#the author can't even offend in an original way

[konstantya]

Omg, this book reads like My Immortal, if My Immortal had been based off Philip Marlowe instead of HP.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Six.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You finally start to appreciate the happiness that having a soulmate brings.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. so much fluff.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - the sixth installment!! thank you to everyone who voted in my poll - I listened, and decided to make this chapter as sweet as pie, because I think we all need it. it's nice to have a little break from the angst. just a liiiiittle break though. a tiny one. as always, thank you for all of your love and support and enthusiasm and patience and kindness towards this story. so much love for every one of you. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Are you happy?"

You stretch your feet further into the sand and sit up, wiggling to get comfortable on the picnic blanket.

"That's a big question to start with."

Stella laughs and closes her notebook, deciding to take a different route than originally planned.

"I just mean... be honest with me. I'm not gonna be offended if you say no."

"Do you think I'm gonna say no?"

"Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?"

You tilt your head and watch her, smiling softly.

"I thought this was supposed to be an employee performance review."

"You're not my employee and you know it."

Both of you laugh, the sound whipped away by the sea breeze.

"Then what am I, Stella?" you chuckle.

"You're basically my partner. Come on, we've done all of this together. You helped me build this business from the ground up - I couldn't have done it without you."

You go to protest, so she continues.

"I think you should be. My partner, that is. Obviously there's logistics to work out, but it'd be fifty fifty. You and I, co-owners. It doesn't feel right to me that you're my 'employee'. I'm not your boss. We're equals."

Your mind is running a mile a minute, trying to process what Stella's asking of you. Being her business partner is an opportunity you know is rare and incredibly special - and it could potentially set you up for life - but you can't help but think about the fact it's a big commitment. About home. About Bucky.

"You don't have to answer me right now - I just want you to think about it. We always talked about opening up businesses of our own. I should have asked you to be my partner at the beginning, but honestly... I didn't know if you were gonna stick around. It kinda felt like you had one foot out the door when we started."

You take a deep breath, nodding.

"Yeah. I, uh - I think I did. Don't get me wrong, I was super excited, but the idea of moving away when I felt like I'd just got home was a lot to process. I'd just settled back there, and then I was gonna be packing up all of my stuff again and shipping myself across the country. "

"I didn't realise it was so tough for you, you know. I just assumed you wouldn't mind moving. I mean, you were always up for it, back at school."

"Things changed, after I graduated. I got home, and a couple of things happened and I guess it just... turned everything upside down. Home is different now. In a good way, I think."

"You're different now, too."

You look at her carefully, half attempting to read her mind.

"How do you mean?"

"You're... more grounded. More careful. You think through everything way more than you ever did. Almost like you've realised you're not invincible anymore."

There's a feeling, when you're young, that you're indestructible. Unharmable. Broken bones mend, cuts and bruises heal, hearts and minds forget about their aches if you give them long enough.

Then one day, that feeling is gone. And you realise that you're mortal - made of flesh and blood and bones that will one day be returned to the Earth, whether you like it or not.

Meeting your soulmate is like having that realisation again, but bigger. Again, and again, and again. You don't live for yourself, anymore. You live for them. The pain they'd feel if they lost you is unfathomable, completely unimaginable.

So you become more careful. Less reckless. You drive a little slower, take things a little easier, quit your dangerous hobbies and unhealthy habits. You need to be alive for as long as possible. And you know your soulmate will do the same.

That's how you can tell a Tethered person from an Untethered one. Ask two people to go skydiving with you, and the Tethered one will tell you no. They can't risk it. It's not worth it.

Stella's right. You have realised you're not invincible anymore. You're a little more cautious when you climb ladders, you don't balance precariously on the kitchen counters anymore. You look twice when you cross the street, and don't risk it if there's a car coming and you could maybe get across.

You're also painfully aware that Bucky's older than you. He'll be turning forty in less than two years. Sure, he's not ancient, but it does mean you'll have less time together than Lacie will with Cameron, for example. And that hard truth makes you live a little less recklessly, every single day.

"I guess I just... grew up."

You're honestly not sure why you don't just tell Stella about Bucky. You know she'd understand. But there's a part of you that feels protective over what you have - territorial, even. Your Tethering is sacred, almost, and you feel the primal urge to guard it with your life. To lock it in a box and keep it away from anything that could harm it. The less people that know, the less damage that can be done. Maybe.

"I did too. The world is kinda scary now we're not in that little culinary school bubble, huh?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "We thought that was hard. Little did we know."

"Take your time, thinking about my offer. But just know that I really, really appreciate the fact that you're here. That you believed in me enough to move across the country. It means a lot."

"Of course," you say, reaching across to grab her hand. "I always believed in you, Stella. I always knew you'd do something great."

"We'd."

"Hmm?"

"We'd do something great. The two of us. Together."

"I always knew that we'd do something great," you correct.

You're starting to believe that, as time goes on. You were born to do this. You deserve to live your dreams.

Let the happiness seep through, you'd told yourself.

It finally feels like it is.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"There's a guy here to see you."

Isabel pops her head around the door, grinning at you like she knows something you don't.

"Again?"

She nods, giggling.

"Let me guess... he's hot, tall, brown hair?"

"Bingo."

"Thanks, Isa. I'll be right out. Is it busy out there?"

"It's quieter than it was. There was a pastry rush this morning, but we're good now."

You laugh and hang up your apron, washing your hands quickly before making your way to the café.

You feel like you're having déjà vu, this situation oddly familiar.

Just like Isa said, he's stood waiting with his back to you, broad shoulders filling out his powder blue short sleeve button up.

You're excited to see Rafael again. You've been trying a new cookie recipe for his sister, and you're eager to get him to try it. You're mentally making a note to buy a nice box to put them in when you feel it.

The lights get a little brighter, the colours a little more vibrant. The tightness in your chest eases, allowing you to take a full, deep breath. You can suddenly hear the birds outside singing, melodies drifting through the open doors like a summer breeze.

The man turns around, and it's not Rafael.

It's Bucky.

You're moving before you can even process it, running and jumping into his arms. You inhale, revelling in his familiar scent. He's here. Your happiness has arrived.

"Surprise," he laughs quietly into your ear. "Miss me, honey girl?"

You beam a grin at him, pulling away to look at his handsome face.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, I know. I feel it."

He places a hand over his heart gently, looking at you with pure adoration.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's been a month since your Mom's birthday. A month since I've seen your pretty face. A month too long."

You roll your eyes jokingly, so he continues.

"You don't mind that I'm here, do you? Because I'll go, if it's too much for you. I know me showing up unannounced is a lot to process."

"Don't go," you reply quickly, grabbing his hand. "I want you here, Buck. More than anything."

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, cradling your face in his warm hands. The background of the café melts away, the man in front of you the only thing that matters.

You pull away and smile at him, pressing your forehead into his gently.

"Come back to the kitchen with me. Let's get away from all the noise."

You grab his hand and pull him with you, ignoring the excited giggling from Isabel behind the counter.

Bucky perches against a counter, leaning back to allow you to stand in between his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips, stealing kisses in between giddy smiles.

"I hope you weren't expecting a day full of super exciting adventures. I've got a list full of stuff I've got to get finished by closing."

"Honey, I'm more than content to stay here and watch you work. There's nothing I love more than watching you bake."

You run your fingertips over his face carefully, gently tracing his features as you look at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't care what we do, as long as we're together."

You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as tightly as you can.

"I feel like I hit the soulmate jackpot," you whisper.

"No one's as lucky as I am," he whispers back. "Now, come on. Let me see you work your magic."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky, it turns out, makes a damn good assistant.

Instead of just watching, he volunteers to help in whatever way he can. You set him onto weighing your ingredients, so you can focus on making and decorating. He takes his job very seriously, measuring down to the precise gram each time. You can't help but grin as you watch him concentrate, determined to get it right.

At lunch time, Isabel brings you both coffee and sandwiches, entering just as you're teaching Bucky how to properly fold in ingredients.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You could never. Isa, this is Bucky. Buck, this is Isabel. Our best waitress."

He holds out his floury hand for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Isabel. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?"

Her eyes light up as she looks at you, fighting the smile off her face.

"My honey talks about you all the time."

Isabel glances between the two of you, clearly trying to figure things out.

"And you two are..."

"Soulmates," you say at the same time as Bucky does.

Her jaw drops for a moment, before she laughs.

"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly before Stella's voice calls her name from out front.

"I better go. But me and you are gonna talk about this later."

"Fine," you laugh.

"Nice to meet you!" Bucky shouts after her, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like that we're just telling people now."

"Yeah, me too, actually. I thought it'd be scary, but... it feels right."

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling you into his side.

"We've still got the two most important people left to tell."

Your muscles tense and Bucky feels it instantly, running his thumb in patterns over your hip gently.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm almost ready, Buck. We can't avoid it forever. Next time I'm home, I think we should do it. We should tell them."

Bucky hooks two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Are you sure? Once we tell them, we can't undo it. We'll only do it if you're one hundred percent sure."

"I'll be ready when the time comes. It'll be a huge weight off of both of our shoulders, which I think we both need."

"Okay then," he says, kissing your forehead. "Next time you're home."

Isabel clears her throat from the doorway, smiling sheepishly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this again, but... there's a guy here to see you."

You laugh, untangling yourself from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek.

"Send him through. Thanks, Isa."

The man you were originally expecting to see this morning walks into the kitchen, envelopes in his hand.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Rafael."

He gives you a quick hug, before waving at Bucky.

"Hey, man. You've gotta be the soulmate, right?"

Bucky chuckles, coming over to shake Raf's hand.

"Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You can feel it the minute you walk into the room. There's like, electricity in here."

You laugh, hiking yourself up to sit on the counter. Bucky stands next to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Here," Rafael says, handing you an envelope. "We're having a gala next month, for the charity that has supported my sister. We'd love it if you could come - and bring your date too, of course."

"I'd love to," you say as you read the invitation. "Do you need me to bring anything? You know I'll happily make something, if you guys need it."

"You would?"

"Absolutely! I could bring a cake, if you like? I haven't done a proper, three tiered cake in forever. I'd love to."

"That'd be... amazing. Seriously. We just want to raise as much money as possible."

"Of course. Thanks for these, Raf. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's getting a tiny bit stronger every day, and that's all we can really ask for."

You reach a hand out to squeeze his in support.

"You know where I am if you need anything."

"Of course. Thank you, so much. I've gotta run - I've got like a hundred of these invites to deliver. But I'll see you at the weekend?"

"For sure. See you, Raf!"

"Nice to meet you, Bucky."

"You too, man. Take care."

Isa shows Rafael out of the door, winking at you on her way out.

"Damn, he's handsome," Bucky laughs.

"Isn't he?" you giggle. "Nothing on my soulmate though, I'm afraid."

"Shut up," he blushes, leaning in to capture your lips. "You wanna get dinner when you're done here?"

"Yes, please. I'll show you around my new apartment too."

"Can't wait."

There's not an ounce of tension in your muscles as you finish up your bakes for the day, gliding around the kitchen while Bucky stands and watches your every move.

If you could pause time, this would be when you'd do it. You'd be content to live in this moment forever.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The minute Bucky walks through your front door, he inhales deeply. The entire place smells like you, cosy and golden.

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, baby. I love the windows."

He makes his way over to your kitchen, where the glass panes run from floor to ceiling. Sitting on the bench pressed against it, he takes in the view, savouring the feeling of the sun on his face.

You sit down on his lap, draping your legs over him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Nuzzling your face into his jaw, you press a kiss to the stubble, resisting the urge to lick the salt off of his skin.

"Come on," you murmur. "Let me show you my bedroom. The sun sets in that direction, so it's always beautiful in there."

You grab his hand and walk him across the apartment, swinging open the door to your room and pushing him inside.

He takes in the space for a moment before turning in your direction, striding over to smash his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his shirt and pull him closer, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth with ease.

Bucky leans in to trail kisses down your neck as he slips your shirt over your head, making quick work of unclasping your bra with skilled fingers. He grasps your chest in both hands, massaging gently as he nips at your throat.

"So fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me."

You whine and unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. You're desperate to see more, desperate to feel his skin on yours, desperate to bare every inch of him.

Your fingers make deft work of his belt, sliding it from its loops and throwing it to the ground. You unpop his button and slide down the zipper, pulling his jeans off his legs in no time. You shimmy out of your skirt, leaving you both in your underwear.

The evening sun seeps through the window panes, illuminating the room in hues of orange and gold. The light hits Bucky's skin, making him glow in a halo of love and adoration.

He walks you backwards, wrapping an arm around your back to throw you onto the white sheets of your bed. Crawling over you, he settles in between your legs, pressing gentle kisses from your ankles to your inner thighs.

"The way you look when you come has been burned in my mind," he whispers. "Need to see it again. It's been too long."

He slides your underwear down your legs and wastes no time, diving into you like a man starved. He devours you, tongue never ceasing it's movements. His hands pry your thighs apart, one arm thrown over your stomach to keep you still. When your muscles start to shake, Bucky doubles down on his efforts, lapping and sucking at you like you're his lifesource.

"Oh, Buck, I'm-"

You see stars as you come, white and silver shapes flying through your vision. Bucky never stops, prolonging your release for as long as he can. When you go boneless, he ceases, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

"You okay?" he murmurs, moving so his body smothers yours.

"I'm good," you smile, leaning up to kiss him. You groan when you taste yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Need you, baby. Please, Buck."

"You sure?"

You smile at him, cradling his face in your hands.

"Couldn't be surer."

He dips down to lick into your mouth once more, shucking his boxers off and throwing them across the room. Slipping a condom on, he lines himself up, eyes meeting yours.

"I need you more than I need air to breathe," he murmurs. "You know that, don't you?"

"Buck," you breathe. "I've been going crazy here without you."

He goes to speak, but stops himself, instead leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whisper. "I know."

Bucky slides home in one smooth thrust, both of you gasping. One of his hands finds your hip, the other resting against your throat as an anchor. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders.

"Fuck me, please."

"Fuck," he groans. "I'll be replaying that in my head forever."

You chuckle breathlessly, gasping when he draws his hips back and forward again. He sets an even pace - not too fast, not too slow. He has you right where he wants you, both of your bodies in perfect synchronisity. It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything's fallen into place.

Bucky dances his fingers from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles. He plays you like a violin, your muscles tensing as you get closer.

"That's it, pretty girl. Fuck, you're so good for me. You close, honey? Gonna come for me again?"

You nod frantically as he picks up his pace, hips colliding with yours. He groans as you tighten around him, head dropping to rest against yours.

"Come for me, honey girl," he whispers. "Please."

Your back arches as you find your release, nails scratching at the skin of Bucky's back. The pain tips him over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving.

"I think we're naturals at that," you chuckle hoarsely.

"You think it's the soulmate thing, or are we just that good?"

"I think we're just that good," you laugh, pushing him off your body so he lands next to you. You link your fingers with his, resting your head on his chest.

"I need a drink."

"I was just thinking that, actually. You wanna go out? Know anywhere?"

"There's a cute little bar that looks out over the cove - it has good food and good cocktails. You wanna go there?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," he affirms, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I'd kill for a pineapple margarita right now."

Bucky sits up suddenly, bringing you with him, arms wrapped around you.

"Then let's go get my girl a pineapple margarita."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The golden lights adorn the beams of wood above your head, the deck illuminated in the gentle glow. The ocean waves break the shore in a comfortingly repetitive motion, a calming soundtrack to the evening. You sit across from Bucky at your table for two, the sunset casting orange hues across the horizon.

"It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah," you agree, smiling. "The view is pretty good."

Your eyes haven't left his, lost in the sea blue of his irises. He chuckles, running his thumb over the back of your hand where it rests atop the table.

"This is our first date, you know."

"Really?"

"I mean, we've been 'dating' this whole time - but we've never gone out and had dinner like this. Held hands and all."

"You're right. Our first date of many, huh?"

"Our first of countless," he grins, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a gentle kiss.

"Where do my parents think you are?"

"Visiting a cousin in Nevada."

You laugh, and the sound makes Bucky light up, electricity running through his veins.

"You're a scarily good liar."

"To everyone but you."

"I used to think I was a good liar. Until I met you, that is."

Just as he's about to respond, your waitress appears, two pineapple margaritas in hand. She takes your orders and leaves, smiling at you.

"Oh, shit. She forgot to give us straws. I'm gonna grab some - be right back."

You chase her inside, tapping her shoulder gently.

"Excuse me - could I get a couple of straws, please?"

"Of course. Sorry!" she apologises, handing them to you.

"Thank you! Your shirt is so cute, by the way."

"Thanks - it's thrifted! You're gorgeous, girl. And your boyfriend is stupidly hot too. You're a pretty couple."

You thank her and laugh, returning to Bucky with a grin on your face.

"What's got you smiling?"

"The waitress called you my boyfriend."

"Huh. As much as I love the commitment... boyfriend kinda sounds like we're in ninth grade, doesn't it?"

You throw your head back, laughing with your entire being.

"That's what I thought. There's gotta be a better word. Partner? No, that makes us sound forty."

"I am almost forty."

"Oops."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he can't wipe the blinding grin from his face. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of you, admiring the way the breeze caresses your face as the setting sun beats down.

"Sneaky," you tease. "Let me see?"

He hands you the phone, letting you look through. You swipe right one too many times, and accidentally land on a picture of a blueprint laid out across a kitchen counter. His kitchen counter.

"Babe... what's this?"

You don't miss the way Bucky's cheeks heat up, blush creeping across his chest that's exposed by the V neckline of his blue button up. He stutters for a moment, before finding his footing.

"They're blueprints. Plans for a house."

"A house?"

"I want to build a house."

When you keep looking at him softly, he doubles down.

"I want to build a house for us."

Your breath hitches in your chest, the world going silent momentarily.

"You... you do?"

"My Dad worked in construction my entire childhood. I watched him build houses, apartment buildings, bungalows... everything. I've always wanted to do it, but never had reason to. Until now."

You squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.

"I've been planning it for upwards of ten years. But I'm taking it more seriously, now. Those blueprints are the final ones. It's all mapped out, down to the square inch. I've made some modifications for you, obviously."

He zooms in on the picture, pointing out areas on the plans.

"I've added a big island in the kitchen with a tonne of storage in it, for all of your supplies. I know you have that huge mixer, so I've made sure there's enough space for it to fit underneath with the doors closed."

You take a deep breath, lump in your throat forming unwillingly.

"Up here, there's a window at the top of the stairs. I've added a sketch of a bench which I'll upholster, so you can sit and read in the sunlight."

Tangling your legs with his under the table, you urge him to continue.

"I've also made sure there's a balcony off the master bedroom that overlooks the garden. I know how much you love sitting on yours in your apartment at home. There's probably like a hundred more little modifications for you, but those are just a few."

Tears are running down your cheeks freely, emotion escaping you like a flash flood.

"Bucky..."

"If it's too much too soon, please tell me. I won't be offended, baby. I know it's a lot."

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You jump up from your seat and around the table, throwing yourself into his lap to kiss him happily.

"I can't wait to build a house with you, Buck."

He grins at you, joy radiating off him in waves.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He blinks back tears for a second, processing the words he's been waiting to hear for what feels like an eternity.

"I love you too, honey girl. My pretty baby."

He leans in to kiss you tenderly, the rest of the world melting away. It feels like it's just the two of you, floating on cloud nine.

Suddenly, you get it. You understand why people say this is the greatest thing that'll ever happen.

It is. They were right all along.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

After several pineapple flavoured cocktails and a taco or four, you and Bucky take a slow stroll home, hand in hand along the sidewalk.

"You wanna have a sleepover tonight?" you ask, digging your heels into the ground to stop yourself from skipping with glee.

"Can't think of anything I want more," he chuckles.

You walk a little while longer, content to bask in the comfortable silence.

"Guess what happened a few days ago."

"What, honey?"

"Stella asked me to be her business partner."

He stops where he is, turning to face you but never letting go of your hand.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhmmm."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I was unsure, at first. But I'm going to do it. I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. We had to take a business class in culinary school, and I actually learned a lot. I've had a business plan for the future of the café drafted up for months. Numbers, locations, investors, everything. I'm really serious about this, you know."

He's gazing at you like you hung the moon, eyes bright and adoring.

You sit down on a bench, looking out over the coastal path. Bucky joins you, arm heavy over your shoulders.

"I can't stay here."

His head whips around.

"Baby..."

"I mean it, Buck. I like this city, I do, but I just can't settle. It feels like a placeholder until I can go home. And it's not fair to Stella, if it feels like I'm half in half out."

He goes to speak, but you're on a roll.

"I'm suggesting that we franchise the business. It's the logical next step anyway, it was just a matter of choosing the right location. I'm proposing somewhere a hell of a lot closer to home. To you. To my parents. And that means we'll have one branch on the east coast, and one on the west. We can start filling the middle, in the future."

"Are you... are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything, James Buchanan Barnes. I wanna start my life with you. Telling my parents, building a house, furthering my career. I'm ready, now."

Bucky grabs your face in his warm hands, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. It's all the answer you need.

"I want you to read over my plan, when we get back to my place. But it's tight, Buck. I've been perfecting it for months. There's no way Stella can say no - I've made it so she won't want to. Besides, she just wants me to be happy. And this... this will make me happy. Happy beyond words."

Bucky stands up, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you with him. He spins you around, laughing when you squeal in surprise.

"I'm so proud of you, honey baby. I love you so much."

"I love you," you grin. "More than I ever thought possible."

Bucky practically carries you home, both of you giddy on excitement and hope.

You wake up tangled in his arms, sunlight beaming down onto your skin through the open window. Happiness, you think. It's finally here.

Happiness. It's finally here.

tag list part one -

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[youunravelme]

to all the girls you've loved before part 5

author's note: this might be the softest part out of all of them? sorry for the wait, i hope the fluff makes up for it. :)

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, very volatile/toxic relationship

day forty-four

"does this look okay?" mat popped his head in your room where you were sitting on your bed with a book in your lap.

"you look like you normally do."

he ran a hand down his face. "i mean, is it appropriate to wear to a doctor's appointment?"

oh shit.

you forgot.

you jumped off the bed and ran into the walk in closet.

"did you forget?" mat teased. any sign of insecurity at his outfit choice disappeared when you sprinted into the closet.

"would you believe me if i said no?"

he laughed. "not a chance." he cleared his throat. "let me go wake ella up and get her ready."

you pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater as well as thick socks and shoes. you walked out, nearly running into mat and ella in the hallway.

ella immediately perked up at seeing you and reached for you while mat rolled his eyes.

"can't believe she loves you more."

"i'm with her all day," you quipped. but the second the words left your mouth, you were backpedaling. "not to say that you're an absent father!" you amended. "i just mean that i live here and i take care of her when you're not here, so she sees me more and--"

mat's laughter cut you off. he placed a strong hand on your shoulder and squeezed. "i didn't take it that way, relax." and like nothing happened, he continued down the hall to the living room.

a sigh escaped your lips the second his touch was gone.

it was another ten minutes before the three of you left. originally, you were stunned that he asked you to join him in the first place, but when mat explained how confused he and tito were for that the first doctor's appointment, it made more sense.

everyone needed an emotional support friend.

you had a whole crew of them help move you out of your old apartment.

even the thought of that day made you want to tear up again. you'd never been one for having a large group of friends, usually just a close few. but after graduating college, after your school friends moved away from the city, somewhere along the way, you stopped picking up your phone to text them.

which was how you landed in your former apartment with natalie. she was a friend of a friend, and easy enough to live with.

until she fucked your boyfriend.

so when mat, tito, sydney, and marty all helped you move out? even after only knowing the latter two for less than twenty-four hours?

they put your old friends to shame.

"what's going on in that mind of yours?" mat asked. "you got quiet." you shrugged. "oh come on, you're thinking about something! i can see the wheels turning in your head."

"you sound like my mother."

mat guffawed and laughed at the same time in a sound that you wanted to commit to memory. "your mother? should i be offended?"

you smiled despite yourself. "she's alright."

"she must be if she raised you."

you crossed your arms. "you're such a flatterer."

"only for you."

you ignored the weird fluttering sensation in your gut and rolled your eyes. "wait till i tell tito that you like me more."

mat groaned and ran a hand over his mouth. "please don't, i get enough shit from him as it is."

interesting.

you turned in your seat to face him a little more. "and what shit would he be giving the great mathew barzal? spending too long on your hair? being too talented? having too many female fans?"

as you came to a stoplight, mat rubbed the back of his neck, looking increasingly more uncomfortable with your line of questioning. "not necessarily..." he trailed off.

but you ignored his signs of hesitancy and kept pressing on. "i bet it's about you being a dilf."

if the car was moving, you'd bet money that mat would've slammed on the brakes. but you were currently still sitting at the stoplight, so he just looked at you with an expression that boarded on shocked and horrified.

"a what?"

"surely, you know what a dilf is, mat."

he sputtered. "i mean i uh know what it is--"

"then why are you so flustered?" you asked, leaning on the center console.

"just wasn't expecting you to say that is all."

"i'm sure you and your teammates have said worse in the locker room."

"yeah but that's them and you're you and--" he cut himself off and chose to wave his hands in the air like that action alone would fill in the blanks.

"and what?"

mat accelerated as the light turned green. "i just didn't know you saw me that way."

you shrugged and sat back in your seat, ignoring the way your heart raced at the way the conversation took a turn. "don't tell me i'm the first person to say you're attractive, mat."

"well, no, but--"

"so what's the big deal? it's just me."

mat shrugged. "exactly. it's you."

you froze momentarily, but tried to brush his comment off like it didn't send a shiver down your spine.

the both of you were silent for the rest of the ride.

when you got to the doctor's office, both you and mat got out, with mat offering to carry ella into the building. though, the three of you made it twenty feet before ella was whining for you.

"my own child likes you more," he grumbled.

you just laughed.

the waiting room was semi full when the three of you walked in, but mat was the only dad in sight.

he leaned down towards you with a hand on the small of your back. "i'll go check us in if you'll find us a seat."

you did as he asked and ignored the way you could feel his touch long after he walked away. you and ella found a seat in a corner away from most of the women and children there. did you look antisocial? maybe just a little, but you weren't taking chances of ella or yourself getting sick, and you sure as hell weren't taking a chance on mat's health with the season in full swing.

"didn't want to sit with the other families?" mat asked as he took the seat next to you.

"i don't know those people, why would i sit next to them? they could be sick."

mat nodded along. "fair enough."

the three of you only waited a few minutes before ella's name was called. you stood up but it was mat who gestured for you to lead, again, with his hand on your back guiding you.

the nurse took a few vitals before taking the three of you back to the room. "the doctor will be with you shortly," she said before leaving you, mat, and ella alone.

it wasn't long before you heard another knock on the door and the doctor came in. she greeted the three of you before getting right down to business, directing you to place ella on the table.

doctor stevenson took ella's vitals while she wriggled around and reached for you and mat. "vitals look good," she said. "now she does need to have a few vaccines today..." the doctor kept talking but you were focused on mat.

specifically how all the color drained from his face.

you placed your hand on his back and directed him to one of the open chairs in the room, scared he might pass out if he stayed standing.

"is everything alright?" the doctor asked.

mat sat down and exhaled. "are you sure she has to get shots today?"

doctor stevenson's face looked grim. "do you not like needles or...?"

"i don't like seeing my daughter cry," he admitted.

"that's completely normal for parents," the doctor assured him. "if you'd like, you can stay out in the hall and we'll let you know when we're done. should only take a few minutes, if that."

you weren't listening to the doctor though, your eyes were focused on mat's face. a deep set frown worked its way onto his lips and you hated it. you reached out and touched his shoulder. "i can stay with her, if you don't wanna be in the room," you said.

his eyes met yours; for a man as confident as he was, you'd never seen him so hesitant. "last time she got shots, it about broke me."

"that's okay," you said. "i'll be here if you wanna step outside. i'll still be here if you wanna stay."

he nodded and stood up. for a second, you thought he'd make his way to the door, but he stood by the table and kissed the top of ella's head. "it's gonna be okay, ella bean," he mumbled.

doctor stevenson looked at you before pulling out the needles. you saw how mat kept eyeing them in the corner of his eye, but kept his focus on ella who was babbling like nothing was going on.

it took a few seconds after the first injection before the water works started. ella's cry sounded throughout the room but instead of looking at her, your eyes were focused on mat.

he was completely enraptured by ella, whispering soft things to her in an attempt to soothe her.

"it's okay, ella. dada's here," he whispered. "it's okay."

she kept crying despite the calm voice mat was using. she was twisting towards him and away from the doctor.

"just one more," doctor stevenson said. and in a minute, she was finished.

but ella wasn't.

the second the needle was pulled out and the band aids were placed, mat was picking ella up and cradling her to his chest. she wailed and wailed, only calming down when mat was bouncing her and speaking softly in her ear.

you halfway listened to doctor stevenson talk about what percentile of weight and height ella was in, half of your attention was focused on the gentle way mat was holding his daughter and how his arms, as strong as they were, protected his child from the big, bad, scary needles.

you were free to follow the nurse out the door to checkout. mat refused to let go of ella, so you were the one scheduling the next appointment and entering it into your shared google calendar.

ella was still hiccuping from the crying by the time the three of you got to the car. mat strapped her in while you got in the front seat and looked through the paperwork they gave you.

"everything look alright?" mat asked as he got in his seat and locked the doors.

"yeah, she's right as rain. i added the next appointment to our calendar."

mat hummed.

"what?" you asked.

"our calendar?"

"we share a calendar, mat. that was your idea, if you recall." you weren't about to be embarrassed about something he initiated. why would you? it's just a calendar, not something with an underlying meaning.

"i know," he smiled. "i just like the sound of it, is all." he put the car in reverse and placed his hand on your headrest.

"weirdo," you mumbled to compensate for the fact that you also liked referring to something as mundane as a calendar as ours.

mat scoffed. "i'm not the weirdo. you're the weirdo."

"oh please, i have an entire roster of your teammates that would say otherwise."

"you would trust their word over mine?"

you shrugged. "majority rules."

you didn't think someone could roll their eyes as hard as mat did in that moment.

the three of you got home a few minutes later. mat was in charge of getting ella while you grabbed his keys. you both waved to the doorman and headed up to your shared apartment.

god, you loved saying that more than you probably should.

"are you still going out with syd later?" mat called after you when you got into the apartment. you were headed back to your room while he was putting ella in the play pin.

you stripped out of your clothes and changed into something more comfortable. "yeah!" you called back, walking back down the hallway to the living room. "why?"

"tito and anders invited me out for drinks, so i'll need to find a babysitter."

"i can ask grace if she knows anyone--"

"don't. i'm the one who needs the sitter, it's my responsibility, not yours."

ella babbled in what you assumed was agreement.

later that day, you heard mat getting ready in his room while you got dressed in yours with ella playing on the floor with her toys. you weren't dressed in anything too fancy, just a nice black dress that had been sitting in the back of your old closet because your roommate said it was "too slutty for someone who has a boyfriend."

then she went and fucked your boyfriend, so you couldn't really say you gave a shit about her opinion anymore.

you strapped some heels on and gave yourself a once over in the mirror, fluffing your hair when it looked too flat. you scooped ella up and made a mental note to bring her toys out to her play pin later when you got back.

if you could even walk straight.

you weren't planning on getting shitfaced, but does anyone over the age of 23 ever plan on it?

you carried ella down the hallway and into the living room where mat sat on the couch on his phone with espn playing on the tv.

"i thought you'd eventually get tired of all the sports talk," you commented.

mat didn't even look up, he just liked a random person's photo. "it's nice background noise. besides, they're talking about sports other than just hockey."

"right." you walked in front of him to put ella in her play pin, your heels clicking on the hardwood. it wasn't until you turned around that you saw him staring. "what?"

mat cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "nothing! you just look...nice."

you smiled. "thank you! syd should be here any minute now. where did i put my phone..." your voice trailed off as you looked around for your cell phone.

"it's on the coffee table," mat said. and low and behold, it was. "do you have a coat? it's supposed to get cold tonight."

you nodded and headed to the coat closet beside the front door. you grabbed the black peacoat you had since college and tried to put it on before a pair of hands stopped you.

"let me help," was all mat said as he held the coat open for you. it took you a second to register what he was saying, he had to clear his throat to get you to snap back to reality.

"thanks," you said as you put your arms in the sleeves. your phone started ringing a second later, sydney's contact photo taking over your screen. "are you sure you don't want me to wait until she gets here?" you asked, talking about the babysitter. "i can help explain ella's routine!"

but mat rolled his eyes and herded you closer to the door. ""i'll be fine, go have fun!"

"if you need me, text me."

he gave you an award winning smile. "if you need me, call me."

you nodded and walked out, picking up the phone as mat locked the door behind you. "hey, i'm on my way down."

"great! i have an uber waiting for us."

you walked a little faster to the elevator, determined to not let the uber run up more money than was necessary, despite the fact that sydney was not strapped for cash.

you made it down quickly and without busting your ass on the polished floor.

sydney was waiting in a black suv like she was some government official in a marvel movie. she popped the back door open when she saw you and smiled. "you look fantastic!" she said once you got inside the vehicle.

you looked over her outfit which wasn't too dissimilar to yours, just not as revealing. "grace is joining us, hope that's okay!"

you nodded, vaguely recalling meeting anders' wife when jason had that meltdown in front of everyone.

not the best first impression, you hoped tonight would make her forget about that first night.

grace met you and sydney at a bar about twenty minutes away from yours and mat's apartment. she smiled as the two of you got out of the car, hugging you instead of shaking your proffered hand.

"it's great to see you again," she said. "you look fantastic."

"so do you!" you replied.

the three of you walked into the bar and were immediately greeted by loud music and an enormous crowd. you pushed your way through the people and ended up in front of the bar.

"get what you want!" sydney yelled over the music. "it's on me, tonight."

it didn't seem like a lot, but when you thought back to how jason and natalie both would conveniently go out with you on nights when they were broke, and then proceed to ask you to fund their near alcohol addiction? you were immensely grateful. if you were a pettier woman, you would've venmoed natalie and jason for the money they owe you in drinks alone.

but you were moving on, making peace with your new situation, your job, your new friends.

and mat.

you weren't sure what category to put him in yet.

"boss" seemed too professional. "friend" didn't seem heavy enough.

"what're you having?" the bartender's question snapped you out of your reflective moment. you gave him the order and watched as he started to make it.

your drink was in front of you after you waited for a few minutes. you sipped at it while walking to the table grace had picked out.

"so how's it going, living with mat?" grace asked as soon as you walked up.

you shrugged lightly. "not as bad as i thought it would be. i was expecting it to be awkward, but it's just been nice not to have to wake up as early to go to work."

sydney nodded. "matt told me barzy looks happier since you moved in."

"anders too," grace added. "my husband said he needs to 'meet this girl who has barzy smiling like a fool.'"

you flushed at their statements. "he's a good guy," was all you said.

sydney and grace were talking amongst themselves while you bopped your head to the music playing. you supped on your drink when a familiar head of hair caught you eye. it was followed by another familiar head of hair. you were squinting, trying to remember where you'd seen them before when they turned around your heart stopped.

jason and natalie.

you choked on your drink which caught sydney and grace's attention.

"are you okay?" sydney asked. she only grew more concerned when you threw your drink back, the alcohol barely burning your throat in comparison to the pain in your chest.

"i'm gonna get some shots," you said before stumbling to the bar. you ordered four shots of vodka and downed them all in succession at the bar top, and then doing your best to get back to the table afterwards.

your heart was pounding as you saw them cozied up in a booth. you wanted to vomit. you wanted to cry. you wanted to go over there and pour their drinks on their heads.

but mostly, you just wanted to go home.

but you couldn't. not when the night was still young. not when you were still feeling sober. you'd stupidly thought that the four shots would get you drunk quickly because you forgot that metabolisms exist.

you did your best to keep up with the conversation grace and sydney were having, and it was clear they were trying to include you. but your gaze kept drifting to how happy jason and natalie looked. and wondering how long they'd gone on dates when you were busy working, how many times did the sleep together before you caught them? you wondered if they were in love? or if it was just lust.

you wondered what made you so unloveable that he'd cheat on you. you wondered how despicable of a person you were that your roommate would agree to it.

you weren't drunk enough for this.

you excused yourself from the table again to get another drink. as you waited, you tapped your fingers on the bar, humming to the top 40s playlist playing over the speakers.

"can i get a jack and coke?" that voice sent a shiver down your spine in the worst way. you hesitantly turned your head and saw jason standing next to you, thankfully with natalie nowhere in sight. you didn't know what you'd do if they were both there with you in that moment.

he must've felt your stare because he turned his head and made eye contact. his jaw clenched a little before his lips curved into a sly smirk. "well look what the cat dragged out," he said. "where is he?"

you blinked.

"c'mon. like you don't know who i'm talking about?" when you didn't say anything, he rolled his eyes. "barzal. where is he?" jason glanced around the bar. "because i don't see him anywhere."

"why would he be here? mat's not my boyfriend."

"right, he's just letting you stay with him for free because he's such a good person," he teased.

maybe it was the shot placed in front of you. maybe it was the other four shots kicking in. but you downed the drink, wiped your mouth and shot back at him. "he's a better person than you could ever hope to be."

"he'll get bored of you eventually. people always do," jason scoffed. "you're his nanny, for fuck's sake. if you're not fucking him, he'll realize he could get better pussy and a better looking face from literally any other girl in new york. and once he realizes that, you'll be homeless and jobless."

you shook your head, willing the stinging in your eyes to go away. "he's not like you, jason."

"he's not gonna fall in love with you. you're a no good bitch who didn't know what she had when she had it. and i'm glad we're done, natalie is a thousand times more interesting than you could ever hope to be." with that, he turned on his heel with his shitty drink and walked back to his booth.

you walked back to your table but before you could even register the water running down your face, sydney was pulling you into her arms as you sobbed.

"sweetheart what's wrong?"

you could barely get the words out to tell her, but as soon as you did, she was pulling you back and looking you in the eyes. "i'm gonna call mat, is that okay?"

"please call him," you said. sydney brought you back into her chest with one arm while her other hand dialed mat.

"mat! hey!" she said with an overly cheery voice. "are you busy?"

just the sound of his voice, even if it was sounded like a small whisper, made you feel a little safer. she continued to talk to him through the phone until she hung up and hugged you tighter.

"he'll be here soon and take you home, okay?"

you nodded into her shoulder and cried a little more. "i'm sorry for ruining your night."

sydney squeezed you a little closer. "it's not your fault. your ex is a piece of shit."

mat must've texted syd a few minutes later because she was ushering you out of the bar to stand on the sidewalk.

it was a matter of seconds before mat pulled up and hopped out of his car looking like a man on a mission. in a blink of an eye you were being pulled out of sydney's arms (or maybe she was pushing you) and into his.

you could've sworn your life made a little more sense right then and there.

"mat--" you sobbed. "i--i can't--" and to be honest, you weren't quite sure what you meant to say, words weren't stringing themselves together like they usually do. maybe you were trying to say you couldn't keep doing this, or that you couldn't understand why he still kept you around.

it could be a million things.

but he kissed the top of your head and your brain was silenced. "let's get you home, okay?"

mat put you in the car and held your hand the entire way home, stroking his thumb on the back of your hand in a way jason never did.

jason.

you wanted to vomit but the interior of mat's car was too nice and he already ditched his friends for you, the least you could do was keep it together.

"do you wanna talk about it?" he asked.

you shook your head no, so he squeezed your hand.

when you finally got back to the apartment, you stood in the living room in a catatonic state while mat paid the babysitter and ushered her out. the second the front door closed, he was by your side, taking your hand, and leading you to the bathroom where he turned on the shower. when he made a move to leave, you grabbed his hand.

"i'm just gonna grab you some clothes, i'll be right back."

he was back in thirty seconds with one of his shirts and a pair of sweats. you were brought back to the first night you slept over after your relationship blew up. you should've smiled and said thank you, you should've said you appreciated all mat had done.

but you just burst into more tears.

mat knelt in front of you, wiping the tears as fast as they came. "hey, what's wrong?"

before you could even stop and think, you were launching yourself into his arms and wrapping your own around his shoulders. he didn't even hesitate to hold you back as tightly as he could.

"you're okay," he said. "i'll be right outside when you're done, alright?"

you nodded against his shoulder and hesitantly pulled away. mat seemed just as reluctant to let you go, but the steam fogging the mirror reminded you both that there was a line you hadn't (and maybe shouldn't) cross.

mat shut the bathroom door behind him and you stripped out of your clothes.

it was the fastest shower you'd ever taken in your life.

true to his word, mat was outside the bathroom door when you were finished in a set of sweats he wasn't wearing before. he looked up from his phone and held his arms out, and for what felt like the fiftieth time (though that still did not feel like enough), you were in his arms again.

"let's get you to bed," he mumbled into your hair before placing another kiss there.

before you could stop yourself, you mumbled back. "can i sleep with you tonight?"

mat froze.

hell, you froze.

neither of you knew what to do.

but a minute later he was pulling away. you felt the tears well up in your eyes at the thought of him rejecting you, but what did you honestly expect? him to say yes? you moved to go down the hall to your room, but his grip on your hand stopped you.

"c'mon," was all he said.

up until this moment, you'd never been in mat's room. it was about what you expected, king bed in the middle of the room, a dresser, a few clothes strewn about. it looked lived in.

mat got in the bed first and extended his arms to you. it was like he was the center of the earth, pulling you in with such a strong gravitational pull, you stood no chance to resist it.

you were curled up against his chest a beat later.

"thank you," you said.

"anytime," he said against your hair.

your head was placed right over his chest where his heart beat loudly. the sound of it began lulling you to sleep.

it should've been a picturesque moment, but it was tainted by the lingering anxiety in the back of your mind.

was jason right? was this a bad decision? would mat kick you out if you never have sex with him? would he kick you out if you did?

but then mat started running a hand over your hair and down your back repeatedly, and all your worries disappeared.

you'd have more time to think about that tomorrow.

taglist:

@nicoleloveshockey @thg02 @fallinallincurls @bbbbruins @random-readers-world @sydsxoxo @jhughesy @whenmypartysover @sunflowerhood @spencereidbasis @icanfsplel @avareadsthings @zegraswrites @matthewkniesys @heyitsmeimdead @kashee-h @bordelhoe @diary-of-jj @literatureluster @dani746

[glikeriya-narkevich]

I will now express only my personal opinion. I think the problem for some MK fans is that there is no reimagining of their favourite characters in the "new era". In the "new era" there is a mixing of the identities of the old original characters with their new versions. And the whole thing reminds me of some kind of soup. For example, fans of the original Kuai Liang had it the worst. They've essentially lost their favourite character forever. Kuai Liang is not currently in the game. After all, it's easy to guess Hanzo Hasashi in Kuai Liang Scorpion, who has the weak traits of the original Kuai Liang. I even foresee him having a son in the future. Yes, it hurts fans of the original Kuai Liang to lose their favorite character. They have every right to be upset and angry about this situation on their personal blogs. Something they have loved dearly for many years has been taken away from them. I love the original Kuai Liang too, I miss him a lot in the game, I really miss him.

But I, as a Bi-Han fan first and foremost, am just as hurt and offended. After all, in the "new era" Bi-Han was given part of the original Sektor's personality, and another part was left over from the original Bi-Han. It's not something new, it's not a reinterpretation of the character's old personality, no, it's some kind of hybrid. It's mixing various fragments of the old canon into one big pile that's been labelled "new era". I'm not against something completely new. I'm not against reinterpretation. For example, the reimagining of tarkatans in the game is quite interesting and I liked it. Baraka became much deeper and more multifaceted as a character. He was given an interesting and tragic past. Baraka's prosperous past became tragic due to his tarkat disease.

At one point, it even seemed to me that Bi-Han's and Kuai Liang's father could become a Noob Saibot. This would have kept Bi-Han from becoming an "absolute evil" and at the same time it would have hit hard on Kuai Liang's almost religious adoration of his father. Thus, Kuai Liang Scorpion would have become deeper and more interesting as a character, and his conflict with Bi-Han would have become more intense and tragic. It would also explain why Liu Kang allowed Bi-Han to become the Grandmaster of the clan that was the protector of the Earthrealm, because Liu Kang can't help but know that Bi-Han let his father die.

But overall, I think the "new era" was only needed because the old story had reached an absolute creative dead end, from which there was no way out but to erase everything and start over with something completely different, but in a similar shell. I don't think everyone was expecting a copy of the old storyline, but it could have been continued and developed if the original story hadn't reached an absolute dead end. Now the whole multiverse mess has started, where there are thousands of versions of the same character. Change for the sake of change itself, when it doesn't make any sense for the plot or reinterpretation, is bad, very bad from a literary point of view. For example, a sex change for Cyrax. If Cyrax had remained a man as in the original canon, then nothing would have changed in the game, absolutely. They didn't explain to us why the character's gender change was needed. This sex change makes no artistic sense, it doesn't change anything in the story.

Yes, the characters belong to the authors. Authors are free to do whatever they want with their characters: kill them, change their fate as they wish. Authors may not listen to fan opinion. But to be honest, it's not today's writer who came up with all these characters, in fact, the characters don't belong to today's team of game creators. These characters were given to the writer for dressing up, figuratively speaking, like expensive antique dolls, and he updated them not only with clothes, but changed their hair colour and length; eye colour, gender, etc. What's left of the original dolls that someone else made many years ago? So I completely understand the suffering of the fans of these characters. I myself consider myself affected by the latest DLC, because the old canon is very dear to me.

I didn't want to see Bi-Han accept his evil Noob Saibot identity by being in Bi-Han's mind, because the original Bi-Han never wanted to be Noob Saibot, but he couldn't stop being one because he lost his mind forever and lost the bright spots of goodness in his dark and tortured soul. So I'm just ignoring this DLC. My favourite characters are essentially gone, what's left are their names and the characters themselves have become strangers to me, but I still try to love them. I don't give up trying to take them into my heart. I'm getting to know them all over again.

[bolognamayhem117]

Title: "Looking at Something?"

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Astarion/M!Tav, elf/elf, paladin/rogue

POV: Tav(Rorik)

Themes: Aggressive flirting, praise kink (if you turn your head and squint), safe for work, mild angst, retconned Canon Dialog.

Warnings: trauma, manipulation, anger, neck wounds, alludes to distant past and recent abuse.

Author's Notes: First and foremost a disclaimer, I created this character on my first playthrough after Robert and I bought the game a year ago. I picked up the controller with zero knowledge of the game's contents after being told you could play as a vampire. I said "That's bold of the developer, fuck it, I'll make Rorik's dumb ass and smeagol my way through the forgotten realms or whatever..." Turns out the person who told me that was referencing the Astarion Origin playthrough. I said "Screw It I'm Doing It Anyway! With the power of IMAGINATION." To my delight and surprise it really wasn't all that hard to use paladin spells, items, scroll hoarding, and armor to very closely model the homebrew build of Rorik the Degenerate Dhampir Sun Worshipping Paladin. He has his own issues which this ficlet hints at. He's cringe, be gentle.

Fic Summary: Astarion is looking for reassurance or praise or... Something, and then the writer remembered they used the intelligence as a dump stat to boost their Tav's charisma and rolled with it. Mentions a friend's character. I only barely proofread so consider this your warning.

Tagged at request: @ghostkingart

“Looking at something?” Astarion addressed Rorik when the paladin passed behind him and paused.

Rorik was tired, he'd stopped on his way back from a piss because something wasn't right. He’d been too beaten by the beasts of the underdark to process the scene before him for its absurdity. The vampire spawn was holding a hand mirror, scowling into it as if scorn might make his reflection appear in its smooth glitter.

The high elf angled the mirror in such a way that Rorik could see himself. Did he always look so serious? Yet disinterested? Rorik seldom sought his reflection, it wasn't a countenance he wanted to face.

“Just looking. What are you doing?”

“I'm looking too, but not seeing very much” Astarion told Rorik almost softly, sadly. “Another quirk of my affliction.” he spat the last word as if it tasted rancid, eyes dark and lips cutting a sour pout.

Rorik had heard these sorrow-songs many times in his homeland and beyond. He was no stranger to this agony, but it never got easier to hear it, even from a spawn he hardly knew, harboring a strain of the cursed malady he was not so familiar with. It seemedthat no matter the variant, it affects one's reflection in glass treated with a paper thin veneer of silver.

Rorik played the fool, wrong as it felt to pretend he needed to ask questions in order to guess how Astarion might feel about not having seen himself in centuries.

“Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?”

“Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity?!” He bordered on sounding offended, but his expression shifted with the same flippancy as his whims. Sometimes Rorik wondered if Astarion was making himself hard to read on purpose. Now, with a short but heavy pause, he went on with a longing about the droop of his shoulders and the way he looked at the other man, perhaps with jealousy. “Of course I do…”

He continued.

“I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and its eyes turned red.” And then, those scarlet eyes plunged back into darkness with his last syllables. His seething glare burned as hot as the Sun's love burned his vampiric skin in the day, before the illithid worm at least.

Rorik tried a question he'd heard many times before, sometimes even directed at himself. It might keep him talking. “What color were they before?”

“I... I don't know. I can't remember.” His glare softened with something that half revealed him, but the outraged anguish returned to him, as it tends to do. “My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I've lost.”

Astarion threw down the mirror as he finished, it cracked as it struck the packed earth beneath them. If they were standing in a proper room of wooden or brick floor then the mirror would have shattered in a spectacular fashion.

Spiteing the fact that Astarion needn't air to live, he drew pants of heavy breath as he bared his teeth in his anger. He had every right to be angered, all spawn do.

Patience, Rorik reminded himself. As much as it went against his instincts to stick around within range of teeth while their owner bobbed between drowning in their own righteous fury and the oblivion of sorrow, there was always something about Astarion which lured him in. Rorik could still look at himself in a mirror, most of the time, and he thought maybe the reason he hadn't yet walked away from Astarion while he tantrumed about his past, present or Casador might just be because: he could see his reflection in Astarian, too. His pain felt all too familiar.

“What?” Astarian broke him from his thoughts.

Rorik corrected quickly, unsure what his own expression had revealed. He straightened a head that had tilted toward his left shoulder, fixed his eyes which he guessed had softened upon Astarian’s anger on base instinct. Too close. He'd almost fallen victim to his old habits, but Astarian was no flailing racer stallion who required the softness of a coddling stable pony to calm him. And Rorik was nobody's pony anymore.

“I'll be your mirror. What do you want to know?” It was a cheap distraction, yes, but he found in it genuine empathy. Astarian couldn't see himself, hadn't seen himself in two-hundred years, he deserved the next best thing.

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. What you see.” Astarian replied with another reflection, this time of Rorik’s own sincerity.

The deferring tipping of Astarian's head told it all. A wound had been bared for Rorik to examine, one he could grind salt into and Astarian knew that. It was the scattered moments of vulnerability that helped Rorik stay, too.

He feigned a smile just in time, before his silence convinced Astarion that something was wrong. The others' brows were already creased as he braced to be hurt.

“Well, the shmutz of bullette viscera smeared on your left cheek has my attention right now.” Rorik jabbed casually.

Astarion scrubbed his wrist over his face with an irritable grimace, following Rorik's gesture to find the supposed smear of gore, only to find nothing because Rorik was having a little fun at his expense. Astarion was fastidious in his grooming. He’d missed nothing when he'd washed.

Rorik was rewarded with a glare, so he laughed, “If I didn't like you, I wouldn't jest… I'm not a poet, I'm not romantic by any stretch of the imagination, and I don't do flattery. So brace yourself.”

“Oh.. Kay…?” Astarion murmured.

Rorik straightened his posture to look Astarion from the toe of each tidy elvish crafted loafer up to the top most curl of his head of white silver. Consciously taking him in only topically.

“If I were unbiased and this were my first impression: Your face is long but not overly narrow. Your nose is very straight, cutting a tidy profile. I imagine you've never had it broken. The fairness of your skin hints at a noble upbringing; a childhood spent indoors rather than under the gaze of the noon sun. Your hands are clean and unmarred, so for certain you're not a laborer. You are clearly particular about how your hair is done every morning… Your jaw is angled sharply toward your chin but is neither too strong nor too weak. It suits you well. Your lips are full which reinforces an air of youth about you, and your upper lip is just a bit thicker than the lower without being distracting… About five foot and eleven inches, shoulders broad enough to mandate care toward them when having garments tailored… In all, The world sees a young elf.”

Rorik bit the end of his tongue as he finished, holding back the last and decidedly biased thought: that he saw all these things too but accompanied by eyes which looked as tired as he often felt himself.

Astarion's expression was empty yet soft, gaze drifting into the middle distance until the very end when his brows furrowed and his mouth twisted as if something had curdled in it.

“Eugh! Must you always make everything sound so clinical!? You told Edmund this morning the cactus where your heart should be has beautiful flowers and that was backhanded!” Astarion mocked Rorik's northerner accent, badly, “I know you can do better than that. Ugh, for shits’ sake, why do you find me attractive? Why does anyone find me attractive, Rorik?”

That took Rorik off guard. This wasn't just about forgetting one's own appearance, was it? It was about Astarion understanding how the world was affected by his body being in it. Rorik shifted in discomfort, now put on the spot to summarize the things he personally found alluring. He felt almost dirty saying it.

“I- suppose people can't help themselves but to admire? You're striking. Perfectly styled snow hair, you're well formed… Em, lovely skin? like opal? White opal. Were you true symmetrical I would've drawn my sword, having mistook you for a stone wit-”

“I- I'm not symmetric?? Where is my face uneven!? Tell me this instant!” The high elf squawked, hands smoothing up the planes and dips of his visage in search.

Rorik snorted. Astarion seemed like the type to become offended at the mention of a slightly uneven cupid’s bow. Best not add to his self image anxieties too much. A true lie would have to do.

“You have a freckle or two, perhaps from your recent love affair with the sun.”

“Freckles?!”

“Oh, relax. Not near as many as me.” Rorik reassured.

“Hmph. That was… Better-ish, I suppose. You're onto something, keep going.”

Rorik's expression pinched with realization. “Is that all you're after? Shallow praise?”

“Hardly! I'm also after gold, sex, revenge. Quite the list, really, and failing any of those I will always settle for: shallow praise.”

“Fuck that noise. I can do better than patting your ass with a couple cheap compliments.”

“Care to expand on that? I can't tell if I'm being derided or offered an upgrade from your awkward small talk.” Astarion harrumphed and began picking under his fingernails, apparently checking out of the conversation in a display of boredom.

Rorik stepped closer to recapture his attention, spurred forward by a volatile cocktail of embarrassment, ego, and vindictiveness that had spilled in close proximity to the competitive streak within him.

“I used to be good at this. I swear. You'll just have to be patient while I call it back to me.” Rorik leveled in a low rumble, and it was no bluff. Idle worship of a bloated ego had saved his skin in his youth more times than he could count. This bordered too close to an exhumation of the corpse of his past, but if the occasion calls for it in the name of harmless fun: then let old habits lumber about like a fucking zombie.

Astarion's eyes lit themselves with dark amusement, leaning in too with a smug sneer, “Call louder. I think it ran straight past you.”

Rorik wasted no breath on the others' taunting. He delivered. “Your eyes are extraordinary, they burn through people like a branding iron. I'd rather face a devil I’d sleighted.”

Astarion let loose the bark and giggle of laughter which used to grate on Rorik's nerves, “Oh, not bad… and you said you don't do flattery! Do go on.”

That's one point to Rorik. He wanted more than that. He wanted to win whatever this was. “They have their moments of immeasurably inviting softness, too. Eyes like yours tend to get their way with me, if I'm being honest… And don't let that go to your head.”

“Ha! Hard not to. That's a dangerous admission.” Astarion swayed his shoulders and hummed with an odd, rich texture in his voice. His expression was guarded, however.

“Awareness of one's weaknesses is healthy, I'm told..” Rorik commented rather pointlessly. Choosing pretty analogies for the features of a face he found attractive felt more risky than it should. Rorik's jaw and throat felt hot for no particular reason. “Moving on. Your smile is deadly. Like a bear trap lined with sweet meats and candied fruit. A pout, a grin, a laugh, they all draw me closer…”

Closer. Astarion must've taken the utterance of the word as an invitation. He brandished that smile like a blade now and brought them near nose to nose. “Yes, yes. You're right. But we know better, don't we, Rorik?”

Not fair. Rorik’s naked skull felt like it was on fire, and the feeling was not limited to neck and up.

“We do. You can't lure bats with candy in pretty wrappers.” he tilted his head with his words, ever so minutely, exposing the angry punctures in his throat.

“If it isn't the sweet taste that draws you in, then what is it? Tell me Acolyte.”

Rorik shook his head. “You know I'm a masochist. You know the answer to that.”

“Aw, Little Treat longs to be trapped? How delightfully demented.”

“Mm,” Rorik offered a solemn nod. It was another admission of those dirty weaknesses. “Last thing for now-”

“For now?” Astarion crooned, grinning wickedly as he underlined Rorik's implication that he may have more to say on this particular topic at a later date.

“For now,” Rorik confirmed but teased… Teasing? He'd never teased like this, in this context, before. Best end on a note of humor, “Speaking of teeth, you've the most polite little feedin’ fangs.”

“...What?” Astarion straightened then and leaned away.

Rorik must've thrown him off his rhythm with that one. Right. Astarion was from a small coven, and apparently not one which enjoyed the bleak humors of the condition.

Rorik leaned minutely closer and bared his razors in a grimace with a finger directing attention to them. “I'm saying, your teeth look almost normal. At least compared to these lawn shears I was saddled with. Your smile is still sharp, but passable. Many with the condition aren't so lucky.”

“Good to know I'm not a complete freak.” Astarion harrumphed.

“Maybe I crossed the line. I forget, not everyone reconciles it all so easily.” Rorik admitted, but refused to backpedal that last opinion.

“I suppose I can give you a pass on it, given that you were born with… All of that.” Astarion gave a waving finger gesturing to all of Rorik as he half-accepted the half-apology.

Rorik couldn't help but chuckle and look away, the imagery brought to mind was too heinous and ridiculous all at once. “Well, I was indistinguishable from the living until I consumed blood at fifteen-ish but, sure. I wasn't bottle fed monk blood as a tot. Couldn't imagine that horror.”

"Normal children are horrible enough… Now, why don't you just tell me I'm beautiful and we'll call it an evening.” Astarion shifted the topic smartly, but looked away for a moment too.

The dance was strange. Rorik wasn't sure what they were doing, but he sort of liked it.

“You're alright, Gale is more my type.” Rorik lied, blatantly.

“How dare you!” Astarion's tone was playful, rather than offended, although it's always hard to tell with Astarion, “I thought we had something special… Still, you're nice too. I’d better get some beauty sleep. It seems I need it if I'm to catch up with the competition.”

Rorik could only shake his head. Everyone has a type. Astarion's was apparently fractured faces and a malignant glare. Rainar's glare. Rorik quickly tossed aside the errant thought and the accompanying cruel memory. He dipped his head before deciding to attend his own sleep.

“Sure sure, but do tread with caution. The pursuit of perfection is perilous, and you're already knocking on the door.” Rorik offered with a smirk. This game was… fun.

“Hhmf! Says he's not romantic,” Astarion mocked talking to himself, shooting a dark glance and that dangerous smile over his shoulder as Rorik retreated to his bedroll by the fire.

[mybeautifulreina]

The Ring

During season 1, as the brothers and Mc grow closer, they develop their feeling for Mc, but alas, they notice that there is a ring decorating Mc's ring finger. In this post, there will be only the old brothers (sorry my reader, my brain can only think about the old brothers). a bit spoiler season 1 for Lucifer and Mammon.

Author notes: Sorry for the gender, but for this post, the Mc will be F!Mc. I have never met any men who wear rings for fun except married men and Mammon.

Lucifer ~did the avatar of pride fall in love with a mere human? ~he is ~you're just an annoying human that joins his brother's shenanigans ~thinking that you're his new source of headache ~your chaos makes his family back together not only physically, but as a real family ~your presence does make him feel at ease, which he crave a long time ago ~he happens to see that there is a ring wrapped around your ring finger ~he does not recall anything in your application that you're engaged to someone ~as he says himself, "demons can't resist something they desire" ~he is a demon ~and you're a 'something' that he desires ~he wants to ask you about the ring, so he waiting for the right time ~and the right time comes for him There is only you and him in his study room. He stares at your ring finger and notices that you're not wearing the ring. "I noticed that you didn't wear your ring for today, Mc" "Oh, I usually wear the ring only when I go out, like when I go to class or hang out with friends or anything that make me need to get out from the HOL," "So you're not engaged with someone?" Lucifer's eyebrow knit in confusion. "Some women like me, myself, think of the ring as one of the accessories and also want to chase off some of the pervert men who come near me," you laugh when you see Lucifer's expression. Even though it's kinda weird for a human to do something like that, it is, effective……, wait. You said that wearing a ring was one of the ways to repel some perverted men. Did you think all of them are perverts, including himself? A bit offended, but never say it out loud. He gets really good information where everyone thinks that you're engaged to someone, but you don't. When he is alone, he tries to claim you as his discreetly, but he doesn't know how. He better makes some moves before this information spread to other demons. There is an idea that pops out of this demon's head. Diavolo's birthday is just around the corner, and all of his brothers agreed to give you a present. He indeed gives you a brooch as his present, but there is another present he wants to give to you when both of you are alone. Lucifer request that your presence in his study room is needed after Diavolo's birthday party end. Hearing a soft knock on his door, Lucifer lets you in. Your face shows that you're tired. "Sorry for the late request, Mc. I appreciate that you're willing to indulge my selfish wish. I'm gonna make it short since you're tired from the party. Here, there is another present for you. I know that I already gave it to you at Diavolo's birthday party, but take this present as a…. token of thanks from me to you," Lucifer put the ring box into your hand. You try to tease him but remember how he will deny that and take it as offensive, you didn't utter some words to The Avatar Of Pride. The day goes by as usual after that moment while counting down to the day your return to your original realm. Lucifer notice that you're wearing the ring that he gave to you after Diavolo's birthday party. Not gonna lie, it kinda strokes his ego a bit. It feels like you're his even though both of you are not a couple yet. He is still working for it, but surely you will be his for eternity.

Mammon After the TSL competition with Leviathan, your wrist hurt, so Mammon wrapped the bandage around your wrist to secure the wound. "Hey human, did you engage with some other human?" Mammon holding your hand and staring at your ring finger. You tell him that some humans wear rings as an accessory or just to chase off some of the men so that you're having a peaceful life. Well, now you're not when you're living with 7 lords of hell. Mammon releases your hand and takes one of his rings from his finger and slips it onto your other ring finger. You look at him with confusion meanwhile, Beelzebub has just…. been there and speechless with Mammon's sudden action. "It looks better than I thought! Ya better keep my ring safe. If ya don't, then ya should buy The Great Mammnon the new exact ring for me," Mammon can't stop admiring his ring decorating your ring finger.

Leviathan Both of you attending one of the anime festivals that happen at the Devildom. As both of you walk across the booth, you suddenly encounter your comfort character and you ask Leviathan to take a photo of you and your comfort character. Oh boy, The Avatar of Envy already envies a piece of printed cardboard. As he focuses your phone camera, Leviathan notices that there is something wrapped around your ring finger. Leviathan tries to zoom at your hand, he notices that you're wearing a ring. Jealousy was too damn freaking high.

From that moment, his sin was unlimited and his envy shows in his personality (you know like a lot of sighs and what so ever this snake does when he is jealous every time he looks at your ring finger).

You ask him why he is suddenly in the bad mood. Leviathan then point to the ring that you are wearing. You laugh then explain to Leviathan why you are wearing the ring. During the festival, Leviathan bought a pair of Hana Ruri theme rings. One of them for you and another one for him. He feels that he is so good, but at the same time feels shy when you show off the ring that Leviathan gave him to you.

[shiraglassman]

Hey, I know this is kind of a dumb question, but I came across a TikTok about a month ago suggesting that dragons (the western, fire breathing, princess snatching, treasure hoarding ones) were rooted in antisemitic in the same way something like goblins are. I couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, and it kind of sent me into a tailspin, since I’ve always loved dragons (I read the WoF series ONCE and wouldn’t shut up about it for 3 years), and I was worried that I would have to drop them entirely for fear of offending someone. I can definitely see the similarities between common antisemitic tropes and dragon tropes, but I’ve always heard that the origins of the western dragon were that it was just a scalier of the devil and not meant to represent any marginalized community. However, I am not Jewish in any way, and I’m aware it’s not my place to dictate what is and isn’t harmful, so I was curious as to what you thought. (Sorry about how long this is TuT)

I held on to this ask for a few weeks to try to make sure my response made sense, so here goes. Disclaimer that I'm just one Jewish woman who loves dragons, and I claim no expertise or position of authority. I can't guarantee that someone won't look at your special interests and judge you unfairly. I also can't guarantee that you'll be hyperaware enough and careful enough to catch dogwhistles if they're subtle, compared with ordinary fictional dragons. What I can guarantee is that your average Jewish person is not going to assume you are more unsafe to be around than other unknown gentiles just because you like dragons, but fandom spaces and Tumblr spaces sometimes represent a skewed or specific cross-section of the population and may react differently. I can't make any of those calls. I don't want to tell you to start tuning out marginalized people when we speak about our issues including bad representation, but I also don't think "every Western dragon" is a problem the same way the entire perception of Halloween witches is, for example. For "some reason" (antisemitism) we've decided that big hooked noses are a thing you strap to your face to fake being a witch, or the way witches look in clip art. This is an issue because it takes a simple, neutral feature that some of us have and exaggerates it to the point of looking nonhuman. "Ha ha," says the trope. "Wouldn't it be funny if this trait that these Others have was so different and so jarring in appearance that they looked as different as they truly are, from us, the In Group?"

If the same group of folks who had anxiety about us coexisting alongside them created the witch aesthetic as created the Western dragon lore, and indeed much of old-fashioned European fantasy, it's easy to see how their feelings about us an other marginalized groups (disabled people etc.) creep into the stories. HOWEVER, it's also incredibly easy for dragons to not be us. Or have anything to do with us. If you're nervous when writing your own stories that someone is going to mistake your greedy characters for Jewish-coded, try to establish that real (human or otherwise) Jewish characters coexist with the greedy dragon or whatever to show that you're not using the dragon as a subconscious Jewish reference. But if you're talking about just "can I continue to buy dragon merch from creators who draw cute art", the only thing I can tell you is that there's an intense diversity of opinion among the Jewish people and even though I'm saying it's fine and probably most people at my temple would say it's fine, I can't account for strangers on apps I don't even have. Personally, I think you're safe as long as you avoid dragon things that evoke the trope directly. And many MANY dragons don't even evoke the trope these days, because so many millennials and younger grew up adoring dragons so we launched media where dragons are good. And don't even always hoard wealth. Much of modern dragon media seems to ignore the greedy and/or hoarding tropes entirely or have replaced greed as a motivator for the collections with "this dragon has a special interest", which is cute and doesn't evoke antisemitic tropes at all. You'll probably be able to make good judgments about what does the trope and what doesn't, but for some additional help here is a post Meir and I did on @writingwithcolor, which is where we'd prefer these questions be directed (yes, I know we're closed currently but we're reopening soon.) P.S. If this was sent to my personal specifically to avoid the WWC ask box being closed, please don't — that's an amount of volunteer work I simply can't take on. But I also know that it's possible and likely that you didn't know about WWC at all, so now you do — feel free to peruse our vast archives of past posts. @im-tired1124

[charlie-lec-stories]

Dirty Little Secret - Part 4: Forgiveness // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character

Series Summary: Charles' wife went to The Other Side and came back, but her past did too.

Chapter Summary: Charles follows his wife and Max to the woods in Roosteren, where they wish to finally find Maud.

Series Warnings: Death, descriptions of CPR and a car crash, sexual comments and implied sexual acts, mentions of blood, mentions of suicide and depression.

Author’s Note: This is a special I decided to write inspired by Halloween and the Qatar GP, it's five parts long. It's the first time I write something for this page instead of editing thing I have written before, I hope you guys like it. Rate: +16 (descriptions of medical procedures).

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"No, this is nuts". Max said, shaking his head furiously. "We're not going, we promised it was the last time!"

"Don't you get it?! She's asking for out help!". Y/N yelled back at Max moving her hands around to bring more emphasis into her comment. Charles was just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything. His wife had just told him that she spent a decade traveling back home with her best friend to camp in the woods and look for the body of a childhood friend. And now she wanted to do it again because she had been seeing... The ghost of that friend? Was that what she said? The ghost?... what the actual fuck. He couldn't help but prefer the option of her cheating on him with Max, is sounded less crazy. "We gave up, Max! We gave up on her and now she wants us to keep looking! We know that she's there, everyone used to go there. If something happened, she obviously ran there! We just need to keep looking".

"You're hallucinating, Y/N! You're probably suffering from late brain damage!". Max was just about to explode and Charles could see it. "We need to take you to the doctor! You're not making any sense. You know that going back madness".

"Charles believes me!". She defended, and her husband snapped his head towards her with an almost neck-breaking force, his eyes wide open. "Don't you, babe?"

"Uhmm...". His silence and hesitation were divorce-worthy, he could see the pain in his wife's eyes and he didn't have the heart to call her crazy. "Yeah, uhmm, of course". Max pulled off his own hair, exasperatedly. "I believe you, mon amour".

"For fuck's sake, Leclerc! You're such a-". Max cut himself off before he could say something actually offensive. "She's hurt, Charles. And even if she wasn't, I can't go and help her!". He then added a lot calmer and pointed at his legs, still weak from the accident.

"I'll go with you and help you search". Charles knew that it was a terrible idea, but he had already said that he believed Y/N and he couldn't back down. Together in sickness and health, right?

"It's too dangerous. It took us our whole lives to get to know our way through there enough for us to be safe". Max shook his head. "We're not taking you there, Charles".

"I'm not a kid, Max". Charles retorted offended. "I can go with you and be careful, you two have been walking around those woods since you were teenagers. I can do it as an adult".

"I know that we agreed on stopping". Y/N said sounding a lot more like her old self. "I know that we said we'd stop because it hurts you, because you need to move on, Max". Max was crying again. He couldn't do this all over again. He needed to stop. "But you know I'm not hallucinating. You know that what I see is real. She's calling me back there. She's calling US, Max, and we need to answer ".

There were perks in Max owning a private jet, one of those was flying from one place to the other without bringing too much attention to themselves. Max had even learned how to fly it and had his license that allowed him to go wherever he wanted. However, Max choose to get a pilot this time, there was a lot of planning they needed to do and they couldn't risk it getting recorded on the black box. It was ilegal to camp on those woods, it wasn't the first time that someone had disappeared on Roosteren and the police didn't want the kids of the town lurking around in the dark. Max and Y/N paid a large amount of money to bribe the Chief of Police each year and make him look the other way. They were probably paying doble to bring Charles in with them, but they didn't care, they'd spend the money they had to. The plan was simple, yet, it required their absolute focus on each part to secure a win. Woods are usually just plants, insects and the lonely furry predator you can find, they had guns for that, still, these woods weren't normal woods, they had a certain... effect, on people, that's why Max and Y/N went for just four days and on summer break, there was something different on summer, something less dark around, as the days were longer and the nights shorter. Still, nighttime kept as terrifying as the rest of the seasons, they both had tested their limits over the years, how much they could endure, how much they could take before breaking. Four nights, that was their limit, and that wasn't a big help to their search, five days and four nights are not enough to look for someone, it's too little time to cover so much land. Nights were off the table when it came to searching, the nights were reserved to survival and survival only, the main point of them was making it to the next morning.

"You need to follow every order we give you, no matter what, Charles. This is important". Max told him, the deep tone and the frown on his face showing how serious he was. "Specially at night".

"You can't trust yourself out there at night". Y/N added.

"What's so bad about the nights?". Charles was starting to ask himself how come he could have been so in the dark about so many things for years.

"Those woods... They do things to you". Max looked at his lap, as if the mere memory of what place did to him was too much to bear with.

"That's why you always come back so sad and shaken up, no?". It kind of angered him, that Y/N never told him any of that.

"Yeah". She could feel his anger, but she didn't have the guts to talk about it now. She knew she fucked up, that she kept the love of her life in the dark because of pure and terrible shame. Charles deserved better than to be lied to.

They arrived at Amsterdam at 2 in the morning and traveling to Roosteren would take them two hours, driving at a legal speed. They weren't walking into the woods at 4 AM, ready to be totally consumed by it, so they booked some rooms and spent the night in Amsterdam. Max got his own room, retiring to it instantly, on the other hand, Charles and Y/N waited some more to go to bed. There was this tension, so many lies and so many secrets. Charles needed to know more, he needed to feel like she trusted him, because if she couldn't, then he couldn't trust her back. They drank some whisky in the bar of the hotel, sitting in a dark corner, trying to avoid curious eyes. He watched her down her glass like it was water and it brought him back to an old memory, one created not too far from there, in Belgium.

It was his rookie year in F1, and she was there to support him, but she wasn't letting him know that so easily. They had hooked up a few times before but they never have brought up the talk about feelings. It was hard for Charles, getting close, it didn't matter how much he liked her, he had trouble letting her in. She was as cold on the outside, like an iceberg, and if it was hard for Charles with easy-going girls, getting along with this one was even harder. The race went terrible, he DNFd and Max got a podium, which made things difficult between them. He was sitting in a bar, abusing of the privilege of not being so famous yet, drinking his weight in whisky, behind his trainer's back. She spotted him instantly, her red hair loose and her eyes bright as she entered the bar. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her when he caught the swing of her hips as she waltzed towards his table. She sat down without saying a word and they drank together, until they couldn't take it anymore. He had the confession on the tip of his tongue, he was just a little push away from telling her how much he loved her, but there was still this fear, this distance he couldn't walk. "What is it, Charles?", she asked him, with rosy cheeks and a big smile, talking for the first time since she sat at the table. "Nothing", he shied away, avoiding her eyes. "You know, you can trust me any secret you have. I won't tell", she teased him with a smirk and he couldn't help but mimic the action. "It's too big of a secret, you'd ran away the moment I tell you", that picked her interest. "What if I told you a secret of mine first? To build some trust". She ran her hand up his arm, her touch ghosting his skin and he could feel all of his nerve-ends on fire. "Okay, Cherie, tell me". That earned him a giggle from her and with her lips close to his ear, she let out her secret. "Today I was rooting for you, and even though you DNFd, I still feel like a winner when you look at me". She paused, not missing on the hitch in his breath, before continuing, she licked her lips. "So c'mon, Charlie, if you still think you can't tell me your secret... try me". He turned around, his heart pounding inside his chest and he finally met her gaze. With a full heart and new found courage, he kissed her like he had meant for a long time to do so. Spilling his secret wasn't the only thing he did that night.

"Are you guys ready?". Max asked at the other side of the room's door.

"Yeah, we'll be out in a minute". Y/N yelled back the response. They had barely slept and it was the first time in years that they both shared a bed without touching at all, like even the smallest of caresses could just break them down instantly. "Do you have everything, love?"

"Yes". He was the one being monosyllabic now. But it was alright, she felt like she deserved it.

"Morning". She greeted Max once they were out of the room and towards the rented car Max got while they were still getting ready. Her best friend gave her a small smile, looking back and forth between her and her husband, who was a few meters away, paying for the room. She tried to reassure him. "It's okay".

"You need to fix this, Y/N". Max told her and she looked at him curiously. "I know I wasn't his biggest fan before, but I like the guy now, okay?". She scoffed. "I mean it, don't loose him, not like this". She looked down. "You fix this, whatever it takes, Bunny".

The drive was tense but short and even shorter was their encounter with the Chief of Police, who robbed them 500.000 euros to let them camp in the woods. They didn't hesitate and paid the money without complaining. At the car, they pulled out the map and looked for the best route to get to the points the haven't searched yet. There wasn't much land that they needed to cover, the only reason Max and Y/N stopped was because everything had become too much for them to bear. The last time they went there, a few months back, the last night was so tough on them that they promised they wouldn't go back. There was still hope though, that they could find Maud in that little part of land that was left untouched. Charles seemed to get everything in pretty quickly, he was a smart guy and it didn't take him long before he was even putting out ideas and suggesting paths on the map. They were going to camp in the center of the land they were searching and their tent would stay there for the whole five days, it was not just for them to have some kind of base to go back to, but also a geographical reference for them, so they wouldn't get lost. Every distance they walked was previously measured from their camp, they would walk and check a quadrant of 10 meters each day, which meant that every day they would walk 10 meters further away from their confort zone. The 50-meters distance they'd reach by day 5 was the most dangerous, because they'd be more tired and worn out by then, making it harder to get back to the camp if they needed. Charles knew that he had to try and sleep as good as possible if he wanted to be ready for that.

"Remember, we're on October now, we have to get back to the camp at 6 PM at most". Y/N reminded them. "Everything after that would be dangerous".

"Charles, I just want to make sure you remember everything". Max started and the monegasque looked up from the map to meet his gaze. Max wanted him to repeat the night plan again. "Please, just one more time".

"I take a leak before dinner, eat, wrap up everything, get in the tent and never get out until sunrise". Charles chanted for the tenth time.

"Never get out before sunrise, no matter what you hear, no matter what you see". Y/N added. "Promise me".

"I promise".

Charles had never, ever in his life, pictured himself looking for a dead body. Ever. But there he was, moving dirt around, trying to see if he could find anything that proved to be a grave. Max and Y/N gave him a compass, a map, a pen, water, food, a gun and a book of plants to help him search the ground. He had learned that there were some plant that fed on decaying tissue and he could use the book to see if any of those plants grew on his quadrant. Max was doing what he could, considering that his legs were still in pretty bad shape, Charles wondered if he needed help. On the other hand, he was kind of glad that he could be away from Y/N the whole day, he was still angry and didn't want to say something that he would regret later. The time alone could help him cool down. He searched and searched, stopping only to eat and drink twice. Searching wasn't that demanding physically, but the attention to detail he needed to decide if he could move from one place to another was exhausting. He felt the pressure, what if he decided that there was nothing in that square meter and he made a mistake? What if his mistake meant they'd never find Maud? It was a lot of pressure, so he made sure, completely sure, that there was nothing there before he moved on. Though the day, once in a while he saw his wife in the distance, they weren't that far away on that first day. She meticulously checked every plant and carefully removed the dirt to check underneath it. He felt his chest heavy, he wanted nothing more than to go to her and hug her, he could see she was hurting, but the pain he felt because of her lies kept him away. He rather focused on his own task. At 6 PM, he walked back to the camp.

"Do you want more?". Max asked Charles, extending his arm to hand him another sealed can of tuna salad. They had stoked themselves with a wide variety of canned foods to eat for over a week, making sure to over-stoke themselves in case something happened. Even if Max hated tuna, he ate it like it was the best food he had ever had. It was like in those woods, they were so deep into their survival mood that nothing superficial mattered anymore.

"No, thanks, mate". Charles refused. "I don't want to eat too much and then wake up feeling all heavy and tired"

"Yeah, I get it". The Dutchman paused and looked away, unsure if he should ask, but his best friend was using a tree as her personal bathroom and it was his only chance alone with Charles to ask. "How are things between you two?"

"Well...". Max felt terrible for asking when he saw the flash of pain in Charles' eyes. "I guess we have a lot to talk about when we get back home". Max just hummed.

"I'm all done". Y/N informed them and sat back down between them. Max looked at her sternly, he didn't like that she went there alone after dinner. "I'm sorry, but I really had to go again".

"Let's just go to sleep". Max said retiring to the tent. Charles and Y/N didn't move, looking at anything but each other. The tent wasn't big and they couldn't just sleep with Max in the middle. After a moment of silence, Charles sighed and got up, walking straight to the tent and not looking back.

All she hoped for was forgiveness, haunted by the ghosts of all of her regrets, it seemed like the thing she wanted the most was the only one she couldn't get.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

So... another part here! I hope you guys like this Halloween special. I love writing horror, suspense and sci-fic, so I'll probably start including some of my stories in the future.

[the-great-ladyg]

hi! to preface this i don't mean it to be aggressive at all and i don't want to start a fight or any discourse, i'm just genuinely curious about something. if you don't want to answer or interact with me feel free to delete this ask or block me. i'm relatively new to the selfship community, and i've noticed that proshippers "stealing" imagines from antis. now, i'd like to ask, not with any malicious intent, why? coming from someone who noticed an imagine of mine reposted by you when looking through the imagines tag. now, i know you'll say block and ignore, i do have the proship tag blocked for my own comfort, however i wasn't aware there were different tags and so it showed up for me. i know that, again, for my own comfort, i put "proship dni" at the end of my post, and so i'm wondering why, in literal terms, stealing my writing and reposting it doesn't count as interacting? i won't ask you to take it down, and i'm more curious than anything, and again i don't want to start discourse. hopefully you don't want to either. thank you!

Oh, I've been wondering when this would happen since the first day I posted an imagine

At least for me, I do it as a way to give imagines to proshippers who don't want to interact in any way with people who don't want that interaction, also as a way to give them the chance to see that imagine and not come across rude people who wish the worst on them (many of the imagines I post are from people like that), it feels so bad when you read a cute imagine and there's a "proshippers dni kys pls". The selfshipping community can be so beautiful, but reading something very cute with a "proshippers dni" feels like they're saying "no, this cute scenario is not for you, also kys", that's why I left the selfshipping community in twitter, I couldn't enjoy being surrounded by people who don't wish to interact with me. So, I just want to give positivity to people like me, selfshipping is for enjoying and sharing, not feel attacked and harrassed, but also I sometimes do it out of spite after seeing a very rude dni.

I don't think it can count as an interaction, since I don't leave any fav or rb, no screenshots or @ that lead to the original author and even block them, again as a way to avoid interaction with someone who doesn't want it and to not lead to any harrassment. Did I take it without permission? Yes, but I don't say is my own creation because it's not, and I avoid interacting with any of author with a "proshippers dni" because they "ask" me to.

Sorry if I offended anon by doing it, I can't say I won't do it again since I want to do my best to help my fellow proshippers feel validated and safe in here, I might do my own imagines in a future just like I did with my FNAF imagine, but, yeah, I don't do this to make people angry.

[daryascurse]

sweet darya I am here with 🧃❄️🧩 for the writers ask game!!

:)))) oooomgg hehe thank you for asking me THREE!

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before.

I actually don't talk about this, but English is not my first language. I don't like to talk about my specific cultural composition or where I am/ my family has spread to be for several reasons, but, I am differing levels of competent at-least-conversational fluency in what I would say is 4 languages, and I want to learn so many more.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

ooooh MAAAN I have so many little percolating concepts... that i think ANY moot could do if they felt comfy (I don't want to put anyone on the spot in any way). I have had a years long Google Drive folder of drafts/ research for a Victorian-era love triangle where Reader is married to Eren but having an affair with Zeke. And idk I have it literally outlined more than any other WIP I have in progress or have ever worked on, honestly, but I just can't ever actually get myself to progress on it. If anyone feels inspired to take up that mantle, I am okay with it lol.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

I'm going to be hopefully not rude here but I have a few. .. I am not, personally, a fan of first-person x reader fics; while of course any "reader" stand-in will have tastes of the author and an original character, and I understand that "you" is not everyone's cup of tea, the "I" feels too much like another character entirely. I guess the parallel argument can be made for "you" fics that it's hard to immerse oneself if the "you" is not doing things you would do or thinking the way you would think, but "I" feels even more impersonal, which is not why I (personally) go for x reader fics. Same goes for "y/n," ... I respect its place in fandom history and the personal growth of a reader but it immediately puts me in the headspace of being in 6th grade sneaking a read of Tokyo Mew Mew yuri lemons on fanfiction.net.

Also - I really don't mean to offend. But when a fic very overtly obviously takes place in Japan and there's something just jarringly wrong with realities or social customs or logistics.. I can't do it. And I feel bad about that because I don't mean to be snooty, and some stuff really is not going to be intuitively known or easily found through research if you don't know what to look for. That's totally fair. But I just can't read that or immerse myself in that and honestly it's usually pretty evident right off the bat where it's egregious.

WRITERS ASK GAME QS

[moonstruckme]

hi!! as one of my favourite authors, i want to ask you what i should do in this situation - please dont be offended or take it the wrong way :)

i submitted a request to one of my other favourite authors a few months ago and they haven't written it - not saying they have to ! i totally understand that sometimes a request just doesnt inspire you or you just dont want to write it which is totally valid! accepting fanfiction requests is not an obligation and it should never feel like that! but i am in a bit of a pickle. i hate sending the same request to multiple authors, but in this case, if i dont know if they are ever going to write it/they have chosen not to write it, is it alright to send it to another author? it just seems disloyal, in a way, to send the exact same request to multiple authors so at least someone will accept and i dont want to do it! i dont want the author i originally sent the request to to see it on someone else's blog and feel bad about it but i also want to know if it would be okay? because maybe they personally dont like the request or maybe there was a tumblr glitch and it didnt get sent (in which case i dont want to spam request)- idk! but if it were you who i sent a request to and then you rejected/did not write it for a few months how would you feel if you saw the same request on someone else's blog?

feel free to ignore this if you wish to !! i love you and i love your works so please take care of yourself and stay hydrated 🤎🤎

Hi! It's really considerate of you to ask babe, it's a complicated issue!

So on one hand, there's always the possiblity that they're fully planning to write it and just haven't yet. I think one option is to just message the author/send something to their inbox asking in a very no-pressure way whether they know the request you're talking about and would be okay with you submitting it somewhere else. Because personally, I would be a bit upset if I saw something that I was planning to write being written by another author (even if I might suspect the situation you're describing has taken place, I have no way of knowing you didn't just submit those requests at the same time, you know?)

Also, and this is just my own philosophy on this, but when I've submitted requests to authors and they haven't been answered, I just sort of take that as me having placed a bet and it not panning out. (Which is definitely not the best way to describe it, I just can't seem to articulate what I'm trying to say atm) I typically let that one go, usually because in my case I've submitted that specific request to that specific author for a reason and I wouldn't really want someone else to write it anyway, but that's just me. I hope that doesn't come across as patronizing or like "get over it" in any way, I just wanted to add my perspective as a requestor as well as a writer.

Overall, I'd say the safest bet is to just make all writers involved as aware of the issue as you can, because in my experience, writing a request that someone else has gotten makes me feel like I've accidentally betrayed that other author. Maybe messaging the author you sent the request to to ask if you can submit somewhere else, and, whether they respond or not, just briefly disclosing in your new request like "I submitted this months ago to x use/another author but they haven't responded, so I get if you're not comfortable with this" might work?

I realize I've given you a lot of hoops to jump through and obviously you're your own person so do what you want! You seem like you're going into it with great intentions and I'm sure that'll come across whatever you choose to do :)

[peachymilkandcream]

Someone To Love|Part 3|Reiner x Jealous Reader

(A/N: I hope you guys have been enjoying this series, not writing Yandere does feel a little unfamiliar I'm not going to lie. But I'm enjoying it to be honest. Like I said I don't know how long this series will be but I am enjoying writing it. Comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied nsfw, depression, attempted suicide, violence, general angst, slowburn, lowkey love triangle with a happy ending, not a warning but Reiner calls you nicknames instead of y/n (because I personally can't stand it)

=============================================

It all could've gone so well, Reiner could have gone through a bit of sadness and heartache but eventually heal, ready to move on with his life.

But then she returned.

She saw Evelyn walking with Reiner, strutting around like she had always been from Marley, her new Warrior uniform matching that mentality. The way she carried herself felt like they were all less than her, she was set above all and should be worshipped as such.

She couldn't deny that Evelyn was beautiful, probably more than she. But who cared? At least she was truly on Reiner's side, this girl originated from Paradis, the island of devils. She was the enemy, a devil. They were all devils, she deserved to be in hell with all those other ones. How could Reiner be in love with a woman who caused their people so much pain and suffering?

Those thoughts kept her fuming, jealousy burning in her heart. Couldn't he see he was being used? Why wasn't this woman in prison? Paying for the crimes she undoubtedly committed which caused all Eldians to be set back hundreds of years.

"Hey kid, I want you to meet Evelyn, the friend I was telling you about." The amount of boyish glee in his face made her stomach turn, his crush burning bright in him.

"Nice to meet you-" She forced out, the other woman's stare so intense she couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity the feeling of being inadequate.

"A pleasure." Evelyn states, her smile void from her face. Her whole countenance oozing authority , this was a military woman.

"I'm taking her around Liberio, showing her the sights, making her feel welcome, y'know?"

She swallows. "Yeah- for sure- uhm- can I? Talk to you for a second Reiner?"

"Yeah no sweat, do you mind just waiting here Evelyn? This should only take a second."

With Evelyn's consent the two walk a few steps away so that they can speak privately.

"Reiner I thought you said she was from Paradis, what is an island devil doing here?"

Now he frowns. "She's not a devil, she's had a hard time of it and I'm just trying to help her out."

"While she helps our people's few rights to be stripped away?"

"Look, you don't understand. Evelyn deserted to come here, that- that bastard- what he did to her-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Levi- the sick fuck tricked her into marrying him, beat, used her- and then got her pregnant against her will- She ran from him kid, you have to understand."

She didn't say what was on her mind, but clearly he was being used. How could no one see that the bitch was lying about all of it and using him for free shelter and food? "How do you know she's not a spy?"

Anger flashes on his face, she'd gone too far. "How could you even suggest that? This is my dear friend who I've been through thick and thin with. She asked for me specifically because there was no one else she could trust. Took an oath and got her red armband, she's a Warrior through and through like me."

"I didn't mean to offend-"

"Well you did. It disgusts me that you would look at a woman who's been beaten and raped and accuse her of threatening this country." He starts to march away.

"Reiner wait-"

"No! I don't want to hear your poison any longer! If you can't respect my friend by holding your nasty opinions to yourself, then I don't want anything to do with you."

"Reiner please, I'm sorry!"

"Leave me alone, I'll take Evelyn somewhere she can feel safe from judgmental assholes like you."

One to never keep her temper she fires back. "Fine then! See if I care! When you have a knife in your back because you trusted an Island Devil then don't expect to see me at your funeral!"

As Evelyn and Reiner retreat with an angry glare back she allows her temper to cool slightly, instant regret following. She shouldn't have yelled at him. Besides, maybe Evelyn was perfectly lovely and she judged everything based off of what she'd been told.

But she couldn't apologize, not yet. Reiner would need time to cool off, if she did it now he'd order her to never speak to him again. For now she'd buy her time. but make sure to act before it was too late for Reiner.

The unease in her stomach churned more.

[hiramaris]

Dusk til Dawn

Part 10

Summary: Following Episode 9. And spoilers for Episode 10. 

Author’s note: As Episode 10 is just released I just want to say heads up for those who are not yet finished. Completing the game without spoilers really made a difference, and as much as possible I want everyone to experience that. And for those finished, I’ll gladly welcome you to my domain where MC took a different route.

Disclaimer:  I do not own Duskwood or any of the related characters. Duskwood is created by and owned by Everbyte Studio. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Duskwood story belong to Everbyte Studio.

Warning: Mentions of blood, suicide, violence, pedophiles, drugs, gun, murder, sex offenders, kidnapping

Gif not mine (please kindly inform me if anyone of you knew)

Y/n's really leaving.

It's the mantra that kept playing over Jessy's head like a broken record player.

As Jake dropped the call, you hadn't had the chance to spare them any more glances as you prepared your things. You had inspect the gun you have with you along with its ammunition multiple times already. You even took out a hunting knife and place it in a holster wrapped around the side of your leg.

She shivered at the thought you even had to use them.

When you confessed about your true self, what she said was true. Nothing had changed about what she thought of you. You're still Y/n, the one she had grown to care and love.

Yes, love. She knew love is such a deep word to use when she had only met you not too long ago. She believed before that finding love online is futile, and it was difficult to establish trust with some strangers she met online. Her boyfriend was able to cheat on her after years of being physically together, what more can someone from miles away where they'll be away from her sight and touch?

But when you came, all these doubts seemed to wash away. The fact you made her feel safer more than anyone else just by merely being on a phone with her, making her feel special just by asking her on a virtual date, making sure she's okay and the occasional sleep calls with you, none of the people she had dated made her feel the same way you do and you weren't even here physically.

There's no room for doubt anyway. Not when you had risked your life for this group many times already.

Now as she watch your back, ready to risk your life for the last time, she realized that you really are determined to go.

And she didn't have the heart to stop you.

She wanted Hannah and Richy back. She really does. But at the expense of you? That's something she finds hard to accept. She knew you were fully capable, but that doesn't do anything to ease her worries.

What if you get hurt?

What if you don't come back?

The mere thought clenches her heart so painfully that breathing felt like a chore now.

"Guys, please don't give me that look."

The cabin was so silent that the request that left your lips seemed louder than ever.

****

The next few minutes of preparation were a lot of crying on the girls and Thomas' end. Dan, well, his tipsy ass kept passing you drinks (that Lilly always takes away from you). You assumed that's his way to say 'Be careful.'

You appreciate what he's doing though. You didn't want to leave them feeling like this. Like they just sent you to your death and they can't do anything about it.

After leaving everyone's safety to Dan, you decided it's time to go.

You were surprised when Jessy volunteered to walk you to the porch. You assumed she wanted to say goodbye properly.

The porch was bathed in moonlight when you stepped outside, casting long shadows on the wooden planks. You turned to her, her red hair illuminated by the soft glow.

"Jess," you began. "I'm sor—"

"Don't," she sniffed, stopping you from your statement. "I'm sorry I'm making it hard for you to leave. F-for... for being selfish." Her voice cracked. "I just... it's dangerous and I— God. I just didn't want you to get hurt. I'm sorry..."

You couldn't help but wrap her in your arms. You held her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You've got nothing to apologize for, baby."

"There's a lot. And a lot to thank for, too," she breathed, leaning into your embrace for dear life. "And I'd like to tell all of them to you once you come back."

"You mean..." Your eyes widened at her implications.

"Yeah... I'm letting you go." The way she lets out those words seemed like it's physically hurting her. She lets out a watery laugh, "and It's not like my opinion matters this time."

You couldn't believe what you are hearing. You leaned back to her embrace, hands carefully gripping her by the shoulder. Puffy, tear-filled eyes met your own.

But they are not begging you to not go this time, but begging you to come back.

"It matters." You reached out and gently cupped her cheek, your thumb brushing against her skin, eager to make your point across. "It sounds so screwed up and yet," you paused, your eyes boring into her own with great intensity. "you can tell me to stay, and I will."

Whatever may happen tonight is a huge gamble to play.

Lose and you will lose everything.

Win.

That's all there is to it.

Fight and win.

You can't afford to lose. Not now.

"No... No, Y/n." She shook her head gently, her touch on your hands warm and comforting. "We both know that's not who you are."

"Jessy..." Your eyes softened drastically.

"Save Hannah and Richy, okay?" She took hold of your hands on her cheeks, her voice quivering but determined. Despite the tears running down her cheeks, there was a fierce resolve in her expression. "If there's anyone who could do it, it would be you, Y/n/n."

Her words hit you deep, like a surge of energy coursing through your veins. She had an unwavering belief in you, and it only made you more determined to succeed. The lump in your throat grew, and you didn’t trust your own voice enough to speak without breaking. And so, you did the only thing you thought would convey your emotions best at that moment.

Leaning in, you brushed your lips against hers in a tender kiss. It was a mixture of longing and reassurance, a promise that you'd come back to her. There was a softness in the way your lips met, a silent exchange of emotions that words could never fully capture. When you finally pulled away, her eyes were teary but determined.

She tasted like salt from her tears, the faint sweetness of strawberries, and the familiar comfort of home.

"I love you," she whispered as you both separated, her breath warm against your lips. Your eyes widened at her confession, a mix of surprise and joy filling your chest. "Don't," she breathed, eyes still closed. "I'll wait for you to say it back once you come back. I just want to say it."

"You're no fair, Miss Hawkins." A watery laugh escapes you, and you couldn’t resist the pull any longer. You leaned in, capturing her lips in another tender kiss.

"Just want to make sure, Agent," she replied, her voice holding a hint of teasing. "Now go, save our friends, and come back to me."

It looks like you have to speed up the process because waiting for days to say it back is going to kill you, you’re sure.

Despite everything, despite the danger that lay ahead, you found yourself smiling.

You were still under the same sky, and somehow, that thought gave you comfort.

Everything’s going to be okay.

****

"Any updates on Michael's whereabouts?"

These were Jake's first words to you as he entered the car. You didn't have to look to know it was him. The same monotonous voice can be recognized from miles away. The heavy door of the car clicked shut, sealing the two of you in the confined space.

Oh, and of course. How could you forget? The guy loves his comfy hoodie so much, his mask, and his favorite beanie that his mom personally crocheted for his birthday. Even in these circumstances, he still clung to his attire like a security blanket.

"None so far," you settled on as a reply.

You started the engine once again and sped past the mini stop you and Jake agreed upon on. It was a little far from the cabin but it was relatively closer to Jake's hotel.

Tonight was cold and you wouldn't really blame Jake for his chosen clothing. However, this type of cold is something a warm coffee couldn't handle. It was the type where it send chills down your spine, you felt a sense of impending doom, not for you but for Hannah and Richy. Time is against you two and you know from experience that time is an opponent you cannot win against.

"You know you really don't have to do this."

"I have to. It is the best option we have. You have put yourself in danger for long enough. Listening to Michael's demand would be suicide. That is why I cannot allow you to go alone, but at the same time, I cannot allow Hannah and Richy to be in danger. They are both in the Ironsplinter Mine. I can almost pinpoint their exact location. I cannot say how long this will be the case." Jake's voice remained steady, his tone unemotional, though his words conveyed a sense of urgency and conviction.

"I didn't know you'd be this talkative personally," you chuckled. "But in all seriousness, I am glad to be doing this 'kamikaze' mission as Dan would like to say, with you."

"Indeed, we've come a long way, haven't we?"

"Yes, we have, Jake. Yes, we have."

The car ride continued in a comfortable silence. There was an understanding between you and Jake that didn't require many words. It felt weird but right in some way, like two puzzle pieces that somehow fit together despite being from entirely different sets.

Both of you are polar opposites. An investigator and a criminal. Who would have thought both would remain seated in a confined space and talk about the most random things.

If someone would tell you you'd be partnering up with a hacker and probably one of the most wanted criminals in this part of Europe, you'd probably give that person a glare of a lifetime, yet here you are with Jake.

Indeed, you'd come a long way.

****

"Y/n," Jake began after minutes of comfortable silence.

"Yeah?" You turn to look at him briefly, careful to not let your eyes stray for too long away from the road. You wouldn't want to have a repeat of Hannah and Amy's mistakes. The forest was dense, and the road was illuminated only sporadically by dim streetlights. With its numerous twists and turns, you couldn't afford any distractions.

"I wish to ask one last favor of you." He continued as he typed away on his laptop. The hum of the car's engine and the occasional tapping of his keyboard filled the space between his words.

"Sure, what do you want me to do?"

"I would like to ask you to tell Michael that you are on your way to the Grimrock." He looked up at you, his gaze steady and serious.

"Makes sense," you mused. Slowing down a touch, you pulled out your phone and started composing a message to Michael, ensuring to keep your driving steady at the same time.

You grinned at your own antics. You showed your phone to Jake, knowing he shares the same humor as you.

"Seriously?" He lets out a soft laugh, the subtle crinkles around his eyes giving away his amusement. "This should not be a laughing matter, however, I find it really funny."

You snorted, unable to suppress your chuckle. "I just can't miss the opportunity."

****

"I don't get it, you know?" You mumbled aloud, the words escaping your thoughts unintentionally. It felt like you needed to voice your confusion, even if just to the air in the car.

"Hmm?" Jake turned to you with a quizzical look, his attention fully on you now.

"Thomas is right." You muttered after a beat or two, your gaze fixed on the road ahead as the car continued its journey. The cave on the outskirts of Moonvale was getting closer with each passing mile. "I am literally the highest-ranking criminal investigator in the region. I don't get why you're all so protective of me. I am fully capable of subduing someone like Michael. I've been trained for it for years." You voiced your thoughts with a hint of frustration in your tone. "I'm just not used to it," you exhaled sharply, your breath carrying a mixture of resignation and confusion.

"Jessica cares for you," Jake responded slowly, each word carrying weight as if he was carefully considering the impact. "You can be Superman, and be all invincible and she'll still be worrying about you. You cannot take that away from her. The same goes for everyone. They have grown to care for you."

"But what about Hannah and Richy?" you countered.

He didn't respond immediately, his fingers still dancing across the keyboard.

"Just because they don't want you to go doesn't mean they don't care about them. It just means they don't want you to go, however, it wasn't really their choice to make as the situation still demands you to go. It's not really a matter of choice of who is more important than who, and who is more capable than who." Jake's gaze met yours, his expression serious. "Remember your question back then, when Jessy was attacked and you were ready to fly here?"

"How far is too far when it comes to saving a life?"

"Precisely. Life is life, Y/n. No one will be greater than the other. We do not want you to put yourself in danger just because you have the capacity to do so."

"And you're allowed to do the same thing?" You scoffed. You know Jake's response was logical, but it didn't quite quell your frustration. "Why can't the same rules apply to both of us? I have seen that they are mostly relieved to be knowing it will be you who will go rather than me. And I saw their distress when I decided to come along, too, Jake."

You wanted to say it's unfair because it is.

"Y/n, you cannot blame them."

"I am not. It's just not fair." There you said it.

"You have formed a bond with them. A genuine one, it will only be natural for them to be more worried about you." He tried to explain. "I have threatened them and invaded their privacy on multiple occasions. That's why I do not expect them to warm up to me the way they have to you."

You wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy. If they have known you have access to their private data as well, would they have thought of you the same?

You don't even want to know.

You sighed. You're also being unfair to them, thinking about them like this. They have accepted you for who you are, and you having access to their private account seemed to be shallow compared to what you have done, and yet they turned a blind eye to them.

This is some fucked up shit, really.

"But what about me?" You spoke softly, almost to yourself. "You have formed a genuine bond with me. So, my opinion for you not to go doesn't matter?"

"It meant the world to me, Y/n. That you cared for me. But I have already made the decision to protect you at any cost." He said softly. "I have been on the run for four years. One event changed my whole life completely. I lost everything in a single night. My home, my identity. Every single person in my life, Y/n. There was nobody I could trust even though I did not want to."

"I am sorry to hear that." You let out a sigh. "I just didn't want you to think that no one cares about you."

"There is no need to be sorry," he replied, ruffling your hair, which earned a playful groan from you. "I knew what I was getting into. I made that decision."

"But that doesn't mean it's not hard."

"You do not have to sacrifice your life and career for me. I am already used to running away. I also knew you wanted a life here, with Jessica, and the others. I will not take that away from you."

You smiled sadly. Yes, you do want that.

But will the situation permit you? You're not entirely sure.

"Don't you ever have the desire to stay here with Lilly and Hannah?" You questioned back. "And live a normal life?"

"Of course, I do." He answered, eyes growing a bit distant. "However, I know it will be impossible."

"Can you maybe stop predicting things, Jake?"

"You and I both know how this will all end."

"Do we?" You challenged, a small smirk creeping into your features. "Maybe we should start trying for a few alternatives."

"What do you mean?"

****

"Well, here we are," you announced as you parked the car. The headlights illuminated the end of the road, revealing the entrance to the cave. It wasn't exactly a picturesque spot, with a glaring red "No Trespassing!" sign catching your attention. "Looks like it's pretty isolated."

Jake stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him, and took in the surroundings. The air was heavy with anticipation, and the looming darkness of the cave entrance only added to the eerie atmosphere. "Seems like no one's really allowed around here," he observed.

"Hmm, so I guess we don't have any choice. We're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way," you said, stretching your fingers and rolling your shoulders to relieve some of the tension from the long drive.

"By old-fashioned, you mean breaking and entering?" Jake quirked an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," you grinned. "Cleo would be so proud of us."

A soft chuckle escaped Jake. "She does have a reputation for breaking in."

"Shall we contact the others?"

"Yes, that would be ideal," Jake agreed, his expression serious as he retrieved his phone.

****

"Hello?" you greeted everyone, your voice carrying through the phone's speaker.

From the other end of the call, a collective sigh of relief seemed to escape.

"Oh my goodness, there you are!" Lilly exclaimed.

"You've been gone for ages," Jessy added, her voice tinged with concern.

"They were only gone for a little over an hour, Jessy," Dan interjected. "Hey there, Sherlock and Hackerman. How's it going?"

"Oh shush it, Dan. One hour is long enough." Jessy shot back with a playful roll of her eyes. "How are things going, you two?"

"We have reached the Ironsplinter mine," Jake told them.

"Yeah, see this big opening with these do not cross tapes all over it?" You explained, turning your phone's camera to capture the scene. The cave's opening was imposing, shrouded in darkness and warning signs. "That's the entrance. We're going to have to cut through the tapes and climb our way through to enter."

"Yeah," Cleo's voice came through the phone. "So, technically no one should be allowed inside?"

"Exactly," you replied, a playful grin in your voice. "I can now see why you like breaking in."

A burst of laughter echoed on the other end of the call, most notably from Dan. "Good one."

"Seriously, Y/n?" Cleo can only facepalm in exasperation. "I was afraid Dan has already corrupted you, and it was only a few hours since you arrived here."

"Hey! I'm not that bad."

"Anyway, there will be instances where we will be suddenly offline, but don't worry. The reception here is just really unreliable as you can imagine." You informed them.

"I thought as much," Thomas chimed in.

"Thanks for the heads up," Lilly added.

"We're lucky to even have any reception at all," Cleo remarked.

"Be careful, both of you," Jessy's voice held genuine concern.

"We'll keep you updated as soon as we can, okay?" You assured them before ending the call. Turning to Jake, you said, "Now, shall we head inside?"

****

In the dim light of your flashlights, you and Jake ventured into the cave's mouth. The air grew cold and heavy, laden with dampness that clung to their skin like a shroud. The walls seemed to close in, the jagged rock formations looming like the teeth of some ancient, evil creature.

"Comfy," you whistled as the interior of the cave unfolded before you. If the outside was already pitch black, then the inside is pretty much the epitome of darkness. Outside, at least there was the moonlight to help you make out your surroundings, but inside? If you hadn't brought flashlights, you'd likely be navigating blind. "Creepier than I imagined."

"Well, considering its history, it has all the right to be called creepy," Jake mentioned while examining his map. "During my research, I found out quite a bit about this mine."

"Sounds like you," you playfully nudged him.

"I wanted to be prepared, just like you," he scoffed. "I'll handle the tech stuff, while you do your agent thing."

"Jake, I'm everything but prepared." You sighed as you navigated the uneven terrain, moving with cautious grace. Your steps echoing softly. The cave's floor was uneven, a mosaic of rocks and pebbles. Occasionally, you would need to clamber over a protruding rock or duck beneath a low-hanging stalactite. "I just want to get them both back," You added after a while.

"Since when did Dolos come unprepared?" he remarked, his flashlight tracing patterns on the cave's wall.

"Guess there's a first time for everything," you conceded with a shrug. The cave's darkness seemed to breathe, and an unnerving ambiance hung in the air.

"Dolos... the spirit of trickery, a master at cunning deception, craftiness, and treachery," he mused. The glow of the flashlights danced along the tunnel's walls as you both continued deeper into the cave. "I can see why you chose that alias. It has quite fit you apparently."

"I'm not sure if I'll take that as a compliment." You raised an eyebrow. Did he just call you a liar? Just in a metaphoric way?

"It is a compliment," he affirmed as he led you to a tunnel on the right. The narrow passage led you deeper into the heart of the cave, each step echoing softly against the rocky walls. "I was fascinated by you from the start. It's no secret that I have access to all private and public information of this group. But I do not have access to yours." He paused, his tone contemplative. "And I know you only let me access your phone because it's a dummy phone that only has your private messages with them, nothing else." He continued, his footsteps echoing faintly. "You know the basic tricks in hacking, and there are also instances where you've demonstrated advanced techniques. Things that a normal citizen wouldn't have knowledge of."

"I am a covert agent for a reason," you replied, your voice steady in the echoing tunnel. "As a master in psychology, it is easy for me to deceive my targets, which is a vital tool in becoming an undercover agent."

"What I am saying, Y/n is that you're the only one capable to subdue Michael." He paused for emphasis before continuing. "Play with his brain the way Dolos would."

"Roger that." You smirked. "Though it surprises me you'd known about Dolos a lot already."

"Maybe Dan is not the only biggest fan of yours."

****

"I must say, it's quite smart of him to use this mine to hide Hannah and Richy," Jake commented as you both treaded cautiously through the depths of the cave.

"Because it's so extensive," you nodded, the beam of your flashlight cutting through the darkness.

"Correct," Jake affirmed. "The Ironsplinter Mine has a total length of more than 60 miles. The main entrance in Terrendale has turned into a museum, with a part of the tunnels accessible to visitors." He gestured at different parts of the map. "However, most of the tunnels beyond that point are blocked off and in danger of collapsing. I'd estimate that Michael has about 30 miles of tunnels at his disposal."

"A perfect place to hide," you agreed, a thoughtful expression on your face. Then, a realization struck you. "Jake, what if he's been hiding here from the beginning?"

"Then we must assume that he knows his way around quite well," Jake said through gritted teeth. The tension in the air grew as you both continued your journey, maintaining a brisk pace while staying alert.

Your eyes scanned the surroundings, your hand never straying far from your weapon. Being ambushed by Michael Hanson was not a situation you wanted to find yourself in.

Suddenly, Jake came to a halt, his flashlight revealing a hole in the ground with a ladder leading down. "Looks like a shaft," you commented.

"Indeed," Jake replied.

"Let me just update the group."

With your phone safely secured in your pocket, you turned your full attention to Jake. "Anything else I should know before we head down? It felt like you deliberately left something out when talking to the others."

"It's kind of unsettling how you can pick up on that," Jake sighed. "According to my research, the ladders in this shaft go down for about 200 feet. In case any of the ladders are damaged or missing—"

"Hmm we're fucked, right?"

"I was going to say our plan will fail but I guess it's the same thing."

****

Upon midway in descending the ladder, your phone began to vibrate incessantly in your back pocket. The unexpected vibration caused you to falter for a moment, your grip on the ladder tightening instinctively to prevent any accidents.

Once your feet were firmly on the ground, you retrieved your phone and checked the screen. It was flooded with notifications, indicating that you and Jake had been exploring the mine for a longer period than you had realized.

"We have to be thankful that the ladder was relatively stable," Jake mentioned, his gaze fixed on the map in his hands once again. "However, they have been exposed to constant moisture for years and are quite rusty."

"I think we should seriously reconsider using them on the way back," you remarked, a shiver running down your spine at the thought of relying on rusty ladders above a 200-foot drop. "The last thing I want is plummeting straight into the abyss."

"Right, especially if there are four of us."

"Is there any other way out?" you inquired, your eyes scanning the intricate network of tunnels that surrounded you. Without a map on hand, getting lost in these winding passages seemed like a very real possibility.

"Yes, there is. However, they come with some extensive detours."

You sighed, a sense of fatigue settling in. "Oh, boy... this is going to be one hell of a night."

~~~~~

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A/N: Hello! First of all, I want to apologize for making this fanfiction under WIP for months. I have read your comments and everything and I want to thank you for spurring the author in me once again. School has been a pain in my ass and it has been a hassle juggling life and boosting my GPA along with some personal issues. To make it short, it had emotionally and mentally burned me out to the point I can't even write anything. Not to mention I was bombarded with paper works so I really have to force myself to vomit words just to survive the semester so yeah, I think that sums it up. My apologies again because I have to cut this part out upon reaching 4.5k because I feel like the whole part will be far too long and I wouldn't be able to put a breather between scenes. The next part will be uploaded soon after this, don't worry.

Question tho: what are your thoughts on my writing style? Because I feel like I'm stretching out the storyline more than it probably needs, adding details that might not be entirely essential. I want to hear what's on your mind.

[yuseirra]

165 spoilers/review~ just ranting a bit...

What am I supposed to make of this?;; what if Kamiki REALLY didn't want ANY of these things to happen but he started dysfunctioning as a god after having been "broken by the darkness of the industry"?;(oh actually I'd be so happy if that were to ve the case lol but then again we saw him dragged off so;;) I don't know about everyone else but WHY WOULD HE TRY TO HURT AI OUT ALL PEOPLE.

All he did was talk about her and.. I don't even think he tried to show Ryosuke her toothbrush, Ryosuke was a total creep and a disgust for being offended by seeing Ai's toothbrush in her boyfriend's apartment, it's ridiculous, going after and murdering someone over it??? How is that even possible?? How is that guy so entitled, who gives him the right. I'm actually ready to throw this piece in the fire if they make that case be Kamiki's fault because they can't!! That's so harmful! How COULD Kamiki be responsible for that? Ryosuke went after her upon the reasoning that she had a boyfriend and had kids with him, didn't he?? How can that be Kamiki's fault?? They HAVE to get back to this. It made me so angry when I first got to that chapter. It got on my nerves, the writers better address this in the final chapter, I don't care about ANYTHING ELSE NOW AT THIS POINT, IT'S A MESS, I need to see Ryosuke and Nino being addressed as perpetrators in the very least. THEY'RE THE ONES WHO ARE IN THE WRONG FOR THAT CASE. It's too obvious but they still have to because people will get the wrong idea. If that gets cleared up.. A huge weight will be lifted off my chest. I hate the idea of RYOSUKE, being all people, not being held as responsible for the horrid thing he did, seeing Kamiki being framed as the one who's behind it all??? Oh, it shouldn't be!!!! Oh no way!!

This guy is a god with leaking powers I swear that's what's been happening. Oh.. I can't believe it's the last chapter so soon and nothing's been answered YET AGAIN. If I'M the author, I do that before this series is over. That would be my priority. Oh... that, upcoming chapter, is so ugly. I didn't come here to see that unfold. Sorry, I rarely say something like that to someone's precious piece of work, I didn't go that far with what I said, till the previous chapter, I should be allowed to say it...for I really had followed with a lot of attention and care, it really is horrifying and I don't like it. It's so ugly. Who'd have read this piece for that? I want to cheer for the artist's hard work, it's not like I don't respect them but they didn't have to write things this way or, formulate the scene in this way. It's like.. Torturing the fans who wished for a happy ending, they must know what they're doing with this, don't they?;; and they still chose to do it, it does frustrate me. Why do this to their fans who loved their piece and characters? They'd know it'd surely hurt a lot of people through doing this. They must have a reason for it, would they! Whatever message they intend to send out with it, it better be good and convincing enough and worth it, but I don't expect a dramatic shift in 50 pages. That's not a lot compared to what this piece of work originally deserved.

[docholligay]

Fareeha Amari is now a canon lesbian I think this will please you

Love that everyone mentioned me in this

Okay, so a lot of this is for @seolh who asked for the tealdeer for the short story because she knows I hate myself and have no sense of fucking self-preservation even a little bit, even at all. Overwatch is EXTREMELY difficult for me to drag myself away from, even if at this point (in some ways because of something I am about to complain about) my Lena, Fareeha, Angela, etc, are all BASICALLY original characters with their own gifts and weaknesses and internal lives that the game and its surrounding media is not interested in. I still have feelings for it in a weird fucked up way. It's my toxic not-quite-ex

ANYWAY THAT BEING SAID.

Things I loved:

Pharah being gay, obviously. But I'm going to be honest here--at this point what BlizzOfficial does has no bearing on my characters as I see them.

The slight nod to Pharah being a by the book weirdo with her seatbelt still fucking fastened when the flight is in any motion at all. Loved that. Actually that was my favorite part of the story. Thought it was great.

Love anytime we use callsign vs first name as an intimacy identifier, though, it DOES bug me that we become intimate with Baptiste in *checks watch* 3 pages.

Did not like:

So a lot of the problem I have with the surrounding media is partly Blizz' fault and partly the way we have now constructed our interaction with media on the internet. The percentages of which I'm not sure. But the writing, the characterization is BLAND. There is not a single bold choice made with any character in this story. Before you say "But Pharah is a lesbian!!!" This is an American game made by Americans, mostly, for Americans, mostly. That is the cultural context of the game. Like it or don't, it is true. Pharah being a lesbian given the game demographics is not all that bold. I'm not complaining about that specifically. What I'm saying is: These characters are milquetoast as FUCK. You can't be opposed to how either Pharah or Baptiste are portrayed because they are portrayed in such a textbook inoffensive way that they can neither fail nor rise. This is by design. I am not actually blaming the author. I am sure she had a brief that said "Every character has to speak and behave like like a textbook White American lest we be branded bigots on the internet." But it's annoying, and I know OW has, historically, had a very very annoying fandom that has cried wolf so many times and had so much infighting and had some of the WORST FAITH ENGAGEMENT with social justice I have EVER fucking seen, to the point of me finding it EMBARRASSING, but. It still leads to me looking at Pharah and Baptiste and being like "I have no clue who these bitches are and becaus eI cannot hate them I cannot love them"

"I would have thought it was obvious. I'm not passing, am I?" this is a very very weird line. If you're gonna have Pharah talk like a fucking White Midwestern American 24/7* she's going to say something like, "Do I look straight?" or something. I'm not offended just confused.

It seems they've decided that Pharah did in fact grow up with Overwatch around her all the time despite Ana sometimes being an absentee parent, I guess? I know it's been ping-ponged for awhile, and I admit to disappointment that they came down on this side, not for the least of which reasons that it makes it disappointing that ...everyone else also abandoned her? She said she's hadn't seen Cole in years. Angela? Jesus Christ, how does this woman not have significant issues. (Oh right. Milqued Toast.) It also makes Fareeha/Angela a weirder thing for me, so I will put it out of my mind immediately.

*Obviously I do not love this choice, but I do think it's a fair one and I understand why it's made. Please keep that in mind when I rag on it, I'm not actually IN REAL LIFE mad about it.

[cavegirlpoems]

Another take on demihumans as social constructs

I had an idea knocking around inside my head, and then I saw that Dan had already done it over on Throne Of Salt, which rather undercut my brilliant originality. More time has passed, so I figured I'd have a crack at the idea myself.

So. Demihumans (elf, half-elf, hobbit, dwarf, orc, half-orc, goblin, hob-goblin, dragon). Rather than positing each as a seperate species - and then getting our skull-callipers out to compare them - we'll just look at the position each occupies in our setting socially, and extrapolite backwards from that. EG, let's suppose you're an elf because you do elf things and people treat you like an elf. But you're still recognisably an elf. What would that look like? How do you get that in society?

Suffice to say, this is all a thought experiment. I have no idea how this would play out in a proper setting or actual game.

Elves

"This person has autism, but their knowledge or power means we have to treat them respectfully."

An elf is quite possibly smarter than you, but (if you aren't also an elf) the ways they think don't make sense. They follow patterns and customs that most people don't, they prioritise things regular people don't, they just fucking know things sometimes. Sometimes unusually innocent, sometimes deeply worldly and old before their time.

Elves typically go into professions where knowledge is important, and people can't just reject you out of hand for being unearthly and weird. Mages, priests, artists, nuns, midwives. That air of oddness can be a perk; it lets people know they're dealing with an elf, and should be prepared to act accordingly.

You treat elves with respect. After all, they know things and they have sufficient power or clout that if you offend them, they can make you regret it. 

Most have at least a smattering of magic, some handy utility powers and maybe something like a magic missile to smack people who don't show respect. They take to it naturally, and often don't get that others can't just learn magic with the same fluency and focus that they do. Isn't it easy?

It doesn't have to be autism, but that's the most common one, and also the one the author has and is familiar with.

Different types of elves correspond to areas of focus. Wood elves like the natural earthy things like birds and trees, high elves like some 'respectable' topic like history or heraldry, dark elves know about something vaguelly taboo like poisons or spiders.

The term 'half-elf' is basically the same as 'high functioning'. Not really used by elves among themselves, but regular people use it to describe elves that seem more normal and approachable.

Generally, elf-ness is broadly hereditable, about as hereditable as autistic traits in the real world. A changeling is just somebody who turns out to be an elf despite nobody expecting it based on their family.

Elf communities exist. Cloisters and hideaways. They get weird fast.

Dwarves

"From a commoner family that knows marvelous trade secrets."

Being a dwarf means you've inherited the family name (or been adopted or married into it). You're one of a particular clan, and your clan knows how to do something that they guard jealously.

Metalworking is a common one. Mining and underground construction techniques are another. Warfare with specific secret techniques is another. Maybe a mix. Whatever it is, your clan has a secret way of doing things that gives you an advantage. Dwarf-made armour is just better than everybody else's. Dwarves who go to war fight in ways that seem impossible to replicate without their lengthy training, and are shockingly effective.

Dwarves often have magic of their own. More secrets handed down the clan. They have their own little sects of the mainstream religions, and their own priests.

The techniques of the dwarves give them an edge over other people. They're just commoners, but they can negotiate with nobles and even royalty, because if the dwarves aren't paid to their satisfaction nobody else can do it as well. And, really, a noble who's jewellery isn't made by dwarves is an embarassment. 

These secrets need to be kept, or the dwarves lose their wealth and power. Dwarves prefer to live away from outsiders, in innaccessable places like mountain villages or underground fortresses. They don't trust non-dwarves, who might try to steal their secrets. The exception is other dwarves, who have a vested interest in preserving dwarvish independence. 

They know how to hold a grudge. When you're jumped-up commoners bargaining with nobility, you have to.

Hobbits

"These people have fucked off to live independently, and its too much effort to get them to come back."

Hobbits have opted out of mainstream society to go and do something else. Maybe they dig holes in hillsides and make a commune that lives in a rural idyl. Maybe they have a caravan and travel the world with like-minded hobbits, trading goods and stories. Maybe they flee from persecution and live in floating villages hidden in the marshes.

Basically, they're hippies. They rejected the rat race and went to live some more authentic, satisfying or reasonable life off in the middle of nowhere. Their communities are tight-knit, idealistic and egaletarian, mostly. When a hobbit community goes wrong, it goes really wrong really quickly, and then falls apart entirely. 

Some people are first-generation hobbits, who - alongside a group of like-minded individuals - chose to live like this. Some were born into a hobbit community and decided to stay. Some found a hobbit community and got adopted into it.

They love their pipeweed, and they're good at hiding. Hobbits get on with dwarves a lot of the time, even if their relationships tend to be distant.

The author has dated a number of hobbits in her time.

When some horrible dark lord rises up, fueled by the fire and smoke of industry and averice, and starts building dreadful armies and dark satanic mills, hobbits tend to be among the first victims they go after. Them and other minorities. Hobbits don't tend to fight back in an organised way, they go to ground, move on, or form guerilla resistance movements.

They are probably living happier lives than you are. Why aren't you a hobbit, actually?

Orcs

"Soldiers without homes."

Being an orc means fighting as a way of living. No farms, towns, shrines, capitals. Just a military camp that moves as the campaign moves. War is all you know. Home isn't a real concept, or isn't anymore, you just live wherever the fighting is, or wherever you go the fighting follows.

Some orcs are mercenaries. Poverty or desperation or persecution pushes them to sign up with a mercenary band. A tent in a military camp is still a roof over your head, sort of. Sometimes the orc is fleeing something, or ambitious. 

Maybe they don't intend to be an orc for long. Really, though, cashing out isn't likely to happen. You die young, or if you don't your so scarred - emotionally and physically - that regular society doesn't want you back.

Other orcs didn't have a home to begin with. An invasion took it from you, and now your home is occupied by somebody else. Or your home has been on the front-lines of a trench war for decades and completely fucking uninhabitable, and the conflict is all you know.

Orcs stick together. Their real loyalty is to their comrades. An employer has their loyalty only as much as they pay them, unless that employer is also an orc. 

There's a code. They treat orcs on the other side of the conflict better than the rest of the enemy. If you capture an enemy orc, he's one of yours now. He switches sides. Maybe his whole band surrenders and joins you, and they're with you now. Their loyalty is to the orcs, not to whichever kings and emperors started this war to begin with.

Sometimes orcs end up in the armies of dark lords. This lasts as long as the dark lord keeps paying them and doesn't expect them to break the code. They don't care what fucked up stuff the dark lord is doing, spend long enough as a mercenary and you get numb to attrocities, so long as the money keeps coming.

Other orcs take a more direct approach, and support themselves through banditry and conquest. 

There's a lot of overlap between orcs and goblins. There's surprising overlap between orcs and dwarves.

Goblins

"Sentient vermin."

Even worse than being an orc. Somebody in power wants you gone, and now you don't have rights anymore. Basically outlaws. 

A goblin might be a heretic, a criminal, somebody whose land got stolen, a fugitive, or something like that. Or just born to goblin parents. You're not part of regular society, and regular society wants you fucking gone. There's overlap between goblins and orcs. People don't like to admit it, but there's overlap between goblins and hobbits.

There's absolutely no social safety net when you're a goblin. Individual people might be nice to you, but others won't be, and maybe there's a bounty on your head again. Best to hide from them, then.

Goblins get really, really good at hiding. They find places they can escape from the world, and they band together with other goblins. When society is your enemy, fuck 'em. Feed yourself through subtle theft, banditry, whatever it takes. Trust your fellow goblins to keep you safe. If regular folks look at you funny, kick their teeth in so they won't want to chase after you in a hurry, and go to ground. Fill your home with cunning traps. Fuck 'em, look out for your own.

The world wants you dead, but you're clawing and spitting and snarling and still alive.

Hobgoblins are when these outlawsarm themselves and actively fight back. Guerillas, terrorists, militias, what have you. They cobble together uniforms, and stick the heads of those who'd oppress or exterminate them on spikes before fading back into the shadows. They're probably also orcs. Kobolds are when these outlaws are also dwarves, and have secret knowledge that mean you have to take them seriously, even while trying hard to get rid of them. Kobolds tend to be very good at building impregnable fortresses full of traps.

Dragons

"Personally strong enough to do whatever the fuck they want with no consequences." 

The rule of thumb is this: if you can walk into an average town by yourself and demand they give you tribute, and get it without any noteworthy resistance, you're a dragon.

You probably weren't a building-sized fire-breathing carnivorous flying lizard to begin with. But once you hit a certain level of power, you realise nothing's stopping you from turning into one if you want to, and there never was. 

Dragons shapeshift. They look like people, until they don't. Every one is a legend. Every one is unique.

Kings aren't dragons. Their power comes from systems of laws and heirarchy and custom meaning people choose to follow them. Wizards might be, as might particularly mighty warriors. Subtlety and subterfuge aren't particularly inclined towards making you a dragon, normally, but often somebody who excels in those areas will - when their back is to the wall - reveal that they were a dragon all along.

If you can personally reduce anybody who speaks back to you to two whisps of smoke coming from a pair of shoes (or a red smear), you're a dragon.

Some dragons do their best not to act like dragons. They try to be benevolent, to blend in with society, to only flex their power in emergencies. The rest - the majority, even - are problems.

A typical dragon ensures those who follow them are loyal by making dramatic examples. They tend to enjoy skull fortresses, big piles of treasure, and appending titles like 'the terrible' onto their name. 

People who set out to slay dragons generally fail. Those who succeed normally become dragons themselves. 

Elves become dragons disproportionately often. It's the focus that does it. They're often the most reasonable dragons.

Orcs do too. We call them black dragons, and they burn bright and furious, leading a horde of orcs behind them until they inevitably perish doing something exciting.

Goblins also produce a lot of dragons, particularly kobolds. A goblin who becomes a dragon is really good news (for the goblins and hobgoblins and kobolds and orcs of the world) and really bad news (for the sort of people who decided you were a goblin in the first place). These get called red dragons, because of all the blood that they leave behind.

Red dragons tend not to be inclined to be merciful to their enemies. Their followers, on the other hand, often do pretty well for themselves. When you have a red dragon on your side, you might not have to be a goblin for long.

Very successful kingdoms have been founded by a red dragon with a big dream.