

Crouching, completely naked, he slid the bricks back into place. Hiding his clothes like this was a little over kill, Porsche would easily admit, but some spiteful dicks found it hilarious to take off with a shifters clothes. And, well, there wasn’t anything illegal about a shifter going out and about in public in full shift, but it made people nervous.

Plus, trying to get on a packed train as a creature that was twice your normal size was just a pain in the ass.

Porsche stood up and stretched, his hands reaching up to the sky, and closed his eyes and shifted. It was hard to describe what shifting felt like to a human, it wasn’t a sensation that they could easily translated.

Imagine, if you will, that, for some reason, your elbow had made a grinding, crackling sound every time you moved it. It isn’t painful, just uncomfortable, and all day you’ve been stretching it out in various ways. And then it finally crack’s, giving off a much needed rush of relief alongside a slight pinch of pain. That’s what it feels like.

But instead of just your elbow, it was every joint in your body.

The persistent pain in his back took a backseat as he let the shift envelope him fully. His coat of fur tingled for a moment as it came in. It reminded Porsche of new hair growing in after a shave with a razor, sharp and itchy. He felt his chest rumble in glee as his coat warmed him, the cold night air that had felt sharp on his human skin suddenly softened into a pleasingly cool breeze that ruffled through his fur.

The senses were the last to change, and shifting into his form wasn’t so bad; the colours faded away until only dull blues, yellows and greys remained. The alleyway around him had been pitch black, but now he could see down to the end of the wall, the cracks up the bricks and the birds roosting in the gutters.

Smells were a little overwhelming to begin with; sounds too. But Porsche just shook his head, his ears flapping with the movement, as he allowed himself time to adjust. Standing there, now on all fours, he listened keenly to his surroundings.

He could hear the Hum Bar’s music play, muted by the walls only slightly. The vibrations from the bass danced under his paw’s. The sound of traffic rode on the winds throughout the alleyway, and a few scampering paws to his right where desperate rodents hid for their life. He could faintly hear the sound of the river, but he could smell it better than he could hear it.

But he couldn’t hear of anyone around him. No voices, no scuffed footsteps, no laughter.

He was alone.

Finally.

Porsche walked out from his hiding spot, but with his dark fur, his panther form made him look like a shadow come to life. The only thing a human would be able to spot in this dim light, were his sharp, golden eyes.

Porsche reached out his front limbs, claws out, and leisurely stretched out his back, his tail curling high behind him. His chest reached the floor with ease, as his spine curved up gracefully. Rising up on his forelegs he leant forward, and stretched his back legs as he tilted his head up.

His father used to fondly say: ‘All cats, big or small, have yoga tied to their genes’ every time he watched Porsche’s customary stretch after shifting.

Porsche slowly came to a suspiciously placed crate, he batted the corner of it playfully, testing its sturdiness. The circumstance’s that lead to Yok discovering his shifting capabilities hadn’t been the most… graceful.

The important lessons he learned that night were as followed:

1. Don’t drink and climb. Even with improved dark vision, that ledge is further away than you think.

2. He can’t land on his paws for shit when he’s drunk.

3. Alcohol does in fact transfer into your shifted form.

Yok had handled the fact that she almost got squished by a 300 pound animal remarkably well. But since that day a stack of sturdy crates, reinforced by metal bases screwed to the floor, were pressed up against the bar wall. Making a large, Lego looking stairway to the building’s outcrop. It was a little roof that covered up a small section of alleyway where the staff would go for a smoke.

It could hold his weight easily, and Porsche had idly wondered if Yok had the support beams checked as well, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. With little effort Porsche jumped on top of the meter high crates, climbing higher until he reached his perch.

Porsche walked leisurely over the roof, his movement’s smooth and slow. He settled down on to his stomach, paws tucked under his body, as he lay near the edge of the roof. Porchay liked to call this pose ‘loafing,’ something he had picked up from the internet no doubt. Porsche preferred tree’s, as was his natural tendency, and letting his long legs dangle either side of the branch.

But ‘loafing’ works well in a pinch.

Thinking about his younger brother made that pain in his shoulders grow again. The uncomfortable ache was more manageable in this form for some reason, but it was still there, lingering. Porsche knew it’s cause. A shifters mind and body were closely intertwined, more so than a Human’s. Human’s can get sick from stress, and they can get stressed from sickness. Shifter’s weren’t so different, but the stress manifested as pain rather than illness. It was something that both form’s could take equally.

Porchay would be heading off to University soon and Porsche couldn’t be more proud even if he tried. His friends were probably sick to death of him talking about his brother, but Porsche didn’t care. People needed to know how well Chay had done, he more than deserved his dues. Their childhood hadn’t been easy, far from it, but his little brother had beaten the odds. He had made it.

But as they were chatting the other night, Chay full of excited nerves and Porsche practically dancing around in glee, Chay revealed he had wanted to travel after Uni. Wanted to see the world a bit more, see all it had to offer. Porsche’s demeanour soured slightly as Chay went on. Chay going to Uni was one thing, but leaving their home? Leaving Thailand?

Leaving Porsche?

It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Chay would leave. He knew that Porchay may leave one day, but not so soon. Not now all the debts had been cleared and they where finally free of their Uncle’s bullshit.

Porsche had swallowed down the lump in his throat and took a subtle step back. He couldn’t control his reaction, or scent, and he hadn’t wanted Chay to catch on.

“You’ve never mentioned wanting to travel before, what’s bought this on?” Porsche had asked, his voice light and un-accusing. He didn’t want Chay to doubt his wants, but Porsche couldn’t help but be curious about the change.

Oddly, Chay’s cheeks flushed. “It’s just something I read somewhere. They said that if you want to write good music, you have to write what you know. An-And that, to experience more is to know more.”

Porsche ran through his brothers speech with a thoughtful frown.

“Wise words.” Porsche conceded, though he had no clue at all about how to make music. Porchay lit up at his brothers words, his cheeks still adorably flushed as he shot Porsche a toothy, earnest grin.

“Right? He sai– I mean, they said that’s what music is. Sharing your thoughts, your life, with a melody and a lyric. But you have to live that life first.”

Porsche caught his brothers slip, but he was still reeling from the fact Porchay was planning to travel in a couple of years. On his own.

Sure, Chay was a shifter like him, the danger he could encounter would be manageable. But to Porsche, he was still a little cub struggling with his big paws, walking with a stomp and muzzle twisted in adorable concentration.

So, Porsche now lay here, on a roof in the middle of the club district, and huffed morosely. Chay would be fine, but would Porsche? It was selfish, yes, but all his life it was Chay.

Chay, Chay Chay.

Protecting him, teaching him, growing with him.

Porsche pulled his paws from under his body, and tucked them underneath his chin. Panthers weren’t social creatures, but humans were. And that was what a shifter was, a being caught between two forms. And there were aspects of his panther self that manifest in his human form. His tendency to gravitate towards high places was one of his more notable quirks.

But it happened in reverse as well, his human need for people, for family, carried over to his four legged self. It meant he loved to spend his time curled around his people, making sure they were happy. That they were safe.

And one of the pillars, if not the pillar, of his family structure wanted to leave. Porsche’s tail wrapped around his body, the tip of his tail just barely reaching his face. Closing his eyes, he felt like he was in a private bubble as his silhouette became indistinguishable from his surroundings.

He’d let himself have this moment. Soon, he’d shift back and get on with the night. Then he’d go home to Chay and start planning out the young man’s possible ‘After Uni’ journey, with all the enthusiasm it deserves. But for now, he would just enjoy the quiet of the city’s night.

Porsche was only into 15 minutes of his break when he heard the rapid footfalls of humans coming his way. He was reluctant to bring himself out of this peaceful trance he had found himself in, so he didn’t move. Shrouded in darkness and high above their eye line, they probably wouldn’t even notice him, which is slightly ironic considering his size.

The footsteps got louder, they were a rush of frantic sprinting, and Porsche could now hear them shouting at each other. Swearing and stumbling, a box fell off somewhere down the warren that were the back alleys. Clattering and clambering, the humans got closer.

Porsche flicked an un-interested ear.

The men spilled out of one of the alleyways and spread out. Porsche relented, now slightly curious, and opened his eyes to peer down at the showdown in front of him. A man, with a head full of thick hair and a stylish dark suit stood closer to Hum Bar’s entrance. The men after him weren’t so fashionably inclined, but they held out knives and machetes. One even had a gun.

That caught Porsche’s attention. His head perked up, eyes still narrowed to avoid his bright yellow iris’s being spotted. Porsche wasn’t territorial over his space, not like other shifters could be. But he did have a tendency to be territorial over people. If Porsche knew no one he loved wasn’t in the club right now, the urge to protect wouldn’t be there.

But, Yok was in there. Boss was in there. Jom said he’d pop round sometime tonight.

So as the man in the suit crept closer to the fire exit of Hum bar, and the armed men surrounding him did the same, Porsche’s hackles began to rise. Swiftly and silently, he leapt down from the roof the long way around. Out of sight, and clearly focused on the tense stand off, no one saw him.

Porsche crept around the back of the armed men, before stepping out of the shadows towards them. The soft fur between the pads of his paw’s made his approach silent. Well, silent to a Human, but even a shifter would have a hard time hearing him.

With his head down low, he prowled forward. He could only see the back of the goon’s heads, the only face he could see belonged to that of man in the smart jacket. And he knew the very second the man caught sight of him.

His face went from ‘Fuck’ to ‘Oh. FUCK.’ in a blink. His thick eyebrows that had scrunched together in frustration suddenly flew up his forehead as his eyes rounded in shock. The man’s pale complexion only paled further, his lips a sickly peach hue, as his breath visibly stuttered in his chest.

The man with the gun, who stood in the middle of the gang, cackled with glee as he waved the gun carelessly about.

“Oh, is isn’t this beautiful boys? His highness is shitting himself.” The man jeered, as his crew laughed with him, suddenly high on the man’s fear. But the man didn’t take his eye’s off of Porsche, not even when the man levelled the gun at his head.

He knew who the real threat was here.

Clever man.

Porsche switched focus, eyes narrowing in on the man with the gun. Porsche sunk lower to the ground, as his claws appeared out of their sheaths. His breath slowed as he crept closer, ears flickering to catch the men’s cackles of the wall’s and dismiss them in kind.

Sitting back on his haunches, his shoulders wiggling to distribute his weight, he pounced.

Well, pounced was putting lightly. Porsche, in this form, stood at 5ft from shoulder to paw and 12ft from nose to tail. It was less of a ‘pounce’ and more of a ‘launch.’

He crashed into the oblivious man, a growl ripping from his throat as his claws sunk into the man’s back. The man let out a short scream before he slammed to the floor, his breath coming in struggling drags as Porsche put his full weight onto his front paws.

Ears back and fang’s flashing, he swiped a large paw to the crony next to him. The man stood there in shock, his knife still pointlessly aimed towards the suited man. Porsche caught his chest, the muscle in his shoulder rippling under his midnight fur. The man went flying across the floor, landing next to the wall in an anguished cry.

The other’s scrambled back, stumbling and falling as desperate curse’s left their mouths. Porsche turned on them and let out a roar that rattled his chest. His ears were flat, his mouth wide open and his tail swishing from side to side. As a warning, he lunged forward with two powerful swats of his paws.

The uninjured men stood in a semi circle around him on wobbly legs. One of them knelt down, eye’s never moving from Porsche’s form, to crouch by the injured man crumpled over by the wall. A fumbling hand twisting tight into the back of his jacket.

In front of Porsche was gun owner, though said gun had scattered off to the wayside. He was unconscious but alive, his shirt streaked with rips and tainted in blood.

A tense stalemate was drawn. Like a statue, Porsche held his ground with his head level to his shoulders, making his his whole back flat and streamlined. The only outwardly sign of agitation was the subtle, quick flicking of his tail.

Golden eyes twitched from one man, to another and then another, ready for any sign of movement.

With a yell of desperation a man to his right burst forward, his knife at the ready. Porsche whipped around, ready to take the man on but had to quickly scramble back as the man chucked his knife at him. It was a clumsy throw but he was close enough that it couldn’t really miss.

The knife caught the tip of his shoulder blade, but in this form it was as painful as paper cut. He let out a quiet t hiss at the sting. The man’s daring move allowed him to grab his unconscious cohorts arm, and, with adrenaline boosted strength, dragged him roughly across the ground.

Porsche quickly took back his ground, his feral yowl echoing against the walls. The men around him stank of fear, and also faintly of piss.

With a deep, threatening rumble that rose and fell with every breath, Porsche stalked forward. The men, not liking their chance’s, legged it down the multiple alleyways like rats in a sewer. They left with shouts and cut off swears, and Porsche listened intently as their scrambling feet grew fainter and fainter and the sounds of the city were all that could be heard.

Porsche let his shoulder’s sink down as the taught tension eased from his body. Raising his head he shook his body, from tip to tail, as a quick release of his pent up energy lingering in his muscles. Feeling remarkably better, Porsche suddenly heard soft steps behind him.

Porsche looked behind him and watched the man still under his piercing eyes. The man, who Porsche decided to nickname ‘Suit’s’, tried to shuffle around him, keeping close to the walls at hand. Porsche dragged his gaze from him to follow the man’s planned path. The abandoned gun lay a few strides away.

Shaking his head, Porsche made his way over to the weapon. To Suit’s credit he showed no outward sign of annoyance, but his eyelids did twitch in an amusing way. Porsche turned to head the man head on, and slowly raised his back right leg. With a slow quirk of the head and a panther’s version of a grin, Porsche placed his paw down on the weapon and kicked it backwards.

The weapon skidded across the floor once again until it hit the garbage container with a bang. Porsche plodded his ass down and sat in-between Suit’s and the gun, his long tail curling around him as he watched the man in amusement.

“Look.” The dishevelled man said, his palm’s open in caution. “Those men could come back any moment. I need that gun.”

Porsche held eye contact with the man before letting out a eye watering yawn. The man’s annoyance seemed to overwhelmed his caution as he shot the panther a glare. Porsche huffed out a rumble of a laugh, the sight of Suit’s thick eyebrows scrunching together wasn’t giving off the menacing aura he probably thought it did.

“Okay, how about a deal?” Suits offered. Porsche made a small noise of interest which made a shark like grin grow over the man’s face. “You protect me, here, until my men come to get me and I won’t go near the gun.”

Porsche gave him a levelled look before rolling his eyes with a huff. The man seemed to take Porsche’s dismissal in stride as he tipped his head to the side and looked the shifter up and down.

“How about payment? 10,000 baht? 20,000 baht? 50,000 baht?” Suits bargained, letting each offer hang in the air as he waited for Porsche to respond.

Porsche looked at the man incredulously. How exactly did he expect to pay him? Porsche wasn’t willing to shift back to swap bank details, this guy was fishy as hell. And seeing as that jacket hugged his form like a second skin, Porsche greatly doubted he had 50,000 baht on hand.

Porsche approached him, his head held high and ears pricked forward. The man tensed up again, his dark eyes glued to Porsche’s curious gaze. Porsche gave the man a sniff, the smell of sweat, fear and gunpowder radiated off of him. His natural scent was massively hidden under these dominating scents.

Porsche gave the man a once over whilst taking note of the posh jacket. Porsche was sure it was some shade of red, but right was now it seemed to be a murky dark green. A ring sat snuggly on the mans long fingers, and Porsche let out a little noise of intrigue. The man quickly curled his hands into a fist as he twisted it out of sight, but Porsche let it go. It was too gaudy for him.

The watch, however, gleaming under the alley’s dim lights, was more up Porsche’s alley. Not in style, but it seemed evidently expensive. Porsche nudged the man’s wrist with his soft nose, and when Suit’s didn’t get with the program, lightly head-butted his arm repeatedly.

Even though Porsche had been careful with his strength, Suit’s still got knocked off balance.

“The watch?” Suits asked, looking at Porsche intensely. Porsche nodded clearly, watching as a flicker of frustration shuttered over the man’s face. The panther was patient though, he could hear nothing but the man’s breath and rapid heart beat’s, so he felt reassured that they were safe for the moment.

The man let out a gruff sigh as he removed his watch and held it out for the him to take. Porsche softly took the accessory with his mouth. The mans arm twitched as his muzzle lightly brushed on his hand, but he stuck it out.

It took ball’s to have a hand so close to a strangers fangs.

Porsche stepped back, wanting to give Suits some space. The man’s breathing had begun to pick up, and it would look bad on Porsche if his ‘men’ came to get him only to find a 5ft shifter standing over his unconscious body.

The taste of the watch was disgusting on his tongue, the metal tang in his mouth grew as he carried it away. With a low, “bleugh” Porsche dropped it onto the floor.

“Do you even know how much that costs?” Suits asked as he sat down on a crate nearby. He leant against the wall with his hands tucked into his pockets and watched the shifter with a sneer.

Feeling petty, Porsche made sure to catch Suit’s eye before tapping the watch across the floor. The mans eye twitched.

Glee growing, Porsche hit the watch back to his other paw. And back again. Suit’s looked away, jaw tense and lips curled into a thin, tight line. Porsche continued with his playing, the sound of the watch rattling across the floor seemed loud in the city’s silence.

“Would you stop that?!” The man sniped. Porsche let out a huff of amusement, before reaching for the watch with his teeth. Secure in his jaw, he made his way back to his crate stairs, and with a few gentle bounds, he reached his spot on his roof and settled down.

“I paid you to protect me. How are you going to do that if you’re lazing about up there?” Suits called up, his eyes squinting as he tried to distinguish the dark creature against the night’s sky.

Porsche rolled onto his back, his view of the man now upside down. ‘Tough shit.’ His body language seemed to say.

“Fuck sake.” The man mumbled under his breath. Porsche wasn’t going to leave him, he had received payment for a job and he intended to see it through. But he didn’t trust Suit’s as far as he could throw him (which was pretty far, not to brag.) Porsche wanted a quick escape if the man changed his mind when back up arrived.

“You live around here kitten?” Suits asked, his annoyance still evident in his voice. Porsche let out low growl, not an answer but an acknowledgment of annoyance at the nickname.

“…Was that a yes?”

Porsche just chuffed, amused by the Human’s attempts to a question a panther. Who couldn’t speak.

Suits sighed and tilted his head back, his thick ruffled hair cushioning it against the brick wall. It was a shame, Porsche thought idly, he was a handsome man. He would of much preferred to have met the guy over the bar’s counter, made him a drink whilst enticing him into a chat with coy glances, but, oh well. Alley fights and shifted form’s it was.

They lapsed into silence. Porsche listened keenly for any footsteps but he also noted that Suit’s heartbeat had settled into a healthier rhythm. It was still high of course, he was being hunted and was a effortless leap away from a shifter twice his size. Porsche would find him odd if he wasn’t effected at all.

A few minutes later, a clatter of shoes came from the alley to his left. Porsche sat up, his fur standing on end and ready to jump down at moments notice. The steps got closer and closer-

“Sir?!”

A group of men fitted in black, smart suits dashed out of the alley entrance Porsche had been locked in on. Porsche’s new acquaintance stood up, the rigidity of his shoulder softening at the sight of his men. After realising that these Humans weren’t a threat to Suit’s, the shifter lay back down silently, careful to not draw attention, and watched as the guards swarmed the young man.

“Khun Kinn, Sir, are you alright?” The lead man asked as he quickly approached Suit’s. Or, Porsche supposed, Kinn.

“Yes. What took so long?” Kinn said, his voice but a growl. The men cowed slightly under his gaze before the straightened up, their chest’s puffing up.

“Our apologies, Sir, the alleyways made it harder for a safe extraction. We came as soon as we could.” One of the guards explained as they bowed slightly in apology. Kinn waved them off clearly not in the mood for forgiveness.

“The cars?”

“Parked by the riverside. If we take the alley over there, its only a 2 minute walk if we hurry.”

Kinn nodded in thought. He smoothed out his hair, straightened the lapels of his suit before walking towards the exit the man pointed towards. Immediately his guards stepped into formation, surrounding him in claustrophobic closeness.

“And don’t shoot the shifter, they… helped.” Kinn said reluctantly to the guard on his left.

“What shifter Khun Kinn?” A guard asked as he scanned the surrounding’s around them, hand resting securely on his gun. Kinn’s patience, now non-existent after this shit show of a night, stopped the group and whirled around to point to the panther lounging on the roof.

“Up ther- wait. Where did he go?”

Instead of a hulking form of the annoying shifter, and its soul rendering golden eyes, watching Kinn with an amused wave of it’s tail, there was nothing. Just a bare roof.

The shifter, longer then two of his guards put together, had just disappeared into the night without a sound.

Inspiration post, please give it some love. It's so well done.

Dear Anon who sent me an ask, I am sorry. I said it would be 3000 words, but it got away from me and turned into a 5000. I don’t know how this happen.

And as promised: @punchlove-blog . Thank you for your supportive messages, they make my day!

[morriguwrites]

written for prompt: the cops have brought me in for bloodwork for a DWI and oh no my ER nurse is really hot and I'm a fuckup

(cross-posted from my main blog before i created this one. sometimes i write a little dry humor when i'm sick of writing angst or romance)

written for @xenascribbles because it wanted a little humor in its day, and this is the best i can come up with

I just would like to point out that there's no real sane reason to keep a hospital this frigid when it's already 15 degrees outside. I know it's something about keeping germs at a minimum, but rationalizing isn't exactly my forte when I'm busy trying to come off as not-drunk when I’m oh-so-very drunk.

Hammered.

Blitzed.

Gone.

The deputy who has me in cuffs is barely older than I and not convinced. We stood outside for nearly an hour waiting on the warrant to obtain my bloodwork; I'm just happy it's saved me from the holding tank a little bit longer. At least here I can try to catnap some of this booze out of my system.

I still can't figure out how they knew to pull me over. I wasn't speeding, and my constant drunken mantra of "Mustard. Mayo. Stay in the middle" ensured the fact that I was not swerving or drifting in and out of lanes. Hell, I drive better drunk than I do sober.

All I can figure is that they were tailing me as I pulled out of the bar's parking lot. Profiling bastards! This is my first DWI offense and definite overkill on their part. Besides an absolute fuckton of Patron, there is nothing else swimming in my bloodstream.

Speaking of swimming, I must lay my head against the gurney to keep the room from going all topsy-turvy. I wonder if doctors and nurses operate on some kind of backwards fantasy time where two hours really feels like ten minutes to them because besides the triage nurse at the front desk, we haven't seen a living soul since being showed to the room. No skin off my back: the cop gets to get out of the cold, and I'm not sitting pretty behind bars yet. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s against some policy to haul in someone the opposite gender of you. He’s a six foot two giant beanpole of a man, and I’m just a little five foot barely two inches off the ground lesbian woman. What the hell kinda intimidation am I gonna pull on him?

I'm barely drifting off when a feminine voice announces the presence of my nurse. I crack open my eyes with much effort. And whoaaa nelly, this is my nurse. I don't want to diminish her beauty by telling you I was peering through some mighty hefty beer goggles, but Christ, was she radiant.

One side of her short, blonde hair was tucked behind an ear, freckles dusted over a cute button nose, and a bright smile to kill for. Talent truly wasted in the dungeon that is this emergency room, that's for sure. She wraps a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm, and surprisingly her hands are not ice-cold despite the cliché that all medical worker's hands stay sterile and freezing.

"Frann---Frances," I slur from her name badge. "I only know of old men and bulldogs named Frances." The thought leaves my mouth before I can stop it and leaves me nearly biting my tongue in two. Fuck. Why am I the way that I am? Thankfully, she smirks in response and cuts her eyes in my direction. Brown eyes. Beautiful.

"It's a family name. After my grandmother."

"Is your grandmother as pretty as you?"

"Jesus." The deputy beside me mutters the oath under his breath as if he also can't fathom the inner workings of my debauched mind. Trust me, my dude, I can’t either.

Thankfully, she takes this in stride and chuckles. “I think she probably was back in her day.” The blood pressure cuff inflates tightly on my arm for a few moments before giving her back a reading she seems satisfied with.

“So, what brings you in tonight?” She knows, and she knows that I know she knows, but I imagine it must be some hospital protocol to ask the patient why they’re there when we clearly told the triage nurse at the front desk the same thing.

“Deputy High-and-Tight here wants some of my blood,” I slur and jab a thumb over my shoulder to the uniform. “Cop by day. Vampire by night. His delicate policeman sensibilities keep him from feeding directly on his victims. So, he drags them in to the ER to get it “legally””. I heavily air-quote the legally portion. Fucking cops.

My narrative does not phase him one bit. “Go on. Tell her how you got here.”

I roll my head on my shoulders and smirk like the little piss-ant that I am. The rolling of the head bit also makes the room spin a little. “Hey, I might be the drunk one, but I’m pretty sure we got HERE in YOUR car. I could be wrong. Could have been a magic carpet ride.”

My mind instantly goes back to other carpet rides I’ve experienced, and I swing my head back towards the pretty lady in the room. She’s still smiling. That’s good. She’s either laughing with me or laughing at me. Either way, if I have her attention I’m golden.

“I think I blew a point ohhh…what was it again, dude…point oh twelvish. That sounds about right. So on the scale of legality, I was nearly able to drive.” I try to stick up for myself on this one. I really was almost at the legal limit. If I had just spent the few extra minutes fishing out my keys from where they dropped under the seat, I might not be in this predicament.

Speaking of dicks, my friend speaks up again. “Nearly able and able are not the same thing. You were drifting into the median.”

“Bullllllshit, dude. I’m a great driver.” I say this emphatically to my nurse, who nods all very serious-like. I hadn’t noticed before, but she was prepping a sterile butterfly needle and specimen tube and already coming at my arm with an alcohol swab.

“Woah, woah, woah. Can you at least take me out to dinner first?!” I try to hold my arm still to the best of my ability, but it keeps drunkenly fish-tailing itself off my leg to flop beside me on the gurney. She finally laughs out loud at this and holds it deftly with her forearm while her hand stabilizes the spot she’s about to poke at.

“Sure. I’m not a fan of Italian or Chinese buffet food. I like burgers, hibachi, and Mexican, though.”

Wait…what? Did that actually work? I was so not expecting that shit to work.

“As long as you don’t get this plastered during our dinner, yeah, it worked.”

Ho-lee crap. I said that out loud. For the first time during this encounter, I feel a flush of embarrassment ride up my neck. Shit. She said yes. What do I do now? I look to Deputy Bust-my-Balls for moral support, and even he looks super surprised that my plan worked. However, he offers no other encouragement on my front.

“Well, sweet. Here, write your number on my arm since I’m pretty sure my phone is in his pocket. Next week sound good? I’ll probably be downtown for a few days, but don’t let that be an opportunity for you to back out, okay? I’ll be a free woman before you know it.” I rush to get all this out coherently before I lose my train of thought.

She finishes getting the vial of blood she needed, and deftly scribbles out her name and cell on the inside of my arm. I stare dumbly at it as if it were going to grow a pair of legs and walk off. 

“It was nice to meet you. Stay out of trouble!” she states, standing up. Before her cute little tush leaves the room, she jerks her head at the cop. “Don’t give him such a hard time, okay? He’s just doing his job.”

I glare at him once she’s left and laugh to see that he’s also blushing. Feeling real proud of myself, I kick my legs up on the gurney and get comfortable. “You work all weekend, Moustache?”

“Un-fucking-fortunately.” He sighs heavily. If I were him and had to deal with me, I’d sigh too.

“Nah, it’s going to be a good weekend.”

[whatgaviiformes]

🤡✨🤯 (for the ask game!)

hope you're having a wonderful day! 💚

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh? Humor isn't so much my forte, so I had to go looking for where there might have been some light ribbing in my fics. There weren't any that stood out since I lean into angst and all the drama. There's a moment in "In Stitches" where an OC calls Virgil "Tennessee" because he only remembered Gordon's brothers based on a picture Gordon had shown him. And this character is bad with names, so he imprinted Tennessee based on the buffalo flannel and lumberjack vibes. He calls them: “Hollywood, Tennessee, Irish, and Blondie."

“Tennessee!” It is whispered, clearly directed toward him. Virgil turned around to look behind him. With no one there, he pokes his finger into his own chest, and the boy nods. The curls that are hanging down past the cap bounce. “Yes, you.”

“We’re from Kansas,” Virgil corrects, finding a seat adjacent to them, and slipping his satchel from his shoulder and placing it beside him.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉 Ugh this one is so kind, and sometimes it's just so hard to be nice to yourself and your own work. In try to take it seriously, I think I'd tell my writing that it's allowed to be what it is, and doesn't need to be more. I think I've created my own voice well enough that it might be recognizable to pinpoint it as a Gavii fic. And that's a *good* thing, having my own voice. 🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)? I already mentioned humor, but oh lord, there are so many!! I am good at character interactions, which is why I lean into feelings, emotions, and setting. I am awful at action - those that have read my work probably have realized I've *never* written a rescue. I've tossed the boys into situations where a rescue is in the background, but I never write the actual launch, and planning, and action surrounding.

I'm also not comfortable with romance, though I can say I've dabbled. Which is something.

Thanks for the asks!!

[kalims]

Yes, Christmas event :D! If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to request: (10, 4, 2) with Silver 💗 🗡️❄️

I love your work, I'm always excited when you post something new about the twst Boys 😊💘 I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year🎇🌠🌌

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "merry christmas and happy new year to you too! thanks for the kind words :P"

prompts,

twisted holidays event

slow dancing — in the living room.

my wish.. — they overhear your wish about being together forever.

a home, but made out of pillows — in a particularly cold day. you get an idea to invite your lover into your so called fort of pillows, it's warm when you're in it, and even warmer when you're both pressed up against each other side by side.

character. silver

note. malleus is the best friend here fr.. also I literally had to put a divider because I was putting in spoilers for chapter 7.. 😭

slow dancing

for a gift malleus is sure is generous.

while you're sure that his present for you certainly didn't leave a dent in his fortune it was still a little surprising to find an elegantly carved vinyl just waiting for you to take care of.

if a vinyl wasn't enough he even included a set of photograph records for you to listen to, of which are usually classics. most of it fit the briar valley vibe, slow and elegant.

but it did get you in the mood.

you blink as a lovely tune echoes around your walls. it feels like ramshackle is a little less abandoned, excluding the fact that silver was sleeping soundly in your couch that you doubt was comfortable.

I knew I should've replaced it. you sigh, but in all honesty crowley should've funded you for renovation.

the music plays for a while, occasionally repeating a tune which you eventually caught on and started humming in sync yourself. you imagine your surroundings fading into a bright ballroom, how nice it must be to dance with this tune.

silver stirs from his sleep. the very tune that a figure he can't quite remember sang to him. the words are blurry but he can recognize the sound from anywhere.

through blurry eyesight he pins his gaze on someone dancing in front of him. the movements were a little clumsy, perhaps they were out of practice or a first timer. silver though, lilia made sure to teach him ballroom etiquette even if he probably wasn't gonna get exposed to that kind of atmosphere himself.

he can't see them clearly but he can tell that their character seems very warm.

you tilt your head. "silver? sorry. I must've awoken you." you apologize through a small whisper, probably keeping mind of staying quiet for his sake.

wow they know my name. silver thinks. he feels like he never really knew anyone from his dreams but this person is really familiar.

what a strange dream.

"it's alright. I'm more glad to be awake than asleep to be honest." silver sighs. "anyways.. I can't quite remember where I heard this from but it's familiar."

"really? I would've mistaken it as something played for a royal ball or something."

"well. actually it wasn't really meant for those but I think the late queen and king met through that one melody." silver explained, sitting up from his position and rubbing his eyes to remove the sleep. "then it just happened to honor their love."

prince philip and aurora's romance was a strange one. lilia had told him so, but it was almost like he was purposely leaving out details of their life to silver. he never pondered on it though, it's not like he's.. related to them..

an idea pops in your mind.

"you know how to dance silver?"

he shakes his head. "kind of. I've only ever watched people dance."

you smile and extend a hand.

contrary to expectations, silver is really good at dancing. he was a little stiff and unsure at first but he knows how usual dances like these go and he eases up the more the time passes.

you don't know if he was lying that he wasn't that good at dancing or it's like a natural instinct of him to just be good.

silver is slower than most dancers but his movements carry a twinge of elegance rather than sloppiness. for a man who looks stern on the outside he certainly has a way of handling you gently.

whenever you misstep or fall behind in general silver never comments on it. with practice you'll make perfect and it feels like he's trying to imply that he can dance with you whenever you want to get better at it.

oh well. most of the time he never really strayed his gaze, you're absolutely sure he just looked at you the whole time you guys were just swaying in the middle of the living room.

silver liked it cause it kept him awake and it felt oddly intimate.

ㅤ

my wish..

maybe he was face down on a surface. which made you think he was asleep, as in after everyone left you just look outside to the sky and clasp your hands together in a silent omen.

"whoever god is out there.. please let us stay together for eternity.. if not then a long time." you murmur silently and suddenly the sleep in silver is promptly kicked away.

he's definitely wide awake now but you probably didn't notice as you continue to silently stare outside. silver wishes nothing more to just turn to you and cuddle next to you out of joy but he supposes he deserves a moment to take it in.

god forbid if lilia ever found out about the thoughts he's having.. he knows the boys will be going on about wedding bells and frankly? silver isn't confident that he can protect you from everything else yet.

first he must!!! not fall asleep suddenly!!! what if danger comes and he just passes out?

all worries aside he's just spacing out staring into the wall he deemed very interesting in hopes of settling the warmth in his heart.

ㅤ

a home, but made out of pillows

silver usually doesn't like falling asleep at all but he can't help it.

it's almost like he's been cursed or something haha..

the sleep just stays in his bones till it succeeds to make him fall asleep, and only does he feel better when he does rest. it's like staying awake for a whole day and you're unable to resist the sleep when you're laying on a bed.

silver has grown to like sleeping whenever you're around cause the sleep is a 100% better. sometimes he falls asleep outside in the dead of the night after patrolling the dorm and he feels really cold afterwards. lilia finds him usually but he doesn't always.

but with you he always feel warm before and after he wakes up.

with winter practically hitting the school by storm it's much more colder, the only times to feel warm is when you're in front of a fireplace.

the odd thing in the fireplace in your dorm though? was the fact that there was a literal fort of pillows in it.. you even tied a blanket to make a makeshift roof, the rest? all comfortable pillows that anyone would feel like royalty laying in it.

you say something about 'if I ever become royalty my room is gonna look like this'

(well you might be one lmaooo)

I NEED TO STOP PUTTING THESE

silver merely dons a soft look when you invite him inside and he gratefully accepts. he's already feeling sleepy by the sight and he's not even laying down yet!

you pat down the spot next to you and silver doesn't object as he immediately falls down next to you.

he definitely didn't mean to just go down like that it's like his body is failing him 😿

"feeling sleepy?" you hum. wrapping your arms around whatever you can reach in silver.

the fort worked like a charm. it was incredibly warm. you can barely feel the cold and with silver's habit to slumber you totally understand his strange behavior.

silver, in a daze. nods silently. you can tell he's attempting to fight back the sleep with the eyelids that are blinking rapidly. "no.. yes..."

you chuckle. so cute!

"just sleep. that's why I made this you know. for you."

silver dreamt of you that night and he almost forgot that it was winter.

if you already didn't know he LOVES the fort! at some point got disappointed when you took it down but never spoke against you.

wishes to experienced that again.

clarification

in slow dancing I was originally gonna write the slow dancing scene in a scenario format, which I was gonna imply that silver thinks it's a dream. (actually there was already implications in the finished work that he thinks it's a dream but I changed my mind yet kept it there) therefore 'i know you, I met you once upon a dream' was gonna be a quote used once the initial drowsiness wears off him and he realizes he's dancing with you

^ idea stems from that new chapter 7 if ykyk

ngl I'm lowkey projecting the theories into this post HAHAHA

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 24 – MULTIVERSE

Double Time by Sineala

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 123,375 Tags: Action/Adventure, World War II, Fix-It

Summary: Cassino, Italy, December 1943. Special Agent Tony Stark, former Marvels adventurer, is sent to investigate a Cosmic Cube found by the Invaders -- and it's the perfect opportunity for him to rekindle his secret romance with Steve Rogers. But when Hydra attempts to steal the Cube, an inadvertent wish for help leads to the appearance of a Tony from the future of another world: Director Stark of SHIELD. This Tony is a man with a lot on his mind. He refuses to tell them anything about the future, but he seems to know much more than he should about Captain America. And something's happened that's clearly killing him inside, but he's not talking. When Director Stark's failed attempt to return home leads to the unexpected appearance of another visitor from his universe, all the lies come undone. Now there are two wars to fight, and the second one could ruin all of them.

Reasons why I love it: Give me all the multiverse shenanigans! This fic is just downright excellent. Noir Stony is so fucking cute, oh my god, I love them. You should really read the prequel to this one (Allegro, Forte) first, because I promise you won't get enough of their relationship. And when 616 Stony comes crashing in as a stark (haha) contrast to Noir Stony's easy affection, it makes the 616 canon hit even harder. I'm always a huge fan of fics that explore Steve and Tony meeting again in that time between Steve's death and Tony losing his memories, and this fic is one of the best. It hurts so goddamn good. This fic is amazing, and if you haven't read it yet, do yourself a favor and hop to it!

[tobiastotoby]

Chapter 1: Unlikely Allies

The Mojave Wasteland was unforgiving, its scorching sun and treacherous terrain testing even the most resilient souls. The Courier, known as Six, had navigated the dangerous landscape, forging alliances and facing formidable foes. Among those who had joined forces with Six was Arcade Gannon, a former member of the Followers of the Apocalypse.

Their paths crossed at the Old Mormon Fort in Freeside, Arcades first meeting of the courier was unreal to him. Arcade watched as the beat up 6 stumbled into the fort looking for a doctor to help him. 

“ Please come sit here sir I can help you!” arcade felt himself shouting out, this handsome rugged beat up man. He didn't understand the call that he felt to him, this wasteland was no different from most just a little more handsome. That couldn't have been it, it couldn't have only been how hot he thought this stranger was. His thoughts ran wild as the man sat down.

“Thank fuck finally someone helps me! I thought everyone was just gonna let me bleed all over the place!” Gannon nearly exploded with this gruff voice spoke, like he was walking whiskey. Gannon just couldn't contain himself; he had to say something smooth to this man in seconds of meeting him; he couldn't help but develop a crush on him. 

He hadn't been with anyone in a while.‘What if this goes somewhere?’ He really couldn't stop his mind running with fantasies of this man, what his hands feel like, to be held at night by this man. As he prepped everything to fix him up he asked the normal doctor questions

“What happened to you, and what do you need done? What's your name? And can you please sit still?” Gannon almost felt his voice shake trying to keep himself together.

“OH, so what happened was when i got into freeside is that i was helping the kings with some bounty hunter and they tried to jump us with a tourist trap, also my name is 6, OH, I also got shot in the head a while ago and survived have you seen a checkered suit walking around? He's the guy who got me cause I don't remember anything before that." The rambling was damn near incomprehensible for 6 but Arcade was clearly hooked on everyword.

“Jesus christ, uhm……. I’ll start by patching up your current wounds and give you a round of painkillers. Im Dr Arcade gannon btw well i'm really just a researcher but i can still help you, we’re going to need you to stay overnight yo watch these stitches” gannon couldn't stop imaging them laying together as he said this.

“Stay overnight? Ok fine i can do that but am i sharing a tent with someone. I don't normally share. What if I stay in the hotel, can you come with me? I know they have separate rooms, i’ll pay.” 6’s request almost couldn't be real, the romance novels gannon had scavenged over the years and this only happens in these books. 

“Uhm… i can't let you do that, it's a lot of money” Arcade was kicking himself, hard. 

“well …….. How about you come with me, travel around and help me out, I could use a smart, tall doctor around, you can travel and help people with me, plus looking at you isn't so bad” 6 was trying to be a smooth as possible, he understood how gannon could help him and even if he was more of a researcher it would hurt to have someone smart on his side. Charming as he was he was never really the sharpest tool in the shed so to speak, this could help balance his team out. 

“uhm…..Well if i leave….. And……..” Gannon was looking him back in the eyes, the intensity coming from him he almost felt like he could melt right there, taking a deep breath he thought about it, what really was he doing here as a researcher, all the data he got was often not really what he needed but well mercenaries where his only choice but if he were to go out he might really do something “I'll join you, it could help me do my work, and you’re pretty handsome yourself” Gannon’s voice had almost been sucked out of him. 

“SWEET, this is gonna be sick, the rest of the gang is going to love you, Boone, rex, grandma lily, she's so sweet. We are gonna be unstoppable.” 6 was talking about how excited to show him off to his friends, he could feel that this had to become something.

[azurexsnake]

Movie date night with Vash! Which genre are you gonna go for? What snacks do you two have set up? Who snuggles into who more? Do you share a blanket? Give me all the details!! 💜💜💜

Under the cut cuz it long 😵‍💫 (when is it not long honestly)

Oooooh goodness UHM!! I’m not really a movie person, so Vash gets to pick almost always. I’m just not picky with movies as long as it’s not one of those comedies that’s very clearly “man funny” you know what I mean?

Action is fine (altho I specifically avoid Marvel movies like the plague because they are one). Romance. Tragedy. Documentaries. Science things. Movie adaptations of plays. Or that tie into shows/games. Animation. Fantasy. Smart comedies….. very rarely horror/psycho-thrillers cuz I tend not to like them as much, but sometimes. Vash does though and he’s considerate of certain content aspects that I just… don’t vibe with.

My faves are usually just whatever has a strong, high concept or are very emotionally compelling. Like if I cry then I probably am gonna like the movie and he’s very aware of that so there’s always a box of tissues somewhere in the middle of our snacks or beside us just in case.

Most times when we have movie nights though, it’s a marathon night and we make it a whole thing. Basically make a mini cuddle fort of pillows, blankets, and all things cozy in front of the couch. Just a giant nest so we can marathon in peak comfort cuz we go long. Like we’ve done the Pokémon movies. Lord of the Rings. Spiderverse. Old Pixar movies. We’ll binge shows together too if there’s something we’re both interested in. It’s awesome too cuz it allows for so much position freedom and we can move to the couch when we get tired of the floor (when I start getting sleepy but don’t wanna go to bed).

For snacks, we also kinda go crazy… We have a lil stock of specifically movie snacks like Bottle Caps, Runts, Nerd Clusters, gummy sharks, Skittles… Vash always insists on making a bag of popcorn every time that he either keeps in his lap or mine depending on if I’m already sitting on his lap or not. I need a can of pringles and we get a couple bags of the Lindtt truffles in diff flavors for chocolate cuz Vash lowkey loves chocolate. Some Trolli worms. Like we do it up on snacks and then there’s just my box of tissues and a bag for wrappers and stuff off to the side.

We usually put everything away by the third-ish hour though, maybe keeping one or two things out to pick at while we keep going but that’s usually when real cuddle time starts. Settling in for real and just being cozy together. We’ve def gotten, ahem… sidestracked >.> a time or two. If we go into movie night with no real plan for what we’re watching, maybe only a couple movies in mind, and we just end up scrolling to put on whatever by the middle, it’s easy to get distracted ok? Especially when he sits up on the couch and starts rubbing my shoulders. Gg ez clap, I’m officially uninterested in whatever half-baked plot I was trying to get into.

In my defense, Vash is always kind of looking for ways or excuses to give me attention. He genuinely does like movie nights for the quiet together time, but if neither of us are seriously invested after a while, it’s a good opportunity for some… less quiet together time lol as long as I’m not already tapped out, draped up over him like a blanket and very clearly sleepy. He’s stopped asking if I wanted to go to bed cuz I always say no. Tell him it’s comfy enough in his lap, wrapped up in his arms and the blanket he pulled around us both to make sure I don’t get cold. He just waits until the movie ends and moves us to the couch. Sometimes I’m already asleep. Sometimes I’m just barely awake. He always kisses me goodnight though. And I always wake up with him clinging to me <33

[redflagromance]

Barry Side Story: Neither Whole Nor Unbroken (Patreon Exclusive Content)

Access the rest of this story on my Patreon- the first of each character stories will be available instantly for patrons, and two months later for anyone to view. Thank you so much for your attention and support! This is set within the first three weeks of the game.

He didn't usually contract kills. But this hit was outside of his usual sphere of competence.

Barry kept an eye on the criminals and villains bustling through the convention center. There were so many options, if he really wanted to just get the first person who would agree.

But he was patient. He had one person in mind, with the specific skill set that he needed. He'd already reached out on the secure app on his phone. There hadn't been a reply, but that didn't mean anything.

A particular motion over the top of his newspaper caught his eye.

A slight figure in black was visible from his line of sight. She was in the narrow space between two booths, inches away from someone who had no idea she was present. Her posture and body language communicated control and tightly leashed violence.

He controlled the desire to smile. That was her.

As he looked up, her gaze snapped to follow a large, handsome man in red strut down the main thoroughfare. He was too busy chatting with Gene to see the assassin's whole body go tense as she honed in on him. Barry could see the whites of her eyes and her carefully controlled breathing from over here.

Even without seeing the man's face, he'd know that was the social media star, underwear model, and chronically small-time supervillain Hammer from her furious body language.

'She focused on him like a hawk,' Barry thought, bemused. 'She wants to attack him on sight, in a building with thousands of witnesses.'

The passion there always surprised him. Personally, Barry found Hammer to be a delight. But reasonable people can disagree on matters of taste. He broke his stare and cleared his throat.

"Harmes." His junior partner looked over from the other chair in their booth. "Would you mind getting coffee? I'll hold down the fort. I could really use the caffeine."

Harmes stood easily, clearly stir crazy. "Of course. The usual?"

"You know me," Barry agreed idly. "I'm a predictable man."

[twistdtanisha]

Steve’s Unravioling

In the small town of Millville, Steve was known for his unwavering obsession with one thing: macaroni and cheese. Working the evening shift at the local Kentucky Fried Chicken—as if life hadn’t already set the bar low enough—he found solace in his daily ritual of indulging in a warm bowl of cheesy goodness. The velvety texture and comforting flavor were his escape—a delicious embrace after a long day of serving chicken to people who clearly didn’t understand the concept of personal space… or for that matter, proper manners.

Steve’s life took an unexpected turn when he met Izzy, who was charmingly obsessed with macaroni and cheese as well. Their romance blossomed over shared bowls, an eternal love fueled by a common craving that could only be described as truly, tragically cheesy. Initially, Steve wooed her with love bombing—showering her with macaroni-themed puns and poetry that barely fit on a napkin. “You’re the cheese to my macaroni,” he would declare, setting the bar for romance somewhere around public restrooms. His goofiness enchanted Izzy, and she loved him more than anything.

However, as their relationship simmered like a pot of water about to boil, Steve found himself slipping further into his creamy goodness—his obsession erupted into culinary chaos. With each bowl he devoured, Izzy couldn’t help but notice: Steve had willingly entered the pasta abyss. She started to wonder if she was dating a man or a walking cheese wheel. The irony of it all? She loved him, but she loved her mac and cheese too—just not more than life itself.

Then, disaster struck. One fateful evening, Steve arrived at KFC to discover they had run out of his beloved dish. As panic enveloped him like a cheap blanket from a thrift store, he realized—no macaroni and cheese for dinner—or for the days that followed. It’d be the culinary equivalent of facing life without Wi-Fi.

The night wore on, and Steve’s cravings turned into a tempest of irritability. Each passing moment without his beloved dish deepened his frustration, causing him to lash out at the very coworkers who shared his dreary fate—quickly transforming from a friendly employee to an over-caffeinated squirrel. Izzy, witnessing this metamorphosis, did what any rational woman would do: she contemplated her life choices.

When the mac and cheese was finally restocked, Steve devoured bowl after bowl, blissfully unaware that his obsession had morphed into something altogether sinister. Days turned into weeks, with Steve hoarding mac and cheese in a secret, Fort Knox-level freezer operation. He thought he was a culinary revolutionary, but what he really was? A comedy sketch waiting to happen, a man on the brink of a macaroni disaster that would go down in history—along with “The Great Toilet Paper Shortage of 2020.”

But even love can’t compete with a cheese addiction. Seeing him literally turn into a mac and cheese-human hybrid, Izzy decided enough was enough. So, she left, shattering her heart like a cheap plate at a toddler's birthday party. “You’re my mac,” she said through tears, “but you’re not even a shell of yourself anymore.” And with that, she vanished, leaving him to clutch his cheese like a sad child with a security blanket.

As time passed, Steve’s sweet allure of macaroni transformed him into a wretched, hollowed-out version of himself. His hair fell out, giving him the iconic “mad scientist in a cheesy lab” look, all while the townsfolk whispered tales of “Geoff,” the deranged mac and cheese hoarder. The name stuck, an unintentional homage to how he embodied everything ridiculous about obsession.

One sunny afternoon, two adventurous hikers stumbled upon Geoff’s lair, drawn by a peculiar smell that could only be described as either a culinary disaster or the result of an ancient mac and cheese ceremony gone wrong. Peering into the cave, they discovered mountains of dried, crumbling mac and cheese remnants. And there was Geoff, a mere shadow of the man he once was, curled up like a particularly tragic potato.

As the hikers shuffled backward, shocked and fearful, Geoff’s vacant eyes flickered with momentary recognition of what he once was—a cheesy prince—before he sank back into the mac and cheese abyss, lost to a craving that had consumed him whole.

And there it was, folks: the cruel irony of Steve’s obsession turned sitcom tragedy. His quest for indulgence transformed his life into anything but a fairytale, leaving him eternally trapped in a world where macaroni and cheese was king—while he, a precious buffoon, was the unlikeliest of fools.

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 26

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Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: Secrets Of The Heart

Notes: 👀

Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +190K

Chapter:  26/ It’s a secret.

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Once you were done washing, and dressed in clean clothes, you felt a little more human. That such a small thing could lift your spirits was surprising. You left your room to search for the little rascal you had been hoping to see. It took a while to find Squirrel, but you did find him, and your cousin as well, in the kitchens.

Ciro ran up to you at first sight and flung himself into your arms when you knelt down. “You’re really back!”

The joy of him filled your heart. “I am.” You leaned back to look at him “Phew, you’re getting stronger, aren’t you?”

Ciro gestured to Squirrel. “He’s teaching me how to use a bow, it’s making my muscles grow, look!”

He tensed the muscles of his upper arm, as if he was lifting something heavy. Even though you saw no change, you did not tell him this and were proud of him none the less. “Impressive.”

Squirrel stood a bit to the side, clearly waiting for you to call him over and for Ciro to step away a bit. Your cousin did so upon seeing the inquiring look of Squirrel. You opened your arms wide for Squirrel who took the invitation right away, they closed around around him lovingly.

“I have missed you.” You whispered against his hair.

Squirrel swallowed, a tear ran it’s path down his cheek. “I’ve missed you too…”

You could hear the crack in his voice and cradled the back of his head, “I am never leaving you again, do you hear me?” You leaned back to look him in the eyes. “Never.”

“Swear it.” Squirrel demanded.

The look in his eyes made it impossible to refuse. “I swear it.”

With another embrace, the promise was sealed.

Squirrel noticed the bruise to your temple. “Did the Brotherhood hurt you?”

Your mother would not have told him the details of it.

“Not much.” You lied to not alarm the already worried boy. “And in return we burned their fort to the ground.”

Squirrel and Ciro shared an excited look, and right there and then you knew that you wouldn’t be able to leave the kitchen without telling them the whole story. And you did. Ciro considered it one of the better tales he knew of know. Your storytelling came to an end when the children were offered a bowl of soup by the older ladies that were cooking there. You politely declined when they offered you a bowl as well, and left the kitchen.

On your way to find the Ash Man, you ran into Matthew.

“How are you?” He asked. “That can’t have been easy to face your father like that.”

You shrugged your shoulders slightly. “I’ll be better once things settle down after a while.”

“So, the Reaper, eh?” He let a silence fall in the hope that you would start talking about it yourself, but you did not. “That sick bastard. Who would have thought he’d have such plans in that twisted skull of his?”

Matthew was visibly repulsed by the thought.

Remembering it made you feel sick to the stomach as well. “I’d rather just forget everything about his plans.”

“Of course you do. Understandably so. " He put his hand on your shoulder. “Will you come to the celebration tonight? There will be ale and food brought to the courtyard for all. It will take your mind off what happened.”

You doubted ale and a meal would be of much help for that. “I’m not sure I wish to feast.”

He took a step closer, letting those amber eyes achieve what his pleas could not, “Please, y/n? It has been so long since we were able to spend some time together.”

You sighed defeated. “Alright. I’ll make an appearance.”

A broad smile spread on his lips. “Excellent.”

One of the Snake Folk clan entered the hallway you were in, her hurried steps made Matthew step away from you.

“Ser Matthew, may I speak to you for a moment?” She asked.

“Of course.” Matthew said, then turned to you. “I will see you tonight.”

“Good. Uhm, do you know where Lancelot is?” You asked before you’d have to search the whole castle ground.

Matthew’s smile faltered. “I believe he is at the stables.”

It was all he said before he walked towards the woman to hear what she had to say. He could not have made it more obvious that he did not like Lancelot, you hoped that it would change in time.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

It only took you a few minutes to walk to the stables, and you found Lancelot busy pampering Goliath by brushing his coat with some dry straw.

The slight tilt of his head to the side made it known to you that he had caught your scent before you’d even set foot in the door, he did not even need to turn around to know it was you.

“I apologize for earlier. I will knock from now on.” He said.

You weren’t even angry for it, it had not been on purpose. “I know you wouldn’t walk into a room I am changing in on purpose. We’re good, you are forgiven.”

As you came to stand beside him and greet Goliath, you noticed how he kept his attention on the horse and even took a small step away from you. It was so subtle that you could have missed it, but you hadn’t and it was clawing at you.

You wanted to start a conversation to distract yourself from that gnawing feeling, “How did you find my room?”

“By finding you.” He said.

It took you two counts to remember again that he was able to sniff his way around. “I see. Did anyone else see you walk in there?”

It had become so natural to just walk into any room the other was in, but this was different.

A frown creased his forehead, “I do not believe so. Why?”

It was quite winsome how innocent his mind could still be. “Because rumors have been born from less. You just waltzed into my bedchamber, Lancelot. My parents would lose their minds if they saw.”

He mumbled a bit, it was meant as a jest but the undertone betrayed some genuineness, “They can’t have their daughter be involved with the former Weeping Monk.”

You rolled your eyes a little. “It’s not about your past, Lancelot. Remember that I told you that my father kept me away from boys as much as he could? To them, I am still their ‘Little Moon’.”

“Little moon?” He found it a curious name.

“It comes from a secret we as Dawn Folk have.” You carefully said.

The attention left Goliath, the brushing of the horse’s coat continued absentmindedly, “Will you share this secret with me?”

You tsked him, “Don’t be nosy, Ash Man.”

He just kept looking at you, undoubtedly wishing he could read your mind.

At first you tried to ignore it, and when that didn’t work, you stared right back.

His curiosity was strong, “Please?”

It was rare for this secret to be shared to other Fey. “If I tell you, you can’t tell another soul.”

He thought you weren’t serious, but the look in your eyes made him understand that you were, “I swear it.”

The secret spilled from your lips, “Dawn Folk can only conceive on nights with a full moon.”

Little Moon… Because you were the result of an amorous encounter during a blue moon.

He blinked a few times. “Oh.”

“And the Reaper knew this secret. It was why he-” An involuntary shiver went through you. “Ugh.”

He saw you shiver at the memory. “He is nothing but ashes now, he is not on your skin and he will never be again. There is only you.”

Hearing it brought some comfort, every time you thought back to the horrible moment, you felt his hand linger on your skin. You could not let the Reaper hold this power over you, he was ashes and you were still burning with life.

With a deep breath, you took Lancelot’s advice to heart and felt your mouth curve into a soft smile just for him. “I’m glad I didn’t let you die.”

A chuckle passed his lips. “Likewise.”

You almost rolled your eyes again, but then you noticed the changes in his attire and the small one in his appearance. He must have been grooming his stubble meticulously again, it had grown a bit whilst you had been held captive, he had clearly reversed that change. The ruined clothes were gone as well, the aketon was traded for a dark brown leather jerkin and he wore a pale grey shirt under it. All that had not changed was the weapons he had on him.

This was good, he deserved to be treated well.

You reached to touch the new sleeve of his shirt and saw him lean back. That small response gave you great worry, had you done something that made him uncomfortable? You decided to just ask and kept your tone light, “Have I done something wrong?”

It greatly confused him,“No. Why do you ask?”

No?

Then why did he seem afraid of you touching him all of a sudden?

You chased the truth out of him. “I just feel like you seem a bit uncomfortable. And you did rush out of my room so quickly earlier.”

His gaze fell to the ground for a moment, then lifted to your face. “I am not uncomfortable.”

You could tell that there was something being left unsaid. Slowly, you reached for him again and chose to touch nothing else but his cloak. He did not move away when you gingerly waved your fingers in the fabric. With a look shared, you wanted to let him know that you meant no harm. The opposite happened this time, he turned his body in such a way that it closed some distance between you.

“The cloak is new, isn’t it?” You failed to fight away the intrusive thought entering your mind and stunned him when you leaned in to smell the cloak.

He was surprised by the action, but not alarmed.

Your mind caught up with you and the sudden embarrassment hit. “Uhm… gods…sorry…”

His surprise turned into a smile so charming that it got you flustered at the sight of it, “Are you sure you are Dawn Folk, and not Ash Folk?”

The response he had to your strange action was so positive that it made you think that the Ash Folk must have once seen this as a common occurrence.

You wanted to take a step away, before he’d grow uncomfortable after all.

He was the one that prevented it by putting his hand on the back of your arm, “What do I smell like to you?”

The genuine curiosity coming from him was what saved you from feeling awkward.

“I don’t know.” You blurted out.

His head tilted to the side a bit, he did not believe you, “Tell me?”

You were fidgeting. “You smell like the forest. Like the warmth of a bonfire, if that makes sense.”

The answer seemed to please him, as if he didn’t expect you to actually tell him.

It made you recall when you had asked him the same question and got a rude answer in return. “The last time I asked you what I smelled like, you said I smelled strange.”

He had not forgotten the ill response. “You did, because I had never smelled one of the Dawn Folk before.”

Alright, that sounded like a plausible reason.

You dared to ask him again and hoped for an honest answer, “What do I smell like to you?”

The boldness he displayed, when closing the small space between you and dipping his head down to your neck, had you lost for words. His nose never touched your skin as it followed the curve of your neck up to your jaw, the only thing that did was his breath. A tremble in your legs began and spread to the rest of your body, you tried to hide it.

He was able to answer your question now, “The night’s air after rain.”

The scent was how he imagined freedom would smell like.

The hot flush you felt crawling up your cheeks made you tilt your head down. Was this the Hidden’s doing? Or was this… him?

A small touch to your arm was his way of pulling your attention to him again. He was watching you curiously, every small detail of your expression was caught by his gaze, like he was reading a book.

“So, not ‘strange’ then?” You managed to form a sentence.

“No.” His voice had lowered.

Taking a step back would have freed you from the influence his presence had on you now, if only your mind was convincing enough to make your feet move. “The celebration tonight, uhm… will you make an appearance? After all, you did kill the Reaper and gave the reason for this feast.”

Was that an invite to accompany you?

He thought it better to keep his presence discreet. “I think it is best If I stay in the room I was given tonight.”

You wanted to change his mind. “But-”

He explained his reasoning, “I will not jeopardize the chance I was given here. There will be other days in the future where I can be part of a feast. For now, I am content to be where you and the boy are.”

Maybe the people weren’t ready for him yet, or perhaps he was not ready for the people…

You would not push him further. “I will put one of my books in your room, you’ll have something to read at least.”

He hummed approvingly. “That would be kind.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat was what finally made your feet decide to step away from him.

Mirena was standing by the doors and looking between you and the Ash Man for a moment, then spoke to you, “There you are. I was wondering if you wanted to prepare for the feast with me? Like we used to.”

She was speaking of the days when you were younger and smaller, and stealing her gowns that never suited you whenever there was as much as a rumor of a celebration or joining. Of course she did not mind and let you play freely, and when you got older the dresses made for adults finally began to fit. There were many times where you would spend time helping each other look immaculate for special occasions. But it had been so long ago, and trousers offered an advantage in many situations.

“Mother, I’ve not worn a dress in years.” You chuckled nervously.

And you had just put on fresh clean clothes…

Her smile faltered a little. “Of course, I understand.”

Seeing her response made you realize that maybe she just wanted to relive a memory with her ‘Little Moon’.

Even Lancelot was looking at you to see if you had seen your mother’s heart crack a little.

Before she could walk away, you hurried after her. “Wait! I- uhm… I don’t know if my old dresses still fit me. It’s been so long.”

Mirena had taken that into account, “Oh! Worry not, Sweetling. I have something for you.”

Ah, of course she would have something up her sleeve for you to wear.

The enthusiasm was dripping from her face as she took you by the arm and walked away with you.

When you looked over your shoulder, you saw Lancelot send you a sympathetic look.

Like you didn’t know he would laugh later if he saw you in a dress…

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

What began as something to please your mother, ended up being a memory to cherish. After Mirena insisted on using her magic to heal you, the bruises had vanished from your skin. She was pleased with the result until she noticed the scars on your back while you were changing into the dress.

Even though the Dawn Folk could not heal scars, she still wanted to try but you refused to let her use any more of her energy. While she helped you put the dress on correctly, considering you had began with putting it on backwards, you told her where the scars came from.

Unlike your father, she always patiently let you tell your story, even when tears were in her eyes. When you saw them, you had wrapped your arms around her. You were her Little Moon, but she was the world to you.

And she was the only person in the world who could make you want to wear a dress.

She had given you a new one, the linen had your favorite color and the neckline was more revealing than what you were used to.

One look in the mirror of your room and you had to admit that perhaps gowns did suit you after all. The dress was simple, but it fitted your form and flattered your curves.

You would never forget the look your mother gave you when you decided to just wear your belt and sword with it. She got you in the dress, she had won her battle and chose not to fight that one. After all, her daughter was a fighter at heart.

Whilst you were viewing yourself in the mirror, a knock sounded at the door.

Mirena called out and young Squirrel waltzed into the room, she must have taught him to knock…

He was stunned to see you now, “I thought you never wore dresses?”

It made you self-conscious about the dress. “I haven’t worn one in a long time.” You made a small slow turn while asking, “What do you think? Should I wear it for tonight?”

Squirrel pursed his lips for a beat, then nodded with approval. “It’s nice.”

Nice? It was as close to a compliment this cheeky child would probably get.

Your confidence returned. “Good. Good…”

He came closer. “I saw there is ale being given out in the courtyard. Can I have some? I tried asking but the other knights won’t let me.”

Mirena looked at him incredulous. “Young man, you are too young to be drinking ale.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from letting out a chuckle.

“Y/n?” Squirrel whined.

Oh, you hated to disappoint him. “I’m sorry, Squirrel. Mother is right. But I’ll tell you what, I won’t drink ale either.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised and doubtful.

“I swear it.” You said.

Squirrel felt less excluded now.

Mirena walked over to the boy. “Come, there must be something else you would love to eat and drink.”

Squirrel followed her as she walked out of your room. You took one last look in the mirror, then plucked the book you had set aside for Lancelot from your bed. It was a small walk to the room he had been given, you placed the book against the closed door knowing he would find it there.

Your walk continued for a while, the doors of the fort were open and the sound of a violin welcomed you into the courtyard. From what you could see, a lot of people were present and even the gate was open to welcome those of the village.

A warm large bonfire gave the courtyard a mystical appearance now that the sun left the land in the hands of the moon.

You spotted Squirrel and your mother while she was helping him and Ciro acquire the food they desired.

No ale is what you had promised, and after some searching you found one of the village offering warm sweet tea to those who sought something to drink.

Some villagers had not come empty handed, it made the night even more meaningful to see that even in these hard times the Fey were not afraid to share.

It gave you hope to see it.

You stayed away from the dense crowd and kept to the walls, just enjoying the atmosphere. The news of the Reaper’s death, and the one who caused it, traveled through the castle.

Matthew found you close to the gatehouse and came to stand beside you. “You came.”

“I knew it would make my mother happy.” You informed him.

He was as charming as could be. “Not just your mother, I’m happy to see you here too. And by the gods, you look beautiful tonight.”

Had you heard him right?

“What?” You blurted out shyly.

Matthew had no problem repeating it a little slower, “You look beautiful tonight.”

You blinked a couple of times and took a sip of your tea to wash the nerves down. “Thank you.”

He looked around himself, “Your shadow isn’t with you tonight?”

You looked at the ground and found your shadow, “My shadow?”

“The Ash Man.” He clarified. “I have not seen him tonight yet.”

The knowledge that Lancelot had decided to remain in his room tonight did sadden you, even if you understood why. You couldn’t help but pout a bit. “He thought it was better to stay in the castle.”

He sounded almost happy about it, “A wise choice, considering his past.”

It bothered you to hear that he was glad Lancelot wasn’t here to celebrate, but you couldn’t truly blame Matthew for not trusting him yet.

Matthew voiced his opinion, “I had my suspicion that he was off the Church, but I can’t believe you brought the Weeping Monk himself here. Why didn’t you tell me when I met him?”

To you it had been the right choice. “I didn’t know if I could trust you to keep it a secret, it’s not a small one to keep.”

He took it personal. “You trust the Weeping Monk, but you don’t trust me to keep a secret?”

It was hard not to get a little defensive. “He’s not the Weeping Monk anymore. His name is Lancelot.”

“Fine…” Matthew yielded. “Helio nearly lost his mind when he learned that the Monk had fled and taken his daughter with him.”

After all these years, you never thought that he could get on your nerves but you remained patient. “He didn’t take me with him. I only helped him escape, we didn’t expect to be captured by the Brotherhood.”

“You helped him escape.” He chuckled. “I am impressed with how much you have changed. You used to be quite shy, you know? And now your freeing prisoners.”

It was nice to hear he liked the change in you. “I guess I just stopped hiding who I really am.”

Because the people who mattered most had accepted you just as you were.

“That you did.” He turned to you, bringing his hand up to your shoulder where it grew brave enough to take place on the bare skin. “I hope to see more of this other side to you.”

You turned your head to look at his hand, he seized the moment to kiss your cheek and linger. It was so unexpected that you could barely believe it was happening.

Matthew heard his name be called from the crowd and politely excused himself before he headed to the man who had called for him.

You watched him walk away in bewilderment, the melancholic whispers of the Hidden sounded like they came from behind you and you turned to look.

It was just a group of Feys walking through the open gate into the courtyard, nothing odd to see. And still… the Hidden had lured your eyes to look. You kept looking at the gate for a moment and drank your tea at a snail’s pace while your thoughts were elsewhere.

Never before had Matthew acted flirtatious to you, not like this, he meant it now.

But deep down it bothered you that he had never done so in the past, while you had been so obviously infatuated with him that you almost felt embarrassed to think back to it. He had broken your heart when he had carefully rejected you.

And now he had complimented you and kissed your cheek, but… it had not been like you had thought it would be.

Were those books, who spoke of romance, wrong? Was a kiss by the one you loved not meant to fill your heart with joy? To make you forget how to breathe properly?

You walked away from the gatehouse and watched those around you enjoy the feast. A woman, who played the flute, had joined the violist. The Fey welcomed this evening with open arms, some music and relaxation would surely lift their spirits. Your cousin and Squirrel were munching on some pastries when you came to stand by your mother’s side. Right away she fumbled with a side of your dress that must have looked imperfect to her. You resisted the urge to swat her hand away when you saw others stare at the display curiously. Of course Squirrel and Ciro found it hilarious to see.

“Mother, please.” You tried.

She didn’t listen and only stopped when the dress fell over your form perfectly. As you looked around yourself, you saw your father speak to Matthew, and they were looking at you.

“Are they talking about me?” You couldn’t resisted asking your mother.

Mirena had already noticed the conversation her husband was having with the newest knight. “I do not know. Do not worry, Little Moon, ignore your father.”

You heard her mumble ‘like you always do’ between her teeth.

She was right, you didn’t want to ruin your good mood by worrying. Instead you stayed with her to help keep the children entertained.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

It was past midnight when the feast came to an end. The tired villagers returned home and most of those living in the castle had gone inside. You stayed out a bit longer, cleaning up the courtyard a little. With a basket carried at your hip, you tossed the rubbish into it. After that was done, a woman still present took over and shoo-ed you away. You thanked her and and decided to stay out in the open air a bit longer.

You walked away from the fort and passed under the gate, the view of the coast and sea in the distance was spectacular from the hilltop.

The trunk of a fallen tree on the grass offered a nice place to sit. The nice cool breeze of wind passed through your dress easily, it wasn’t too cold yet for fall. Because of the leaves rustling over the grass in the wind, you had not heard the footsteps approach. It was the sudden touch to you left shoulder that alerted you, you jolted a little and quickly looked behind you. A glimpse of his cloak was the first thing you saw, next you felt the touch against your back as it glided to your right arm.

“Lancelot?” You were glad to see him, he must have waited until the feast was over to set foot outside tonight.

He put his hand on your right shoulder and left it there until he sat down beside you, when it moved away it did so by gliding down the back of your arm.

Curiously you watched him, the hood of his cloak sat crooked over his head and you couldn’t resist readjusting it for him. “I’m afraid you missed the feast.”

Finally, he looked at you, hearing your teasing tone.

There was a faint scent of ale coming off of him. Was he drunk? You could not really tell, you’d never seen him so. And he did not seem like the kind of person to drink much or at all, perhaps little was needed to cause the same effect on a person who lived a sober life.

You fidgeted with your hands at his silence, they had touched so many over these past few months, too many. Lancelot placed a hand over them, then chose one and let his fingers glide against your palm to hold it. Your hand was still as a rock, feeling the pads of his fingers lightly push into it.

This felt so foreign, the way he just gently held your hand. Such a small gesture and it made you unable to look at him. It took you near a minute to decide to close your hand around his fingers a bit, a signal that you were not against this.

His knee touched yours, he moved to sit a little closer. Step by step, he bend the line that had always been there between you. It wasn’t until he quietly spoke your name that you looked at him again.

The hold on your hand got firmer but never painful. Those blue eyes stayed on yours for only a blink, their attention fell lower. It almost caught you off-guard when he leaned in, quickly you turned your head away to avoid what was about to happen. His stubble had skimmed over your cheek, and he remained so near.

“Don’t.” You couldn’t believe the situation you found yourself in. “You are drunk, you’re not yourself.”

He cupped the right side of your neck slowly, as if he was handling a frightened bird, his nose buried into your hair. Even now, when he was not himself, you still trusted that he would not hurt you.

“I cannot lose you.” He sounded distressed, the ale did not help it make sense. “Not you…”

You plucked his hand from your neck and leaned back, getting worried by his words, “You won’t. Why would you think that?”

The hand you had used to pluck his away, was held by him again, he was desperate to keep the physical connection. His other hand came up to your chin, and you froze when his thumb touched your bottom lip. You caught yourself wishing there was no ale in his body, but there was and it was overriding the inhibitions he had always had.

The intoxicated Ash Man gave you another surprise when he decided to lean in and put his lips to your temple. The whispers of the old gods were calm, and assured you that there was nothing to fear. He lingered, and you could not pretend that you did not feel your heart increase it’s rhythm.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the gentle caress of his hand on your jaw caused a tremble. “Lancelot…”

His voice was unlike you had ever heard before, deep and filled with conviction, “Cor meum jungatur vobis. Inquietum est donec perveniat ad te. Est tuum.”

You did not understand what he was saying, Latin was not a language the Fey chose to learn, it was considered the language of the Church. It had sounded quite like a prayer he whispered in your ear.

“I do not understand.” You gently told him.

His nose touched your temple. “One day, you will.”

The sound of a ceramic jug breaking sounded from the courtyard and you were on your feet instantly, it betrayed how the nerves were flying through your body. You could faintly make out the voices of Squirrel and Ciro and didn’t have to guess what they were up to. Lancelot dropped his eyes to the grass when you looked down at them. You tried not to think too much of what had almost happened between you and him just now, he was drunk and not making much sense, especially when he started to talk in the odd language.

“I think Squirrel and my cousin are trying to carry off some ale that was still in the courtyard.” You told him, seeing how he looked pretty distracted. “I can help you to your room?”

He shook his head and rose to his feet.

You were a bit worried by the way he swayed on his feet a bit, “Are you sure?”

With a gesture of his hand, he let you know that he’d be alright and walked back towards the fort. You followed a few steps behind the stubborn oaf, spotting the children in the courtyard while he managed to find his way to the door of the entrance.

Just then, your mother opened it, undoubtedly to see where the little rascals had vanished off to. She almost bumped into the Ash Man and stepped aside to let him pass, he acknowledged it with a bow of his head. Mirena made eye-contact with you, having seen the state he was in. One look from you and she knew it was best to see to it that he found his room safely while you handled the situation with the children.

You would need to have a word with him about what happened tomorrow.

Had it just been the ale? Would it truly cause a former monk to try and kiss a woman?

It had to be. Still, it was no proper excuse for it.

You looked around the courtyard for Squirrel and Ciro, finally finding them hiding behind a stack of barrels.

A broken jug of ale laid shattered on the ground not far from them.

“Well then. Must I ask?” You tapped your fingers on one of the barrels.

They looked up at you like they had seen a ghost.

“We… found the jug and wanted to bring it back to the kitchen.” Ciro tried.

Impressive, he almost sounded honest, Squirrel’s talent for deceiving must have been rubbing off on him.

“You wanted to bring it back. Full or empty?” You shot the question at them.

Ciro looked a lot less confident now, but Squirrel was thinking fast.

“Full, of course. We wouldn’t drink ale, we’re too young.” Squirrel sounded like he was explaining it to an infant.

“Uhuh.” You bit your tongue, choosing not to battle on this because you knew you might not even win against the witty child. “Good. I am glad we understand each other. Come, let us head inside. You should have been in bed by now, you won’t be well-rested tomorrow.”

They were already relieved that you ‘believed’ the lie, and did not put up a fight when you walked them to the room they shared.

From the looks of it, your mother had made sure Squirrel had a proper bed too. She always went the extra mile for the little ones. Fatigue gripped hold on them at the sight of their beds, and they slumped towards them. Ciro sat down and crawled into his bed, tucking himself in with the sheet properly. Squirrel on the other hand impressed you by letting himself fall flat down on the bed and managing to be comfortable that way. After bidding them goodnight, you left their room and headed to yours.

On your way, you passed by Lancelot’s door and saw that the book you had placed against his door was gone, he must have found it quite quickly considering your scent must have been on it. There was a brief second were you wanted to knock, to get the reason behind him trying to kiss you. But tonight you would not get the truth, not when he was like this.

No, you would have to let this haunt you until tomorrow when you could get a coherent sentence out of him. You walked away from his door and headed to your own room. On your way there, you couldn’t help but overthink the situation. It was upsetting, especially because you hadn’t seen it coming, not from him.

No warning, no explanation.

And he had even tried to speak to you in the language the Fey frowned upon, which made even less sense. What was so hard to just tell you that he had to resort to it?

Now you would have to try to sleep with all these questions bothering you, while the ale in his system would surely get him to sleep. By the time you were in your room, it bothered you so much that you slammed the door shut behind you a little, not caring who it woke in your hallway.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

As every soul on the castle was presumed to be asleep, in the shadow cloaked hallways the Ash Man found his way to your chambers.

No amount of ale could stop the scent of you from being found by him, even the old gods offered him their aid for it. Bound together, by destiny and soul. Upon arriving at your door, the spark of courage left him.

A drunken apology could make matters worse…

He turned upon catching the Fey scent coming from behind him. A man that he could identify as one of the knights stood at a distance, watching him, waiting to see if he would cross a line. Your father had commanded them to keep an eye on him, and they were only following that order.

After being so graciously offered sanctuary, he had done this…

Shame and guilt settled inside of him. He thought back to the moment Mirena had struck him, and why. After everything, even when he thought he was becoming a better man, he had behaved selfishly.

He stepped away from the door, leaving the watchful knight without a reason to believe that you would be disturbed at night by him. He would not taint your reputation, not after risking it for his sake before.

The Ash Man returned to his own sleeping quarters quietly, which proved a challenge as the ale was starting to get the upper hand on his legs again.

But he made it.

A night’s rest would bring him no solace after today. He had seen the interaction between you and Matthew as he was walking near the gatehouse to come and join you at the feast for a while. Patiently he had waited in the discretion of his cloak and the shadows, refusing to be rude and interrupt the conversation you had with the knight.

Now he wished that he had, so he would not have had to see you be courted by the man.

To see it, hurt more than all the prayers left unanswered in his life. The sight of it, worse than the dagger he had taken to the heart. He had tasted the ale at the feast to wash down the bitter taste of the memory. How had he not seen this earlier? That the one he trusted most, was the one who could hurt him so?

It was not your fault, he knew this. He was the fool who had placed his heart into hands that did not even knew they were holding it. And until tonight, he had not known it either until it was shattered.

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