#they end up returning to the original partially to be closer to her and partially because it feels the most like home to them

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt my dupe ocs again... Maybe Quinn does have hashtag issues actually

[rileyslibrary]

I love your sense of humour and have cracked up at your stories multible times. Maby you can find some inspiration in this:

Price ordering the team to an etiquette training so they know how to behave in case they have to go under cover in a more "fancy" environment (or the upcoming mission may require something like this). I'm thinking about Ghosts "sausage fingers" from the origami bit on a delicate litte cake fork... Or him needing to *converse* with someone.

I think putting these hard soldiers in a situation that's out of their comfort zone is always a fun read!

Thank you for letting us enjoy your fantastic writing! <3

Be gentle, man!

Relationship: TF141 x F!Reader with a potential Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader (platonic?) on the horizon. Also there’s an OC in the story.

Word Count: 1,598 (approx. 7-8 min reading time)

Notes: I began writing this last night as a joke, and couldn’t stop. Thank you SO MUCH for inspiring me to do this, anon. It’s a crackfic btw. (There’s a part 2 now here)

———————————————————————

The training room feels out of place compared to its usual purpose. Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the once-busy gym has been transformed into a classroom for an unlikely lesson—manners, of all things. Table manners, to be precise.

“Talk about Fitness Vs. Finesse,” Soap whispers, and you playfully nudge his side. The comment reaches Gaz’s ears, and he lets out a chuckle. Yet, Price’s death stare reclaims your attention and brings you back to focus.

You all sit around a long, polished mahogany table atop the gym’s boxing ring, admiring the delicate china and crystal glassware set before you. It reminds you of Aunt Claire’s preserved collection, which rarely leaves its cabinet. Lady Theodora, your etiquette instructor, assures you that each piece serves a purpose, and you will put them all to use. Every. Single. One of them.

Lady Theodora, the epitome of timeless confidence, moves gracefully around the table. Her silver hair is slicked back, framing a face that exudes years of wisdom and experience. Her Bordeaux-coloured shawl billows behind her as she glides, catching the gentle breeze her steps create. She pauses behind Price’s chair and reveals the reason behind today’s masterclass: an undercover operation.

“In the world of espionage, where appearances can mean the difference between life and death,” she says in a soft voice, “the art of etiquette becomes a weapon, a shield, and,” she concludes, resting her hand on Price’s shoulder, “your ticket to survival.”

“Bollocks.”

All eyes are drawn to the far end of the table, where a shadowy figure prefers to go unnoticed but isn’t afraid to express doubts. The only visible sign of life is a hand fidgeting with the butterknife.

“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant.” Lady Theodora says, and Ghost leans forward, revealing his unmasked—and visibly annoyed—face.

“We’re soldiers, not knights,” he claims. “Teaching us how to use all these,” he says, motioning to the various utensils before him, “is a waste of time, both yours and mine.”

Lady Theodora regards him gently as if looking at a child throwing a tantrum. She smiles and walks behind him, gripping the back of his chair.

“You seem quite certain of your own competence and doubtful of mine, Mr Riley,” she says, amused.

Ghost tilts his head to the side, partially facing her.

“With all due respect, Lady Theodora,” he replies, “I don’t believe you fully comprehend how such missions operate.”

Lady Theodora lets a light chuckle as she moves closer to Ghost’s face.

“My record of 25 confirmed kills, three of which were accomplished with a butterknife like the one in your hand, might suggest otherwise,” she admits. “Now, would you kindly move your seat forward, Lieutenant? I’ll show you how to act like a proper gentleman.”

Ghost’s Adam’s apple bobbles as he swallows hard. He returns the butterknife to its original position and pushes his chair forward with Lady Theodora’s help.

Gaz clears his throat and looks at Soap.

“Imagine her dinner parties,” he whispers so Price doesn’t hear him, “they must be perfectly executed.”

“Bet she makes a killer soufflé,” Soap whispers back.

You look at them and mutter, “You two are beyond help.” Unfortunately, it’s your own comment that catches Price’s attention this time, and he gives you a stern warning to behave.

“Let’s get started,” Lady Theodora says. “Projecting confidence and grace requires proper posture: sit up straight, shoulders back, and imagine a string pulling you upward from the crown of your head.”

You all adjust your posture, attempting to imitate Lady Theodora. Ghost used to a more relaxed posture, finds it difficult to maintain the required formality. His broad shoulders hunch forward, and he struggles to keep his legs straight.

“Excellent,” Lady Theodora remarks, catching Ghost’s struggle but choosing not to comment further. “Next, we shall delve into the art of dining. Each utensil on the table has a specific purpose, and it is essential to use them correctly.”

She points to the array of utensils laid out before you. Multiple forks, knives, and spoons of various sizes and shapes make the sight overwhelming.

“The outermost utensils are for the earlier courses, while the inner ones are for the later ones.” Lady Theodora says, “It’s like unwrapping a gift, one course at a time.”

You all nod and place the napkin on your lap to begin the process.

Ghost’s ingrained military habits take over when food is served, causing him to devour it quickly. He shovels forkfuls of food into his mouth without looking up and barely pausing to chew.

“Mr Riley,” Lady Theodora addresses Ghost, who shoots his head up to look at her. “I understand the military inclination to eat fast, but we must remember that the food isn’t going anywhere. Take your time, savour each bite, and enjoy your meal, please.”

“Sorry ’bout that.” Ghost mumbles with his mouth full.

Lady Theodora raises an eyebrow. “Mr Riley, it is impolite to speak with your mouth full,” she reminds him. “Please, swallow your food before continuing.”

Ghost swallows and clears his throat. “Apologies, Lady Theodora,” he mutters.

Lady Theodora smiles and nods at Ghost’s response. “Very well, Lieutenant Riley,” she says. “Remember, dining is about more than just the food; it’s also about the company and the experience.”

As the training continues, you witness Soap’s attempts to initiate a proper conversation, only to subconsciously bring up military strategies. Gaz, on the other hand, struggles with small talk and, when asked about his hobbies, blurts out his love of explosions.

“Kerosene is one hell of a—”

“No kerosene talk on the table, Sergeant,” Lady Theodora interrupts. “How about we talk about something more appropriate, like, for example, what did you do today?”

“You’re not going to like it.” He replies.

“Did it involve kerosene?” She asks and receives multiple excited nods from Gaz.

Ghost forgets about his napkin while using the finger bowl and instinctively flicks his hands to dry them. Droplets of water scatter across the table, and Lady Theodora steps forward with a calm smile. She retrieves his napkin and hands it to him. “Remember, Lieutenant,” she whispers, “the napkin is your ally.”

Throughout this ordeal, Price seems to be the only one who already has a natural fluidity in his movements. Like he already knows about etiquette.

You compliment his impeccable manners, but Lady Theodora intervenes before Price can respond.

“Oh, that’s because the Captain already received my services a few years ago,” she reveals, winking.

Price, caught off guard, coughs and sputters, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. After regaining his composure, he clears his throat and grins.

“Yes, well, Lady Theodora’s guidance has been, um, invaluable,” he manages to say and lowers his gaze to his plate. Gaz raises an eyebrow, and Soap gives a sly smile.

With the etiquette training completed, Price gracefully positions his utensils on his plate and folds his napkin. Lady Theodora hands him a file stack, which he distributes to you.

“These files contain detailed background information for your assigned roles,” he explains. “Study them carefully; familiarise yourselves with the personas you will embody, and don’t worry; with Lady Theodora’s help, you’ll have plenty of time to learn how to carry yourselves.”

He watches you all as you take hold of your respective files, scanning the pages and absorbing the details that will shape your performances.

“Gaz, within those pages, you’ll uncover the roadmap to shape your tech persona, along with essential contacts and valuable industry insights,” Price declares.

“A startup entrepreneur,” Gaz mutters and nods, “nice.”

“Soap,” Price continues, “your file contains the lineage and history of an alleged oil tycoon family; you’ll assume the identity of their sole son and heir to the business.”

“Why do I get the oil-moneyed spoiled brat?” Soap protests, “Gaz is the one obsessed with fossil fuel!”

Price looks at Lady Theodora, silently begging her to take the lead.

“Focus on embodying the demeanour of an heir, Sergeant MacTavish,” she comforts Soap. “Acquiring in-depth knowledge of the business is not a top priority now.”

Finally, Price shifts his focus to you and Ghost. His voice softens, and a smile appears on his lips.

“As for the two of you,” he says, “your assignment requires a convincing portrayal of a couple.”

You and Ghost exchange a brief look before returning your focus to the files in your hands.

“Laswell will provide you with a forged marriage certificate and photos of your alleged relationship,” Price continues. “The documents will serve as tangible proof if the need to validate your connection arises.”

“Any chance to let us know who or what we’re after?” Gaz asks, and Price shakes his head.

“Baby steps, Sergeant; we’re waiting for Laswell to give us more intel,” he explains, “but as far as we know, we’re dealing with people who can buy their way out of some very sketchy shit.”

“Language, Captain.” Lady Theodora reminds him.

“Please accept my sincere apologies, Theodora,” he says and turns to Gaz. “I meant sketchy things, Sergeant.”

As they continue discussing the mission, your mind wanders on the latest information. Ghost’s partner? How? You look at the file and then back at Ghost. You see Lady Theodora walking behind Ghost’s chair and leaning close to his ear. She looks at you and whispers to him.

“I told you, Lieutenant,” she says, “I’ll mould you into a proper gentleman.”

Ghost turns to face you as well. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Lady Theodora,” he replies.

But Lady Theodora smiles and touches his shoulder, “Oh, you’ll see, Mr Riley—you’re my gift to unwrap, one course at a time.”

———————————————————————

Part 2 ->

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Part Ten: Patches

Chapter Directory: Here

Author's note: Inspired by the 1950s short story "The Man Who Came Early" by Poul Anderson. No major trigger warnings for this chapter. Also on ao3 here.

The leader, in so far as Alfred could make one out, didn’t respond. He just stared at Alfred, as if deciding what to do. He looked important, with the bearskin around his shoulders and a sword on his hip rather than a spear in hand. Sensing danger but not sure what kind, Alfred gave his usual smile, the one that could talk Lady Liberty herself out of her concrete knickers if he was so inclined, and opened his hands and held them the universal sign of ‘Don’t shoot me, dude, fuck.’ The men looked at each other, and Alfred saw the opening he needed when the man in the bearskin cloak tapped his upper rm.

The patch was only held to his sleeve by a few stitches kept purposefully messy lest anyone think he paid attention to such things. He tugged it free, and took a few steps forward. The men tightened their grip on their weapons and Alfred ignored them. There were two ways out of every encounter that might turn hostile. The hard way, with his strength or the easy way. He smiled again, twisting just to get past the spears that dropped into position, ready to shishkebab him right through.

There wasn’t a reason under the sun that precluded him walking the fuck out of here wholly intact and with new friends to boot. The man in the bearskin cloak said something Alfred didn’t catch to the men around him and the spears dipped away. He offered up the bright patch.

“Khajiit has wares, if you have coin.” Alfred laughed, hoping they’d get the reference. If they did, they just stared. He smoothly bypassed this setback, and pushed the patch at the bearskin cloak guy, who made no move to take it until Alfred had practically shoved it into his hands.

The man in the bearskin cloak looked at as if it might burn him for a moment but then turned it over and traced the blue edge, glancing up at Alfred. One fist against his heart, Alfred smiled. He was supposed to wear his flag on his arm, with the other insignias on his chest, but he had a stash of the original NASA meatball patches for a reason. It was maybe the finest symbol of himself he'd ever had, maybe even above the stars and stripes.

The gesture was returned, the bear skin cloak of the man. The man seemed to relax and said something Alfred didn’t catch but he thought he got the gist of something like "move out" or "let's go" and followed.

One of the helmeted men gestured with a spear and Alfred calmly obeyed, hands still partially raised, falling into line as they walked. They were well armed and he was not. And there was still plenty of reason to think this was all going to end very casually with a phone call and his brother clasping him to his chest with relief.

"Fuck you guys are thorough on the historical accuracy." Alfred muttered as one of the re-enactors came closer. The wool of the tunic looked strange, like it had actually been created on a loom like when he was little and the machines did not yet spew iron across the world.

"So are you guys filming a movie?" He asked. A burly, ruddy-faced man glanced at him under a thick beard and said something to the man opposite in what Alfred. He thought he heard Icelandic. But archaic or stilted. Damn. Sticklers for historical accuracy. Egill must love these guys. He must have missed some cool texts, having been up in the sky for so long on the ISS. Egill usually sent him an excited text when movies or TV was being filmed. He was pretty, and he knew it, as well as all those dramatic volcanic landscapes and hot springs.

Texts. He shoved his hand into his pocket and wondered why he hadn't thought too check before and then cursed. He wouldn’t have had his phone up above the atmosphere and in all likelihood it was locked in his office drawer somewhere in Colorado, waiting to be exchanged for an upgrade when he got back. He looked up for a moment, annoyed with himself and the universe and despite the game trail they were walking on, there was hardly a break in the trees.

As the thin game trail they walked on continued around a bend, he pressed a hand against the trunks, only half convinced they were real. He hardly had those anymore, much less Europe. Where the fuck had he landed? Some primeval Scandinavian forest? Northern Sweden? The far north of Canada? Maybe somewhere up out by the Great Lakes. He thought he got why they all lived in Minnesota for a moment. He liked that football team a lot actually.

He caught a glimpse of coastline between the trees, a dazzling green expanse glittering in the sun punctuated only by the lacy white caps of waves below a gently sloping bluff. And beneath, in the natural harbor... A ship. He gawped as his eyes traced the head of a dragon ornately carved even from all the way down the bluff. It reared up from the prow, sinuous like something alive.

A ship with red sails.

[joelswritingmistress]

Camp Crystal Lake - Chapter 13

Requested by @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz

Joel Miller x f!reader (romance/horror)

Setting: Camp Crystal Lake

The reader is taking on the position of a camp counselor at the infamous Camp Crystal Lake. While she begins to enjoy her summer, even crushing on the camp director Joel, a killer lurks in the woods unbeknownst to anyone.

Back at Camp

Teri had had enough of Scott’s subtle advances. When he was distracted by a television show and the company of Mark and Vicky, she slunk out the back door with a towel draped over her shoulders. When the screen door tapped the door frame behind her she sighed.

Freedom, Teri thought. Not that she minded her roommates, but having a moment of alone time was avidly welcomed. Teri was social until she wasn’t - and this was one of those times that she didn’t mind a few minutes to herself.

The lake was inviting and she found a spot around the corner from the main beach to strip down out of her clothing for an early night’s skinny dipping session. Again, something she preferred to do alone. It was therapeutic to the soul.

Teri dunked under the water and mentally counted to five slowly as the cool water encased her naked body.

One..two..three..four..five.

A deep breath escaped her lips as she resurfaced, pushing her hair away from her eyes as her legs peppered the unmoving water. Teri took a moment to look around at the distant lights around the lake - mostly from the silhouettes of houses saying their hellos. She wondered, for a moment, which lights belonged to the lakeside bar that her newfound friends were out at. The thought quickly left her brain when she took a breath and allowed her body to sink beneath the surface again.

Through the trees she could make out the lights from the cabin where they were all staying, and subconsciously she swam in the opposite direction, laying on her back and kicking until she found the far end of the dock. For a bit she rested her arms on top of the aging wood and let her chin lay against her knuckles. From one person’s point of view the atmosphere might have been creepy, but for Tori it was peaceful.

There's nothing to be scared of, she knew without having to convince herself. Teri closed her eyes and dunked herself beneath the water a few more times before finally returning her attention toward the shoreline where she could see the faintest movement near where her clothes had been.

For the first time, Teri’s guard went up and she began to tread water beside the dock to get a better look.

“Who’s there?” She shouted without a hint of alarm in her voice. It was all attitude.

A snicker hardened her expression and as she swam closer to shore she recognized Scott waving her shirt and shorts around like a child.

“Give me my clothes back, Scott!” She called out, a little relieved it was him and not Ralph or some other stranger. Still, the annoyance of his antics were now through the roof.

Scott giggled again and began to back away as Teri grew closer. “Come and get ‘em,” he teased.

She didn’t even care if he saw her partially naked, though Teri covered herself to the best of her ability, grabbed the towel she’d left in the sand and wrapped it around her before chasing him through a short path in the woods that led back toward the cabins.

 “Scott!’ She called his name out again and he continued to laugh wildly as he ran away from her. “This is so childish!” Teri was about to scream at him when all of a sudden she heard him scream.

For a second she had no idea what had happened until she got closer and realized Scott was now hanging upside down by one foot, waving his arms around wildly.

“Teri!” He was at her mercy now as he flailed around wildly, ankle caught in the loop of a thick rope that was tied to a branch so high in the tree that neither of them could see its origin. “Fuck! Damn Joel and all of his wilderness bullshit.”

“What the..” Teri shook her head and looked upward and then back to Scott who was now swinging back and forth. “What do I do?” She truly didn’t know.

“Get me down, that’s what!” He tried to glanced at her from the awkward position he was in.

Teri reached for his torso and stopped him from swinging, yanking her clothes from his hand. She then looked at him accusingly, “I oughta let you hang, you perv.”

“Come on, please,” Scott begged now, “Please, just give me a break here. Help me. Please.”

She cocked her head to the side and smirked at him. “You gunna cut the crap? I’m not dealing with this all summer.”

“Yes,” he said immediately, “Please, just go get something to cut me down.”

Teri narrowed her eyes but couldn’t help but chuckle at the instant karma that had taken Scott into its clutches, “Alright,” she agreed, “I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks.” He tried to lift his head as she began to wander away.

Teri took a few steps back and looked back down at Scott, “Don’t go anywhere!”

Scott shook his head, “Very funny.”

At the Bar

“Do you think they’re surviving back at camp?” Jeff asked, diving into his fourth beer of the evening.

“I’d say they’re doing more than that,” Sandra told him.

“What do you mean?” I asked, leaning forward with my arms on the bar.

“Mark and Vicky,” she went on, “Hello!” Sandra was so intuitive, I decided. She picked up on everyone’s body language without missing a beat. I had suspected some mild flirtation but she was already penning them as lovers without a second thought about it.

“You think they’re into each other?” I asked.

“Right now Vicky is in Mark’s lap,” Sandra said, adding with a little smirk on her word play, “Mark my words.”

When the bartender came back over upon seeing my empty glass I gave a nod, as did Joel.

“This might be my last one,” I whispered.

“Good idea,” he said quietly back.

“Are we still on for ten o'clock?”

“I’d say we’re on for ten.. Ten-forty-five, maybe midnight and again at six in the morning.”

I snickered and raised my eyebrows at him, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” he countered with a grin, resting a hand on my thigh beneath the bar’s overhang.

“Mmm..” I leaned in with the alcohol as an added confidence booster, “What if we did it in the lake first?” I whispered.

Joel let out a laugh and leaned an elbow on the bar, looking directly into my eyes from just a few inches away. “I’ve never done that.”

“Me either. Maybe you can be my first.”

The line made both of us laugh after a second’s pause and Sandra leaned forward to intrude on the conversation.

“Don’t get pregnant,” she whispered, to which Joel put up both hands and leaned back in his seat.

“I want to have sex in the lake, too,” Jeff shouted purposely loud, to which I spun around to face him.

“You heard that?”

“Everyone heard that.” He used his thumb to motion to Ted, who was actively engaged and enamored with the bartender, “Except Teddy.”

“Teddy’s busy,” Sandra said, swatting her boyfriend’s arm “Leave him be. And give him ten bucks.”

“He did win fair and square,” Jeff said, “Now about this love making in the lake..” He squeezed Sandra’s shoulder who leaned back into him with a little giggle.

“Maybe we should stick to the cabins,” Joel said, glancing at me.

“It’s a big lake,” Sandra reminded him with a grin, “If you go far enough, no one can hear you scream.”

CLICK HERE FOR NEXT CHAPTER

@gissellec1 @cattt777 @mellymbee @armybts20137 @bbiophiliaa @littleblackcatinwonderland @mermaidgirl30 @brittmb115 @beltzboys2015-blog @lwfics @pedropascal111 @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @alex-does-art-things @gothcsz @sarap-77

[ruvviks]

// wip day.

i'm working on a new project that is (for once) not connected to any of my bigger original universes, so i thought i'd share some of the writing i have for it! taglist down below, feel free to take this opportunity to share your own wips (in a separate post of course) if you have any!! the first part is a sort of introduction to the story, from the perspective of main character marshall! the second part is a snippet from a scene much further into the story, to kind of paint a picture (for both you and myself lol) of what the setting and the tone of the story is gonna be like. it's a bit different writing than what you're used to from me so please take a moment to read the warnings first!! warnings >> blood, cult, death, implied cannibalism, gore, religion, violence

God won't speak to me.

He spoke to my sister when we were eleven, her howls echoing through the backyard of our childhood home as the venom of a wasp spread quickly through her veins.

He spoke to my mother the day we buried her oldest son, the hem of her alcohol-stained dress torn where it had caught on the thorns of a blackberry bush she had blankly passed through.

He spoke to my father the day he put the barrel of a .44 in his mouth, reenacting what he had classified a sin for all the wrong reasons, his trembling finger on the trigger strong enough to rip apart the last tendon holding our family together yet not to finish the job.

I was eighteen, when I was found on the river bank near Overture, Louisiana, the sharp end of a jagged knife plunged deep within my side and my bloodied hands clutching the cross necklace of my brother, my breathing akin to the ice cold shallow water grazing at my ankles as I stared up at the star-spotted sky with glazed over eyes, blue chapped lips shaped in the final hum of a prayer.

A black abyss stared back, a strained vacuum without comfort, leaving me with a plea unheard and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

And God did not answer.

'Gotta dig… Just gotta dig. Gotta get 'em out of there… Gotta take 'em home…'

The physical distance between Marshall and the grave did not muffle the continuous mumbling, the shaky voice of the young priest clear as day like a whisper directly in his ear as the eerie silence looming over the church's cemetery left him with not much else to focus on. He knew he should turn around and leave, at that hour of the night— get back in his car and return to Posey in the motel, get some sleep while he still could— yet curiosity held him tight within its grasp, and each step he took pushed him closer into the wrong direction.

'Just the bones… Just the bones…'

The man was hunched over, back turned towards Marshall and partially obscured by the few last rows of gravestones stood between the two of them. His neck twitched— a sudden and unexpected movement at an angle Marshall did not hold for possible, yet it had happened entirely too fast for him to clearly see.

'Hey, is everything alright?' he called out; well against his better judgment, hairs on his forearms standing up straight as his feet carried him another few inches closer to the priest.

And the closer he got, the more he wished he had listened to himself.

If he had just turned away, he wouldn't have had to notice the unusual and unplaceable noises bubbling up from the priest's direction. He wouldn't have had to realize the priest was sat next to a coffin, yet to be lowered into an undug grave. (A curious practice, but Marshall was not one to judge— Overture'd had to endure a rather tiresome series of curiosities as of late, and an unburied corpse in the middle of bumfuck Louisiana in the midst of a yet to be explained power cut would be the least of its problems.)

'Just the bones…. Gotta dig… Gotta bring 'em home.'

'Do you need help?' Marshall persistently asked, his voice muffled by the thrumming of his own heart in his eardrums while his eyes trailed over the coffin— splintered and shattered at the lid, the glimmer of the distant church lights barely enough to reveal the outline of an axe resting on the dirt at the priest's ankles.

'Have to do it, there's no other way. Gotta dig, gotta dig, gotta dig—'

'Hey!'

Marshall should have never stayed in town.

He realized that now, as the priest's obsessive muttering came to a sudden stop forcing Marshall to hold still too— yet he had already approached too closely, and realized that no dirt had been dug in at all, and realized that the priest's hands were instead stuck inside the coffin repeatedly plunging deeper and deeper into the rotting remains of the corpse inside, once white vestment covered in blood and gore and he stared up at Marshall with a faint glow in two milky white eyes and with a wide grin exposing bloodied and shattered teeth, much akin to a predator looking at its next prey.

'Just the bones,' he repeated, the nodding of his head nearly belittling— as if to convince Marshall this was how it was supposed to be, as if to convince him the Word of God was not to be neglected and his fate as a sinner was a gift to the Divine Light and as if to convince him as long as he would not struggle it would all be over soon.

'Gotta dig.'

Marshall could not move, lamb to the slaughter as the priest rose to his feet with the axe in his hand.

'Just the bones! Gotta take 'em home.'

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @gurathins;

@mojaves, @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption;

@ncytiri, @calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm;

@strafethesesinners, @fashionablyfyrdraaca, @aemondtargeryen, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian;

@estevnys, @elgaravel

[astorythatwritesitself]

There Will Be Time

Fandom: Mass Effect

Rating: Gen

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Pairing: Thane Krios/Shepard

Additional tags: Prompt Fill, Memory Loss, Post-Reaper War.

Excerpt:

It’s been six months, since the war’s end. One, since the prognosis. ‘A matter of weeks,’ the doctor had said. 'Two or three months, if you’re very lucky.’ Adrian had taken it fairly well, all things considered. Vanished for a few hours, along the beach trails near their home, but there had been no tears when she returned. Hardly even a tremor in her voice, when she’d said: 'we always knew we were on borrowed time.’ Thane is simply grateful for each day that passes without incident.

Yeah, the AO3 version turned into a whole other thing lol. Original answer/draft is still up for posterity though, just no longer in the ship tag lol.

(Brief excerpt of The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Elliot)

'She could be wrong, siha-’ Thane starts. Starts, but the words catch in his throat as Adrian presses closer, arms tightening around his waist. Her lips brush his shoulder - or so he chooses to believe. He can’t bring himself to look, to see if she is crying.

‘You can rebuild a lot of things, but a brain’s pretty high up there in ‘experimental’,’ she replies, only the faintest of tremors in her voice. ‘I'd… always wondered. If it wouldn’t burn out fast, or break down - and that’s on its own, being around that much Reaper crap? If they were trying to indoctrinate me or anything…’

That’s as far as the conversation goes. The next day - week, ultimately - will be for shoring up what she’d prepared during her arrest, handling any other affairs. What remained of the night was simply to be enjoyed, to commit to memory all they could, before the chance passed by.

----

It's little things, at first. 

A misplaced item. More notes around the house - reminders of appointments, when to feed the fish, where things were. Tasks left undone. Dropping things, because her hands won't cooperate. Things that are easy enough to overlook - even laugh about, if it's a good day, things that could happen to anyone and mean nothing. He helps her clean up, she releases a statement that she is tired and done, and would like to enjoy some time with her husband, anyone looking for information can ask any of the other survivors of the war. 

Which is true enough.

That she's unable to completely recall the orders of events, or what even happened, isn't information the wider media needs.

----

There is still time, Thane tells himself, when he awakens to find Shepard still asleep. Some mornings he does get up - catch up on messages, let the others know how things stand. Sometimes he meditates, often he walks.

Sometimes, he writes, when it's too much to bear.

More often than not, though... he lingers. There is time, and he knows better, now, than to risk letting it slip away. Knows to enjoy the warm weight of her arm around his shoulders now, the soft, even sounds of her breath, and how lovely it is (all else aside), that she is able to sleep peacefully at last, old nightmares either forgotten or distant enough to no longer matter.  Things that will, yes, be only memory - but how often had he regretted every moment denied, with Irikah and Kolyat? Moments lost before he even knew they were there? 

Not again. 

---------

Four months along, and there are more notes, fewer models, more muddying of when something did or should happen. Longer pauses in conversation, where she struggles to find her words.

He asks (only partially from the doctor's suggestion) if she could share a poem with him - he loves hearing her recite, no two ever quite alike. Remembers from their time aboard the Normandy, the hazy warmth in her voice as the words flowed, swift and clear, her love for them sweeping him along even when they didn't translate so well.

The words do come. Slow and faltering and in a hollow, clipped tone - 

“And would it have been worth it, after all,

Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,

After the cups-

“No-" She shakes her head, biting her lip and drumming her fingers on her thigh.  "Wait, no that... that goes the other way around, doesn't it.”

Her voice trembles - breaks, just the slightest bit, on those last words.

"It's a long one, siha," Thane says. "You've stumbled on this one before, it's-" 

It's nothing to worry about, he wants to say, but can't. Adrian rests her head on his shoulder, eyes closed as if they could stop the tears trailing down her face. She's stumbled before, yes... but would that provoke such a reaction?

So, instead - he draws her close. Closes his eyes, focusing first on keeping his own voice steady as he picks up where she left off, then as she joins in, as he guides her through the rest. Better that, than leaving it silent and incomplete; and the shorter ones come to her quick as they ever have. 

----

He’s steeled himself as best as he can, to spend no time mourning now. Not while she's here, when there’s still more good days than bad. More days than they’d dreamt of having when they’d first met, more days than seemed possible, during the war.

A day like this, where Shepard is already awake, taking over the kitchen table with her latest ship model, and Thane almost believes that their future stretches out far and away, beyond anyone's predictions. Her hands are steady, and he can almost forgive the faint, burnt odor lingering in the air, because it means she’s remembered to eat on her own. He sits beside her, and they talk for a while - about Vega’s upcoming visit, the inaccuracies of the Normandy model strewn before her, Kolyat’s last message; and all the while, her words come without trouble, with no grasping or fumbling to recall this detail or that.

----

“We don’t have anything else going on today, right? I was thinking, maybe we could go to the beach,” Shepard says after a while, as she starts cleaning up her workspace. “It’s beautiful out there, today.”

Thane hums a brief agreement from where he stands, just behind where she sits, clearing up the last of the dishes of his meal. “That would be lovely, siha,” he replies. Sets the plate aside and turns, resting a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. Is about to say something, when she looks up at him, a faint and fretful half-smile on her lips.

“I think my translat-”

Her expression falters - confusion and then a slow, horrified comprehension.

( ’I think my translator just glitched. What did you call me?’ )

She grips his hand as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. He leans down, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, all the while reminding himself, there will be time to mourn later, there is time together now.

But gods, it's growing short.

[paganwitchisis]

Always There for You

Rated E (Explicit)

Word Count – 6,991

Pairing – Astarion/ AFAB Female Tav

Warnings – very mild self mutilation, blood, smut, PiV sex, oral sex, breeding kink, maybe more I cannot recall at the moment.

Summary: Set after the main story and features female Tav and Astarion. Tav and Astarion decide to do missions in Baldur’s Gate together but after two months of back to back missions Tav finds herself wanting. Since the missions don’t allow the couple much time to dote on each other, Tav begins to miss Astarion and yearns for him. Tav takes things into her own hands in regards to her desire so she would not pressure Astarion but the trouble is, she cannot find completion. This goes on for weeks until Astarion finds out the hard way but not as you would think. As you can guess, smut is involved and it ends up as a sweet, sweet ending.

AO3 link is here

Chapter one is here

Chapter two - coming soon

Chapter three - Coming after two

RATED 18 PLUS

Story:

Things went as expected after defeating the Netherbrain two months ago. All the companions had said their goodbyes and went their separate ways…well, except Astarion, of course, who, unfortunately because of choosing to not slay the seven thousand souls, he was condemned to the shadows. He was okay with it, though. He kept telling Tav that he had gotten his true freedom and that he would sacrifice anything to be with her. The city, thankful for the heroes and wanting to entice Tav and Astarion not to adventure away, offered them many lucrative missions and a house, free and clear in the upper city, no less. Astarion made jokes about it but Tav decided she would stick around…for now, at least. Originally they sought clues to help Astarion return to the sun but the solution ended up being closer to them then they thought. On a mission not too long in their tenure, they found themselves against a revived vampire master who wanted to destroy the city. With some quick thinking and a lot of luck, Astarion was able to work in tandem with his lover to help bring down the creature. The being would have been tricky and a difficult enemy if not for the fact it hadn’t been around in such a long time. It was nothing Astarion’s array of poisons couldn’t slow down, and the pair worked splendidly together. They never needed to speak when in a fight on most occasions, as if the tadpole was never removed. The vampire had on him something unbelievable that the couple didn’t think was that easy to find. All this time and it was right under their noses? They didn’t have to painstakingly search or reproduce an amulet or jewelry piece? There, was the Sunwalker’s ring…a legend in its own right. Testing it, Astarion put his hand out in the warmth of the sun and was ecstatic when it worked. Tav thought Astarion would have taken a break, celebrate or spend time with her at the very least but instead they headed out and began doing more missions for Baldur’s Gate…properly this time, and in the day. On another note, Jaheira wasn’t far away so they still had a friend nearby.

Although they had a house in the upper city, Astarion and Tav found themselves most of the time in their old stomping grounds in the lower parts of Baldur’s Gate. Sometimes it was the sewers, and once they even had to venture into Bhaal’s temple once more to clear out some necromancers who were starting up in the worst area they could have chosen. By the time the couple made it down to the temple, the necromancers were dead and their bodies were flayed, displayed like some piece of art you would hang on your wall. This reminded them that the murder god’s agents were still operating in the city, of course, and the couple quickly retreated. It didn’t stop Astarion from claiming the spoils, of course, much to Tav’s partial amusement and frustration.

They received so many missions that provided so much coin that Tav suspected they may even rival Cazador’s wealth soon, though she kept her suspicions to herself. With all the missions, however, there was little time for themselves, let alone each other. They would return home each day and toss off their pack and armor, prepare for the next day and reload anything in their pack they need, sharpen whatever needed it, or get more arrows, for example. They would take a quick bath only to clean themselves as there was no time to soak. They were too tired to do more than that and would just snuggle up to each other in bed before the next day came.

After an additional few weeks of the same song and dance, Tav began to feel the neglect, and she longed and missed the man she slept next to every night. She loved him. She cared for him, and it wasn’t long ago they were doing impossible things in the city, or watching the stars at night in each other’s arms, then making love to each other when the mood took them…or, hells, even sensual baths together where she would give him wacky hair-dos and laugh while he would tickle her for revenge before they would make out and confess their love for each other. Now, they barely spoke to each other unless it was for tactical reasons about the missions and to ensure the other wasn’t hurt when a stray arrow was let loose, or a sword almost would cleave her in two like the last mission. What happened to the times they spoke at length about their future? Or the times they talked about their favorite items and birth dates so it was easier to figure out how to surprise each other and make them feel special? Gods, she missed that man. As Tav watched him trance next to her, she also felt another overwhelming need that had been prevalent as well that Astarion didn’t know. Desire. Tav knew she had a fairly high sex drive but she would never put pressure on the man, so she would usually take care of herself in private. It was more difficult during the time when they were in the Shadow-Cursed Lands when she would try to sneak away, but she never got caught by Astarion as they shared a tent and later a bed together. Currently, even though it isn’t as difficult to get away, because of the situation, she would just have to bide her time to when he was hunting. Thankfully, he wasn’t drinking from her that often, although she wasn’t sure why and was partly scared of the answer to that question. It wasn’t like he was gone an inordinately long amount of time for her to be concerned about, but considering that he hasn’t touched her in a couple weeks, a few chaste kisses at best…it did begin to make Tav a little insecure. Of course, she would also not tell him this and her rational mind would remind her that he wasn’t gone long, barely enough time to hunt before he was back to her and collapsed in their bed together. Tav was a wreck at times, but she learned from the best and hid it well, as she usually hid it as exhaustion, which the pair had on some days, if not most as they never took a day off. Tav wasn’t sure why Astarion was so determined to take as many missions as possible but he kept pressing on.

Soon, maybe two days after desire crept back with force, there was a chance for Tav to find a reprieve. For Tav, sex wasn’t just carnal lust. It was stress relief, it was relaxing to help fall asleep before bed lazily, it was pure love and the expression and emotion of it…It was so much more than bodies and pleasure. Right now, she needed everything of course, including the pleasure because her body felt like it had been through hell. Not a single day off in two months, and the missions weren't exactly easy either. Tav waited for a while until Astarion had gone to hunt before she widened her legs, pulled her sleeve up and slipped her hand between them and under the band of her underwear. Thankfully she was only wearing a long shirt and underwear that night so she didn’t have to worry about getting undressed and redressed. She worked herself like she usually did as she went directly for the nerve clusters, not even bothering for slow and steady. She needed release. It felt good….Very good, but nothing was happening. There was no build up or pressure, and although she agreed that it would be better by her lovers hand, that was no reason that her own couldn’t fulfill her need. It had always worked before! Tav steadied her breath and closed her eyes, turning her head to breathe in her lover’s pillow and imagining a time when they made love without abandon and all the naughty things they got up to. Once again, nothing happened. After about an hour and no progress, Tav rescinded her hand and frustratingly closed her legs. Tav was angry, pulled the covers back up and around her, turned away from the door, unsurprised as a few tears spilled and fell asleep.

This became a pattern for unfortunately the next three weeks, but Tav, being the ever stubborn one, refused to back down or give herself a break. She was angry and upset. She was frustrated and wanting. She needed that man in so many ways, but honestly the need wasn’t even on the physical level. She needed his love. She needed the emotion and she needed his touch. To Tav, when they made love instead of rutting around like they used to in the dirt like they did in the clearing, it was showing love and giving themselves to each other, so why couldn’t she get that now? Why was it so scarce now that the threat to the city is gone and the threat to their lives was over? Tav was afraid if Astarion didn't care for her anymore, in some regard, in some irrational part of her brain. It wasn’t just sex, of course, it was everything. The missions always took precedence, and damn the consequences. Tav also wondered that for a man with such heightened senses, why couldn’t he tell she wanted him, or the distress? Did he not care? Tav merely closed her eyes after another painfully failed attempt and went to sleep.

Astarion came back from hunting later that night, exhausted as he took off his gear and pack, he toed off his boots and he took off most of his clothes. He was too tired to throw on any night wear but smirked to himself. His lover has seen him in less than underwear before, so it shouldn’t matter. He laid down to trance for the night and snuggle up to the warm body he loved so much when a very familiar metallic smell hit him. It wasn’t strong but it wasn’t weak either. Astarion, whose eyes were originally closed to prepare for bed, shot open. It was Tav’s blood. Was she injured? Astarion knew they had a hard fight today but she said she wasn’t hit. Was she lying? Astarion gently rolled her over as she slept and he smelled for the source of the blood. Thankfully the day’s event kept Tav asleep while Astarion checked to see where the blood was coming from. When the origin was between her legs, he was confused. It wasn’t time for her cycle, and on top of that, it was too little for it to be that kind of blood but still too much to be ignored. Astarion gently and carefully maneuvered her underwear off her legs and put them aside. As soon as the underwear was removed, the smell intensified, which concerned Astarion. He then coaxed her legs apart so he could see better between them what was wrong and why he was smelling such a strong odor of blood. What he saw horrified him. Astarion repositioned himself between her legs to figure out what had happened. He couldn’t figure it out. She was so inflamed and irritated that she was nearly swollen shut in her vaginal cavity. Her clit and the surrounding tissue looked about the same condition. There was some blood, of course, which is what got Astarion’s attention initially. What had happened? Quickly, Astarion got off the bed and grabbed a vial or two of healing potions. What he saw looked incredibly painful and he had no idea how she was sleeping. Carefully, Astarion got back on the bed between her legs and leaned forward. He put his hand on her cheek and tried to coax her slowly from sleep.

“Tav? Tav!” Astarion called out as he tenderly tapped her cheek to get her to awaken. Eventually she slowly started to come to and saw a distraught and terrified Astarion between her open legs. The cool breeze told her that her underwear was not there. While excessively blinking to gather her thoughts, she knew she was found out. The junction throbbed and burned as a reminder of her shame and failed attempts. She didn’t know what to do except tell the truth. Maybe now was the time to finally have a discussion.

“Tav?”

“Astarion? Are you okay?” Tav asked, although she already knew the answer.

“Am I...am I okay?” Astarion shook his head “No, I am not okay, because I came back from my hunt and smell your blood. I thought you were injured, so I naturally follow my nose to find this. This didn’t happen overnight, Tav. You had to have known. What happened?” Astarion demanded while his anger began to seep into the conversation.

Tav went to move a moment to sit up and winced. Astarion snarled before speaking in reaction to this.

“Take this first. You need to be healed first before we talk. This is…This is too much…Way too much, Tav.” Astarion watched as Tav drank the potion and her folds, although they got better, were not healed and he growled in anger and frustration before pushing a second in her hands. It took two potions before she was healed completely.

“It took two potions! Two, before you were healed! That is how bad you were! What in the nine Hells happened?”

“I’ll pay back the…” Tav noticed Astarion wasn’t calling her his pet names but her real name. He must be either very worried or very angry…

“It isn’t about the damn potions! It’s about the woman I love being so hurt that it takes two fucking potions to heal you. Now what’s this about, and what happened? Did someone hurt you, or…”

“No! I did it…”

“What? Why? How?” Astarion asked as he moved up over her as they spoke. It was a very intimate position, one they hadn’t been in in a very long time. Tav didn’t realize how much she missed it.

“I…promise you it isn’t intentional.” She sighed. “I am not sure where to start honestly.”

“How about the truth and from the start,” Astarion suggested as he gazed at her

“I’ve had a secret. One I never meant to keep from you but ended up that way.” Astarion regarded her quizzically while she further explained. “I have a high sex drive, but I never wanted you to feel pressured or feel like you must perform. Usually I took care of myself when desire struck and we were not intimate or likely to be doing so. It wasn’t a big deal…till after we saved the city. We took on mission after mission and I missed you. I missed us. I’ve been so damn exhausted every day since we never take a day off, or time for ourselves. I tried three weeks ago to take care of myself, but I couldn’t get off while you hunted, and I tried for so long. Since then I kept trying every chance I could. You saw the result.”

“Didn’t the pain make you want to stop?”

“It should have but…I guess I was emotionally hurting. I was worried...and it’s stupid…we...we’ve barely been kissing even so I worried you were growing tired of me.”

Astarion took in a shaky breath, his head hanging low and out of sight from Tav who was worried if she hit the truth. Tav went to try to bring her hands up to the pale elf when he spoke.

“Is there anything else you’re honestly feeling before I address this?”

Tav nervously laughed. “I…please understand this is an irrational feeling but I was worried that…you found some else…and that’s why you haven't been drinking my blood recently.”

Astarion exhaled and got off of Tav, which alarmed the woman until she saw what he was doing. He went to his pack and pulled something out that she could not see. He returned and crawled back on top of her, promptly taking her lips in a searing kiss which surprised Tav. He snaked his tongue inside to deepen the kiss and tasted her as much as he could. Astarion moved his right hand up to her clothed breast and rubbed her nipple through the fabric, earning a deep moan from the woman he cared for before pulling back.

“I love you and there is no one else,” Astarion said to Tav while looking her in the eye. “And I will never grow tired of you my love! Never!” Astarion leaned in and claimed her lips again with intensity, earning moans from both of them while they grinded against each other, Astarion’s hand reaching down to grab her backside and pull her flush against him. With almost a thrust of his hard on buried beneath his underwear into her core, Astarion pulled back from the deep kiss as Tav moaned his name.

Astarion panted while he spoke. “I should finish explaining before giving in. Gods you’re beautiful though. You feel so good. So perfect.” Astarion sat up on his heels and brought his hand to his length that stood at attention, the head of his cock peaking out above the band of his blue underwear.

“You’re right, we have been doing a lot of missions…too many actually. I guess I’ve been too focused on the goal, and somewhere along the line I lost sight of how much hardship it was putting on you…on us.” Astarion swallowed thickly while he looked dejected. Tav moved to comfort him but he put a hand up to stop her. “I’m not finished. . .I should have smelled your need, heard your heart quicken and blood race, but I didn’t. Truth is I’ve been hiding a few secrets myself. My senses are dulled. Too dull if this incident is any example. I cannot hunt properly because my senses are dull and my senses are dull because I have a lack of blood. My only sense I have that works fine, is the one that found out your little secret. I haven't asked for your blood to fix the issue because I knew you’ve been tired. It’s pretty obvious my, sweet.” Tav was yet again about to react, to talk and move but once again, Astarion held up his hand. “There is more…a few things more if you’ll continue to hear me out.”

Astarion got up and walked over to his desk, and pulled out an envelope that was addressed to him. One that Tav was curious about at one time but never thought much about it. She figured if it was important that he would tell her, even though it had official seals and script. Astarion handed her the envelope as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Open it. Read it.” Astarion encouraged.

Tav did as encouraged and gasped when she recognized what it was. Astarion was granted ownership over Cazador’s possessions.

“Seems Wyll, even in Avernus, pulled some strings with his dad. I liquidated everything, but I fear that fairly soon the house may suffer a fire….oh, woe is me,” Astarion said with a chuckle and a smile. “All his worldly possessions netted a rather large sum. I’m sure you’ll join me for Baldur’s Gate’s largest bon fire, of course, when his house of terror goes up in smoke.” Astarion’s smiled widened.

“Of course, but why didn’t you mention the letter then? If you got so much gold, why are we doing all these missions?” Tav was confused.

Astarion smiled a genuine smile that reached his eyes and stood up. He hook his fingers around Tav’s knees and turned her so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Then he dropped to one knee, kissing her knees and calming himself while confusing her before he spoke.

“After 200 years of misery at the hands of being bound to a master, I thought I would never want to be bound again. Not for any reason. Yet I fell in love with you. I found it wasn’t binding. It wasn’t a hardship and it wasn’t oppressive. It was freedom. We’ve spoken at length on how much you’ve freed me. How much you mean to me, which as a reminder you mean everything to me my dear. I love you more than words can express and more than water is on this planet. I love you more than I can ever convey, and so I want to bind myself to you in any way that I can. It would make me the happiest vampire in all the planes if you would allow me the honor of being your husband,” Astarion shakily said, and began to cry as he asked. A rare moment of vulnerability. He pulled out from…somewhere…as Tav wasn’t watching and the man was a master of sleight of hand, a box, and opened it to reveal a ring that took Tav’s breath away. The ring held a black gemstone with red gems in an intricate pattern surrounding it, and it hummed with magic. It was gorgeous.

Tav pulled the man up and kissed him before realizing she never gave her answer. “Yes!” she exclaimed between kissing him senseless. “Yes!”

She tried to pull him onto the bed but he stopped her. He pulled back to put the ring on her finger and explain. “The rings,” He held up his, which although his was a promise ring compared to her engagement ring, they both held magic “have tracking magic to them. While you can always track me my love, I can only track you when you want it. You have to let me by going in a clockwise circle around the band three times. For your privacy of course.”

“Why not your privacy? And was the ring that expensive you needed Cazador’s wealth and the missions?” Tav began to palm his cock through his undergarments, an action he did not stop but rolled his hips with, as he enjoyed the friction and pleasure it created between his legs.

Astarion laughed. “Oh no. But for a life together, that costs money. Especially if we want a decade or two buffer years without worrying what we’re going to do about work, or if we are or are not settling down. And my privacy? I’d feel better knowing my fiance, or…Gods…eventually I can call you wife, was able to know where I am in case a hunt goes bad. I don’t tell you but not all my hunts are safe or ok. If something ever goes wrong, you can use this to find me.” Astarion confessed as he stood against the edge of the bed, his cock hard and rigid as Tav tried to pull his underwear down and take him in her mouth. Before she could, Astarion leaned down and captured her lips. “Before we do that, I have a request.”

“Anything.”

“Blood. I’ve been running on almost nothing since the brain…”

Tav immediately moved back and laid down after taking her shirt off to reveal her bare breasts, which got the vampire’s attention. She moved her hair aside and moved her head to invite him in. Her legs were parted and he keeled between them, and his hands went straight to her breasts. He kneaded them, playing with the nipples and grinding his covered hard cock against his now soon to be bare wife. Astarion kissed the skin lovingly down her neck until he felt the throbbing vein underneath her skin. He kissed it and licked it before quickly puncturing the skin, trying to reduce the pain and drinking the red life essence. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him as his left hand went to free his cock so Tav could have skin to skin contact. He was so hard it hurt. Her blood always did this. No matter how spent he was, he would always find himself up and running below the belt when he drank her divine and succulent blood. Her blood sang and called to him, and gods did he want to sheath himself inside her and spend himself. He wouldn’t though. He owed her too much. He went for friction instead, and rubbed his cock against her clit as she rubbed herself against him. She moaned as well. It was obvious they both missed each other’s touch, and not just sexually. Astarion teased her a bit by letting the head of his cock enter her a little before pulling back. Soon, Tav gave him a sign to stop, and he quickly retracted himself and licked the wounds of the excess blood, sealing them.

“Gods, I want to make love to you, but I need to hunt or else…”

“I know…I know. Go hunt!” Tav encouraged, even if she missed the weight of him and the feeling of his engorged mast between her folds.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Astarion wondered out loud when Tav kissed him. “You deserve the world,” she said to him.

Astarion got dressed and put on his gear, and pulled out a few potions and tossed them to her.

“What’s this…”

“You were out of potions, right darling?”

“How did you know?” Tav asked.

“I was wondering why you never healed yourself and chanced me catching you,” Astarion replied and kissed her again. “At least it ended up ok in the end. Make sure you're awake when I come back or you're going to find my head between your legs licking you awake,” He said with a smirk.

“Don’t threaten a girl with a good time,” Tav smirked, and kissed him chastely before Astarion left to hunt. He didn’t want to wait a moment and chance losing his nerve and staying to make love to the beautiful naked woman he loved most in Fae’run.

Sometime later Tav had fallen asleep naked in their bed while holding on to his pillow. When Astarion returned, he quietly got undressed completely and cleaned off any stray blood he may have missed before he stood before his soon to be wife. “Well…I made a promise,” Astarion whispered with a smirk. He went to his pack and grabbed a couple health potions and some water skins and put them on the night stand. Then he silently climbed on the bed and moved his fiance on her back, pulling the blanket back little by little until she was revealed. “Gods you're beautiful. How’d I end up so lucky to get a pretty thing like you darling…” Astarion said to himself before he spread her legs and got between them. Astarion smirked before he hooked an arm lightly but firmly on her hips to hold her down as he laid down, and he brought the flat of his tongue through her slit gently and twisted it around her clit. He lightly and sensually lapped at the bud as it became engorged under his care, while the woman clutched the pillow more, moaning in her sleep. Astarion took it one step further and sucked on her pearl, before he moved his mouth south to her vaginal opening. He pushed himself in and lapped inside, burying himself inside her folds and drinking her in. Astarion couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips or the blood that began inflating his cock. Astarion was rutting against the bed, his thumb running a circular motion on her fun button as Tav finally came to.

“Wha…Astarion?” Tav questioned as another moan escaped her, louder this time. She tried to move her hips and chase release, but Astarion wouldn’t let her.

“I warned you, dear.” Astarion pulled back to say as he used two fingers of his right arm, the free arm, to insert inside her and hook themselves. This hit a sweet spot making Tav sing pretty for the vampire who smiled at what he did.

“This feels so good. I’m…I’m close. I’m sorry, I’ve just been needing and…” Tav began to apologize before Astarion kissed her.

“Don’t. I neglected you. Let go, and come.” Astarion huskily said before he dove down and sucked and licked with everything he had on her clit, adding another finger and pumping her efficiently to give her an explosive climax. Tav screamed Astarion’s name and arched her back, her hand in his white locks, the other in the bed sheets below. Astarion kept going for a bit until he began to slow down, not wanting to make her overstimulated.

Astarion pulled away and pulled his fingers slowly out of her as she mewled in disappointment.

Astarion licked his fingers clean in a sultry display before he spoke with a smile. “Delectable.”

Tav moved forward to reciprocate before Astarion stopped her. “I have something I need to quickly mention before we go on. A couple things my love that I forgot to mention earlier.” Astarion began slowly stroking himself. “After what you did, I just want you to know that I am not too happy with what you chose to do. I don’t want you making decisions for me. I’d rather you be open with me. We’re in this together after all, my love. Now I understand why you don’t want to pressure me. You think there is an issue because of your drive.” At this, Astarion’s serious face changed. He smiled. “You have nothing to worry about, my sweet.”

“Huh? I’m…confused.” Tav admitted.

“Cazador fell onto our blades… three and a half, four months ago? Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out who I am, and little by little, thanks to your boundless patience and love, I’ve been finding bits and pieces out. Now, I still have a long way to go. I don’t know what I lost before, and I don’t know fully who I am now, but I know a few things. I know I love you. I know I’m going to figure out a way to make you immortal,“ Astarion said this with a smirk and a wink “And I know that since he died, my hunger for you has only grown and I cannot contain it. I cannot keep my cock out of my hand every night as I take care of myself while I look at you. Sometimes I may get a treat as one of your breasts fall out of your shirt, but otherwise? I need you I fear as much as your drive makes you need me, and if memory recalls,” Astarion began to crawl up to Tav’s face and kiss her. “We used to be pretty involved in our room in the Elfsong after we killed the bastard. Our friends hated us for a bit,” Astarion chuckled. “But I think I’ve neglected you long enough, my sweet. Plus, we have something to celebrate.” Astarion smiled as his hand came up to cup her face and he used his thumb to rub her cheek bone.

Tav quickly reached forward to grab his cock but Astarion pushed her shoulders down to lay on her back before she could. “I fear if you touch me, darling, I may come prematurely.” Astarion confided in her, and kissed her again. “We also have one last issue.”

Tav cocked her head confused and waited for Astarion to answer. “The rings were enchanted by Gale who was so kind as to tell me of something he was researching lately.” Astarion began kissing her collarbone and her shoulder, making his way to her neck. Tav was confused why Gale was being brought up when they were about to make love. “He brought up Dhampirs. They’re half human and half vampire hybrids. All the pluses and very few drawbacks. They can walk in the sun, their hunger is significantly less and they can do what I can do.” Astarion kissed her jaw and her cheeks and now her lips, before resting his forehead on hers. “Apparently a fertile woman and a well fed male vampire…even a spawn, as long as whichever vampire has quality blood inside them, there is a chance of conceiving. The chances are still very rare, but this is the best chance for a male vampire to have a child.”

“So wait…” Tav pulled back and away from Astarion so she could understand. “You’re saying…we can have a baby? If we meet those conditions?”

Astarion chuckled and sat back, his cock now soft due to them speaking for so long and the lack of touch and stimulation. Of course it wouldn’t take much to get him up and running when the time came. “Darling. We have met those conditions. Based on your blood, you’re fertile and at your peak. The question is, do you want me to come outside of you tonight or…”

“We never spoke about children. I mean…I thought you would hate having children?”

Astarion smiled. “Thankfully, I had some time to think about this, because Gale told me about this a few weeks ago. At first I was opposed. I thought I would be a terrible father and I didn’t have the patience. I hated the idea, but as time went on, I kept imagining having a family with you. What the child would look like and if they would look more like you or myself. What I could teach them and suddenly I started to long for a family. Cazador stole everything from me, including a family. Although I got one with you…maybe little versions of our chaotic selves wouldn’t be a bad thing? but only if you feel the same way of course, dear.”

Tav opened her mouth to speak but closed it and smiled. She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You wouldn’t be wrong about teaching them chaos.” Tav laughed.

“Damn right. If you chose for it. Our son or daughter, hells, maybe both, would be a scoundrel with light feet and fast hands, but if anyone crossed them…” Astarion said, the threat left unsaid.

Tav chuckled. “I’ll admit, I always liked the idea of being a mother, but when we entered into a long term relationship, I figured that was a moot point, but the trade off was worth motherhood since it meant I got to be with you. I’m glad you want this.” Tav kissed him again as Astarion deepened the kiss, trying to progress the act until Tav pulled away. “I wanted to say that I am glad you want this, because I want it too. Now love, you just have to get me pregnant.”

Astarion smiled showing all his teeth, including his fangs as he spoke, Tav was growing wet at the thought. “ I’m dying to get you pregnant to be honest. I want to fill you so bad and make your stomach swell with my seed. I want the world to know what we’ve been up to and know that you’re mine.”

Tav couldn’t help her arousal. She was so wet at the thought and she wasn’t even sure why.

“It may take a few tries.”

“Darling, you’re not going to be able to walk…” Astarion kissed Tav deeply while she brought her hand down to his surprisingly already mostly hard cock.

“No.”

“Huh?” Tav muttered confused.

“I’ll spill too fast, and each drop is reserved for your uterus, darling.” Astarion smiled as he took her lips again and this time the two began kissing intensely as they pressed and ground their hips against each other, neither getting anywhere except shallow friction until Astarion pulled back and fished in the drawer for something.

“Astarion, are you..?”

“If I’m filling you with our child tonight, my love, I need your hands where I can see them.” Astarion said as he tied her hands together to the headboard of the bed.

“This was for other kinds of play, and you know it.” Tav admonished playfully. She wanted him just as bad and was enjoying every step of the way.

“You’re going to have so much of my come in you that you’ll be leaking me for weeks. We’re going to have this child. I know it because my love for you makes the impossible possible. You’ve done it with me, with our friends, and with the city. What’s biology got on you?” Astarion said as he lined his cock up and took Tav’s breast into his mouth. Tav moaned and gasped loudly when he sheathed himself in her to the hilt in one thrust.

“Gods Astarion, you’re so thick. I almost forgot. It’s been too long…” Tav moaned as Astarion stilled, allowing her to adjust to his size. She was right, it had been too long, and he wouldn’t say it out loud but he had difficulty as well. If he didn’t pace himself, he would spill too quickly.

“Gods, you’re so tight and wet….so warm. You’re right, it’s been too long. Let’s never do that again. After tonight, you’re going to remember my cock my sweet. Soon you’ll be my wife, and if we do this right, the mother to my child. Gods I’m so fucking lucky…” Astarion said as he went in to kiss Tav, who replied, “You deserve everything Astarion,” before he took her lips and he began to roll his hips slowly. Astarion moved his hand to the back of her head as he took her lips, and the other hand to her breast. Astarion pulled back as he moaned and began picking up the pace, but refused to go too fast. He wanted Tav to quake before he filled her. He wanted to give her the climax that she had been denied.

“You feel so good. Your cock feels like it belongs in me,” Tav muttered while she hooked her legs around Astarion’s hips to pull him closer and not let him go. She crossed them and held tight.

“That’s because it does belong in you. It doesn’t belong anywhere else.” Astarion smiled and, although both were breathing heavily, they kissed again once more, but this time tenderly. “I love you so much. You are my world. My sun. My goddess.”

“I love you too Astarion. You mean more to me than life itself,” Tav said as she felt the pressure rising inside.

Astarion rolled his hips slightly differently to hit at a different angle. He was going to force her to come because he didn’t know how much longer he could last. He upped his speed and thrust harder and deeper inside while rolling his hips. He reached between them and began circling her clit, and huskily spoke to her, “Come for me my love, pull me in and come for me.” Astarion’s rhythm began to falter, and he was doing all he could not to finish first when Tav screamed his name, and the throbbing contracting muscles told him she was coming and he could let go. “Take all of me.” Astarion grunted with each thrust left, and with a few more shaky thrusts, he held her flush to his hips as he came harder than he came in a long time. Literal white stars partly appeared in his vision as he emptied himself inside her, and he felt the sticky substance fill the canal and threaten to leak from her private region. Astarion panted heavily as he gazed into the loving and smiling face of his fiance. Astarion did not disconnect, but instead grabbed the water skins on the side and handed one to Tav, who drank greedily from it before returning it. Astarion did the same.

“That felt great love,” Tav said. She went to move, but she realize that Astarion was staying hard and not softening up, nor was he disconnecting. Astarion smiled when he saw that she noticed something was off.

“Astarion, what’s going on?”

“Darling, our best shot of making a baby is tonight. Also, we’re celebrating our engagement, and I’m making up for all the time I neglected you. You’re staying right here until you’re thoroughly sated my love. No worries though, I thought ahead and have a healing potion for when we get sore, and water.”

Tav smiled and laughed. “Here I was worried my sex drive would scare you off. I love you my husband to be.”

Astarion kissed her sweetly and replied, “Darling, during our time with our wriggling friends in our brains, and I was ok with sex again…around the time Cazador was killed, I was matching you toe to toe, but I love you too, my soon-to-be wife.” Astarion joked with his sass as if it was a game or a sport so Tav would feel more at ease with herself and felt comfortable being who she was.

With that, the couple kissed and resumed pleasuring each other for some time. It was said the couple stopped taking contracts for a month later, and they always took two to three days off a week to allow time to rest, time to themselves and time to each other. The happy couple enjoyed their time of bliss….then a letter came.

[stewardofningishzida]

Stephen Strange Meta-Fic Sequel - Chapter 14: On Moving Day and Shapeshifting

Ahhh, magic. Gotta love its chaotic nature. Any time there’s something new, you can guarantee that there will be craziness involved.~ Introducing Blackie to our cast!

TRIGGER WARNING: Language, minor panic attack, minor injuries

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Chapter 14:  On Moving Day and Shapeshifting

*The three sorcerers return to Kamar-Taj.  Two of the three are quite battered and exhausted.  However, Stephen goes to check on the girls, worried about them since he knows how much energy they gave to him before the fight.  The unconscious Trix appears to be lying in an odd sort of slowly-growing nest of crystals, originating from her own body.  It glows ominously.  I’m half-projected out of my own inert body, my astral form unconscious while floating partially above my physical self.  Prettywitch is still unconscious as well, but there is a cloud of aura-based energy around her head, surrounding it in a sort of kaleidoscopic haze.  The Ancient One is still guarding the three of them.*

Stephen (worried):  What happened?  

Ancient One: Peace, Stephen. Your apprentices are just more powerful than you may have expected. Their latent magic is beginning to reveal themselves. *She reaches over and carefully pulls Steward back closer to her body when it starts drifting away again slowly*

Stephen:  …Is this common?  *He hasn’t trained apprentices before.  So, he doesn’t fully know yet.  He knows of his own tic, but hasn’t looked into it much.*

Ancient One: Every master of the mystic arts has a latent magic that tends to…depressurize the soul so to speak. Whether it manifests physically such as Trix’s or yours, or something more abstract like what the other girls seem to have, everyone has one. Right, Wong? *She raises an eyebrow at him*

*Wong clears his throat awkwardly.*

Wong:  …Right.  *He’s not about to say anything about what his does.*

*Stephen gives him a look.  Now he HAS to figure Wong’s involuntary casting out.  Wong looks at him exasperatedly, knowing that Stephen will never leave him alone about it.*

Ancient One (ignoring their silent conversation): Typically, the latent magic can vary in early stage apprentices between any number of things and mishaps. It’s when they have gained enough skill for the magic to not wipe out their reserves as well as stabilized to what their core will be, that their teachers must take notice. It’s typically a sign that they have matured enough to start testing for their masteries or secondary training at least. *She looks over at the girls* It’s not a surprise it manifested fully now.

Wong:  So, we must prepare their Trials earlier than expected.

Stephen:  After they wake up and we update them on the battle, I’ll have to tell them about this.  They need to start going on missions to enhance their studies.  *He’s still concerned, but has at least settled down slightly with this news.  In fact, even if he won’t admit it here, he’s rather proud of them for advancing so quickly.*

Ancient One: They will also need additional training as they will be traveling back to their own world to start up their own order from scratch. We do not have first-person records here of when our order was founded so we will have to do our best to prepare them. Find out their strengths and weaknesses and what roles they will end up playing. What do the two of you think, as their masters?

Wong:  Trix is more oriented towards theoretical aspects and diplomatic relations.  She does well in the field, but has difficulty handling certain phobias, which may restrict her ability to handle rapidly-shifting situations.  She can work under pressure, but it cannot be sustained for long.  I suspect that she may be more inclined towards becoming a Librarian and record-keeper.  Though she is more than capable of outreach and defense when necessary.

Stephen:  Prettywitch is highly creative in her spellwork and practices caution with her foresight.  Though she does struggle a bit socially.  She seems more oriented towards a strategist with her foresight and a battle-mage with her talent for offensive spells.  She can handle stressful situations decently enough.  Steward is intelligent and determined.  Though she can be incredibly stubborn if not sufficiently talked down in time.  She is a decent strategist and empathetic towards others.  However, she does need to work on her temper and patience.  She’s very resourceful and curious.  It has proven to be both an advantage and disadvantage in that it helps her solve problems very effectively, but can occasionally lead her into trouble.  I think she’s best suited to field work and research, but can be called into combat when necessary.

Ancient One (smiling): It seems they balance each other out. How lucky they are to have found each other. Very fortunate for their world to have a stable bedrock for their version of the order to form upon. We will have to wait for Blackie to bloom so we can find out just where her strengths lay, as well as Tear. What are your plans for their futures then? They don’t have to work in the shadows as we once did.

Stephen:  First, we should start sending them on missions both as a team and alone to see how they fare.  Once we see how they handle themselves, I think that we’ll have to assist them in building their Sanctums.  After we get them settled, it’ll have to be up to them to decide their next steps.  We’ll supervise and advise them for a while, but will gradually step back until they can support themselves fully.  We’ll do our best to help them whenever they need it, but otherwise, go back to our own business.

Ancient One (teasingly): And how will you survive not having your ducklings under wing all the time? *She grins at him*

*He gives her a withering look.*

Stephen (wry expression):  With all due respect, very amusing.  *He says sarcastically.*

Wong (smirking):  There’s no point in hiding it anymore, Strange.  You’ve gotten attached.

*The younger sorcerer gives Wong an annoyed look, having been called out again.*

Ancient One: You say that, Wong, like you haven’t been similarly affected. Perhaps not to the degree Stephen is, but well on your way yourself.

*Wong huffs to himself quietly.*

Wong:  They are simply our students.  We care about their growth because it is only the right thing to do.

Ancient One: I see. *She raises an eyebrow at him before summoning a Polaroid picture out of nowhere featuring Wong and the girls* Purely mentoring.

*He has no comeback for this one.  Stephen has a shit-eating grin when he sees the picture.*

Wong (at Stephen):  Don’t you start too.

Clea: (giggling) Awe! You two have become quite the pair of Mother Ducks, I see.

*Stephen blushes at her remark.  Wong simply lets out a half-hearted defensive grunt.*

Clea: That reminds me; we should probably move them to a safer place. Shouldn’t we?

Wong:  I don’t think it’ll be easy.

Stephen:  I’ll check.  

*He looks back at the girls.*

Stephen:  Those positions could hurt their backs.  I should see if they can be safely moved…

*He goes to try and carefully move Trix first to investigate her status.  Unfortunately, she appears to be fused to the ground by her crystalline growths.  He pauses to think for a moment before backing away, figuring that we’d only be upset if we woke up to each other having disappeared from sight.*

Wong:  Mhm.  *He gives Stephen a knowing look.*

Clea: *She’s grinning ear to ear.* Already found yourself in another difficult situation, I see?

Ancient One: Quite the conundrum. *She’s grinning*

Stephen (still slightly red):  I’ll spend some time meditating.  It’s long overdue after everything today.  Wong, you should rest.  You look like you’re going to fall over at any moment.  *He still doesn’t dare to try and shoo away the ghost of The Ancient One.*

Ancient One: You’ll likely want to grab some additional pillows and blankets for them. Perhaps for yourself as well for…meditation. *She gives him a smile before she disappears*

*Wong gives Stephen a look, but decides it isn’t worth arguing further and starts to shuffle off to his quarters for some rest.  He turns for a moment.*

Wong:  Clea, in the meantime, I will show you to a dormitory to sleep in for now.  It will be temporary until Strange has made his Sanctum’s guest room presentable for you.

Clea: Okay.

*Stephen watches Wong and Clea leave. Then, he gets some bedding to make us more comfortable.  Though he won’t do so for himself, wanting to be awake when we regain consciousness so he can make sure that we’re okay.  Once he’s satisfied with how we’re settled, he gets into the lotus position and meditates.*

*Around 12 hours later, we start to stir again.  Stephen lowers himself from the levitating lotus position that he had assumed and watches to see how we regain consciousness, alert for any warning signs of injury or poor health.*

*Trix begins to wake up slowly and make small noises before she suddenly freezes and inhales sharply as her eyes shoot open. She is unable to move at all, even moving her head to look around.*

Trix (panicked): He-help! *She squeaks as she begins to hyperventilate and tries to squirm*

*My astral form plummets into my body suddenly and I jump up with a yelp.*

Me (alarmed):  Ack!  Trix!  *I’m ready to fight or help.*

Prettywitch: *She sits up.* What’s going on?-What the hell!?

*Stephen quickly comes over to Trix and starts to calm her down.*

Stephen:  It’s okay.  Trix, let me free you.  You’re safe.  You just accidentally cast a crystal spell in your sleep.  Here.  *He carefully casts several targeted spells to break the crystals so she can free herself.*

Trix (out of breath): Ste-Stephen! *She’s incredibly dizzy from the mild panic attack but immediately tries to shift focus* You’re okay! *She shoots up to sit upright and grabs him in a bear hug, still freaked out by how she woke up*

Me (wobbly from the freakout, but otherwise recovering):  Y-you’re okay.  Okay, good.  Everyone is okay, right?

Stephen (gently):  Yes, everyone is okay.  Clea, Wong, and I defeated Dormammu and his army.  Your home universe will not be threatened by him again.

*I tear up and hug him tightly.*

Me (muffled slightly because the Cloak has joined in.):  Thank you.  I wish there was an even greater expression for how grateful we are.  Truly.  Thank you for coming back in one piece and thank you for saving everyone again.

PrettyWitch: *She joins the hug and nuzzles her face into the arms of Stephen’s tunic.* Yes! Thank you! You have no idea how worried we all were about you guys!* 

Trix (slightly muffled from being at the center of the hug): Thank you so much!!!! How did you all manage it? You didn’t get hurt, did you?

Stephen:  As much as I want to scold you for your recklessness, the tomes and artifacts that you all recovered from Dormammu’s Keep were invaluable aid.  Not to mention the boost from your collective energy.  Wong, Clea, and The Ancient One were vital in translating everything once we looked through the plundered material.  Wong and Clea helped hold back the army of Mindless Ones that were set to march on your world.  Several of your world’s soldiers fell after going astray, but no other significant injuries or fatalities.  *He winces slightly as he repositions his hands to hold us better.*

Me (starting to fuss over him):  Your hands are bothering you again, aren’t they?

Stephen:  It is typical after any battle.  *He attempts to wave it away.  Though he flinches when he tries it.*

Trix (suspicious): Hey, only we are allowed to hide what we do to help you. Why are you extra hurt?

Stephen:  You three are no longer allowed to hide things either, Trix.  *He gives her a look before tiredly admitting to how the battle went.*  Besides magical combat, I had to face Dormammu in a hand-to-hand duel involving the Pincers of Power.  I did what was necessary.  *Though physical fighting is still quite painful for him.  Especially with the many pins screwed into the bones in his hands.*

Me:  I’ll make a warm basin with Epsom salts.  That should help a bit.

Stephen:  You don’t have to.

Prettywitch: Yeah, but she wants to.

Trix: Let yourself get pampered! You took on the ruler of the dark dimension in a fist fight and won. Speaking of which, how did it even get to that point?

*Stephen agrees to it and I summon the supplies, mix the salts into the water, and place it in his lap so he can put his hands in.  Stephen soaks his hands and relaxes a bit before beginning to answer.*  

Stephen:  The books your group provided us had counterspells against Dormammu’s magic.  We used that against him and then I remembered Harkness’ anti-magic runes…While Clea had him distracted, I engraved them around him to form a barrier.  It effectively neutralized his casts and he agreed to a duel.  Despite his attempts to break the barrier and cheat, I managed to subdue him before he could break free, albeit just barely.  Your energy donations helped me eke out a narrow victory.

Trix (in awe): I hope to god someone recorded that because damn, that sounds badass. *She smiles at him* Glad we were able to help protect our world in some fashion, even if it was through the power of friendship… *She smirks*

Me (with a stupid grin):  So, you’re saying that…Friendship is magic?  *I’m amused by my own terrible joke, as per usual.*

PrettyWitch: *Giggles sheepishly.* I was going to make a power of love joke, but I think I’ll stop there.

*Trix can’t help but burst out laughing, the first true loud laugh in a while.*

*Stephen softens a bit at seeing that.  It’s reassuring that we seem to be recovering well, both physically and mentally.*

*The laughter cuts off suddenly as Trix sits up alert, almost as if she’s trying to hear something in the distance. Her eyes are out of focus and have a faint green glow as her head tilts to the side.*

*I pause quickly when I notice what’s happening and watch Trix with deep concern.  At first, I nudge her and try to get her attention to see if she’s mentally there.*

Me:  Hey.  HEY.  *Taps Trix’s shoulder and then starts gently shaking her.  Something is “off” and I shudder involuntarily.*

*Stephen senses something too and is on-edge.  He’s back in defensive mode and watches Trix when he sees what’s going on.*

Prettywitch: Trix…? Honey…? Are you okay…?

*Trix is too distracted by whatever it is that caught her attention. Meanwhile, a pillar of green flame suddenly comes to life next to the group. As it dies down, a very frantic Loki appears*

Loki (frazzled): Did you feel it? There’s something going on and after the strange occurrences of the girls’ magical signatures, I rushed over.

Stephen:  The girls temporarily gave me their magical energy to fight off Dormammu in their world.  Then, they were recovering properly until this.  There’s a disturbance in the Multiverse.  The energy everywhere…It’s shifting.  *He’s genuinely unnerved.*

Trix (almost in a trance): It’s…familiar… *She blankly looks up at Loki who stares down at her in shock before noticing the glow to her eyes*

Loki (gently): Hello darling. *He kneels down next to her* How is it familiar?

Trix (dreamily): It’s like being in the crystal. When I felt safe. *The glow dissipates and she snaps out of it* Loki? What are you doing here?

*I’m currently staring at Trix in concerned horror.*

PrettyWitch: Well, that was…weird.

Loki (worried): I teleported here a few minutes ago. Dear, I believe whatever happened just now had an effect on you. *He looks over to Stephen in concern*

*Stephen goes over and checks Trix more thoroughly, going into doctor mode.*

Trix (startled): What do you mean what happened? I’m fine! *She almost scrambles away at the sudden attention*

Me (bluntly):  You went into a trance for a moment.  Whatever this was, we all sensed something “off”.  *I’m using the tone I usually use when worried and wanting help or cooperation.*

Loki (patiently): Your eyes were green. You said it was like in the crystal.

*Trix flinches at the mention of her former prison but winces at her own response*

Trix: I remember the last thing before realizing Loki was here was feeling something like Loki’s magic but…more in a way. The way he would try to heal me after Agatha dragged me out. It was the only time I was truly calm there… *She frowns to herself* But whatever just happened…it’s over, right?

*Stephen scans as much as he can and then summons a few relics, testing them out and then using them to increase his detection spells’ potentcies.*

Stephen (cautious):  It appears to be.  *He’s still wary of whatever this was.*

Me:  Do we have any idea of what “it” was?

*Loki suddenly pales as he comes to a realization*

Loki (trying to keep calm): I think that this…situation may have been the resolution to a problem we luckily did not have to solve. 

Me (dawning realization):  Oh…OH.  That.  *I look at Trix and Prettywitch.*

Trix (shocked): Oh. Yeah, that would make sense, especially if things are still happening. We would have been dragged into it but we’re still here.

PrettyWitch: No kidding.

Stephen:  What do all of you mean?  The Order needs to investigate a shift of this magnitude.  *He looks about ready to go investigate for himself.*

Me:  We’ll explain, but trust us, the Order should stay out of this one.  

Trix: Besides, we’re in the Order and we have a pretty good suspicion on what’s going on. We might not have confirmation from our universe since the world kinda went to chaos but based on how things were going to go…

PrettyWitch: It’s best if you listen to us. 

Stephen (firm):  Fine, but I want an explanation.  *He looks at Loki suspiciously, as though privately debating whether or not to have us leave so he can interrogate Loki alone.*

Loki (placating): I know it’s suspicious but I swear on my magic that I do not have any tricks. This is not my particular doing. *He suddenly stiffens as a dark green glow begins to shine from his eyes and around him*

Trix (concerned): Loki?!

Loki: Peace, your variant of Loki is fine. I will not have another version of myself have his life ruined for actions not of his own making. *The being overshadowing Loki turns to Stephen, making eye contact* Sorcerer, the multiverse is safe enough. You and your apprentices will live now. You in particular know the art of winning through strife. A perpetual time loop to win against all odds. Let another handle this burden and live your life.

*Stephen watches and listens intently.  He senses truth in these words and the power behind the being responsible.*

Stephen (respectful nod):  Very well.  *Whatever this was, it resonated strongly with him.  The group lets out a collective sigh of relief.*

*Loki nods before the glow disappears and Loki staggers a moment, staring wide eyed at the others*

*The group of girls gives Loki a knowing look.  It’s oddly comforting.*

Loki (shakily): It seems the last of my existential horrors has resolved itself leaving me a free man.

Stephen:  I’d still like the information for our records in case of future incidents.  *Though he’s relieved that at least HE didn’t have to be the one to go through it this time.*

Me:  I’ll get the basin again and we’ll talk while you rest your hands.  Trix, want to take dictation and maybe add extra info in when needed?

Trix: Of course! *She shakily stands up before linking arms with Loki* Storytime and then we are going to have a self care week and treat ourselves. Because all of this has been bullshit but we have survived!

PrettyWitch: Yes! Maybe I can get a massage!

*Stephen finally relaxes a bit and follows us to a more cozy area of Kamar-Taj.  I make his hand soak and we brew some tea to go with some cookies.  We make ourselves comfortable and sit while catching Stephen up on the TVA incident.  Trix uses magic to write everything down so she doesn’t have to scramble with a pen and paper.  I’m back to sitting down with a warm blanket over my legs to soothe my own painful joints.  Wong eventually finds us.*

Wong:  I take it that you and the group have information on the recent disturbance?  *He looks at the magical parchment filling itself and then at Trix. Trix waves in response before focusing back on recording.*

Me:  We do.  This record Trix is generating will show everything.

Wong:  I see that my lessons are beginning to stick.  Good.  *He gives a small, rare smile at Trix.*

Trix (beaming): Thank you! I do listen…sometimes.

*After the paper is finished, Wong looks it over curiously.  His expression is hard to read, as usual.  Though after a while, he seems satisfied and puts it down to let Trix bind it properly, watching her technique.*

*She’s somewhat nervous but casts the spell to bind the book. It is a bright orange, but seems to be rather solid and isn’t falling apart.*

Trix (nervously): Well?

*He picks the book up and checks it.  After a minute, he looks at Trix and gives an approving nod.*

Wong:  Yes.  You have learned well.

*Trix grins and flails in joy before trying to collect herself.*

Trix: Thank you!

*Stephen is amused by Trix’s reaction to praise.*

Loki (pinching the bridge of his nose): Norns, you are like a younger version of me. *He rolls his eyes before turning to Wong and Stephen.* Now, since it appears I am free to forge my own path as it were, I was wondering if I may be given refuge here. I would be willing to share my knowledge of mage magic of course. I just can’t go to New Asgard. I am not Thor’s Loki and frankly I would appreciate being my own person. Being surrounded by people who appreciate magic would be a wonderful start.

*Wong looks at Stephen dubiously, but the younger sorcerer gives Wong a sincere nod, indicating that it really is safe.  Wong surveys his friend for a moment before turning to Loki.*

Wong:  Yes.  You may stay here so long as you do not abuse magic.

Loki (frowns): Of course.

Wong:  Then you are welcome.  *He is respectful.*  I will show you to available quarters.

Loki: Thank you, Wong. *He turns to everyone else* I will see you all soon.

*I wave as they leave.  A few seconds later, Blackie walks in.*

Blackie: So…What's up ? *smile*

Me:  Not much now that the latest incident’s been handled.  How are you feeling today?  *I’m happy to see her up and about.*

Trix: Just the same old world shattering events. *She grins.* Luckily we got to sit this newest one out. 

Blackie: I should be the one asking how you are feeling.

Me:  Eh.  Could be better, could be worse.  I’m just happy that everyone’s in one piece.

Trix: Any mission we don’t land in the infirmary at the end is a good one.

Blackie: I think that's the most important. 

Me:  Exactly.

Stephen:  Welcome to the group, Blackie.  We’ll help you adjust in any way that we can.  For now, we’re taking a bit of a break before tackling the main project.

Blacky: Thank you, Stephen. I'll do my best to help around. *she nodded respectfully*

Me:  So, what would we like to do?  

Trix: Actually relax for once. We’ve been constantly going or almost dying since the stupid Chupacabra.

Me:  Yeah…Honestly, I still feel like I could sleep all day, but I know my brain won’t let me.  How about a movie night like old times?  

Blackie: To be honest…I crave that.

Trix: Hell yes! *She turns to Stephen eagerly*

Stephen:  I don’t see why not.  *He removes his hands from the basin gingerly and carefully flexes his fingers.  They seem to move a bit better now and Stephen looks relieved to not be in as much pain.*  Let’s head to the rec room.

*The group moves to the rec room and gets re-situated.*

Stephen:  I know the effects aren’t nearly as good in our movies, but want to try our version of “The Blues Brothers” to see what all of you think?

Me:  All right.  I’m curious.  *I smile.*

Trix: Absolutely!

Prettywitch:  Sure, I’d be up for that.

Blackie: I'm in.

*He puts the movie on and even Wong, Loki, and Clea decide to sneak in and join us.  I seem to be paying a lot of attention to the lyrics and melodies to try to see the differences.  Whenever a particularly absurd/bad special effect goes off, I lightly raise an eyebrow in amusement, but I don’t roast the movie out loud because I’m trying to be polite.*

Trix: I love this. In a Monty Python sort of way.

*I can’t help but let out an amused snort when the chase scene clearly cuts to an obvious toy car on a model track being led by a fishing line for the big bridge jump scene.*

*Trix is actively trying not to laugh but is watching Stephen out of the corner of her eye to see if it’s acceptable or not*

*Prettywitch quickly excuses herself and laughs it up in the bathroom before returning to the movie.*

Blackie: Doctor Who fan here. I'm immune to that kind of stuff. *She chuckled amused*

Stephen:  It’s fine.  You can laugh.  We all know it’s cheesy.  

*Like a dam erupting, Trix can’t help but burst out laughing*

Trix (trying to breathe): At least you know it exists as a masterpiece somewhere else in the universe!

*Trix’s outburst sets me off and I’m trying to be discreet as I laugh-wheeze into my collar.*

Me (laughing while talking to Stephen):  I-I’m sorry, hon.  O-Okay, okay.  The plot, writing, and soundtracks are still really good.  It’s just the effects.  We still love it, we promise!  *I laugh-snort a bit more and wipe away a tear before settling back down.*

Prettywitch: Yeah, honestly. *She curls her lips to keep herself from laughing.* Once you get past the effects it’s actually pretty entertaining.

Blackie: You are just mean. *She didn’t stop laughing though*

Loki: It wasn’t bad to me… *He seems puzzled* Is there something wrong with it?

Clea: I agree. It wasn’t bad, at all.

Wong:  Their universe’s movies have more…enhanced effects.  

Stephen:  Since their universe lacked magic before, they used a large budget and elaborate machinery and computers to make their entertainment look more realistic.

Loki: Ahhh. Well then, I will just have to see their version of movies then. I thought this was an enjoyable experience even if the music was a bit odd to me.

Trix: Don’t worry, I am introducing you to all of my favorites. All we had in our universe for the longest time was ‘movie magic’ and even that wasn’t even a century old until recently.

Clea: *Her eyes widened and intrigued.* Really!?

Trix: Yup! I’ll leave you a bunch so you and Stephen can watch them together! He’s not only really knowledgeable about music but also loves movies!

*Stephen watches the two women converse about movies.  Although he won’t admit it quite yet, Clea’s inquisitive expression is rather endearing.  She’s cute when she’s curious.*

Wong:  Indeed.  Normally, it is impossible to get him to shut up about music and movie trivia.  *He’s teasing.*

*Stephen gives him a look.*

Stephen:  You’re just mad because I beat you in trivia night again.

Me:  To catch Blackie up and get to know one another a bit better, wanna play “Truth or Dare”?  That way, you can opt out of a question if it’s too awkward.  We’ll keep the dares fairly tame so it isn’t too much pressure.  I figure it might be a fun way to talk about each other since we have so many new members.  *I glance at Clea, Loki, The Ancient One (although the others currently can’t see her), and Blackie.*

Prettywitch: *Shrugs.* Sure, I’m down for that. But no embarrassing questions.

Trix: Agreed.

Stephen:  All right.  

Blackie: Would be funny.

Wong:  Very well.

Clea: Fine by me.

Loki: I suppose… *He grins*

*The Ancient One nods silently, choosing to observe for the moment.*

Me: Okay.  We’ll go clockwise just because I’m feeling lazy and it was the first direction that popped up.  Truth or dare?

Stephen: Truth.

Me:  Okay.  Did you ever have a favorite pet? *I’m keeping it tame.*

Stephen (thinking for a moment):  Well, while growing up in Nebraska, I did have a pet horse named Bowie.  He was a very lively yearling and grew into a strong, sweet horse.  He loved apples and would always come running whenever he saw me.  He’d do this cute trot back and forth with his front hooves whenever I was at his paddock.  *When he finishes, he looks to his side at the next person.*  Truth or dare?

Trix: Truth

Stephen:  Okay…Before everything happened, what was the most adventurous thing that you did?

Trix (thoughtful): Hmmm… probably traveling cross country by train. I get twitchy if I don’t do something new and I love to travel but adore trains so I went from Chicago to Seattle by train. Would absolutely do it again. I tended to travel alone a lot too. *She turns to the next person* Truth or dare?

Loki: Truth.

Trix: Hmmm, I honestly thought you would say dare. *Thinks for a moment* What is your favorite spell to use?

Loki (smirks): Cloning myself if only to enjoy the reactions of those around me. Also easier to bounce ideas around when I’m trying to consider something or work an idea out. *He turns to the next person.* Truth or dare?

Prettywitch: Uh…truth, I guess.

Loki (smiles gently): What has been your favorite thing you’ve experienced since learning magic?

Prettywitch: Hmmm…good question. Probably using my magic to actually use Cardcaptor Sakura magic. That and getting to meet Stephen. *She turns to the next person.* Okay, Clea, truth or dare.

Clea: Hmmm…I’ll play it safe for now and pick truth.

Prettywitch: Really!? Wow, I thought for certain you’d go with dare. Anyway, uhhh…..are you enjoying your time here on Earth? Errr…Stephen’s earth?

Clea: *She beams.* Yes, I am.

Prettywitch: Okay… *Rubs the back of her head, embarrassed.* Sorry, I couldn't think of another question.

Clea: *She laughs earnestly.* Oh, it’s alright. Now, let me see…*She turns to Wong.* Wong, truth or dare?

Wong (He thinks for a while):  Hm…Truth, then.

Clea: Okay…*She thinks it over.* What’s one thing you’re better at than anyone else in Karmar-Taj?

Wong:  We are all works in progress and I am sure that someone will surpass me one day, but I have not yet failed in my duties as Kamar-Taj’s librarian.  *He’s staying humble.  Then, he turns to the next person.  There’s an empty chair, but Blackie is in the next one over.  Wong is uncertain whether anyone else is there, per say.  So, he simply asks and waits to see if anyone will answer.*  Truth or dare?  

*The Ancient One appears, calm and posed as ever.*

Ancient One: Truth.

*Wong looks at her respectfully and nods.*

Wong:  Very well.  What was your favorite activity in life?

*She pauses as the question catches her off guard before taking a moment to ponder. Then she nods.*

Ancient One: Watching the apprentices train. Seeing magic spark to life from their fingers for the first time and the joy it brought them always reaffirmed my beliefs that the mystic arts could bring joy and beauty and not just protection. I also enjoy being cryptic and mysterious because it keeps the sorcerers on their toes. *She smiles widely. She turns to Blackie.* Now, dear: truth or dare?

Blackie: Truth. *she smiles*

Ancient One:  Now that you have borne witness to many types of magic here, what is your favorite type?

Blackie: Well…to be honest all kinds of magic are beautiful and even though I love my natural bond with living creatures… I think elemental magic is my favorite.

Ancient One (small smile):  A fascinating choice, to be sure.

*The rounds continue and we learn a bit more about each other.  For instance, we learn that Prettywitch was originally a theatre major from Winnipeg.  Wong decides to do a dare involving answering the next question with a voice filled with helium instead of answering what his magical stress tic is.  We also learn about Trix’s hearing loss and my dislike for the holiday season.  Stephen opts to slow-dance with the Cloak rather than answer a different question.  Loki decides to take the dare of kissing someone instead of answering a question about his past. He ends up smooching Stephen.  Stephen is unamused and discreetly wipes it away when he thinks nobody is looking. The Ancient One answers a truth about how old she might be but doesn’t give concrete answers which is still the truth but incredibly frustrating.  Blackie manages to imitate many animals using her magic, even lion roars and chicken cackles.*

*At the end of the game, the atmosphere of the room has calmed down considerably.  It seems we’re getting more comfortable with one another.*

Stephen:  It’s getting late.  We should call it a night.  

*Trix yawns from her position, half laying on top of Loki’s lap and half on top of PrettyWitch. How she ended up there, no one remembers.*

Trix (sleepily): This should happen more often even with the rest of the sorcerers. There are other apprentices I’ve barely talked to and we’ve been here months.

Wong:  Well, your control of your abilities has improved considerably.  During this time of recovery, you are free to mingle.

*Trix gives him a sleepy smile and a thumbs up before cuddling into her friends more.*

*I’m currently sitting quietly in my chair with the blanket on my lap, staring into space with my eyes half-open.  It’s a bit hard to tell if I’m asleep with my eyes open or just barely awake.*

*Clea is already half-asleep but trying to keep herself awake.*

*Stephen looks around.*

Stephen:  Yeah.  Bed.  Everyone.  It was nice getting to know each other, but it’s time to get some rest.  We’ve all been through enough today.

*The group heads to their quarters for the night.  All three girls decide to sleep together in one of their rooms again after all of the stress from earlier.  The next day, we meet Blackie and Wong in the courtyard after breakfast to help her train.  It’s a light day.  So, nothing too strenuous.*

Wong:  Greetings.

Blackie: Good morning.

Me: Hello, Wong.

Prettywitch: Morning, Wong.

Trix: Good morning!

Wong (to Blackie):  I will supervise your technique.  Please perform the appropriate gestures that we went over, Blackie.

Blackie: Sure. *She manages to perform the hand gestures, slowly but surely*

*We watch.  So far so good.*

Wong:  Okay.  Now, assume the form of a fox and then change yourself back.  Remember how I taught you to control your shapeshifting.

Blackie: Eh I will try. *She took a deep breath to relax then fox ears appeared on her head with some mustaches on her face*

*The other girls watch to see how it goes.*

Wong:  That one was shaky.  Again.

Blackie: *she nodded then focused again. That time, only a fox tail appeared behind her*

*After she practices her own shapeshifting a few more rounds, she seems to get the hang of it.*

Wong:  Good…I sense some energy build-up.  You may choose to either disperse it into the universe as scattered energy or redirect it to another spell.  Be careful.

*Blackie seems to struggle again and she tries to disperse the energy harmlessly, but it backfires in a wave that consumes the group in the courtyard.  Within seconds, there is a group of confused animals standing around, wondering what just happened.  A big, fuzzy Tibetan Brown Bear groans indignantly at a small fox. Meanwhile, a raven, shih tzu puppy, and coyote look at each other and the other two animals before a chorus of various calls erupts forth.  Stephen emerges from his study, wondering what’s going on.*

Stephen (confused):  What the hell…?  *He sees the various animals.*

*The raven attempts to caw but makes some croaking noises that almost sounds like words*

*Stephen attempts to figure out what’s going on, but he already has a suspicion.*

*The coyote looks at him and makes several irritable yips and small growls in an attempt at communication.  The bear slowly rolls onto its feet and faces Stephen.*

Raven (with a lot of difficulty): Shift bad

Stephen:  *With realization of his suspicions*…Do I want to know?  All right, let me see if I can reverse this.  

*He didn’t cover shapeshifting as well before since his specialty is more Eldritch magic.  So, this is new for him.  He tries a couple of basic reversal spells, but they don’t do much of anything.*

*Puppy-Prettywitch runs over to Stephen and starts tugging on his pant leg, trying to get his attention.*

*He looks down at her, trying to figure out which girl this one might be.*

Stephen:  What is it?  Which one are you?

*Puppy-Prettywitch stands up on her hind legs and tries making eldritch tarot cards, but nothing happens. Not because she can’t use magic in animal form, but because she has no thumbs as a dog, which frustrates her, based on her whining.*

*The bear walks over, glances at the library, and then back at Stephen before letting out an annoyed huff.*

Stephen:  Let me try one more thing first.

*The bear stands up on its hind legs, towering over him with a rather irritated expression.  Stephen quickly changes his mind.*

Stephen:  Okay!  I’m going!  I’m going!  *He darts off to the library.*

*The raven caws in amusement before hopping on the ground over to the bear to attempt to climb on.*

*The bear is less than thrilled, but tolerates it.  For now.  Meanwhile, the coyote begins to pace, sniffing around.*

*The fox looks down almost apologetic and sniffs around trying to find something.*

*Puppy-Prettywitch decides to wait for Stephen, trusting he’ll put two and two together soon. So she plops herself down on the floor and sighs, contentedly.*

*The coyote starts grooming itself in the meantime after not having found anything worth eating.  Meanwhile, after being preened on the sensitive part of his ears for a bit too long, the bear lets out an irritable roar, startling the group.*

*Absolutely startled, the raven leaps off and flies towards the library, escaping to go find Stephen.*

*Stephen quickly finds the right spell and sees the raven flying into the library.  He isn’t sure if this will work, but he holds out a forearm to see if it’ll land on him. She takes the bait and clumsily lands on his arm before looking up at him, feathers metaphorically ruffled.*

Stephen:  Okay.  Let’s try you first.  *He places her on a chair.*  Hold still.  

*He attempts the spell and thankfully, this one DID actually go well.  Trix reassumes her human form, shedding a few black feathers as she does. Unfortunately, she was perched on the back of the chair and flails as she falls backwards*

Trix: OH SHIT!

*The Cloak manages to catch her in time.*

Trix: Thanks! Geez, that was really weird.

*It pats her head before jumping back to Stephen’s shoulders.*

Stephen (cautious):  How do you feel now?

Trix (cautiously): Really weird. And terrified of Wong. *Still somewhat dazed* I was a bird.

Stephen:  Any remaining…instincts?

*Trix thinks for a moment before focusing his hair.*

Trix: Other than wanting to fix *gestures at the disheveled look* that, I seem to be good.

*Stephen self-consciously adjusts his hair a bit for a second before getting back to business.*

Stephen:  Okay.  Let’s get everyone else back.  

*He heads to the courtyard with Trix and starts reverting everyone back into human form.  Though the less-experienced creatures do have their animals’ instincts active and it doesn’t exactly help in terms of cooperation.  Everyone does get turned back in a few minutes, thankfully.*

*I absentmindedly scratch at the back of my ear.*

Me:  I think we’re good now.  Thanks, Stephen!  

Prettywitch: Yes, thank you!

Trix: Thanks! 

Blackie: Thank you!

Wong:  Thank you, Strange.  Though next time, look into the library if you run out of ideas.  

Stephen (curled lip):  You’re welcome.

Wong:  …We’ll work on refining Blackie’s techniques to avoid a repeat.

Blackie: I'm really sorry.

Wong (understanding):  Mistakes happen.  We will work on it.  

*Clea finds her way to where everyone is. She’s clearly just woken up; she’s yawning, she’s rubbing sleep from her eye, and her hair is a mess.*

Clea: Good morning everyone. What did I miss?

Stephen:  Erm…nothing too exciting.  Just the girls helping each other with their magic.  A bit of a hiccup, so to speak, but everything’s fine.

*Blackie and the other girls continue to train over the next few weeks.  Trix, Me, and Prettywitch in particular are now studying for our Master’s Trials.  Wong and Stephen are doing their best to encourage us to prepare.*

***To be continued***

[themajortechie]

My new headcanon for a world built around Shelter x Humansongs x Sad Machine (in that order)!

Okay, so this is the first time in a LOOOOOOOOOOONG time that I've written out my headcanons for anything, but MAN. Humansongs is a BANGER of a song and the more I think about it the more I feel like it intends to build off of Shelter in some way or another. I tried to also include Sad Machine into the theme of the story as well. The crackling flames at the end of Humansongs makes me feel like there must be some kind of bittersweet ending to the story. Like maybe Rin's escape pod/shuttle thing has finally landed on another habitable planet, but she's now old and weak after the many years that were spent traveling, and much of what there is now to experience in reality is left up to whatever she may have left behind with the virtual world and her escape pod.

Story headcanon, building off from Shelter:

Rin, in the loneliness of the endless virtual eternity she calls home, creates a companion for herself, molding it around the memories she has recalled of the short time she lived on Earth. This companion AI is very rudimentary at first, being more a construct of the environment that Rin has drawn around her—for now, the best recreation of her former home on Earth that she can muster—than a true human-like being.

As time passes, she creates more and more of these AIs to keep her company. She grows older, and as the decades alone in space pass, weaker as well. By the time of her old age, an entire digital society has formed thanks to her, and the virtual world she called home is no longer lonely. She is no longer lonely. This society has grown considerably more complex with time as well, now being nearly indistinguishable from human society as she remembers it. And after raising so many of these AI companions, it is now their turn to return the favor, and care for her in return. The very first AI she had created returns, tasked once more with keeping her company just like it had been originally created to do.

To Rin’s surprise, it doesn’t only care for her. It’s almost as if it wishes to become her, to carry on her legacy. She tells it what stories she remembers of the human world, and its human songs. For the first time in many years, song begins to flow. It begins as a trickle at best—her voice awkward from such infrequent use—but even in her old age, she sings. The AI knows that Rin’s time is short, and wants to learn as much as it can about not only Rin, but the life she’s lived, and the world she came from. Though her best explanation is far from detailed or accurate given her age when she left the planet, the AI understands that for all the good humans have shown through Rin alone, they still warred. They still neglected others for their own selfish gains. But still, humans were wonderful and strange creatures.

It eventually becomes known that the shuttle and its inhabitants are finally approaching a distant planet—its destination. The AI admits that it feels bad for wanting to replace Rin, even if it’s with good intentions. As the shuttle draws closer, Rin finally awakes for the first time in many decades, and watches the little blue marble in the darkness grow bigger and bigger, the voice of her companion(s) in the virtual world still echoing in her head as the shuttle enters the atmosphere. The story ends with the shuttle now on the ground, partially buried in dirt as fire crackles around it from the heat of the re-entry. The sounds of song echo quietly from within.

[ghostchanuwu]

Okay, does the anime still have the TRio? Or does everything that happened to the TRio in canon happens to the evil teams?

(Because I have the humorous mental image of poor Archie and Maxie getting drawn upon by Jigglypuff…)

Also does ash win Kalos league? And what happens to every evil team leader?

AniRedux TRio act more as a monitering group using the excuse of trying to steal Pikachu during the Kanto section but after the truth about Team Rocket is revealed they mainly just keep tabs on Ash and his group to make sure that they're alright (Leaf's direct orders since they don't want a suprise Lance 2.0 situation happening again)

(Oh hey look another cut who would have guessed)

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

RR Alola bit it does hilariously enough happen to RR Ghetsis after his Hydregon got obliterated the dragon never stood a chance

Also fun little thing Jigglypuff is technically Meowth's little cohort!

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

The Kalos League gets interrupted a bit earlier during Ash and Alain's match (theyre both down to their final 2 mons each) and that year's league is fully cancelled after most of the surrounding area had been deemed unsafe

They do however get their rematch in Masters 8 and Ash wins but just barely

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

AniRedux Team Rocket deviates HEAVILY from canon, Giovanni originally formed it as a defensive force for Viridian and Saffron along with it actively funding excavations into Mt Moon and assisting in natural growth of Diglett Tunnel making sure that it didnt disrupt any infastructure (Giovanni basically used is knowledge of ground types for some really good things), during Kanto arc he gives partial command to Leaf while he still acts as the face of Rocket to deture any attention that Leaf's opperations might attract from the league (Giovanni ends up getting one of the best ends out of all of them being able to reconnect with Silver since he was still an absent father)

Archie ends up disbanding Team Aqua and leaves it in Matt and Shelly's hands (they end up pairing off with Hoenn's Ranger Corp) knowing that his time as leader is at a close while Maxie on the other hand fled the region completely and was never heard from again although there are unsubstantiated rumors that he is still in contact with Archie, Tabitha completely took over dissolved Team Magma and had a little merger with Devon (Roxanne took over as head of Devon since neither of the Stone siblings wanted anything to do with it) while Courtney now seeing very little interest in Hoenn returns to Kalos (she was originally one of Lysandre's Admins and returns to that position)

Cyrus is much closer to his PokeSpe counterpart that in Cynthia smasks some sense into him when they duke it out (Red Chain controlled Palkia and Dialga vs Giritina) and he eventually mellows out choosing to live in a more secluded area of Sunnyshore having taken interest in building machines again (he does have a Rotom and all the appliances in the Eterna Galactic base were built by him as a little side project)

Ghetsis ends up getting frozen by Kyurem after it had went into an uncontrollable rage upon being freed (both N and Iris have to calm it back down with the both of them nearly getting frozen too when Reshiram was absorbed trying to guard Zekrom)

Lysandre almost is sucuessful in firing the Ultimate Weapon since it had a full charge, it doesnt hit itself and instead wipes Geosenge Town off the map completely (also the routes south and east of it) along with damaging quite a bit of Mirror Cave and Cyclage City, he is struck down by Yvetal since it still craves life energy and he is the only one left in the area that had not either been killed or turn to stone by the blast (Xerneas does bring life back to the area along with unpetrifying everyone although there were still heavy casualties)

Lusamine still gets hit with a heavy dose of Nihilego toxin but recovers even though it is much slower than she wished, her relationship with her children is still rocky but it is much better than it was before

Guzma opened up a café themed around bug types (Hau and Mallow decided to work there too to spread the joy of Alola's cuisine and culture through specialty malasadas) the Ultra Recon Squad has also claimed it as their favorite rest stop since its close to the motels and Zossie of course became addicted to the Tapu Cocoa

Rose handed off ownership of Macro Cosmos to Oleana literally minutes after Eternatus had been quelled and was almost completely out of the region until out of everyone Peony catches him as he was just about to leave the Crown Tundra and drags his ass back to Wyndon of course after thrashing his team to bits (steel v steel but Peony has much more battling experience along with an Aggron that knows flamethrower)

[lunaeverywhere]

Echolalia

You had a dream of a woman in a dark dress, which seemed to end in shadows trailing off to something much more vast and unseen. She stood on a raised stage, far end of the room from you. And she sang, haunting, in a language you couldn't recognize. It was beautiful

You woke up with just a snippet of the song stuck in your head. Her voice must have carried on for 20 minutes, but the dream left your head in the way dreams do, leaving just a few seconds. You find yourself singing the lyric throughout your day, under your breath or vocalized.

You notice though, other people singing bits you recognize as being from the same song. A few syllables here, half a sentence there. The same partially remembered lyrics, in two-second intervals appear everywhere in your day. It isn't long until you hear one connecting to yours.

You find you so easily pick up those bits, extending yours by a fraction of a second each time. And in turn, your compulsive singing helps others expand their tune. Soon, voices you didn't hear singing are singing along, themselves having picked up a bit of someone else's song.

The song has become intrusive. Your few seconds have become several minutes, looping in your mind and on your voice. And your longer song means you're more likely to find someone else singing a part you don't have yet or vice versa, and your song grows. Nearly everyone is singing.

Local news calls it the Choral Plague. And so many around you are infected. Its become accepted locally, that people will generally be singing if they're not actively speaking for more than a few seconds. The worst afflicted even will interrupt themselves by beginning to sing.

You see the same woman, fine black dress trailing off to some unseen creature in the shadows, singing in your dreams. She only sings your current song, but you remember it vividly. She sings a more correct version. You wake up less sharp, less flat, your pronunciation clearer.

No one is sure what happens when the song is full, but you're all getting so close. You're all getting closer. Everyone's songs are easily 10 minutes long and growing by the day. Without easy use of speech, everyone writes real communication, singing the background of the world.

As the song approaches completion, people form groups to sing their songs, to pick up other people's songs. Choirs thirty people strong meeting daily to try to finally finish the song. Everyone only needs a few more seconds, and songs expand by a syllable or so every day.

Finally, as many people as possible are gathered in the largest church in town, the largest auditorium filled. Everyone tries to listen to their neighbor's song. And finally, it happens. A conductor motions for a pause. Everyone inhales sharply. 1, 2, 3, 4.

You all start at the same note. You don't know what will happen when you hit the last one, but you know you want to be as close to the front as you can. You get up, not breaking your song as you work your way through the crowd to the front. The lights dim. The curtains draw.

The woman steps out, the clear lighting showing her ash-gray skin clearly, contrasting her deep black dress, and her blood red jewelry. She takes the mic, leading everyone in her song once more. Your eyes cant help but follow her dress back, into the shadows past the curtain.

You cant see more than a glimpse of whatever's back there, the same blacks and reds that adorn her. But it is massive, flecks of red reaching up to the ceiling. Then you notice tendrils of inky black flowing from the sides of the stage. As the song reaches its end, you approach.

You touch one, and it flows up your arm, feeling like soft, silky velvet. You watch as it flows over you, coalescing into the same dress the woman wears. Your skin turns ashen as well. A few others, all original singers of the Choral Plague, are touched as well, transformed.

Your song rings strong. Most have returned to normal communication, though many still write instead of speak. You are among the writers, though you have not stopped singing. Your new body has just so many songs to sing, and so many need taught to sing them.

[batmansblushofrobins]

Bridgerton as an AroAce Part 2

Queen Charlotte:

This is my favourite season. I don't have any specifically aroace to say about it, but I LOVED it. I loved learning more about Violet and Lady Danbury, I loved the Queen and her relationship with the King. I nearly cried when Brimsley and Reynolds' dance cut to Brimsley dancing alone. This spin-off made me want to rewatch the original show and pay closer attention to the Queen.

Season 3:

COLIN/PENELOPE: This was a nice romance, but to be perfectly honest, I was more interested in the Lady Whistledown drama and familial relations this season. However, I do want to say that I liked how Colin supported Penelope and that their relationship was built on a strong friendship. Colin has shown throughout the show that he doesn't care what others think of him for being friends with Pen (excluding that one time right after he returned from abroad) and chases after her time after time.

ELOISE: Eloise had an interesting shift this season. She made an unlikely friend in Cressida Cowper and attempted to fit in with the other girls of the ton. In my opinion it was still obviously her, just her trying to act different (her and Colin mirrored each other well in this aspect). I liked seeing more sides of Cressida. Her past actions weren't excused, but they were at least somewhat explained.

FRANCESCA: I feel like I don't know much about Francesca; she hasn't been a big part of the show so far and I haven't read the books. But as soon as she had a partial spotlight on her I immediately thought that she was aroace or arospec/acespec. Her quiet adoration for John that grows as they spend time together was something that I resonated with intensely. In addition, I really appreciated that they showed how her mother doted on the other Bridgerton children's partners because they fit the typical romantic model while she withheld approving from Francesca, because that is something aros and aces face in real life. Our relationships aren't taken seriously by friends, parents, etc. Her love for John, despite not being entirely romantic or sexual (or even if it is one or both of those, it is not what's "expected"), is still love. She clearly cares for him and enjoys his company, and that's what matters.

I feel like the writers practically threw all they built up this season away by showing her instant attraction to Michaela in the last episode. I'm glad there is bisexual rep in mainstream media, but I don't think introducing the next love interest while she's newly married was the best choice. Since Francesca will end up with her, it feels like they are showing that her non-passionate relationship with John she spent the entire season defending can be abandoned at the drop of a hat. That it is worth less than a passionate relationship. And that really hurts. I hope that the show will be careful about developing the relationship between Michaela and Francesca going forward and that they don't go back on what they've set up as I fear they might.

Bridgerton as an AroAce

As an aromantic asexual, I have a lot of thoughts on romance in media and amatonormativity. I used to just hate all romance on sight--it got to the point that any time a book hinted at two people getting together, I would get annoyed. It took me a while realize it’s not the romance that bothers me, but how it is treated as something to be wanted by everyone even in worlds on the other side of the universe. I like watching things centered on romance but dislike romance being inserted into other genres (plus, established relationships/domestic fluff makes me cringe). I've grown more tolerant over time and can even appreciate some canon ships if they are done well; the first of which I can remember enjoying was Six of Crows, and I could write a whole other essay on why its romantic pairings worked; however, I would much rather read fanfiction about two characters getting together that I feel have the right chemistry for it than chance reading or watching something with romance that I will, in all likelihood, hate. There was a post on here a while back that talked about how if they were reading fanfiction, that meant they were specifically seeking romance out and in the mood for it. I will try to find and link it, because it's really relevant here.

Anyways, enough of the personal preface. Here are my romance-related thoughts on Bridgerton Season 1:

The only other romance shows I've enjoyed are the Pride and Prejudice 80’s miniseries and Heartstopper, so I surprised myself by liking Bridgerton.

SIMON/DAPHNE: Obviously I liked this season enough to keep going, but, looking back, I like it the least. It has a lot to do with Daphne SAing him and being forgiven by the narrative (it made me do the whatever is the opposite of putting on rose-coloured glasses when I remember the season. spilling milk over the film reel? idk), but even if I think of their relationship before that happened, it’s not my favourite. I liked the fake dating trope, but sometimes the misunderstandings were a bit much. Every time they talked, things improved. I know that it's for the drama, but I was still annoyed when they avoided each other again and again.

ELOISE: I related to her so much. She had no love interest this season. She rejected social conventions and the typical path for a lady, was more interested in reading than the idea of courting someone, and wanted to remain a spinster with Penelope forever. So many of her lines resonated with me. I knew because of the type of show that there was no way they would keep her single, but I guess I still had hoped for the impossible.

Season 2:

KATHANI/ANTHONY: This was my favourite pairing of the whole show. I loved how they could be vulnerable together and how many parallels there were between them, such as them feeling the need to protect their younger siblings. Anthony choosing to marry Edwina frustrated me, but I was frustrated at the characters rather than the writers. It felt in-character instead of being there to further the plot along.

ELOISE: This season, Eloise anxiously made her debut. Her mother pushed for her to give love a chance. Violet is well intentioned, but she believes romantic love is the only way to be happy in life since it was what made her happy. Eloise dodged potential suitors and stuck close to Penelope at the balls. Despite this, she got a love interest as I feared. Her relationship with Theo was… cute, unfortunately. I was still upset that she needlessly got a love interest, but at least it was based around intellect which is true to Eloise’s character. Another thing that happened this season was that Kate told her that being a spinster is not as great as one would think. That is probably true for the time period since women didn’t have the freedom to move about the world without a chaperone, but it still perpetuates the idea that single people, specifically women, won’t be happy long-term.

[newdaddyny]

The Bearded Man

Backing up my story from my old tumblr.

“Are you ready for your surprise baby?” He asked her as she laid there in front of him. He admired her perfect round ass in the mirror that rested against the wall behind her.

“Yes, I can’t wait for my surprise that you have been so secretive about.” she looked at him with excitement and anticipation in her eyes. He was usually so easy to figure out. However, this time she was stumped as to what he had planned.

From behind his back he produced a black silk cloth and two small foam earplugs. Outstretching his arm he handed them to her and said “Put these on and follow where I guide you. Remember no peaking and no questions, only focus on what you are feeling”

He watched as she put on the blindfold and earplugs. With a smile he took her by the hand and lead her to the bed sitting in the center of the room.

His words run through her head and she focused on what she felt. She felt the soft sheets beneath her as she was guided down onto the bed. The next sensation she felt was hands running over her body. squeezing her perky breast, slipping beneath clothing and toying with her nipples. She felt the touch trail down her body and reach her pussy. Gentle rubbing mixed with the hot breath she felt on her thigh sent shivers down her spine. She felt strong finger toy her clit through the lacy black fabric covering it and she couldn’t help but moan. She felt herself become soaked from the stimulation and the anticipation. Her panties were pushed to the side. The cold air of the room hit her wet folds was followed by the stark contrast of the hot breath returning and even closer this time. The breath moving across her skin, her sense was heightened by the anticipation of a mouth on her pussy. Finally she felt what she was waiting for a soft, hot, wet tongue slowly traced her lips and found its way to her clit. She bucked her hips pressing herself against the mouth, greedy for more pressure. She froze and instantly felt like it had ice was running through her veins. She couldn’t believe what was happening and was immobile from the shock and excitement.

Presses against her dripping pussy was a mouth. However this was not the mouth she had originally anticipated. Following her earlier instructions she focused hard on what she felt. She anticipated the clean shaven face of her boyfriend to be pressed against her pussy. What she felt in reality was quite different. This strangers mouth clearly donned a beard, the feeling was mistakable. As this realization that a stranger was face to face with her pussy she began to moan. Partially from the pleasure of the skillful mouth exploring her wetness and part to the excitement of what was happening. Her moan was muffled by a hand and that drew her attention to the fact that there were now four of them roaming her body. Her boyfriends and the strangers touches were indiscernible. Fingers were in her pussy and on her clit. It wasn’t long until these hands brought her to orgasm. She felt wave after wave of pleasure wash over her as her pussy contracted and spasmed on the fingers manipulating her.

As her orgasm subsided and she regained her focus. she noticed the absence of hands roaming her body. Instead the next sensation she felt was that of a hard cock pressing against the entrance to her pussy. Slowly she felt her lips separate and give way to the large cock that was entering her. She felt the bed sink by her head as someone knelt above her. Then she felt the other cock press against her mouth. Just like the hands the cocks were indiscernible. Each end of her was filled and after some time of each hole being roughly used the cock in her mouth came first. It filled her mouth and throat with many shots of cum. She swallowed them eagerly then focused on the cock in her pussy. It wasn’t long after the one in her mouth came that it was the others turn. The thrusts became quicker and rougher. Strong hands gripped her hips pulling her onto the hard cock even more. She felt herself being stretched full by the thick base of the cock pounding her. The cock sunk in her as far as it could and began to twitch. Her boyfriends words from before rang through her head again focus on what you are feeling. As the cock inside her twitched she felt rope after rope of hot sticky cum fill her pussy. The excitement of not knowing who was cumming inside her pussy sent her over the edge again and she came. This orgasm was stronger and lasted longer than before.

She laid in the bed trying to catch her breath. A number of minuets had passed and she had mostly recovered. The blindfold was removed from her eyes and the sight of her boyfriend was before her. Pulling her earplugs out her first question was who the other person was and who came inside her? Her boyfriend smiled and said that he would never tell.

As she left the apartment in the morning the neighbor across the hall was doing the same. He smiled at her and it was at that moment she noticed his beard. Could it have been him, or possibly her boyfriends best friend. He also had a beard. every encounter with a bearded man had her guessing and reliving the night. Her boyfriend was had toyed with her on a level she had never expected and she loved it.

[naladot]

How I’d revise ATLA S3

Oops accidentally wrote down way too many thoughts... This is obviously just ONE way to revise S3, but here’s how I might go about resolving some of its plotting issues and mitigate the deus ex lionturtle issue. Please be nice; this is just a personal reimagining.

Note: I personally prefer an ATLA ending with no definite ships except Sokka/Suki. I think it would have fit the themes of the show better to leave other ships hinted but open-ended. Just to let you know what you’re getting into up front :)

So, my edits:

1) Cut or rework 309 “Nightmares and Daydreams.” The animation was cool and it was fun, but it doesn’t really serve much purpose narratively. The B plot of Zuko and Azula could be moved into “The Runaway,” or reworked significantly to open and close “The Puppetmaster” to parallel that episode’s themes of manipulation, violence, and oppression. Alternatively, the Zuko and Azula storyline could be reworked into the A plot of 309, and Aang’s nightmares moved into the B plot with the aim of highlighting Aang’s fears. A scene where his dream morphs so that he becomes Ozai, and Ozai becomes him, could set up the conflict he feels toward violence which will be dealt with in the finale.

2) I’d make some minor adjustments to other episodes, but no significant changes until 317 “The Ember Island Players.” For me, the focus of the episode is wrong—ships aside, it feels like a wasted opportunity to set up the finale. The play could proceed much as its written, but the narrative purpose of showing it is to review the cost of the Avatar State. By the end of the play, the rest of the gaang is saying, “omg we can’t win this if Aang doesn’t get the Avatar State back,” but Aang is thinking, “can I live with the violence and destruction I cause when I am in the Avatar State? Even without it, do I deserve the power I have? Can I take a life knowingly? Have I taken lives unknowingly in all of these battles?”

3) This would afford several narrative opportunities: one, a more nuanced exploration of Aang’s pacifism juxtaposed against the intuitions of the other characters. The gaang can articulate differing positions on what Aang should do in this episode. Two, it would set up a conversation between Katara and Aang where he admits that it was at least partially his inability to “let her go” in the S2 finale that caused his loss of the Avatar State. He confesses his feelings, and Katara clearly articulates that she’s confused but can’t love him in the way he wants, at least not right now. Now Aang has an answer to the question of his crush, releasing him for the next step of growth.

4) This conflict about the Avatar State within the gaang then leads more fluidly into 318. Much of the set up in 318 could stay the same, but now we already know in detail how Aang feels about the potential of having to kill Ozai to end the war, and the gaang is concerned about his lack of the Avatar State. Instead of wandering off to the turtle lion, Aang decides to return to Guru Pathik and complete his training. Having him leave without telling the others would mirror his flight from the Southern Air Temple originally, which could suggest that in some ways, he hasn’t changed even if he is trying to take responsibility—better affording him the opportunity to make different decisions later in the finale. (If it’s raining in the scene, the parallels would be visually very clear.)

5) At this point, I would also add in another B plot where Katara is contemplating bloodbending. If she has this ability but does not use it in ending the war, is that more wrong than using it in the first place? This could be easily set up by having someone (Sokka?) note that the comet is coming during a full moon, in order to compare how much more power firebenders will get from the comet compared to what waterbenders get during a full moon.

6) Aang finds Guru Pathik using the kind of sensing thing he did in “The Swamp” and the S2 finale—this time Pathik is at a different location, closer to where Ozai will attack—but things aren’t exactly as he left them. The Star Wars route would be to have Guru Pathik die like Yoda did when Luke returned, but alternatively, Guru Pathik could refuse to work with him, pointing out that what Aang did in the S2 finale was irresponsible, and Guru Pathik cannot help him to retrieve the Avatar State unless he has truly grown. They could then argue, with Aang articulating his central fear: he never wanted this power, and feels wholly inadequate to the task in front of him, especially if it consciously means taking a life. He recognizes now that even if he doesn’t want to be the Avatar, he is the Avatar, but he’s lost. Guru Pathik agrees to help him, and the two travel into the Spirit World. 

7) In the Spirit World they encounter the other Avatars, and in addition to what they have to say, Guru Pathik can reveal some of his own backstory and help Aang work through what he’s learned across the show. For example, Pathik could reveal that he’s ~400 years old, and his people were wiped out in a genocide led by an Earth King whom Yangchen failed to stop. This would give new resonance to Yangchen’s advice, parallel Aang and Pathik, and force Aang to look at the potential costs of his pacifism. The violence of the FN is uniquely destructive and violent on an unprecedented scale, but history is full of violence. Aang wonders: if he takes Ozai’s life, is he carrying out justice, or simply returning evil with evil, power with power? He could articulate why he considers taking a life to be fundamentally in opposition to the role of the Avatar, which is to hold all life in balance.

8) Much of the finale storylines I would leave as they are—Zuko’s arc, of course, is wonderfully done. Since Zuko and Katara wouldn’t have Appa (and Appa flew much faster in those episodes than he had ever been shown capable of before, anyway) they would have to find an alternative form of transportation—maybe they commandeer an airship from a FN base? Regardless, in that journey, Katara would also discuss her conflicted feelings about bloodbending, significant since Zuko witnessed her bloodbending in 316. Zuko would assure her that he knows she will do the right thing when the time comes, like she always has before.

9) In the Spirit World, Guru Pathik tells Aang that there is one more spirit he can consult, but Guru Pathik cannot travel with him, as the spirit is too ancient and powerful for a mere mortal to look at him. Aang travels along a path where he sees (in some form) the wars the Avatar has fought in the past, before finally arriving at the dwelling of the lion turtle. I’d make the lion turtle more ambivalent, acknowledging that the only way to end violence is typically with violence, and the Avatar’s role of maintaining balance is really to prevent inevitable chaos. Attachment to the chaotic mortal world ultimately prevents him from saving it. The demonstration of energy bending highlights Aang’s power, rather than his moral purity, and is explicitly connected to the Avatar State (preferably by bringing back the awesome celestial Avatar State Aang from the S2 finale holding Aang inside that ball in space). Discouraged, Aang returns to the physical world, and finds that he still cannot access the Avatar State—but he doesn't have a choice; the comet is coming and he must face Ozai now. He couldn’t save his people when Sozin attacked, but he must do what he can now.

10) In the final battle with Ozai, rather than retrieving the Avatar State by the pointy rock hitting his back, that moment activates his memories of the S2 finale. As he did then, he conceals himself in rock, and he realizes his attachment to Katara is connected to all that he has lost before her as well. However, because of his love for his people and his friends, he realizes that trying to keep them all close is what prevents him from saving them. Letting go of attachment does not mean loving them less, but loving them better. Inspired by the lion turtle’s words but also reimagining them, he is able to relinquish attachment, thus reactivating the Avatar state.

11) In the battle with Ozai, much proceeds in the same way, but rather than moving straight into energy bending, Aang traps Ozai, who taunts him again, telling him to kill him. Aang remembers what the lion turtle showed him, but now he can say something like, “I’m not like you. I don’t use my power to take life.” And then he removes Ozai’s bending—which, in my opinion, is still a form of violence, but it is meant to contrast with the former Avatars’ perspectives. Aang thus carves out a new path that neither the lion turtle nor the former Avatars envisioned.

12) In the battle with Azula, Katara also has the opportunity to use bloodbending on Azula after Azula shoots Zuko with lightning. However, we see her decide not to. After Azula is immobilized, Katara runs to Zuko and realizes she can use bloodbending to restart his heart. She does so, saving him.

13) Finally, I wouldn’t set the final scenes in Ba Sing Se. Instead, I’d have them return to the Southern Water Tribe, which is rebuilding. Mirroring the shot at the beginning of S1, the SWT welcomes Fire Lord Zuko. There are scenes of a big party with all four nations. [Insert shot hinting at your preferred ship here.] At the end, Aang looks out at the water and remarks that it wasn’t that long ago that he was pulled out of the iceberg. The whole gaang surrounds him, looking at the sunset over the water.

[a-flaming-idiot]

Ok so I’ve been thinking about a BNA Swap AU a lot recently(Clearly). So I thought I might as well put my rough take on the swap characters out there.

Michiru <--> Shirou

Shirou: He’s a stubborn, grumpy little seventeen year old high school boy. He dropped out after suddenly transforming from human into a wolf beastman and is now traveling to Anima City in hopes of finding Barbara Rose after he lost contact with her after she left on a research trip. He travels with Kuro who constantly pokes and bothers him in a very Hunter and Flapjack from The Owl House way. 

Even though he acts like he knows everything and can’t be wrong he has a habit of getting in over his head, needing Michiru to save him. He also is stubborn as hell and has no ability to admit when he’s wrong or that he can’t solo the world. He’s a little piss-boy but that’s why Michiru loves him.

Unknown to Shirou he is actually a sort of reincarnation of Ginrou. The previous Silver Wolf was killed and to keep his power out of people’s hands it hid itself away as it passed on to a child. It remained dormant and hid Shirou’s beastman traits till both were finally awakened by his worry for Barbara.

Michiru: She’s a bubbly, free spirited, kind beastman social worker in her mid to late thirties. Though her kindness masks a tendency to cold rage and hatred mixed will ruthless efficiency when provoked. Along with Michiru’s own traumas from her past she disguises with her outward appearance. 

She ends up helping Shirou after finding him in Anima City after fighting the terrorists and decides to find him a place to stay at the Co-Op. Especially since she has silently taken up the roll of Anima City’s protector after the death of the Silver Wolf. After spending time in the Co-Op, Michiru and Shirou form a more familial relationship a lot like canon, just with the roles reversed.

In the past through a series of bad events Michiru is hesitant to disclose, she ended up orphaned and alone in Anima City in her early teen years. Till she eventually met an older wolf beastman who was willing to help her. As it turned out this was the original Silver Wolf. The pair grew closer through the years, forming a very father-daughter relationship. Unfortunately through still mysterious events, Ginrou was killed while saving Michiru in her early twenties, an event she partially blames on both Nazuna and Alan.

Pinga <--> Alan

Alan: A suave, put together beastman agent masquerading as a human while charged with investigating the strange happenings going on in Anima City. Specifically after he discovers information about the living Silver Wolf. Michiru hates him since she partially blames him for Ginrou’s death. Though he’s not evil he understands to keep his distance from her since he does see he did play a part in her father figure’s death. Still he tries to continue his work which may include some less than savory choices to get his information and objectives. (A bit of a secret agent type)

Pinga: A war hero who after he encountered Ginrou on the battlefield made it his life’s mission to find him again. He seems to have lost it a bit to his obsession with finding the Silver Wolf. Now he uses his fame to attempt to manipulate people to help him find Ginrou. He completely denies any information pointing to Ginrou’s death. 

He specifically took advantage of Barbara Rose to help him research more about the Silver Wolf in hopes of finding where he now hides. He uses her due to her fantastic skills of reasoning and research that has helped Pinga make more progress recently than he has in the last seventeen years. 

Rose -> Nazuna -> Marie -> Nina -> Rose

Barbara Rose: Barbara is a wide-eyed, seventeen year old, nerdy beastman girl. She often is so lost in her own world that sometimes she doesn’t realize how much of a social outcast she has become. Her closest friend is Shirou Ogami who has become rather protective of her because of her social status.

She has recently left on a research trip that she hasn’t returned from in over a year. Specifically the trip lead by Pinga. This was all under the promise that if they do find proof of The Silver Wolf’s existence than she can take full credit and gain all the praise and fame that she truly deserves. At the cost of people like her friend Shirou, who Pinga assures will only hold her back from making the discovery of her life. 

Nazuna: A beastman con-artist who hides her true intentions behind a coy and playful façade. She has a habit of constantly eating hard candy as a continued part of her less threatening presentation as she pulls her schemes on others in and around Anima City.

In the past she was close with and dating Michiru but after a series of events she became estranged from Michiru. Specifically because Michiru silently places some blame on Nazuna for the death of Ginrou. Because of the mental toll that event played, Nazuna had to give up on her dream of hitting it big in the music and performance industry, leading her down the road that eventually led her to work in the Anima City underworld. 

She truly does feel awful for what happened and wants to fix it but knows there’s not much she can do to heal Michiru’s broken heart. She ends up falling into a sort of mentor relationship with Marie as the young mink tries to forcefully create a place for herself in the world.

Marie: She’s a spunky, aggressive, barely fourteen year old mink who comes from a rich, influential family. But because of the stuffy lifestyle Marie wants to escape her family’s shadow and carve her own place in the world. Specifically she wears cheap sunglasses and tries to wear rougher, more middle or lower class clothes to force more visual separation form her family. Or at least what she believes them to be. Winds up with a little bit of a rivalry with Shirou just because of their shared spunky crossed with hardheaded personalities. 

Marie ends up meeting Nazuna who takes the mink under her wing to help her find her place in the world. A place Nazuna was never able to find herself. 

Nina: Nina comes from a crime family that has plagued Anima City for years. But after all the damage her family has caused, Nina has chosen to instead actively help the city as Anima City’s mayor. Unfortunately she is a little over her head. Often she acts a little frantic and in lost fighting to keep the city running while keeping a sweet, happy face to the public. 

She is helped along a bit by Michiru who often comes around to act as somewhat of an advisor. The two have known each other since Michiru ended up in the city alone before meeting Ginrou. Michiru herself respects Nina’s attempts to right both her own, and her families wrongs and tries to support her in that effort. 

[peachbear88]

The Greatest Love Story

A/N: Inspired by this lovely image I saw. I'm making this into a high school angst AU that takes place in like the 1900's. For the record, I know Steve isn't a bad person but this is an AU and I need one of those... You know, guys for this story so.... Yeah! Sorry! BTW, the second poem is not written by me, it's written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and I stole some quotes from Shakespeare.

Warnings: Angst, homophobia, swearing, character death.

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader

----------

You scale the ancient wooden stairs of your small school. avoiding eye contact with anyone. The stares you receive from others are painfully obvious as you speed walk towards the library, seeking shelter from the judgmental glances from your peers.

"Hello dear," the kind librarian greets you as you walk past her towards your corner of the library.

You don't respond, quickly ducking behind the massive shelves, hoping to spend as much time as possible in your safe space before the classes start. Placing back your old books, you scan the shelves, until a particular title catches your eye.

"Love Poems by Women?" You murmur, flipping through the worn pages.

----------

A giant dusty book lands on the librarian's desk, making her look up.

"May I take this out?" You ask, your tone emotionless, cold yet tentative. The librarian smiles gently at you handing you back the book.

"Of course dear. Happy reading." You give her a small, thankful smile before dashing out of the library door. The halls are partially empty, save for the kids that skip class, hanging around in the hallways and dark alleys after school.

You duck your head, avoiding eye contact as you pass the group leaning against the lockers, most importantly, the hazel eyed beauty that could snap your neck in half, Yelena Belova.

"Hey!" Your head snaps up. Big mistake. You lock eyes with the famed blonde and you drop your head immediately, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Y-Yes?"

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." She snaps. You peek at her from the corner of your eye, her sleek dress pants catching your eye.

"Interesting outfit choice," you note before you can stop yourself.

"What did you say?" She demands and you gulp, backing away.

"N-nothing." She slowly steps towards you, backing you into the lockers.

"Get to class. And don't ever let me see you again идиот (idiot)." You hurry down the hall towards your classroom, tripping in the process as you repeatedly look over your shoulder, watching as Yelena turns back to her friend group.

---------

"She was cute," Natasha points out as Yelena reclaims her spot leaning against the lockers. "Why do you feel the need to tease her so relentlessly?" Yelena rolls her eyes, grabbing the flask of vodka back from her sister.

"She's annoying. I don't like her." Natasha smirks.

"Sure. Whatever you say."

---------

You let out a sigh of relief when the bell rings.

Your classmates flood out of the classroom, jostling each other aside in their rush to get home. You quickly sprint out the door, eager to get home, safe and sound when a hand grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a dark alley behind the school.

"Hello there girly..." A deep voice says. You gulp. The boy steps into the light to reveal Steve Rogers. One of those people that take pride in hurting others, a bully, your tormenter.

"W-what do you want?" He smirks, stepping closer to you.

"Well, a little birdie told me that someone had an encounter with a specific blonde this morning." You flinch when he grabs you by the throat, pinning you to the wall. "You wouldn't happen to be... I don't know, one of those dykes would you?" Your eyes widen and you shake your head vigorously as he laughs. "Oh man," he sputters, choking through his laughter. "Wait till the school gets ahold of this-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence because a fist connects with his face, sending him reeling backwards.

"What the-" A strong hand wraps around his throat, pushing him backwards till his back connects with the wall.

"Listen to me you маленькое дерьмо (little shit), if you ever even think about coming near her again, I will sneak into your house at night, gut you like the fish you are and paint the school with them." Yelena warns in a surprisingly calm voice. Steve's eyes widen and he nods his head frantically until she lets go.

"Crazy bitch!" He spits, backing away quickly. You shuffle your feet, looking down at the ground as she watches him run.

"T-thank you." You mutter, not daring to look her in the eye. She sighs.

"This better not become a daily thing Y/L/N." You nod feebly. "Get out of here." You quickly pick your bag back up and sprint out of the alley, leaving Yelena by herself,

---------

"I'm home mom!"

"Welcome home sweetie!" Your mom pokes her head out of the living room.

"How's your book going?"

"As great as a woman writing a book can be." She chuckles forcibly. There's an awkward silence before she continues. "Your father came by today." She pauses as you swallow, feeling like something lodged itself in your throat.

"And what did he want?" She frowns at your tone.

"Sweetie, I know you don't like him but he's still your fa-"

"I don't have a dad," you growl, picking up your bag. "My dad died when he chose to abandon us." She watches as you climb up the stairs, sighing and rubbing her temple.

---------

You flop onto your bed, dropping the thick dusty buck onto the bed. You spend the rest of the afternoon reading through the poems until your mom calls you down for dinner.

It's an awkward dinner, quiet, only the sounds of dishes, chewing and utensils filling the room.

"I'm going to bed." You say after washing the dishes, not bothering to wait for a response.

That night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of your room.

"Love poems by women." You mutter, an idea popping into your head. You quickly sit up, flicking on your lamp and pulling out the book and a pen.

----------

"Good morning dear," the librarian greets you like she does every morning.

"I'd like to return this book." You reply coldly, passing her the book once again. She smiles gently at you.

"I hope you enjoyed your reading." She says while passing you, returning the book to its original shelf.

-----------

"Hello hon, can I help you with anything?" The librarian asks the dirty-blonde haired girl.

"No, thank you." The girl sends the librarian a tight lipped smile before returning her attention to the shelves. A ripped leather cover catches her attention. Love Poems by Women. She smiles, pulling the book from the shelf. Flipping open to the title page, a neat cursive catches her eyes.

Love flows between beings Gift from the gods Curse from the demons The missing part of every person Destined to be opposites Love is flexible Yet some seek to objectify love Love is not for the weak willed. - Aristophanes

The blonde haired girl hums, pulling a pen from her jacket's pocket and discreetly writing in the book, right next to the poem.

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Terrible.

That's the only way to describe your day. You received your essay back, ecstatic to see that you had received an A. Steve on the other hand had absolutely flunked. Instead of dedicating his time to studying, he decided to beat you up as a way of taking out his frustration.

You ended up limping out of the women's toilet, your leg flaring up whenever you moved, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

"Hi sweetcheeks," the librarian murmurs, her eyes trailing down your injured leg.

"'Ello." You quickly duck behind the shelves, pulling out the book you were looking for. Your brows scrunch together in confusion as you see a messier scrawl next to your handwriting.

Reality hits hard

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

- Orpheus

You smile letting a light laugh slip from your lips. A sweet titter revealing the little girl underneath your cold, traumatized exterior.

Quickly, you grab your pen from your pocket and begin scribbling.

-----------

The air is knocked from your body as your back makes contact with the floor.

"Listen here dyke. I don't like you alright," Steve growls into your ear as Tony cracks his knuckles. "So here's what's going to happen: Everyday you're going to meet us here and," he pauses, cracking his neck. "Help us relive some stress." He smiles wickedly before punching you in the stomach, making you double over in pain.

Your eyes flutter shut as they deliver blow after blow 'till they finally stop. You tentatively open your eyes to see Yelena tackling Steve to the ground as Tony stares at them, eyes wide.

"I. Told. You. To. Leave. Her. Alone!" She screams, pummeling Steve with her fists. He groans, unmoving. You watch in terror as Tony picks up a trash can lid, sneaking up behind her as she punches Steve in the face.

"Watch out!" You scream, taking Tony as well yourself by surprise. She looks up to see you slamming into Tony sending him flying into the nearby wall of the alley.

He crumples, unconscious.

"Are you okay?" You mumble, limping towards Yelena, who's clutching a blood gash on her arm.

"'M fine,' she grits out. You shake your head, grabbing her wrist. She flinches but doesn't push you away.

"You're not okay. Let me help you." You plead. She stays silent and you quickly take her silence as a yes, leading her to the front steps of your home. You rummage through your back pack, finding a large wrap of bandages that you kept after your daily beating from Rogers and his friends.

She winces as you wrap her wound swiftly.

"Gentle!" She growls and you stare back at her defiantly.

"Well maybe if you would stop moving, it'd hurt less!" You retort and she shuts up, staring off into the distance. You dab the cut with a small bit of alcohol before wrapping the bandage all around her arm.

"Thank you." She whispers, giving you a small smile. Reaching out, she gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you flinch back. You quickly, shovel the bandages and medicinal alcohol back into your pack, not noticing the hurt look on her face.

"No problem. The least I could do since you saved me." You reply bluntly, swinging the bag over your shoulder and slipping through the door.

"Wait-" She sighs as the door slams shut in front of her.

You exhale, leaning against the door as you try to catch your breath.

-----------

Yelena sighs exasperatedly, tugging at the collar of her dress shirt.

"What's wrong little sis?" Natasha smirks, plopping down next to her.

"I got hurt and Y/N patched me up." Natasha jumps up, eyes wide.

"You stained your new shirt?" She groans shaking Yelena violently. "God I'm going to kill you!" Yelena grabs her sister, stopping her.

"You're missing the point!"

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Nat challenges, flopping back down on to the couch.

"She patched me up!" Nat's eyes widen.

"Oh. Oh." She inches closer to her sister, nudging her playfully, much to Yelena's dislike. "So are y'all like," she winks at her sister insinuatingly. "A thing?" Yelena scrunches her brows in confusion.

"A thing?" Nat rolls her eyes, sidling closer to her.

"Yes. A thing. An item? Lovers?" She shrugs, missing the way Yelena blushes.

"In her dreams," Yelena snorts, leaning back into the couch.

"If you say so..."

-----------

"Morning pumpkin!" The librarian chirps.

The blonde girl ignores her, breezing past her towards the the shelves at the very back, peeking over her shoulder quickly before pulling an old, leather bound book from the shelf.

She flips the leather cover aside to reveal the title page. Next to her messy, distorted scrawl was a neat, distinctive cursive once again.

Speak low if you speak love

- Aristophanes

She smiles gently, chuckling as she shakes her head.

"Shakespeare of all people," she whispers, her accent thickening. Pulling a forgotten pen from the shelves, she begins writing,

-----------

The highlight of your day became going to the library and reading the little messages scrawled in between the margins of the book by Orpheus. Like:

If music be the food of love, play on

Or

Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love.

They made you smile on a daily basis, sometimes even eliciting a rare light laugh.

"Good morning sweetpea." The librarian greets you, not expecting a response. To her surprise and yours, you muster a small smile and a wave.

"Hello." You can feel the librarians shocked eyes following you as you round the bookshelf corner to find Steve, eyes wide, mouth open in shock as he stares down at something in his hands.

Your heart plummets. A book with a soft leather cover, yellowed pages. The book of poems.

You lunge for it but he step sides you swiftly, raising the book above his head.

"Speak low if you speak of love huh? I'm not surprised you know Shakespeare, you're such a nerd." He sneers, waving the book above his head.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." You stutter, backing up. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, lifting you into the air.

"Don't fuck with me!" He growls, dropping the book and kicking it to the side. "Who's Orpheus?"

"G-Greek hero. Musician." You stutter and he slaps you, hard. You can feel your cheek swelling under his fiery gaze.

"Don't even try me. Who. Is. Orpheus?"

"I don't know, I swear!" You mutter, wincing when you accidentally bite your cheek.

He drops you, watching as you scramble to your feet, backing away.

"This isn't over you little shit. I'll be back for you," he warns, giving your book one last kick for good measure before storming out of the library with Tony and Bucky on his heels.

You fall to your knees, silently sobbing as you crawl over too the book, dusting it off and hugging it to your chest.

Yelena sighs, her heart breaking as she watches you curl around the book protectively, lying on the floor.

-----------

"Where are you going?"

Yelena turns to find Nat, leaning against the school stairwell doorway, watching her.

"Just up to the roof. Need some fresh air," she lies, avoiding Nat's gaze. Nat lifts Yelena's chin up, staring into her eyes, boring into her very soul. Yelena squirms under her gaze until she finally lets go.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She smiles sadly at her little sister. "Just-" Her voice cracks as she pats her sister's shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Don't worry. I won't." She gives Nat a brief hug before hiking her pants up and starting up the stairs.

-----------

"Ah, well look who decided to join the party!" You look up from the ground to see Yelena, your eyes clouded with pain.

"No..." You croak but Steve pays no attention to you.

"Come to save your love Yelena?" He sneers, dropping you to the ground. "Or should I say... Orpheus?" Your eyes widen as you watch him advance towards her, pushing her closer to the edge of the roof.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She deadpans and Steve chuckles.

"Sure. If you won't admit, I'll just have to settle for destroying you from the inside out instead." He grabs her by the arm. "I haven't forgotten what you did to me." He points at a long thin scar along his jawline.

You watch as Tony sneaks up from behind Yelena, striking her with a metal bar. She crumples, falling to her knees.

"Hold her." Steve directs and Bucky dutifully grabs you by the arms. He holds Yelena's chin in between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. "Now you watch as I destroy the one thing you love the most." Tony tosses his the metal bar and Steve prepares himself before swinging it like a baseball bat.

There's a sickening crunch followed by your scream as the bar makes contact with your ribs.

"Stop!" She struggles, her eyes never leaving your broken body as he hits you over and over again. "Please! Leave her alone!"

Steve smiles evilly, locking eyes with her before swinging the bat again. Another scream. Blood trickles down your face from your nose.

"Is that right? Did the famous Yelena Belova just beg me?" He smiles cruelly before pushing you down on your back, his foot on your chest. You scream as he increases the pressure, your broken ribs digging into your lungs.

Yelena screams, kicking Tony's legs out from under him before punching Steve in the jaw. She grabs the iron bar before it hits the ground, clobbering Bucky in the stomach before kicking Steve in the stomach.

"ты сука (you bitch)!" She steps on his face swiftly, taking satisfaction in the groan of pain he emits before turning to you, gently cradling your face.

"Wow... That was pretty badass," you mumble and she laughs, tearing up. You reach out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Don't cry." She frowns.

"I'm not crying."

"You are too." You smile, wincing in pain. "I didn't know you knew Shakespeare."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let this happen." You frown, caressing her face, forcing her to look at you.

"Hey, hey. It's fine. Don't worry. I'll be fine." You attempt to smile reassuringly but it comes out as more of a grimace. "Listen, if I don't make it-"

"Don't say that! You can't leave me!"

"Shush, listen you thickheaded poet. If I don't make it, go back to the book." You instruct her. She frowns but you can her off. "Promise me."

"But-"

"Promise me."

"I promise..."

"Good." You smile at her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, your eyesight blurring. "Wait for me okay?" Your eyes flutter shut.

"No! No Y/N! Come back!" She shakes you roughly, sobbing when you don't respond.

----------

Yelena watches as your body is carted off under a white sheet. Nat stands to the side, watching as her sister stares off into the distance, all life drained from her body.

Go back to the book.

She stands, slowly trailing towards the library, her eyes bloodshot, cheeks caked with dry tears.

"Hi dear," the librarian greets her, discreetly wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "What a shame. She was a lovely girl."

"She really was the best." Yelena agrees quietly, giving the librarian a small, comforting pat on the back before moving to the back of the library where she finds the book, lying on the floor.

Yelena,

I believe that we are the greatest love poem ever written. I love you always,

Y/N

A choked sob escapes her lips as she stares at the page. You knew. You knew the whole time and you didn't even say anything. A pair of soft arms wrap around Yelena's stomach as she lets go of the dam, her cries echoing throughout the library.

"I'm sorry..."

I'm sorry...

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