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viridescentelf · 5 months ago

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In your debt - Part 3

Young Halsin x Reader

Art belongs to @ozumii-fucking-wizard, I also used their Young Halsin headcanon list as a reference :) i love the idea of him being a bit hotheaded in his younger years hehe

Find Part 1 and Part 2 here.

Slow burn, sorry. But the next part will get spicy, I promise. >:D

Song in this fic:

Warning: Swearing

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You awoke on a huge matt, covered in a thick quilt. Your eyes adjusted to the dim light as you scanned your surroundings. You were staring at a large tent peak above you, which swayed sleepily in the wind. You turned your head slightly, examining the area further. Smoldering embers cracked softly in the middle of the room, with various tiny cushions placed around it. A kettle peeped, hovering above the low fire, green steam escaping its mouth. Adorning the tent were many little trinkets: dreamcatchers, windchimes, wooden toys and engraved clay pots decorated the walls and small shelves. The ground looked slightly sandy next to you, furthering the softness of your position. The matt was far too big for you, so was the quilt. You looked like a little mouse had sneaked into the cat’s bed.

You noticed a stinging sensation and remembered what happened with the goblin.

Your hands drifted under the covers to your pulsating side. A thick piece of rough fabric met your fingers and as you pawed along carefully, you realized it was bandaging. The pain was dull, but made its evil presence known.

That’s right. You were with Halsin. In his village.

You had no idea what else the dreamy druid had done while you were knocked out. You must’ve looked like a corpse.

You noticed you were wearing different clothes. This long sleeve tunic wasn’t yours and neither were the wide pants you spied while lifting the covers.

Had he…had he changed you? You blushed at the thought.

Had he seen you naked???

You attempted to sit up, quickly, which turned out to be a mistake. Deciding to prop yourself up carefully, you hovered over your unwounded side, relying on the strength of your arm. You eyed the large mug of water close to you, bringing it hastily to your dry lips.

It tasted so clean. You realized how gross the water really was back in the city.

You finished the water in a few gulps and placed the mug back where you found it.

Just then, your ears picked up a distant conversation. The voices were agitated. You weren’t able to get up and walk towards the entrance, so you strained your ears to listen carefully.

You recognized Halsin’s voice, who sounded exceedingly frustrated.

“So, your solution is just to ignore the looming threat? How on earth can you be so thick?”, he growled at an unknown male speaker.

“That is no tone to take with me, novice. You’re in no position to question my decision”, the other man answered, his tone so low it made the hairs on your arm stand up. Who was this?

You heard repetitive, thudding footsteps. It sounded like someone angrily pacing.

Halsin spoke again, his intonation louder than before: “If they tried once, they will do so again. And with more devastation. More goblins! They want our children for some sick game and you would rather do nothing!”

“The only person making that claim is lying halfdead in your tent. You do not know them. I do not know them! I will not send a group towards certain death because a stranger made a groggy statement!”, the other man met Halsin’s tone, with warning etched within.

You felt your stomach drop. The terrified faces the children had made while Izick was fighting you flashed before you. You knew you were telling the truth, but how could they know that?

“Uncle, they are the reason our children are safely returned to us!” There was a slight pause and you heard him step towards the tent, perhaps pointing. “If they hadn’t intervened, the drow-“

“Silence!”, the man Halsin addressed as uncle bellowed, the echo reverberating through the area.

“I do not care what could or would have happened. I care about the facts of the situation. It was YOUR task to watch over them. And YOU left Zacharia alone so that you could feel like a hero. Zacharia’s death and the possible fate of your brothers’ and sisters’ is on your conscien-“

A mighty roar interrupted the uncle’s chastising. A second followed with thundering thuds and tremors. Slicing through the chaos, you heard an assertive, older woman’s command:

“ENOUGH! Halsin, Dafydd. Stop this nonsense!”

The vibration in the soil ceased slowly, with one still insisting on remaining.

“Halsin…!”, she threatened.

You felt the shaking of the earth stop, finally but reluctantly. With vicious pants from both of the arguing parties, you heard the woman speak once again:

“Halsin, go check on your patient. And you, Dafydd, go do something you deem important. We do not have time for pointless squabbles like this.”

A pause and finally a few grunts of agreement. You heard footsteps leaving and two sets walking towards your tent.

Why were you panicking? It was ok for you to be awake, right?

You hastily pulled the covers over half your face as you lay down a bit too bluntly. You didn’t want them to know you were listening.

The tent flap slid open and you saw Halsin hold it open for the other person.

An older elf woman walked in, her long grey hair tied neatly in elaborate braids. She had exceedingly kind, hazel eyes that met yours with a soft twinkle. Her dark skin glistened with tiny drops of sweat. Her attire was rather casual, it looked like she spent a lot of time outside, judging by her sun kissed, wrinkly nose.

She smiled and you returned it carefully.

“Ah, so this is the savior”, her voice matched the one who had scolded the two men before. Halsin didn’t say anything, but grumpily stomped to the other side of the tent to grab a piece of wood. He started aggressively carving at it with a knife that looked too small for his hands.

The elf lady rolled her eyes and kneeled beside your head: “How are we feeling this morning, duckling?”

You cleared your throat, blinking a bit confused at the last word, but sat up slowly, while she helped you up: “Uh… I think… ok?”

Your words sounded unrecognizably hoarse.

The older elf conjured a gentle, yellow light from her palm and lay her hand on your shoulder. Closing her eyes, you felt a wonderous thrum from her touch.

“Mmh, yes. Healing slow but nicely”, she opened her eyes, winked at you and turned her head towards the tall druid, who was still chopping viciously at the tiny block of wood.

“Good thinking with the ginkgo leaves, son. Their organs are healing quickly”, she kept her gaze fixed on him. He met her eyes briefly, let out a rough “Hm” as a response and continued shaving.

You looked at Halsin, too. His furious aura engulfed the entire tent. His brows were frowning so intensely that you could barely see his calming eyes. This was his mother? They looked nothing alike. And she was so much older.

The woman turned back to you, deciding to ignore the brewing giant in the corner.

“I’m Anwen, elder druid of the High Forest. I assume you know who the sulking moose over there is”, she gestured vaguely at Halsin, who grunted and continued whittling more aggressively.

You nodded, trying to stop yourself from laughing. The hissy fit was a bit comical coming from such a large man, but you understood where the anger came from.

“Y/N…” you lay a hand on your chest, indicating yourself. “Thank you for … uh…” you were looking down at the clean garb you were wearing.

Halsin blushed excessively in the corner of your eye, turning to face the tent wall.

Anwen grinned: “Well, well, now I know where my sleepwear went.”

You stared at her anxiously.

“Oh, don’t worry. You need it more than I do right now”, she placated.

Your eyes wandered to the back of Halsin’s head. You could see the blushing had increased. So, he had changed you…

“Duckling, I am beyond thankful that you came to my children’s aid. They all won’t stop talking about you and your rescue. I’m sure they’d be happy to meet you properly, once your strength allows”, Anwen tugged at your cover, pulling it over you more and forcing you to lie back down.

You obliged.

“Halsin tells me you overheard something from the goblins. Something about the children…”, she patted the cover close to your chest.

You explained what you had heard before you intervened. Elder Anwen listened intently, nodding along as you described the attire the goblins were wearing to the best of your ability. She thanked you kindly and exited the tent, addressing Halsin to join her in prayer at sundown. This left you alone with the handsome druid.

He finally placed his craft on the sideboard next to his carving knife, leaning against the board and letting out a deep, irked sigh. You didn’t know what to say, so you just watched him.

The silence lingered between you for a bit, when he finally turned to you and tried to smile.

“Sorry. I’m glad you’re doing better.” He approached the side of your matt and squatted down. “I should change your bandage…”

You nodded after realizing you had been staring at him for too long and pushed the cover off your upper half. Hesitating slightly, you lifted the tunic to reveal your nursed belly.

Halsin sat down on the sand and started taking the binding off carefully. You let out small hisses, as he pulled the adhesive off your wound. You saw leaves sticking to the side of the band that lay directly on the most sensitive area. These were presumably the ginkgo leaves Anwen had mentioned before. He grabbed the teapot from the fireplace and filled a goblet with steaming, green water.

You beheld his work in silence, as he dabbed a soaking cloth on your abdomen. He conjured more healing magic with his hands, which hovered over your belly for some time. The comforting humming of his incantation joined the low purring of the fire. The dull light of the tent danced across his face, which seemed absent and deep in thought.

“Thank you for…all of this...”, you cut through the quiet, realizing you hadn’t really thanked him for saving your life.

Your words seemed to snap him out of something. He blinked hard and turned his head towards you, as his hand floated above your stomach.

His smile grew warmer and your heart skipped a secret beat: “You needn’t thank me. It’s the least I can do.”

He returned his attention back to nursing you. Watching him work, you felt a gnawing in your throat that you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“… are you alright?”, You had been wanting to ask about the conversation you overheard since he walked in.

Halsin hesitated for a moment, his eyes flitting from your face to his hands.

“It’s nothing you should concern yourself with. You’ve done more than enough,” he murmured.

You thought about the words the other man, Dafydd, had chastised the young druid with. Halsin seemed to be struggling with immense guilt and a need to correct it.

You accepted his unsatisfying answer and let your eyes wander around the tent, as you heard Halsin sigh once more. You didn’t know each other. Why would he share his woes with you? You were just a useless bard that happened to stumble into an unfortunate situation.

You spent the next few days in his tent, having Anwen and Halsin visit you every hour to bring food, drink and give you healing sessions. You were feeling better every day, the throbbing pain slowly dissipating from your lower body. It got to the point, where you even forgot you were hurt to begin with.

Anwen told you stories about Halsin, whom she adopted as a young boy. Most of the stories were quite embarrassing and you enjoyed learning about his mischievous nature. He carried himself with immense grace whenever he was around you, but you secretly knew he had a massive fear of moths and used to hide in baskets or pots to avoid druid training. He grew more relaxed each passing day, as well, showing off his collection of wood carvings you’d been eyeing in the corner of the tent, realizing you were someone easy to speak to.

You left the tent from time to time, as well, and were allowed to join in meals and share stories with the rest of the villagers. The village had been damaged by the attack, but not by too much. The druids seemed organized enough to fix things swiftly. Everyone treated you kindly.

The children were enthralled with you. They had carved a new, albeit extremely creaky and sad-looking, lute for you as a thank you, which you accepted with warmth surrounding your heart. Their eyes stared up at you, adoringly, as you haphazardly played on your gifted “instrument”, the notes plunking out strained and harsh. Gods, it was ugly. But you loved it anyway.

You learned Dafydd was the archdruid of the High Forest and Anwen’s brother. He was a lanky, older, but tall elf with the same eyes as Anwen, yet lacking her kindness. He had an intense authoritative energy and barely smiled, only nodding to greet you when you joined the circle. The only person he truly listened to was his sister and he was extremely harsh with the rest of the novice druids whom he trained, especially Halsin.

The children begged you to join them in their barn one night, where you learned Halsin slept while you occupied his tent. They dragged you to the heaps of straw, showing off their own attempts at carvings. You spied a larger wooden object hiding under a thin, massive blanket. That was most likely where Halsin slept, judging by the size of the bedroll. You decided not to pry.

The kids requested you sing them to sleep, as the orange sunrays drifted through the small cracks in the wooden walls. They were all snuggled together, glittering eyes blinking expectedly up at you, as you sat on a large bundle of hay.

How could you say no to them?

You started humming softly, watching them curl up closer to each other and stare at you with their little faces. You thought back to a gentle lullaby you had thought of, while you were wandering through a small village, which had a tradition of burning old keepsakes, in order to release them to the spirit world. You had been writing it below the Oaktree you always visited in the High Forest.

You didn’t need an instrument to keep the rhythm going, as the music flowed from your lips naturally:

I smelt smoke

On the wheezing of the wind when I awoke

A pyre of memory

Some fly-tipped treasury

Out there burning slow

Dark soaked fields

And the snuffling wet noses at my heels

Suddenly hackles raise

At the crackling of the blaze

Out there burning slow

And sometimes I catch him

With his axe in

The shadow

So secretive and private,

But I’m breathing in his life when

He’s out there burning slow

You repeated the lines a few times, until you noticed every chest of the children moving slowly up and down in a sweet cadence.

You heard someone behind you and turned to see Halsin leaning against the open door, the dark night behind him, his arms crossed:

“Beautiful tune. Been long since I’ve heard it.”

You blinked at him in stunned silence. He had heard it before?

He chuckled, noticing your confusion: “I told you Thaniel is fond of you. He likes to sing me your songs. The children do, too. Now I’ve had the pleasure of hearing it from the origin’s mouth, as intended.”

“Oh, wow… I didn’t know a forest spirit liked music…”, you pondered that thought, wondering what this Thaniel being was. If he had been listening all this time, where had he been hiding himself while you played on the riverbank?

Halsin joined you, sitting down on the hay ball. The might of his body made your side move up a bit, leaving your legs to dangle. He watched the children sleep, with a permanent smile on his face.

“Aren’t they precious?”, he cooed and you nodded with a silent chuckle, as one ork boy snored gently.

“Oh wait, one moment!”, Halsin stood up and tiptoed to the large bedroll, pulling the woodwork from under the draping.

He hid it behind his back, which worked amazingly, since he was so wide.

“Close your eyes,” he grinned.

You complied and waited with a secret shortness of breath. He had made something for you?

“Open,” he purred, sweetly.

As you opened your eyes, you were met with a beautifully crafted lute. The wood had been engraved with lovely vines and flowers.

Your mouth dropped open.

Halsin hurriedly sat beside you again, the hay ball raising you once again, as he handed you the intricately constructed instrument. The feel of the soft oak gave you goosebumps and the redness in your face was impossible to hide.

The strings were firm and carefully strung into place. You plucked a few softly. It sounded heavenly.

“This- what- how- why-…” you couldn’t string a coherent sentence together. Halsin chuckled.

“The children told me you sacrificed your lute to save them. The one they made for you is ...cute... , but I thought you needed a proper one.”

You gaped at him. You had never gotten such a thoughtful gift in your entire life.

You felt tears bite your eyes, but you blinked them away.

“Gods…thank you Halsin…I- I don’t know what to say. It’s marvelous!”

His smiled widened: “It’s the least I can do, I’m in your debt, remember?”

You smiled back, gazing at the artwork.

Moments passed as you both watched the sleeping children quietly. Your heart was still racing from the tremendous gesture.

You felt Halsin’s shoulders tense up as his face collapsed into the thoughtful one you first encountered in the tent.

You gulped inaudibly and decided maybe now he would be more open to talking to you. You had this urge to soothe him, especially after receiving the lute.

“Are you still bothered by what the Archdruid said?”, the words just spilled out of you. You realized it would indicate you had overheard the conversation and your throat closed up. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry…” your hands fidgeted around the lute as you nervously babbled on.

Halsin let out a brief gust of air between his nostrils. He nodded a bit, unbothered by your question.

“It’s just…”, he stopped himself. You saw his hands tremor slightly, “Dafydd is such a…such a…”

Your brows furrowed in concern.

Halsin took another deep breath, calming his slight shaking: “I didn’t abandon Zacharia. He told me to go and help. He told me he would take the children to the thicket and hide. I didn’t know those damned goblins were tailing us.” The words tumbled out of him with quiet agony staining his intonation.

You sat up a bit straighter, put the lute down on the ground and turned more towards him, unsure what else to contribute, but offering your ear.

Halsin balled a fist, as he watched one of the girls turn over in her sleep.

“Dafydd won’t go after that filth that tried to steal them. Says it’s pointless and risky and hotheaded. But what if they come back? Perhaps with an army of drow instead of stupid goblins. What if they get their hands on them and…” You heard his knuckles crack as he flexed his fist more.

He realized what he was doing with his hand and released his grip.

“I have to do something. I can’t just sit by and hope for the best.” His eyes scanned the barn floor, then finally met your worried gaze. The jade hue sparkled in the moonlight. You buried the thought about how handsome he was, while you focused on his problem.

You let his words swirl in your mind for a while. You never had any contact with Lolth sworn drows, just the kind ones that had escaped that fanaticism to Baldur’s Gate. At least you assumed they were Lolth sworn, you didn’t know of any other drow group that would do such a thing.

You agreed with Halsin. It was a terrible threat and a danger for the children to have the sheer possibility of another kidnapping exist.

“The thought haunts me, too. So, I understand how you feel”, your voice was almost a whisper, in fear of waking the sleeping souls, “It’s a huge risk to let them conspire in the dark.”

Halsin nodded. He leaned forward, holding his weight on his legs with his elbows.

He seemed to be at war with himself, unsure if he should tell you something. His eyes scanned you and you felt your body shake. A thought of what his lips tasted like invaded you, which you blinked away ashamedly.

Focus.

You attempted to hide your racy thoughts with a stupidly fake cough.

Halsin sat up again and bit his lip. Then he grabbed your hands and held them within his own. A brush of heat sizzled up your spine. He was so close to you.

“I’m going after them. I need a few nights to prepare, but then I’ll track those miscreants down. Frelma and Danan have agreed to come with me. Three is better than one. I have no idea if we’ll survive such an assault, but it’s better than sitting here and waiting for the next attack. We’re still concocting a plan. The drow are too dangerous to let live.”

His eyes bore into yours, a shred of relief after finally telling someone clouding them: “Please. Do not tell anyone, especially not Dafydd.”

You stared into his forest eyes, that quivered with anticipation at your response. You tried your absolute most not to lean in and clasp your lips in his, although every sinew within you yearned for it. Why was he so Gods-damn fine?

FOCUS.

“I’m coming with you.”

The phrase escaped from you. You couldn’t believe what you just said. Neither could the druid, who still held your hands gently.

He tilted his head, pacifyingly, his eyes softening sweetly: “You are braver than anyone I’ve ever met. But that would be quite foolish. No, you will stay here until you’re fully heale-.”

“I insist.”

OH MY GODS, SHUT UP.

Your insides were screaming at you, what the fuck were you thinking? What would you contribute? Battle music? You would only be in the way.

Halsin let out a soft laugh, lowering your hands but still holding onto them. He shook his head and gazed at you:

“You’re a fascinating person, truly. But I cannot allow you to-“

You released your hand from his grasp and held up a finger. An idea sparked within you. An extremely stupid idea.

“I know I can’t fight. But I can run.”

Halsin’s brow furrowed, waiting for an explanation.

#halsin bg3 #halsin #bg3 #halsin x reader #halsin x you #young halsin #young druid halsin #halsin silverbough #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #halsin fanfic #Spotify

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dannyboy-writes · 1 year ago

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Running away

After fleeing the Fire Nation's land you found yourself in a small fishing village. Filled with flowers in spring and sunlight in the summer, with piles of leaves in autumn and a tad of snow in winter. Just a hint of whiteness.

The last thing you would've expected from your travels was to end up here, having somewhat of a normal life, filled with joy. The only thing you would've changed was your last conversation with a certain someone.

“You used to have long hair,” a familiar but distant voice said, as you turned around.

"You used to be shorter," you said, face as serious as you could.

With a still straight face she said, "I could have you executed for that."

"Only if you can catch me," you finally broke a smile.

"True," Azula said, smiling as well.

"What brings you to this lovely and remote area of the world," you asked, pulling some things off the table.

"I was searching for someone. They owe me a goodbye," she said playfully.

You put some water in a kettle, "I believe they said goodbye already."

"Did they?"

"I gave you a letter, it's more than I did to most," you defended.

"You didn't give me a letter."

"Well, I hid it in your room. You found it, you can't lie to me Azula," you laughed.

She tried to maintain a serious face but dropped it soon as well, "I did find it."

"I couldn't exactly leave it laying around, not with everything that was happening."

"I understand," she nodded. "I just wish you had given it to me."

"I thought of it, but it was late. I had to ninja my way for it, I'm very proud of that," you said.

"Because of the guards?"

"Yeah, that and the fact that everyone had my face in a reward poster…"

She clasped her hands together and nodded.

"Why are you still standing, Zula?" You said bringing a kettle of tea to the table and sitting down. "Get comfortable, do you want anything else?"

"No, it's fine," she said, shifting in her spot.

"Is everything okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be," she asked in a paranoid tone.

"No reason," you said as she sat down. "Did you really come all this way just to get a goodbye?"

"Don't be silly, y/n. It's on the way in my travels," she lied.

It had been too long since she last saw you, and the way your voice strained in your throat took her off balance. Perhaps this was how you'd always spoken, but she didn't think so. Maybe she had just grown too paranoid.

"Where are you going?" You asked.

"Oh, let's not speak of that. How are you?"

The question rocked you off your place, but you managed not to show it.

"Well, I'm doing well. There's not much to do around here but fishing, so I do that, and sell that as well. I'm growing this tree in the back, it used to have a torn branch and it was falling off, but now it's looking good," you explained. "Sorry, you're probably bored by this." You said, knowing Azula wasn't one to be interested in the common occurrences of life.

"No, continue," she dismissed. And as you raised your eyebrow asked, "Please."

"Well, there is also a small dragon-moose that comes around every now and then, searching for food. I tend to leave a pot of fresh water and some leftovers for him." You paused to sip on your tea, "Other than that it's all pretty calm. There's mostly old people here, so no one asks many questions. They usually tell stories to me, not the other way around, which is good."

It was good, Azula thought. If you were still in hiding, even if you weren't in Fire Nation soil, it was good for people not to ask many questions.

"How do you know it's the same dragon-moose?" She found herself asking, much to her own surprise.

You were taken a bit aback by the question but answered anyways. "Oh, he has a little white spot in between the eyes. Plus he always waits for me to sit down before he eats the food. I don't know why, really."

She smiled, again to her surprise. How simple your life was, and how content with it you sounded. All you did was fish, feed animals and listen to old people's stories, and yet you looked like the happiest person in the world.

“It sounds wonderful,” she simply replied.

“Yeah… You sure you're fine?" You asked, concerned. It had been some time since you last saw her, but she didn't use to ask this many questions.

“You have nothing to worry about, y/n. I promise," she nodded.

"Okay… Do you plan on staying?"

"Would you like me to stay?"

"I'm asking so I know how much food I should make, you don't have to stay."

"If you want me to stay I'll stay," she stated.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that. "Uh, yeah, I would love that," you smiled. "That would be great."

She nodded once again, this time with a smile plastered on her face. She thought about staying there, in your little house by the sea.

Things would be so easy if she just had one more chance with you.

But she had Zuko and his friends on her heels, and it was better to leave you out of Fire Nation problems. One last dinner with you, that was all she needed.

When you woke up next morning with the house silent you knew she was gone, and when you walked into the kitchen and saw the note you hoped she was safe.

A little ‘thank you’ was all you had, and it was all you’d need.

#azula x reader #azula imagine #avatar the last airbender #atla imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months ago

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Dirty Work 52

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I always come back to Loki.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki lingers, his head against your arm as you sit in the hue of spring. You could be calm if he weren’t there, if he hadn’t just altered your irrevocably. His wife?

You could’ve never imagined it. You can’t be his wife. You’re the maid. You’re lost and hopeless and unimportant. Yet he wants to marry you? You? Even your own father doesn’t want you. Until just then, you may have thought the same of man kneeling by your feet.

Should it feel special? Should you be happy? Doesn’t every woman dream of her wedding day? You didn’t. You never expected a husband. You never had the thought to spare marriage. It just didn’t seem realistic to you. It was never a possibility you had to weigh.

“You’re quiet,” he lifts his head slowly, looking up at you with his gemlike eyes, “aren’t you excited?”

You suck in your lip then let it out, “yeah, I’m just... surprised.”

“Mm, I’m sorry it wasn’t a better one,” he looks around, “no candles, no champagne... but there are flowers.”

“Yeah, I guess, er--”

You hear the doors and before you can face the intruder on your scene, Frigga’s voice unleashes in a shrill squeal, “did you do it? Oh, please, Loki, what did she say?”

He shifts and clears his throat. He grips the arms rest and pushes himself to his feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead before he straightens. He lets out a breath as he turns to his mother.

“We are getting married,” he says plainly.

“Oh, how wonderful,” she chimes, “oh, a daughter-in-law!... Again.” She chuckles lightly, “it will be like a fairytale.” She flutters over to you as Loki moves out of her way, “darling,” she takes your hand, tugging you up to your feet, “this will be even grander than Walpurgisnacht. Oh yes, this will be unforgettable.”

You look at Loki as he returns your helpless gaze. You pout in his direction as he shrugs. Your mouth curves deeper downward. Please help!

“I’ve got some silhouettes in mind,” she pulls you away from the table, “Hela showed me this app, Pinterest I believe it’s called. I have all these splendid things saved.”

‘Sorry,’ Loki mouths and turns his hands out as you’re dragged away from the sunlight and the serenity of nature. Back to the dark house where you can’t breathe.

Inside, she takes you into the kitchen. She leaves you by the island as she flits around, dropping black tea into a pot and putting on the kettle to boil. She hums gleefully as you just stare. ‘Daughter-n-law'. That’s what she said. Would that make her your mother?

“Dear,” she turns to you and exhales, her expression dampening, “I recall you said your mother isn't with us anymore. I understand that may make this bittersweet for you but I will be here for you. Whatever you need, whatever questions you have, I’ll be happy to help. A wedding is a big thing. There’s much to do.”

You nod, “should we... should we hire a planner?”

“A planner? Gods no! I fancy myself a bit of an amateur but more than adequate,” she tuts, “we could have it at the house. Or perhaps we might seek out a nice chapel.”

You frown. It’s all so much so fast. She stops and puts her hand to her chest, “oh sorry, darling, I’m just so excited for you. I’m not trying to take over. Don’t be afraid to speak up. What do you think for a venue? Oh, perhaps a destination? Somewhere tropical?”

You cross your arms and peer over, your eyes catching the sheen of sunlight.

“The garden,” you murmur, “the gazebo. It’s all fixed up. We could put flowers around the rails.”

“That’d be a beautiful ceremony but what about the reception? We need space.”

“Oh,” you babble.

“Certainly we could make it work. We could fit people into the garden, we may have to sacrifice a few hedges.”

“Not many,” you mutter.

“Pardon, dear?” She asks as the kettle clicks and she turns to grab it off the burner, “what do you mean by that?”

“I...” your shoulders slump at the realisation, “I don’t have anyone to invite.”

She’s quiet as she pours the steaming water into the tea pot, “that’s not true. You have us and oh, Bragi seemed quite fond of you.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why not? Dear, we love Loki because we have to, we love you because we want to,” she smiles.

Your eyes drift away wistfully. She can’t understand. She has people, she has everything you ever wanted. Even with the promise of a pretty house, a gorgeous garden, and all that comes with it, it just doesn’t make you feel any different.

You want a dad who loves you. You want a mother who’s alive. You want anyone who isn’t just obligated to you.

“I’m sorry,” her voice goes low, “I’m not meaning to upset you. I’ll slow down. I understand it’s a lot--”

“How could you want me to marry him? I don’t belong—I shouldn’t-- I can’t be your daughter.”

“Why ever not?” She asks.

You scoff and push your shoulders up, “I’m not good enough.”

She laughs, but not a taunting laugh. It’s disbelieving. She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her head on, “darling, let me tell you, you are. You... you have no idea.”

“No idea?” You shake your head as you look at her from beneath your lashes.

“About what you do to my son. No, you cannot see it but I do. My Loki. I’ve seen him married, I’ve seen him heartbroken, I’ve seen him through everything, but something’s different about this. About you,” he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and hairline, “you have a power over him. Once you claim it, this will all be so much easier.” She cups your cheeks and tilts her head with a coy smile, “that’s how a marriage should be, you will see. He’ll never admit it but my son is more like his father than you would think.”

You scrunch up your nose. You don’t believe her. You can’t. You don’t have power. You’re just you. You’re not special or anything like that. You now what you are to Loki. The same thing you’ve always been to him, whether his maid, his plaything, or his wife; convenient.

“You will see,” she assures as if she can hear your doubts, “and what always clears my mind is tea.”

✨

Frigga expounds at length about all the possibilities ahead of you. She has grocery list that goes beyond a mere wedding. An engagement party, a bridal shower, the rehearsal, and not to mention, a scandalous bachelorette. You only sink further into anxiety. What have you gotten yourself into?

Well, you never did say yes. You weren’t asked, were you? Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you have anywhere to go.

You hold your chin, gnawing on your lip as Frigga rambles on about wedding colours. Green is nice but what about something subtle. Oh, or metallic. You simply nod, offering little to her monologue.

Your eyes wander past her to the windows. The afternoon wanes as evening cools the air. You mourn the sunlight as it shifts and the curtains dull.

“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat draws you away from your detachment.

Frigga quiets as she glances at her husband. He stands in the doorway, greeting you both with a subtle smile.

“I hate to interrupt, dear,” he says to Frigga, “but I was hoping I might be spared a moment with our future daughter before the sun sets. It has been a long day and I’d hate to keep her later than need be.”

“Oh, uh, certainly,” Frigga pushes her shoulders back, her cheeks tinging a dainty pink, “time must’ve got away from me. I’m so sorry, darling.” She reaches over and squeezes above your elbow, “I have been going on and on.”

“You will have lots of time to do so,” Odin chuckles, “but I feel the rain coming soon and I would like a walk in the gardens before then.” He tilts his head towards you, “may I have the honour?”

Frigga nudges you dips her head, “go on.”

You stand and swallow tightly, crossing the room to Odin as he waits patiently. You offer a sheepish look as he offers his arm. You thank him and walk with him into the entryway. He lets you retrieve your shoes before you go to the back doors and he ushers you outside.

You’re quiet as you descend the steps and stroll between the hedges. You feel the cool dampness creeping in the air. He’s right about the rain. You cling to his arm as a shiver crawls up your spine.

He draws away briefly, slipping off his thick cardigan, and he slips it over your shoulders. You murmur a thank you and he loops his arm with yours once again. You carry on, uncertain. You can sense he means to say something and you think you know what. He isn’t as happy as Frigga about this union.

You brace yourself for it. For him to put all your doubts to voice. You’re not good enough for Loki. This is a mistake. You are a pretender and you don’t belong in this family.

“My son is a fool,” he begins, shaking you with his soft but deep tone. You exhale, somewhat comforted that you were right. For once. “The way he’s behaved, foolish. And that’s to put it lightly, my dear.” He reaches to pat your hand in the crook of his arm, “you deserve much better than either of my sons.”

You keep your chin low as you watch your feet. A twig crushes beneath your sole as leaves rustle to your left. You glance over and stare after a short tail before it disappears. It’s only then you realise where he’s leading you.

The gazebo rises ahead of you with it’s domed roof. He stops you at the bottom and turns. He lets you go and lowers himself to sit on the step. He pats the wood next to him. As you sit, he looks up, admiring the structure.

“You did a good job,” he says.

“What?”

“On this,” he touches the railing, “looks sturdy.”

“Oh, well I... I only called the carpenter.”

“You did what needed to be done. What my son would not.”

“Mm, I guess,” you shrug.

“You did,” he insists, “do you not see it?”

“See what?” You twiddle your fingers.

“You are much stronger than he thinks you are. Than you think you are,” he shakes his head, “you underestimate yourself. My son, as much as I hate to think I raised him that way, while whine and whine before he gets anything done. If he can avoid it, it won’t be done. But you, I see it clearly, you do things. You know what life is. You just get through it.”

You hum and bite down on your cheeks. Not having a choice isn’t bravery. If anything, it’s the opposite.

“You shouldn’t. Just get through it. You should have some joy. You shouldn’t be locked away in the dark away from the sunlight. You should flourish in it,” he leans against you, “don’t let this marriage be like everything else.”

You dip your head. He sees right through you.

“You’re wrong, I’m not strong. I’m weak. I only do things because I’m afraid,” you sniffle.

“But you can admit that fear. You can face it. Not many people can.”

You sighs and drag your hands up and down your calves, hunching over your knees.

“If you want to marry my son, I will not say a word to stop you, but I do want you to make a promise to me,” he continues, “a small one. Rather, think of it as a promise to yourself.”

“Okay,” you wilt as you look over at him. His eyes are a bluish grey with flecks of slate. His gaze is gentle.

“It’s what we spoke of before,” he says, “you must tell my son no.”

“No?”

“Ah, yes, I do regret he didn’t hear more it earlier in his life but he does need to hear it. Especially from you,” he intones.

“But I...”

“You will. And when you do, he will listen.”

“How-- no, he wouldn’t.”

“Ah, I know. My son is isn’t very good at that but he will. He must. He has reason to listen now. You are not his wife yet,” he puts his hand over yours, just atop your knee.

You give a strained look, somewhere between a smile and frown. You’re flattered that he believe in you but you don’t. He doesn’t know the way it. He doesn’t know the way you are.

“Alright, let’s practice,” he pulls his hand away and claps. He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt and spins to face you. He adjusts his collar and lifts his chin, putting on face, almost a pinched look, “now, wife,” his voice is slightly off, “what I say is law and you will do as I say.”

You stare at him, confused. You purse your lips and shake your head. What is he talking about?

He grins and shows his palms, “I am him. Pretend I’m my son,” he lowers his voice, “now, we’ve had enough of this conversation and I have made my decision.”

You pick your nail, watching him dumbly.

He breaks character again, “say no.”

“What?”

“Say it,” he orders then once more his poster shifts. “Wife, I will not tell you again.”

You blink and take a deep breath, “n--no?”

He sputters, “pardon? What was that?”

“No,” you say firmer, heart beating, “no, I—I won’t.”

“But I said so--”

“Oh, um, okay--”

“No, no, no,” Odin waves his hands, “keep going.”

“Uh, okay, uh, no,” you say again.

“No? You’re telling me no?” He puts on a display which does remind you of Loki. “How can you tell me no?”

You look at him and blanch. His grey eyes stare back, goading you on. He bows his head slightly.

“Yes, I mean, no. Yes, I am telling you no. No,” you steady your voice, “no.” He spins his finger and you repeat it again, loudly.

He arches his brow and puts his hand to his chest, “no?” He sounds almost pathetic, “but darling,” he comes forward and lowers himself to his knees, one at a time. He takes your hand in his, “darling, please, don’t be mad at me.”

You scoff as his theatrics turn ridiculous. You make a face and roll your eyes, “he wouldn’t...”

“He will,” Odin assures. “If he knows you’re serious, if you don’t give him what he wants right away, oh, I think you could give him a right scare. As I have it, you already have done.” He lifts himself slightly and angles to sit beside you again, “just perhaps this time you needn’t scale the roof.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers

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wings-of-ink · 5 months ago

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zahn spinnet about cook mc making a whole shepherds pie just for them

they really need to put some meat on those bones

Oh that would be so sweet. Also, super weird you mentioned shepherds pie specifically...that is exactly what I've made for dinner tonight! You watchin' me, Anon?

So, Zahn has an optional romantic scene in the chapter that I'm writing now. I'm not too far away from doing that scene currently, so I think I'll post a teaser from that. We'll work on getting Zahn fed well in the next couple chapters. ^_^

So, until then...

The smell around you is divine. You've patiently waited for your newest creation to finish baking over the fire. Zahn is to meet you at home soon, and little do they know about the feast you have prepared.

Carefully, you use your hand, wrapped in a towel, to turn the trammel hook so you can retrieve the kettle. Prying the hot lid off you are suddenly enveloped more in the wonderful smells. It looks perfect. The mash you've placed atop the meat, gravy and vegetables has a lovely and lightly-toasted crust. The thick filling underneath bubbling through, creating extra tasty pockets of goodness.

As you let the pot cool, the brisk chill of early winter speeding things along, you prepare a basket of bread and a bottle of cider. A meal fit for royalty. You set the table, including the kettle and a single large plate just for Zahn. This special meal is only for them. You've already decided to have a simple meal of your own and some bread and cider of course. You cannot wait to see Zahn's big blue eye light up at the feast.

What should you call it, though? You used some mutton supplemented with a bit of goat as your meat...and it is a bit like a pie, just without pastry. Perhaps 'shepherd's pie' - considering a shepherd would have such animals at their disposal...they could eat the part of the flock they do not like. You smirk to yourself.

A knock sounds at the door - one that sounds like some sort of bizarre code before it resolves into frantic little taps.

"Come in!" you call.

Zahn rushes in and quickly closes the door behind them. They're piled with cloaks already, and the cold has barely set in. "Oh, it's so warm in here!"

After shedding all cloaks but their special one, Zahn rushes to hug you. You snuggle them close, tucking their cold nose into the crook of your neck. Once you begin feeling the pecks of little kisses, you know that Zahn is just warm enough. If you don't, you'll both end up missing dinner - again.

"Come sit, dinner is ready." You grab Zahn's hand and tug them to the table.

Zahn gasps. "Oh wow! That looks delicious. I love potatoes!"

"You love all food, and it's not just potatoes. Sit, I'll serve you."

Zahn claps. "Oh I love it when you tell me that," they say, plopping down in their seat.

You scoop out a huge helping of your special pie and carefully set it on the plate, splaying sliced bread along the side before you pour a cup of cider for them.

Zahn's eyes are huge and their hand is covering their mouth. "Oh, I'm drooling...but what about you?"

"I made this all for you. I told you that I'm going to make sure you get all the food you could ever want from now on. You're never going hungry ever again." You smile.

"All for me?"

You nod. "I'll start with bread and cider, but I'll just have some-"

"Please eat it with me..." Zahn's pink lips are pulled in a frown and you realize those blue eyes you adore so much are watery. "I can't believe you'd do something like this for the likes of me..." The tears finally fall. "I want you more than any feast."

You reach across the table and hold Zahn's hand. "Okay...if that's what you want."

Zahn smiles and wipes their eyes. "Let's eat until we have to roll on the floor to get around!"

As you dig in, Zahn's pleased moans over their food make you smile. They finish one plate quickly and then get another helping. "This is the best thing I've ever eaten. What is it?"

"You said that the last time we made a big dinner, and I call it shepherd's pie."

Zahn looks down at their plate. "...You made this out of a shepherd?"

You stare back unsure if Zahn is joking or not.

"Were they old or something?" Zahn asks, taking a big bite of the meat.

You really hope Zahn was joking...

#god cursed if #asks #gc ro zahn #this ended up a lot longer than intended lol

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theprongspotter · 6 months ago

Text

Kettle - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 10 - 394 words

James drums his fingers on the wooden table under him, staring absentmindedly at the parchment in front of him. It’s his Transfiguration essay, and even though he does fairly well in that class, he’s been begging Regulus to look over it, so here he sits in the library. An annoyed huff makes him blink a few times, almost regaining consciousness, and look up. He’s met with Regulus looking both irritated and contemplative. His brows are furrowed and his lips are turned down into a not-quite frown.

"Hi, love," James greets, pausing his drumming. "What's got you in a twist?"

Regulus sighs, sitting down across from his boyfriend. "It's Sirius. Again. I swear, he's impossible."

James chuckles. They have this conversation at least twice a week. "What did he do this time?"

"He never listens," Regulus begins, his frustration evident. "He thinks he knows everything, and he's so stubborn. We were arguing about the dumbest thing, and he just wouldn't back down. It's like he can't see reason when he's got his mind set on something."

James raises an eyebrow. "Sounds familiar."

Regulus narrows his eyes at the Gryffindor. "What do you mean?"

James leans back in his chair, giving Regulus a knowing smile. He remembers a muggle phrase Lily taught him and says, "Pot, meet kettle."

Regulus blinks, then frowns. What’s that supposed to mean? He pauses for a moment, trying to decipher whatever nonsense James is saying. Ah. “Are you saying I'm like Sirius?"

"Well, yeah," James replies, smirking. "You're both incredibly stubborn and think you always know best. It's why you clash so much.”

Regulus opens his mouth to retort, then paused, considering James's words. "I suppose... I can be a bit stubborn."

"A bit?" James laughs. "You're both like two sides of the same coin. Don’t get me wrong, though, you two still have your differences. I’m just saying.”

Regulus sighs, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe you're right. Doesn't make him any less frustrating, though."

"True," James concedes. "But maybe understanding why you two butt heads so much will help you deal with it better."

"Perhaps," Regulus muses. "It's not easy being so alike and yet so different."

"Well, at least you've got that sorted out," James says, sending his boyfriend an amused look and lightly kicking his foot under the table. "Now, about my Transfiguration essay..."

Regulus rolls his eyes, but his smile remains. "Fine, Potter. Let's see what you've got."

#marauders #marauders era #james fleamont potter #james potter #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #regulus x james #james x regulus #regulus loves james #james loves regulus #jegulus #jegulus microfic #sunseeker #starchaser

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ttulipwritezz · 1 year ago

Text

This Is Our Place.~ S.Black

Ootp! Sirius Black x gn! Reader

Synopsis: After azkaban, Sirius falls for his best friend's colleague, who just so happens to return his feelings. They find their place within the confines of a war. Perhaps they'll leave the Christmas lights up till January.

Wc: 2k

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, inconsistency, mentions of presents, Christmas, bad family (s.b), kiss(es), might be ooc idk.

The clouds began to form in delicate shapes, and the roar of thunder echoed through the gloomy room. The light from a candle illuminated the kitchen, in which you sat, your mind preoccupied with the thought of the incoming rain.

Preoccupied with the thought of having to take the clothes off the drying rack anytime soon or bringing all your potted plants indoors to avoid them drowning.

It was not an odd thing—rain—being that it was the end of August.

"Knock, knock."

You looked up from where a blank piece of parchment lay in front of you, curious to know the source of the words.

"You could just, you know, knock? Like a normal person, Sirius."

You found yourself speaking before you could collect your thoughts. The said man glanced at the parchment once and looked back at your face, his lips curving up the tiniest bit at your attempt to lighten the mood.

"Who am I, if normal, love?" He chuckles with a crooked smile.

You let your eyes roam around his face, his hollowed-out cheeks, and his half-lidded eyes. He looks tired. You conclude.

"Do you want some tea? I was just about to make some.."

You weren't really, about to make tea, that is. Still, you found yourself speaking, wanting to comfort the man, even if just a little.

Sirius was, by no means, your friend. He was just a friend of your colleague, Remus. You'd joined Hogwarts the same year Remus did; being new, the two of you hit it off immediately.

It always amazed you how well of a grasp Remus had on DADA. And he returned the favor by complimenting your herbology. You were a couple years younger than Remus, at best, and had known of him and the infamous marauders during your time at Hogwarts. Sirius Black did intrigue you the most.

You knew he came from a wealthy family, a bad one—of course, by no means did you want to intrude on his family life, but the heart does what the heart wants—and that he found solace in the friends he called brothers.

When Remus introduced you to his falsely convicted friend, Sirius Black, You damn near fainted on the spot, not because of his (undeniable) handsomeness but because of the sheer fear of standing in front of a possible murderer.

Now, years later (two to be exact), you find yourself enamored by the faded gray of his eyes and the curved bridge of his nose, which, you reckon, has been broken at least once during his time at Hogwarts, noting the sudden halt in the curve that then sharply turns to the other side and resumes its path.

Maybe it is a little peculiar to be noting such details of his appearance that you can paint a picture of his past. Strange, they'd call it. But it's routine for you. A routine you find comfort in.

"Thank you, Love," he replies.

A mumbled "'course" leaves your lips as you put the kettle to boil on the stove.

Sure, you could use magic, but these mundane tasks that don't require it seem to bring a sort of normalcy to your life. Even if just for a moment, it stops feeling like you're in the midst of a war and that people aren't dying left and right.

You were only nineteen when the first wizarding war came to an end, when your friends lost their lives, and when the dark lord seemingly disappeared forever.

He hadn't; that much was evident from the current situation.

The tea was set in front of Sirius almost unknowingly. You had been a little into your head and had been going about the task with practiced ease.

"Thanks again, Love. When do you reckon the others will return?"

Remus, along with the other order members, had gone on yet another mission. They left Sirius, concluding he was too weak to fight right now, and you, as you'd offered to stay back.

"Any time now, and really, it's no problem,"

you replied, sort of bashful at both his gratitude and the endearment.

As if on cue, the door opened with a jingle of the keys, and numerous voices rang through the empty corridors of Grimmauld Place.

Remus stalked into the kitchen and put his left hand up, leaning against the doorway with his right for some sort of support, revealing a gash running from his middle finger to his wrist and a sheepish smile on his face as he looked at you. Immediately, wordlessly, you walked forward with your wand and began healing the wound.

Removing a tin of herbal paste from the drawer beside and handing it to Remus.

"How'd that happen? I thought this was a 'harmless' mission," you asked, quoting his reassuring words from earlier.

"I nicked myself on a broken shelf." As confident as he sounded, his lie didn't escape you.

All it needed was a 'really?' look on your face to get the truth out.

"Death eaters," he stated, defeated.

"You really ought to be more careful, Rem. It worries me."

You said that and guided him out of the kitchen to assess his other wounds, which included one on his arm and a twisted ankle.

Unaware that a certain raven head was watching you from the table, envious and defeated at failing at his attempts to talk to you. The rain began pouring down, and the clothes and plants still outside ran through your mind.

The rain mirrored the heart of the black, sitting at the table, gloomy as ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You'd last seen Sirius when Harry and the kids stumbled through the door of Grimmauld Place, bringing an unconscious, but thankfully alive, Sirius with them.

Harry had told you that he was leaving to retrieve his godfather from the ministry, mentioning something about a dream, but you weren't paying much attention after you'd heard the news. With Dumbledore's permission and assistance, you'd returned to Grimmauld's place to help in case they ever needed it. Praying that Sirius made it back alive.

The kids, along with Remus and a few other order members, laid the unconscious Sirius on the couch and went to clean themselves up as you offered to take care of Sirius in the meantime.

Once conscious, you dragged Sirius to the bathroom on the ground floor of the house, squeezing through the thin hallways and sitting him on the counter as you retrieved a first-aid kit from the cupboard.

"Couldn't you use magic to fix my wounds?" came his distraught voice, cutting your thoughts short.

"Do you want me to inflict pain on them? Just sit still. Besides, it's not like I'm a healer."

As you cleaned each wound with precision, one thought roamed your head.

It's not like they don't have wands—the death eaters, that is—they injured him in a way that seems almost muggle.

"If you're wondering how, it was Bellatrix," Sirius said, trying to suppress a hiss at the particularly deep wound on his arm, as if reading your mind.

"Your cousin?" you answered, or rather, asked, continuing and moving onto the smaller cuts that littered his face.

Humming, he let you get the rest of the wound cleaned.

You glanced up at his face when opening the packet of cotton, only then realizing how close you had been. His breath was fanning your nose as he stared deep into your eyes, no trace of guilt or shame in them, as if he trusted you wholeheartedly.

You could have sworn you saw him glance at your lips in anticipation. The thought alone swarmed your stomach with butterflies.

Only now had you realized how intimate your shared moments were and how he had always tried to enlighten your mood with his jokes. You thought it was his defense, his coping mechanism.

Though now it seemed amidst the war, all he tried to do was hear you laugh. By pausing your movements as if in a trance, you maintained eye contact with him. He looked so stern and so soft all at once.

In his mind swam thoughts of the previous night, when you cradled Remus's hand with such grace and concern.

His lips parted, and you wanted to kiss him. You don't know why, but you did. All you had to do was move your face half an inch forward, and his lips would crash into yours. You wanted to do it so badly.

And so you did.

His eyes fluttered close, and the arm that wasn't injured came up to grip your neck, light as a feather.

His hands caressed the tiny hairs on your neck and sent a tingle down your spine. The kiss was phenomenal.

You didn't sleep that night; the thoughts were fluttering in your mind even hours later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I kissed him."

As soon as those words left your mouth, Remus choked on his tea and had to take a moment to steady himself.

"You kissed whom exactly!?" came his exasperated voice.

"Sirius," you said sheepishly, suddenly feeling small under his wide gaze.

"I didn't even know you liked him," Lupin said as he went to dry his clothes from the tea.

"It just…sort of happened..you know-"

"no, I don't know y/n..what were you thinking!?" Remus was confused, and a part of him felt betrayed.

You liked his best friend, but he had no clue.

The patter of the rain outside added to the deafening silence that you left. The sound brought you back to the first night in the house, the night when you shared tea with Sirius.

Your eyes flitted to the scar running along the Lycanthropes hand, and you grimaced at the angry red surrounding it as it healed.

"Did you put the balm on it today? your hand, I mean " Your words cut through the silence like a knife, and you moved your hand toward one of the many drawers housing your herbal balms.

"You're deflecting, love... If it's any help, Sirius would much rather pretend nothing happened than act on his own; you're best off confronting him first."

Remus's words were assuring, but the tone in which he said them made you scrunch up your brows and tilt your lip downward.

"Umm, I'll see what I can do." Your hesitance was evident in your voice.

You walked back to your room after handing Remus the green and silver tin, silently reminding him of his wound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the house, Sirius lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the kiss.

His mind wandered to the feeling of your lips, his hands on on nape, and your gaze before it all.

Your lips. My lips.

"A Rubber Duck!" A shout came from the room beside him. Harry's room. They were playing a round of charades, he remembered.

Harry! Yes!

He should ask Harry. So he made his way towards their room.

"Harry, could I talk to you for a moment?" Just as Harry was getting up and ready to join his godfather,

"actually hold that-"

He turns to Hermione

"-Hermione!! You're a muggle. You'd know! of course" The hopeful tone of his voice sends Ron into a laughing fit, and Harry's mouth twitches into a grin as Hermione sits confused with a frown.

After discussing the matter with the kids, Sirius decides he's done with his stupid old ways. He wants to say something; make the first move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It happened on christmas eve.

Everyone had taken to opening presents under the large tree at the living room.

After watching Ron fawn over his new wizard chess set, you decided it was time for a much needed break.

"I think i'm going to go make some hot chocolate...anyone want some?" You asked, already getting up to yout feet.

Most of them nodded no and you only just realised all their mugs were rather full.

Making your way into the rather small kitchen of grimmauld place, you got out your wand to help make your hot chocolate.

"Knock knock" a familiar raspy voice came from the doorway.

An odd sense of deja vu enveloped you and you turned around to look at the source.

"you could just knock. Like a normal person" you repeated your words from the previous day.

The relationship between you and sirius had strained quite a bit after that shared kiss.

"sorry love, how's your day going so far?" He asked, seemingly trying to dissipate the awkwardness from the air.

"Alright...i suppose, what about you?" You replied with just as much hesitation.

"Good." And it stopped at that, the conversation.

Only now did you realise just how close he had gotten. You backed yourself away slightly, only to find your leg hitting the back of the counter.

The world seemed to be silent as the sound of your breaths mingled with one another, accompanied by the ticking clock.

The noises in the living room had become nothing but a blur and muffled by your thoughts.

"I really like you y/n. I truly do" Sirius spoke first, drawing your attention from the planes of his face

"Huh?" Your reply came meek and unsure.

You weren't even sure you'd heard it right.

"i like you." He reiterated.

You did hear it right.

Your knees felt weak but at the same time you were on cloud nine.

Before getting the chance to gather your thoughts you found yourself speaking..

"I really like you too sirius"

your voice came out just louder than a whisper, you're sure he wouldn't even have heard it.

His next words sent a flurry of butterfiles to your stomach.

"May i..?" You noticed him glancing down at your lips and back at your eyes.

You couldn't stop the smile that bloomed on your face as you nodded yes.

The kiss was diferent than the last, less desperate yet more passionate. It was slow, steady and loving.

You could feel his smile against your lips before you pulled apart.

"I've waited so long to do that" his voice came a mere whisper

Your eyes followed the movement of his lips, which were on yours moments ago.

" I...umm got you a gift" he continued, his hesitation surprising you.

Forcing your eyes to look back at the grey irises you managed to let out a breathless

"what?"

Sirius pulled out a box, a small one of velvet, the kind that would normally house a ring, now held a singular locket that was shaped as a star.

"A star...for my star" he said

You couldn't stop the heat from spreading to your cheeks, eyes widening a touch and lips quirking up the slightest.

Two voices giggling could be heard from the kitchen that night.

The whole night.

A/n: I spent WAYY too long on this- and the ending is super rushed lmao i hope you enjoyed it and all reblogs help me reach more ppl! I had sm fun writing this. i'm v proud of this ❤️❤️

#oneshot #sirius black imagine #marauders era fanfiction #harry potter #fanfiction #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #sirius black fanfic #sirius black x professor reader #marauders fanficion #marauders #sirius black fanfiction #post azkaban sirius #prisoner of azkaban #hp ootp

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humbledragon669 · 1 month ago

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S2E3 - I Know Where I'm Going Write Up P1 - up to the credits (present day)

Tiny bit of trivia about me that I’m sure nobody really cares about - as of Christmas just gone, I own my own version of Jim’s mug. It’s definitely one of the top three presents I got (one of the others is a GO themed long-sleeved t-shirt), and I absolutely have been using it to drink hot chocolate out of. I LOVE it.

Anyway, it’s Easter egg time! Yeah, that’s right, this one appears right at the beginning of the episode. And I suspect that many people will already have noted this one, but as I’ve said before, you never know. So here it is:

That’s the music instrument shop across the road from the bookshop, called “Arnolds”, presumably for the soundtrack composer for Omens - David Arnold. Obvious though it may be, it’s a bit “blink-and-you’d-miss-it”, so I felt like it was worth drawing attention to, just to reiterate the level of care and attention on display in this show that we all know and love. And whilst I have my attention-to-detail hat on, I have a brief point of speculation to make about Jim’s location in this opening shot. Given his view across the street, and the limited view we get into the room behind him (I’m thinking mostly about the lamp you can just about make out over his shoulder), this would appear to be Jim’s bedroom. In front of him is a tray with his mug and a container of hot chocolate on it. There’s even a trail of hot chocolate powder in between the mug and the container, as if someone has been a bit careless when spooning the cocoa from the pot into the cup (no judgement, I do this ALL the time). Before breaking away from this shot, we see Jim pouring boiling water into the mug from an electric kettle. All perfectly understandable actions for a set-up to show a man looking out over his neighbourhood, right? So my speculation is this, and I am jumping ahead a little. Why is it necessary for Crowley to leave the room when offering to make Jim a cup of hot chocolate in a later episode? It would seem that all the equipment required is right there in Jim’s bedroom. Sounds like another instance of scriptual convenience to me, albeit a small one. Anyway, enough pedantry, let’s move on.

It's taken me ages, but I’ve worked out what the music is playing in the background of the coffee shop. Unsurprisingly it’s another Queen tune - “Radio Ga Ga” this time. Given the lyrics, which speak of a fond farewell to a medium that no longer has relevance given more modern offerings, I wonder if this might be a reference to the state of Nina’s relationship with Lindsey at this point? Aside from that potential insight, I can’t really say there’s an awful lot about this scene that I like. Obviously Nina is still being her unlikeable self (checking her phone whilst she’s in the middle of serving someone? Not being funny, I would genuinely walk out of a coffee shop if a barista did that to me), but now we’re “introduced” to another fairly abrupt character, but this time we don’t even learn her name. Poor Mrs. Sandwich, she turns out to be an incredible likeable addition to the show, but in my opinion, she really doesn’t get to shine here. And what’s the point of this scene really? So that we can get a long shot of Muriel’s arrival and have it hammered home that their appearance is visible and noted as odd by the people in Whickber Street? If that’s the case, honestly this whole scene feels pretty unnecessary, but perhaps that’s just me.

Now. I did a little bit of digging about the way that Muriel introduces themself, because this stereotype is familiar to me, but I have no idea where it comes from. There’s a lovely bit of hive mind research been done here, which suggests the origin of the phrasing is over 100 years old but personally my money is on this being a nod to Monty Python (as detailed in that forum post), particularly as it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen a Python reference in the show (NIAT RUC, I’m looking at you). I think there might be another little homage here though, and this one if a bit more niche. It’s to do with the whistling in the soundtrack, heard here:

It rang bells with me, and unlike the backing music in the coffee shop earlier, this one didn’t actually take me very long. Back in the mid-90s, there was a sit-com show here in the UK called The Thin Blue Line, which followed the personal and professional lives of a group of policemen from an English town. The policemen in question were of both the uniformed (commonly called “bobbies”, or “on-the-beat”) and non-uniformed variety. Muriel is most definitely dressed as one of the former. Here’s the theme tune from that show:

Not too dissimilar, are they? I couldn’t find any evidence for whether the theme we hear in the Omens soundtrack is an homage to the theme from The Thin Blue Line or not. Perhaps it wasn’t even a conscious thing, though I highly doubt that. I would so love it if this was an intentional reference to that little copper comedy from the 90s - it ran for only 2 seasons, but I remember watching every episode when it aired and finding the whole thing really funny. I don’t know how well it will have aged, but I do remember that (bearing in mind this was the mid-90s) its casting was progressive - an Asian woman and a gay man both playing lead roles and part of the police force, with the characters most commonly ridiculed for being wrong and unreasonable being the middle-aged white men. It was perhaps a little slapstick in places, and intrinsically “British” in its humour, but I still feel like it was a delightful addition to our televisions, so if this is a tip-of-the-hat to the show, I feel it’s well placed. Right, time to move on, this is supposed to be a write up of a Good Omens episode, not an appreciation post for long-dead British TV shows.

It's pretty difficult to say with any certainty, but I don’t think Aziraphale recognises Muriel when they arrive. Granted, he wouldn’t have seen or spoken to them in quite some time (since his defection from Heaven at the latest, though the only time we see them interacting is in the Uz flashbacks), but given the conversation he had with them during the Job debacle, you’d think he might at least realise he’d seen their face before? Particularly given the memories he has so recently lived through. Don’t get me wrong, he clearly knows they’ve come from Heaven, but that outfit pretty much gives the game away on that front, and he has been told to expect a visit from an auditor. Doesn’t take him long to decide to play along either.

I really love this moment - I’m pretty sure that this is where he decides not only to pretend he doesn’t know Muriel is there to check up on his miracle claims, but to be gentle about his interactions with them. He's recognised the joy that Muriel is getting out of the situation and decided that the nicest thing to do will be to let them enjoy the ride, which can only happen if the pretence is maintained. Subtle as it is, I actually think this is one of Aziraphale’s clearest indications of his Good nature - faced with a similar situation, many people (Crowley included, as we’ll come to see shortly) would openly mock Muriel for their apparent lack of intelligence, and given their visit’s true purpose I don’t think anybody would have been too displeased if Aziraphale had just closed the door in their face. It’s such a selfless act of kindness, and in not shunning Muriel, we are treated to some truly beautiful comic moments throughout the rest of the season.

Oh hold up. Was I just waxing lyrical about how kind and considerate this angel is? I take it all back. I almost feel like Crowley has suggested this to him, it’s that mischievous. And not the first time he’s done it either, except the last time he tricked another angel into sullying their body with a liquid intended for human consumption, that being was suffering from complete amnesia. Vulnerable you might say. Which is actually not that dissimilar to Muriel, who is clearly in a very precarious position and not doing a particularly good job of hiding their discomfort and mild panic in trying to maintain their cover whilst staying in character. He even manages to sound as if he’s trying to coach them on proper human responses with no hidden subtext. At least he has enough of a conscience to show pity for his visitor and the position he’s put them in:

Bit of a tangent here - why doesn’t Aziraphale recognise that the fact that Crowley is bringing his plants into the bookshop gives the game away that he’s living in his car? Don’t get me wrong, I am in no doubt that the reason Crowley removes them from the car at all is because he wouldn’t trust anybody else to look after them, not even his angel, so I do understand the reason for them to be removed. As far as I can see, there are four possibilities for this:

Aziraphale doesn’t make the connection between Crowley having his plants in the car and what means for his living situation.

Aziraphale does make the connection but, perhaps due to the current awkward situation panning out in the bookshop and his plans for his Edinburgh road trip, doesn’t mention anything about.

Aziraphale already knows that Crowley is sleeping in his car.

Crowley isn’t really living in his car at all, and the plants are simply kept there to maintain the cover story.

I think Aziraphale is smarter than the first option, even with his innate inability to pick up on Crowley’s cues. And I can’t really comprehend that Aziraphale would have taken the revelation that Crowley is living and sleeping in his car without any sort of protestations (let’s not forget that Crowley openly offered Aziraphale a place to stay when they thought the bookshop was gone, and that was before their respective defections). The third possibility has legs, but it doesn’t sit right with me - I just can’t see that Aziraphale would tolerate this living situation for Crowley, even if it meant buying or renting a place somewhere else for the demon to call home. The last of those possibilities is where my head canon lives, as I think I’ve mentioned in previous write ups. We’ll see Aziraphale “reacting” to the confirmation that Crowley has been sleeping in his car in a future episode, so I’ll hammer this point home one last time when we get there. And regardless whether you agree with my ideas or not, you can’t deny that Crowley’s confident swagger when he bursts into the shop really goes to show just how comfortable he is in this environment, and that he has no qualms about asserting himself there. Almost like it was home in fact…

See? No problems asserting himself at all. The subtext here is pretty glaring - his joining Aziraphale gives a clear message to Muriel about the fact that they’re a team (a group. A group of the two of them), and despite the fact that there surely must be A LOT of body contact going on here, Aziraphale’s expression doesn’t change at all. Not a muscle moved. It feels to me as if this is the sort of close proximity contact that the two of them are very accustomed to when not in the presence of other beings that might see it for what it is. And not only is Crowley comfortable with his position, he’s really enjoying himself:

I’ve mentioned it before, about us not getting to see much of Crowley’s mischievous side in the present day in this season, but this is it on full display. I’m not sure why I love more about this interaction with Muriel - Crowley’s cheeky grin or the fact that Aziraphale does absolutely nothing to reprimand him over his behaviour. That angel is having just as much fun partaking in the mischief as Crowley is, and I find it really adorable to see him indulging his playful side, even if it does eventually result in another one of those pitiful compassionate looks he throws Muriel’s way.

There’s a potentially interesting use of pronouns in the conversation that follows in the back room:

Interesting, see? Crowley refers to Heaven as “your lot”, despite the fact that Aziraphale has openly admitted that he no longer works for them. Not only that, the angel takes the baton up with his reply, grouping himself together with his former workplace using the “we” pronoun. Perhaps it’s just the habit of the previous multiple millennia, it just strikes me as odd, not least because Crowley’s questioning of them being “in charge” would appear to imply that he feels Heaven has the upper hand in the Heaven/Hell power play. Semantics aside, there’s something about this conversation that I really love. They’re both actually listening to one another, the tone is congenial, and they’re engaging in teamwork, and it all feels so natural. There’s no emotional stress going on, no arguing, just two people working together to try and achieve a common goal. I think this is probably the closest we come to seeing them in their normal relationship state, and it feels so relatable.

Well, it looks like Crowley’s plan has changed somewhat following his streetside conversation with Nina - now it needs a “fabulous kiss” for it to be successful. Considering his previous plan was so obviously a retelling of the love story between he and Aziraphale, I find the addition of a kiss at this point to be a notable one. Yes, my head cannon has our hero couple very firmly established in a relationship in the present day, but no, I do not believe that they kissed during either of the two “shelter-under-an-awning” moments that they have shared. Not to mention that I feel like there’s an element of heartbreaking foreshadowing going on with his throwaway comment (though to be fair, I don’t think there’s anything “fabulous” about that kiss in the Final 15, but I’m getting ahead of myself). What is it that makes him add the need for a kiss for his plan to be successful? Consulting my head cannon again, I suspect there might be some further revelations to be had about when he and Aziraphale shared their first kiss, and that this might tie into his updated plan somehow, but whether we’ll get to see that in the space of our final 90 minutes, I don’t know.

Oh I love this. Like, so much. It’s such a MARRIED COUPLE mini spat. It’s so obvious that Aziraphale takes the role of the stereotypical wife - there’s no negotiation, just the thinly veiled threat of extreme rage if his wishes aren’t complied with. And just as obvious is Crowley’s adoption of the stereotypical husband role - downtrodden, with the resigned knowledge that he’s been beaten and can’t worm his way out of a situation that whilst he knows he doesn’t like, he has no logical argument to counter. It’s so lovely. Beautifully delivered and excellently timed. The more I look into the episodes for this season, the more I seem to find that feels stilted and somewhat unnecessary, but moments like these are most definitely not one of them, and in fact I think they’re probably largely responsible for our intense love of the relationship between our hero couple. There’s another one coming up, but I’ll get there in a moment.

Despite being at the tail end of a spat, and that Aziraphale is clearly both disappointed and distracted not to have put his hands on the car keys, we’re about to see a lovely example of Aziraphale and Crowley showing a sixth sense for knowing their roles in the relationship. Regardless of the fact that there is no verbal communication between them following Muriel’s entrance to the room, Crowley knows instinctively that this is his cue to step up and perform a mini rescue, and Aziraphale knows to simply let him do his own thing. He doesn’t say a word once Muriel bursts in on them, just allows Crowley to do all the talking, with the instinctive knowledge that they will be in a better position soon. Which of course leads to this OUTRAGEOUS look from Aziraphale:

There it is, another one of those moments I was just discussing! I remember the first time I caught this look from Aziraphale, it was like a bomb had gone off in my head. It’s… well it’s pure filth, isn’t it? We all thought the look Crowley drew in the Bastille was the best example of a mental undressing we would ever see, but this just blows it out of the water. And why wouldn’t Aziraphale be feeling particularly enamoured of his demon at this point in time? There he is, doing his little rescue and invoking feelings of his knowledge of love (“love”?) at the same time. It’s pretty clear to see how much Crowley’s little speech has affected him, because he barely manages to catch the keys that the demon throws to him mere seconds later. He doesn’t even argue when Crowley continues to assert that the Bentley belongs to him alone, and even manages a wink, which I can only assume is supposed to be reassuring that he’s on the same wavelength about the current situation, and that he appreciates the olive branch just offered to him by way of Crowley’s accepting of the mission he’s been given.

Apart from a quick note to say that Aziraphale’s driving looks worse than Crowley’s, and that Crowley’s reaction to seeing his beloved car driving away speaks (to me, anyway) more of boredom than it does of worry or possessiveness, I think that’s all there is for this instalment, seeing as we’ve arrived quite neatly at the opening credits. As always, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome. See you for the next one!

#good omens #episode analysis #aziracrow #ineffable idiots #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #head canon #good omens soundtrack #good omens muriel #good omens season 2 #the thin blue line #aziraphale loves crowley

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enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog · 2 months ago

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Best of Intentions - character building - relationship building - snippet #3 continuation.

******

Thorin huffed a laugh as he wiped the blade of his sword on a moss-covered log. “Is this going to become a habit, You running about and doing the exact opposite of what I tell you to do?”

Mistlynn folded her arms over her chest as she bristled at the jab. “Perhaps? Are you going to make it a habit of telling me what to do?” She forced a close-lipped snarky smile on her face, before turning her back to him and began to walk towards the tree line.

She heard Thorin sigh heavily before he began to follow after her. “Be sure to watch you step.” He grumbled as they walked in silence, listening to the still eerily quiet forest for any sign of spiders.

A distant yell echoed through the trees, making them both turn in the direction it came from.

Another yell followed almost immediately, and they both tensed as sounds of another fight echoed through the forest.

“Kili.” Thorin breathed out quickly. He looked over at her, his eyes narrowed. “Keep going, don’t stop until you are out of the forest. You will see our horses tied to the tree line. Wait there until we return.”

Mistlynn’s jaw dropped as she gave him an incredulous look. “Excuse me? I am going with you! I want to help.”

“No. I need you out of harm’s way,” He returned her challenging glare. “This won’t take long.”

“I helped you!” Mistlynn gestured sharply in his direction.

“Yes, you did, and I am most appreciative but now I need you to go wait by the horses. You have no weapon.”

“I made do last time; I will do so again!” She hissed as she stormed off, shooting him one more seething glare before making her way through the dense brush.

“Sar em Gabura.” Thorin growled as he shook his head, following close behind her as he glared at the back of her head. “Damn your insufferable pride.”

“Pot. Kettle.” Came her flippant reply as she picked up her pace. She jumped off a log, unaware of the snare she tripped when she landed in the underbrush.

“Look out!” She heard Thorin shout in alarm as he rushed to her side, attempting to push her to the side. She whirled around, eyes wide as he collided into her.

She felt a rope cinch tightly around their legs, his attempt to pick her up and throw her away not quick enough.

A startled yelp escaped her lungs as she felt the ground leave their feet as they were both yanked up into the air with a surprising amount of force.

Her chest crashed into his, their legs both tightly wrapped with a thick rope and bound closely together as they found themselves hanging upside down, a good distance up off the forest floor.

Gasping for a solid breath of air, she braced her hands against his chest and tried to push herself away from him. They were pressed solidly against one another, their ankles and calves bound tightly with the thick rope. Her head was directly under his chin, her hair undoubtedly suffocating him.

She heard a steady string of blush worthy curses tumble from his lips as they swayed through the air, the branches holding their combined weight as they creaked loudly.

The cold feeling of absolute horror fizzled through her veins like a lit fuse as she took note of his rapid heartbeat as it pummeled in his chest. She could hear it clearly, his body heat and masculine scent overwhelming her as if it was seeping into her body.

Memories of him sparring shirtless flashed through her mind. Her cheeks heated instantly as she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from groaning aloud in sheer embarrassment. Not an inch was spared between them, she felt every single curve of his sculpted torso and legs, the barrier of their clothes doing nothing to disguise it.

This was not good. Not at all.

“Unbelievable.” She heard him seethe through clenched teeth as he swiped her hair away from his face.

She tilted her head back, only to see the ground swaying. She spotted Thorin’s sword upright and fully embedded into the forest floor. She groaned again as their dire situation settled in further. She attempted to twist her body, to see how much range she had in movement.

“Stop that.” He hissed. “You will make the ropes tighter. This is an elvish snare.”

She made herself look up into his face, meeting his burning gaze instantly. His jaw was clenched as he attempted to take a deep breath in through his nose as if he were in pain.

She gulped, as if trying to swallow her embarrassment. “I am so sorry.” She muttered. “I didn’t even know you could make a snare this big.”

Thorin brought a hand up to his eyes and rubbed them. “It’s fine. I didn’t realize that Tauriel and her scouts had already started to set them.”

She nodded while giving her shoulders a slight shrug. “So…what do we do now?”

“I’m thinking.” He grumbled irritably as he leaned his head back to take in their surroundings now that their swinging had lessened. He attempted to shift without disturbing the tight rope around their calves and ankles.

Mistlynn bit her bottom lip at his movement, his torso rubbing against hers in a very distracting way. She let her forehead fall against his chest as she tried to coax her body into relaxing so that the raging blush she felt prickling her skin like a wildfire wouldn’t be so obvious to him in this close of proximity.

She heard Thorin sigh in resignation as his arm wrapped around her waist. “I apologize, Its starting to get uncomfortable to let them both hang.” He muttered into the top of her head.

She nodded again stiffly. “It’s fine.” She huffed into his chest.

For Yavanna’s sake, was this punishment?

Why did he smell so good? She was practically salivating.

The shouts they had heard coming from Fili and Kili had stopped suddenly, making them both crane their necks, straining to look in that direction, desperate for any sign of movement. The silence made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck as it settled in heavy around them. She felt his fingers tighten their grip slightly as he scanned the forest.

“Is there any way we can loosen these ropes?” she whispered, sensing his unease.

She heard him growl in frustration. “No. There is a dagger in my boot but with how tight these ropes are I’m not sure I’ll be able to reach it without off the blood flow to our feet.”

“Which boot?” she couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice as she tried took down at his feet. Her significantly smaller feet and calves were wedged tightly in-between his.

“My right, on the outside.” His voice was rough, unease evident in his tone.

She pursed her lips. “I think I can reach it.” She looked up at him, determination flashing in her eyes.

His eyes widened as she began to bend her knees, her hands gripping his sides as she began to pull herself towards his legs.

“Woah, woah, wait! Hold on!” He stammered rapidly. He dipped is chin to his chest to look at her as she tried to minimize her wiggling down his body as she reached for his boot. She pressed the side of her face to his lower stomach, his belt buckle cold against her cheek as outstretched her hand towards his boot.

He groaned in exasperation at the sight. “Will you just?...” His voice trailed off as he felt her move even lower, her fingers grasping firmly against his leg, not quite reaching far enough to grasp the clasped handle.

She cursed as her body strained to hold the position. She felt his body tense. “I don’t know if I can reach any farther.” She huffed breathlessly.

She felt his lower abs tighten as he began to chuckle, as if in disbelief at their current situation. “You’ve gone this far, why stop there? By all means.”

Mistlynn gritted her teeth together as she slowly straightened herself, her fingers digging into his sides to stop the movement from jolting the rope.

“You think you could do better? You-you big baby!” She stammered, anger and embarrassment flushing her already red face a lovely shade of scarlet.

He glowered at her as he clenched his jaw. “As a matter of fact.” He growled before he bent his knees, his chest brushing her body as he painstakingly pulled himself in the same fashion she did.

She gasped in horror as shivers erupted down her body as if she was being struck by lightning. She bit her bottom lip so hard she got a hint of copper on her tongue as he placed the side of his head on her stomach while the other hand gripped the outside of her waist.

He let out a shaky breath as he cursed, his fingers brushing the top of the dagger. “I almost got it. As he tried to reach farther, he strained more towards his boot and his hand slid from its grip on her waist to directly under her left butt cheek and back of her thigh.

A sound between a gasp and a shriek from the shock of his strong hand gripping her there escaped as if she was being strangled.

Her body jerked in retaliation, jolting his shoulder just as his shaking fingers unclasped the dagger hilt. At her sudden jolt, he fumbled to grasp onto the handle, but it slipped through his fingertips and tumbled towards the ground, burying itself right next to Orcist.

The breath rushed out of Thorin’s lungs as he stared dumbly at the dagger that tumbled out of his fingertips. He felt Mistlynn tense against him as a few seconds of exasperated silence fell between them.

He breathed in deeply before his body began to shake as he began to chuckle as if in disbelief. “That’s just brilliant.” His chuckled deepened as he slowly straightened his body until he was hanging straight once again.

Mistlynn was staring at him with wide eyes, lips pressed into a thin white line as her cheeks still flamed scarlet. “I am so sorry. When your hand slipped…” she took in a deep breath as she tried and failed to reign in her mortification.

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands as he shook his head. “Durin’s beard, woman!” his chuckle became strained as he fought to reign in his frustration. “I was trying to get the gods damned dagger, not assault you! I had it in my bleedin hand!”

Mistlynn’s mouth fell open in shock at his outburst. “I didn’t do it on purpose! I want out of this infernal snare and as far away from you as soon as possible!” she seethed, glaring at him as she shoved his shoulder for emphasis.

“You are by all accounts the most infuriating dam in the existence of all dams since Mahal himself created them!” he shot back as he scowled down at her.

“Oh, I’m infuriating? Your head is so far up your royal arse every word that comes out of your mouth is nothing but pure-“ her hands were stiff at her side, balled into trembling fists so that her body was fully pressed against him, only adding more fire to her blazing frustration.

“Stop talking.” He hissed.

She smacked his shoulder in pure outrage. “Why you-“ She raised her hand to hit him again, but he caught it midair as his other hand clasped down on her mouth. Her eyes blew wide open in righteous indignation as she shrieked against his palm.

He grit his teeth as his hand tightened over her mouth. “I. SAID.STOP.TALKING.NOW.” he hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes transfixed on a spot over her head.

She stilled instantly, her nostrils flaring as she looked at him in alarm. She watched his throat bob, eyes still fixated on whatever was behind her. “DONT.MOVE.A. MUSCLE.” His voice deepened, quiet yet urgent.

Her heart stuttered in her chest when she heard the dreaded clicking of those spiders coming from behind her.

She couldn’t help the shudder that rippled through her spine as her other hand grabbed onto his coat and grasped onto its thick fabric tightly.

His eyes were menacing slits as he watched them approach, scurrying upside down along the treetops, making the branches quiver and snap as they moved quickly towards them.

The spiders didn’t seem to see them as they moved over them, their clicking and blood curdling hisses making her skin crawl. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she was finally able to see how big they were. They were easily bigger than a full-grown ice bear, as she could no longer deny that she was terrified.

Her heart was racing as she stared at them in horror, there was no way she could take them on with a stick and rock.

She felt something brush against her now trembling fist, prompting her gaze to shift from the giant spiders back to Thorin. His eyes had softened slightly as he looked at her, his thumb gently rubbing the skin across her bruised knuckles. “Its okay.” He mouthed. She blinked rapidly, trying to convey that she understood him.

The spiders had stopped, almost directly over them as they seemed to scan the forest around them. Mistlynn held her breath as she willed her heart to slow its frantic beat.

Thorin couldn’t help a sneer of pure hatred as he stared at the monstrosities.

A loud snap echoed from behind them in the near distance, making the spiders whirl around. One of the spiders legs tangled with the rope that was holding them up, The rope tightened painfully on their legs as they began to spin. A faint whimper escaped her as the muscles in her calves spasmed.

Thorin quickly moved his hand from her mouth and hand and wrapped his arms around her in a protective embrace. “Hold on.” He whispered urgently into her hair as she clung to his jacket.

As one spider launched itself towards the sound, the other was staring directly at them as they spun.

Its fangs clicked together furiously as it began to slink down a tree that was closer to them, as if trying to determine what was dangling at the end of the rope.

A flash of brown dashed between the trees, drawing Thorin’s attention for a split second as he followed it. It was Fili, crouching into a defensive position with both his swords held at the ready. On the other side of him, a faint glimmer reflected off of a broadhead, Kili holding an arrow notched and aiming directly at the spider.

“Brace yourself.” Thorin growled into her ear as an arm moved behind her head, the other winding tightly on her lower back, preparing for a quick drop. The spider hissed as it moved to launch itself at them, but the arrow flew and embedded itself directly In the center of its venom dripping mouth, making it shriek as it lost its grip on the tree. One of its long legs that was still tangled with the snare rope grew taunt as the weight of the falling spider pulled it beyond its weight limit.

Mistlynn gasped, her grip on Thorin becoming vice like as she felt them plummet. She heard the loud thud of the spider hitting the ground before the rope grew taut again, jolting them to sudden and painful stop. They had dropped several feet when they lost the one rope.

Thorin groaned as the remaining ropes bit into the leather of their boots. He threw his head back, loosening one hand away from Mistlynn’s back as he attempted to reach for Orcist, just mere inches too short from grabbing the hilt.

“Hold on!” He heard Fili yell as he fought the still alive spider. The other spider that had run off was scurrying back a terrifying speed, right towards them as they still swung from the rope.

Kili released another arrow, embedding it into one of the spiders eyes, making it veer off course and run into a tree.

“Thorin!” Dwalin’s voice yelled over the screeching of the spiders. “Catch!”

Thorin reached his hand out to catch Orcist as Dwalin tossed it at him. He gripped the hilt and spun it deftly in his hand before twisting his body so that he could slice the rope with its blade. His arms tightened again, covering her head with his arm as they fell.

He extended his arm holding Orcist, curving his shoulders in to absorb as much of the fall with his body. They hit the mossy ground hard and rolled down the slight knoll.

Mistlynn was gasping as they came to a stop, finding herself pinned directly underneath him. He pushed himself up onto his elbows on either side of her head. “Are you alright?” He scanned her face quickly, looking for any sign of distress.

She nodded her head. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, appeased for the moment before he pushed himself up onto his knees and reached back to unravel their legs that were still tightly wrapped with the rope.

He jumped to his feet and pulled her quickly onto hers. “Stay here.” He ordered her firmly before he rushed off to join the others fighting the still rampaging spiders.

She watched wide eyed as they fought the two massive creatures. These two were proving harder to kill due to their daunting size. One of the guards got tossed into a tree when one of the spiders spun in retaliation. She winced as the guard crumbled to the ground, knocked unconscious from the impact.

A glint from the corner of her eye drew her attention. She looked over and saw Thorin’s boot dagger, still embedded in the moss. Her hand twitched in reflex. She looked back over at the ensuing fight, and she made up her mind.

One of the spiders was dying, nearly all of its legs severed in the upturned earth while the other, the bigger of the two, was still fighting strong.

She was done standing at the sidelines. She was the reason why they were all in this mess. She would not be idle in this fight, She stood fully, ignoring the protests of her sore body and rolled her shoulders and neck.

She let out a steadying breath, calming her nerves before she launched herself into a sprint to grab dagger.

The spider reeled back onto its back legs, shrieking in outrage as its front legs flailed, attempting to knock the dwarves over. Dwalin’s spun his axe, clipping one of the bigger legs and severing off a chunk from it.

“This bastard is one of the biggest one's I’ve seen!” he grunted as he dodged another jabbing limb.

Kili shot another arrow and watched in dismay as it bounced off the spiders abdomen. “I’m almost out of arrows!”

“Aim for its eyes!” Thorin yelled before he rolled to the side, swinging out and nicking another leg.

“Since when do they have this thick of a skin?” Fili growled in exasperation.

“Focus on his legs. He can’t fight us with no bloody legs.” The spider squealed with a high pitch that made Thorin grit his teeth as it painfully cut through his eardrums as Orcist sliced one of the big legs clean off, making it lose its balance momentarily before it rose high on its remaining legs.

“Bleedin bastard!” Dwalin cursed as he swung his battle axe in preparation for the counterattack. “Now ‘es pissed!”

Another one of Kili’s arrows buried itself into one of its eyes, and the spider’s body convulsed with rage before it charged at them.

Mistlynn placed the cold metal of the dagger between her teeth as she began to scale the tree, despite the screaming muscles in her arms. The sounds of the bloody battle filled her ears as she glared at the thick branch that seemed to be miles above her.

She bit down on the blade as she pushed herself harder as she fought to find purchase on the slick, moss covered bark. She heard a shout of surprise and turned to look over her head to see Kili, who had run out of arrows, go flying into another guard as the spider lashed out viciously.

A snarl emitted in her throat as she climbed with a renewed fervor. She finally reached the thick branch and pulled herself up onto it and settled into a balanced crouch. She pulled the dagger from her mouth and held it firmly in her grasp before she began to slink across the branch.

She stopped at the midpoint of the branch, just as it began to bend with her weight. She looked down and found herself directly above the unsuspecting spider. Its back of its upper body was hairy yet appeared to be lacking the armor like shell that was making it rather difficult to kill from the ground.

Her nostrils flared as she braced herself, her hand clenching the dagger hilt in preparation before she launched herself off the branch and into a lethal freefall.

She fell exactly on the upper back of the spider, straddling its body perfectly between her thighs. Before the spider could arch up, she raised the dagger with both hands on the handle before plunging into the soft flesh of the spider.

The dwarrow’s mouths fell open in shock as they watched Mistlynn repeatedly plunge the dagger into the body of the spider with a fierce speed. Black blood splattered across her pale skin as the spider shrieked in agony as it convulsed in the beginning of its death throws. Its legs quaked as they collapsed, Mistlynn still stabbing the spider, landing one last death blow right through its head.

The spider collapsed instantly, and Mistlynn leaned over the dagger, her hands slick with the black blood as she fought to regain her breath.

“Great Yavanna.” One of the guards breathed in shocked awe as Mistlynn raised her head to look at them directly. Her gaze met Thorin’s as the adrenaline began to slow in her veins.

“Well, that’s one way to do it.” Fili smirked as Kili began to laugh. “That was insane! What you just did!”

Thorin sheathed Orcist and approached her quickly. “Are you alright?” he took in her shaking form as she came down from her fighting high.

“Y-yes. I am just tired of these demon spiders.” Her voice cracked as she stood on shaky legs and looked down in disgust at her hands. “Sorry about your dagger.” She muttered, as she looked at the unrecognizable head of the spider where the dagger was still lodged.

Dwalin approached as Thorin wretched the dagger out of the spider. “Bah, it will clean up nicely.” His bushy eyebrows were raised as he appraised Mistlynn with a new level of respect. “Ye started this day off on my bad side but I think I can let that go after watchin that.”

Mistlynn tried to hide her grimace as she shifted her weight so that she could remove herself off the spiders back. “What a relief. Would hate to think I did all of that for nothing.”

“You dont seem alright.” Thorin accused as he watched her sluggish movements.

“You aren’t exactly a lightweight.” She joked, but she realized quickly it was the wrong thing to say as she watched his eyes widen in alarm.

He reached for her, but she batted his hand away. “I am joking. I am fine! Just give me a second to recuperate, yeah?”

“That reminds me, how did you both wind up in that snare?” Kili gave Thorin and Mistlynn a mischievous smirk as he began to pull his arrows out of the spider’s carcass.

Mistlynn groaned as Thorin shot Kili a warning look.

Fili huffed out a laugh. “I got to admit, that was the last thing I ever expected to see was the two of you hanging by your feet surrounded by spiders.”

Dwalin gave Thorin a sidelong look, while the dwarf king tried his hardest to avoid his friends questioning gaze.

“I stepped into it when I heard you guys yelling like a bunch of ninnies. He tried to pull me out of it but it caught him too. There? Satisfied?” Mistlynn set her hands defensively on her hips as she looked at both Fili and Kili before shooting a challenging look at each guard before settling on Dwalin.

“Now can we please leave this god’s forsaken forest?” she could see they were all fighting to contain their smirks and laughter in the face of her irritation.

Only Thorin was looking at her with something akin to concern. Her stomach twisted at the thought. She couldn’t handle any more of this, she had to get away from him as soon as possible before she said or did anything else that would give away any glimpse of the turmoil she was dealing with inside. It was bad enough that he had seen her at her absolute worst after she lost his coronation present in the spider infested woods.

************

Taglist:

@fizzyxcustard @mrsdurin @lathalea @exhausted-humxn-being @dustie-faerie

#thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #erebor #thorin and company #thorin durin #thorin fanfiction #hobbit thorin oakenshield #hobbit fanfic #hobbit thorin oakenshield x oc fanfiction #fili durin #kili durin #dwalin #creative writing #alternative ending

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bigdsgirl · 4 months ago

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Love Next Door, Episode 14 thoughts

It's sunday, I have thoughts on this damn show

NO I DONT WANNA RE LIVE THIS! AND SHE IS ALL HE THINKS ABOUT?? I will combust.

a CONTEST????? WHAT???

i think Seok-ryu should work at this guy's restaurant or help at her dads!

the faith he has in her to win! i love that about each other, they are each others biggest champions!

As someone who works in public health, i freaking love that the Korean Vegetable Association held this! LETS GOOOO!!!

Mom standing there with popcorn! Girl, gimme some that bag is huge.

I hope this episode is the Dan-ho and Mo-eum show! I love my babies! <3

Tell me the truth, why in the heck are you so against this??explain?? i need to know unless i am dumb and missed it. WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN TO MY YEON-DU?? WHY!!!

he said i can't quit you! (southern drawl)

oh, so we are fighting her mom now? oh wtf, this is uncalled for! we do not call my girl Yeon-du pitiful!!

decrease your work load? pray tell? GETTING MARRIED????? OH LORD. i just know this is gonna get messy.

the ta-da has me rolling, seung-hyo, the comedian you are

okay the advice she is giving is actually solid..... hmm, i have reservations. okay she is apologizing i think? whew.

BESTIE TIME!! HELL YEAH!!

"why does your story have so many twists and turns?" pot meet kettle. not the SPIT TAKE!!

seung-hyo looks soooooooooooo good in that blue striped shirt. blue is your color sir!

oh yes! dan-ho and seung-hyo guy time! now tell him you love mo-eum! right now! ugh they are talking about house improvements for the community, i'll let it slide.

oh fuck yes, getting to the good bits. i love meddling and matchmaking (when it's fun) - the acting of 'surprise' this is fucking hilarious.

"Im not an entertainment reporter but that was terrible" TELL THEM!

OH MY GOD THIS KISS !! SCREAMING!! not the getting up because he cant take it. "why did you stop?" LMFAO. these two. i will die.

okay that confession was so sweet 😭😭

reconnaissance on the snack shop, i love it - omfg wait mom is there? they are staking the place out! that's right queen, know thy enemy! awh shit, it's good.

aw, he is so down. this is breaking my heart. the reality of it all.

oh yes i love this! support her to get NerTube famous 😎

not the most beautiful person comments. BYE

i s2g he better be recording this because that was fucking cute

damn it he wasn't - a crime. 😤

not the brother hitting her with the "don't fall for me" - lmfao

not her buying mom bread since she is gonna continue seeing dan-ho!! damn right!

i get she is saying its going to be a heavy load taking on a child... but jfc can we have a normal conversation about this?

everything she wants Mo-eum to have? why in the fuck can't she do that with Dan-ho? and Yeon-du? AM I MISSING SOMETHING?

huge compliments to the writer for seok-ryu's parents arc. it's so real and i really do like their marriage, especially with the flaws they have as humans. 💗and the CUT TO THEIR WEDDING PHOTO?

me when i realize it's proposal day:

will it go well? lmfao absolutely not. it's only episode 14!

bahahah everything going wrong today, oh this is gonna be good. we got shower not working, burning with the iron! oh is this perhaps a sign? SIR?

ugh the cost of trips like these -- we gotta be firm about the budget friends! <3

my boys getting drunk again! uh oh!

ooooo fancy flowers! I do love those blooms <3 oh girl is not read for this at all.

PRO TIP FOR ANYONE PROPOSING TO SOMEONE THEY LOVE: the moment of a proposal can be a surprise, but the proposal itself should not be!

the CAR ACCIDENT LMFAOOOO - i do love that hes like we can fuck off and go to the hospital.

aw bringing her to the building he designed is so cute! oh this man is trying to drop fucking HINTS.

THIS MANS WIFE IS IN LABOR? AND HES HERE? OMFG WTF.

"I still have a chance" - brother no please cut your losses now. the universe is sending hints for a REASON.

and he trips. phenomenal.

oh she's offering to pay for the cruise? I know she is gonna do the 'noble thing', but queen. take the free trip. TAKE IT. of fucking course she is gonna lash out. please stop, right now. SToP FiGhTING!

oh fantastic lol, right when seok-ryu and seung-hyo's relationship is going up, their parents start fighting.

literally sobbing over the comment. fuck man that is so sweet.

i love seok-ryu's heart and desire for cooking and making videos. gosh its beautiful.

wait what the fuck im dying the proposal is actually sweet. andshe is gonna say..... no.... oh a fancy bracelet?? WHAT?

"I can't marry you" wait why can't? ma'am! but also sir did need to come down from reality.

"REJECTED SAYS WHO?" ME BITCH LOL.

I love how sad his voice when he said Dan-ho's name. besties 4ever!

alright Dan-ho, it's your time to give advice. knock him down a peg, he needs it. damn it, no Dan-ho don't do the hungry bit. you dumb dumb.

now the men are meddling, this is fucking everything to me. i love this friendship.

my little FAMILY WALKING TOGETHER!!! gosh i love the three of them. oh the flashback for the shoe laces, aw <3

i am going to combust, my gif queens someone please do the scene of the three of them walking <3

oh that god she got over it! yay! family dinner!

the way he slinks in to the snack shop LMFAO

lol the way they are both so PEEVED!!! HAHAH "this is betrayal!"

my man is drunk again at the stand and she is calling him out for it!! i like this stand owner!

we back at the bench. where he said his parents dont think of him. and now we are here due to the rejection! oh goodie!

well at least we are asking directly. because i want to know too!

NOT THE COOKING ROMANCE REFERENCES!

"you are my sesame oil" this lil drunkard

the housing references now omg ow.....

"why do you think we would live long lives" -> awe fuck girl, not because you are scared about getting sick again!!! wtf!!!

"Life is finite and death is inevitable" thanks seung-hyo, i already cried today

"there is one thing I can tell you for certain. I want to spend my life with you" alright okay these people

OH THANK GOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!! <3

the "one hundred years, ten years, one day, it has to be with you"

OH FUCK SHIT THEY ARE FOUND OUT aJGLDFAGKJADFG

the thunderclap BAHAHAH

oh we in it now friends

LOL it's gonna get feisty. But I must know now, will Mo-eum go to Antarctica??? HELLO?? I'll wait, it's fine.

#kdrama #heidi watches #love next door #lnd

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ecosystem-administrator · 5 months ago

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Halcyon

Timeline: Mid 7.0, mild Dawntrail spoilers past the level 95 mark

Erenville and Mayhem are traveling north together; Mayhem has found a feather; a discussion occurs between two people who rarely speak of themselves

“Hey, Erenville! Look what I found!” Mayhem grinned brightly as they approached him. “Pretty, right? Do you know what it comes from?”

Erenville took it thoughtfully, testing the weight of it against his fingers. “I believe this is the tailfeather of a ringed kingfisher,” he answered, handing it back over. “This is the northern end of their range, but they’re a fairly common sight. If it was only the one feather, it probably molted off as a part of their natural replacement cycle.”

“Nice to know I’m probably not stealing from the dead.” They placed it behind one ear and tilted their head, fluttering their eyelashes coquettishly. “What do you think, how’s it look? I blend in a little better with some feathers, don’t you think?”

Erenville was already turned half away. “A little bit, perhaps. …You don’t really carry yourself the same way as the local Hhetsarro though.”

They paused, and shook their head, taking the feather back into their fingers so it wouldn’t flutter away. It was pretty, maybe they really could have it attached to a hair clip or something. “Oh, I know. I don’t really blend in anywhere. Part of the charm of being me, right?”

Something in their tone must have leaked through, because Erenville turned back to them with a slight frown. “I…didn’t mean to give offense,” he offered, with a hesitance Mayhem had rarely heard from him.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just true.” They smiled at him, feeling the corners of their mouth turn sardonically. “…You wondered why at one point in our journey I seemed to get along with Koana better than Lamaty’i. The truth is, it’s because I was an orphan of the tribes, too, in my own way. They didn’t abandon me - my mother was killed and I was raised by the Conjurers’ Guild in Gridania. But when I was old enough I thought about moving in with them, and…I realized I’d never be welcome as I am. You’re probably traveled enough to know why.”

“Gender roles in Miqo’te tribes are very defined,” Erenville answered softly, reciting as if from a textbook. “Although some allow for transition from one to another, there is little flexibility for those who would prefer not to conform.” His brow furrowed sympathetically. “I hadn’t thought of how that might impact someone in your shoes.”

Mayhem shrugged. “And on the other hand, you know how Gridania treats Keepers of the Moon in general. …I’ve been an outsider since the day that I was born. My choices were pretty much either learn to embrace it and deal with my personal business on my own, or else spend my whole life trying to become something I can never reach.” They shook their head. “Gods, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. You didn’t ask for my life’s story.”

“But I’m interested to hear it.” Mayhem’s eyes widened as they turned to meet Erenville’s gaze and found him looking directly at them for once, something vulnerable in his eyes. “That is…for all that you’re so adept at learning other people’s stories, I feel like I rarely hear anything about yours. You keep everything close to your chest.”

At that, they couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Pot, meet kettle. But you’re right. It’s a bad habit and you’d think I’d have learned to break it by now.” Their smile back at Erenville was a little more genuine this time. “After all, we’ve journeyed enough together, I’d like to think we’re friends by now.”

As Erenville smiled back, Mayhem thought that something in his demeanor relaxed just a little, a long-held tension leaving his body. “I had rather hoped so as well,” he acknowledged.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2024 #mayhem #erenville #dawntrail spoilers

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ride-thedragon · 2 years ago

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At this point I think as a fandom, we've lost some of the crackship charm we once had. I can look up Ashara Dayne and Ser Davos and find results, But Nettles and Helaena have nothing. It's time to rectify that for my favourite girl and try to inspire some fanfics. Feel free to add more.

1. Daeron and Nettles

Think Enemies to Lovers, Captive of War drama like Jaime and Brienne or just some good old Gwen and Arthur-inspired love. Ivy by Taylor Swift coded, a She's all that inspired affair. I genuinely think that he's just trying to be there for her with this one. It happens and neither of them realise until You're in Love starts playing.

2. Baela and Nettles.

They would give the pot calling the kettle black in every argument. The Princess Bride-esque dynamic between them. Very Graham and Megan from but I'm a Cheerleader. Sapphic Pinning and Resentment should be its own genre. Sir Chloe's Michelle is my vision. We can even make a throuple with them and Jace or Alyn. Truly, I think they but heads until they kiss, building on resentment. I also think they would be the coolest couple.

3. Addam and Nettles

Kaz and Inej core.

But in all seriousness, I think Addam being loyal and Duty bound and Nettles challenging that idea is delicious. Solider of Duty x Solider for the People. A modern-day Persuasion story but gender-flipped if we put our minds to it. See you Again Kali Uchis and Tyler the Creator, that's all.

4. Nettles and Helaena

They just deserve better. That's all. Give me cottagecore sapphic romance with my best girls involves. Like the young lesbians from Barbie and the Diamond Castle. Lesbians raising kids together. Sheepstealer and Dreamfyre hatching eggs for the nieces and nephews. I just-

It would be so cool, I will by Mitski sentiment is already attached.

5. Alyn and Nettles

Now that we are here obviously she apologized for Sheepstealer, she doesn't need to but she did, He tries not to like her but can't help it. She wins him over and they hatch him an egg or something idk. Think The Princess Diaries: Royal Engagement, Mia and Nicholas, Flipped the movie if you will. Jealously plots would slay. For the song choice think Shameless Camila Cabello. Please remember that Alyn is younger than Netty by 3/4 years though.

6. Rhaena and Nettles

See now this is classic Friends to Lovers, Emma and Harriet if gay, perhaps, Bend it Like Beckham core definitely. Sofia by Clario inspired. Nettles doesn't leave Rhaena out because she's without a dragon and the same happens inverse. Sapphic confusion however, like Rhaena doesn't understand at first why she feels that way.

7. Nettles and Jace.

Now for the Mr Knightley and Emma Woodhouse of our time, the Kate and Anthony of Westeros. The potential for her just not listening to him when he tries to tell her how to ride a dragon. Or when she talks to him about the people he'll rule over eventually, Ygritte and Jon style. She's also the only bastard who doesn't look Targaryen, he can relate to that a bit. I think she's Fierce and he's Stubborn. Ungodly Hour by Chloe x Halle for them.

8. Nettles and Alys.

The Fire Witches of Westeros. I think they will be perfect as a ship. American Horror Story-esque characters. The two Witches in the story are obviously my favourites. It would be Jennifer's Body meets, the craft meets, and Suspiria. Willow by Taylor Swift becomes them.

This one was also a bonus more or less.

Anyways I just need to start to get a baseline story for my girl by the time the show gives her to us. So we have a general sense of direction, I'm tired of the mischaracterization of my baby. She's smart, resourceful, Cunning, Fearless, and not entirely loyal. She also curses, enough for it to be a character trait. Please remember this for her, I'm tired. I also know that Daemon loved her but she's too much fun as a character to limit her to him romantically in all her fanfictions, it is an interesting narrative to explore while we don't have exact answers but he gets romantic ships with anyone. She deserves more.

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theboywithburninghands · 8 months ago

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Next chapter is a go! This is definitely a little more OC heavy than the others, but I figured some of the peripheral characters needed developing as well. Also I did a lot of research on rehabilitation for this one, just a fun fact I suppose. @fernstarsblog Enjoy!

T/W: Era-appropriate sexism, drugs and alcohol, addiction and withdrawals, implied vomit

Primum Peccatum Ch. 12: I Need a Doctor, Call Me a Doctor

Jax Krolik paced back and forth across The Rooker Estate’s sitting room. He had finished his last bottle of laudanum last night, overdoing it to calm himself down after the miserable dinner with his family. He told Pomni he would try to go easier on the opium that night, but that was a lie. He’d grown so accustomed to it that he needed a substantial amount of opium to get him anywhere close to relaxed anymore. Even with a few extra drops of poppy, his dreams involved his father, monstrous and veiled in shadow, kicking down the door to the Rooker Estate and dragging him out of the house by the ankle to goodness knows where. So here he stood, guilty, paranoid and restless. He needed more opium.

The restlessness that came first from opium withdrawal was unbearable. A faint, burning sensation throughout the body more aggravating than the thirstiest mosquito’s bite, with no way to itch it apart from more laudanum. He felt like he could jump off the pier, swim the half-mile to Blackshell Bay, and bribe the hospital for a bottle of the stuff right now. They would hardly miss it, he needed it more. Not even the entire bottle, just a few drops. Two at the most. Just enough to tide him over until Kali arrived. Where was she anyway?! He felt very much like peeling his own skin off.

“Mr. Krolik, would you like some beans on toast?” Kinger called from the other room.

“No thank you, Mr. Rooker,” Jax replied.

“You really must eat, my boy. Your wedding will be soon, you can’t be looking haggard for that.” Kinger called.

“Respectfully, I said no thank you, Mr. Rooker.” Jax called back, his tone more rigid.

“Dear me. Perhaps a cup of tea?”

Jax bit hard on the back of his hand to keep from shouting. He had no appetite, but he could get Mr. Rooker to stop badgering him if he accepted one of his offers.

“A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you. One sugar please.” Jax called out.

“Splendid!” Kinger declared. There came the sound of crockery from the kitchen, and Jax heard the stove being lit. There was a sharp knock at the door, Jax’s ears pricking up.

“Oh, one moment!” Kinger waved out his match and flicked it into a flower pot three quarters full with spent matches. “Goodness, it’s been ages since I’ve had a visitor…”

He walked into the foyer, Jax peering out from the sitting room doorway. Kinger unlocked his front door.

“Oh, Miss Shutnyk! Good to see you, how long has it been?” Kinger cried. Jax swiftly ducked back into the sitting room.

“Hello, Mr. Kinger. Have you met Kali Krolik?”

Jax paused mid-stride and peeked his head back into the foyer.

“I don’t believe I have!” Kinger exclaimed. “What a pleasure it is to see Pomni making new friends.”

“Er, Mr. Rooker, we have met already. It was just a few days ago…” Kali said,

Jax managed his usual smile and approached the two women from behind Kinger.

“Well, if it isn’t my lovely fiancée and charming sister-in-law. What brings you here? Surely not myself.” Jax said. That sounded rakish enough, certainly…

“Hello, Jax. Yes, we did come to speak to you, as a matter of fact. Mr. Kinger, may we come in, please?” Pomni asked, her hands behind her back.

“Of course, always! I just put the kettle on, let me add some more water. Would you like a cup of tea, Mrs. Shutnyk?” Kinger asked.

“That would be very gracious of you, sir. Would you like a tea cake to go with that?” Kali offered her basket.

“Ahhhh, these are just like the kind my late wife used to make. What did you use as a filling? Boysenberry?” Kinger asked, picking up and examining a cake.

“Raspberry, although my father-in-law’s caretaker Zuzanna is the one that makes them. They’re an old Edicaran recipe.” Kali explained with a smile.

“Ediacara? Well, błogosław ma duszę! Nie byłem tam od lat, so my vernacular may be a bit spotty.” Kinger said. “I visited Ediacara ages ago with my Queenie, we went to see Czerwona Pustynia before they restricted foreign access.”

Pomni and Kali exchanged incredulous looks before looking back at Kinger.

“Mr. Kinger, I don’t believe you’ve ever informed me that you’ve been to Ediacara.” Pomni said, awestruck.

“Ah, I must have over the years, haven’t I? I went there when you were still a twinkle in your father’s eye. We were studying the insects there. Did you know that there’s a-”

Jax cleared his throat rather loudly. “Terribly sorry for the interruption, but may I speak with my sister-in-law? We have some personal matters to discuss…”

Kali glanced at Pomni, who nodded. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“Jax. I will no longer bring you any more laudanum. You’ve grown dependent on it and I’m worried for your health.”

Jax’s yellow eyes widened. He put a trembling paw to his mouth.

“What…? Kali… Y-You shouldn’t speak of such things in front of-” Jax began.

“I’m already privy to the situation, Mr. Krolik. As for Mr. Kinger, he’s been gracious enough to open his guest wing to you.” Pomni replied.

Pomni turned to Kinger, who looked on in bewildered concern.

“Kinger, my fiancé has struggled for almost five years now with inebriety. You see, his brother-”

“Ms. Shutnyk! I would prefer you didn’t divulge my personal information!” Jax interjected.

“I’m afraid I must,” Pomni replied coolly. “If we are going to free you from the shackles of this vice, only our parents and Boone need be left in the dark. We must inform Altonicus so you may obtain the proper medication as well.”

“Absolutely not! I refuse to allow that! Alton can’t know that I’ve been… He mustn’t find out…” Jax’s anger tapered off.

“Kali, why don’t you discuss this with Jax? Alton is your husband, after all. I will inform Mr. Kinger of our dilemma in finer detail.”

Pomni took the basket of pastries from Kali and turned back to Kinger, smiling. “That cup of tea sounds quite pleasant, Mr. Kinger. Shall we move into your kitchen?”

“Yes my dear, of course. I am alarmed, but rather intrigued…” Kinger said, leading her into his kitchen.

Kali coughed a bit from the musty air. Jax sat himself on the staircase and placed his head in his paws.

“I’m sorry, Jax… I suppose this secret had to come out sooner or later.” Kali said with a fake smile.

“I have a headache,” Jax replied.

“Well, I’ve known your older brother for ten years… and I’ve never met a kinder man. Alton will understand, won’t he..?” Kali asked.

“How should I know?” Jax answered tersely.

Kali sniffled and covered her mouth, looking off towards the front door.

“I’m sorry… I had no idea the rut I was digging us into when I gave you that tincture… How was I supposed to know one or two doses were enough to addict you? I-I just wanted you to be able to get some rest… I’m sorry…”

Jax closed his eyes. He felt a headache throb to the rhythm of his heartbeat behind his right eye. He had begun sweating. He needed opium, or his symptoms would worsen into full-body sickness. He desperately needed opium.

“I… I hope Alton takes the news at least somewhat well… But it would not surprise me in the least if he’s furious.” Kali had begun pacing about the foyer. “It’s hardly unwarranted, after all; his wife pilfering opium from his own stores to feed the addiction she fostered in his youngest brother? For years, no less?! Ha, I would divorce me too! I… don’t deserve forgiveness, do I?”

Jax looked up at Kali.

“No, I deserve worse than divorce… I deserve time in prison. Maybe there I can make amends with myself, at least. The Allfather knows my soul has blackened enough from my misdeeds that I’ve no chance of seeing The Hereafter. I… I…”

Kali stifled a sob, only to feel a set of arms wrap around her torso. Jax put his chin on Kali’s shoulder.

“Kali. You’re my older sister. You’ve helped me through so much pain, long, long before I fell from that bridge. Even if the worst happens, you will always be my older sister. I love you…”

Kali burst into tears, turning and wrapping her arms around her younger brother’s shoulders. He hugged her equally as firmly, tears wicking off his eyelids.

—

About an hour later, Pomni had an entire plan formulated. The main objective of said plan was to hopefully completely eliminate Jax’s opium addiction. Even if that meant postponing the date of the wedding. Of course, there would be difficulties.

The first and most pressing was withdrawals. According to Pomni’s research, opium withdrawal typically involved symptoms including, but not limited to: hot and cold flashes, head and body aches, stomach distress, insomnia and anxiety. To mediate this, Pomni intended on recruiting Altonicus for help with the medical treatment, and she planned on helping with whatever else was needed.

The second difficulty was discretion. No one was to know about Jax’s struggles with withdrawal except for Pomni, Kinger, Kali and Alton. To everyone else, Jax had caught a vicious and persistent case of the flu. The most important individual to be kept out of the loop was Jax’s father. Given the man’s temper and draconian behavior, it wasn’t known what exactly would occur should he find out about the goings-on at The Rooker Estate. It was generally agreed that if he did become aware, some manner of contingency plan would be enacted, but Pomni was still in the process of formulating one. As a result, Boone, Osvaldo and Zuzanna were forbidden to know the truth as well due to their proximity to Drexl, along with Pomni’s parents.

The third difficulty was time. Jax needed time to completely recover, and the wedding was in two weeks. If they postponed the date too many times, suspicions would be aroused. As a result, Pomni thought it best to get started immediately. No more laudanum at all. That way his body would flush out everything faster. It would be excruciating, but it was a necessary evil, and Pomni was willing to help every step of the way. She had grown somewhat fond of the rabbit, after all…

—

Kali returned to Blackshell Bay in the late afternoon. She had thought about going to confession to speak to Sister Ragatha one last time, but that was largely an excuse to prolong the inevitable. Altonicus would come looking for her if she dawdled too long, especially if he arrived home from work and she wasn’t there. The man could look after himself, of course, but he would worry, like any good husband should.

She arrived home around 4:00, made a quick salad for dinner, which she didn’t touch, and sat in their living room with a tumbler of bourbon, no ice. She sat and waited. The glass sat warm in her paw. She took not one sip.

At 6:30, Alton arrived home. Kali poured her drink out of the window and made a new one, pouring Alton a bourbon with ice and a bit of cold water, just how he liked it. She would take care of this as calmly as she could. Get him fed and relaxed with dinner and a drink, and then explain everything. No one wanted to hear bad news as soon as they walked in the door, after all.

“Kali, darling?” Alton called. No matter how tired or irritated he was from work, he was always happy to see her.

Kali came around the corner with his drink, managing a smile. Altonicus sat on the floor, removing his shoes and socks. He wriggled his pink toes and sighed with relief, even with his custom made loafers they were still too tight around his wide and flat rabbit feet. He looked up at Kali and smiled, only for it to fall right off his face.

“Kali..? What’s wrong dear?” he asked, climbing to his feet.

He saw right through it. Kali had no chance. She immediately broke into fresh sobs, setting the drink on the side table to keep from spilling it. Alton was over at her side in an instant, hugging her close to him and petting her ears.

“Darling… oh my goodness, what’s wrong? Talk to me…” he crooned.

They went to the sitting room and she told him everything. Down to the last detail, even up to that day. Alton remained silent throughout her whole explanation, only nodding occasionally or putting his hands to his mouth in contemplation. By the end, Kali’s tears had dried, but she kept her gaze firmly on the floor. She felt filthy and unlovable.

“I know that what I’ve done is horrid… but I felt I had no choice… He was in such agony and he was just a boy. None of it was his fault in the slightest..! I understand if I’ve killed all the trust in our relationship, but all these years I’ve been too frightened to tell anyone for fear of that… beast you call a father finding out and enacting his wrath on you, or me, or Jax. If you don’t love me any longer, I’ll-”

“Kali,” Altonicus interrupted. “Don’t speak such foolishness. You are the sun in my sky. I don’t hate you even a little bit. But, that said-”

Alton’s expression became severe. “Shame on you! Giving opium to a teenager? You’re lucky he’s only come away with an addiction, he could have overdosed! And you hid this for years?! Why didn’t you think to speak with me, am I truly so untrustworthy?!?”

Kali buried her face in her hands, Alton sitting up straighter at this.

“B-But you’ve been reprimanding yourself every day for your mistakes. I wouldn’t be doing any good shouting at you.”

Alton got to his feet and knelt beside Kali.

“You did the wrong thing. But you did it out of mercy, not sin. And thankfully, there’s time to fix it. Of course I still love you. I love you so, so much, my sweet little rabbit.”

He kissed her deeply and she melted into his embrace. Though tears ran from her eyes, they were of joy and relief.

“I suppose we’ll go and visit tomorrow, it’s a little late to catch the ferry. I’ll have to notify the hospital I won’t be attending. When was the last time Jax had a dose of laudanum?”

“Yesterday evening…” Kali wiped her eyes.

“Come again? It’s been almost 24 hours? And he’s had none since then?! Allfather above, Kali!”

Altonicus shot to his feet and ran into the hallway, picking up his doctor’s bag. “What time is it?”

“Erm… 6:56?”

“Blazes… we may still be able to catch the ferry if we run. Forget my shoes, let’s get going!” Altonicus said.

Kali put a hand on his shoulder. “Darling, wait! What is the matter?”

“I’m dreadfully sorry, but there isn’t time to chat, follow me!”

“Alton, I-”

—

The two of them found themselves on Blackshell Bay’s pier.

“-don’t know if- Wh… I… H-How did we get here?” Kali looked around, absolutely flummoxed.

“I… I don’t recall either. Perhaps we blacked out from running… I didn’t know that was possible… Regardless. Let’s purchase some passes. Time is of the essence.

—

Altonicus rapped on the door to The Rooker Estate. He perused his medicines on the ferry ride to the island, making sure he had everything he needed. Through some miracle, he did, despite rushing them both out of the house. He must have forgotten he packed them like how he had forgotten the run to the pier.

The door opened, revealing a shapeman resembling the king piece on a chessboard.

“Well hello, strangers!” he said, his voice jolly. “I’m afraid you’ve come ‘round at an inopportune time. A boarder of mine has become quite ill.”

“That’s precisely why I’m here, sir. I’m Dr. Altonicus Krolik. My youngest brother Jax is the one who’s fallen ill. May I please enter? I’d like to assist.”

Kali fought a smile despite herself. It was always quite amusing hearing her husband use his “doctor voice.” So very serious.

Kinger allowed them into the manor, Alton glancing around at the clutter before turning following him up the stairs towards the guest wing of the house.

“I should warn you, it is rather… aromatic in that room.” Kinger warned.

“That’s par for the course in my line of work, Mr. Rooker. But the warning is appreciated.” Alton said.

Kinger nodded, opening the door to the guest room. Alton stepped inside and immediately understood what Kinger meant. He was hit with a heavy, acrid stench, the unmistakable smell of someone having vomited. Kali let out a short exhalation and covered her mouth and nose.

The guest room was rather paltry in terms of decoration, only a red threadbare rug over the wooden floor. The furniture in the room consisted of a writing desk, piled high with papers of all description, on the left wall, a chest of drawers on the right wall, a bookshelf on the wall opposite the door, and a bed in the top left corner on a plain pinewood frame with white sheets, a single pillow and a gray woolen blanket. A curtainless window stood unopened beside the chest of drawers. Beside the door hung a small clock, the pendulum making a light “tap-top” sound with each swing.

Pomni Shutnyk sat beside the bed, having drawn up the desk chair and taken a book to read from the shelf. Said book appeared to be the most recent issue of a literary journal, and she dog-eared her page and set it down on the desk. She appeared to have put something under her nose. Liniment ointment, more than likely, to fight off the odor. In the bed lay Jax, draped in the blanket up to his chin and trembling severely. He sucked in breaths through chattering teeth, his eyes wide and wet, and stared thousand of miles away. His fur was damp with perspiration as were the sheets and pillow he laid on. Beside the bed lay a large mop pail, presumably for him to be sick into.

“Dr. Krolik. Thank goodness. I’m glad you could make the journey. I assume Kali has told you everything?” Pomni asked.

“I am up to speed. But is it true Jax has had no opium in almost 24 hours?” Alton moved over to the side of the bed, sitting in the desk chair and opening his bag.

“Yes, hence his current state.,.” Pomni said.

Altonicus pulled on some gloves and removed a number of vials, a few syringes and bandages, a thermometer and one tincture bottle of laudanum from his bag. He placed the thermometer under Jax’s tongue with feeble resistance, the glass clinking rapidly in his quaking jaw. He unscrewed the cap of the laudanum and filled the dropper about halfway up with the brown medicine. Pomni let out a soft gasp.

“Dr. Krolik, please don’t tell me you’re giving him opium..! The whole point of this ordeal is to-”

“With all due respect, I am a doctor, Ms. Shutnyk. I understand and appreciate that you’re well read, but I’m afraid your plan here is a might misguided.” Alton replied sternly. He placed the dropper back in the bottle and turned to his shuddering sibling, kneeling at his side and adopting a soothing tone of voice. “Jax? It’s me, it’s your eldest brother Altonicus. Are you with us, Jax?”

Jax flicked his eyes to Alton, but said nothing, appearing to look straight through him. Alton sighed a bit, taking out the thermometer.

“103.6. We need to lower that temperature posthaste. How many drops of laudanum does he normally take?” He asked anyone in the room.

Pomni spoke up. “I’ve seen him take two, but I find it quite imprudent to be giving-”

“Pomni. Again, I say this with the utmost respect. Hush.”

Alton’s deadly serious tone made Pomni close her mouth immediately.

He withdrew the dropper from the tincture bottle and gently tilted up Jax’s chin, opening his mouth. He placed a single drop of laudanum on Jax’s tongue, then ever so slightly pinched the rubber bladder of the dropper, pushing out a small bead of tincture on the end of the glass tube. He placed the bead onto Jax’s tongue and then replaced the dropper in the bottle, getting to his feet with a grunt of effort.

“I understand your goal, Ms. Shutnyk. The strategy you’ve adopted is known colloquially as ‘quitting cold turkey.’ Unfortunately, the complete cessation of a habit-forming narcotic is extremely dangerous. With some medications, halting the use of them completely can result in fits, or even death.”

“Death?” Pomni echoed.

“Now, opium withdrawal normally does not result in death, but, if we try the ‘cold turkey’ strategy, we run the risk of Jax violently relapsing from both cravings and to make the agony of withdrawal stop. And THAT could kill him.” Alton said.

Jax had gradually begun to stop trembling, lucidity somewhat returning to his eyes.

“A lightning cure…” Kinger said. “I suppose rabbitfolk do have a faster metabolism after all…”

“What I would recommend for addiction is a process called ‘tapering.’ There, we gradually reduce the dosage size of laudanum until he does not need it anymore. It is a much smoother and safer alternative, although it’s still quite unpleasant. You saw I gave him just one and a half drops instead of two? We’ll continue to reduce it over the next few days.”

“But… that will take longer, will there be enough time before the wedding?” Pomni asked.

“I’m not certain. Most likely, no, given how severe his dependency has become.” Alton said gravely. “But, I am willing to help you create a believable façade. I agree that my father needn’t know about any of this, or he’ll complicate things further.”

He knelt back down beside Jax. “Brother, what do you need? Are you back with us?”

Jax swallowed, shivered deeply and looked at Alton.

“…I’m quite cold.” he whispered.

Alton nodded, rising. “Very well. Then here is what must happen, everyone. Mr. Rooker, do you have spare sheets for this bed?”

“Hmm… I believe I do, yes. I’ll have to search for them.” Kinger said. “Or… have I thrown them away…?”

“Regardless, we need to strip the clothes from this bed and launder them. We will use whatever spares we have to keep Jax warm and dry while we do.” Alton turned to Kali. “Kali, I need you to get Jax into clean and dry clothes. I would do it, but I have to prepare his medicine. This isn’t too invasive for you, is it, dear?”

Kali shrugged. “I’m willing to do anything it takes to help. I am the reason he’s in this state anyway, aren’t I?”

“Nonsense,” Alton soothed. “But we shall discuss that later. Ms. Shutnyk, I assume from the bucket and the odor that Jax has been sick?”

“You are correct. Three times. I’ve rinsed the bucket each time.” Pomni replied.

“Then I’m entrusting you to perform general upkeep. Make sure Jax is hydrated and feed him when he can keep food down. If his cravings flare up, try and talk him through it if you can, although we can all help with that.”

“Feed him…?” Pomni echoed again. She was a dreadful cook. Zooble told her once that she could have patented “flammable water,” if such an invention weren’t utterly pointless.

“Remember that we’re rabbits, Ms. Shutnyk. Vegetables should suit him just fine.” Alton said with a smile. “Although I don’t believe he’ll want to eat anything tonight after all the distress he’s already been through. Very well, let’s get started. Mr. Rooker, you wouldn’t happen to have a telegraph, would you?”

“I believe so! I hope it still works…” Kinger said.

“I’ll have to send a telegram to the hospital tomorrow to let them know I’ll be unavailable… medicine first and foremost, though.” Alton said. He began to prepare some syringes.

Kali helped Jax to his feet. His nightshirt was damp with sweat and he took tiny, shuffling steps to walk. He held a hand to his head and groaned.

“I’m… sorry, Jax. I thought I was doing the right thing by having you stop entirely.” Pomni admitted, looking at the floor.

“…How long… How long have you been sat there looking after me..?” Jax mumbled.

“Since you laid down around one this afternoon. So…” she checked the clock. “Six and a half hours or so.”

Jax looked at Pomni blearily. For a moment or two he stared, but then he gained his familiar Cheshire grin.

“You’ve certainly grown to care for me in a short timespan, haven’t you?” he drawled.

Pomni felt herself blush. Why that insolent little…!

The grin slid from Jax’s face as he pressed his hand to his temple again, groaning.

“Come along, you rascal, I’ll help you into something dry so you can rest again.” Kali said, although she also wore an unmistakable smile.

The two of them slowly made their way into the washroom. Pomni shook her head, rolled her eyes and felt the corners of her mouth point upwards.

“Honestly…” she muttered. She went to fetch the largest glass she could find to fill with water. It would take a good amount of self-restraint to not tip the contents over his head.

#the amazing digital circus #funnybunny #tadc pomni #tadc jax #jax x pomni #oh no cringe #tadc arranged marriage au #tadc oc #tadc kinger #tw addiction #don’t do drugs kids #whump

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industria-adastra · 2 years ago

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[Twisted Wonderland x Puella Magi Madoka Magica] - What to do when you reload in the wrong universe? - [HEARTSLAYBUL] - PART 2

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Note: For some reason, formatting on tumblr is indeed a pain in the butt. Other than that here's an update

-----

It’s LUNCHTIME. The time when everyone would fistfight each other for the special meal of the day. Tbh NRC has nice lunches; it’s a freaking buffet, for goodness sake.

The group goes to get lunch, and things seem relatively peaceful. So of course, Grim starts a touch of chaos the moment Homura thinks it’s safe to let him go. Should’ve just kept Grim in a death grip until you got lunch, Homura.

By a touch of chaos, I mean Grim breaks someone’s (an upperclassman) carbonara spaghetti egg. And because NRC students don’t know when to pick their battles, they attempt to start a battle in the cafeteria (an awful decision, really).

Is Homura going to intervene? Am I going to make her intervene?

Yeah but not exactly in the way you’re guessing

She’s going to try, in her own way, to defuse the situation. This means as per tradition she’s going to actually make it escalate because Homura and persuasive speaking are like oil and water. Or maybe even like a grease fire and water.

Homura tries to bring up how stupid it is to, you know, fight with underclassmen over slightly damaged egg carbonara, of all things. An appeal to common sense (and a poke to their egos). Besides, weren’t they going to break the yolk anyways, since they were going to eat it? It’s a small, paltry thing to get so worked up about, in her all too blunt opinion.

This absolutely does not make the situation any better. In fact, it makes it worse, because now the seniors think they’re being condescended by a child.

Ace and Yuu think they have never seen someone so bad at defusing the situation they turn the fire up to eleven. Ace, however, is a shining example of a pot encountering a kettle and not realising it has shared traits. Perhaps this is also foreshadowing for Ace’s later unfortunate choice of language.

Due to plot convenience, these guys have about one brain cell rattling around in an abstract, collective shared mind space. They take one look at this kid and go “Freshman. Small. CAN TAKE ON IN A FIGHT.”

Actually, canon does kind of actively shove it in our faces how extraordinarily eager delinquent-type NRC students are to fight literally anyone. So maybe I am justified in making them try and fistfight a middle schooler.

They try to engage Homura in a fight. Aka they’re doing that thing where someone puffs out their chest and squares up (literally). Homura is trying to back out because:

She’s shown to be rather non-confrontational in canon.

In her experience, ignoring these people often works because they’re at least more bark than bite. (Or rather, Homura has sort of thought that by clamming herself up—metaphorically speaking—things won’t affect her as badly because before things…never really changed no matter how proactive she was (I am referring to both her past as a bullied child over something she had no control over, and her long-term experience with other volatile pubescent girls)

Homura would really like to not get punched in a cafeteria.

One of them attempts to get physical with Homura, who’s darting away as fast as possible. She’s not looking for a fight and would like to not show up to her next class looking like she just got in one.

Yuu is not having it. Deuce is not having it. Grim is not having it because while Homura scares him a little (read: a lot) he’s not gonna let these guys push around his #2 Henchman (henchwoman?). Ace is seemingly vibing in the background but actually, he high-key wants to see the guys get pummeled it’s a case of fire meets fire. Like, he’s a jerk himself but these guys were also jerks (also Homura is a little bit baby to him so it’s completely justified in his honest opinion.

Yuu is putting that swim training to good use by yoinking the offender’s arms and going “DO NOT.” Grim bites one of them. I don’t think he has magic rabies. Deuce wants to clock them but doesn’t because he’s in the public eye, so he just allows Yuu to go to town on them. Ace watches on the sidelines, noting Yuu’s great attachment to the girl with the magical equivalent of an automatic gun. He also thinks it’s hilarious that the mages are being bodied by the new non-magical student—conveniently ignoring the fact that Yuu most definitely never skipped arm, leg, and the rest of his body, day.

Homura is left wondering about the feeling one gets when people are willing to stand up for you. (She’s also left wondering if highschool would ever be as ridiculous as the one she was experiencing right now) Perhaps it’s a completely out-of-place feeling to be felt when watching someone body two people for you, but human emotions are irrational. To her, it’s a warm sort of feeling, even if she thinks she could’ve just dealt with it herself.

Mostly, I think Homura needs a few scenes to be protected, rather than constantly trying to be the strong one.

The fight is resolved, and everyone’s hungry. Yuu has an allowance for food and other necessities here because Crowley would get Mcmurdered Mcssasined in his sleep if the staff knew he basically dumped off a bunch of otherworlders into a large shack and called it a day. That and I ooc-ed him a little into someone that sees these kids/Homura and goes, ok maybe they need a little something, at least.

Just enough so that there are no additional PR problems. Or so he says to himself. Oh, he boasts about it for sure, but it sounds as phoney as always.

Elaborating on this: Crowley often boasts about his kindness/generosity when he’s…definitely not being generous. So I think when he is doing something because he actually cares, then he justifies it weirdly to himself. Of course, this is simply pure imagination, and not strictly in line with his canonically displayed personality.

I call it the “Homura sympathy effect”. When you see this emo little kid you just invite yourself in as her family/friend because it’s actually kind of depressing watching Homura if you observe carefully enough.

They finally buy lunch. Homura gets a plate of omurice. Yuu says it’s because Homura is a growing child. Homura is suddenly violently reminded that, yes, she can actually grow right now.

She does her best to not choke on her food. This means she instead stares blankly at her food as if she’s been confronted with a crisis of unimaginable proportions.

Oh god, Homura thinks, Madoka doesn’t exist. Oh god, she continues to monologue in her head, I can’t access my powers anymore.

(She can’t go back if something goes irreversibly wrong, wrong, wrong—)

The omurice, to her, tastes really good. The egg is fresh and creamy; the rice combined with the demi-glace sauce and the soft vegetables should be normal on her tongue but maybe it’s been years and years, and sometimes she’d find that food tasted like nothing at all.

(Distantly, Homura thinks that Madoka will never be able to eat something like this ever again. Distantly, Homura wonders when the taste of fresh food ever become so foreign to her.)

But I suppose any kind of actually fresh food would taste good if you’ve been sustaining yourself off determination and cup noodles.

Just the bare minimum so you don’t waste magic making up for hunger.

Yuu carefully watches her eat as he does so himself. Ace and Deuce are bickering in the background and Grim is tearing into his own food with gusto. Homura mechanically eats her meal with the precision of a surgeon and the speed of a machine. He hopes that Homura liked the meal. He wonders what Homura would normally eat, all alone by herself.

Yuu gets the feeling that Homura hasn’t really been eating well for quite some time.

And then Cater shows up.

Who is this guy? Homura has zero ideas. The rest of the group has many violent ideas. Oh, they tricked Yuu (and the others) into doing his work for him. Hm. (Down goes a couple of points for Homura’s opinion of Cater. While I’d say Homura does try her best to be not as judgemental as possible because goodness knows how much she herself has received, these are people she’s bonded with on some level, so a little bias (TM) comes into play. Even if Ace can be a jerk, and Grim's basically a bratty kid)

Ever the conversationalist, Homura’s as quiet as a church mouse. But that’s fine, since Cater’s deadlift the majority of the conversation anyways.

Cater is already evaluating the new member of the group aka Homura. He remembers Riddle complaining about certain people breaking school rules during the assembly. He is kind of surprised she's still here though, since knowing the headmaster Homura should've gone home by now. So there must be something…

She’s definitely a little…quieter, and more solemn and serious than he expected a fourteen-year-old to be. Cater definitely remembers his sisters never being like Homura. But it’s probably a personality variation thing. After all, everyone’s different, and Homura's no exception to the individuality of people in general.

Yet her eyes still unsettle him, ever so slightly. He's not sure if the freshmen and the other unsorted student(?) realize it, but Homura's eyes… There’s a hardness in them, and an emptiness that lingers. (He wonders if she was ever forced to grow up too quickly, forced to understand certain hard truths of reality too quickly.)

Although, maybe at least one of them realises it, seeing as Yuu’s practically hovering over her like an oversized mother hen. Well, it’s not really his problem to deal with anyways.

Cater laughs and smiles, acting casual and playing the perfect role of a relaxed upperclassman. He’s pretty sure it does nothing to ease their earlier grudges (which, well, fair enough—most NRC students aren’t really the forgive and forget type anyways)

And just in time for him (Cater’s one-hundred percent sure they’re all starting to get annoyed with him), Trey enters the scene, wielding his nonchalance like a well-sharpened sword. He’s polite, calm and collected—acting as a voice of reason even though he’s just slid to their table knowing full well their…colourful reputations in this school. (She had heart problems, not hearing problems)

Homura’s sorely reminded of Mami with this third-year, and his verbal slip regarding his less-than-stellar opinion of Ramshackle dorm (even if arguably justified) is one that has her also putting her opinion of him on the fence.

Cater brings up getting their numbers

The numbers are incompatible rip Cater (Homura simply didn’t bring up the fact that data roaming wouldn’t even apply in another world—he’d figure it out on his own later anyways. Or hear it from someone else. Whichever comes first.)

It’s not like isekai (aka inter-universal/inter-universal/inter-whatever) services are included in standard sims provided in Japan—no matter how prevalent the isekai genre is

But also I ask you all to imagine Cater looking at Homura’s utter desert of a contact list.

There’s like maybe three tumbleweeds and it’s:

The hospital she lived in for years on end

Her uncle(‘s secretary) — anyone who hasn’t read ANAI aka “As N Approaches Infinity” is missing out also screw Homura’s uncle in that fic he sucks

Mitakihara Middle School’s front desk

Yuu, in comparison, has like a bajillion phone numbers. All with their own little nicknames such as “Core day every day”, “Down bad for pixels”, “(Putting) The L in LGBT”, or “Mission control centre” (That actually refers to his family phone’s number)

Very awkward for Cater, and Yuu, who are either starting to get or are getting more information on how socially disconnected Homura might’ve actually been

Briefly, Cater wonders if Homura was homeschooled

Trey is having ✨flashbacks✨ to Riddle’s own upbringing and wondering if there’s any connection to the few phone numbers and an implication of a lack of friends. He puts that thought out of his mind because he’s not really in any position to pry (and we all know how well the first and last time he tried turned out)

Then Trey starts giving an intro on the dorms like a tutorial menu narrator

Of course, when the obligatory ‘Epel is as pretty as a girl” statement pops up, Ace can no longer call Grim and Deuce morons as NRC is no longer an all-boys school with the inclusion of Homura

Anyways, Lilia shows up(side down)!

Bat Gramps gives everyone a heart attack!! Homura wonders if this is how it feels to be on the other end of a time-stop

When Lilia says that Diasomnia is very hospitable and welcoming, instead of Silver and Sebek being 🗿 they are carefully inspecting (read: Silver is concerned but he looks dead serious. Sebek is less concerned and more “????they haven’t sent the tiny human back home??? Suspiscious.”)

Actually Sebek is both a little confused and a bit like “wow this new human child must be very good to still be here in a uniform”. Unfortunately for him he… looks more like he’s glaring.

Homura is 🗿 tho. She just wants to have a peaceful lunch what on earth is happening

Ofc since Homuhomu is here, canon diverts as in Lilia stays a little longer and flits around Homura like a bat from hell.

“My oh my, it’s you again. How have you been, young one?” (coming from someone who looks no older than 18)

“...I am…fine.” (be easy on her Homura’s doing her best)

Yuu just slides closer to her because who is this weirdo why is everyone in this school so weird maybe that’s what Magic highschool(™) actually does to people

To Homura, Lilia feels…odd. It’s not quite like Madoka (The Law of Cycles now), so young yet so wrapped within aeons of time; a newly born law, yet with a history beyond time. He feels more like Walpurgisnacht. There is an unspoken history behind this highschooler, and he’s just focused on her ring. Lunchtime was turning out to be terrible. Maybe it was a good thing she often skipped lunches at Mitakihara Middle School.

“Oh? Is that…?”

Homura has just given up and pretended she does not see™. If she tries to hide it she’ll draw unwanted attention. If she tries to explain she’ll give it unwanted attention and there was no guarantee her explanation would be credible enough. So she just… Did not see. If the others are interested they’ll watch anyways so it’s better to just pretend to be completely disinterested in the fact that Batman lite is staring at her literal soul—pretend it’s no biggie.

Of course, her body language has completely closed off, and now Yuu’s gently pushing away Lilia.

“Hey, maybe not so close, alright?”

“Of course, forgive me for that—and for disrupting your meal. I do hope we can converse again. ” He looks at Homura, Yuu, and Grim, before adding, “Especially the three of you.” Then he peaces out aka teleports back to his lunch

Of course, Ace still slanders Riddle at lunch like in canon. Even if Yuu frantically made abort motions. Homura just stares at the scene, already knowing how it’s probably going to pan out.

No one likes being talked about behind their back like that. She’d know a lot about how that felt like. After all, that’s what happened to her.

And wuh-oh wouldn’t you know? Riddle’s right behind Ace. Deuce puts Ace out of his misery. Yuu has his head in his hands. Homura quietly sighs and continues eating her lunch. Cater and Trey have stiffer smiles than overmixed egg-white mixtures. As Ace continues to dig his own grave—going past six feet and beyond, Homura takes the chance to observe Heartslaybul’s Housewarden.

Her first impression is that: He’s…not that much taller than her at all (Riddle is 160 cm whilst Homura is about 158 cm). But he looks incredibly prim and proper—definitely the image of what someone expects of a Dorm Leader.

Her second impression is that Riddle is rather strict. And very used to having authority, if the way Cater immediately folds to his words is any indicator of that trait. Perhaps Ace wasn’t completely wrong about his dorm leader being rather unyielding, personality-wise.

However, Ace…isn’t doing himself any favours at all, so Homura also chalks it up to Ace having zero brain-to-mouth filter.

Grim identifies him as the guy who sealed his magic, and Riddle, in turn, identifies them as the students who nearly got expelled + singles out Homura like Why are you still here??? Presumably as a student too if the magestone is any indication. To him, it breaks the rules and sets a bad example.

In fact, Riddle even starts a little speech about how rulebreakers only cause chaos, and shouldn’t be, under any circumstances, tolerated.

Aaand now Riddle’s reminding Homura of Sayaka, in a bad way.

So she goes: There is nowhere for her (and Yuu by extension) to go in Twisted Wonderland. They’re not inhabitants of this world (in case he uh, forgot that like how the story seems to often do that whenever you don’t know Disney/Japanese-inspired tradition #659 like an idiot because you come from planet Earth), therefore NRC kind of does need to bend the rules for them unless they want bad PR (She’s seen enough of what her Uncle used to get up to in the hospital through magazines, social media and the television. He flung around money and time as if there was nothing else to live for but his own hedonism.)

Riddle, of course, at this stage of the story, rejects that notion because he thinks there could be other alternatives. Bro is debating with a 14 year old.

Yuu, as nice and kind as he is, also gives his two cents. As in, “I sure hope you can get Crowley to reconsider then.” He says this with a singular (1) eyebrow raised whilst wiping Homura’s mouth.

Homura is blue-screening for a hot five minutes because wow ok that was ???? Yuu asked, “Is anyone gonna take care of this kid?” and did not wait for a single reply.

Ace tries to get his collar removed even though he shit-talked Riddle in front of his face. Ace has balls bigger than Jupiter I guess. Not that it’s helping him or anything.

Homura also bears witness to Riddle’s ability to memorise rules. Not all 810 of them but he definitely knows his rules if he’s jumping from rule 271 to rule 339. He still reminds her of Sayaka in a bad way though. All too unyielding to others.

Hopefully for him, it won’t be to the very bitter end.

Oh, and she also learns that Trey is vice-housewarden, which… She supposed there probably was an alternative reason as to why Cater and Trey approached them—seeing the way they interacted with Heartslaybul’s Housewarden.

And judging from the loud displays of dismay from surrounding Heartslaybul students, not only is Riddle a strict and unyielding dorm leader, but he also has his dorm students under an iron-clad grip.

Trey tries to do a little damage control after low-key informing everyone of Riddle’s extreme magical prowess (strong enough to become Housewarden before the end of his first week at school). He does so by attempting to soften the blow of Riddle’s actions by basically saying: he’s not a bad guy and everything he does is because he thinks it’s better for the dorm.

Which, to be honest, Homura has heard many variations of that. Hell, she’s basically done outwardly terrible actions in the name of the greater good (for her friends). (Not like it ever worked)

She can get that.

But Riddle still did mildly get on her nerves, even if Homura would never show that in a million years or resets.

Grim, thankfully, raises the question of the ethics of Riddle collaring anyone as he pleases—although it’s less that and more him airing out his own grievances with getting collared and having his magic sealed too.

Both Yuu and Homura are quick to remind Grim that it was kind of his fault for, you know, setting the hall on fire.

Diverging from canon again, this time it’s Ace and Deuce who ask about Unique Magics and thus Riddle’s particular Unique Magic. Now that they re-explain what Riddle could do with his Unique Magic… Homura is sure she’ll have to be careful around him.

She doesn’t want to know what would happen if she gets collared.

Would there be a way to learn how to prevent it from being applied to someone?

Of course, back to the story: Riddle’s loud and clear live demonstration of “Off With Your Head” does him no favours in portraying him as someone wanting the best for his students.

And as we skip past the further dialogue on Grim’s opinion of the Unique Magic’s name (i.e. completely bonkers and terrifying), Cater’s explanation of why exactly it feels so terrible to have a collar (mostly for Yuu’s benefit), and Trey attempting to downplay it by going “As long as you follow the rules, you’ll be fine. Riddle isn’t that scary.”

We stop at Ace asking if he legitimately can’t be let into the dorm if he doesn’t get a replacement tart for the one he ate.

He can’t. In addition to that, it’s also an established rule. Homura thinks that’s kind of a stupid rule. Yuu outright says that it’s kind of a weirdly harsh rule. I mean, replacing what you unfairly took is important, but taking away your room whilst you haven’t…didn’t sound like the best rule.

Ace would like to add that it is, in fact, a really harsh rule—since he’s the one getting collared and being left without a place to sleep in (something that could’ve happened if Ramshackle wasn’t inhabited by Yuu, Homura and Grim, who tidied up some part because they are on another level of homeless)

Trey and Cater… definitely realise this, but currently at this part of Heartslaybul’s book, they don’t actually have the power to tell this to Riddle and not expect to be reprimanded or worse. So they just awkwardly laugh. Cater just tries to transition to telling Ace that Riddle usually looks forward to the tarts, and they’re hand-made by Trey—Ace just needs to replace the tart he ate with another one and things will be fine after that.

Homura…isn’t sure about that, but if it’s all about following the rules then the logic seems sound? But if not then… Ah well, she’ll see what happens then and take action from there.

A little segment of Trey hand-made the tarts??? Those really good-looking really tasty-looking tarts??? (Ace’s words)

Yeah he’s from a baker's family lmao (Just for you guys who can’t read my mind: this is Cater)

“Aren’t tarts like that extremely expensive?” That is true Deuce. “Ace, why don’t you try doing it by hand? It’ll be cheaper that way, although I’m not sure about the quality,” says Yuu. Wow Yuu, lots of confidence in Ace there.

But Yuu is correct. Ace can’t bake.

Well, perhaps Trey could help? He is the vice-housewarden. And the one who baked the tarts—so he’s well acquainted with Riddle’s tastes. That’s what Homura adds to the brewing discussion.

At that moment, Kalim and Jamil FINALLY ARRIVE ON THE SCENE… While the Heartslabyul dudes start talking about making a tart from scratch.

Kalim’s like “Oh hey Homura!!! :D” He did say he’d find her and he did!!! Kalim’s so happy to spend the rest of his lunchtime with his new friend.

Jamil helped a lot. And by a lot, I meant he went through statistical analysis inside his head that culminated into nothing because Kalim rolled a nat20 on luck and perception.

Oh who are these people? Well, Homura introduces them as “My upperclassmen: Al-Asim— (Oops nearly used Last name–First name format) Kalim Al-Asim, and Jamil Viper.” With her soft, serious tone, it sounds less like she’s introducing potential new friends she made and more like management introduced new colleagues. Having around five (5), and quite possibly fewer, friends + her entire background makes this very much a work in progress.

She’s picked up on the fact that Twisted Wonderland uses the ‘First name–Last name” format instead of ‘Last name–First name’ like Japan. Although, Homura did noticeably stumble. But hey, she caught herself in time.

Yuu confidently says, with his whole chest out (figuratively), “Izumi Yuu, nice to meet you.”

I finally thought of a last name for Yuu, so he’ll be known as “Izumi Yuu/Yuu Izumi” from now on. I figured that if I’m also going to build Yuu as a character by adding information here and there about him, then he might as well get a last name.

Ace: “Wait your name was Izumi this whole time?”

Yuu: “Oh no that’s my surname. I’m Japanese.” (Which sadly explained nothing)

Ace & Co: “???”

Yuu: “Ah. Right. Forgot about that.”

Homura: “From where we came from, it was common to introduce ourselves using our last names first, instead of our first names.”

Kalim’s actually wondering what they were discussing earlier. They were discussing Trey helping Ace bake a replacement tart for the one he ate.

Trey can bake? Jamil’s also good at that!! Jamil corrects that he’s only mediocre at pastries/baked goods like the ones Trey makes (Which are more “Western” in design)

Trey would like to see how good Jamil is at baking. His glasses glint as his fingers lightly grip one of the sides again. In fact, speaking of baking, he could help Ace with the baking. But he’ll need something in return.

No one does anything for free in NRC, after all— No it’s not cash Ace.

Trey wants chestnuts. Two hundred to three hundred of them. Boiled, shelled, and pureed. Riddle wants a chestnut tart so… Kalim thinks that sounds fun! Jamil is quick to tell Kalim that, no

Kalim, you have a meeting later Kalim you can’t go.

Maybe next time Kalim

Ace, Deuce and Grim are out though no labour for them no siree

Homura calmly sips on her tea and states that Ace doesn’t have much of a choice.

You’re right, Homura, but you could’ve said that a bit nicer lmao

Now Ace has to confront his unwanted reality aka he needs to go get two to three hundred chestnuts and prepare them for baking.

And then Cater and Trey team up to make them want to bake. The killing blow is being able to eat a tart after baking them. Hook, line, and sinker; just like that, they’re in.

Yuu’s in for it—He’ll make sure Grim doesn’t act out. Also, tart.

Homura…would like to study more ways to leave Twisted Wonderland. But then Yuu looked at her like he fully wanted her to join and ok she caved.

Mostly everyone is discussing chestnuts now. Where to get them? botanical garden? Alright. And Trey’s baking skills. And tarts. Mostly tarts.

Oh and Kalim’s plans to have Homura over for a mini-party aka eat Jamil’s food. Everyone in this group right now is also very much invited because the more the merrier!!!

But why does he want to throw a mini-party for Homura? Because one she helped him and two she’s baby. He does not say this outright but he basically implies she has a kicked wet puppy aura mixed with her serious aura and that’s no good for someone who helped him out :(

It’s a mini-party because Kalim mostly just wants to get to know potential new friends this time. He can throw a spontaneous dorm-wide party next time!

Kalim decides to walk Homura to class again, because why not? She’s a new student and Kalim likes her—which means a potential new friend in his books! (And Jamil remembered her schedule + their classes aren’t too far away so Jamil’s fine with it) This time though, Yuu, Grim, and the rest of the Heartslaybul boys (minus Riddle) decide to tag along. It’s probably more entertaining than a normal day if they follow, especially for Trey and Cater.

Jamil just wants a (Twisted Wonderland) Ibuprofen.

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