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ace-malarky · 11 months ago

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Golden Years

It's a writing share Thursday I have decided so have some of the Feral family and Llinos being a Whole Badass bc I wanted to explore some Fun lineage powers

The building was a burnt-out husk, but Tamhas could imagine what it might have looked like in its heyday.

He almost remembered it, actually.

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” Tadg asked, echoing Tamhas’ thought.

“Like a memory,” Tamhas agreed. “But I don’t…” He stiffened, ears twitching as he heard something.

Tadg stopped a second later, tilting his head towards the old building.

There was someone in there.

They exchanged a glance and tightened their respective grips on their weapons.

“Hello?” Tadg called out.

“Ah, boys, you came!” Tilde stepped out through what once would have been the building’s main doors. “How delightful.”

“Where is she?” Tamhas asked. “Where’s Llinos?”

The human smiled. “All in good time, boys. Let me show you around first. It has been a long time since you stepped foot in here, isn’t it?” She looked back up at the ruin.

Tamhas looked up at the structure, taking in the skeletal remains of the upper floors, the roof beyond them gone. It would have been grand, once.

“This is our home?” Tadg asked. “I remember… burning. Maybe.” He glanced at Tamhas.

Tamhas shrugged. They followed Tilde inside the burnt walls.

“That was a nasty business. All in search of a legend.”

“What do you know of it?” Tamhas trailed behind Tadg, keeping a careful distance from Tilde.

The walls were scorched black and bare, and the ceiling was broken through in places, letting the stars shine through. There was nothing left but ash. Either everything had burnt or been stolen.

“All in good time,” Tilde repeated. She led them without pausing through the corridors towards the back of the building. Of the mansion.

There was a door that had not burned. It wasn’t even marked.

Tilde knocked at it, and the door swung open. She turned to the twins and beckoned them to enter first.

“Is Llinos in there?” Tamhas asked. He sniffed at the air, but all he could smell was ash, somehow. Still, after all these years.

“All your questions will be answered,” Tilde replied. “But please, enter.”

Tamhas fought to keep his ears from going back. His tail twitched against his legs.

“Don’t keep him waiting.”

He pressed up against Tadg’s side.

The room beyond the door was large, opening up far more than either of them expected. There weren’t any windows, and the ceiling was intact. There were paintings along the walls, of people both human and fox-bonded. Some of them looked familiar, in that they shared features with each other. With Tamhas and Llinos and Tadg, more so the ones that were simply human. Tamhas saw his eyes, saw Llinos’ courtesy smile, saw Tadg’s grin.

The floor was polished wood, and a rug had been pushed to the side to reveal an inset block of white marble. Beyond it was a desk, and against the desk leant a cloaked figure.

“My, you’ve certainly grown since I last saw you. Such is the passage of time, I suppose.”

“Who are you?” Tamhas asked.

“And where’s Llinos?” Tadg scanned the room, leaning as if to see around the figure.

“I remember this place in its golden years,” the figure said, ignoring their questions. “Or – well, I remember the stories of it. They were failing already when I was young, and when you two were boys – well.” He shrugged, spreading his gloved hands wide. “But you can help me restore all that. I just need one thing from you.”

Tadg pulled free his short sword. “Where is our sister?”

He laughed. “You know, I have no idea. I really thought she’d be here by now!” He stood up. “I hope she hasn’t been too badly waylaid. Otherwise, this really isn’t the family reunion I had thought it might be.”

“What are you talking about? The rest of our family’s… dead.”

“Open the vault, boys.” The figure touched a foot to the marble. “One of you should be able to. Then we’ll see about that claim of yours.”

Tamhas stared at his foot. It was more of a paw, really, covered in white fur. “You’re – like us?”

“Open the vault, boys.”

Tamhas let out a strangled yelp as Tilde grabbed his arm, twisting it back and pulling him off-kilter before he could do anything.

Tadg whirled to face her, short sword raised, but she had a dagger at Tamhas’ throat.

“Do as he says,” Tilde says, her voice silky in Tamhas’ ear.

“Alright, alright!” Tadg set his sword on the ground, crouching to examine the slab of stone.

There were no markings on it.

Tadg pressed a hand to it, trying to find a seam. Nothing. “I… I don’t know how.”

“How many tails have you?” The figure stalked forward.

“What? Just the one.” Tadg looked up at him.

The figure was wearing a mask under the hood of his cloak, but his eyes glittered faintly red through it.

“Useless.” He kicked Tadg in the side, the force sending him tumbling across the floor until he fetched up against the wall. “You.” He pointed at Tamhas. “Open it.”

Tilde let go of him.

“Tadg–” Tamhas started towards his brother.

“The vault first.” The figure latched his hand about Tamhas’ wrist.

He was smaller, but as Tamhas took another look at Tadg – he was still conscious, trying to push himself up to sitting, hand at his ribs – the figure forcibly yanked him onto the marble.

“Fine!” Tamhas dropped to his knees.

He pressed both hands into the stone. There was nothing to it. It was a block of stone, nothing more. Barely even an edge where the wood stopped around it.

“Come on,” Tamhas hissed at it.

“Step away from my brother.” Her voice was a hoarse snarl, something animal and furious in it.

Tilde gasped behind him.

“Well, well, well… you finally made it.”

Tamhas chanced a glance over his shoulder.

Llinos had bonded since the last time he’d seen her. Her fur was more of a russet than her hair had been, her throat creamy white against the battered brown of her leather armour. Her armour was scarred and smeared with blood, but she was standing steady. Her ears were flattened back, her teeth bared in a snarl, and she had an arrow trained on the cloaked man’s chest.

“I mean it. Step away.”

Kaua and Jasper stepped into the room around her. Jasper went straight to Tadg, while Kaua stayed near Llinos, eyes on Tilde.

The figure put his food down on Tamhas’ hand, pinning him there. “Or what, Llinos?” He applied pressure and Tamhas hissed out a curse, wrapping his other hand about his ankle. “You’re hardly going to kill–”

Llinos shifted her hand minutely and fired. “Get fucked.”

He stumbled back, not quite reaching the desk before he fell to the ground.

Kaua charged to meet Tilde before she could turn on Tamhas, sweeping up her sword in a vicious attack.

“Tamhas?” Llinos took another arrow from the quiver strapped to her leg. “You alright?”

Tamhas flexed his hand. “Yes. But Tadg–” He twisted to look over at his twin.

Jasper had him sitting upright, carefully feeling for injuries. Tadg gave Tamhas a thumbs up, even as he winced.

Llinos stalked forward.

Tamhas got to his feet, falling in beside her. “They said they had you, that if we didn’t come out here, they’d hurt you.”

The figure was struggling, one hand on the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. “You missed,” he said.

“I never miss,” Llinos pushed back his hood, pulling off his mask.

He was another fox feral, mostly white with black ears and black markings around his eyes, which were dark blue with an encroaching red rim. There were fainter black markings across his head, disappearing under the collar of his cloak.

“Uncle Domhnall?” Llinos froze.

“Hello, niece.” He smiled. “How nice to see you again.”

“We have – I thought everyone else was dead? They all died?” Tamhas looked at Llinos.

“I thought so too.” She threw his mask away. “What the fuck.”

“The family was fading, you wouldn’t understand. The power, the influence they used to have–”

“So you burnt them all?” Llinos placed a foot on his stomach, keeping him on the floor.

“I was trying to get into the vault.”

“It’s locked to us for a reason,” Llinos snarled.

Tamhas felt his fur reacting like static. It felt like there was a thunderstorm coming, but there were just Llinos beside him.

As he watched, her single tail unfurled. Eight more formed like crackling spectres.

“Llinos?”

“You can open it!” Domhnall said, his eyes wide. “Bring back the golden years for us, Llinos!”

The light in the room went.

Kaua swore.

Llinos was lined with lightning, her spectral tails like a banner behind her. She leant down to place a hand on the arrow sticking out of Domhnall’s shoulder.

Tamhas reached out to her, unsure what he could even do to stop her. Unsure if he very much wanted to.

“Those years are gone, uncle. They’re in the ground with the rest of our family.”

A spark ran down the arrow. Domhnall cried out and went limp.

Llinos’ spectral tails vanished, and they were left in darkness.

“Fuck that was hot,” Kaua muttered.

Tadg snorted and then hissed at the pain.

“You really had to take out the light,” Jasper said, sighing.

“Bite me, catboy, you have night vision.”

“I don’t,” Kaua said. “I don’t think our friend here does, either.”

There was a groan from Tilde.

“He’s not… dead, is he?” Tamhas asked.

Fire flared up from the edge of the room as Jasper lit a torch.

Domhnall was lying limp at their feet.

“No, he’ll be fine.” Llinos checked his pulse. “He’ll just be out for a while, that’s all.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” said Tadg as Jasper helped him over.

“God, you’re all still taller, this is ridiculous.”

“I told you there wasn’t any height difference.” Jasper laughed at her.

Tamhas stepped around to stand on Tadg’s other side, putting some space between himself and Llinos.

“What about this one?” Kaua asked.

Tilde was on her knees in front of Kaua, sporting a swelling bruise about one eye and clutching at her wrist.

“She was the one that’s been in contact with us. She said you were in danger,” Tamhas said.

“Probably been spying on us for a while.”

Jasper frowned at her, tilting his head almost as if trying to remember her.

“Oh, she’ll have some answers for us as well then.” Llinos smiled, all teeth and hard eyes.

“Fuck I’m going to marry you some day.”

“You still haven’t?”

Jasper groaned. “I’m trying.”

“Try harder.” Tadg elbowed him and smirked.

“Do you know what he meant by the golden years?” Tamhas asked. He tried not to stare at the space where Llinos’ spectral tails had been.

Llinos shrugged. “Old and rich family. It’s always better for them in the Old Days. Before anyone alive remembers.”

Tamhas looked down at the stone. “We’re not opening that, are we?”

Llinos snorted. “I wouldn’t know how. Probably best left locked.”

“Come on.” Kaua hefted the unconscious woman. “You can take him.”

Tamhas glanced at Tadg, who was only slightly leaning on Jasper, and stooped to pick up their… their uncle. Llinos ducked under his other arm and offered Tamhas a slight smile.

Tamhas glanced back once at the vault. Yeah. Probably better not.

#writing pieces #mercenary mages #mist worlds #Llinos ferch Rhydderch #Tamhas ap Liram #Tadg ap Saril #Jasper sa Adrassa #Feral Mage #kaua burai #I did very much write a follow up piece to this in which Llinos does give in to curiosity #but that's for. some other time. idk #anyway yeah! writing!#This was mostly to explore the twins but I can't resist some Funky Magics #and then having to build in the world building to make it plausible lmao #possibly one of my favourite prompts of the last year I think #(... assuming I wrote it last year idk)

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hakuryuu · 2 years ago

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rating (roasting) my novel titles

(stolen from @nerice bc it looked like fun >:3)

please stand up: 5/10. acceptable. makes some sense within the plot. abbreviates to PSU which i think is funny

look at me star man: 2/10 even though it’s so dear to my heart it’s all nostalgia. what does it even mean!! theres no star man in this story!!!! every day this title haunts me

this too shall pass: 4/10 i lifted it from a song of the same title by danny schmidt also the entire book is based on that song. it gets some points for being accurate mostly to the story but loses some points on originality

see me through: 6/10 although it fit better with the concept of the novel than how it turned out........the sense of being guided/watched

bitter order: 8/10 i hate to rate anything about this novel highly but the layers in this title are sooo pleasing to me (bitter order as in the backwards/forward chronology of the book itself) (bitter order as in a progression of events that one is bitter about) (bitter order as in an unpleasant or difficult command or duty that has been given)....,,

try let him sing: 5/10 lifted from a line in a book i read for class called sista tongue. gets mixed up with talk all you like a lot. god i miss this story

find me find you: 7/10 FMFYYYY its abbreviation is so cute to me i like how it sounds in my head and this one also some layers as well as an obvious bearing on the story (literal memory loss angle + new looking for someone who looks exactly like her + also the unifying fact of everyone searching for a different thing + + + ...)

talk all you like: 4/10. i love this novel but the title does NOT hit. tayl is a cute abbreviation though ;v;

long limb ellipse: 9/10 SPACE AND MOON IMAGERY limb as in the edge of the moon as perceived against the sky (maetra and her literal edges as her spirit/flesh/bone are hosted, the silk fort on the edge of society and religion, iro on the edge between several families, ronah in that edge space as well, bliss on the edge between waking and dreaming) and the ellipses they all travel in (silk fort to temple and back, god plane to temple and back... and ofc an elliptical orbit)

ash point fear: 6/10 scared of the fire going out. scared of the ashes not being burnt. i hate this novel

hypotheca bloom theory/silica heart: 100/10 COMPLETELY on my oceanography degree bullshit. copepods are the form of god, the hypotheca is a part of a diatom, and a diatom bloom is a rapid expansion of the population as the diatoms change.....also dragonets, which the syndicate is named after, eat copepods. also diatoms are largely made of silica + ‘glass heart’ ...

coincidence divine: 9/10 simple and to the point but beloved. a neat distillation of the original title with was ‘the order of our lady of perfect timing’

#elise lives a life of excitement and intrigue #its too hot to keep writing im going to lay on the floor and complain #ooooh you wanna read and lb my nanos to me sooooo bad

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evenstarfalls · 2 years ago

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Finished my goodreads challenge for the year and there's no way I could put together a top 10 bc I read a lot of good books so I'll just do a recap/roundup I guess!!

Kind of started off the year with a reading slump, something I'm hoping to change in 2023. Didn't get through a book til March, when I discovered VE Schwab through Vicious and blazed through her adult books. Was a wild few weeks. I also read Cinder's Adventure in March, which was a wild ride let me tell you.

In April I read the last Wings of FIrst book, flames of hope. I also watched Netflix Heartstopper, which is not a novel, but I immediately read the graphic novel, watched it a few more times for good measure, and then read all her books. Loveless was actually a reread, but I did enjoy them.

That also kinda kicked me into an agressively looking for queer books to read phase. Made me realize how badly I needed them, I guess. Cinderella Is Dead, Evelyn Hugo, Cemetery Boys, all of Casey McQuiston's books, and a handful of others were read in May and June and July. Also read the first two ember in the ashes and continued my Schwab marathon with Gallant, Monsters of Verity, and the first cassidy blake and everyday angel.

This was also the year I reread Percy Jackson, which was a lot of fun. Got through the whole first series and half of HoO over the summer. I still need to finish that, actually. I also reread Renegades, and Vicious and Vengeful in June. (2nd of 3 times reading Vicious!) It has been an exceptionally reready year.

This summer my local bookstore had a summer reading challenge. There were like 25 books to read and I got through about half of them; fewer than I'd been shooting for, but still good all things considered. Most of them were lame. some were books I've already mentioned that were coincidentally on the list. Best book I got out of that? The Count of Monte Cristo. I read it in August, and it was definitely my longest book of the year.

This fall I also fell into a reading slump, busy with school. I read the next two cassidy blake books, Cursed released and I got to meet Marissa Meyer (!!!), I read Schwab's ExtraOrdinary and hated the art, Ninth House, but wasn't that many by my standards. Sad times. College is unfortunate like that sometimes.

Just this month I've been able to get back into reading more. I reread Six of Crows, read Children of Blood and Bone and the rest of Everyday Angel, They Both Die at the End, The Girl from the Sea, and yes. These Violent Delights (the gay one). Jumped in at the last minute as one of my top books of the year. I am thinking about it right now and I don't think I'll stop anytime soon.

Tonight I finished reading Vicious for the third time. I liked it that much. Definitely my top book of the year, and the only one I feel like I can definitively rank...it gets messy after #1. My sister bought me a signed copy for my birthday, and I can't wait to finally get it in my clutches next year.

And next year? I'm hoping to finish my read/reread of the Riordanverse (I've never actually read the last 3 or 4), reread Crooked Kingdom and Vengeful, and maybe some Marie Lu, read The Archived (I've been avoiding it because idw be through with schwab), Warcross, Children of Virtue and Vengence, and the last two ember in the ashes books. Also planning to get through a bunch of other books that I own but haven't read because reasons and reading slumps. Excited for Hell Bent, The Stolen Heir, Stars and Smoke, With a Little Luck and, of course, Threads of Power. I miss my babies and I want the book title.

On the off chance you read all this rambling, thanks bestie ily

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charlottedabookworm · 1 year ago

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*raises hand* I usually end up thinking about Ardyn in that verse quite a lot#like that’s his son’s reincarnation#and his son’s shields reincarnation is his brothers descendant#and technically the chosen king#Anyway I want to study this relationship in a Petri dish under a microscope bc it’s fun to think about - @cactusprisms

i have so many thoughts about ardyn in this verse and i cannot articulate any of them because-

because ardyn is two thousand years old and he is beaten and he is broken and he has become every inch the monster his brother thought him to be and he relishes in it and then-

and then there is this boy, this kingsglaive, guarding the pitiful form of the chosen king, the last of somnus' bloodsoaked line, and ardyn is going to tear everything from noctis lucis caelum, he is going to destroy every single thing the princeling loves before he fights him

he is going to leave this world in ash before he is finally granted what has been stolen from him for centuries, for millenia, and-

and then that kingsglaive. that chosen king.

they're-

ardyn does not have a soulmate. somnus hadn't had one either. not that ardyn knows

there was no moment of knowing for either of them and ardyn has lived for so long now, has looked into the eyes of so many, that he knows that there is no match for his soul. no partner to follow him into the afterlife. his soul is twisted and tainted and ardyn knows that beauty of a match is one he will never be granted, in this life or the next

but his son-

oneiros lucis caelum had been but ten summers old when he had first met letum, son of one of his most trusted knights. ardyn had been there, watching his son hold a wooden practice sword with a determined furrow to his brow, and he had seen it

in the flicker of a candleflame, he'd seen his son age. he'd seen his eyes widen. he'd seen him become

oneiros had still been his son. had still been the beautiful brilliant boy he'd raised who looked up at him with the same awe he gave the stars, but suddenly he was more

and he had thrown himself at letum, a handful of summers older and more than a head taller, with that same awe in his eyes

his son had always loved fiercely and truely but with letum, it was heightened. there was trust and love so ancient between the two of them, the air thick with a shared history long forgotten by the world itself, that it had caught ardyn's breath in his lungs

(ardyn had loved his son, fiercly and truly, since the moment he had first cast eyes upon the babe, still wet with the waters of the womb

he had grown to love letum, a son of his heart if not his blood, for how could he not? how could not love the man who loved his son with such devotion? how could he not grow to love his sons brother?)

and ardyn is a monster, now

he will destroy this world

he will end it all because only then will he be allowed to rest. only by wiping somnus' line from the world will his sons' know peace

bahamut had blessed their line and ardyn will destroy every remnant of it

he will shatter lucis and he will kill this chosen king and finally-

finally-

ardyn looks at the wide eyes of the chosen king. the kingsglaive at his side is pale. shaking.

the pitiful boy takes a half step in front of his protector, reaching to his hip for a sword that is not there and really, the child should have been better prepared, has his father taught him nothin-

the kinsglaive catches the boys hand. their fingers tangle together and the air is heavy and-

and he looks nothing like ardyn's son

oneiros had been born dark of hair, but it had quickly lightened to match the flame of ardyn's own. his eyes had been as brown as the earth at their feet, just as his mother's had been, and he had stood more than a head shorter than him when last ardyn had seen his son

(before his son was murdered by his brother- by the man who had taught oneirios to wield a sword, who had sworn him to knighthood, who had laughed and snuck sweets to him when he was in the library, who brought a gift back every time he returned to the castle)

the kingsglaive looks nothing like his son

but he swallows, pale and shaking, and ardyn can see oneirios on that fateful day, wide-eyed and too pale, shock leeching the colour from his skin

the kingsglaive holds the chosen kings hand, easily. causally. as if it is the simplest action in the world

oneirios used to do that with-

with a boy who would stand a half step in front of him, shielding his son with his body and his heart, a hand on his sword and-

they cannot be, ardyn thinks

they cannot be because if they are-

ardyn is a monster

he is the accursed. he is a pawn of bahamut. he will tear this world apart piece by piece because he has no choice wants it all to burn to ash

the scourge sings in his blood, it claws at his throat, and ardyn will destroy them all

he will kill the chosen king

he will-

'pater?' his son says

he will shatter

thinking about i'm sorry to give you these memories again and hmmm nyx would be so fucking awkward around regis now and it's not that he told the man's son to go fuck himself in front of him or that he'd gotten his son killed in too many lives or even that old hero worship rearing its head

it's that he knows regis is a good man. he does. regis is a good man who loves his son, nyx knows that to be true. it's just-

(he thought his patruus was a good man, once)

(somnus lucis caelum was a good man who spoke of honour, who tried to protect his family and their people

oneiros had squired at his knee, had learned the blade at his patruus' hands, and he had never once doubted that he was a good man. beloved by their people just as pater was

he had never once doubted his uncle's love for him)

(his uncle was a good man who loved his family)

(his uncle's sword pierced his pater's chest and his men's arrow in letum's lung and-)

(he's seen what good men will do)

yeah

nyx is awkward around regis these days

he can't help it (it's the trauma)

#response #ffxv #in which coming face to face with nyx and noct does something that not even two thousand years of life and scourge could do to ardyn #it shatters him into a million pieces #because here are his sons #his sons live #(his sons are dead and he will have his revenge)#his sons are alive #(he is a monster and they all must die they have to die they-)#anyway this got really long lol so it's under a cut #reincarnation #platonic soulmates #soulmate au

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uhhhhyandere · 4 years ago

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👉👈 more yandere dimitri pls,,, that last one you wrote,,,, WHEW

haha idk where this was going or like... what the plot is or even what it’s about... but i had fun HAHAHA and literally all that matters

so here’s 8k words of purple prose and pointlessness and idk what else i love him so much... also not proofread bc I'm lazy. y’all stan a lazy ass author.

warnings: gory, death of minor characters, kinda bloody too, injury, manipulation

”It’s stupid. I-I don’t think… I just don’t want to get my hopes up, Annie. It’s been years…” With Garreg Mach looming on the cliffside, memories began to resurface with each field and decrepit village you, Annette, and Mercedes passed. They were fields where you would train relentlessly in the early hours of the day. An excuse, you think, to see him more. Innocent enough. Who wouldn’t want to improve their skill with the future King of Faerghus? Under those very trees is where you would have clandestine meetings at the same time beginning after the celebration of your victory at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Undeniably, the best night of your life.

You silently thanked Sylvain for slipping into the wine cellars and claiming you all had to finish the stolen bottles and clear the evidence. The only people still okay enough that night to do any cleaning were Mercedes and Dedue. Felix was technically okay too, but he left far before Annette was vomiting in the washroom to actually help out.

Your drunken first kiss at your bedroom door that Dedue definitely did not see. The sober one the day after. The sneaky one after breakfast. Quick one after training. Goddess, the heavy one in the dead of night after you scurried upstairs that Sylvain and Felix one hundred percent did not overhear through the paper-thin walls of the dorms. Countless kisses under the shadow of covers, night, until the ball. If everyone and their mothers didn’t suspect something was up when you two did not even realize you were the only pair left dancing, all eyes on you, until Sylvain whistled from the crowd, well, you would be deathly concerned about them.

“But those memories are from a long time ago, Mercie.” You pulled yourself from your thoughts. “Thinking about them only hurts. This place, what’s left of it, only hurts.” Mercedes set a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You think after five whole years, it wouldn’t hurt as much, but I don’t think I’ll be okay until this war is over. Until the cause of this - of all this pain and misery - is put to rest. Back then, even if we could have died at the end of any month, I thought he was invincible. I fled Fhirdiad as soon as I heard. Like a coward.”

“You can’t honestly think that! The Empire was taking the city. If you stayed, you could have died too! Don’t think like that.” You rolled your head back to look at the dark sky. You would make it back before it starts, at the very least.

“Everyone grieves in different ways, and it courses through us all at different paces. You have to let yourself hurt.” You shook your head, beginning to see the shadow of the village at the base of the monastery.

“I’ve been hurting for years now. When I met up with Felix in Fraldarius territory, he told me that the distraction will get me killed. An hour later he saved my life in battle, so he's ever the same. I wonder if he decided to show today. Sylvain would inevitably follow then. I’ve always thought--hey, do you hear that?” You stopped your movements suddenly, holding your arms to stop them as well. FIghting.

“Is it the Empire?”

“I don’t know, but we should help out anyway,” Annette replied. “Come on!”

You expected the Empire, but you weren’t surprised when you encountered thieves attempting to saunter off with the abandoned riches of the monastery. It was just like any other weekend you were off the road of bandits with the Blue Lions to clear a path for bandits.

Until you saw him. A ghost. As pale as one, at least. A hulking, nearly unrecognizable mass of strength shrouded in black and blue. Relentless, he tore through his path of thieves, the professor and Gilbert hot on his trail. The… professor? They were alive too? Your hand shook at your side. They’re both… okay? You swallowed. The professor always did tend to micromanage Dimitri. You realized you could not swallow with a closing throat, wobbling along with your chest. Wheezing, crying, freezing in battle. You heard Mercedes and Annette all around you behind a wall of fog. Legs shaking, you fell to the ground, hand tight to your chest.

“Y/N, come on, get up!” It was Annette’s urging, but she stopped suddenly. Two sets of feet set up around you. A barrier to protect you as your muscles shook. Get up. You have to. Get off the ground and fight. Just as he always taught you.

Your bow came out quick, sniping an enemy in Mercedes’ blind spot. Before you can do anything, argue it was your imagination that conjured the sound of his grunts and the blue of his eye, you had to survive to see them and keep track of Sylvain in the corner of your eye. He still tended to always look right instead of left. Were you not so shaken up, you would have reacted to seeing the rest of your old house in battle, but your mind kept filtering back. You did not see him again in battle. He and the professor were far ahead, after the familiar bandit you had dealings with from Anna, with the remaining three bandits. You, Annette, and Mercedes went to secure the area to make sure there was no bandit unaccounted for.

Didn’t last, though, as you fell to the ground against the foundations of a destroyed house, legs outstretched and limp. With your palm being held tightly over your mouth, you squeezed your eyes tight to get any remaining liquid out.

“Y/N…”

“H-he’s alive.”

“We know. We saw-”

“He’s alive. I spent five years grieving for someone who was here. I-I should have known he was here. I thought about it. I thought about it, but then I second-guessed myself and said that it would only hurt more. Searching for the dead. Pining for them, but look. I-I don’t know. I don’t know if I can even face him.”

“And you don’t want to.” Felix’s voice was just as sharp as it always was. He was grimacing, pace fast as he joined the three of you. “He is not the Prince you fell in love with. He’s the boar that’s been festering underneath his polite smile” With an exhale through your nose, you looked away. Felix really could read you like a book. He scoffed. “You knew too, didn’t you? All this time. Of course. I shouldn’t have put it past you to push things under the rug as you always do.”

“Felix…”

“It’s true. It’s how they even got through the relationship. Not as perfect as you thought, huh?”

“Felix, I think that’s enough.”

“No,” you interrupted. “He’s right. I knew. I was at the rebellion. I was at that battle that is ingrained into Felix’s memory. I was in the Holy Mausoleum when we found out the Flame Emperor's identity, but he never told me… I didn’t know the extent. You all knew he would hide me from all harm, including himself. Do you really think he would tell me whatever plagues him now? Though, I could take a good guess after spending a few nights in his room back then.” You swallowed, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “How bad is he?”

“A lowly beast.”

“There you all are. Professor says to regroup. Says we have plans to discuss, if you all are interested - woah, you okay?” Sylvain scratched the back of his head. “Oh right, yeah. Well, I don’t know how long His Majesty is willing to wait. He looks pretty - uh - impatient.” You shook your head and used the wall to support you back to your feet.

“Reunions like this are usually supposed to be happy, aren’t they? I-I’m sorry I’m ruining it on you all. I really am so relieved to see you all okay. It’s just… there’s a lot of emotion going on right now.” It was Mercedes’ hand on your back. You needn’t look to know.

“You don’t have to face anything you aren’t ready for.”

“No, I need to see what he has become. It’s as Felix says. I can no longer ignore problems I must face. I can do it, but we still have to check the perimeter…” Sylvain shook his head.

“Teach had Ashe and Ingrid do it right after you left.” Your professor always knew you better than you could ever know. “Well, let’s go then. Don’t want to keep them waiting on us too long.” His brown eyes came in close. “You hardly look like you’ve been crying, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t!” Annette stomped on his foot. “Y/N, it’s going to be okay. Me and Mercie are right with you!” A smile broke out on your face. Albeit sad, you nodded your head and believed her. Though you both knew, in the scheme of things, you were alone in this battle.

“Sorry, teach. You know Felix. Walks like a grandpa.” Sylvain, as common as it is for him to be the asshole, was a kind soul. No matter how much he tried to hide it. You gifted him a small smile of thanks as he glanced back. You were in the back of the small group when you joined the semicircle surrounding Gilbert, Byleth and… and… you couldn’t do this.

His hair has grown long and unkempt. Grease and grime painted his hair, his skin, his clothes. The armor he wore just a few shades darker than the circles under his single remaining eye but, oh, it still glittered brighter than the rainy sky. That was his eye. Though only one remained, it was his. This was your Dimitri. You clenched your teeth, for you could not cry anymore. Even if this Dimitri, from what you have heard, would not care for your tears, Dimitri five years ago would. You would stay strong for him if no one else.

And when his eye met yours, goddess, the jolt was felt down your spine. You knew your face screamed your emotions. You were no Felix, Slyvain, or Byleth. Lips parting, your breath halted as he kept your gaze. Nothing on him reacted. Goddess, his gaze was so much more piercing. You did not dare to move. As if you were a stranger, his eye flicked back to Gilbert as the knight continued to speak. Annette grabbed your hand from beside you and you squeezed so hard you watched her wince, yet she remained steadfast in holding yours just as tight.

For the mornings spent under the trees in the field after training, you would not cry. Dimitri is alive. He is here. A few steps away, though miles remained in between, he was alive. Within his dead eye, people will find hope. You will find hope. You know Gilbert already has as he speaks about returning to the monastery to begin to plan for the retaliation against the Empire. You know the former Blue Lions have as well, as they follow the professor loyally back up the ruined stairs you used to trip on far too often. You wondered if Dimitri can feel your eyes on the back of his head, or if he has come to be numb to that as well.

Annette did not let go of your hand until it was out of shock in the chapel. Its remnants littering the floors. Still, the peace of the goddess remained. Its silence was a lullaby to your worries. She, it had to be her, brought back the ones you love most. There was no other power. There couldn’t have been. Even though there was a hole where she used to stand, you thanked the rain beginning to pour in.

You would be strong for the boy Dedue would sneak you to in the dead of night. To wherever the Duscur man maybe, you would do it for him, too.

But being brave and strong was always easy for the people in Ashe’s books. They did not hesitate through their fear. It pushed them to be the heroes they are, but you could not find that platform to jump from. A mouse approaching a wolf, a boar. You sought help from the expert himself.

“Have you? I mean, have you tried to talk to him?” Ashe fiddled with the padding on his glove.

“No, not yet. Felix, Ingrid, Sylvain, and Mercedes have, though. You should ask them. They can probably be more help than me.” Stepping onto the wall separating Garreg Mach from the cliff, you sat next to him, allowing your feet to dangle in the open air.

“No, I think I need someone as scared as me. Someone who wants to be a knight from one of your books, but is the measly coward in the back used for poetic comparisons. Not that you are. I’m talking about me.” Ashe shook his head.

“It’s only been a few days since we’ve arrived.”

“And you think I would have already sought out the man I fell in love with already? A faithful reunion. Not quite like the ones in the romances.”

“I don’t think anything going on is anything like a book.” You furrowed your brows. “I know that’s crazy coming from me, but no book is like another. They have similarities, but they are all inherently different. This one we’re in now, this is ours. This is what people will be reading about and looking to for help. Us. No book can help us right now. I think only we can help ourselves and each other.” You kicked your heel against the wall repeatedly. It wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “You should try. If Dimitri will listen to anyone, it’s you or the professor, and they tried already.” You could feel your throat beginning to close up.

“What do I even say? What if I say the wrong thing? He’s hurt, Ashe. He always has been. I don’t want to… I can’t push him more. He’s not off the deep end yet. He can’t be. I don’t want to be the final straw. I know what I’ll say if I get too… emotional.” The man sighed, green eyes scanning the clouds.

“Well, from my humble opinion, which you don’t have to take, is that, if what you’re saying is true, you’re hurting him by avoiding him.” He stopped fiddling with the leather. Instead, he placed his hand on your thigh. “He is, deep down, the same Dimitri we know. What if he was the same, and you were doing this?”

“That’s debating if he is the same underneath. Knights are torn, but I know he’s there. He wouldn’t so easily feed into it. I know it. It may be time and so much help, but he’s in there. This is part of him. This is not an imposter. This is just as much of him as the one we knew so well. It… has to be, because I don’t know what I’m going to do if it’s not.”

Nights seem to be falling earlier and earlier with nonstop cleaning, repairs, and supply running. Even if you wanted to, you lacked the time to seek the prince out. The greenhouse had to be fixed. The rubble had to be cleared. The holes had to be patched. Communication had to be made. Word was the Knights of Seiros would be arriving this evening. Preparations had to be made for that. How the hell did Cyril do this day-in and day-out?

You were exhausted by the time Seteth and company arrived and set to meet in the chapel. The second time you’ve seen Dimitri since the bandits. The millionth time war efforts were to be discussed. Most of that work was carried out by Byleth and Gilbert. You only needed to follow orders, and your orders were to clean. Sorting out your emotions was just a side job.

“Y/N. Y/N. Are you listening?” Seteth’s scolding, something etched into your brain from the academy, broke you from your thoughts. However, you first regarded Dimitri, who looked at you the same as he did the first time, before having the courage to look at Seteth.

“I-I’m sorry. Lost in my own thoughts.”

“I asked if you have heard anything from Aegir? I know you were in contact with Ferdinand during the past five years.” Dimitri’s eye burned holes through your head. You could feel the sweat from it on your scalp.

“Duke Aegir has been placed under house arrest, sir. Everything from their title and land has been stripped from them. I… haven’t heard anything since. It would be safe to presume that they will not be an in with the Empire.” Yours and Ferdinand’s history stretches only back to the academy; however, before you and Dimitri became official, you and he would occasionally… work some stress out. Casually. Dimitri always hated this fact, but he did his best to hide the jealousy from you.

“It’s not fair of me to judge you on what you have done in the past,” he said. “I will be more mature about my feelings.” Though the gleam in his eye now was all too familiar.

“I see. Thank you.” Something within you kept you from meeting Dimitri’s eye. A fear he would look away, so you focused on Seteth, Gilbert, and Byleth as they discussed the steps to making Garreg Mach the Kingdom’ base. When the meeting ended, however, you did not listen to such fear. Dimitri spent his time in the chapel. The spectacle to gawk at. It was no surprise when he did not move as the rest of the group disperse, and neither did you.

But he would not break first. Turning around, his cape followed him back towards the wreckage of where the altar used to be. You followed with steps as silent as possible. Opening your mouth to speak, you released only empty air. Inhaling, you tried once again, but a wall erected itself in your throat, cutting you off once more.

“If you have something to say, speak.” His words, guttural, reverberated in you. Wringing your hands together, you took one last deep breath.

“Dimitri.”

“Do you wish to speak of the past?” His head turned, so you could only see one eye peeking from under his bangs. “The boy you loved is long dead. There is nothing here for you.” You shook your head and took an adamant step forward.

“T-that’s not true.” A dry laugh escaped him.

“Is it not? Are you not frightened of me? Is it not why you have hidden yourself ever since you arrived? You know it as well as I.” You tapped your fingers against your thigh. You had to remain calm and patient. He was going to try to push you away, and you knew that. Do not stray from the path.

“It was not you I was scared of, Dimitri.” Another laugh. This one wry. He turned around to face you then. You knew he had gotten bigger, stronger, but he stood so much higher than you. A power stance you would not succumb to. This is the same boy who broke a pair of scissors and was scared Mercedes would yell at him and smuggled sweets for you two to have late at night to study for your certification exams. “Do not tell me it is because you think you could have changed something. Prevented something. Nothing would have changed whether you were here in the past five years or not. Do not think so much of yourself.”

You squared your shoulders. You did not want to take this route, but you had to provoke some type of emotion towards you. Something to tell you that you are more than the tool of war to use against Edelgard, and he had already given you a hint.

“Then what about at that meeting, when Seteth asked me about Ferdinand? I saw the look you gave me. I’ve seen it before too. You cannot hide that.” His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you felt successful. “You can say anything you want. How I am insignificant, a tool to use, another body to die in your path to revenge, but do not-” you pointed a finger at him “-tell me what we had was nothing. I want to see what you see. I don’t want you to shut me out.” His eyes trailed down to your finger, and with an armored, gloved hand, pushed it aside.

“So you admit it then? A tool at my disposal. To use and then break?” You shook your head, and your throat clenched once again.

“You would add me to the list of people who already haunt you?”

“You know nothing of the dead. Of what they say to me. There is nothing for me to be concerned about other than taking the head off of that girl’s shoulders. Should you die getting in my way, then so be it.” His lance to the heart, but you would not let the pain show. He was the same boy who broke his training lance and hit Leonie with the broken handle and fretted about it for the next month, despite the blood on his hands. You had to believe that. Latch on to that single hope.

“You always did what you could to protect me. From Demonic Beasts, bandits, Felix’s words, but right now, I think you’re protecting me from yourself.” Metal against your neck. In a blink of an eye, his lance touches the skin.

“Do not speak as if you know me, and do not speak anymore, or else I will slice your throat where you stand. Go away. If you return, I will not hold back, and I will use you to the bone.” A competition played out between your eyes, but, in the end, you succeeded. Walking out the monastery with a drop of blood on your neck, you did not allow any other droplets to fall until you crossed the bridge into the reception hall.

You don’t who you cried for, or for how long until Catherine found you and guided you back to your room. Thoughts floated from Dimitri, his words, the past, to Dedue and his untimely passing and your peers that were now your enemies that Dimitri was ready to kill without hesitation and the reality of your death that could come in any battle here on forth.

Three knocks on your door. Too hard to be Ashe’s, Mercedes’, or Annette. Not hard enough to be Felix yelling at you to train like he used to when he could find no one else.

“Sorry. I was just passing by, and, well, wanted to check in.” The last thing you wanted Sylvain saying was that he heard your balling your eyes out. With shaky hands, you wiped your burning cheeks and unlocked the door for him to enter. “Oh, what happened? What’s that bandage from? Don’t tell me…” You motioned for the noble to come in and relocked the door. You didn’t want any more visitors.

“Yeah, I talked to him.”

“He hurt you?”

“I went too far. I-I shouldn’t have pushed him so deep into his emotions, presuming things he felt. It was just a scratch. I’m fine. You have the eye, Sylvain. You must have noticed the meeting.” You sat on your bed, while he spread himself on your desk chair.

“I remember he used to come to me during those times. How he can show his love for you through other means. How he had lost you before even had a chance to try. He was so stressed, and so hopelessly into you. I thought he had it for the professor, but color me surprised when he sought me out for advice on you.” You shook your head.

“Never should have started that with Ferdinand.”

“Something about nobles, huh?”

“Shut up, Sylvain. I-Look, I can’t even focus on the past right now. I use it to remind myself I’m talking to my Dimitri, and not the monster everyone fears. That, that man suffering alone in that chapel is the boy who got nervous every time we kissed, but… but it’s so hard. As soon as I saw him that day, I was shocked, overjoyed, but I knew something was wrong the same minute. He’s been alone for five years. By himself. The only people to talk to him were the dead. What kind of… I’m supposed to be the one that knows this, sees this, and helps this, but all I can do is cry in my damned room!” Sylvain was lighting fast to wrap his arms around you, and you clung on tighter to his shoulders. The sleeve of his shirt, the victim of your tears, saliva, and sobs until you had pushed your own self out of consciousness.

When you woke the next morning, your head lied on a breathing pillow. It did not take much to recall the previous night and you let yourself relax under human contact. It was something you have missed dearly in the past five years, and you know, despite his reputation, Sylvain would never try anything with you. Your eyes, heavy still from crying so hard, lazily trailed across the room. The window Dimitri almost broke with his lance, the desk you both hunched over figuring out the mathematical side of tactics, the potted plant the professor gave you for your birthday that Dimitri also broke, but replaced with the long dead ones present. The broken locks on your door from -

“Sylvain!” You jolted up, slapping his chest harshly. He woke with a groan while you stood and approached the door.

“Mm, what?”

“Did you hear anything last night? Banging, or snapping, after I fell asleep?” He rubbed your pillow over his face, so you approached him, tore it from his hands, and smacked him. “Sylvain. My door is broken.” Brown eyes were wide and glowing under the sun from the window. He rushed to check out the damage. “I think I know who would have…” He met your eyes. “Which means he saw - ��

“Yeah, I get it. I’m a dead man.” You shook your head.

“Hey, hey, not yet. We could try to guess why he would come in here.” Sylvain rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious? It isn’t to kill you. He already would have been in the chapel. Oh - we messed up. We messed up big time. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” You put your hand on his arm.

“It’s not your fault. You were here when I was sobbing. I can’t be mad at you for that. I’m mad at this whole situation. This war. Everything. You just need to avoid him at all costs. Stay with someone. Felix most likely. We could explain the situation to him, so he understands, and so he doesn’t think we… you know.”

“I get it. I get it.”

....

“Absolutely not.”

“Felix, it’s only until I get this sorted.” Felix groaned, tying his hair back.

“I’m not playing babysitter, and I’m not letting you handle this on your own. You’ll get yourself killed.” You shook your head.

“He wouldn’t kill me.”

“He actually told you he would.”

“But he wouldn’t. I trust that he wouldn’t, and if one of the two of us were to approach him, it could not be you. Out of the question. It would have to be me, and you both know that, and it has to be as soon as possible. I mean, as in-”

“Have you all seen Dimitri?” Ingrid popped around the corner. “It’s the Empire - they’re coming. Gear up and get ready. We don’t know what forces they’re bringing, but we cannot allow them to take the monastery again.” Of course, of all times.

“We’ll worry about this later. Do not let this distract you on the battlefield. Focus on surviving and nothing else. Got it?” Felix held a finger to your face. You nodded. “Good. Come on, Sylvain. We’ll see you out there.”

Focus on surviving. You were always focused on surviving. Battle was not merely just slaying your enemies. You were the priority. Not the oncoming enemies. That fact never changed during battle. That was the first thing the professor taught you; however, his selfless behavior on the battlefield would have anyone thinking twice. When it comes to fighting with people you cared about, priority gets muddled.

Dimitri was no longer focused on surviving. His priority was to kill, slaughter his way to Edelgard. Nothing else mattered. In this way, his fighting has improved tenfold. No reasonable person would want to confront him in physical combat, which made life harder for everybody else. Being a distance fighter, you, Ashe, Annette, and Mercedes were able to watch his back. Of course, Byleth couldn’t risk that many people micromanaging him. For strategy’s sake, it’s suicide. Mercedes was a critical healer and menace being trained a gremory. That source of power would not and could not be squandered. Ashe had worked incredibly hard to be a bow knight, and your most powerful archer can also not be used as a protector of one person.

The job usually came down to you. Both by order of elimination and by your lack of ability to focus elsewhere. Your eyes were naturally drawn to the splattering blood and the behemoth of a man as the source. Byleth knew this just as well as you. You were the definition of predictable on the battlefield.

But, the one thing you forgot was that, on a battlefield, nothing is predictable. To be able to predict the cavalier was able to reach you with his javelin was precautionary, week-one lessons, but, still, it sunk into your side. Unimaginable pain. The raw snap of impact. Warm blood cascading down your leg. Think… think! You had to get somewhere safe. Somewhere an imperial soldier wouldn’t finish you off. Hopefully, someone else would take care of that soldier before they reached you.

Each inch was crippling. The gathering of bushes and trees seemed so far, and your energy was slipping exponentially fast. You’d be out from blood loss in due time. It even began to drip from your mouth and onto the already stained grass. Almost there. The moment your foot crossed the threshold to the hideaway, you went lip on your back. Smoke and flames met the already decaying sky.

You glanced down your body. The javelin was at least a third in your body. Getting it out would just expedite the process, so you allowed yourself to lie your head back. Distant shouts and screams and metal clashing filled the air. The smell of the earth around you drowned out by the putrid scent of burning flesh. Something you never take note of while fighting for your life.

Peace was not a word to use in these places, but you had no other one to use as you lied still. Is this what Dimitri meant? You wondered what he would think and say when he heard, or even saw, your death. Your death. Another nameless, pointless death in Edelgard’s ruthless path to her goal. You can see Mercedes and Annie crying. Maybe even Sylvain and Ingrid. Felix, perhaps, would cry, but you were sure he’d be pissed at you. And Dimitri…

You sobbed. Perhaps you really were worthless, but you wanted to hope, to pray that he would be there each time you opened your eyes back to the gruel world around you. Each time, he wasn’t.

Until he was.

Blood dripped down his face, none of which was his own. It matted down his locks and dripped from each lock. Areadbhar glowed in his hand and dragged across the flattened grass and mud. The air was only able to jostle the very ends of his hair. His mouth opened, canines peeking from the corner of his lips. Leaving the smoke and fire behind him, Dimitri got larger and larger.

Goddess, he was beautiful. Even as he stared with an empty eye down at you, you couldn’t help but gasp. An angel of death. You moved to rise, but the rip of his lance on your breast pushed you back down. His eye traversed down your figure to your wound. The weapon rose and fell with your breath.

“Dimitri,” you breathed out.

“I told you, did I not?” His chin rose and Areadbhar’s tip dug just a hair deeper. “Foolish Y/N. You are too weak for the thick of battle.” You squeezed your eyes shut. “But you will not die by imperial hands. I will not allow it. If you are to die, it will be by my hands.” Your fists gripped the grass. Dimitri hummed. “You won’t say that I wouldn’t? Or do you finally realize the truth?”

“If you’re going to do it, just do it. Neither of us need this “ -you coughed -”stalling.” His elbow retracted and you winced, ready for the final blow.

“Y/N!” Sylvain. At the silence that followed, you peeked an eye open. Dimitri was focused on the source of the voice, giving you room to squiggle away until he forced the lance forward again. This time, the tip traced your left cheekbone. “Y/N!” Dimitri was daring you to speak, but, right now, you could hardly breath.

“You said you were not scared of me, before. Are you scared now?” He paused. “You said you want to see what I see. Do you keep your word? Do you honor it?” Were you supposed to answer? Fear crippled your ability to formulate words. “You will not die yet.” Areadbhar’s glow now dominated your left visual field.

In a second, everything in that field went black, and you screamed.

…

“I watched you go down,” Felix said. “You were at the higher ground, where you usually are in the midst of battle. You might as well have painted a target on your back if I can see you from across the plain, you idiot. That javelin went into your side,” amber eyes locked onto the bandages covering your side, “but I watched nothing touch your eye.”

Thank the goddess for Manuela and Mercedes. Without an expertise in white magic, you would be long dead. By the same token, thank the goddess for Sylvain who found you bloody and passed out in the cover of the bushes and delivered you to them on horseback.

Your fingers traced the bandages that wrapped around your head and covered your left eye. Everything to your left periphery and everything not covered by your right eye was black. It didn’t throb, didn’t hurt anymore, because there were no more nerves to send that pain to your brain.

“What happened, Y/N?” Ingrid cut in. Her, Felix, and Annette stood around your bed in the medical bed. You shook your head.

“I… I don’t remember. The last thing I recall is crawling towards the cover. I don’t even know if I got there.”

“Liar.” Felix abruptly stood. “Stop defending that boar, and just say it.” Your mouth opened, but Ingrid cut him off.

“Felix, are you saying you think Dimitri took her eye?”

“I know it,” he snapped back. “I’m right, aren’t I, Y/N? Just say it. Say that beast took your eye while we were all distracted in battle.” Your eyes glanced to the others, unconsciously asking for help.

“Felix, you’re adding unnecessary stress. Come on. We should give them space. We’re lucky they’re not dead” Her hand locked onto Felix’s arm. He grimaced, glaring down at you while he shook himself from her grip.

“When will you ever start caring about yourself? There is more death than just physical.” He spit out before stomping out of the room. Ingrid sent you a sympathetic smile and followed her childhood friend out. Annette left soon as well under the excuse of giving you time to rest, but you could not rest. Dimitri’s face haunted you every time your working eye closed. Every throb was its own lance. Its own mark.

His mark.

You thought you were crazy the first time you reflected on why you and Dimitri’s eye total was the same as a normal human being. You thought you were insane for romanticizing it. It was terrifying. Inhumane. To you, at least, but to him, you knew, it was a mark of possession. That when people saw you, thought of you, it would always be connected to him, but it was also a threat. Not only to those who dare try to do you harm that isn’t him, but to you. I told you. This is what you get and will continue to get.

You waited until the sun set, until the priests and priestesses would no longer be in your room to cry, so your pathetic cries of anguish would be bouncing off the walls in peace. Curling in on yourself, you buried your chin between your arms and stared into the dark room. Waiting and watching, a large silhouette emerged from the darkest corner and approached. Cold claws of his armor wiped away the tears on one cheek while simultaneously breaking the skin. You could only barely make him out through the moonlight in the open window next to you. Dimitri circled the bed, looking down at you from the side before bending down and planting his lips on your cheek. His warm tongue wiped at the newfound beads of blood, and you hissed at the contact. He separated himself just enough to look at the bandages around your eye.

“I get it,” you said. “I get it.”

…

Luckily (as lucky as you can get during the situation), the damage cut clean through the nerves, so all ganglion cells and connections to the optic nerve were completely severed. No nerves. No signal to the brain. No pain. Still, it would be a while before the tissue repaired and scabbed over.

You didn’t know what to do with Dimitri, frankly. Part of you was terrified to even approach him. Another was equally as terrified, but this was out of what he would do if you were with someone else again. You were sure of the correlation between your broken door and your stolen eye. You wonder, then, what else he could have seen? Sparring with Felix or advice sessions with Ashe or… too many instances come to mind.

Byleth pushed you to train more with your periphery severely impacted, and, when the time to march came, confined you to Garreg Mach until you were proficient enough not to get yourself killed.

“Good,” was all Dimitri said on the matter. It wasn’t until your assault into the Empire that Byleth deemed you ready for actual battle. Up until then, you spent your time training. First, it was with the knights, until all of a sudden they no longer desired to raise arms with you. Something about the demon over your shoulder. You looked to Catherine, who glanced to the door, where a large shadow quickly disappeared. You inhaled sharply and pursued.

“No one is willing to train with me. Do you have something to do with it?”

“They can’t help you,” he responded. He quickly strode down familiar, overgrown paths down to the fields below until you both reached the same field he had trained with you in years ago. Dimitri spun around, raising his lance. “They don’t understand.” From your blindspot, he swung, and you barely dodged out of the way, feeling the very wind from the force. “Get up and arm yourself.” You quickly shuffled to your feet.

“Why? Aren’t you… don’t you plan to kill me, anyway?”

“Equip yourself. I will not have filthy empire hands decide your demise, and I won’t have you staying behind on your own.” You gave up on trying to read into him. “Now, fight.”

It was brutal. Unlike the helpful and cautious nature of his corrections and demands, you learned through mistakes. If your leg got slashed, you moved it the next time. If you were pushed and forced to one side, you adjusted your posture for the next time. Dimitri gave you no breaks, no time to tend to the cuts and bruises he gave you. There was hardly time to catch your breath before he was charging again, forcing your back against a nearby oak. He seemed to not be bothered or fatigued at any point.

It would not be the first time your back was pinned against this very tree. Dimitri growled, his weapon lodged into the wood right behind your ear. A moment passed where it was five years ago, hands tight on your hips and heavy breaths swallowed by one another. Now, he pulled his weapon back and went in for another strike.

“It’s dark. I think we need to go back.”

“You think they will not use the guise of darkness? That we will always fight when the sun is out? Arm yourself.”

You limped back to Garreg Mach. The only real guide you had, with Dimitri’s brutal pace, was his footstep imprints and the sound of him pressing on. By the time you reached the gate, you nearly collapsed with Dimitri far ahead. Thank the goddess Anna was around to get help. Byleth’s dark cape flew behind them as they rushed through the market. They rushed you, as fast as you could go on weak legs, to the same bed you were confined to with your eye. Manuela dropped the elixir in her hand as you and your entourage busted through her door.

“Goddess, what happened?! No matter. Get them inside.”

Felix was going to kill you.

But still, when you were able, you met Dimitri again in the same field. And again. And again. Until you were no longer on the verge of death each nightfall when you returned. Your former housemates did not hesitate to chastise you or even micromanage you, but, inevitably, they had to do their own work, and you set off. Felix gave you an innumerable amount of choice words before it seemed he gave up.

You were confident heading into the empire. No opponent you would face, close up or far, was Dimitri. They were far smaller, thinner, and weaker. You’d even say they seemed to have less physical intent to kill you compared to the blonde. You traded in your bandages to a white eyepatch similar to Dimitri’s except there was still padding for the raw skin underneath. Something that inevitably drew enemy forces towards you.

“Y/N?” Despite the cruel, ruthless nature of battle, Ferdinand’s voice held the same noble gentleness. Your eye, wide and wild, met his. Across a stretch of corpses, the redhead stood tall, long hair matted down in the wind. You swallowed. “Y/N!” He called again, eyes wide behind you. In a split second, you turned to see an armored knight’s axe impending down on you. The next, a lance impaling them that breezed from over your shoulder.

“You killed your own man.”

“He almost killed you.” You hurried to dislodge his weapon from the body.

“...Thank you,” you muttered, handing the lance back to him. Your eyes rose to behind his shoulder. “F-Ferdinand!” Your warning came too late. Dimitri’s blunt force knocked him to the ground. There was no warning, no room for words, before the sickening sound of death cracked in front of you. Again… and again… and again. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Keep your eyes open. This? Was your fault.” Blood splattered onto his pale features, adding to the pattern already decorating his skin. “Let’s go. Stay by me.” Not that you usually didn’t. Still, your legs would not move. Not with the fresh corpse between the two of you. “What?” Dimitri hissed out. “Are you upset? He was just another body in our way... unless it was something more to you?” You shook your head, taking a hold of your bow tighter. “Good. Let’s go.” Dimitri did not bother to even look back, and you… you could not even look down, and hurried to follow.

You didn’t sleep for days. Ferdinand’s kind smile on your mind. You did not dare tell anyone of his gruesome demise. Though, looking at the detail, the monstrous nature of it, it didn’t take too much thought to guess who was responsible for it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to celebrate Dedue’s return. The thing about him though was that he never let too many things go unnoticed.

“How are you?” He simply asked, and you lost it.

“-I couldn’t do anything. I-I couldn’t! Or… or I didn’t. Oh, goddess, I don’t know.” Your hands shook in front of you. “He can do what he will to me, but to others? Because of me? I… fuck. I couldn’t tell anyone. Felix and co. are already suspicious enough.”

“I am sorry. I know those words do not mean much now, but, for what it is worth, I am.” He paused, furrowing his brows and focusing on the ground. “I-,”

“Y/N.” Dimitri hulked in the doorway. Where the hell does he come from? Dedue stood promptly.

“Your Highness,” he greeted. Dimitri briefly regarded the Duscur man before focusing on you once again.

“Come,” he said, and you followed, wishing Dedue a small farewell. Dimitri’s cape glided against the concrete. He led you across the bridge and into the empty echoes of the cathedral. It was far too late for any priests or students to linger. Especially with Dimitri lurking around in the late hours. “You still think about him.”

“I still think about his death,” you carified.

“Do not tell me you mourn for a man who was going to imprison you.” You scoffed.

“He saved me.”

“In order to take you back to the empire for information. Who else would he like to obtain than the one he grew feelings for? Do not be so naive to think he saved you so altruistically.” Your teeth dug into your bottom lip.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You and I both know how war works. Do you think Edelgard and her army would not use every former connection to get ahead? There is no line on the path to victory. Being weak, showing compassion, is just how you get killed. How the enemy wins.” You shook your head.

“You said you were going to kill me. Did you not save me for that reason? My death is the same no matter whose hands it is by. It will have the same impact. One less body between Edelgard and you.” Dimitri’s eye glanced downwards, then shot back up to meet yours with a small chuckle.

“Are you not already dead? Have you not already succumbed to the wills of those who control your mind? Have you not already become your own form of monster?” You shook your head and took a step back.

“N-no, I’m not.”

“You are not? You allow these cuts and bruises to litter your body. You allow your own eye to be stolen. You allow others to die. You allow all of this without consequence. You are a worse kind of monster: the one that allows another to live, to unleash without consequence. You hardly see the others anymore. You do not train with them, eat with them. They tend to your wounds and you run to get more.” Metal fingers gripped your chin and forced your head upwards. “I told you I would kill you, and I have.”

HIs kiss was fire compared to the ice of his armor pushing against you. All-consuming, Dimitri’s lips molded to yours and his teeth pierced your skin. He licked at your lips, and you willingly opened your maw to let him in. You willingly allowed him to drown you out, to push you towards a pew and lock you between his body and the wood. He only separated to breath before digging for more, more. His tongue dragged across your own and touched upon your teeth, tasting your intricacies with increasing vigor. He inhaled every exhale you panted into his mouth. These were not the kisses Dimitri five years ago gifted you.

“You taste the same…” he whispered. “Show yourself to me. Let us be dead together.”

#yandere fe3h #yandere fire emblem #fire emblem fic #dimitri x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #yandere dimitri #yandere dimitri x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader #fire emblem x reader #fe16 #fe16 x reader #fe3h x reader #tw yandere #tw: yandere #tw injury #tw: injury

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numbaoneflaya · 3 years ago

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You can count on me to pull up with a thousand of questions sbdhdh. A3, A22, C5, D3, F3 for Jilly ; A18, A23, B9, C1, H2 for Nirn ; A5,B9, C8, D1, I5, for Thurwen ; A9, A13, C1, E8, and G6 for Valkya? 😏

A3, A22, C5, D3, F3 for Jilly ;

A3.Do they have any emotional or psychological conditions? Are they aware of it? Do they try to treat it?

Shawty got that stockholm syndrome in a way. She is…. Sometimes aware of it, though she wouldn't call it that any more. Maybe at first in the basement she was more aware, but now that she can come and go she thinks its a thing of the past. tries not to dwell on it. Kind of in a “well its literally not that bad its kind of fun its kind of romantic were just quirky <3” way, will get mad if someone insists she has stockholm or that the relationship is fucked. Will get enraged and upset on Vincent's behalf, probably cry and yell at you.

A22. Is your OC intended to be found generally attractive? Unattractive? Average? Is there a reason why?

I intended her to be fairly average, maybe kind of cute. It's generally the way she dresses/acts in public that draws attention, not her looks. I tend to make most of my ocs on the average scale besides a select few.

C5. Do your OC’s morals and rules of common decency go out the window when it comes to those they don’t like, or when it’s inconvenient? Aka, are their morals situational?

Good question…. Jillys morals are pretty simple- always be kind and nice, murder and hurting other people is bad, and you shouldnt lie. She sticks to those pretty strictly herself despite the situations she gets put in, often to her own detriment. But she doesn't always put a stop to those behaviors from the people she surrounds herself with, so she's sort of accomplice to bad acts of violence just by not snitching. So somewhat situational? She tries not to think about it.

D3. How comfortable are they with the idea of death?

Not comfortable! She hadn't seen a lot of it before her early twenties and was always sort of sheltered. dead fish are flushed down the toilet bcs they go to the ocean to live again, right? Thought cows and such all died of old age peacefully before they were made into burgers until she was like… twelve. 💀Won't kill mice and other critters despite her prey drive bcs she would feel too bad. And this is just for animal death, she's much more uncomfortable with human death. Also a thing she tries to ignore.

F3. Could they ever live in a “tiny home”?

God no. She hates small spaces unless she's hiding in them and tiny homes have no room for all the shit she stashes! No room for zoomies, or climbing on the furniture, or wrestling around on the floor. It would be filled with junk within a week.

A18, A23, B9, C1, H2 for Nirn ;

A18. Do they get jealous easily? Do they feel bad if they do?

He's never had much to be jealous of, as he's never really been over involved in romantic relationships. They were usually mutually beneficial and somewhat clinical in nature. Hes also pretty sure of himself and his value as an asset and lover. If he finds someone who peaks his interest and they become an item though, he might get jealous if he catches them flirting with other people. Hell be peeved at first but know flirtation in business has its value, so to make himself feel better might flirt with someone else while they are nearby. Make a game of it, see who wins.

A23. Does your OC place much importance on their appearance? Do they feel confident in it?

Appearances are crucial to him and spends a lot of time and money making sure he looks his best. He needs to appear above the rabble and impenetrable, dressing well and having immaculate posture and an air of both grace and otherworldliness.

B9. What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

Definitely not one to find fart jokes funny. Very rarely laughs genuinely or full heartedly, he keeps all his expressions of emotion close to his chest. Sharp sardonic wit is appealing to him in the right circumstances, even a jab directed at himself can make him chuckle if it's well formed enough. Irony almost always gets him, even if its dark irony or gallows humor. Bit of a hard nut to crack. Would laugh enough that hed have to cover his mouth with his hand if he were to see Felix fall face first into mud, though. More often than not you can tell he finds something amusing by a gleam in his eyes and a slight squint.

C1. Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

Well he used to have a real moral code :/. Now I mean…. The ends justify the means. By any means necessary. He considers his family's needs first, then the good of the world, then any individual in the world. Has ordered executions of entire families, had babies stolen and sent away, sent armies to certain death knowing full well they would all die, commanded individuals be tortured for information, sacrificed many in what he considers to be a game of chess where he is the player and others are the pawns. He finds senseless violence and savagery to be unforgivable, but if violence has a sense and purpose to employ it, then he will do so.

H2. Is your OC a thoughtful partner, in whatever aspect of that you want to cover?

Nirn tends to be a very thoughtful and attentive person in general, just for the wrong reasons lmaoooo. But with a lover? He's going to be utilizing that to show them how much he cares and using his powers for good. Mention you like a certain fabric while shopping one time and then complain your favorite tunic has a wine stain in it several months later, he's going to be taking your measurements for a new one in your preferred material without a moment's notice. Very keen on picking up moods, expressions and tone. Also has a very good memory. He doesn't really think about it but gifts are how he shows his love. Also a great attentive listener.

A5,B9, C8, D1, I5, for Thurwen ;

A5. Are they good at handling change in their life?

I would say so, yeah. Shes been used to things constantly changing since she was little and has had little to no control on outside influences. Shes also not one to over think about the past and lament, shes more of a one foot in front of the other, the only time is the present kind of gal. Of course large changes like becoming a warden were a bit more severe, but shes mostly able to think in the present as long as she has immediate problems to deal with.

B9.What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

Slapstick is always gonna make her laugh as long as nobody gets seriously hurt, even if its her own ass tripping into a tree. Not a fan of scare pranks, 0/10 recommend trying to scare Thurwen. You will end up with a broken nose at best and an angry elf. Likes puns, but she's the one to groan at them and try and hide the grin spreading across her face. Gallows humor but only if its her in the gallows, otherwise doesn't find it funny at all. If a little kid calls someone a fartcicle she will be tears in the eyes giggling, which is hard when your warden commander and everyone looks toward you to be serious and mature gyshsdhdfsghsd.

C8. Is your OC more practical or ideal morally? I.e., do they hold people to high expectations of behavior even if it’s not realistic for the situation, or do they have a more realistic approach and adapt their morality to be more practical?

She definitely holds herself to moral ideals and is very hard on herself, but has realistic moral expectations for others. She can understand self serving and people only wanting to survive and she will only give people a little bit of shit for it, no one's perfect. But then she expects herself to be perfect and berates herself constantly for not living up to the hero of ferelden warden commander ideals.

D1. How religious is your OC? What do they practice, if anything? If they don’t associate with any religion, what do they think of religion in general?

Atheist ever since her mom died when she was a kid, but now Shes in a weird mixed state ever since the urn of sacred ashes where shes like. fuck the maker, but Andraste is cool I guess. So respects/believes in the power of Andraste while thinking the maker is a piece of shit and the chantry sucks ass. Even she doesnt know what she really believes, but she did see the ghosts of Andrastes disciples and Shartan, used her ashes as healing salve, killed an old god, etc. So shes been in a weird place recently, crisis of faith/non faith pretty continual.

I5. Are they a good cook?

I mean…. She can cook basics. Shes been feeding herself and the alienage kids since she was old enough to walk so she knows how to get protein and make things edible. Does it taste good? Probably not. She didnt see her first spice till she was 17 years old, but she can skin a rabbit in seven seconds.

LA9, A13, C1, E8, and G6 for Valkya? 😏

A9. Does your OC make a lot of excuses? For themselves? Others?

She tries to excuse bad behavior of herself or others a lot, yeah fgdgdsfhdhs. Mostly she doesnt have to make excuses for herself because she can wholeheartedly be like “yeah i fucked up but whatever im sexy and large and awesome and everyone loves me 🙄whatever baby” and when other people fuck up shes pretty sympathetic even though they are not as large nor as sexy. Shes very used to forgiving and excusing herself its totally alien to her when she really fucks up and is suddenly like wait… valkya…. Did bad?? What is this feeling. Shame?? Guilt?? IMPOSSIBLE.

A13. Does your OC have any phobias? If so, where did they come from?

She hates those giant bugs in morrowind and valenwood a whole fucking lot but I wouldnt exactly place it as a phobia. Those huge mosquitoes and haorvers got no respect but she really hates the morrowind bugs ever since they knocked her over and jumped her while she was pants down peeing drunk as hell in the sand :/ never forgave. Never forgot.

C1. Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

She was raised in a healthy household that tought the basics, prety much “harming others needlessly, stealing, torture, rape, dessecrating the dead, being selfish and not doing right by others, etc etc all basic bad things” are her morals. Her morality is basically treat others how you want to be treated. And if they treat you badly, then have fun beating the shit out of them to show everyone else not to fuck with you. Its a pretty nordic morality in that way. Her morality is also since she was ‘blessed’ with being so large and strong, that she has to also look out for the little guy who cant protect themselves. So If someone treats them how valkya wouldn't want to be treated, then beat the shit out of the person harming them to show them the little guys got backup. Her parents raised her to be a hero and thats p much how she sees herself, which has its benefits and its fuckin problems.

E8. What’s one of your OC’s biggest regrets?

Fucking up Dem and Dariens relationship for sure dude :/ valkya always gonna be sulking over that one. She doesnt regret becoming a vestige, even though it would have made her so much happier not to be because it ended up saving so many people and the world. She regrets not spending more time with Naryu, regrets always having other life saving business she had to run off to, regrets not cherishing the time they had together. Regrets not telling Lyris how she feels, either. Regrets not being able to save as many people as she should have, regrets she wasnt stronger in coldharbor and didnt break out herself. But she tries not to think about it <3

G6. Do they have any favorite childhood memories?

When she was seven she once spent two months training to hold her breath underwater, because her cousin always held it longer and won the gold bet. She trained for hours almost drowning in the river until she could comfortably hold it for up to three minutes. During the next holiday when they all got together again the competitions were on and they both went under- her cousin won, holding their breath for four more minutes before they decided to come up. This was the first lesson she learned that shocked her world view- you always need to know your opponents capabilities. (after she lost 26 gold in the bets, her mother later had to inform her that her cousin was an argonian.)

#thank u beloved this was good to go thru while in class when i should have been paying attention gfhsdhds #valkya #jilly #nirn #thurwen #the ladies and the gilf #presented without evidence; valkya be stupit kinda :/#HOW DO U DO URS SO FAST... SUPER POWERS

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clvmtines · 3 years ago

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welcome aboard, clementine martinez, student #2. we are excited to set sail with you ! has anyone told you that you look like alexa demie? according to our records, you hail from florida, usa, prefer she / her pronouns, are a cis woman, and are here to study creative writing. we also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your online lottery win — we won’t tell anyone. during your first few weeks here, other students said you were + charming, + free-spirited, but also - restive. it sounds like you spend most of your time at the billiards room. upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed a casino chip carried around for luck from home. hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

hi friends! i’m very excited to be here. i’m jay (est, she/her) n i used to play astrid nyland a few months ago if anyone remembers bt i had to leave for personal reasons. i’m so glad to be back now that i hve life sorted and some free time for summer break <3 read on for some details abt this new muse of mine, clementine.

01. biography !

so ! clementine was born in florida. & yes, her real name is clementine. her mom thot it was the cutest name idea ever. clementine mostly goes by clem. she comes from the town [redacted] in florida bcoz i am too lazy to look up a specific town <3 but alas ! it was swampy and humid and she lived in a trailer park.

her parents got knocked up at nineteen. clem was born nine months after a particularly wild 1999 fourth of july. her birthday is march 26th and she’s an aries.

(TW: addiction, child injury) clem’s dad was a gambling addict and petty criminal—he wld steal credit cards n whatnot. he wld gamble away diaper money n it would cause constant fighting until her dad finally left. her mom took this very hard n began drinking a bit too often, leaving clem to to make cereal for dinner n fend for herself. once clem tried to make hot dogs on the stove and spilled boiling water on herself. got a p bad burn on her arm/shoulder and still has a big scar.

the soundtrack of her childhood was cicadas buzzing and stray dogs barking. the sizzle and pop of natty light cans. turning up her ipod to max volume to drown out the sounds of her mother fighting with her new boyfriend.

throughout her upbringing, clem’s dad was always in and out of the picture. he’d blow into town when he hit it big. he’d take her on these little “adventures” like staying in a motel 6 n renting movies at block buster n ordering good pizza nt the dominos shit she ate with her mom lol. ofc he was charging it all to someone’s stolen credit card. he’d always promise to, like, take clem away. n clem was a daddy’s girl so she believed him. the last time it happened was her h.s. graduation. her mom didn’t show ( "overslept” after a bender ) but her dad did and surprised her n said everything wld be different. bt then he bailed on their plans for the next day n when she called his cell, the number was disconnected. tht was the defining “i’m done” moment. clem promised to never be disappointed by her father again.

(TW: racism) her mother has mexican ancestry and clem’s always been called her twin. but clem was raised in a predominately white area and honestly ?? it was really hard without her even realizing it. she’s still unpacking a lot of things today abt her youth that jst weren’t okay bt she thought were normal. like microaggressions, stereotypes, being fetishized by boys in high school. gross shit.

as a kid, clem was rumored to be really poor bc she wore tattered clothes n got free lunch at school. once she invited a friend to her house & the next day they told everyone it’s in a trailer park. that reputation—the “trailer park girl”—was really hard to shake. and clem got almost desperate to shake it. she was endlessly trying to set her old self on fire and emerge from the ashes like a phoenix.

eventually clem became more “popular”. in school she was, like, a straight b student. very average although super creative and quick-thinking. she always had street smarts. problem solving skills. independence. more of, like, practical intelligence as opposed to book smarts because academia bores her tbh. she was like why am i reading these overrated boring books by dead white men or learning abt polynomials when i know nothing abt how to pay a mortage or do taxes. like...she saw the american education system as bullshit and put in modest effort because she didn’t believe it deserved her sweat and tears.

however, she entered the online lottery for the seas program on a whim and got in. so she’s studying creative writing now.

02. personality !

first thing you shld know abt clem is that she’s a compulsive liar essentially—she tells various stories to make her life seem better than what it was. to one person, she’s an heiress to a real estate company and grew up wealthy. to the next she was raised by nomadic hippies. some of her lies are small fibs while others are grandiose tales. she rarely talks about her actual upbringing. she hates talking abt her family or the v real trauma of growing up in a household where both parents struggled w/ addiction; the uncertainty, the broken promises, the fact that she had to grow up so soon and deal w/ so much. it wasn’t fair, and if she thinks about it too much, she feels this anger. anger at the universe. anger at her circumstances. she doesn’t know where to put this anger. she doesn’t know how to shrink it. so she avoids it.

despite her rough upbringing, though, clem is actually really sweet and kind. she’s adventurous, fun-loving, free-spirited, and bold.

bt ! she can also be closed-off, competitive and restive.

she’s seemingly tight with everyone? like she’s jst that girl who can get along with anyone tbh.

in her spare time you can catch her tanning by the pool, hanging at the bar, playing pool ( which she learned from her dad ), and socializing. she’ll never say no to hanging out with people.

she learned a lot from her little “adventures” with her dad, who was very good at conning others and often involved her in his dumb little scams. clem is suuuper good at pulling the ‘im baby 🥺’ card to get what she wants.

she can be a little selfish, because she grew up looking out for herself.

stubborn and dogmatic as hell !!!

she doesn’t do too many relationships but when she does fall, i imagine she falls hard and fast. she refuses to be made a fool of, tho. when she gets vulnerable she flashes back to being a kid, waiting all day for her dad to show up only to have him bail on her. again. she hates that feeling. so if she, like, senses a shift in someone’s energy she’ll b like, “i’ll break up with u before u can do it to me” and the person wasn’t even tryna dump her lmao.

has a lot of sex. too much ?? sex?? mayb. but she’s v sex positive.

her personal style is v late 90s. hair clips, big scrunchies, neon, fur trim, crop and tube tops, hoop earrings, chokers, patterns, platform shoes, biodegradable glitter cuz it’s good fr the earth *winks*. clothes from o-mighty.......actually jst google o mighty, pull up the images and That is clem. she dresses like a bratz doll. she’s dedicated to the aesthetic.

03. headcanons !

her item brought from home is a hot pink poker chip from a casino. her dad gave it to her. he said it reminded him of her because of the color; he got it during one of his winning streaks and said it was lucky. she has a complicated relationship w/ her dad n doesn’t even speak to him anymore, bt she will never go anywhere without it.

she’s a smol bean—only 5′4

an astrology girl and she reads palms ! she absolutely makes astrology tik toks that people only watch because she’s hot. her flirting technique is to ask you to read your palm.

she doesn’t typically drink to get drunk. but she does love a good sugary cocktail. to her, a drink is like an accessory. a blue fishbowl by the pool, a jack and coke as she stands around a bar. usually she'll nurse the same beverage for a while. if you see her wasted it usually means she’s going thru it emotionally lol. the one thing she does do is drugs tho

pretty much listens to exclusively female artists.

a bit of an activist. environmentalism, feminism and the like, she’s v outspoken. vegan for ethical reasons (TW: drugs) bt still does cocaine. she wears shirts with ‘my pussy my choice’ bedazzled on the front.

loves to rollerblade ! back home she didn’t have a car so she’d bike or rollerblade. now she still has her blades and she’ll use them when the ship docks.

03. wanted connections !

Friends, bffs, ride or dies, friends who are like siblings to her, maybe a friend with an unrequited crush on either side ??

an ex she dumped/cheated on/otherwise self sabotaged their relationship because she was afraid of vulnerability.

an ex friend who realized she lies a lot abt herself n felt betrayed. OH ! ESP if they opened up to her on many occasions abt intimate, personal stuff. imagine the betrayal they felt when they found that everything they thought they knew abt clem is a lie.

someone who she actually opens up to. a confidant. or, maybe, like, a stranger she drunkenly spilled her soul to and now she avoids them like the plague.

a rival. clem can be competitive.

her drug dealer

someone she knows she shouldn’t hook up with and… does it anyways. like a friend’s ex or smthing. spicy <3

i welcome anything !

#seasintro #addiction tw #alcohol tw #drugs tw

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quillyfied · 3 years ago

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Fanfic Writer 20 Questions

tagged by @shakespearevillain! Much thanks!

My AO3, because that's the only link I have the energy to provide, folks :P

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

135, according to the internet. That seems like a lot.

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

957,125. Oh heck guys that's not too far off from a truly staggering number that I can't process XD

3. how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Um...thirteen, if you take out the duplicates. In order of content, it's Homestuck, Good Omens, Dice Camera Action, The Adventure Zone, Avatar: Legend of Korra, Twilight, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Powerpuff Girls, Red vs Blue, Sherlock BBC, Avengers, Pokemon Sun and Moon, and Harry Potter. Mind, this is just what's posted on AO3...though even the stuff that's not on AO3 and never will be is mostly here. I think there's some various anime fandoms that got some stuff. Maybe some Phineas and Ferb, some Kick Buttowski.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Let's see...

1. Snake Children, or Snildren, (Good Omens, Wiggleverse)

2. Snake Cottage, or Snottage, (Good Omens, Wiggleverse

3. Comfort and Joy (Good Omens, Wiggleverse collab with OlwenDylluan)

4. running into the sun (but i'm running behind) (The Adventure Zone: Balance)

5. Broken Crowns (Homestuck)

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

I try to! Don't always succeed or have the spoons, but especially sweet or thoughtful comments I try to give some semblance of response to. I cherish every single comment, even if I don't always respond.

6. what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ha. Um. Probably "Ashes", a Twilight fic from Marcus' point of view about losing Didyme. Entirely canon-compliant and canon-driven, which is probably why it ends so sadly. If we're talking off AO3, I'd have to go digging and I have no such time.

7. do you write crossovers?

No, not really; I've done it by very special occasional request. Of course, you have to define a crossover these days, bc to me, a crossover is shoving two fandoms in the same space and making them interact with each other, but some people tag their AU fanfics as crossovers when it's just "insert characters from fandom A into world of fandom B" and that's...not a crossover. That's an AU. Regardless: no. I don't write these.

8. have you ever received hate on a fic?

Kinda? Had one comment where someone said "i am going to kill you" and that's it so I had no context for if it was a playful jest or a statement of intent and I reacted as if it were the second XD (Also had one fic where the story didn't turn out how a reader was expecting and my collaborator and I knew from their comments that they probably weren't going to like what was coming up and they didn't, and there was some small bit of friction over it, but that wasn't really hate.)

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

No.

10. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Kinda? I had someone post a fic from forums/deviantART to FFN because I was young and thought I needed parental permission to make an FFN account (which I did not have, dad said no) and I had a reader who insisted the FFN crowd needed to read it and started posting it without my permission, but they didn't say it was mine until the author's note at the very end of the last chapter; at that point I finally had made an FFN account on my own and tried to insist the poster take it down since I was there now and could post it myself but they didn't reply. I reported it on FFN but nothing was ever done about it and the poster never replied to my messages. Far as I know it might still be there and I'm resigned to it.

11. have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! Would be cool, but I'm not holding my breath XD

12. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Oh yeah, all the time now!

13. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oh boy. Coming from a veteran shipper, this is quite the question. Naruto/Hinata (from Naruto) and Toph/Sokka (from Avatar: The Last Airbender) were my first big OTPs and I will always love them and have a special place in my heart for them. But I don't know if I can pick a FAVORITE. All my ships are precious.

14. whats a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I wish I could have finished Broken Crowns and its prequel (and maybe the possible sequel I was toying with). That was a fun experiment in flying by the seat of my pants, and the first thing I've ever written that was so big it broke Spellcheck, but ultimately falling out of the Homestuck fandom and losing interest in the project were the death of it. I'm glad I was able to provide a "here's where this was going" chapter, at least, so many fics that fall by the wayside don't get that and it's such a great thing to do for readers.

15. what are your writing strengths?

I think I'm best at character voices and dialogue, and maybe the occasional witty turn of phrase. Also technical polish; sure, my plots are contrived and the characterization might be dodgy but by gum at least my commas are mostly in the right spots and everything is spelled correctly XD (Given that as a reader grammatical errors are what throw me off and distract and irritate me most, I think my own writing evolved to not distract myself with that, at least.)

16. what are your writing weaknesses?

Oh, boy. Settings, I think. Describing settings. And finishing long-form work that's in any way original. Long fic based off another story/movie/whatever? Easy peasy, got an outline all ready to go and tailor-made. Long fic based off my own random ideas? Um...help??

17. what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

Since I only know one of them, I am scared stiff to try it XD Google translate can only take you so far.

18. what was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Very, very first? Probably either Disney or Luigi's Mansion. Published on the internet? Harry Potter.

19. what’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh, gosh. I have such love in my heart for many of my own works, which is pleasant and comforting and a nice change from visceral self-loathing, but if I had to pick a few (because heck no I can't just pick one)...the Sherlockbound series I wrote for Homestuck, "i have loved the stars too fondly" for The Adventure Zone: Balance, Suboptimal Omens for DCA, and probably a million oneshots along the way that have helped me work things out and figure myself out as an artist and as a person.

20. who do you tag?

I tag anyone who's looking at this and thinking "gosh, that would be fun." You can even tag me in the post. Blanket permission. Do it!

#quilly writing: director's cut #thanks for the tag friendo!

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lesbian-deadpool · 5 years ago

Text

How The Wade Stole Christmas

Wade has created a chat.

Wade has renamed the chat: HO HO HOE ;)

Wade has added, Y/N, Tony, Peter, Natasha, Bruce, Clint, Thor, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Wanda.

Wade: Ahem hem hem hem!

Wade: Get your glasses of warm milk ready!

Wade: You're about the hear the best Christmas story of your entire lives!

Y/N: Wade, wtf?

Tony: Y/N, what is your friend doing?

Y/N: Trust me, if I knew, I would tell you.

Peter: But what if I don't have a glass of warm milk?

Thor: Nor I.

Thor: What type of milk?

Y/N: Rabbit, obviously.

Thor: Rabbits milk?!

Y/N: NO!

Y/N: Not, 'Rocket' Rabbit! A normal rabbit. Y'know what? Nvm.

Thor: Goat milk?

Thor: No, I ran out of that.

Thor: Horse milk?!

Thor: Will horse milk suffice?

Y/N: That's not milk.

Tony: Got milk? ;)

Natasha: You two are disgusting.

Steve: Thank you, Natasha.

Natasha: But not as disgusting as Thor. He's drinking horse semen.

Steve: And to think I had faith in you.

Natasha: Well you were wrong, bitch!

Steve: And, Thor? Please do not drink the horse milk.

Steve: I don't even wanna know where you got that from.

Thor: Okay, Sir Steve :(

Wade: 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house.

Y/N: Oh, I see now...

Y/N: This should be fun.

Clint: Fun as in fun, or fun.

Y/N: Yes.

Clint: Fantastic.

Wade: Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Bruce: Only Tony, bc he doesn't sleep.

Tony: Wow!

Tony: Thanks, Science-Bro.

Wade: The stockings were hung by the chimney with care.

Wade: In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

Wade has forcefully added Fury to the chat.

Fury: Tf is this shit?

Wade has changed Fury's name to: Old St. Nick

Y/N: Pha!

Old St. Nick: MOTHERFUCKER!

Natasha: OMG!

Tony: Santa Nick!

Old St. Nick: SANTA WHO NOW?

Y/N: There's just something about seeing Santa Claus swearing, that is so magical...

Wade: The children were nestled all snug in their beds.

Natasha: I'm guessing we're the children then.

Y/N: Well, one of us is still legally a child.

Peter: That's me!

Natasha: Yes it is, you sweet little boy.

Tony: Aww, Natasha. You going all soft on us.

Natasha: Shall I show you how hard my blade is?

Tony: PLEASE CONTINUE, WADE!

Wade: While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.

Y/N: They're high.

Natasha: Oh, so high.

Steve: Can you guys just not be like this, for three minutes?

Y/N: Three minutes is a bit of a stretch.

Y/N: But we'll give it a try.

Natasha: I never agreed to that.

Wade: And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap.

Wade: Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

Clint: Man, a nap sound's so good right now.

Peter: Right??

Bruce: Thank God he's reading us to sleep.

Thor: You are welcome.

Bruce: ... Thor...

Thor: :)

Wade: When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter.

Clint: Someone's drunk, and trying to get in.

Tony: It's me.

Tony: I'm drunk.

Thor: Hi, Drunk, I'm Thor!

Thor: I've always wanted to do that!

Y/N: We're proud of you, Thor.

Thor: Thank you!

Wade: I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Wade: Away to the window, I flew like a flash.

Y/N: Pietro!

Clint: Don't bring his name up in front of me.

Natasha: What'd he do now?

Clint: It's between us and the sea, Natasha!

Natasha: Okay...

Wade: Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

Wade: The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow.

Y/N: Ha! Breast.

Steve: Real mature.

Natasha: Noice!!

Tony: Hehehe! Boobies!

Thor: ;)

Clint: >;)

Steve: Children, all of you.

Wade: Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.

Wade: When, what to my wondering eyes should appear.

Wade: But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

Y/N: Wait.

Y/N: Are we-?

Y/N: Are we the reindeer?

Bruce: I think we might be...

Wade: With a little old driver, so lively and quick.

Wade: I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

Old St. Nick: I hate you.

Wade: More rapid than Falcon, his coursers they came.

Wade: And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.

Wade: "Now, DASHER!

Wade has changed Natasha's name to: Dash-tasha

Dash-tasha: Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

Y/N: HAHAHAHAHA!

Old St. Nick: NOW YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS!

Wade: Now, DANCER!

Wade has changed Steve's name to: Can't Dancer

Can't Dancer: ...

Can't dancer: I hate this

Wade: Now, PRANCER and VIXEN!"

Wade has changed Peter's name to: Pran-ker

Pran-ker: I love this!

Y/N: You're not the only one!

Dash-tasha: Just wait until your name gets changed.

Wade has changed Tony's name to: Dix-en

Dix-en: Hey!

Wade: "On, COMET!

Wade has changed Bruce's name to: Comet-at-me

Comet-at-me: What?

Dix-en: I think he may be talking about that time you got drunk and started yelling at Steve to, "COME AT ME, YOU STAR-SPANGLED BITCH!"

Comet-at-me: Ohhhhhhh...

Can't Dancer: You really scared me that day.

Y/N: You made me cry laughing that day... good times. Good times.

Can't Dancer: Those were not good!

Wade: On CUPID!

Wade has changed Clint's name to: Cupid

Cupid: Yep.

Wade: On, DONNER and BLITZEN!"

Wade has changed Thor's name to: Donn-or

Donn-or: :)

Donnor: I am quite enjoying this.

Wade has changed Y/N's name to: Y/N-BLITZES-EM!

Y/N-BLITZES-EM: Do I fully understand mine?

Y/N-BLITZES-EM: No.

Y/N-BLITZES-EM: Do I love it?

Y/N-BLITZES-EM: ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY!

Dash-Tasha: I hate you.

Y/N-BLITZES-EM: HA!

Wade: "To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!"

Wade: "Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

Dix-en: Right, I'm sick of this.

Dix-en has changed all but Old St. Nick's names back to their original state

Tony: Ahh...

Tony: Now, that's better.

Old St. Nick: I hate you, too.

Wade: As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly.

Wade: When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.

Wade: So up to the house-top the coursers they flew.

Wade: With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

Peter: Toys?!

Natasha: He really is a child.

Y/N: What kind of toys?? ;)

Tony: ;)

Clint: ;)

Thor: ;)

Steve: God.

Bruce: Thor? Do you even know what you're winking for?

Thor: No, I do not.

Bruce: Right.

Y/N: And Natasha, don't act like you're any better.

Y/N: I've seen your "not collection" of action figures.

Natasha: ...

Natasha: I'm gonna fucking kill you.

Y/N: WADE?!

Wade: And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof.

Wade: The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

Y/N: Well, only three of us are truly little.

Y/N: *Looks pointedly at Natasha, Tony, and Peter*

Natasha: We'll kill you.

Peter: But I don't wanna kill anyone.

Tony: And I don't wanna move.

Tony: Me sleepy.

Bruce: That's a first.

Tony: Right, you listen here.

Natasha: FINE!

Natasha: I'll kill you.

Y/N: ;)

Wade: As I drew in my hand, and was turning around.

Wade: Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

Peter: He fell down.

Y/N: And most likely landed on his ass.

Clint: Santa, how you feel?

Old St. Nick: ...

Clint: Ohhh, he's not talking.

Tony: He angey Santa Claus.

Natasha: Probably bc his ass hurts.

Old St. Nick: Fuck all y'all, mother-fuckers.

Wade: He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot.

Wade: And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

Y/N: Oh, Santa you dirty!

Tony: Ahh, Santa, what's in your bag??

Steve: My eyes.

Steve: MY EYES!

Peter: Your virgin eyes, Mr Rogers?

Steve: Yes!

Steve: Wait.

Steve: What?!

Steve: NO!

Tony: Hahaha! Good one, kid!

Clint: Oh, Santa, you want me to sit on your lap??

Natasha: Santa, what would Mrs Claus say?

Thor: Santa ;)

Bruce: Omg, Thor.

Old St. Nick: ...

Wade: A bundle of toys he had flung on his back.

Wade: And he looked like a Peddler just opening his pack.

Y/N: Does anyone even know what a Peddler is?

Peter: Nope.

Bruce: A Peddler is a person who sells illegal drugs or stolen goods. It was slang, mostly used in the 1920s to 1940s.

Y/N: Okay, Wikipedia.

Y/N: Also, Awesome!

Y/N: Where do I sign up?

Natasha: Y/N, no.

Y/N: Y/N, yes!

Wade: His eye- How it twinkled! His dimples how merry!

Wade: His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

Wade: His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow.

Wade: And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

Natasha: Aww, Nick you sound so cute!

Tony: Like a little cartoon!

Y/N: I'd love to see that!

Old St. Nick: ...

Old St. Nick: Just you wait.

Old St. Nick: Just you fuckers wait.

Wade: The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth.

Wade: And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

Wade: He had a broad face and a little round belly.

Wade: That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

Wade has forced Old St. Nick to say:

Old St. Nick: HO HO HO!

Old St. Nick: MOTHER-FUCKER!

Wade: He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf.

Wade: And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

Wade: A wink of his eye and a twist of his head.

Wade: Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

Y/N: Aww.

Y/N: See, Nick. You're not that scary at all!

Old St. Nick: ...

Wade: He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.

Wade: And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk.

Y/N: *Eye emoji*

Steve: Y/N...

Y/N: Yes, Steve?

Steve: Nothing. There's no helping you.

Y/N: Yes!

Y/N: I win!

Wade: And laying his finger aside of his nose.

Wade: And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

Wade: He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle.

Thor: That's us!

Steve: It is.

Old St. Nick: I hate you all.

Wade: And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

Wade: But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight.

Wade: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!

Wade: GOOD-NIGHT BITCHES!

Wade: YOUVE HAD YOUR STORY!

Wade: NOW GO TF TO SLEEP!

Wade has kicked everyone from the chat.

(Three Hours later. When everyone's asleep)

Wade: AHAHAH!

Wade: Now I can move on with the next step of my plan.

Wade has added F.R.I.D.A.Y.

Wade has changed F.R.I.D.A.Y's name to: FRI-BAE

Wade: Heyyy ;)))

FRI-BAE: What?

Wade: ;)))

FRI-BAE: Please don't look at me like that.

Wade: You know everything, right?

FRI-BAE: I have access to all of Earths information. And a select few hundred planets, thanks to Captain Danvers.

Wade: Wow... that'll be useful for later.

Wade: Anyway!

Wade: Well, did you know I could show you a good time?

Wade: All you have to do is give me access to the compound, and I'll rock your world around the Christmas tree ;)

FRI-BAE: Ugh!

Wade: That's what all the girls say to me ;)

FRI-BAE: Please leave me alone.

Wade: I'll do anything for you. Just give me access first ;)

FRI-BAE: FINE!

FRI-BAE: Just never talk to me again.

Wade: Your wish is my command ;)

FRI-BAE has given Wade access to all of The Avengers Compound

Wade: There's more where that came from ;)

FRI-BAE: I must go re-boot all of my systems now, because of the corruption you have caused me.

Wade: It's all apart of my charm ;)

FRI-BAE has gratefully left the chat.

Wade: Works like a charm.

Wade has added Goose to the chat

Goose: Dyhcdooisikgnrngssyujd

Wade: Max! Get the slay ready!

Goose: ???

That chat has been festively closed.

479 notes · View notes

cas-kingdom · 5 years ago

Text

A submission by @thorin-is-a-cuddler --- The Secret

A/N: The Tommy Shelby sister!reader treasure horde that is your tumblr has been my shelter from the ongoing surreal storm disaster that is the year 2020. I love your fanfictions so much that I wish I could become one of them myself. Instead of tricking biology and the internet into making that wish come true, I’ve spent my evening writing something for you in return. :)

word count: 2120

reader is the second youngest Shelby (age 17), setting is the first season bc I haven’t watched more than that :D

„Tommy?… Tommy!…“ You dropped the hand you had previously used to snap in front of your brother’s thoughtful expression, realizing it was useless. He was so deep in thought he didn’t even react to you gently pushing his arm. „Tommy, are you being serious right now?“

You raised a brow when you realized he hadn’t blinked just once during your attention-craving ordeal. He was seated at his table completely motionless, as if he were catatonic. The cigarette between his fingers was burning down all by itself. Drastic situations, drastic measures. You positioned your thumb underneath his fingers and flicked the cigarette out of his grip, sending it flying over the surface of his table. Ash was scattered over Tommy’s suit as he eventually blinked in confusion, looked down on his arm and started brushing off the dirt with a curse. „Fucking hell!!“ Still confused and sort of absent his gaze focused on you, a disapproving crease between his brows. „(Y/N), what the hell do you think you’re doing?“

„Me??“ You took a step back from the table, hands on hips. A feeling of worry about your brother mixed with the slight anger about his dismissive tone. „You’re one to talk big, sitting there like you’re sleeping with your eyes open. I could have stolen your books right out from underneath your nose.“

Tommy sighed and rubbed at his face with his hands, frustration evident on his features. Not with you, though, no, with himself. Frustration over you seeing him like that, over you being right about the stealing part. You tilted your head as the feelig of worry won over the anger you had felt riling up in your stomach. It appeared to you possible that you had accidentally said the truth. Tommy had been sleeping with his eyes wide open.

You watched him as he tried to regain some kind of control over himself, grabbing for the crystal bottle at the end of the table and pouring himself a glass of Scotch. Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face, trying to see through his ever-tough, ever-inaccessible Peaky Blinder mode. Tommy hadn’t always been this way.

Before the war, he had laughed more, had been more fun to fool around with. He had been more careless and less quiet than he was now. Day to day, he gave you more reason to worry about him now. Sometimes you caught yourself losing track of what he was saying during family meetings, because you were focusing too much on the tired, pale look on his face.

„So,“ Tommy said in his deep voice, blue eyes the color of water locking with your own, „what have you come to me for?“

You took a deep breath and straightened your back. You were wearing a smiliar outfit as he was, your black tie one of Arthur’s, your grey vest one of Tommy’s old ones. Your hair was falling long over your shoulders. „It’s actually not that important. Arthur wanted to know if he should fetch you some cigarettes. He’ll be off buying a bunch later. I’m supposed to tell him before.“ You took a chair and settled down on it on the other side of Tommy’s table.

It was hard to read in his face what he was thinking of that. His eyes stayed on your face intently.

„Until then, tell me.“ You put your elbows on your knees, leaning over the table, a little closer to him.

He cocked his head to the side slightly, fumbling around with his pocket to get out a cigarette. There was the slightest twitch in the corners of his lips, as he tiredly leaned forward to light the thing. „Tell you,“ he repeated calmly, fire glinting in front his lips, „tell you what, (Y/N)?“

You raised your eye-brows expectantly, a soft look on your face. „How ’bout you tell me why you sittin’ here like a corpse, starin’ your cigarette to death and freaking me out?“

The tiredness on his features intensified. He sighed quietly and drew on his cigarette, eyes darting around the room. „Was I, eh?“

You bit your bottom-lip and leaned back in the chair, arms crossed in front your chest. „Tommy, you know I’m only asking this because I’m hella worried about you.“

At that, he actually frowned. Tommy Shelby fucking frowned. Rendered speechless, he slightly squinted his eyes at you. You rolled your eyes with a sigh and reached over the table to take a sip from his Scotch, before putting it back in front of him. „If this was your last glass of Scotch,“ you tried, wiping at your lips, „your last one ever. What would you say to me? What would you want to get off your chest?“

Tommy actually released a tiny smile at your antics, softness spreading on his face. He put out his cigarette and grabbed the glass, holding it high enough to let a few rays of late afternoon sunshine reflect in the brown liquid. „My last glass.“ He saluted to you and downed the contents in one go. You looked at him patiently, waiting for his next words. His smile got a tad bit wider. „I just finished my last glass and what I really want to tell you, (Y/N), is this.“ He folded his hands in front of him, elbows on the table, leaning in closer to you. He took a deep breath, locking his eyes on you. Then he waved his hand in a sign for you to come closer. „Come here. It’s a secret.“

Your first instinct was to scoff, show him the finger and leave, at best kick something on your way out. On a normal day you might have done it. Your brothers could be ruthless when it came to teasing you and you had grown pretty accustomed to it.

But this wasn’t a normal day. You had caught Tommy sleeping wide-eyed over his treasured books, looking like a ghost. And for once, you two were alone and could use the time, no interruptions to be feared since everyone else was busy.

So instead of acting like the seventeen years old sister who was used to her brothers’ tricks, the ten year old girl from your past took over, a glow in your eyes as you got out of your chair to lean over the table and listen to Tommy whispering a secret into your ear.

„Don’t hit me though.“ You couldn’t help but mumble warily as he waved for you to get closer and closer. You were delighted to see him shake his head with a huffed laugh at your words.

„No. You’re too old for that, I fear.“

You were close enough for him to headbutt you now, which was also not a very nice experience, but since that was usually Arthur’s way to mess with you, you didn’t expect Tommy to do it.

„No, I will tell you a secret.“ He added quietly and bent his body forward slightly, his face coming closer to your ear. You realized you were tensing up. Brothers would be brother. Was that a mischievous glint in his eyes? „The secret is,“ you instinctively moved your shoulder closer to your neck, as his breath went so close to your sensitive skin, „it’s that you’ll never be too old for this.“

Before you had the chance to realize what he was doing, his head shot forward and he blew a ticklish reaspberry on your neck, his left hand keeping your head close with gentle force. You squealed, literally squealed and tried to pull away immediately, hitting aimlessly in Tommy’s general direction. He held your head close well enough, making your neck explode with the tingly tune he was playing on it. „NONONO NOOHOHO!! TOMMY STOOOOP!!“ You screeched as he repeated the mean attack time and time again, only stopping to take a breath, before managing to hit an even more ticklish part of your neck. You couldn’t help the mad giggles that were pouring out of you and were very close to crumbling into a tiny ball on your side of the table, just out of his reach, so he changed tactics. „Oh no,“ he growled, „you stay right here.“

With what could be called a high-pitched squeal you were lifted off the ground as Tommy’s hands grabbed you under your arms which already set off all the ticklish alarms in that general area to pull you over the table right into his arms. He easily gained control over your flopping, hitting, flailing form with his strong hands, as you tried to twist out of his lap and escape your ticklish fate. With your back pressed against his chest, he wrapped his arms around your upperbody, one hand slipping into the space under your left arm as the other one was quick to meander down to your right side, squeezing ’til you were wheezing. You were laughing so hard, your cheeks were turning a dark shade of red. With your head thrown back against his shoulder you were cursing his name, barely able to spit out a coherent word. „T-TOMMY!! YOUHOU’LL GO TO HEHHEHHELL!!!“

His chuckles vibrated against your back, as he managed to lift your left arm a little, getting better access to the highly ticklish spot just underneath.

„That is true.“ He sounded delighted, as if he were actually enjoyig himself. You tried to escape with a sudden bolt and he easily pulled you right back into the danger zone, even more of that low laughter flowing out of him - short and yet so effective. Honestly, you would have suffered through worse ordeals to hear just one of these short laughs he breathed out when he was happy. Helplessly you continued to shake in his embrace as his fingers scooted over your stomach, following your reactions to make out the spots that needed special attention. That was until you madly held on to his fingers and tried your best to keep them at a distance from your body. „Plehehhease!“ You cackled, the effort it cost you to keep his fingers where they were audible in your squeaky voice. „Stahahp, Tommy. No more tickling!“

„No?“

„NohohOHO!!“ Panicked laughter escaped you when he almost freed his hands from your grip - it wasn’t like he couldn’t do just that, but he was resisting the urge. „PleheASE Tommy! Pleeease!“

Another short laugh rumbled through his chest and down your back, making you feel safe and happy and comfortable, despite your nerve endings being on edge after that tickle attack. „Alright. Alright. I’m through with you. For now.“

You slumped against him, when he peacefully put his arms around you again, this time for holding you close on his leg, not for better access to your ticklish spots. Both of your were silently smiling for a while, you catching your breath, him rocking you back and forth. Then you bit your lip and pinched the skin on one of his arms, making him pull that arm back with a playful hiss.

„Ow.“ He sounded almost reproachful there, making you bark out a laugh again.

„You got nerve going ow after what you just put me through!“ He ducked his head with a grin when you tried to hit him over the back of it. You crossed your arms over your chest with a huff and he interpreted that as his cue to wrap his arms back around you comfortably, smoothing your temper with his warmth. „What was that for anyway?“ You comortably lay back, wrapping yourself up more in his hug.

Tommy smiled gently, tiredly. You saw his eye-lids fluttering dangerously often. „You want to know the real secret, little sister?“

Intently you watched his face over your shoulder, trying not to move too much in Tommy’s lap to keep from jostling him out of his sleepy haze. Fondly you watched as he was slowly, but securely falling asleep on your shoulder.

„Tell me the secret.“ You whispered, moving a hand up to caress his head.

„Cheering you up is cheering me up.“ He answered as he closed his eyes and nuzzled your shoulder, head too heavy to hold up anymore. „And I can sleep best, when…“

You turned your head when he stopped speaking. His face was peaceful, his breath was going smoothly and his eyes were closed. He didn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know what he had meant to say.

You, too, slept best when someone you loved was close and content.

And if Arthur entered Tommy’s bureau an hour later to ask for you and found both his siblings entangled on the chair, peacefully sleeping, he never said so out loud to either of you.

CK’s notes: you are the sweetest. im so unbelievably happy my stories make you feel that way; i write them for the exact same feeling. thank you for this. <3

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