#there are hands EVERYWHERE in DAV

[insane-li]

Ok but look at this picture I took in the game holy shit OP

“The failure was mine. I should pay the price…”

[g0ttal0ve101]

D.v.K

[a/n]: tsk tsk tsk…david, david, david…..you fumbled 👎 ( @sh1mmer-add1ct ) tw: gore

prt 1: riam

Everything felt warm and fuzzy. It was hard to tell what was reality versus his own imagination from the amount of alcohol he consumed that night, but he tried his best anyway. It was dark and smelled like cigarette smoke as the street lights passed above them, rain sprinkling against the windshield. Lucian sunk into his seat with a content smile as his seatbelt held him up, his head slipping from the headrest. It wasn’t until David’s hand reached his face that he snapped out of his daze.

“C’mon, baby. Sit up.”

Lucian hummed softly, stretching out and aligning himself with the seat properly. Only then did he turn his head to see David’s pretty face beside him, keeping his eyes on the slippery roads. Despite driving in such poor conditions, a smile was still stuck to his face. It made Lucian smile, too.

“You’re so fun when you’re drunk, Lucie.” David softly said, using his spare hand to caress Lucian’s thigh. “We’re almost home, okay?”

Lucian couldn’t remember if he said anything back. All he knew was that eventually he was walking in the parking lot hand-in-hand with David, heading toward their apartment complex. It was hard to walk in a straight line. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. That’s probably why David had his hand secured so tight, even if it hurt a little bit.

“Daaavid, I wanna press the elevator buuutton.”

Ruffling his hair up, David kissed his head. “You always do. What floor do we stay on, you remember?”

“Mffm…”

“What?”

Lucian laughed. “Nooope.”

“Dude, then how’re you gonna press it?”

“Beaaar, pleaaase tell me.”

“We live on the fifth floor. So you gotta click the button with five on it.”

Lucian nodded confidently. Although, he stumbled into the building and nearly fell onto his face before they even made it to the elevator doors. Upon stepping inside, David assisted him in pressing the button and held him close, grabbing him by his waist. Lucian leaned into his grasp. It felt good whenever he held him. At least, until his hand lowered to his ass. Then it didn’t feel so nice.

With furrowed eyebrows, Lucian grumbled a little. “Stooop. You weirdo.”

David only laughed. “Stop what? I’m not doing anything.”

Considering his current mental state, Lucian stopped fighting it and pressed his forehead against his chest, humming a little. David kissed his head again.

“That’s us. Come on.”

Nothing felt real. Lucian’s eyes went just about everywhere as they walked down the hallway, trying to recognize his surroundings even a little bit. He did once they made it to their door, but it still felt like he was in a dream rather than reality. David knew this, too. That’s why he helped him get ready for bed.

Lucian watched him take his clothes off first. It wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before, but for some reason, it felt like it was. He blinked slowly as David pulled on his pajama pants over his boxers, still showcasing his upper body. He looked hotter than usual — or maybe that was just the alcohol.

“Are you tired yet, baby?”

“Mmh…”

“Come on, you aren’t that drunk, are you?” David hummed while searching through a pile of laundry for Lucian’s pajamas. “Do you think you’re gonna throw up, honey?”

“Mfmm…”

“Hopefully that’s a no.”

Lucian couldn’t process much of anything. Even when David approached him, he had a hard time staying grounded in reality, having little to no idea what was happening. He let David strip him down as he always did whenever he was drunk like this since there wasn’t really a choice anyhow. However, no matter how much alcohol was in his system, he almost immediately took notice of how long it was taking for the clothes to return. Laying across the cool mattress in just his boxers and his boyfriend hovering over him, adrenaline pumped through his veins.

With a pair of pajamas in his hands, David’s eyes wandered over Lucian for a long while. It didn’t bother him all too much. Not until he watched David move closer without being in position to dress him.

“…David?”

It was almost pitiful hearing how much anxiety and confusion was embedded in that name. Almost. Lucian knew all too well that whatever happened to him from this point forward was entirely his fault. Maybe not in the present moment, but the sober Lucian had already accepted this fate when he popped open the first bottle. He trusted David enough to take care of him, but he understood that there might be temptation. There always seemed to be.

“I’m cold…” He felt like he was talking in slow-motion. All his words slurred together into one big mess. “I…please want my pajamas, David. Please…want it…”

David’s calloused hand met his bare chest and trailed across his pec. He shuddered from the touch, but continued to look him in the eyes nevertheless.

“Can I look at you first, Lucian? Just look…”

“Mmh, sweetheaaart…”

“Can I?”

Lucian stared at him like a deer in headlights. Grabbing his chin with a harsh squeeze against his cheeks, David lifted his face to deeply look in his eyes.

“Come on, baby. Please?”

Lucian bit his lip a little and turned away. “Okay…”

David’s definition of “just looking” differed from Lucian’s. Hearing the verbal consent given to check him out, David took it upon himself to cop a few touches, too. Nothing too crazy. His fingertips came dangerously close to the elastic of Lucian’s boxers before he reeled back, hearing the sharp breaths of discomfort that came from Lucian. Other than that, he did his part to stay respectful — not that Lucian would remember if he did or not.

Wavering in and out of consciousness, Lucian came to the realization that his legs were wrapped around David’s waist, fully pulling him into standing between his thighs. He didn’t remember letting him in such an intimate position. Either way, he had a dreadful feeling that he knew where this was going.

He didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t much he could do without making a scene — God knows how much David hated it whenever he made a scene.

“Can I kiss you, honey?”

Lucian couldn’t process the words fast enough before their lips met. It was an eager kiss, but not enough to set off any panic within him. Their interwoven breaths felt like heaven. That isn’t to mention the feeling of his fingers sinking into David’s hair while pulling him in. It felt good.

Pulling away for a second, David laughed into their next kiss. “You taste good. I might get drunk off you.”

“Bear…” Lucian whined, trying to sit up but finding himself being pinned down on the mattress again. It was no use fighting against him. What he wanted, he got.

“Stay for a little longer, Lucie. Please?”

He might’ve said something else. Lucian couldn’t hear it. His vision grew blurry as he rocked his head back, feeling himself slip away into a state of unconsciousness again. David didn’t seem to notice. At least, not until he grabbed Lucian’s head and forced it back up.

With a gasp, his eyes widened as he came to reality again. David chuckled at his reaction and pressed their lips together to wake him up more. Lucian wrapped his arms around his shoulders with his eyes open, trying desperately not to fall asleep.

His state of consciousness strengthened in mere seconds upon feeling the elastic of his boxers beginning to lower further down his petite hip bones. He pulled away from David’s lips to see the scene unfold with his own two eyes, tensing up so much that it was nearly impossible to overlook his discomfort. If it wasn’t for his frozen limbs, his eyes and face were a dead giveaway.

Before he was entirely exposed, Lucian grabbed at David’s wrists to prevent him from pulling the fabric down further. They locked steady eye contact. David’s eyes were just as beautiful as they always were.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll be gentle.”

Lucian was able to verbalize himself louder and clearer this time, his fear causing him to sober up in the moment. “Not ready…I’m not ready…”

With a laugh and scoff, David’s eyes grew just a little colder. “You’re never gonna be ready if you just keep avoiding it forever.”

His hands were still in position to make that last pull. Lucian looked at his fingers grasping the grey fabric of his boxers then back at him, swallowing hard against the aching lump in the back of his throat.

“I just wanna make you feel good, honey…”

“What do you…waaanna do?” Lucian’s voice was practically a whisper as he genuinely considered forcing himself into it.

He hated even the slightest thought of performing any sex acts ever again. But with his loving boyfriend’s eager, pitiful eyes burning into him…

“Can I suck it?”

Lucian shuddered and turned away. It was painfully obvious how that idea made him feel. Laughing a little, David playfully smacked him.

“Not even that? C’mon, Lucie. You need to loosen up a bit. Want another drink?”

His vision slightly blurred as he sat up straighter, trying to catch a better view of his boyfriend’s expression. Either one of his hands met David’s freckled cheeks as he closed in for what seemed like another kiss.

“Just kiss meee…”

“Baby, it’ll make you feel nice. Don’t you think you deserve to feel nice?”

Lucian whined, trying to straighten out all the jumbled thoughts in his mind while getting the right words out. He grabbed at his hair and yanked it a little, trying his best to keep his composure.

“I don’t want to…”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t feel good.”

David dropped onto his knees. All Lucian could think about was how close his face was to his boxers. Even after all his pushing, Lucian evidently wasn’t turned on. That alone was an abstract concept to David — usually he was able to make a guy hard with just a few seconds of sweet talk and specific hand placement. But Lucian, on the other hand, was immune. It would almost be laughable if it didn’t bother him as much as it did.

Sweeping the back of Lucian’s kneecaps onto his shoulders, David grabbed at his thighs and moved indefinitely closer between his legs. Lucian could only look at him with a pale, dazed face.

“I’ll make you feel good, Lucian.”

I’ll make it feel good, Bunny.

Those words were already spoken into existence by another before him. A sweet, intoxicating lie that put him one step closer to getting his pleasure. David genuinely meant it, of course, but Lucian couldn’t tell the difference either way. To him, it all sounded the same.

“You’re so sexy when you make that face.”

On the brink of tears, Lucian shook his head. “I-I…I want my pajamas…” He made sure to pronounce every syllable to the best of his ability. He still sounded drunk, but the ecstasy was far gone.

There was a dreadful silence. Lucian clenched his eyes shut tightly and prayed for this to all blow over. He hated it whenever David was upset and telling by the silence, he most definitely was. In a way, Lucian knew he had a reason to be distraught, but in another, he couldn’t understand it completely.

“You’re such a scaredy-cat, Lucie.”

David stood up and shoved him down, practically knocking the wind out of him. It hurt a little. Not enough to make him cry, so it didn’t matter.

“I have your pajamas for you now, m’kay? Don’t squirm.”

David pulled on his pants for him, tying them up tight so he wouldn’t be as nervous anymore, then kissed his tummy to lighten the mood. As for his shirt, he had Lucian lift his arms so he could pull it over his head before rubbing him down to “heat him up.” In reality, Lucian knew he was just trying to make him feel better. He laughed a little and leaned into his touch again, still dazed.

They locked eyes. David smiled.

“So, you still play hard to get when you’re all drunk, huh? Cute.”

Lucian bit his lip a little and looked away shamefully. Crawling to his side of the bed, his arms grew weak halfway and he collapsed in the middle of the mattress. With his face squished against the soft surface, he drowsily grasped the sheets for support. David laughed at him.

“David…” Lucian whined, curled up with his knees tucked into his chest and his head in his hands.

With a red face flushed from laughing so hard, David shifted to sit beside him. “Aww, you okay, baby?”

“Fmfm…”

Helping him to get adjusted under the covers, David smiled ear-to-ear. “You need to sleep, sweetheart.”

Lucian stretched out across the mattress again, yawning as if to respond to David’s previous words. As his hands felt up the sheets and under the pillows, he looked deeply into David’s eyes. They had that same eager glint in them.

Giggling groggily, Lucian allowed his eyes to shut again. “Why’re you…looking at meee?”

David pushed the hair from off his forehead to further console him and get his point across. “I think you know why.”

Lucian pulled his hands from out of underneath the pillows, blinking slowly and holding them up in front of his face. There, hung a golden necklace dangling in his grasp. David’s expression remained unwavered. At least, until Lucian examined it closer.

“R…?” Lucian murmured, reading the initial of the charm. He cocked his eyebrows up and looked back at David. “I don’t even have a R in my name…where’d you—?”

David snatched it from his hand. Lucian flinched from the sheer force.

“I don’t know where it came from either.” His voice was low, as if to warn Lucian not to press on the matter. He tossed the jewelry onto the nightstand and laid down beside Lucian, who stared at him blankly. “I love you so much.”

Lucian, slowly beginning to feel the weight of reality again, smiled weakly. “I love you too.”

His arms weren’t open for an embrace, so David forced them to spread apart before wrapping his arms around his waist. Lucian shuddered and firmly pressed his hands against David’s chest as if to tell him to chill out. It didn’t work in his favor as much as he wanted.

Leaving hickeys on his neck and coping another touch or two, David returned to his usual routine. Lucian continued to stare at the jewelry resting on the nightstand, trying to come up with some explanation as to how it ended up stuffed in their mattress like that, but nothing came of it. He knew all too well how it got there — he just didn’t have the heart to believe David would betray him so cruelly.

“Do you want me to stop?”

The words jumbled in his mind like slop as he tried to comprehend what it was he had whispered to him. “…Huh?”

“You’re getting all tense.”

“…I’m okay,” Lucian assured him. He pushed David’s head back into position to kiss him all over, holding him close with eyes full of sorrow. “Mmh…just don’t touch down there again…”

“Okay.”

But even with him setting that boundary, Lucian couldn’t help but feel like he was in a stranger’s embrace.

/—/—/—/—/—/—/—\—\—\—\—\—\—\

“It hurts…!”

Lucian stuck the stun gun into his gaping wound again. The electric shock sent waves of spasms throughout the man’s body as his jaw fell open, his lips unable to hold the access drool that came from his throat. With his thumb on the accelerator, Lucian debated whether to max the device’s power now or wait for a little longer. His agonizing face was enough to give him butterflies.

Pulling away, Lucian rested his back against the chair to relax his aching shoulders. Leaning over all day hadn’t been so kind to him. He watched as the man collapsed to the floor in a puddle of his own blood, panting heavily.

“Why am I doing this?” Lucian hummed.

“I raped my wife,” the man admitted for the hundredth time, hoping to find some mercy by embracing his failure. “I…I know I deserve this, but—!”

“Then stop complaining.”

Blood squirted from the gash in the man’s stomach as he rammed the weapon inside his flesh once more. The pain was so intense that he was unable to make a sound, completely deaf and blind from the electrical stimulation his body obtained. Without context, it appeared he was having a seizure or a stroke — a death too gentle for him. His body continued trembling even after Lucian removed the gun, numb from the state of shock he was in.

Lucian stared at him and felt nothing.

The sound of footsteps from the top of the stairwell brought a smile to Lucian’s face as he wiped the sweat from his forehead and stood up to greet the visitor. The man, still in a state of shock, was unable to move.

With two bags in either hand, full of presents he wanted to give Lucian, Kai made it down the last step with bubbly footing. He twirled around once or twice and Lucian giggled, approaching him to help with the weight of the bags.

“There you are, pretty kitty…” Lucian purred, planting a kiss on his freckled cheek. “I missed you.”

They set the bags down by the huge furnace considering all the tables were already filled up with body parts and weapons. Shortly after freeing his hands, Kai wrapped his arms tightly around his waist, practically jumping on top of him. Lucian held him tightly as he always did.

“You’re all bloody!” Kai giggled, tracing his fingertips along the trail of blood to collect some of it.

With a heavy sigh, Lucian nodded. “Well, I’ve been working on this guy for an hour…”

In response to hearing a referral to his existence, the man’s eyes lifted from the ground. Kai tilted his head and locked eye contact with him, blinking rapidly a few times to take in the whole scene. He then licked the blood from his fingers slowly, approaching the victim with a sly smile.

“Mmh, what kind is it?” Kai bubbled, kneeling in front of him to see his face better. The man tried to hide away by lowering his head, but Kai yanked him by his hair to see his full expression.

“You can ask him,” Lucian said softly. “He knows better than I do.”

Kai smiled. The man shuddered.

“What did you do, huhhh?” His voice was childish, almost endearing as he spoke. And for that reason alone, the man believed him to be more merciful than Lucian.

“H-Help me…” he pleaded airlessly. “Please, please…”

Kai laughed. “Help you? Why would I do that?”

Sobbing hysterically, the man grabbed onto Kai’s knee. It took less than a second for him to pull out a blade and stick it right against his throat.

“Don’t fucking touch me, you manwhore.”

Lucian pouted with his arms folded against his chest tightly. He didn’t step in no matter how much he wanted to — Kai liked playing around like this. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t add onto the conversation.

“Especially since you’re a fucking rapist.”

Kai’s eyes widened. The man hiccuped on his tears.

“A rapist, huh? You raped somebody?”

“His own wife.”

“Wow! You’re such a big shot, huh? You’re so tough! You’re the man, aren’t you?”

In a fleeting moment, words came from the man’s mouth unfiltered. “I didn’t do it, you fucking psychopaths! I didn’t fucking do it! You don’t have any proof! You don’t—!”

Lucian stomped his head into the ground. Holding his head down with his foot, he laughed a little with a crazed look in his eye. “You didn’t do it? That’s not what you were saying before, silly. So which one is it? Did you do it or did you not?”

“I…she wanted it. She wanted it, I-I could tell she wanted it!”

“She was blackout drunk.”

“She wanted it!”

“I’ll tell you this much. I’ve been blackout drunk many, many, many times before. There’s absolutely no way you can consent to anything like that. You don’t know what’s going on and when you do, you can’t do anything to stop it. So no, she didn’t want it and you raped her.”

Lucian released his foot from the back of his head. The man refused to lift it back up.

Yanking it up again, Kai forced him to look at both of them as he laughed like it was a big joke. Lucian’s eyes couldn't have held more hatred in them as he watched the man’s every move.

“Every man should take after you, Lucian. You’re the best.”

That snapped him out of his glare almost immediately. Blushing a little with a smile, Lucian shrugged. “I don’t think so…I’m just doing what anyone else would do…”

“Nah, you’re the best. I love you so much.”

Lucian smiled weakly. “I love you too, Kai.”

“You look sort of sleepy. Sit down, I’ll finish it off, okay?”

With a nod, Lucian rolled his shoulders back with a soft hum. “Okay, baby. I’ll be right here.”

The man felt it before he saw it. With a swift kick into his open ribcage, Kai dug the heel of his combat boot right into his heaving lungs. He shattered another rib from the impact, causing him to lurch forward and vomit. He hadn’t eaten for days, so all that his body was able to regurgitate was stomach acid. That only seemed to piss Kai off more.

“…You’re so silly, Lu.” Kai turned his head slowly to meet Lucian’s gaze. “Why didn’t you take his eyes out first? He doesn’t deserve to look at you.” He leaned forward to whisper in the man’s ear. “Sick bitches like you get boners watching him stab a knife in your belly.”

“Grab whatever you want. I have them all laid out for you.” Lucian pointed in the direction of the weaponry table, watching his boyfriend with a dreamy glint in his eyes. It was exciting to see what he’d grab for the occasion. (Kai had a particular taste in the tools he used depending on the situation.)

The man writhed in his own blood, screaming and extorting his body in every direction in an attempt to escape his binds. Annoying, but they usually were at the end. Lucian sighed lovingly as he watched Kai take his time and play with every weapon. It was like watching a kid in a candy store.

“Bunny, can you do me a lil’ favor?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Will you hold its head still for me? Pleaseee?”

The dehumanization he used when referring to the rapist bloomed butterflies in his stomach. Obeying without a doubt crossing his mind, Lucian made his way back over, grabbing the guy’s head and kneeling down behind him. He struggled. Lucian’s fingernails sunk into the sides of his face.

From the glimpses Lucian got, he knew the weapon Kai chose was small and shiny. A knife, maybe. But when he pulled it out, Lucian couldn’t have been more surprised.

“A boxcutter?” Lucian laughed with a silly grin. He didn’t mind the struggle of the man at all. “I must’ve accidentally left that over there…”

“It makes it special then. If Lulu used it, I wanna use it too,” Kai purred cheekily. Grabbing the man’s chin, he made eye contact with him for the final time. “Isn’t he so wonderful? Lucian’s just the best.”

He started with his eyes, ripping them out of the sockets in what felt like slow motion. Next he moved to the tongue, the nose, the cheeks, and the ears. Shaving his face off with such an ordinary utensil only made this process more entertaining. The best form of entertainment was Kai’s performance. His slick movements, his sadistic laughter, his facial expressions — Lucian couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Kai stabbed him in the stomach twelve times and in the chest seven times. He was dead long before the last strike was over, but that’s not what either of them were focused on. The penetration of the blade syncing up with the elongated eye contact they shared created a silent sensation within the both of them. Lucian recognized it all too well. He knew Kai probably didn’t understand it.

Blood stained Lucian’s porcelain skin head to toe as he released the corpse and wrapped his arms around himself, almost as if to hide from Kai’s gaze. It was a useless gesture.

“You’re so cute, Lulu. C’mere.”

Kai grabbed him by the chin, gently squishing his cheeks. Lucian struggled to look him in the eyes, blushing profusely. They kissed as Lucian stood up, wrapping his arms around Kai’s shoulders to steady himself. When he felt Kai poke the tip of the blade against the tender flesh of his stomach, however, he tensed up a little and backed away. It took less than a second for Kai to stop pursuing him, dropping the boxcutter and directing his attention to Lucian’s feelings.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He lowered his hands to play with the bottom of his shirt, evidently embarrassed. “I guess I’m just not in the mood right now…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, honey.”

Lucian fell in love with him all over again. For some reason, those words made Lucian feel happier than ever before. He wasn’t sure why. Kai had always been this sweet and understanding — it wasn’t a first. But even then, he still hadn’t learned to become accustomed to the feeling.

Kai kissed him again. Lucian giggled into it.

Pulling away, Kai held both his hands lovingly, caressing them with his thumbs. “Let’s go upstairs. I wanna wash your hair out this time. Pleaaase?”

Lucian blinked a few times before realizing how bloody they both were. Laughing a little, he nodded and followed him up the steps.

“As long as I can wash your hair, kitty.”

“I like it when you wash my hair. You scratch my head really nice.”

“If you stop tearing off your fingernails, you could scratch it yourself, silly…”

“Naaah. It’s too much fun. And it feels better when you do it anyway.”

“Kaiii…”

“I’ll rub your shoulders for you, too.”

Lucian sighed lovingly. “Would you, baby?”

“Mhmmm. As long as I can get a little taste.”

With soft laughter, Lucian batted his eyelashes dreamily. “As always.”

[midnightwind]

apparently I made this document back in 2014! good lord! it might've gotten some polish when I poked it again in 2020 though lol please enjoy this blast from the past as a hold over for my DAV fic

Summary: After delving into the Deep Roads, Warden Surana tries to reconcile the horrors with the help of her newest recruit, an Antivan Crow sent to kill her

Warnings: Allusion to body horror (Darkspawn origins are not nice), brief suicidal ideation

Word Count: 4609

-After Orzammar

She couldn’t see them, but she could hear their claws scraping earth and stone. Their low growls and grunts echoed in the dark and she clutched her staff tightly. One flash of their eyes, a simple glint of steel, was all she needed. Her ears were twitching, trying to follow the sounds to no avail. They were everywhere and nowhere. The air was so stale with their stench she was choking on it. Or was it the walls closing in that was forcing her breaths out in short, quick gasps?

Her back hit solid, warm stone and her staff almost clattered to the floor. Panic made her hands shake and the only thought she could form was to attack. If she just threw her magic out, it didn’t matter if her enemies couldn’t be seen. The familiar electric hum radiated out from her chest, dancing through her veins and concentrating in her hands. The staff sparked, sputtered, and was silent.

True panic seized her. Her magic had never failed her. How could it? It was a core part of her being, how could it not work? She shook the staff dumbly as if suddenly the spell would be let loose by the motion. She realized too late, too slow, that she had wasted time she didn’t have. They were on her. Teeth like needles with lips scraped away clamping down, claws ripping through her skin, magic buzzing through her skull and tearing her thoughts apart. Her mouth opened to scream, the world silent.

“Warden?”

She shot upright, her bedroll tangling her limbs. Low firelight sent dancing shadows through her tent and she could barely make out the large silhouette standing in the open flap. A glint of steel over their shoulder had electricity dancing around her before it was pushed back into its sheath. Zevran took a few more quiet steps inside, looking around in confusion. The tent was totally empty save for the two. Magic still sizzled in the air from her nerves, her brain straining to process being awake from the nightmare. She thought the assassin had come to finish the job in the first few panic filled seconds.

“Are you alright, dear Warden?” His voice was just barely above a whisper, the words twisted slightly with his odd lilt. “I heard scuffling. At first I thought you were just having fun, but then I hadn’t seen anyone sneak into your tent. No one else is really, ah, quiet around here like I am. Decided to make sure a Shriek or such hadn’t followed us to camp. Hopefully I did not overstep?”

Finally detangled she pushed her hair out of her eyes, the magic sparking one last time before she exhaled and calmed her nerves. “No, no. Um, thank you. For checking. I’m, uh, I’m okay. Just a bad dream.”

He gave her a small nod of understanding. “Well, if sleep continues to elude and you desire company there is always room around the fire. Or in my tent, but something tells me not tonight, hm?”

The usual dry wit got a single huff of amusement from her as he ducked back outside. Scrubbing her hands over her face, she sat in the silence and repeated a breathing exercise. If it worked to calm her down for classes, it would work out here, too. She thought she had started getting used to life on the road, to the danger and the adventure. These were the first nightmares she’d had about the Blight that hadn’t been caused by the taint. She deflated with a sigh. It had been the Deep Roads, of that she had no doubt. It had been a miserable and disturbing crawl through the tunnels. They had gained the dwarven armies for it, sure, but it didn’t erase what the bowels of the earth had held. 

Her hands still stung from all the magic she had used to get her small party through it. She had thought the dwarves would be the easiest contract to fulfill since they already knew about the darkspawn. Maker, how wrong she had been. She just hoped putting the prince on the throne hadn’t been the worst idea ever. At least he was eager to help. Squirming free of her bed, she pushed aside the pile of scrolls and books that decorated her tent to find her staff. The familiar feel of the weapon helped chase away the last wisps of the dream as she crawled outside.

The night was crisp, the cold of the mountains following them into the foothills still. Zevran was the only one up, poking the fire absently as his gaze swept over the clearing. The moon lit what the fire couldn’t reach, the stars winking down at them. It was a pretty enough night, but not close enough to dawn to warrant her wakefulness. Another defeated sigh escaped her. She would be exhausted when they finally moved on then. The rogue had turned to face her as she settled next to him, resting her staff on her knees.

“No sleep, then.” He hummed. “You know, I think you’ll find me a very good listener should you wish to talk.”

Her fingers traced the etchings of the wood, eyes watching the fire dance in the crystal orb at the end of the staff and giving him silence. Alistair’s usual snores were drowned out by Oghren’s, a feat the mage hadn’t thought possible until now. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds. The fire crackled, a log breaking, and she could feel the heat as the flames jumped for a moment. A gentle wind had the leaves dancing, crickets chirping and a lone owl calling out. A quiet sloshing of liquid had her blinking open her eyes, the peace of the night replaced with confusion.

The rogue had a bottle in hand, back to looking out at the forest and she almost spluttered. “Are you drinking, while on watch?”

The usual crooked smile returned though he didn’t look her way. “Ah, how rude of me. Would you like some?”

She simply shook her head. “No, it just seems a stupid combination of actions. I know you might be new to this whole ‘group’ thing, but getting pissed while being the lookout is very bad. Tsk tsk.”

The sarcasm earned her a short laugh as he turned to look at her. “I see my mistake now, yes. I should be drunk before my shift starts. Thank you for the tip.” The fire made his gold eyes almost glow, humor dancing in them. He rested an elbow on his knee and his chin on his open palm. “Tell me, dear Warden, what keeps you awake tonight? Did you drift off thinking how awful life would be without a dashing rogue to spice it up? Sounds absolutely dreadful.”

She nudged his leg with her staff, a weak smile on her lips. “I’m sure you wish it so. Nothing so blissfully simple, no. I don’t have a delightful tale to spin you and doubt you care for tales of nightmares.”

“You may be surprised by what I care about, Warden.”

The warmth in his voice had her looking down at her staff as a blush tinged her cheeks. Her hand reached for his drink and he gave it willingly. He clicked his tongue as she set it down on the other side of her. “If we’re going to have any sort of heart to heart here, I’d rather alcohol weren’t involved.”

“If you tasted it, you would know it was mostly water. That Fereldan merchant sold me awful spirits.” He shrugged as he leaned back, getting comfy by the fire. “Such a shame.”

“I’ll add liquor to the shopping list, right above the frilly doilies.” She snorted, earning her another rueful chuckle. “But… Tell me, how much do you know of Orzammar?”

“This doesn’t sound like your nightmare, unless you have a phobia of short, fat people.” His musing was met with a vague wave of her hand, dismissing the jab. “As you wish. I know it to be the city of dwarves, built into the mountains. I know it was where you found Loghain’s men who, and I quote, were told to ‘run home to their master like dogs.’ Sending your regards to the man wanting you dead? Very ballsy.”

“Mm, yes. Apparently the first group I sent whimpering back did a poor job delivering the message.”

He barked a short laugh. “You are full of surprises, Warden. Ahh, what else…” He was making a show of thinking now, humming until she pushed against his shoulder. “Hm! Right! They are not fond of letting non-dwarves inside so I stopped asking questions about the city and focused more on catching you leaving it. If you left at all.”

She hunched forward, staring into the fire. Her voice was quiet and small. “The current city of dwarves sits on the edges of a large network of tunnels. The Deep Roads. I don’t think there’s a map that contains every twist and wretched crack that makes it up. To secure our allies, we had to venture very far into them. Had to find a dwarf and her madman quest.” She spat into the fire, a deep scowl settling on her lips. “Branka was mental, she sacrificed her friends and allies to the darkspawn just to find this stupid anvil. I broke the damned thing after we killed her. It ripped the souls out of people to make golems. I couldn’t let it exist.”

He tutted at that, shaking his head. “Well that seems a waste. You need an army and, unless the tales are false, golems make the best soldiers. Why not let the insane little rock make you the best army you can have?”

The look of fury that she snapped on him had his hand twitching for the daggers on his back. He had seen her mad during battle, spitting venom at the men Loghain had scouring the roads for them. The quiet anger as she beheld the desolation left by the Darkspawn he had thought was the worst she could pull. He had been wrong. Never had he seen such pure rage in her eyes.

“Would you like to have your being torn from your body, shoved into a rock, and forced to obey a monkey waving a stick until the end of time? Tell me, would you like to be in a cage of a body with no escape? Does that sound fun and amazing to you?”

The assassin held his hands out in surrender, clearing his throat nervously as her magic sparked along the staff. “Point made, dear Warden. Point very clearly and well made.”

He saw her literally deflate at that, folding into herself and resting her forehead on her knees. She clutched the staff so tightly her knuckles were white. “You would think having to navigate magical death traps and golems for a crazy dwarf would be the worst part of it, right?” A morose, empty laugh vibrated through her. “Oh no, Maker, no. There was much worse. Do you know how a Darkspawn is made?”

“I… just assumed they were spawned by the demons they worship or some such. I never gave it much thought.”

“I know how they are made.” She whispered, shivering despite the fire at her feet. “That knowledge haunts me. They kidnap people, normal people like you and me. Men are eaten usually, bit by bit, day by day. That’s merciful. The women? Tortured, violated, turned. We killed a broodmother before we found Branka. It had once been one of her companions. She was using it to spawn fodder to disarm the traps. Traveling the tunnels after that was worse. I would wake at every scuffle, every scrape, every hiss. I thought I was going to be dragged off in the dark and gnawed on until I became of them too. Maker, do you know the most terrifying part of it?”

Her only answer was a soft, questioning hum.

“We saw the archdemon. I heard it screeching in my head. It was like a rock flying through glass. I was shattered. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t stand. Morrigan more or less peeled me off of the floor after. That monster could have ended this entire quest if it had just glanced over its shoulder. My decision to enter the Deep Roads almost doomed Fereldan.” Her shoulders were shaking with her breaths, borderline sobbing now.

She jumped slightly as she felt his hand gently touch her back, giving her a slow motion to focus on instead of the awful thoughts. In the weeks since she had recruited him, it was the first time he had touched her without asking some form of permission. When was the last time someone had physically comforted her like this? The realization made her want to cry all over again. It felt like a lifetime ago, she didn’t even remember what had upset her, but it had been Jowan patting her shoulder and telling her it would be okay. How desperately she wished she was back in her cage of a home, a simple mage fresh from apprenticeship with her best friend at her side. She missed it so much her heart ached. Everything had gone wrong so fast and it felt like she was just finally coming up for air.

Zevran had his arm snaked around her shoulders now, the mage leaning against him as she stifled the tears. It wasn’t quite a hug, some wall keeping it from closing in completely, but Maker was it helping. She closed her eyes forcing herself to focus on the things around her to keep from drowning. The forest still carried on its private concert, the fire cracking and popping, but now, as her cheek pressed against his chest, she could hear his heartbeat, the quiet sighs of his breathing. He smelled of leather, which was no surprise, and woodsmoke from watch, the forest still clung from their march through the hills, but there was an odd scent underneath it all. It wasn’t anything she knew, probably some spice or other from Antiva, but it was warm and sharp and made her think of idle summer days.

“Tell me, Warden,” his voice made a pleasant vibration through his chest, “what was your exact reasoning for going into the Deep Roads?”

She pulled in a shaking breath. “Bhelen wanted a Paragon to back his claim to the throne. He wanted Branka and she had disappeared into the tunnels. It was dangerous. If we found her, brought back proof he was the right choice, then he would give us armies once he was king.”

“And why, pray tell, did you choose to support Bhelen?” He asked softly.

“Because…” Her brows furrowed. “Because I didn’t like the caste system. I didn’t like people being punished for how they were born, who they were borne by, what they wanted to do with their lives. Their slum, Dust Town, was so deeply sad. They hadn’t done anything to warrant that life. Bhelen wanted to abolish that system, so I chose him.”

A chuckle gently shook her as he laughed. “You went into that hell, almost died for it, because you had the chance to help people.”

Indignation sparked in her, a small lick of flame in her being. “Well, yes. I had the power and resources to change things.”

“Do you regret going?”

“I... suppose not.” Her answer was small and quiet.

“You are a wonder. Compassionate and beautiful.” He hummed. “Now you have had a lesson in self preservation. An unfortunate lesson, yes, but an important one nonetheless. If I were you, I would rejoice that you succeeded in your bid to help people and focus on how to do so better in the future. Maybe with less trauma, hm?” A wet laugh escaped the mage as she rubbed her eyes. “You may be surprised just how many people you save with that kind heart.”

She was sniffling against him, happy for once that he couldn’t see her face. The tips of her ears were probably tinged red with the blush his words caused, but she was glad for them. It made her feel less helpless and clueless anyways. They sat in a gentle silence, part of her scared he would relinquish the embrace should she speak. This was the most vulnerable state she had gotten the assassin to show and she didn’t want to let it go easily. His hand had wandered to toy with her hair, pulling it back so his fingers could trace from temple to ear. A shiver ran through her before she could stop it. She could almost feel the crooked grin that accompanied his soft laugh.

“Cold?” He asked coyly, “It is understandable. Your home country is quite chilly.”

“You are a menace.” She pouted.

“The very best kind.” His fingers made one more track through her hair before his hand dropped back to her shoulder. “But! My watch is almost finished and then I shall have to wake Sten and surrender a beautiful woman back into the clutches of monsters. Unless I could offer you sanctuary within my tent?”

“Oh, Zev…”

“I will happily be your pillow tonight, or whatever you desire me to be.” He purred.

A sigh escaped her as she pulled away from his embrace to look at him. He had cocked an eyebrow in invitation, smiling devilishly. She cupped his face in one hand, kissing his cheek softly.

“I’m not against sleeping with you. You’re witty and charming and very pleasing to look at. Sharing a tent tonight would be a very good remedy to my fears, but if I may be a bit blunt?” Her lips were pressed into a thin line as he inclined his head. “I really do not want sex tonight. So if you’re content with just being a pillow and general comfort, then I will happily accept.”

The frustration was plain on his face, but there was a fondness as well. “This pillow hugs back, and is fond of sneaking kisses. I am but a word away should you desire more, always. There are, after all, many uses for a pillow besides sleep.” He grinned at the deep flush his comment caused, ducking the swing of her staff. Safely disengaging, he gave a flourishing bow towards his tent. “The door is open for you, mi amore. I shall be just a moment. The stern rock will be cross if I don’t properly end my shift.”

She watched his jaunty steps for a moment longer until his head disappeared into Sten’s tent. With a sigh, she stood and dusted herself off before finally turning to face his tent, his drink in hand. He had pitched it on the outskirts, far too aware that many in the group didn’t trust him still. Part of her didn’t trust him either, scared he was playing a very long game with her, but they needed every shred of help they could get. He was very good at killing, which was quite helpful when you had monsters and armies hunting you. Plus, when she wasn’t worrying about where he was burying his daggers, he was a breath of fresh air in the group. He wasn’t pushing her to fulfill his own agenda, or lecturing her about her use of magic, or being a silent, terrifying statue, or negging her about their duty. He told her silly stories, made her feel like a normal person, got her to genuinely laugh. It was nice.

He had seemed earnest when she held his life in her hands back at the botched ambush. When they had been confronted by more of Loghain’s dogs he had fought at her side instead of burying his knife in her ribs and following them back for his gold. The following weeks had given him plenty of openings to kill her and walk away, and he had watched them all pass by. Maybe he was simply biding his time, waiting for the perfect kill. She wanted to hope that wasn’t the case, she was rather fond of him already. So she would take the gamble of sharing a tent with him, and hope the honesty wasn’t a ruse. Distantly, the low rumble of Sten’s voice could be heard, followed by Zevran’s lilt. She couldn’t understand them, but she could imagine what antics the Crow would use to swap shifts. With a grin she slipped into his tent.

It wasn’t large, but he had furnished it with a small chest, some few flasks and glass bottles, and a pile of furs. She wasn’t going to snoop, not truly, but she did pick up a few of the glass trinkets. One reeked of tanning liquids, making her wonder if the assassin tanned hides in his spare time. Another was just alcohol and she carefully put it back. It was a stronger brew than he had been drinking at the fire for sure, and she placed the confiscated bottle next to it. A few didn’t have strong scents, but were definitely odd colors. Poisons mayhaps, which made sense considering their owner. The last answered where the warm spiced scent she had smelled on him earlier came from. A cologne from Antiva? She would have to ask him about it. With a furtive glance at the tent’s flap, and a wandering thought of where he was, she carefully pulled at the furs. He had spread his bedroll under them, adding to the cushion and she found herself envious of the setup. If they had extra gold in the next town, she may have to steal the idea.

Gathering a few choice furs in her arms, she buried her face in them. They smelled like him, she relished, sinking into the rest of the bed. It was warm, smelled like summer, and already the night’s chill was fleeing. She could fall asleep just like this, letting out a contented sigh.

“You certainly look settled in.”

She jumped, a hand flying to her heart at his voice. He was grinning at her from the tent flap, arms crossed. His ability to move silently was uncanny. With an indignant huff she wiggled further into the fur, turning her back to him as she curled up. She let her eyes watch his shadow for a moment before the tent closed and they were plunged into a more even darkness. The chest creaked open, a shuffling of gear being removed and stored inside. The following silence caused her nerves to tangle, part of her still scared of him. He managed to pull another startled jump from her as he dragged a finger delicately across her neck. She hadn’t heard him approach again.

“You are very trusting of the man sent to kill you.” He chuckled, breath tickling her ear.

“Well,” she started, her voice only wavering a little, “you have had plenty of time to kill me if you still desired. I’m not going to keep jumping at my shadow because you’re around.”

“I think you may be the only one.” He mused, an arm snaking under the furs and around her waist.

Her retort died at the contact, blushing furiously. She knew what she was getting into, her mind argued, trying to convince herself she could handle whatever he threw at her. And then he pulled her snug against his chest and she wasn’t so sure anymore. When he nuzzled her neck, she clutched at the furs just to give herself something to focus on. She finally pushed him away, straightening suddenly as he pressed a kiss to her bare skin. Her heart was in her throat, cheeks burning red. He let her pull away, not commenting at her hitched breaths. She covered her face with her hands, letting out a strangled sigh. After a few moments she peeked through her fingers, over her shoulder.

Zevran was perched on his side, caramel eyes amused, but asking. The furs had slid down to his waist, displaying a bare chest with the bold black tattoos she had only seen hints at before. She covered her face again, pulling a laugh from him earnestly as she turned away again.

“This is very cute, I will admit. You react so quickly I fear it will be quite a test to resist ravishing you tonight.” His voice was low, humming with contained mirth. “I want to promise that I won’t go further, but…”

She pulled in a shaking breath to steady herself, tamping down the embarrassment. Twisting around to face him, she placed a firm hand on his chest to preserve a small stretch of distance. It took an annoying amount of willpower not to follow the alluring trap of his tattoos down, down… Instead she forced herself to meet his gaze. In the dim light his eyes glinted amber, that infuriating smirk back on his lips and an eyebrow cocked in question. This was not a fair fight and she almost pouted in frustration.

“I don’t want a distraction, nor do I wish to simply use you.” She finally sighed, brows furrowing. “I understand sex isn’t something sacred, and it’s very useful to you, but I’m not your mark anymore. I hope. And you’re not a new tool for me to take and discard as I please.” She hoped the smile she offered him was gentle enough to chase away the sharp edge that had appeared in his eyes. “Your company and wit have been a delight to have. I feel like I can earnestly laugh and see the light again with you. You’re a breath of fresh air to my world and I am loath to throw that away because of carnal desire. I want to know you better, foster this friendship more, and maybe we sleep together. Maybe it becomes more than just camaraderie. I’d like to wait, just a little, if that’s okay.”

He was silent for a moment before his hand brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, fingertips tracing the pointed tip. An amused hum vibrated his chest under her hand and he pulled her close enough to kiss her forehead. “Dear Warden, you are curious indeed.” With quick movements he pulled her snug against his chest, shifting onto his back so she was laying on him more than the furs. He held her with one arm in a warm hug, his free hand carding through her hair. She flushed at the contact, earning her another flash of teeth as he grinned in amusement. Almost petulantly she turned her head to the side, letting it rest fully on his chest. “Well,” his voice vibrated pleasantly against her ear, “I did say I would be your pillow tonight. Should more comfort be needed do not hesitate to ask.”

She smiled despite herself, allowing herself to snuggle against him only a little. The sound of his heartbeat and breathing chased away the lingering echoes of the Deep Roads, his gentle touches and the warm furs a constant reminder she was no longer trapped in suffocating rock. Steadily she could feel her eyes begin to droop as exhaustion set back in. How a man raised to kill without question could be so comforting was baffling to her. Maybe it was an effective tactic to lure a target in and maybe she should have been concerned over it, but she couldn’t find it in her. If this was to be her final hour she could think of several far worse and bloodier ways to die.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

For the song prompts - 17 and the Starblaster crew? (+ anyone else you wanna include)

17. “I swear to fucking God Chris, I’ll turn this fucking car around”

--

Davenport loved his family. He really did. Davenport would die for any of them. Though the whole thing with Lucretia had been... okay, well, Davenport still didn't know his feelings on that, but he knew what his feelings had once been and the fact remained the same: he would die for any of them, stupid bullshit plans aside. Did that mean he wanted to be near Lucretia? No. He really didn't. Did that mean- ugh. He was getting sidetracked.

Davenport loved his family, but he was really fucking regretting inviting them all on this cruise. His personal invitation had come in a gold-lined envelope, with a shimmery wax seal. The letter was from the captain of the Blade's Edge, a large, deluxe cruise ship that traveled through the Sea of Swords every two months. The cruise itself was about a week and he had been granted permission to bring along up to ten guests of his choice.

Really, he was used to getting offers like this. Once your name has been blasted into the heads of every single being in the planar system, it wasn't exactly unexpected to be invited literally everywhere. His name, which he already had mixed feelings about after what Luc- off-topic, off-topic, okay. His name being used as an attraction wasn't unusual at all. But Davenport rarely was home in time to answer these things anyway, and he had been wanting to catch up with everyone, sooooo.

"I swear to fucking God, Magnus, I will turn this ship around," Davenport said. Magnus was hanging from the railing of the ship, doing pull-ups for god knows what reason. If he had to take a guess, he would say it was because Lup told him he didn't have the balls to do it.

Lup herself had stopped watching, though Magnus hadn't seemed to have noticed yet. She had padded over to where Barry was laying under a canopy and Davenport honestly couldn't tell if Barry was blushing or if he was just really, really sunburned.

Davenport had passed Taako and Kravitz (who he had to invite, because how the hell was he supposed to get to know his future... crew member? In-law? His future grim reaper, who would presumably whisk him away into the land of the dead when it came time?) on his way over here, trying just about anything on the lunch menu.

Last he had seen Merle was at the waterslides, making very carefully unhooking Mookie from a child leash so he could go down a slide. Mavis was somewhere quiet, probably. Davenport did not envy him. He loved the kids but Mookie was very... well, he had Magnus-like energy and Davenport had his hands full with one Magnus already, thank you.

Lucretia was- well, Davenport didn't know where Lucretia was, but if he had to wager a guess, she'd probably be reading a travel guide somewhere or sunbathing. Or maybe both at once. Probably doing anything to avoid seeing the rest of them.

They should talk. But not right now and only if Magnus didn't give him a heart attack first.

"It's-" Magnus heaved himself up onto the railing again. A few people nearby, who seemed to be trying to hide the fact that they were looking (which was going very poorly) looked away. "It's not your ship, Cap."

"I will throw you off the side," Davenport said.

"Really?" Magnus said brightly. Bad threat, okay, time to backtrack.

"Not if you're gonna enjoy it!" Davenport said. "I'll, uh. I'll make you go read the travel guides with Lucretia."

"Oooh," Magnus said, wincing. "Low-blow, Dav."

"Just- just act like a normal guest," Davenport said. Magnus securely touched back down onto the desk, pouting. "That's all I'm asking. Just be normal."

"I'm so normal," Magnus said, stretching. He smelled like an entire gym. Davenport's nose wrinkled. Magnus must have noticed because he threw his hands into the air and said, "you try taking a shower when you have to wait for Taako to be done!"

"I did that for a hundred years-"

"But Taako didn't have a boyfriend, then."

"Point taken," Davenport said. "You could, uh, use the shower in my cabin? I- I guess?"

"Hmm," Magnus said, looking like he was actually considering it. "Yeah, I can do that. I will do that. And then we're gonna go get you a spot to relax. Not that you don't seem relaxed."

"I'm very relaxed," Davenport said, his heartrate about the same as it would be if the Hunger suddenly decided to attack again. "I love outings."

"Uh-huh," Magnus said. "I'll be right back. Don't move!"

He started jogging away. Davenport shouted to him,

"I'm gonna go sit down!"

"Don't move!" Magnus said. "Just give me like ten minutes!"

"I'm moving!"

"Fuck!"

[themockingcrows]

Doki Doki Grist Panic Ch. 4

Another chapter of my Magical Boy fic, sorry for such a long wait while I got my brain in order!

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802735/chapters/79562023

This chapter is sfw!

Soft, repetitive beeps were the first things Dave heard when he woke. The whirring of machinery, of a barely there fan spinning in a metal case. He’d know the sounds of technology anywhere, used to the hum and breath of his own computer tower in his room. Nothing was overheating, the room was a comfortable temperature, just warm enough to feel cozy where his skin touched itself at the crooks of his elbows and the backs of his legs. He was aware he was lying on his side, but it was so hard to wake up. Opening his eyes felt far too difficult, let alone moving his limbs. Dave settled for a fingertip stroking at what felt like a blanket or sheet beneath his body and sighed a breath exhaustedly.

It wasn’t fully dark in the room. He must have left his lamp on at the desk and taken a nap, or the door was open somewhat to let in light from the hallway and living room. He didn’t hear anything from the front room, Bro must be napping as well or doing something with his headphones on at his computer. Maybe dinner was cooking, or he was waiting for something to be delivered, indulging in his free time doing this or that. It was a comfortable silence. Dave blinked a few slow times before taking in the strange blue tone to the room’s light, cooler than his usual warm home light. Bulb change? Slowly he rubbed at his face and slid to his back, wanting to stare at the ceiling so he could come back to himself more and wake up properly.

This wasn’t his ceiling.

Instead of the textured white ceiling he was used to seeing for so many years, the ceiling was metallic and matte in color. The walls were matte as well, though at least they were white as his own were. Fat load of good it did him, considering the walls didn’t look familiar in the slightest either. Where WAS this place? This wasn’t his room, it wasn’t the living room for sure. Was it a friend’s house? A hospital?

Dave sat upright and lifted his hands to his throat, his face, a sudden feeling of breathlessness hitting him as he panicked. Breathless… It all came flooding back to him in a rush, mind swimming. The attack, the lack of air, choking, suffocating. But it still didn’t answer the question of where he was, nor what was happening. When he went to rock to his knees, Dave paused, feeling a tug of fabric at his waist and chest. That… didn’t make sense, his uniform wouldn’t do that, nor would his casual clothes. Instead of wearing either outfits, he was draped in a soft white material that was tied at the waist with a woven red cord, though he couldn’t guess what type of fabric it was. It was too soft to be linen, too sturdy to be cotton, and didn’t match anything he’d ever felt. Were it not such a mystery he’d probably even go to say it was quite comfortable.

… Where were his boxers?

Who had undressed him? Even the lack of transformation would be something of importance, he’d go back to his civilian clothes, not… whatever this was. When he finally managed to stand, the room span and he sank back down to sit for a moment on the edge of the bed with a grimace, taking it all in as his mind raced in circles like a penned dog. Dave realized that it wasn’t just the garment that was covering him either, but what looked and felt like strings of pearls and golden beads. They were settled around his neck as if wrapped specifically to make a draping effect over his chest and shoulders here and there, and clasped together at the ends behind his neck with what felt like a filigree hook. Someone had taken great care to dress him like this, but why? Who?

Panic rising in his throat like bitter bile, Dave stood slower this time and headed for the cracked doorway, surprised to find the room unguarded. Cameras? Or was there some other way he was being watched? Paranoia ate at him, but when he poked his head out into the blue toned hallway, he heard nothing but the same soft hum of machinery, felt the cool air blowing from unseen vents. Barefooted, he padded along down this hallway to the left of his room, prepared for any threat. ...Or. Well, as prepared as one could be while unarmed. Dave knew how to defend himself while unarmed well enough, but the desire to have a sword was strong. Maybe he should change before exploring further, get his powerup back and-

“You’re awake. I was wondering how long you were going to be unconscious for. So long as your brain waves were healthy and strong I wasn’t worried, at least. It’s fascinating how fragile humans are once you remove their air.”

Dave froze in place. He knew that voice, but the things it was saying weren’t making sense to his brain. John wouldn’t talk like that, but that was the first person that came to mind upon hearing that specific tone and cadence, the way it handled words as if they were fluid on one's tongue instead of just a thought. Swallowing and taking a deeper breath, he rolled his shoulders back and strode to the full end of the hallway and the room it opened into.

The space was massive. The hums were definitely computers, projecting screens and physical and digital keyboards everywhere, holograms and different moving charts and images dancing in the air. Each wall seemed to have some kind of a space background, stars and a moon, a view of the Earth like a peaceful screensaver. In the center of it all stood a figure with glowing eyes and gray skin, unfamiliar clothing and decoration adorning him, a serene look on his face. He looked calm, in control, but there was no hostility to be seen.

“You can come closer. I’m not interested in fighting you,” he said.

Dave frowned and strode closer, observing the different screens as he went, unable to read any of the angular text he saw. When he was a more reasonable distance from him, he finally talked.

“So you’re the one that brought me here.” It was John. Closer, he could see the shape of his eyes, his mouth, the way his hair sat on his head, his broad shoulders. The appearance had changed, but the core was definitely the same. His stomach churned sickly. He’d kissed this person. He’d been held by this person. He’d contemplated doing more with this person, and it was all a lie.

“You seem surprised and yet not surprised enough,” he said with a hint of a smile. It looked a little forced, stiff at the edges of his mouth as if the gesture were foreign to him. “Might I ask who you were expecting?”

“...Nobody specific,” Dave admitted, trying to keep his cool. “Where is here though? I assume you can at least tell me that.”

John lifted his foot and stomped downwards, forcing the ground to shimmer for a moment before it turned pitched black and then seemed to dissolve. The space pattern from the walls blended to the rest of the floor, leaving them seemingly free floating in space despite walking on solid ground.

“I’d thought it would be fairly obvious, but I suppose even someone like you might have been confused at first. Does this clarify things, then?”

Space. Dave knew Bro had gone before, he’d talked about it in the past, but never did he think he’d get to see it himself. Much less in a situation like this one. His fingers curled into the sides of the new draping clothing he wore, steeling himself as he stared directly down towards nothingness. If Earth was on the wall’s side, then they must be at an angle without even being able to feel it. Whatever technology was doing this was astounding.

A gray hand was suddenly touching his cheek, cold and lifeless feeling, and Dave jerked his head up and took a step backwards to put some distance between them again. The look in his eyes could peel paint, aggressively defiant as he’d been during battle, though this time with the added benefit of betrayal as well. This person had lied to him, led him on, played with his emotions. Made a fool of him. He was a moron. Of course he couldn’t have nice things like romance, they weren’t possible for someone with his kind of career. This just hammered that idea home even harder than before in a way that made tears sting in his eyes and threaten to show themselves.

He kept them down out of sheer spite.

“You hate me so much already,” John mused. “Not even a moment's hesitation before pulling back.”

“You’re not John.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re not my John.”

“We are one in the same, Dave. Open your eyes to reality,” John said with a flourish of his arms, displaying himself in his entirety as if he hadn’t been seen properly before. “It doesn’t have to be so bad. Think of the possibilities you’re being afforded.”

“Possibilities? Don’t make me laugh,” he nearly spat. “My John might as well be dead now. I don’t care if you’re the same person, the John I gave a shit about wouldn’t be my enemy. I fell in love with a lie, but it was a wonderful lie, don’t even pretend to act like you’re remotely the same thing.”

John sighed a little and rolled his head on his neck to stretch it before rubbing a few strands of hair behind his ear. “You’re really in denial, aren’t you. I’m the same John. I have the same feelings for you, those weren’t a lie. The only lie is that I’m not human. I’ve no intention of hurting you.”

“You fucking suffocated me!” Dave reminded him with a hiss.

“It was the quickest way to end the battle and sequester you away,” John shrugged. “Would you rather I have beaten you senseless with my hammer? It could be arranged now, if you’d prefer. But I’d dislike crushing your pretty face.”

Dave scowled and clenched his fists tight enough that he felt his nails cutting into his palms. “What do you want with me. Hurry this up, I’ve got places to be.”

“You talk as if you’re getting out of here easily,” John mused. “But since you’re here, I’ll go ahead and extend my offer formally.”

“Offer?”

“Yes,” John said, taking a step closer in an attempt to close the gap, though it renewed itself almost immediately when Dave backstepped again to keep distance between them. Frustrating, but fine, he’d deal with it. “I’d like for you to come back with me to my planet.”

“...Why.”

“Why? Because I like you, Dave. I enjoy your company. You are… special to me. I would enjoy keeping you by my side.”

“Cute words, but you still kidnapped my ass and dressed me up like some toy. You’re not exactly still on the boyfriend pedestal,” Dave pointed out. “Why not just find someone on your planet?”

“There’s nobody left for me there,” he said simply, flatly. “It’s why when I’m done here, I’d prefer to keep you with me. I’ve got the technology to make sure you adjust to our atmosphere once it’s restored, an-”

“Restored?”

John reached a practiced hand out to tap at a keyboard, bringing up a specific hologram of a ruined looking planet. Smaller screens lit up around it showing devastation, pollution, destruction both natural and man made. There was a distinct lack of life. “Restored. All it’ll take is enough grist, and my world can be restored to its former beauty. It’s not the same as Earth, there’s a lot different about it. But it’s beautiful in its own way, when it’s healthy and alive.”

“Why is it your job to fix your planet? If you’re the only one left, why not just live here? We have problems, yeah, but there’s plenty of roo-” Dave started, only to be interrupted.

“Because I’m it’s guardian,” John said simply. “I have a chance to save and restore it, to restore everything to how it was but better. I can fix things. I have that power, and I intend to use it. I just need grist from Earth, and my home will come back.”

“How much grist do you need…?” he asked, already having a sense before getting confirmation.

“All of it, preferably. I could work with less, but if I’m here already why not just drain the damned place and be done with it.”

Dave finally took a step forward aggressively.

“So that’s the entire plan? Destroy Earth, gain grist, revive a dead planet?”

“And have you at my side for the duration. You’d love my world, Dave. You’d be loved there. You wouldn’t have to risk your neck all the time as a guardian nobody is grateful to, either,” John explained, grin widening in an almost manic way. “Once I’m the one to restore things, everyone will realize they have a guardian with that power. That I’ll exist to them as more than a vague concept of right and wrong, that I’m a real person, and that I gave them their life back. It will be beautiful.”

The aggressive stance slackened somewhat as Dave shifted his weight back towards his heel.

“You’re crazy.”

“Am I? Or are you just not looking at the big picture clearly,” John said, pulling out his hammer from thin air with a shimmer. He was a guardian. They were the same, and yet, so obviously different in every way. John tossed the weapon easily in one hand, unbothered by its weight in the slightest, then pointed it at Dave before gesturing to the rest of the room. “I’m offering you a place by my side, an entire world. This is an easy choice, Dave. We were getting so close…”

“If I knew this side of you, I’d never have even called you a friend,” Dave said, trying not to flinch when the hammer swung down sharp enough it made stinging air snap against his face. “I’m a guardian of Earth, John. You know I’d never accept this kind of offer. I can’t let you do as you please. I’m offering you a hand again to join Earth, but that’s as far as this goes.”

“Fuck the Earth!” John shouted, eyes blazing. “It's time as the crown jewel of the milky way is over, Dave, open your eyes! Look at the writing on the wall! War, famine, pollution, greed. Your planet is going down the same path my planet did at first. It’s on its way out now. It’s dimming. Yet, it still has a chance to be useful. It can restart my planet, it can become a utopia, like it always had the potential to! A second chance!”

“And why the fuck should I let you kill my planet to restart yours? What makes all our lives inferior?” demanded Dave, jaw tense. This guy was crazy. Absolutely fucking crazy.

“It’s nothing personal, Dave. It’s just business. We can always work together to find another planet to restart yours the same way, another world chock full of grist for the taking. We could work together, even. Keep both our planets safe. It’d be great, it-”

“Isn’t going to ever happen.”

“Dave.”

“I’m not going to let you lay your fucking hands on anything of mine ever again. The Earth is off limits to your grist mining.”

“Dave, listen to me.”

“The offer to remain as a friend of the planet is on the table still, but from the sound of things you’re expecting more. It’s not going to happen. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Dave,” John said again, sounding pained. The grip on his hammer tightened with every word, face desperate and tense.

“Not now, not ever. This planet is my responsibility.”

“Dave, listen!” John shouted.

“I DON’T HAVE TO LISTEN TO A FUCKING THING YOU SAY WHEN YOU’RE TALKING SO NONCHALANTLY ABOUT KILLING ALL MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY!” Dave shouted right back, raising his fists into a fighting stance defensively, prepared for what might be coming from their outbursts.

John lifted his hammer high, eyes flaring like electricity. A dark breeze rushed through the room, jerking Dave’s clothes left and right, whipping his hair wildly. He prepared for breathlessness, he prepared for the hammer. For what may come.

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST DO AS I SAY?” John yelled, slamming the hammer Dave’s direction. It was a mistake. An accident, he’d try to tell himself. He would never hurt Dave, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t, yet him talking back like this, him refusing him, him refusing him the chance of fixing his world… it was just too much to handle, and he’d done the first thing that came to mind with the darkness.

The hammer struck true, but not on Dave, much to John’s anger and relief. Instead, it was struck and currently straining against a sword that he hadn’t seen before. It was white as marble, with a strange, almost conical looking crossguard. Solid as anything, with a hum of vibrant energy as Dave held John’s strike at bay. Gone were the white clothes, the beads, the pearls, in its place the familiar uniform and white hair John had seen so many times. The flashy red, the gears ticking in the air as he stared with piercing red eyes directly into John’s. No sign of yielding.

He hated that look.

He loved that look.

They strained against each other for a moment before Dave made a move, gears spinning wildly behind him as he slowed things down and surged forwards, sliding the hammer along the edge of the sword till he could flip the balance and send it away from him. Quickly, he angled his body and struck a blow across John’s middle, though it was far from a kill strike. Even now, Dave hesitated to kill some of his enemies, something that he knew would come back to bite him in the future in one way or another. He hoped that, possibly, there would be some way to save John from himself. To clear his heart, his mind. Somehow.

Maybe he could ask Bro, call a favor in from Dirk. Anything. There had to be a way.

As time sped back up, however, Dave knew he was out of time, metaphorically. Instead of attacking again, or preparing to intercept a second hammer strike, he instead clenched his hand over his heart and focused as hard as he could on home. He could picture it in his mind, the futon with Bro’s legs dangling over the end, the television, the wires crisscrossing the floor, food on the counter, smuppets and swords everywhere. The moon from the rooftop, the faint hint of stars in the light polluted sky, the heat of midday sun on the treated surface, waves in the air bouncing off the metallic surfaces of the industrial air conditioners. He could feel it so intensely he could have drawn it with his eyes closed.

Chest warm, Dave heard his heart ticking in his chest, the steady beat of the clock that he worked with. It ticked louder, louder, harder till it was all he could feel, all he could hear… and he was gone. John struck the empty space Dave had been standing in mere seconds after he flashed and disappeared from view. Growling in rage, dark wind wildly thrashing, he threw his head back and yelled wordlessly to the digital sea of stars above him.

This wasn’t over.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dave’s roof was exactly how he’d been imagining it. Comforting, welcoming, and entirely his own. Though relieved at his sudden arrival back on Earth, he couldn’t help but stare up at the sky to try and figure out which bright spot was a star and which might be John’s ship just beyond the atmosphere. He gripped his hand tight against his chest again, before finally glancing down towards his sword. This definitely was new, but what happened? Did he get gifted an upgrade, or had he unlocked it somehow on his own in a fit of panic? He gave it a twist swing, slicing the air cleanly with a vwip noise a few times before the door to the roof clanged open.

“Jesus fuck, kid, you’re gonna give me a heart attack. Where’ve you been? It’s like you disappeared!” Bro said, hurrying forward as Dave slowed his strikes to a halt. “I came soon as I felt it, but seriously, what gives?”

“Felt it? Felt what?” he asked, confused.

“The ping,” Bro said. At Dave’s continued look of confusion, he set a hand over his heart with a smirk. “I might not be a guardian anymore, but I’m sure as shit still tapped into the system somewhat, and just from bein’ who I am to you I’d feel it I’m sure. Felt when you disappeared… felt when you came back. Dirk no doubt felt it too, even if only a bit. Everyone must’ve felt somethin’, no matter how small, that changed.”

“Somethin’ sure as shit did change, did you see this thing?” Dave asked, hefting the sword up one handed to display to Bro lengthwise, offering it to him to hold and examine in the moonlight, white and all but glowing in its deadly way. “I don’t know what happened, one minute I was goin’ for my sword, the next this cropped out instead.”

“Nice. Solid as shit, too,” Bro judged by the weight. “This is a hell of an upgrade kid. ...I hope it didn’t cost you too much. You know how they are about their workers supplies.”

There was always a price. Be it in time, or be it in blood.

“I hope so too. I’ve got no idea, though. I didn’t hear Hephaestus at all, or see him or anything, just. New sword,” he explained as he took the weapon back, changing out of his uniform and into-

“What’s with the getup?” Bro asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Fucking-! Ugh. God damn creep changed my clothes while I was out cold. H- … Wait. Motherfucker, my phone!” he shouted, looking up towards the sky angrily. His phone was gone, his clothes, his everything was gone and it wasn’t like he could just ask for it back.

“There’s worse ways to lose a phone, kid. We’ll get you a new one,” Bro said with a shrug. “Come inside, already, before you get sucked back to space or wherever the fuck you were at. I’ll make Hot Pockets or somethin’ to celebrate.”

Dave smirked. “I survive a near death experience and you offer me Hot Pockets. My first time off-planet, and it’s Hot Pockets.”

“These are the garlic bread kind, and I’m willin’ to share.”

“...You drive a hard bargain.”

Bro clapped a hand on Dave’s shoulder. “We’ll try puzzlin’ out your powerup and talk while you eat. You can even change out of your weird drapey dress if you want.”

Dave shot another look at the sky as if daring John to react while he stood there more vulnerable, while he was with his guardian, but nothing came. He’d need to finish this. Maybe the Hot Pocket talk could include more strategy than anything else, a second head with more experience fighting off-planet threats to help him think of different options.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

As they started walking, Bro chuckled. “If you wanna call your boyfriend I’ll lend you my phone for a bit if you ask real nice.”

Dave’s stomach churned as they headed through the door, mouth suddenly full of bitter spit. “No thanks. That’s. ...I’ll tell you while I eat.”

[sunflowerfromthefog]

Testing the Tonic

Description: The clown has a new recipe he wants to try out, and with only two survivors left in the trial he decides to give it a go.

Pairings: Clown/Reader, David King/Reader

WARNINGS: rape/non-con, non consensual drug use

You can also find my writing on AO3!

You could feel his eyes on you, feel your heart beating hard against your ribs as you tried to hurry the progress of the generator. It wasn’t anywhere near being done when you found it, damaged once again by the Clown. You heard a scream in the distance, eyes darting around the generator and through the trees of the red forest. You saw a pink mist near the cabin, recognized another scream as David King, the brawler of your group. You gulped and kept working, hoping he could keep the killer distracted long enough for you to get your work done. Your other two teammates were already gone, one sacrificed to the entity, another killed by the Clown himself. You heard his laugh echo around you as you moved a wire into the wrong place and the generator exploded. You were knocked on your ass, ears ringing a moment before you could open your eyes. Footsteps crept behind you and for a moment you thought you were about to meet the wrong end of a butterfly blade but instead your eyes met David’s. You breathed a sigh of relief. “You lose him?” David only blinked at you through the moonlight. You noticed his eyes were wide, his pupils blown so large you could barely make out the irises. You climb to your feet but keep yourself low, waving him closer to you. He took a glance over his shoulder, then around the tree he hid behind before crouching over to you. He had a few cuts and bruises on his shirtless torso, hands wrapped up and ready for a fight. You didn’t understand why he went without a shirt in the trials, but the fact that he survived more often than not made you never question it. “Come on,” you said, nodding to the generator, “we just need this one done and...what?” You noticed he was looking you up and down, his eyes stopping at your shirt that was torn at your left shoulder, revealing your skin. You’d caught it on a bush while trying to hide, but maybe he thought the Clown had found you. “I’m fine, I wasn’t hit.” He nods and moves past you, starting on the gen silently. You joined him, looking at him from the corner of your eye curiously. David wasn’t exactly the quiet type. Nor was he one to lose focus on his task. His own eyes kept drifting towards you. You shook your head, forcing yourself to look at the wires before you. Another explosion like before you the Clown would find you quickly. Once the generator was nearing 75% completion you realized you were alone. You stopped working and looked around the forest, but not even a bird was crying nearby.   “David?” you hissed. Since when did he just leave people? And since when had--a bottle smashed beside you, erupting in a pink mist. You began to choke, the vile taste dancing across your tongue. But...this time it wasn’t so vile. It was sweet, almost like strawberries, and as you took another deep inhale without coughing. Your world spun as you stood, using the generator for leverage when you were suddenly pinned to it. Large hands slammed down over your own on top of the generator, wrapped knuckles you recognized as David’s. Your instinct was to scream, but the feeling of his skin against yours only made you groan. Had it always been this hot in the forest? You remembered this place as one of the many cold ones...not so...warm. Inviting. “Is he coming?” you questioned David. Maybe he’d merely run into you trying to block an attack, but a strike never came. “Already here,” David answered. His lips pressed to your neck, knuckles turning white over yours as he kept you in place. He bit at your skin, sucking large welts onto you all while grinding against your ass. “What?” you asked. Your voice was oddly wispy, breathless even. Your head turned to look at David properly but only resulted in his right hand snapping up and wrapping around your neck and forcing you to look the other way. He let out a growl, slipping his other hand up your arm to rip what was left of you shirt from your body. He groped at your breast rough enough that you thought it should hurt, but instead it sent a shock of pleasure into your core. You started to stand on your toes, attempting to grind back against him but he wasn’t allowing you any kind of movement. He growled again, tightening his grip on your neck as if to force you to stay still. “Dav...David,” you stuttered as best your could, “s-stop…” Not that you wanted him to, but you knew something was wrong. It wasn’t your first time with David, not by a long shot, but the lack of communication, his extreme roughness, and the fact you were in a trial, terrified you. You finally found the strength to lift a hand and try to push at you assailant but instead found your hands pinned to the top of the generator. But not by David. “Got him all riled up for you,” the Clown said. His twisted features came clear into view as he held your wrists against the metal. You struggled, but with David behind you and the Clown’s supernatural strength you were thoroughly trapped. David released your neck and moved his hand beneath your shorts, finding your clit and starting switch between rubbing it and sliding down your folds. Were you wet? Feeling your slick made David let out a groan, his dick twitching against your behind. “Ya want it to then, eh?” “No,” you moaned, a clear contradiction in your voice. You tried to focus your eyes on the Clown, his wide and bloodied grin right in front of you but found it nearly impossible. “What did...what did you do?” “Made a new tonic,” he said, “just for you and the big boy here. Gave you a low dose, just enough to make sure ya know what’s happening, but him? He’s got some’n a little stronger.” He let out a laugh, forcing a wave of foul breath over your face. You wrinkled your nose then gasped as David forced a finger into you and crooked it. As David continued to press a single finger into you, forcing whimpers and gasps from you, the clown clasped your wrists together and pinned them with one hand. With his other he pulled out his knife. You tried to pull away as he laughed again but rather than slicing through your skin he cut your bra straps. His eyes fell down to your chest, licking his lips slowly as he moved the blade to the valley between your breasts. “David,” you breathed, “you have to--” he pressed three fingers into you know, his palm grinding against your nub. “You have to stop him!” The Clown cut through your bra, letting it fall to your feet. David began to pull your shorts and panties down to your ankles, and with the way he was touching you you weren’t sure how you hadn’t cum yet. The fire in your body covered you head to toe, and matched with the electricity in your core this was beyond anything you’d ever felt before. “Look at these,” the Clown chuckled. His released your wrists and pinched your nipples. Your hands flew up with a scream, clawing at his wrists uselessly while he took advantage of your sensitivity. “Such a little slut you are, ain’t she boy?” “My little slut,” David mumbled. He bit down hard on your shoulder, making you scream. “Why don’t you stop teasing your little slut and give her what she wants?” Tears began to form in your eyes as you shake your head. The Clown’s filthy hands cupped your breasts, oblivious to your struggle to get him off of you. “She’s likin’ this, getting manhandled in the dark.” “No,” you said. You wanted to shake your head harder but it only made you more dizzy.   David pulled his fingers from you, and it was only then that you started to really feel the pain in your hips from being pressed against the generator so hard. Your knees were ready to give out, but you stayed up as David held your hips.   Your juices dripped down your thighs as David kicked your feet further apart. When he’d taken out his cock you didn’t know, but you now felt him aim it at your entrance.   “David, stop, you...this isn’t--” You couldn’t get a full sentence out as the Clown continued to play with your breasts. “Oh, he can’t stop darling,” the Clown said. He leaned in until you could only see the paint on his face. “Come on, give us a kiss.” The Clown’s lips were rough as they pressed against yours, but all you could focus on was the way his tongue easily entered your open mouth. You tried to pull back but he grabbed a chunk of your hair and kept your there. You could feel his smile as tears finally started to fall down your cheeks. David thrust into you sharply, giving you not time to adjust before pulling out and pushing back in. You screamed into the Clown’s mouth at the slight pain that came with the thrusts, but more from the pleasure it brought you. God, you’d been with David before but he’d never made you feel this good. The squelching sounds coming from him entering you over and over again were all you could hear as the Clown continued to taste your mouth. His tongue travelled everywhere it seemed, sliding over your own tongue, the roof of your mouth, your teeth and cheeks. When he finally released you he laughed again. “Wondering why you can’t get off yet?” Through your haze, you squinted at him. But your silent question went unanswered.   The Clown leaned back, leaving you to claw at the metal beneath you in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure between your legs. While you felt David’s dick fully, your walls clenching around him in an attempt to chase your high, it wasn’t enough. You glared at the Clown’s grin as he walked around the generator, dick erect and in hand. He stroked himself casually. You watched his hand travel up and down his shaft, resting your head on top of the cool metal in hopes of relieving the heat. It didn’t work.   “Ngnnnnn,” you groaned, eyelids hooded. The Clown’s dick twitched at the noise, a bit of precum leaking from his tip. He was bigger than David, and David wasn’t average. “Please,” you begged, though you weren’t sure what you were begging for. The Clown pulled a small vial from his pocket and popped the cork on it before holding it beneath David’s nose. With one last hard thrust David released into you, grinding against you for minutes as he filled you with a shout. He stayed there for a moment, his dick gradually getting softer as you cried. “Fuck, love,” David said. He pulled out and stepped back, but you didn’t dare turn around to look at him. You heard a thump, the familiar sound of a body hitting the forest floor. You were holding yourself over the generator, naked and leaking both David’s juices and your own. Tears kept springing from your eyes, and while your walls twitched with residual pleasure, you needed more. Wanted more. Of all the times you’d been sexually frustrated, it didn’t compare to the pain you currently felt. Slowly, you balanced more of your weight on your feet, pushing yourself up from the generator. Your eyes slid to the clown, still stroking himself beside you. He arched a brow at you and while you couldn’t feel your legs, you started to run. You took off towards the cabin and actually made it inside before you couldn’t move anymore. You fell to your knees, scraping them against the wood beside the table. Footsteps fell behind you and you started to shake your head. The Clown’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he lifted you. You felt his dick press against your lower back, and as he “helped” you to your feet one hand groped at your breasts. “Stop,” you ordered, voice quiet. Sex with David was one thing you could recover from--he wasn’t in his right mind--but the Clown? A killer? You planted your hands on the table, hating that you were in the same position as before with the generator. The Clown turned you to face him, giving you a shove until you sat on the table. The wood was harsh against the delicate skin of your bum and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together. It gave you a small bit of pleasure, making you sigh. The man--or monster--before you gripped your knees and pulled them open, pulling you to the edge of the table. He kept you there, watching you try and fail to push him away from you. He stepped closer, his stomach pressing against you. His right hand slid up your thigh and he pushed three bulky fingers in your cunt. He rubbed your walls, smiling as they clenched around him and you covered your mouth with the back of your hand. “Ya wanna cum don’t ya?” he asked. Body betraying you further, you nodded.   “I can make it happen, ya just gotta ask nicely,” he told you. “I’ve seen how sweet you are with your friends. Why don’t you be sweet with me, darlin’?” You blinked up at him, horrified. But before you could understand what you were doing, you whispered, “Please...please…” He lined up the bulbous tip of his cock with your entrance, pressing in just a bit to make you inhale sharply. “Come on…” “Please, let me come.” You covered your face with both hands, hiccuping as you tried not to cry. You heard a cork pop and the Clown shoved into you. You screamed at his size, though it didn’t hurt, just...filled you. Completed you, you thought. When your hands slapped against his chest he shoved a vial beneath your nose and you breathed in the sweet berry mixture.   And finally, you reached your high. You shrieked, rocking your hips in time with the Clown’s now violet thrusts. Your hands moved to meet at the back of his neck, and he pressed an open mouthed kiss to you. You were more than willing to let his tongue into your mouth, thrusting your own forward to meet his. It felt longer than it should have, your walls repeatedly flexing around his cock. As the pleasure began to die down you briefly thought you might pass out like David had, but the Clown wasn’t finished with you. You knew there was more of this pleasure to be had. “Ya want some more?” he asked, as if sensing your thoughts. “Yes!” you cried. Your legs wrapped around his ample waist as best they could.   “Ya wanna come again sweet thing?” “Oh God, yes,” you said, “please, again, I wanna--I wanna!” The Clown smashed a bottle on the ground and this time a purple mist flew around you. And just like that, your mind snapped back to normal. The pleasure between your legs faded a bit, and the reality of what was happening crashed down on you. Instead of pulling the Clown as close to you as possible, instead of relishing in the heat of his body and the feel of his hands on your skin, you started to push at him. You screamed for him to let you go, to get away from you but he just did what he did best. He laughed. “What?” he asked. “Don’t wanna cum anymore?” “No! Get off of my you son of a--!” The clown pulled your hips flush to his, one hand pressing against your back and ensuring you couldn’t get away. You couldn’t close your eyes, and watched as the Clown’s face contorted in pleasure while his dick twitched and released inside of you. His hips rocked, shooting his seed deeper inside of you than even David reached. Mouth agape, you were frozen, and the Clown took the opportunity to give you another passionate kiss. Soon he pulled out, patting a hand on your thigh as if congratulating you. “A good little slut, you are.” He tucked himself back into his pants, leaving you with an ache between your thighs and unable to move still. You first thought it was because of what had just happened--after all, you’d just begged a psychotic killer for sex--but soon realized you couldn’t move. Your body wasn’t frozen, it was paralysed.   The Clown continued, “Don’t worry, that’ll wear off. I’ll go take care of your friend out there and by the time I’m done you should be able to run. Maybe you can find the hatch before I find ya again. Could always go for a round two.”

[lichlover]

Okay so this a balance headcanon, and it is technically one I saw in a text post somewhere on tumblr that has been lost to the scroll of my dashboard months and months ago, but. The concept that the reason Barry was on the starblaster in the first place... was because he was some kinda undercover death cultist trying to kickstart the apocalypse... but then it happened and he was like "wait shit this actually sucks" and then has to figure out what to do

please consider donating to my ko-fi!

This was how it was written: Sildar Hallwinter would end the world.

Before his departure, they’d etched his name into the first of the sacred texts; his true name, five syllables destined to strike terror into the hearts of all living beings and their menial existences. It would all perish in the Apocalypse, of course. Everything would. But he and his fellows would ascend in death, as would every record that burned in the Great Blaze of the end times, and the universe would know their history. The true history. The history he would go down in as the Catalyst for the End of All Things, the Second Revelation, the Midnight Prophet for the Last Downfall of Mankind.

The gnome in front of him peered over the angular frames of his spectacles and said, “Barry Bluejeans?”

Sildar Hallwinter had also lost a bet.

But it was no matter, for there was no meager chronicle that would remember him as Barold J. Bluejeans, chief science officer of the IPRE Starblaster. He would be survived only by the destruction set to ravage their world in a matter of months, a Dawning so terrible that it would leave nothing of civilization in its wake. No one would know the name Barry Bluejeans. Everyone would know the name Sildar Hallwinter, and the thought made his stomach knot with such anticipation that he had to collect himself before he could respond.

“That’s me,” he said, and grinned a different man’s grin at the gnome—Captain Davenport of the IPRE, unknowing Chariot to the Catalyst for the End of All Things, the Second Revelation, the Midnight Prophet for the Last Downfall of Mankind. “Reporting for duty.”

Sildar was well accustomed to the dank, ash-streaked tunnels of the Fellowship’s headquarters beneath Ascendant’s Peak, but the IPRE headquarters were sleek and warm, drawing him in with rounded walls and high, arching ceilings. Everywhere he looked, another enormous set of windows opened to the landscape below, as of yet untouched by the Cataclysm Foretold. He wasn’t used to this much natural light, and he certainly wasn’t used to people smiling and waving as they passed. “Another poor soul for the Big One, Dav?” someone called, and the captain waved them off affably.

For an organization completely aware of the end times, and completely unaware of the fact that he, Sildar, would be responsible for their failure, they were all terribly… cheery.

“We’ve already gathered the other crew members,” said the captain, when they came to a halt in front of a nondescript door. “They’re just, uh, through here. We’ll start our first briefing in the next—next half hour, but for now, feel free to socialize. G-Get to know them. We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

“Thanks,” said Sildar, and the captain mumbled something under his breath. “Uh, what was that?”

“Oh,” said the captain. “Nothing.” He turned, and it was only then that Sildar’s brain registered the words; it had sounded almost like good luck.

No matter. Sildar opened the door.

“Incoming!”

Sildar yelped—actually yelped—and ducked aside just as a chair flew over his head and exploded against the wall. A shower of wooden fragments and very magical sparks hit the ground in front of him, and he sputtered, wordless, on the precipice of reaching for his own wand—was this an ambush? Had they discovered the truth of his presence already?

“Oh, shit,” somebody said, and a silhouette appeared through the smoke and magical residue. Sildar caught his breath. Perhaps he was dead, then; perhaps one of the wooden shards had caught him through the heart, and the Avatar of Renewal through Annihilation had come to meet him on the threshold of the afterlife. She looked like divinity, at any rate: tall and elegant, with waves of hair that glittered like finely spun gold and eyes that blazed with the last vestiges of power. Eyes that settled on him, and softened instantly. No, Sildar thought. She couldn’t possibly be the Avatar of Renewal, because she looked kind.

“Shit,” said the divine being again. Her ears twitched downward with concern—an elf, then. “Lucky break, babe. You okay?”

Sildar blinked, and found himself at a loss for words.

“Leave it to you to fuckin’ scare the shit outta the newcomer!” A voice like hers rose through the smoke, and as it cleared, Sildar made out four other bodies, all draped in the ostentatious red of the IPRE and squinting into the gloom. The one who had spoken, another willowy elf with even longer golden locks, lifted a hand in the air and snapped his fingers, and all the smoke dissipated at once. “You had to launch it at the fuckin’ wall, Mags!”

His companion, a human who stood taller than everyone else in the room and looked battle-scarred to the bone despite his youth, gestured indignantly at the aftermath. “But did you see how fucking awesome that was? And that was a whole science experiment! Setup—uh, hypothesis, trials, conclusion?”

“Which is?” The elf unspooled two letters into a long, drawn-out drawl.

“That this room was totally used for magic shit! And now we can do whatever we want in here!”

“Um,” came another voice from the window, and Sildar looked over to see a dark young woman with a head of platinum-bright hair, gazing nervously at the set of admittedly impressive scorch marks over his head. “I think if anything, that proves we shouldn’t do what we want in here.”

“Agree to disagree,” said “Mags,” with undue confidence.

“That’s—but that’s not what science is—”

The final figure in the room, a portly dwarf with flowers woven into his beard, shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Look at the impression you just made,” he said. “Going around, trying to kill people you just met—what kind of monsters do something like that?”

The divine being made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh and pushed a few loose strands of hair off her face. “You must be the chief science officer,” she said, and stuck out a hand. “Sorry for the accidental attempted murder. I’m Lup.”

Lup.

“I’m,” said Sildar. “Uh.”

This time she really did laugh—a lyrical, full-bodied sound that he felt deep in his chest. “Tell me we didn’t just knock your name outta your head.”

“Oh, no, it’s, uh—” Lup. She looked at him with a smile so resplendent he had to catch his breath all over again. What did she know of Sildar Hallwinter, the Catalyst for the End of All Things, the Second Revelation, the Midnight Prophet for the Last Downfall of Mankind? What did she know of anything beyond all the light she cast in every direction?

“I’m, uh, Barry,” he said. “Barry J. Bluejeans.”

.

Here are some things Sildar Hallwinter learns about Barry J. Bluejeans:

He has a penchant for getting into character. Maybe that’s more Sildar than Barry, but there’s something so intoxicating about the drama of it all, especially when no one else knows he’s playing a role. Barry is a bit of a thespian, if he does say so himself.

That said, he’s sort of awkward. More of Sildar’s influence. When you’ve spent your whole life preparing to fulfill your divine purpose in the End of All Things, it’s a little hard to adjust to things like game night and brunch.

He’s smart. Really smart. The Fellowship hadn’t really encouraged science—everything else came second to the teachings of the Apocalypse—but not only is Barry-slash-Sildar naturally inclined for it, he actually enjoys it.

He can’t swim. Sildar can, and rather enjoys it, but it’s a little bit of flavor text he can’t resist.

He’s not half bad at making friends.

The crew of the Starblaster were, of course, a means to an end, and he would develop no meaningful relationship with any of them beyond what was necessary to keep up appearances. That was his mandate, at least. But it was hard. Much harder than he’d expected, really. And despite himself, he—Barry—found it all to easy to laugh at the dwarf Merle’s gods-awful jokes and stay up late to hear Captain Davenport recount tales of grandeur. He let himself be roped into more magic-powered “experiments” (in the loosest sense of the word) with the human fighter, Magnus, who actually seemed to enjoy death-defying stunts with the zeal of someone from the Fellowship. He got to know the soft-spoken but brilliant archivist, Lucretia, and her remarkably meticulous transcriptions. On one particularly reckless night, he joined the long-haired elf Taako on a quest to fill a particularly uppity supervisor’s pockets full of pudding.

And as the Appointed Hour approached, Barry found himself spending late nights in the IPRE labs with Lup, testing and recording speculations on arcane theory and downing enough coffee to drive them to hysterics by dawn. They were all a little nervous, a little sad, a little desperate to sort their affairs before takeoff, but Lup tackled new problems with the kind of determination that demanded solutions. She was the most ingenious person Barry had ever met. And when she sat back from an arcane reaction gone wrong, her hairline blackened with soot and grinning like a caffeine-tripped maniac, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

This was how it was until the Apocalypse arrived.

Barry woke the morning of with a planet-shattering hangover.

He crawled to the mirror and squinted blearily into the glass; thanks to the IPRE’s constant offerings of complimentary coffee and cake and Taako’s singlehanded banquets, he’d put on weight over the last several months, and he’d started to love the gentle resilience his body had gained. Sildar was clean-shaven and angular, but Barry was soft and stubbly. A few nights before, Lup’s gaze had caught on his chin, and she’d told him how nice he looked with a five o’clock shadow.

He’d thought she was joking, but that was just how she was—kind.

He went to his closet and started to mull over which shirt to wear.

The day was dark and still, the sky an unbroken slate grey, and it was just what the sacred texts had imagined: not a living thing stirred for miles beyond the horizon. Even the grass beneath Barry’s feet, as he followed Davenport to the Starblaster’s gangway, had turned an off-color, metallic shade. They said their goodbyes to the Institute, and to the enormous crowd at starboard, and in the eerie light they all looked like corpses risen from the grave. There was something hanging over their heads that felt nothing like the terrible glory the Fellowship had promised; instead it was unsettled, and sickly, and wrong.

Barry swallowed the knot gathering rapidly in his throat and followed his crew up the gangway. There was but one thing left for him to do now—him, Sildar Hallwinter, the Catalyst for the End of All Things, the Second Revelation, the Midnight Prophet for the Last Downfall of Mankind. And then the Hour would be upon them at last.

He left the others on the bridge and walked to the Bond Engine.

The explosives tucked inside his robe were light, and branded with the sigil of the Fellowship, although no one would be able to tell in the ensuing destruction. It was certain to be localized, of course; they were meant to damage the engine and nothing more. He could never deprive himself—or anyone else, for that matter—the opportunity to witness the Terror as it began its First Assault on the world of the living. No one knew quite what it would look like, or how it would feel, but the Fellowship had promised a beautiful ascendancy for all its members. And now Sildar would seal his fate. He would seal everyone’s fate.

“Barold!”

Sildar fumbled an explosive, and it was almost the last thing he ever did. He whirled around, and there was Taako, waving him over from the bottom of the staircase. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” said Barry, faintly. “Why?”

“Cap’n’port wants everybody on the bridge for the launch.” He flapped his arm at the bridge, looming above them against a wall of indiscernible storm clouds. “C’mon!”

“Uh,” Barry said. Suddenly the explosives weighed too heavily in his robe. “In a sec!”

“He means now, Barry! This storm ain’t lookin’ too good!”

No, no, no. Not yet.

But I don’t want—

What does it matter what you want?

Sildar Hallwinter gripped the hem of his pocket.

And Barry Bluejeans whispered a disarming spell, followed by a shrinking charm. Three marbles branded with the sigil of the High Fellowship of the Great Prophecy for the First Revelation rattled in his pocket as he jogged toward Taako and the bridge.

They escaped by the skin of their teeth. Sildar Hallwinter watched his world consumed by a force so uncaring, so unfeeling, that it couldn’t possibly be the Herald of Rebirth for All Things. He watched it rip everything apart—the IPRE headquarters where he’d met his crew, the ice cream parlor he’d braved with Magnus and Lucretia, the farmer’s market where Taako had taught him the difference between parsley and basil, the enormous lake Davenport had taken them sailing on for a weekend, the small garden Merle had kept just outside their dorms. 

The horizon, where he’d watched the sun set with Lup.

In the space between planes, Sildar Hallwinter was unmade. And when the threads of his body settled back into place, he caught his breath and thought, Never again.

This was how it was written: Barry J. Bluejeans would save the world.

[reylsei]

|| Dusted Shadows, pt. 3, Final || (A Short Dustberry Story)

He was tired by the time he stumbled out onto the highway. He could only assume this was what the road was, anyway. On the other side there were just more trees. More dark forest. But the sun had come up now, and he could see a whole lot better. Dust turned to look at one end of the road, and then look the other way. There was a sign facing away from him, so he followed to road until he was standing in front of it. “Wismerril Valley, 13 miles” the sign read. Dust groaned and began walking along the side of the road.

The trees lining the road provided shade, so Dust wasn’t hot while he walked. Though, the place that he was at wasn’t warm at all. Next month it would start snowing. He nodded to himself and muttered things that didn’t really matter.

“Next month, next month, snow, Christmas…” Dust went on like this for some time. He could remember the first time he had spent Christmas with the others. And while they had been out in the backyard, a white blanket of snow over the ground, Dust had learned what a snowball fight was. He had a sort of sense for what it was back in his AU, but never really took part in one. He remembered Blue grabbing his wrist, excitedly saying things too fast for him to follow as he pulled him along behind a fort of snow.

He knew it would happen again this year, Blue grabbing him and pulling him along everywhere. He would probably attempt to put a headband with antlers on his skull again. And Dust would let him, of course, because he knew he didn’t even deserve to be there.

Skylar always called the other girls over, so she wouldn’t be the only female in a room of male skeletons. It would be her, Elise, Fae, Lynn, Annie, Alex, and Siliphy. As for the skeletons, there was Dust, Blue, Killer, Horror, Dream, Nightmare, Cross, Ink, Error, and Lust. Sometimes others joined, but this small group was always there no matter what.

Dust remembered the first year with the tree. That little accident with the star for the top. Lynn and Elise had been telling Horror he was too short, couldn’t reach, he was going to break it. Of course Horror broke it. It slipped from his hands, and hit the floor, sending silver-gold shards skidding across the tile. Skylar had kicked everyone out of the house until she could clean it.

Dust looked up from his muttering and flashbacks to find that the trees were more spaced out. The road seemed a little wider and he could see a faint sign with resting stops. He walked a little faster, knowing he could possibly borrow a phone from someone. His had died a while back, before he had fallen into the clearing. He could still remember those faces, the faces of the Darkened. They came from an AU that couldn’t be accessed by anyone, and spread around to different AUs at random like a virus.

They had chased him, and he had ran and randomly teleported so much he had gotten lost, and he knew he was way too far from home to teleport back.

One of the lanes of the road broke off and went in another direction. Dust followed that one. His fingers began to trace the crack on his skull again. The Darkened hadn’t done that to him. He’d done it to himself. Over-usage of his magic, that was the cause. Now the gash in his shoulder, that had been the Darkened. He could feel the dried blood and slight pain as he moved, though the injury wasn’t too deep. If it had been deep, he would be in trouble. He could have been infected. Dust couldn’t remember the name of the AU that those things came from.

He looked up to see a small gas station. Past that there was a Walmart, then another store, and another… He had managed to find a town, now he needed a phone. He stopped for a moment and stared at the gas station, not too far from the car lot. He tugged his hood down over the crack and continued forward. He wasn’t sure about how people would react to his shoulder, and he could only hope there wouldn’t be too many people inside.

Dust pushed the door open and stepped inside. He walked up to the counter, a male teenage human with a dark curly mess for hair. The guy stared at Dust with the most confused and almost terrified expression he had seen yet.

“Phone?” Dust asked, almost too quiet for the other to hear. The register had a little torn nametag that read “Dav-” with the rest torn off. “Dav” stared for a moment before turning and pushing his own phone to Dust. There was that connection Dust managed to make. This person couldn’t let him use the business phone, so he had to use his personal one. Dust nodded a little in silent thanks. He put in Skylar’s number and waited.

“Hello?” Skylar’s voice came from the other end. Dust let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He had been afraid Skylar wouldn’t answer.

“Uh, hey Skylar. It’s me, Dust. I’m using someone else’s phone-“ He was cut off by Skylar.

“Where did you go?!” He told her he had no idea. Her question had been so loud Dav looked up with an “Oh, that’s what you have to deal with” expression.

“Where are you now?” Skylar asked him. Dust looked over at Dav. Dav held his hand out, gesturing for the phone. Dust gave it to him. He told Skylar the address. Skylar said something Dust couldn’t hear and then the call ended.

It was silent for a bit while Dust waited. Soon a small conversation started, and Dust learned that his actual name was David, not Dav. Dust refused to speak much, but he would still respond to questions. David kept looking over at his shoulder but said nothing.

Skylar came running in and practically flung herself at Dust. She immediately began scolding him for running off and making everyone else worry. He followed her out the door, but before he let it shut, he turned back to give a small wave to David. He waved back.

Dust leaned against the car window, watching trees and buildings pass by. Things began to blur as he fell asleep.

* * *

Skylar walked in and both Blue and Nightmare looked up from what they were doing. Blue had been knitting a ridiculously long scarf and Nightmare was reading. She gestured for Nightmare to follow her. He sighed in slight annoyance but stood up to follow.

Blue watched them both walk out before looking down at his scarf. It was red and purple, two odd colors that he wasn’t too sure went together. They reminded him of Dust. And speaking of Dust, he had gone missing. The others, including himself, had all gone out to look for him. When Blue and Skylar had gotten home from their shopping trip the others immediately notified them of Dust’s absence.

Blue was quietly continuing the scarf, suddenly unhappy that these colors matched Dust. Skylar and Nightmare walked in, but he didn’t look up. Skylar came up to him and lifted his skull so he was looking up at Nightmare. In one of his tentacles he held Dust. Blue jumped up and Nightmare handed the sleeping skeleton to him.

Blue sat back down on the couch, now with Dust’s skull in his lap. He had laid Dust across the couch so he could continue sleeping. He continued his knitting, only pausing to look over at the colorfully wrapped box he had done a few hours ago. A little tag hung off the side of the large purple ribbon that sat on top. It only had one word written on it, and it was “Dust.”

[giovanniis]

what  is  UP  my  pals  ,  mis  amigos  .  my  name  is  dab  and  i’m  ur  new  bff  .  besides  that  ,  i’m  also  twenty  ,  use  she/they  pronouns  ,  and  am  kickin’  in  over  here  in  pst  !  under  the  cut  ,  i’m  gonna  ramble  probably  a  lot  about  my  son  ,  giovanni  .  (  spoiler  alert  :  he’s  a  dumbass  who  only  ever  wants  to  talk  about  hockey  .  )   DMISMDA  anyways  .  pls  give  this  a  LIKE  if  u’d  like  to  plot  and  i  will  come  RUNNING  !  my  d*scord  is  𝒅𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒊_420#1971  if  u  wanna  hmu  there  !  i’m  gonna  shut  up  here  now  so  i  can  start  babbling  more  below  hehe

chicago’s very own GIOVANNI NARCISO has been spotted on madison avenue driving a range rover , welcome ! your resemblance to shawn mendes is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-second birthday bash  . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re stubborn , but being ambitious might help you . i think being a leo explains that .  3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be the sharpened blades of a pair of ice skates, hockey memorabilia everywhere, and late night escapades . 

╰  *  MINI STATS  !

FULL NAME  :  giovanni  noel  narciso  

NICKNAME(S)  :  gio  ,  g

AGE  :  twenty - two

GENDER  +  PRONOUNS   :  cis  male  +  he  /  him

ORIENTATION  :  bisexual   /   biromantic

ZODIAC  :  leo  sun  ,  gemini  rising  ,  pisces  moon  

BIRTHDAY  :  july  26th  ,  1997

PLACE  OF  BIRTH  :  toronto  ,  ontario  ,  canada 

LOVE  LANGUAGE  :  physical  touch  

OCCUPATION(S)  :  professional  hockey  player  for  the  ny  rangers  ,  socialite  

DRINKING  /  DRUGS  /  SMOKING  :  hell  yes  /  no  /  only  weed

TRAITS  :  stubborn  ,  hotheaded  ,  dramatic  ,  standoffish  ,  brash  ,  overemotional  ,  facetious  ,  distant  ,  provocative  ,  inconsistent  ,  unpredictable  ,  gullible  ,  sympathetic  ,  charming  ,  loyal  ,  hypocritical  ,  protective  ,  talented  ,  ambitious  ,  passionate  ,  affectionate  

LIFE  GOAL  :  make  it  to  the  hockey  hall  of  fame  and  be  remembered  as  the  G  O  A  T  

╰  *  BACKGROUND  INFO  !

giovanni narciso was born in toronto, canada on july 26th to a world-renowned hockey player and his socialite wife. needless to say, gio lived his life in the spotlight from the moment he was born, and he’s always had everything he’s ever wanted right at his fingertips.

from a young age, gio was encouraged to be active all the time. he started skating almost as soon as he learned how to stand up by himself. it’s no wonder that he had such a knack for it with his father being a hockey legend and the fact that he got so much practice. when his father realized that gio had a natural affinity, he put him onto a club hockey team as soon as he was old enough, and started making gio work with a private coach to give him a one-up on his teammates and everyone else on the ice ( despite the fact that he was only seven when he started ).

because of this, he always felt a lot of pressure to be the best he could possibly be… how could he not ? there were sports reporters showing up to his games to get the scoop on how he was doing, and how he compared to his father, and if he’d ever actually make it in professional hockey.

his parents divorced when he was eleven, and his mom moved to marry a much older, wealthy man in chicago, illinois. so, much to his despair, gio lived his life switching from toronto to chicago. the only constant in his life was hockey. so even though it stressed him the fuck out, it also made him feel at peace. he knew no matter where he was, he could get on the ice and kick everyone’s ass. he spent most of his time in chicago with his mom, and attended school there too, but during holidays or the summertime, he spent his time back up in toronto with his dad.

this really took a toll on his mental health because his mom ?? sorta just forgot about him :/ like … she fought for custody just to spite his dad ? she didn’t actually want gio. this sounds kinda dumb but like … sorta think about cinderella ( #gioella ) and how he suddenly got thrust into an entire new family that didn’t really like him or know how to connect with him. he felt really alone more often than not.

luckily, at sixteen, he was signed to a minor league hockey team in chicago. because of this development, he stopped going out to visit toronto as often ( especially when it was game season ). this caused a lot of buzz in the hockey community because oh my god giovanni narciso, son of a hockey legend, was breaking onto the scene

and it SHOULD’VE STAYED THAT WAY !!!! BUT NO ! gio’s dad had other things in mind. demon.

you see, pretty much all throughout high school, gio was dating kylie. she is the love of his life. there’s never been an ounce of doubt about that fact. the sky is blue and gio loves kylie. like ???

gio proposed to kylie when they were eighteen. fresh out of high school. this made gio’s dad LIVID. he didn’t like kylie or her family or anything about her. gio’s plan, of course, was to say a big fuck you ! and marry her anyways. but it didn’t end up working out like that.

sadly, giovanni’s father did not approve of her. was he a little salty that gio chose to stay in chicago and not visit anymore (even if it was because he was signed there) ? yes. was he incredibly greedy and wanted to cement the narciso name in history too ? aaaabsolutely.

as soon as he was eligible at eighteen, gio had multiple offers from nhl franchises to come play for their teams. he could pick and choose whoever he wanted, basically. he was a real hot commodity. but suddenly, the offers were being ripped right from his hands. and it was all because of his dad’s influence in the hockey world. he basically gave gio an ultimatum: marry kylie, and there was no more hockey. or do as he said, and he could have it all.

it was rushed, haphazardly chosen decision, but gio chose hockey. it had helped him through every rough patch in his life, and it was the one thing he knew he was good at. it’s not like he was exceptionally smart or good at anything else. if it wasn’t hockey, then he wasn’t worth anything. that’s something he honestly believes to this day.

so instead of TALKING THIS THROUGH WITH HER LIKE ANY RATIONAL PERSON WOULD ! he straight up left. packed his shit and left in the middle of the night when kylie was asleep. completely ghosted her. didn’t answer her texts, her calls, nothing. blocked her on everything.

he did as his father told him to, and started dating carolina graham, a nice girl that his father liked a lot better

their relationship was reminiscent of p*te dav*dson and ariana grande’s. they very quickly got engaged and they were the talk of all the tabloids. there wasn’t a moment where they could step out without cameras being shoved in their face. this sky-rocketed gio to socialite status. everyone that didn’t already know him from hockey wanted to know the handsome young man now engaged to carolina

ok now lightning round

when he was twenty-one , he secured the bag with the ny rangers DJSIOAJDOA and got a multi-year contract — one of the biggest contracts in the nhl history, and became one of the youngest captains ever .

* more fun facts about gio n hockey : he plays first string center and is #2 !

since his career was actually stable, he decided to stop having to pretend to be in love with someone, and immediately just broke up with carolina. he said goodbye wifey JDSAODSA  aaaaand now , a year later , he’s livin it up !

also ? 1000% still in love with kylie but THAT is a completely different story he is a #simp

╰  *  PERSONALITY  !

hockey is a rough-around-the-edges type of sport, and that’s reflected in gio’s personality. he’s very charming, and is typically a pretty nice person ? he doesn’t go out of his way to be kind or anything but he’s not gonna start a fight for no reason DSAIJDSADSjDI

he’s terribly stubborn, and once he’s set his mind on something, it will happen no matter what or who he has to do. this could be good because in a way, it just means he’s very ambitious, but it’s also bad because he will do and say things without a thought about how it makes someone feel

narciso is a fitting last name because he’s incredibly full of himself. how could he not be ? he’s the son of a hockey legend, and he’s made a great name for himself too. he’s an amazing athlete, and he knows he’s good looking too. it’s no secret that he’s a little big-headed sometimes.

he has a very short temper. he blows his lid very easily, and will say things he probably doesn’t mean just because he wants to hurt you.

he just??? doesn’t think. he doesn’t have a filter literally at all. will say the first thing that comes to mind always and it’s usually fucking stupid sdjdjas… he’s also a big jokester and very sarcastic 

also has a problem with being honest ? lies about everything? the type of person to smile in your face while he stabs you in the back? will lie when there’s no reason to? you could be like “gio did u eat breakfast” and he’ll be like “ya.” even if he didn’t like… dumb shit. don’t ever trust him about anything

ok so he comes off as cocky like… externally… but inside, he’s really insecure? like he believes that love exists because he’s felt it but he doesn’t…. think it was meant for him, if that makes sense. because every time he loves someone, he fucks it all up. because of this, he has a really poor vision of love n everything. uhhhh can u say trust issues?

he’s also a wh*re . i’m so sorry. lowkey craves affection and fills that void with meaningless hookups and one night stands 

most people think he lives up to the ‘dumb jock’ stereotype, which is something he’s also really insecure about. it’s not that he didn’t try in school. he did to a point, but then he just flat out stopped caring. school was always really difficult for him. he was diagnosed with dyslexia when he was 7, and it always made him feel really out of place in school… to the point where he just stopped caring because all it did was made him feel frustrated and dumb when all he needed was some extra help?

he’s misunderstood

and also just… a whole mess tbh djsaios….

u can find some wanted connections here 

[fialleril]

valkirinii replied to your post “snippet from a DAV Mara fic”

DA VADER IS BATMAN you are so right. Just like Batman with his angry kids with painful pasts, he has all sorts of good advice he didn't follow in the past, and that ENDING THOUGH. NOBODY TAUGHT ME. THAT IS ... ugh. I love it. It's so bard-tale classic and true and misleading at the same time, you keep on with your Odysseus self Mara. (And for the whiners, here's an AU take on Mara, you're welcome. The non-whiners like me can immediately adopt another Vader apprentice and all agree that Kadee is completely right and also amazing. All three of them are my favorite characters in that scene, I love the Force-sensitive perspectives on DA Vader where they realize so much and then rationalize themselves away from understanding the information they’ve picked up.

He’s so Batman: like he doesn’t even really mean to go adopting all of these kids, it just kind of...happens? Because they are scared but also fiercely determined and they’re in over their heads and trapped in horrifying circumstances and it’s not like he thinks he’d be a good dad, at all, hell he doesn’t even deserve to try his hand at dadding and he damn well knows it, but apparently the universe didn’t get that memo because these kids need somebody and it looks like it’s gonna be him?

And then he’s still just out there doing his double agent thing like, “I am the night and I work alone.” Please ignore the two Force sensitive girls who are absolutely not in any way his apprentices, and the overprotective medical droid who travels with him everywhere, and the literal army of free droids whose network is slowly but surely spreading throughout the galaxy.

Yes, he definitely works alone.

[deilenaardramatics]

==> You are  Davian Strydr  Jonnah Egbert and you are going to commit a crime.

With this amazing revelation that you’ve been all magicked into your spade’s shitty flesh vessel late this evening, you were also informed by said spade that he had a transaction he needed to make later on that involved illegal guns or at least the illegal obtaining of guns anyway and this makes you extremely nervous.

You are an actor. Not an imperial criminal.

You managed to get a bit of a soft lunch from Davian’s mediculler and some medicines for his ahem chemical cravings, so you’re doing a bit better now than you were a few hours ago. You aren’t lightheaded, you aren’t bleeding everywhere. check and check. You’re a bit sore still and slightly sleepy but at least that much you can handle. You’ve been on sets for upwards of 18 hours before just filming the same scenes over and over and over ad nauseam. You’ve even resorted to living in your trailer for months on end while a movie was being filmed, on a couple of jobs you’ve taken. You know exhaustion. 

Of course, just before you realize you have to leave, both your mateprit and pitch decide it’s a good idea to double team you in DM’s, flirting mercilessly with you and in your temporary body, that really just does not make things any god damn easier. Good lord. At least if you got a wiggly before you could will it away after a couple minutes but Dav’s trouser snake is god damn relentless. 

Sighing heavily, you roll off his sleeping platform and try to rummage through his room to find some decent clothes to wear. Just casual shit, nothing too tight around the crotch, all things considered, and after slipping something on, you sigh louder before grabbing necessities and walking out of his room to go flag Jay down.

You can’t wait to go over to Jake’s later on and not have to worry about other people seeing you right now.

Thank god for Jay too because she knows what the two of you are up to and you and her make your way towards the outskirts of the town Dav seems to be stationed at. Jay gives you a bit of moral support and tries to hype you up a bit before meeting the fence who’s selling you the weaponry.

It’s just like acting. It’ll be fine, just do your business and take the goods back to the ship. 

Thankfully by the time you and Jay get to the destination, your boner seems to have gone away for now through all of the worrying and internal fussing. A shifty looking scrapyard. Thank the gods for Davian’s shades because they’re a lifesaver. You really don’t blame him for using them all the time. Scuttling under the fencing and following her through the heaping piles of metal, you two round a corner and come across a short, odd looking cat alien and instantly you take a deep breath and take your place in front of Jay. 

The fluffy little alien is standing next to a hover-truck with a tarped pallet on the back and you throw them a little “hey there” whilst lazily gesturing a wave. Once you approach them, the both of you exchange a handshake, a couple words and pass the weird felid Dav’s card which is quickly taken and swiped through a slot on the alien’s wrist bracelet. A couple button presses and they chuff before handing the card back with a bit of a strange, wry smile before gesturing to the truck. The three of you pile in and you and Jay quiet down as the alien kicks up the truck, pulling out of the scrapyard and makes their way down some backstreets with Jay directing the lot of you back to the ship. 

Once you’re back to relatively familiar territory you unclam slightly and get out once parked. Rounding to the driver side, you thank the driver, offering another handshake and walking around the back to help unload the pallet. Almost instantly you regret trying to take on all the weight considering these just so happen to be really big guns and you are only just reminded that you are, in fact, not cerulean anymore.

Jay giggles up a storm as you make a bit of a pained sound, knowing full and well why you made it to begin with and asks if you’re okay through her laughter. Which you wave off. Mainly because you’ve just embarrassed yourself but also because you don’t want to not help her. You just feel a bit useless and weak, because you could have totally lifted the thing over your head by yourself if you were... well... you. The medicine you took beforehand also has you a bit off kilter, but after you muscle through, you and Jay pull the pallet off the truck and you huff through your nose, rounding the back of the truck and giving the alien a thumbs up and watching as they drive away. 

Feeling a bit of warmth down your lip, you idly wipe and you frown when you look at your hand and see crimson.

It still wigs you out a bit.

Well... Now that it’s on a wide dolly, the two of you start back up your chatter right where you left off and roll the weapons up into the ship without much of a problem from there. Jay helps you start unpacking once the ship is closed up and you take a moment to catch your breath and tend to your new nosebleed. 

[pinkykitten]

Accident

Zach Dempsey x Davina Jensen (who is portrayed by Danielle Campbell)

Warning: some curse words, mentions Hannah’s death, bullying

Specifics: oc, fluff, angst, bullying, comedy, aesthetic, art, nerd, 400 followers competition

People: Zach Dempsey, (oc) Davina Jensen, Clay Jensen, Tyler Down, Matt Jensen, Lainie Jensen, Bryce Walker, Montgomery De La Cruz, Scott Reed, nurse, Hannah Baker (mentioned), Skye Miller (mentioned) 

Words: 3,418

Masterlist

Requested: By @misspygmypie  OC x Zach Dempsey! Her name is Davina,Clays younger sister. She's 5ft, has tattoos and is shy/nerdy/a loser like Clay (they're like besties). Zach sees her hitting her head on a locker accidentally and brings her to the nurse, then takes her home and asks Clay about her the next day. In the end Zach takes her out to a roller skating rink as date. His buddies make fun of him for dating her but Zach kisses her at school in front of everyone, making them "official".

Authors Note: i was so happy to announce the winner of the 400 followers competition, which was the one and only @misspygmypie. thank u so much for participating and to all of u that did. i luved this idea i thought it was so unique and special all ur oc’s fam r special to me 😊. i luved everything about this and i tried to incorporate everything that brigitte gave me. thank u for the request and again thank u all for 400 followers i still am in shock. u guys are amazing, and just thank u all for liking my stories. feedback is much appreciated here. enjoy MY GORGEOUS CHILDREN! hope u like this brigitte, this ones for u!

previous oc story for my 300 followers: Zach Dempsey x oc Adeline Foster

“C’mon Dav (said like dove but with an a so dav but kinda with an accent) wake up,” Clay groaned as he shook Davina from her slumber.

Big brothers were sometimes tough to handle, especially Clay Jensen. 

Davina shook in her sleep, trying to swat away her annoying brother of hers, “leave me alone! Wake me up later!”

Just then their dad walked in, Matt Jensen, “whats going on here? Mom made breakfast for the two of you, you guys have to already be ready for school.”

Clay pointed to Davina, “as you can see dad thats what I have been trying to do.”

Davina’s dad sighed and patted her softly, “wake up sweetheart, you need to go to school today remember?”

Davina shot up, while rubbing her eyes, “why? School sucks!”

Matt shrugged while rubbing her back, “I want you both downstairs. Now.”

Davina got out of her bed, slipping on her s’mores slippers.

She yawned and stretched, while her brother just watched, obviously annoyed. “”Can you hurry up with your stretching or do I need to call dad for that too?”

Davina smacked her older brothers head and grinned, “good morning to you too Clay Jensen!”

She ran downstairs to greet her mother and to partake in the breakfast. She was always seated next to Clay. 

Ever since Davina came into this world her and Clay have been like two peas in  a pod. They always acted as if they were twins, knowing what the other one wanted to say, finishing each others sentences. Clay was her best friend, the most important person in her life. 

Thats why it hurt Davina when Clay had to deal with Hannah’s death. It made her sad but her brother was devastated. Clay tried to brush off her death, to try to say he was fine, that it didn’t cause him any pain but deep down Davina knew that, that was not true. 

“So Skye Miller, hmmm? Seems pretty legit, funny my brother goes for someone who also has tattoos,” Davina chuckled at the thought while her brother blushed down in his cereal bowl in embarrassment. 

“Really? Well I hope we can meet her one day,” their mother, Lainie Jensen, said as she put the OJ in the middle of the table. “And honey how many times have I told you I want you to cover up your tattoos?”

“But mom-,” Davina protested. 

“Honey, they make her who she is, and if kids can’t see that those art pieces on her arm make her Davina, then they need to skedaddle away,” her father stood up for her, drinking some of his morning coffee while reading something on his ipad.

“Well just be careful okay. Love the dress though, you look beautiful,” Davina’s mother caressed her cheek. “Always reminding me of those vintage tv shows.”

“Thanks mom.”

Matt peered from the top of his glasses, “What’d you kids think of doing after school?”

In unison Davina and Clay said, “we’re gonna be watching The Empire Strikes Back of course.”

Davina looked up smirking, yep she and her brother were a couple of nerdy kids. Star wars, comic books, video games, all those things and more, thats all she has ever known. 

Their father took his spectacles off and with a confused face just stared at his two children as if they said they were going to eat the toilet. All Davina heard being muttered was a, “thats just creepy.”

Davina laughed and stood up hastily running to the door. “Clay today I’m driving so...lets go!”

Clay groaned in annoyance and quickly grabbed his book bag to try to keep up with her. 

School was a war zone.

Indeed it is.

Stepping into that school made Davina nervous, anxious. Being Clay Jensen’s sister was no easy task. Especially with his reputation at school, people viewed her without getting to know her as a stupid loser. She felt shy, and in many ways unworthy. 

“Whelp getting ready for all those stares,” Davina shrugged. “Crap I forgot to give Tyler that book he borrowed. I’ll be right back.”

Clay gripped her arm and his eyes bugged out, “Dav I don’t think thats such a good idea. I mean Tyler kinda was a-”

“Stalker,” she finished his sentence.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry Clay, you don’t always need to protect me. I’m fine. Go enjoy your girlfriend,” Davina pointed in front of her and Clay turned his head to see Skye waving to him. When Clay turned back to Davina, Davina had walked away backwards while producing kissing sounds. “Go get her lover boy.”

Clay shook his head, chuckling. 

Thankfully, Tyler was close by. “Hey Tyler,” Davina waved to him. 

Tyler gave a shy smile and closed his locker, “H-h, hey Davina whats, whats um going on?”

“I forgot to give you this last week. Thank you so much for letting me borrow this like you’re a life saver!”

“Oh yeah no problem, hey what was you’re favorite part?”

Davina leaned by his locker, placing her hand on her hip. “I love the part when they figure out who the murderer is, to me it seemed super creepy.”

“Really? Oh my god thats my favorite part two, it like gave me the chills!”

Davina nodded and rubbed her arms up and down. Tyler cleaned his camera lens and gulped. 

“Hey Davina, I’ve heard you really like video games and stuff. I was just wondering, me and a couple of friends are gonna play some games at my house this Saturday. Would you like to come? I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to I get it but if you-”

“Sure, I would love to go over. I love video games like I’m obsessed! I might beat you though!”

Tyler was shocked, brushing back his brown curls and licking his lips, “ye-yeah, yeah, okay, yeah, so I’ll get that ready and yeah just show up!”

Just as Davina was about to answer, Bryce and his crew started laughing and saying, “the creep and the loser.” Davina turned around and gave them a glare. But then as she turned her head she saw the tall Zach Dempsey. Her breathing stopped and she was just consumed by the presence of Zach. 

“Anyways thanks Tyler see you later,” Davina left to go put her items in her locker. Her eyes still glued to the dashing Dempsey.

The education rolled off all the teachers tongue as if they were fruit roll ups. Calculus and physics filled up the air all the way to the top. Davina sat at her desk not paying any attention to the class but her thoughts wondered to Zach. She has always been too shy to speak to Zach, so she didn’t know much about him. Only that he was into sports and a part of Bryce’s snotty group. 

The bell rang which meant for lunch and Davina sprinted out of the art class to the lunch room to reunite with her brother. 

Art. One of life’s beautiful appearance of feelings. In the art class they have, Davina was the head of it. Not many children were in that club but she didn’t mind just as long as she got to do what she adored. 

Davina running to her destination didn’t see a locker open and surely enough. 

Wham!

She met harshly with the locker. The sound of the metal echoed through the halls. Davina fell back, clutching her forehead which was already starting to bruise. 

“Hey, hey are you okay,” came a loud deep voice. 

Davina’s vision was cloudy, and she groaned in pain. “Ouch, my head.”

“You guys wait for me back there. I’m gonna take her to the nurse’s office,” came that voice again. 

A pair of strong arms lifted Davina from the floor. She sighed and slowly regained her vision. She looked up to see who was carrying her, and the sight almost made her want to dig a whole and die in it. 

It was Zach Dempsey. 

“Zach! I think I’m good, you don’t need to do all this,” she giggled shyly. She clutched for Zach’s shirt tightly, afraid of falling from his height. 

“We’re almost there. You hit your head pretty badly, I don’t really want you to pass out.”

Davina nodded and just stayed there like a limp dog. 

She was carried to the nurses office. Feeling so embarrassed that her cheeks were a bright pink. 

Zach gently laid her on one of the beds there. Davina looked everywhere but him, feeling shy. 

“What happened to her,” asked the nurse nonchalantly as if many children looked like this. 

“She hit her head on a locker, you can see the bruise right here,” Zach softly pointed to her bruise. Davina hissed and Zach apologized, he than sat in a nearby chair waiting patiently for Davina. 

Davina tried not to laugh, Zach was so big compared to the chair he was sitting on. 

“I’ll go get an ice pack and call her parents,” the nurse walked on out to get the items. 

“Whats so funny,” Zach smiled charmingly. 

“Its just you look so large compared to the chair you’re sitting on.”

Zach laughed along side her, awaiting for the nurse to come back. And planting a new seed within them. 

Davina and Zach connected that day. Joking around like a couple of high school kids...wait thats what they are...anyways, joking around. Making each other smile and laugh and just appreciate each others company. 

Clay took Davina home and was furious with her as he put it, “artsy fartsy clumsiness.” She couldn’t help but giggle at that name. 

When they arrived home, Davina’s parents were also irate. Scolding her for not being more aware of her surroundings and not watching out. Now she wore a huge bruise on her forehead. 

“Great,” she muttered to herself as she stared in the mirror. 

Since the dilemma Davina’s parents did not want her going to school the next day so instead Clay got to go only. 

Davina seeing that her mother and her brother had left got on another one of her dresses and set off to her favorite places, first Starbucks then her favorite diner. 

Rosie’s Diner. 

Davina got her favorite Starbucks drink, enjoying the taste of the liquid in her mouth. Next door to Starbucks was the diner. 

The door made a ring as she opened the old, dingy, door. She sat by the biggest window and pulled out her favorite book. 

Reading was like another world to her. She could put herself anywhere and she was just...there. By a pirate ship in the deep blue sea. On her way to a trip to Mars. She could go anywhere when she read. 

In the afternoon, Davina arrived back home. She walked in on her brother texting his girlfriend. 

“Oooooh Skye, whats she got to say,” Davina wiggled her eyebrows. 

“You’re such a weirdo! Hey have you been talking a lot to Zach?”

Davina’s eyes widened and looked to her hands, her cheeks becoming red. “No.”

“Oh my god Dav, you’re lying!”

“Fine! He’s the one that carried me yesterday to the nurses office right after I hit my head.”

“Wait, wait, what? He carried you? Like, like in as a baby, carried you?”

Davina bit her lip and nodded. 

“Dav, you got to be so careful with those creeps especially that dic* head Zach.”

Davina rolled her eyes and plopped down on Clay’s bed. “You’re not my dad Clay. I’m fine. Besides we just talked, end of story.”

“Not quite,” Clay said as he laid next to you. “He’s been asking about you the whole day. Asking me if you were okay, about your head. He wants to know, and he asked me this personally, if you would like to go on a date with him, at the skating rink?”

Davina punched Clay lightly and shot up. “Are you serious?”

“Jesus Christ Dav, what the heck was that about? Yes I’m serious. Jeesh I think you split my innards.”

“Drama queen,” Davina pushed her lips out. “When though? Aghhh I’m so lost at dating, its just another world I don’t know anything about!”

“Tonight, but hey you’re not actually thinking of going right?”

Davina stopped her pacing and planted her feet sternly to the ground, “why not? I don’t see the issue, Clay he actually likes me. I’ve never gotten that kind of attention, I mean look at me. Why can’t I just have fun for one day?”

Clay shook his head but then sighed in defeat, “fine! You win! Just please be careful okay.”

Davina squealed in excitement and ran to her big brother, “thank you so much Clay! Yes! Oh my god what am I gonna wear?”

Davina sat in the car that her and Clay shared. Waiting for Zach to appear. She was waiting in the parking lot for him at Skatz 4 Dayz.

Davina started to feel as if the date wasn’t going to happen at all. She sighed and felt defeated, she felt played.

“Of course. What did I expect?”

Suddenly, Zach’s car appears. Davina starts to get nervous, tensing up, her palms sweating.

Turning the ignition off and stepping out she makes her way to Zach.

“Hey there, didn’t think you were going to make it,” Davina said truthfully.

Zach gave a confused face, “why wouldn’t I come. Yikes, that bruise does not look good.”

“Crap! I thought I covered it up with makeup. Give me one sec.”

Zach caught her arm and shook his head, “hey you’re fine...actually you’re more than fine. You are really, uhm, beautiful today. But you’re beautiful everyday.”

Davina grinned from ear to ear, “why thank you Mr. Dempsey, shall we?” She grabbed his arm.

“We shall,” he copied her.

While walking in they see a dog. A black poodle to be exact.

“Oh my god how cute is he,” Davina shouted in happiness.

Davina was such a dog lover. Everything about dogs she loved. Since she could remember, she’s always wanted a dog. Enjoying how sweet they were to their owner, they were mans best friend.

Davina crouched down to the dog’s level and said, “look Zach I can speak dog. Hello doggy nice to meet you.”

Davina shook the dog’s hand and giggled at his cuteness. Zach also giggled but not at the dog, its was how sweet and adorable Davina was acting.

“Dogs are so cute right,” Davina asked staring oblivious to her tall date. Zach nodded and took a hold, shyly, of Davina’s hand.

Her face reddened and she tried to hide behind him.

She felt as if she was in a rom com, how in the world was Davina Jensen supposed to behave on a date?

The whole date was perfect, Davina was on cloud 9. Her heart was beating so fast she could hear it. She was madly in like to Zach. She truly liked him with all her being. They talked through the whole time. Holding hands during the skating, and her falling a couple of times only to be saved by the heroic Zach.

They finished each others sentences, had the same likes and dislikes. Complained about schools, laughed over the same comedic jokes. Both felt as if they have known each other for eternity.

They were both on the skating floor when out of the corner of her eye Davina spots Bryce’s group.

“Is that Dempsey,” yelled Monty.

“Holy shi* it is. And he’s with that weird Davina girl. Hey bro!” Bryce called running to both of them.

Davina closed her eyes knowing what they were going to say.

“Hey brother,” Bryce said as he gave a handshake to Zach. Zach was uncomfortable.

“Ooooh didn’t know you were into the weird ones,” Scott giggles while smirking at Davina.

“Hey aren’t you Jensen’s sister?” Bryce asked giving you his charming, wicked smile.

“Yes, I’m his younger sister. I’m sorry I gotta go though, my mom is probably gonna want me home soon.”

“Whats with all the tattoos,” another one in the group asked. Davina self consciously tried covering her arms, wishing she would of listened to her mothers advice.

“She weird like Skye, duh dude,” Monty laughed.

Davina growled angrily, “Skye is not weird okay. Don’t say that.”

“Ooooh,” they all said, almost tempting Davina.

“Guys I think it will be better if you guys leave,” Zach tried to stop the situation.

“Dude, whatever you can say can be said in front of us,” Bryce said crossing his arms.

“..its nothing,” Zach looked down.

“So what are you guys dating? Cause if you are, its like bro you can do sooooo much better!!!!” Monty put his tongue out and laughed like an idiot.

“Dude thats just wrong,” Bryce cackled as well, agreeing with Monty.

“Guys stop, enough you’re gonna hurt the losers feelings,” one of the other guys said in a whiny voice.

Tears were coming into Davina’s eyes and she just sprinted away from all of the commotion.

Zach ran after her but it was too late Davina was gone like a ghost.

“They laughed at me like a loser! They made fun of me and bullied me,” Davina cried to her brother, Clay.

Clay rubbed her arms up and down, soothing her. She came to him crying hysterically, and Clay knew he should not have let her go.

She now sat on the bed of Clay’s explaining what happened. Why her heart was broken, why she felt so much pain.

“Its okay, you’re here with me. You’re safe,” Clay whispered cuddling with his little baby sister.

She sniffled and just wept some more into his shirt. They both laid down on his bed, cuddling and just being in eachs other presence.

“I’ll make that bastar* pay for what he did,” Clay swore under his breath.

“I should of listened to you Clay, I was so stupid to think he wanted to be with me. Stupid!”

Unfortunately, Davina had to go to school the next day. She felt scared, what would he say? What would happen?

She felt as if she was about to suffocate. She felt fragile.

Upon entering the school the group of Bryce’s was there but no Zach. Davina went to her locker and angrily, stuffed it with her items.

She felt like crying. That is until Zach came in with a megaphone in his hand.

“Davina please listen to me,” Zach pleaded when he saw her. Davina shook her head repeating the word no over and over.

Zach turned on the megaphone, “Davina, I am so sorry for what happened yesterday. I know I should of protected you and I wanted to but, I failed to do that. I made you feel ashamed to be yourself. The truth is Davina I love your tattoos, I love that you’re shy, that you can talk to animals, that you love Star Wars, that you love art, because the thing is Davina I love everything about you. I like you a lot. Like a lot a lot.”

Davina chuckled at his comment, she saw that the group of turds was watching. Monty looked all mad, with Bryce looking concerned. Everyone at school watched Zach.

“You are amazing Davina, I’m sorry you were treated that way, cause you shouldn't have been. You deserved to be treated with respect, so I’m gonna make it up to you. I’m gonna show you that we are official, and just how much I really like you.”

Davina waved her hands in a no matter and stuttered trying to tell Zach she didn’t like where this was going. She felt Zach was about to ruin his reputation. 

Zach dropped the megaphone and went to Davina. He gently pulled her by the waist and in front of everyone he kissed her. The kiss was slow but sensual. Zach’s big hands were placed on her pale cheeks, deepening the kiss. He kissed Davina in front of everyone, in front of Bryce’s group, heck even in front of Clay. Davina didn’t matter, she was kissing...him. The one that made her happy, that made her feel that she wasn’t ashamed to be herself. 

“I’m sorry Davina,” Zach whispered to only her after the kiss. 

Davina gave Zach another peck, “I forgive you, but how about we go somewhere? Just the two of us and maybe, I don’t know go watch a movie?”

Zach smiled, “I would love that,” and wrapped his arms around her as they walked to the exit together. 

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Waking Up in Vegas

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9

Pairing: Daveed x Reader

Word Count: About 3.4k

Tagging: @toomanyfandoms109  @drugsdiggs  @serkewen12  @shy-and-awkward-daveed  @nadialinett14  @miightymiighty   @kayleebrynnnn  @pixeledpeople  @olivelongnprosper  @ninatheotter  @twentyonehamiltrash  @lunaaugurium  @jantales  @luna1350  @arii-the-future @juliaguliaa  @tallish-hobbit  @le-sejour

Warning: My sad attempt at slight smut and dry humping

A/N: This took forever to finish! My bad guys lol. Part nine will be the final part!

Day 20

Daveed was laying across the couch snoring softly. I needed to wake him up to tell him he was stuck with me, but it wouldn’t change anything if I didn’t. I took my time taking a shower and getting ready, mentally preparing myself for the conversation we would have later. By the time I stepped out of my bedroom, he was pulling himself off the couch.

He stood, stretching and grinning as his eyes landed on me.

“Good morning”

“Morning”

“Do you have any plans for today? I won’t stay longer than you want me to”, he yawned

“Well...you're going to be here longer than expected anyway”, I said as I pointed to the window

He stepped to the window and peaked outside, “Dammit. Did you know it was supposed to snow today?”

“No. Apparently it was supposed to start last night. With everything that happened, I’m not surprised we didn’t notice”

Daveed nodded and looked everywhere but my face. He knew we had to talk eventually, but he probably wasn’t in a rush given what happened last night.

“You can use my shower if you want”, I said to break the silence, “It’s not like you’re going anywhere anytime soon”

“I feel like I’m in Misery”, he said with a smirk

A smile spread across my face as I started to laugh, “I change my mind. You can trek through the snow and make your way to your hotel”

“I’m just joking”, he paused as that same soft smile appeared, “Where is your shower?”

I quickly pointed him in the right direction. The same feeling I’ve been trying to avoid for weeks was back, but for once I didn’t wasn’t it to stop. About thirty minutes into making breakfast, the bathroom door opened as he called my name.

“Yeah?”, I answered as I came around the corner

As soon as I saw him, I stopped in my tracks. He stood at the entrance of the bathroom door, his towel hanging dangerously low off his hips.

“Uhh...I didn’t think you were going to come down the hall. I don’t have any other clothes to put on”

“(Y/N)?”, he called again

He waved his hand in my face, “My face is up here”

As he smirked, my entire face started to burn and I ran to my room. I threw him the only thing I had that could probably fit him, then went back to the kitchen.

“Really?”, he called as I disappeared around the corner

A few minutes later, he entered the kitchen in the unicorn onesie my mother bought me that was a few sizes too large. I never went back to exchange it for a smaller size, but it certainly serves its purpose now.

“Why do you have this?”, he grinned

“My mother got that for me not too long ago. I haven’t had the chance to take it back”, I answered as I flipped another pancake, “You can keep it. It looks nice on you”

Daveed blushed as he walked out the kitchen to fold the blankets. He turned the TV on and most of the news stations were telling us that the snow wouldn’t stop coming down until tomorrow morning. Everything was closed until the snow stopped which wouldn’t be for another day or two.

We finished eating and cleaning in silence. The tension hung heavy in the air, but neither of us were prepared to bring it up. Most of the morning was spent watching cartoons and reminiscing about our childhoods and past relationships when he turned the TV off and turned to face me.

“The women you saw a few days ago”, he paused, waiting to see if I was ready to begin

When I nodded, he continued, “I know it looked pretty bad, it was bad, but she’s a friend that Rafa and I hang with when we’re in New York. She helps with the workshop, we make music together, and we’re very close”, he paused again to gauge my reaction, “When I stormed out of our session, I was convinced myself that I needed to distract myself from you by finding someone else. So I told her to come over. The second she tried to kiss me, I told her to stop. We spent majority of the day talking about how I felt about you and that  I wanted things to work out between us when our marriage is annulled. She kept telling me to go to you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it”

“Why?”, I asked quietly

“I hurt you.”

I sat quietly as I waited for him to continue. The idea of him with another woman drove me insane, yet I knew I had no right to be upset when he wasn’t mine to begin with. The only person who’s lied so far between the two of us was me. I believed him.

“I didn’t think that after ignoring you again, you would want to speak to me. You have every right to be mad at me”

I sighed before finally looking him in his eyes, “Daveed, you have every right to be mad at me. Ever since you got here, I’ve done everything I could to get you to understand how I felt and I thought that the best way to get you to understand was by hurting you when I knew you had feelings for me. There were probably about a thousand different ways I could have got my point across, but I convinced myself that was my best option”

“You say you don’t have feelings for me because I know you’re only saying it to push me away. It helps you somehow and that hurts knowing that I can’t change that”, he said softly

I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair. Somehow the conversation made the tension feel even worse. I knew what I needed to say to him, it was just a matter of being brave enough to actually say it. I distanced myself from him once again as I got off the couch, pacing back and forth.

“Why are you so calm about this? Why aren’t you upset with me?”, I huffed

“Why did you come to my hotel?”

“Dav--”

“Why did you come to my hotel?”, he challenged, “A few days ago, when I kissed you, you kissed me back. You keep letting me in, then pushing me out again”, he moved himself from the couch and made his way to me, “You’re confused about all of this and I am too. We can figure this out together, if you decide to be honest with me”

He took another step closer, intertwining his fingers in mine. My heart was no longer beating at a steady pace. Our noses brushed against each other, the tension no longer suffocating us.

“(Y/N), we can do this. Just tell me, why were you--?”

“I needed to tell you that…”

“Tell me what?”, he asked softly

Suddenly, I was reminded of the same feeling I tried to push away every time we spent time together and when he kissed me. It was the same feeling that I felt a this moment. Everything was telling me to take that leap and kiss him.

I brushed my nose against his and wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled me closer by wrapping his arm around my waist. His eyes fluttered shut with my lips barely touching his. My lips melted on to his. I tangled my fingers in his hair and he pulled me as close as he possibly could. I back him into the couch, until I was straddling his thighs. My tongue slid into his mouth and he groaned against me. I pulled away when my lungs would no longer take it.

“I wanted to tell you that I didn’t regret kissing you. When you kissed me, it felt like things were falling into place and that scared me. We had a plan and when it went in a different direction, I panicked...I like you”

“I like you too”, he grins

I find myself returning his grin, “I want you in my life Daveed, even after we’re no longer married. Let’s see where this goes and work it out together”

“I like the sound of that”, he beamed as I rest my head on his shoulder

We sat with our fingers still intertwined, watching and laughing at cheesy Hallmark films. By the end of the night, he nodded off and I didn’t bother leaving the couch. As soon as my head touched his chest, he wraps his arms around me refusing to let go.

Day 21

The next day and another onesie later, I walked into the living room, my arms full of games.

“I have Life, Monopoly, Uno, playing cards, checkers, and Twister”

“I’m ready to kick your butt in Uno”, he bubbled

“Bring it on Diggs”

Twenty minutes and three games later. I had two cards left compared to his twelve. He groaned as I placed another card on the pile.

“Uno”, I grinned

“Can we play another game?”

“You said best two out of three and after this game, I’ll be the winner”, I cheered as he put down another card

“Uno out”

He threw his cards on the table, shaking his head at me. I danced around the table and his scowl turned into a smirk.

“Don’t be a sore loser”, I scolded, sitting close enough to lean my head on his shoulder

“If me losing means getting to see you dance like that, then it was worth it”

Daveed kissed my forehead and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

“What’s next? Since you lost, you can choose the next game”

His eyes lit up as he eyed the games thrown across the floor. He walked over to the pile and immediately picked up a box.

“I haven’t played this game in a while”

The two of us were on the twister mat with Daveed’s hands and feet touching the corners of the mat. If he pushed himself up any further it would be a perfect bridge. I was leaning over him. I spun the dial again.

“Left foot red”, I groaned  

For a moment, I didn’t move. Daveed laughed at my predicament. My left foot was currently placed on green.

“There’s no way you’re gonna win this time”, he grinned

“What makes you think I’m going to lose?”

“You have to move your leg and put it on the other side of the mat. How can you do that without falling?”

He had a point, but I would never admit it to him. I looked down at his wide grin. He was ready for a win and I refused to give him the satisfaction. The second I brushed my nose against his, the grin disappeared.

“W-what are you doing?”, he sputtered

“Nothing”, I cooed as I kissed the corner of his mouth

His body shook beneath me as I kissed him again and pressed my body against his. He wrapped one arm around me, then fell to the ground with his lips still on mine. I indulged for a couple of seconds before pulling away quickly and began to laugh at his confused grin.

“See what happens when you underestimate me?”, I said as I got off the floor, “Looks like you lose again Diggs”

He glared at me as he got off the floor, “You’re not getting away with that”

I slowly backed away and he took a step closer until I turned on my heels and ran as fast as I could to my room. My attempt to crawl over my bed to reach the other side was thwarted when he grabbed my ankle and pulled me back. I shrieked as he pulled me closer.

As soon as I turned on my back, his fingers are digging themselves into my sides and a laugh escaped my lips.

“Stop”, I gasped, trying to catch my breath

“Not until you say you’re sorry”

He flipped me on my back as he continued tickling me, “No”

“Oh really?”

He reached up and tickled me under my arm. I screamed even louder.

“All you have to do is apologize”, he whispered in my ear

“Okay, I’m sorry”, I gasped as I squeezed my legs together

Daveed, nearly on top of me, held himself up by his forearms. His eyes were on my lips and a shy smile spread across his face. I placed my fingers on his shoulders and smiled back as I pulled him in for a kiss. My legs wrapped around his waist as he fell on top of me.

He began to kiss down my jawline to my neck. When he found my spot, I pushed my hips up to meet his. He groaned against my neck as his hips met mine.

“Daveed”, I moaned

Immediately he stopped, pulling away from my lips and lifting himself up again.

“What’s wrong?”, I asked

He was quiet for a moment, contemplating what he needed to say next.

“Should we be doing this? I want to, but won’t this make things more complicated?”

I sighed as I unwrapped my legs from his hips, “You’re right. I want to to too, but now isn’t the time”

“We’ll get there at some point”, he grinned as he kissed me again, “I’ll see you in the morning”

He was already off of me and headed for the door. Seeing him walk out the door reminded of all the times he left whenever we were fighting, which was quite often. I wanted him near me.

“You can stay in here...if you want”, I blurt out

Daveed stopped in his tracks and eyed me skeptically, “You sure about that?”

“Yeah. We can set boundaries if you want”

“Boundaries”, he laughed, “For sleeping?”

“Don’t want to make you uncomfortable”, I mumbled

He grinned as he jumped on my bed, occupying the other side. He was on his side facing me.

“How about we stay on our sides of the bed? No touching”

“I can work with that”

He smiled and leaned forward to kiss me again, “Goodnight (Y/N)”

“I thought you said no touching”

I laughed as he glared at me, “Goodnight Daveed”

Day 22

As I started to wake up, I noticed that the snow finally stopped falling. In a day or two, I would be back at work, meaning that Daveed would be going back to his hotel soon. Maybe he would be up for another sleepover during his stay.

I heard a soft snore next to my ear and froze. As I remembered agreeing to share my bed with Daveed, I realized his arm was around my waist, tethering me to him and the bed. I slowly tried to get up, but he pulled me back. He moved closer and buried his nose into my neck. As he got comfortable, something hard was resting against my butt. I blushed the moment I realized what it was. Squirming to get out of his hold proved to be futile as I tried to get out of his grip, he pushed his hips against me. In my attempt to move away, I pushed my hips against his. He groaned and began to stir.

“Daveed”, I breathed

He pushed his hips against mine again and froze before jumping off the bed, apologizing profusely and trying to cover himself up.

“It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean to”, I said as calm as possible, trying to hide my blush

“But we said no touching and I feel like--”

“Like it’s something you’ve wanted to do for a while now and acted on it without thinking about it?”, he looked horrified and I couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re not the only one whose thought about it. Like I said it’s fine”

“You’ve thought if it before?”, he questioned

“We woke up naked with no memory of what happened the night before. Of course at some point I’ve wondered what the sex was like”, I said with another blush, “I’m sure you have too”

He finally sat on the bed again, not as close as before, “Yeah, I have actually. Before we spent the day with you, Ava, and Gina that morning, I had a dream about us”

“The day after we kissed, I had a dream about us too”

“Can I ask what happened?”

We both made eye contact and smiled as he laid on his side facing me. I decided to follow suit.

“You guys had just finished filming your movie. Everyone else was partying, but we were in our own little bubble, like in Las Vegas”, I said nervously, “There was a lot of kissing and giggling and smiling”

My blush took over as I avoided all eye contact. He was eyeing me with much curiosity and a soft smile on his face.

“You pulled me into a room and sat me down on the couch. Your lips met mine again until you started kissing my neck, down my chest. Then you were between my legs. I was so close until I woke up and realized Gina and Ava were in the room with me”

Daveed’s hand was under my chin, gently shifting my view to his face, “Don’t be embarrassed when we’re both in the same boat. I dreamt about us having sex that night in Vegas. You were on top and bossing me around. I liked it a little too much”

We were slowly moving closer to each other. His arm wrapped around my waist as our noses touched. He smirked as I bit my lip.

“I’m probably the least bossy person you know”, I quipped

“I know. That’s what made it so sexy”

I pulled him in for another kiss, knowing exactly what I wanted. He groaned as pulled his hair and ground my pelvis against his. Before he could get into it, he pulled away.

“We said no to sex, right?”, he panted

“We did”

“We can stop”

“What if we continue without actually having sex?”, I pondered

He raised his eyebrow, not having a clue what I was referring to until I told him to lay on his back and straddled him. I kissed him again as soon as I felt his length rising against my thigh. I shifted my hips until it was it rested against my core. I slowly moved my hips against him, feeling him rub against me through the fabric of my pajama shorts.

“Shit”, he groaned as squeezed my hips even tighter

I moaned as he rubbed against my clit. My hands were on his chest to keep myself from falling over. Eventually, he pulled me into a rough kiss, leaving me speechless while he picked up the pace. I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled, giving me access to his neck. He began to shake while I kissed down his jawline to his neck. Once I found his sweet spot, I sucked on his neck.

“(Y/N)”, he whimpered as I sucked harder, “Fuck”

I pulled him into another kiss before smiling down at him, “Is this close to your dream?”

Daveed smirked at me, then squeezed his eyes shut as I barely held on. I was so close, but a part of me wanted more.

“Daveed”, I moaned, “I’m so close. I’m…”

Words failed to come out as I flew closer to the edge. I placed my hands on his chest again to pick up the pace and he pushed his hips to match my speed. I nearly screamed as my orgasm washed over me and Daveed followed suit. He was trying to speak as he came down from his high, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

I fell onto his chest, trying to catch my breath. His heart was beating out of control, just like mine. When I looked up at him, he was staring at me in adoration which prompted me to quickly looked away.

“You’re feeling shy after what we just did?”

“A little”

He shifted himself to lay on his side with me leaning into his chest. Daveed kissed my cheek, then my lips.

“I’m glad it snowed this week. I like spending time with you (Y/N)”

“Me too Daveed. You’re welcome to come over again for another sleepover...if you want”

“This is a big change from you not wanting me in your house”, he laughed, “I would love to, but I think we need to take a shower. You can go first”

I hopped off the bed to head to the bathroom. When I turned around, Daveed was still laying down with his eyes on the ceiling and a smile spread across his face. In that moment, he looked content. After finally reconciling with him, I knew I felt the same way.

[stillpartofthisworld]

one to love, one to lose

"Bear."

He nuzzles her neck when he hears the nickname. She strokes his hair in return, humming. They've been oddly quiet tonight, coming home from a boring day in the Astral Plane only to collapse into each other on the bed. They did that a lot these days; a prolonged kiss here, a quick, tight hug there. He supposed it was their way of making up for lost time. He supposed it was their way of coping.

I'm here, you're here. I'm okay, you're okay.

He supposed it was their way of never feeling alone again.

But for now he just lets himself sink into the moment, feeling her hand card through his hair while the other was entangled in one of his own hands, their legs entwined and his lips pressing into her neck.

"Bear," she says again. "Tell me a story."

He sighs, breath dissipating across her skin. "From the beginning?"

"Yeah."

Lucretia's mind-erasure trick hadn't only left Taako with issues.

For Barry, it was like his brain had permanently installed a wall of static over a large portion of his memories. He would forget anniversaries, birthdays and names of the IPRE. He would sometimes see someone, like Carey or Killian or even Angus and introduce himself like it was their first meeting before their facial expression convinced him otherwise. It led to him, disoriented and panicked, waking in the wee hours of the morning and not knowing who was sleeping peacefully next to him.

It was terrifying, forgetting who you were.

It was terrifyingly familiar.

Static would fill his dreams and form his nightmares, and he would wake up in a cold sweat clinging to the sheets for dear life, searching for something he couldn't remember.

Merle had said that it might be his brain, unable to cope with a hundred years of information ("And Pan knows you have to have most info out of all of us, nerd." "Shut up, Merle.") just throwing up a barrier to keep if from having to process all of it at once. He said the barrier would fade with time as his brain adjusted and sifted through the memories.

If touching was their way of coping, this was their way of remembering.

"Well," he mutters, lips leaving her skin so he could speak. "I was born on an eclipse day?

My dad thought it was bad luck, but my mom thought it was some sort of sign that I was going to do something great." He chuckles. "Guess she was right about that, huh?" He feels her squeeze his hand, and he continues.

"They both died. Bad crash. I think I was twenty. I was in university by then," He switches the topic quickly, eager to skip over his childhood. His parents were something he didn't like to dwell on much. "I started in engineering, but I had to take a magic elective and so I chose necromancy. You know," he moves back to look at Lup's face, one arm drawing lazy circles across her back. "I was actually so close to choosing evocation. I went to sign up for it, actually, but the necromancy professor saw me and talked me into taking his class instead."

Her expression breaks into a sleepy smirk, and she kisses the top of his forehead. "You were bullied into it weren't you."

"....yeah."

"You pushover."

He sighs in defeat and she laughs, sending a wave of warmth through him. "At least I ended up liking the class! A lot. I double majored with it and it gave me an idea for a great dissertation."

"Nerd," she says affectionately, and this time she shifts down towards his chest and rests her head there. He presses a kiss into her hair, unraveling it from the bun she had sloppily managed to put it in and runs a hand through it. "What happens next?"

"Uh, I worked in the university's labs with a few professors, won a few research grants, and then..." He trails off for a few seconds before continuing. "Then I got a letter from Professor Davenport. He...he was at the IPRE and he had been cleared to...to go explore the planes. He wanted me as an engineer."

"You were lucky." she whines into his shirt. "Didn't have to go through some shitty application process." He lets out a breathy chuckle and kisses her earlobe.

"Yeah, well, I still had to go through physicals, which were hell. The orientation sessions Dav put us through still didn't prepare us for what...what came next."

He remembers this part with vivid clarity, looking down at his world as it was assaulted with tendrils of darkness, as blood mixed with shadow and screams melted together with the blaring of the ships engines and the overall noise the Hunger carried with itself. He remembers going up, up, up, remembers grabbing onto a rail for support, remembers becoming light and suddenly being everywhere at once-

And then a wall of static slams down on his thoughts. He sucks in a breath, overcome by the sudden disorientation. He feels Lup tense in his arms, but then her hands slide up to cup his face. "Breathe, Barry," she says gently. "Breathe with me."

He struggles to calm his breathing and times it with hers, pushing away his thoughts and concentrating on his heartbeat, on Lup, on anything that wasn't the buzzing in his head and the nausea that bubbled in his stomach.

Okay, he thinks as the discomfort wanes. What comes next?

He reaches through the wall of static.

It pains him to do this but he does it anyway, forcing himself to live through the moments when the Starblaster first ripped through dimensions. It's a headache and a half and he clings to Lup involuntarily, gritting his teeth as the static grows and grates and shrieks in his mind before-

It's terrifying, remembering who you were.

It's terrifyingly familiar.

"The mongooses," he breathes, and he feels Lup's ears quirk up. His hands reach up to brush them, the sensation lending itself to the memory. "We learned their language."

Lup hmms something in the affirmative, distracted by his hands brushing across sensitive skin. He remembers learning this about her in Cycle fifty something, a night spent kissing under multiple sheets and blankets.

He starts to recount their stolen century, pausing every so often to kiss her cheeks, her ears, her jaw. He tells stories and she crackes jokes, sometimes correcting the year or the place. He stops at their time in Legato to look in the eyes and tell her he loves her and she whispers it back, shifting upwards to bump his forehead with her own before leaning in for a kiss, gentle and open-mouthed. They stay like this for a while before he starts again, pointedly skipping their twelve years apart and crashing straight into the present. "And that," he finishes, "Is how we came to be the heroes of the universe, now crashing on a Fantasy Casper mattress and making out like the saps we are."

"The only sap here is you, Barold," she teases but her shoulders are relaxed now, curling into his own body as they embrace.

He just laughs and lets out a yawn, closing his eyes and placing his cheek right below her collarbone. "Well, this sap is going to sleep. Wake me up when Krav calls."

"Because we're gonna be late for work?"

"As always."

"Sounds like a plan, babe," she says and she places her chin on his head.

"G'night, Barry."

"Night, Lup."

They both pray he remembers who he is when he wakes.

[hahanoiwont]

ok im gonna be Predictable but after all the talks we had about dav, what about 47 with davenchurch? or if thats not your style, then just more generally, something between merle and davenport (romantic or not, idc) in Don't Stop Me could be really cool?

“nalright im gonna Do My Best

this is set in Stop Me If You’ve Heard This Before for context, during cycle 98. You don’t need to have read it to understand, though.

“Merle,” Davenport says, not turning around. “Is it urgent? I’m–”

Merle, in complete disregard to his closed-off body language, his dismissive tone, or basic politeness, collapses on the oversized beds.

The IPRE had only had sizes available for the larger races. It just hadn’t been practical to commission two smaller beds when Gnomes, Halflings and Dwarves made up suck a small percentage of the Institute.

Well, now they make up two sevenths of the whole organization. More, sometimes.

More, right now.

Two fifths.

It’s not even a hostile plane.

Davenport shakes his head.

“Not right now, Merle,” he says.

His bed creaks.

“I know you’re scared,” says Merle.

Davenport stops.

“I’m not scared. That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing threatening on this entire plane.”

Merle waits for a moment and he can feel his old friend’s eyebrows raise.

He holds out for a moment more before he can’t stand it. He turns around.

“Look, two of us are dead. We’re getting closer and closer to getting caught every year. I’m allowed to feel, to feel a little defensive, okay? I’m not scared,” he insists, but Merle looks right through him. Damn him.

“We’ll make it,” is all he says. Davenport shakes his head.

“Will we, though? When we start killing ourselves, will we? What hope is there when we’ve given up on ourselves?” Even as he speaks, he feels the frustration grow and he begins to pace. “It just doesn’t make any damn sense, Merle, I can’t–I can’t even keep us going if the crew doesn’t go with.”

It’s every captain’s worst fear, the crew refusing to follow. What good is he if he can’t lead these people to safety? If he can’t even get them to survive day to day? If they don’t trust him to keep them safe? What is he without this mission?

A hand is on his shoulder, halting him.

“But you’re not scared,” Merle says wryly, and he glares. His old friend sobers quickly. “I know. We’ll have a hell of a talk with him when he gets back, and Lup is already sorry. But this wasn’t your fault.”

He shrugs Merle’s hand off to resume pacing, but Merle is standing directly in his way.

“Move,” he says. Merle looks around and shrugs.

“I’m good here.”

Davenport lets out a huff of frustration and walks around him. Now he has to pace awkwardly in a semicircle around the immovable oak that is Merle Hitower Highchurch.

“It’s not like being ‘scared’ would do any good anyway,” he snaps, air-quoting viciously. “What the fuck is the use? It doesn’t make me smarter, it doesn’t make me better, it doesn’t tell me what to do–what the fuck is the point of being scared?”

Merle shakes his head. “I know you’re smarter than that.”

Davenport sits on the bed.

“It doesn’t help,” he says. “It just gets in the way of what I need to do.”

“Feelings tend to do that,” Merle agrees, because he’s kind of a dick sometimes.

Davenport slumps. He should have known better than to argue with Merle in the first place. “How are you holding up?”

Merle shrugs.

“I’m scared, too,” he says, quietly, like he wouldn’t in front of anyone else. “Pissed. At myself for not seeing it, at Taako for doing it. That I couldn’t save either of them. But they’re coming back, and it’s not too late to fix this.”

He joins Davenport on the bed. Just sitting side by side, looking at the room. There are maps everywhere. Davenport had always wanted to be an adventurer. Maybe some day, if they survive this.

Merle, his port in a storm, sits next to him in silence for a little while. They each think through what they need to. Deep thoughts, troubling thoughts.

And then, when he feels ready, Davenport hops up.

“Bridge?” he asks, already getting the cards. Merle cracks his shoulders.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

[burnthemallmood]

Quotes from Ep.3

These are all the quotes from episode 3, courtesy of DragonglassBenjen. If you want to read them, they’re the under the cut.

T: “The bastard of Winterfell.”

J: “The dwarf of Casterly Rock.”

T: “I believe we last saw each other atop the wall.”

J: “You were pissing off the edge, if I remember right.”

T: “At some point, I want to hear how a Night's Watch recruit became King in the North.”

J: “As long as you tell me how a Lannister became Hand to Daenerys Targaryen.”

T: “A long and bloody tale. To be honest, I was drunk for most of it.”

J: “My bannermen think I'm a fool for coming here.”

T: “Of course they do. If I was your Hand, I would have advised against it. General rule of thumb, Stark men don't fare well when they travel south.”

J: “True. But I'm not a Stark.”

  MI: “You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. Rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.”

DAV: “This is Jon Snow. He's King in the North.”

DAE: “Thank you for traveling so far, my lord. I hope the seas weren't too rough.”

J: “The winds were kind, Your Grace.”

DAV: “Apologies, I have a Flea Bottom accent, I know, but Jon Snow is King in the North, Your Grace. He's not a lord.”

DAE: So I assume, my lord, you're here to bend the knee.

J: I am not.

DAE: Well, that is unfortunate. You've traveled all this way to break faith with House Targaryen?

J: Break faith? Your father burned my grandfather alive. He burned my uncle alive. He would have burned the Seven Kingdoms—

DAE: My father was an evil man. On behalf of House Targaryen, I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family. And I ask you not to judge a daughter for the sins of her father. (…) I am the last Targaryen, Jon Snow. Honor the pledge your ancestor made to mine. Bend the knee and I will name you Warden of the North. (…)

J: You're right. You're not guilty of your father's crimes. And I'm not beholden to my ancestor's vows. (...)

DAE: “I was born at Dragonstone. Not that I can remember it. We fled before Robert's assassins could find us. Robert was your father's best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib. Not that it matters now, of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me, I don't remember all their names. I have been sold like a broodmare. I've been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing, through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any god, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn't seen a dragon in centuries, until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn't crossed the sea, any sea. They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, and I will.”(…)

DAV: “You don't believe him. I understand that, it sounds like nonsense. But if destiny has brought Daenerys Targaryen back to our shores, it has also made Jon Snow King in the North. You were the first to bring Dothraki to Westeros? He is the first to make allies of wildlings and Northmen. He was named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, he was named King in the North. Not because of his birthright. He has no birthright, he's a damn bastard. All those hard sons of bitches chose him as their leader because they believe in him. All those things you don't believe in, he faced those things. He fought those things for the good of his people. He risked his life for his people. He took a knife in the heart for his people. He gave his own-- If we don't put aside our enmities and band together, we will die. And then it doesn't matter whose skeleton sits on the Iron Throne.”

 D: “What was that Ser Davos said about "taking a knife in the heart" for his people? Did you notice that?”

T: “You must allow them their flights of fancy. It's dreary in the North.”

  “I'm sorry for all that's happened to you. I'm sorry it had to happen here, in our home. It was so beautiful that night. Snow falling, just like now. And you were so beautiful, in your white wedding dress.” Bran to Sansa 7x03.

“Don't fight in the North, or the South. Fight every battle, everywhere, always, in your mind. Everyone is your enemy. Everyone is your friend. Every possible series of events is happening all at once. Live that way and nothing will surprise you. Everything that happens will be something that you've seen before.” Littlefinger to Sansa 7x03

“I'd hate to die like your son. Clawing at my neck, foam and bile spilling from my mouth, eyes blood red, skin purple. Must have been horrible for you, as a Kingsguard, as a father. It was horrible enough for me. A shocking scene. Not at all what I intended. You see, I'd never seen the poison work before. Tell Cersei. I want her to know it was me.” Olenna to Jaime 7x03

“I've done my part. I've brought ice and fire together.” Melisandre to Varys 7x03