#this got a little sadder than i meant for it too

[pedrasacorn]

after that little blurb about jason still caring about reader even after breaking up with her for her own safety i now desperately need an angsty but also a comfort fic where they break up, reader is comfused and sad, jason is even sadder and maybe evn regrets his decision and then something important happens to reader and jason realizes what a mistake it was to push her away and apologises and its all good again! … lol sorry if this is too long i just liked your idea a lot :)

Jason breaks up to protect you

A/n: thank you for requesting :3 it’s so exciting and getting to challenge myself was fun!

Warnings: Blood, injury, brief description of depression, not proof read

5:30pm

Far above the city Jason watches you.

The rain and smog almost conceal his view as you exit your apartment.

But he knows your habits, the way you walk.

It’s only easy to get through your window because he’s the one who goon proofed it.

Your room is clean, as if untouched. Except the bed.

He takes stock of your fridge. Rotting vegetables he tosses, along with the moldy bread and…whatever the hell that was.

His heartache is good. And earned. Deserved even.

All it took was for one rogue to mention your existence, and that was it. Didn’t have a name; just a vague idea of your existence.

He clung to the feeling of panic lacing his veins, keeping it vivid in his mind. He used it to replace the urge to hold you, to wipe your tears, and reassure you. He knew better than to have been in your life.

He uses fresh milk to replace your…chunky one.

“I did not raise you this way…” He mutters; humorously.

As he broke up, he managed to look at your face, he imagined what it would look like dead, and bloody.

It didn’t help. Because you weren’t dead, but you looked something akin to it.

Eggs, and cheese. You don’t like eggs. He knows this.

More bread even if it goes bad again. And snacks. Easy freezer meals.

He shouldn’t, but he stays. He stays hidden in the dark where he belongs, needing to know you make it home okay.

6:31pm

Everything is a fog of grey.

The half eaten sandwich you had at work tasted like nothing.

You couldn’t even cry because—what was the point? You didn’t even really feel anything.

That nothingness multiplies when you get into your apartment. Locking everything up the way Jason taught you.

Although the stab wound, and blood dripping down your side doesn’t feel like nothing.

Sweat beeds down your face, collecting in the neck of your sweater. You just have to get to the kit Jason gave you; the medical bills were not worth it right now.

Your eyes meet his.

Your heart nearly falls out of your chest, releif flooding your veins.

“Jay I’m hurt.” Your voice breaks as tears warp your vision, softening out the world.

6:34

You, are still the most beautiful thing, he has ever beheld.

What was he doing? He had only meant to bring you food. Knowing your tendency to neglect yourself when you were heartsick.

It wasn’t your fault; he’d never blame you. Just wanted to know you weren’t going to fade out of existence the way he faded out of your life.

He runs to you, immediately ripping off your sweater, pressing his hand into your side.

“I’m not going anywhere sweets. M’right here.” He murmurs against your ear, “Who did this?”

“Some stupid—son of a bitch in an alley.” You rasp as he lies you down.

“Yeah? What son’uva bitch? You tell me. Now.”

His accent was so thick when he got upset; like when you forgot to eat, or drink water instead of caffeine.

He’s stunning.

“Hi…” you rasp.

“…hi surga’…” He soothes your cheek.

8:40pm

When you come to you’re alone in your bed.

A sob breaks through the quiet.

So light on his feet, you don’t hear him until he’s halfway into your room.

“Shhh baby it’s okay…hey, hey I’m right here.” He cups your tear streaked face.

You whimper. “You left.”

“I know but I’m not ever going to leave again okay? Yeah?” He tilts your face upward.

“You…you just think you know all the things.” You sniffle.

He can’t help his fond smile; he doesn’t mention how your words make little sense.

“Yeah?” He croons.

You nod.

“You just do things. All the time and it’s…just so you.”

Your glare holds little heat.

Even if it did, any heat from you is warmth to him.

His emotions are bared to you, he’s filled with guilt. Staying wasn’t rational, but he needed you.

He smooths your cheek with his thumb.

“Can you find some forgiveness in that pretty heart of yours?” He murmurs.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but it’s the best he can do to ask without begging.

“…I just missed you…the most.” You say, a bit delirious.

“Yeah I missed you too…” He kisses your forehead.

“Is that how you kiss the love of your life?” You glare.

There’s his sweetheart.

“Well you didn’t give me permission now didya?” He smirks.

You meet each other half way, his lips caressing yours.

[imbored1201]

hiii!

could you write something where teen r lives w ona and is always attatched to her but then lucy moves in with her and now r is upset bc she has to actually use her own bed and ona ends up buying a new bed or something.

:)

Ona’s Follower

Lucy x Ona x Teen Reader

Word Count: 2k

Yours and Ona's bond ran deep; the two of you had played in Manchester together. You were just 15 when you started playing with her; it was your first season coming from the academy, and she convinced you to move to Barcelona with her.

She always took care of you, and you practically followed her everywhere. She enjoyed the company though, teaching you everything, like how to cook her favorite Spanish dishes and even trying to teach you Spanish.

You feel the moment you really got attached to Ona was when she comforted you because of your frequent nightmares.

The two of you ended up being roommates when staying at a hotel with the United girls. 

You had hoped you wouldn't get a nightmare. That didn't go your way, considering you had one. 

You were woken up by Ona, who held you that night, and the next night, you had another one. 

Back at the apartment, you continued to sleep in Ona's bed. You realized sleeping with Ona helped you a lot since you stopped having nightmares, and it turns out Ona hated being alone in a bed to the point she had a lot of stuffed animals on her bed while she slept so she didn't feel alone. 

It was a huge win for both of you. 

————

You noticed something was going on between Ona and Lucy. Lucy was coming over every day now. You would always find them cuddling on the couch, and she would even pick you guys up to take you to training and games. 

You liked Lucy; she was funny and always brought you candy, and you always destroyed her in FIFA, so it was fun. 

————

Then the next step happened. Lucy moved in. You were panicking, to you, that meant you and Ona couldn't sleep in the same bed anymore. That made you disappointed, even sadder, watching Lucy unpack all her things. The good thing about it was that you were able to see Nala every day now. 

"Want to help me build this?" She was referring to a new dresser she had gotten. "Sorry, Luce, I need to go riding around." Lucy grinned, happy you were actually using the bike she had given you.

Ona was always complaining that you spent too much time in your room, so Lucy got you a bike, hoping it would motivate you to get out and go around the city.

That bike ride took a little bit longer than you intended. You did get caught up in your own head because, by the time you knew it, it was nighttime. Way past your cerfew. 

————

"Ona, calm down; she's fine; she probably just got caught up." Ona's eyes widened. "What if she got caught up doing something she isn't supposed to?" Lucy sighed, regretting her word choice. 

"Ona, she's a good kid; she knows not to do anything bad. She'll be back soon; you're tired; come on." Lucy led her to bed. Ona continued to stare down at her phone, waiting for any little text from you. 

She spent a couple of minutes lying down in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "She has a key, Ona. Come on, you have to let the kid do her own thing at times. She'll be back soon; if it makes you feel better, I'll stay up and wait for her." Ona sighed and nodded. 

By the time you got home, Lucy had already fallen asleep. She did wait an hour though; she was worried too, but once she finally received a 'I'm okay' text from you, that worry went away, and she fell asleep spooning Ona.

Once you finished your routine, you went to Ona's room. It was just a habit of yours at that point, and when you saw her and Lucy sleeping cuddled up in bed, something burned up inside you. Jealously and sadness. Tears started to build up in your eyes

You know it was probably childish, but it was just something you were used to. Ona had been your anchor; every time something went wrong, you went running to her. With Lucy there now, you felt like you couldn't do that anymore. 

You gently closed the door and walked to your room. It was weird sleeping in your own bed for once. You hadn't done that in forever; you grabbed one of Ona's hoodies that you stole and laid down, using it as a pillow. You hoped you wouldn't have a nightmare and fell asleep. 

————

Lucy was the first to wake that morning; she hated to admit it, but she completely forgot she didn't see you come the front door; she got lost in admiring Ona's beauty to remember. 

When Ona stirred, the first thing that came to her mind was you. She thought about last night and quickly sat up, not needing any time to fully wake up. 

Lucy noticed Ona's panicked expression when she looked at her. "What?" She asked, getting up. "Where's Y/N?!" She was panicky, walking out of the room to search for you.

Lucy quickly got up and followed her as Ona checked the living room and kitchen. Lucy checked your room, and there you were. Using Ona's sweater as a pillow and holding onto a stuffed teddy bear, Lucy won you at the fair. She even won Ona one, then bragged about being too good at everything. 

"Ona, she's in here," she quietly said, gently closing your door. Ona was about to barge into your room, but Lucy gently grabbed her. "She's sleeping." Ona sighed in relief and went back to the kitchen to make apology pancakes for you. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Lucy put her hand on Ona's hips. "Fuck Lucy, we shouldn't have slept in the same bed. I'm sorry. Y/N, she always sleeps with me; the poor girl gets these bad nightmares, and they stopped when she started sleeping with me" 

Lucy looked understanding and thought for a little bit. "You know, we need to get a bigger bed anyway; it would be beneficial for everyone and maybe even encourage a little more action," she smirked. Ona raised her eyebrows. "Lucy, we are not talking about sex while there is a child in the bedroom."

"Of course not; that's why we send her to Mapi and Ingrid's. What I'm trying to say is, let's get a bigger bed so she can sleep with us."

Ona's face lit up, and she immediately grabbed her car keys. "I'm going to look at bigger beds," she told Lucy, and left. Lucy quickly took over, smirking to herself for being a genius. 

————

That whole day, you only came out to eat the pancakes and for dinner. Lucy took control and barged into your room. You ended up crushing her in FIFA again.

It was now 10 p.m., and you were thirsty, your eyes hurt from playing video games all day, and you had done nothing productive all day. Mostly trying to get used to the fact that your room was actually going to be your room for once. 

————

"What's wrong?" Ona asked noticing your frown, you jumped, almost dropping your water. You weren't expecting Ona and Lucy to still be up at this time watching their romantic movies. "Nothing, just thirsty."

"Come watch the movie with us." Lucy made room between her and Ona. You shook your head, "I'm going to bed." Lucy didn't give up, though; she got up and threw you over her shoulders. 

"Luce," you whined. She threw you on the couch, and Ona was quick to hug you, so you couldn't get up. You sighed, paying attention to the movie. 

You were exhausted by the end of the movie, the comfort of Ona being next to you made it harder to keep your eyes open. You let your head fall against Lucy's shoulder. 

"How about you two snuggle in tonight? I'll take the couch. Then we'll go get the thing tomorrow." Lucy winked at Ona at the last part. You were confused but too tired to argue. The bed was being delivered tomorrow morning; it was just up to Lucy to bring it in on her own and build it. 

Ona led you to her room, where you collapsed on her bed. “Did you have any nightmares last night?” She asked as she got in beside you. You shook your head, rolling into her body and cuddling into her chest. She wanted to apologize for making you sleep in your own bed that night, but you had already fallen asleep. 

————

Once again, you woke up to no Ona. You huffed and got up, stealing a sweater that you were pretty sure was Lucy’s. “Ona?” You called out. 

You heard the front door opening and someone grunting. Nala started barking at whatever it was, so you made your way to the noise, thinking it was Ona. You let out a sad sigh when you saw it was Lucy. You loved her, but all the woman made was eggs in the morning, and you wanted Ona’s special pancakes again.

"Where's Ona?" You asked Lucy, who was struggling to bring in a mattress. "Store," she spoke out of breath. 

"What are you doing?" You asked. It was pretty obvious, but your brain was way too confused right now, and you had to ask questions. She let out some deep breaths before speaking. "Putting in the new mattress"

"Can I help?" She shrugged. "Sure, pull it," you grunted as you did what you were told. Ona wasn’t actually sure if the mattress would fit through the door; she just hoped it would. "Finally,” Lucy said, when the mattress finally got past the door. 

You were Lucy’s helper, playing with the tools, giving her whatever she needed, completely forgetting about your hunger. She proudly patted your back when everything was finished. 

"This calls for ice cream." She put a hand on your shoulder and led you out. You looked at her confused, but just went along with it. "I haven’t had breakfast," she shrugged. "It's fine.”

————

"Kid, you know I'm not going to take Ona from you, right?" You paused from where you were eating your ice cream and nodded, but you weren't actually sure how you felt. 

"Ona adores you; trust me, in a house fire, she would save you over me." You smiled at that. “But it’s fair; I would save Nala before the both of you."

"You promise you'll take care of her?" She nodded before adding, "I'm going to take care of both of you, I promise." She put out her pinky finger, which you took with yours. 

"That's why we bought the new mattress; it's bigger so all three of us could fit on that bed," you had a confused look on your face again, "Won't you be uncomfortable?" Lucy shook her head and let out a little laugh.

“Of course not; at this point, you’re my stepkid, you’re my favorite stepkid, and Nala is my favorite kid." She smiled proudly at that, and you appreciated it in a way. "Thanks, Lucy; I guess I understand why Ona fell for you now." “I’m just charming, ain’t I?” "Nevermind"

————

You still didn’t believe Lucy was actually comfortable with you being there, which is why you got ready to sleep in your own bed again. Lucy broke into your room once again, a rare stern look on her face. 

“What are you doing?” Lucy asked, her arms crossed. “I don’t want to disturb.” Lucy once again threw you over her shoulder and carried you to the bed. 

She set you down close to Ona who smiled at you. 

“Sleep bebita,” Ona spoke, spooning you. Lucy got into bed, leaving you squished in between them. Lucy got closer to you, making you push her away. “You have all that space over there."

“Shut up and let me cuddle you." You rolled your eyes and squirmed away from her, but she felt you relaxing after a couple of seconds. Your eyes were closing, and in a couple of seconds, you were out.

“Thank you for making an effort with her, Lucia.” Lucy nodded as she stroked your hair. 

“I’m just the stepdad that stepped up, ain’t I?” Lucy grinned, Ona rolled her eyes, holding you tighter. “Buenas noches Bronze”

[just-some-trans-nobody]

December Christmas Monster stories

December 10.) Werewolf neighbor

Ok sorry about this one, it might technically be December 11 by the time I post it but it's still the 10th day. This one is actually going to be a two parter as I wrote so damn much for this one, it was actually meant to be far more longer than this but the rest will be for later. Walter is definitely going to have more stories writen about him.

Warnings: bodys pressing together, neck sniffing with no promotion, meantion of divorce, seasonal depression

Minors Don't Interact!!!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sitting on your couch you looked down at the pathetic box of christmas decorations. It was your first time spending Christmas completely alone. No family to come over, all your friends were too far away and spending the holidays with their own families. You didn’t even bother with getting a tree this year, you didn’t see the point of doing one all by yourself. 

Looking at your empty living room, void of any Christmas decorations it only served to make you sadder. “Maybe it couldn’t hurt to get a little tree?” You mumbled to yourself. Perhaps that’s what you needed to help cheer up your seasonal depression even for a little bit.

Throwing on a jacket and some winter boots you headed out to find a store for your impulse christmas tree purchase. You definitely weren’t planning on getting a real tree. It would be too much of a hassle getting it home alone plus you really weren’t looking forward to cleaning up pine sap and needles once it started to die. 

Making your way to the store you noticed a very familiar fuzzy shape walking on the path alone. Slowing your car down to a crawl you rolled down your window getting a much clearer view of your next door neighbor Walter the recently divorced werewolf. He was walking on the snowy sidewalk with a big flannel jacket and black jeans. The sound of your car slowing down caused his ears to perk up on high alert. Without even looking at you he sniffed the air, his tail wagged when he recognized the scent he was smelling. “Well isn’t it (Y/n)!” He said, turning his head to look at you. “Heya Walter, you need a lift? It’s pretty cold to be walking around.” You told him offering a ride, you didn’t mind pushing off shopping a little longer if it meant making sure Walter was out of the snow, nothing else at all totally not because you wanted to spend more time with your recently divorced neighbor, none at all nope. Seeing the smile he flashed you at your offer made your heart skip a beat, you blamed it on seeing his sharp teeth and not because of his smile so bright it could melt frozen butter. 

Not refusing the offer to get out of the snow Walter walked to your passenger door and got in. It was only then did you notice he was wearing booties on his paws. You wouldn’t want to be walking in the snow barefoot either. Though the sight was rather funny to see, a big bad werewolf in booties with a fur trim. 

“So where were you headed? I don’t want to take you away from where you were going too much.” Walter said not bothering to buckle up, he couldn’t buckle up in your car even if he tried. He was a little too big to sit comfortably in the passenger seat but he made it work. “Oh I was just heading to the store to see if I could find any Christmas trees for my place.” You answered honestly. In the corner of your eye you could see something moving after you spoke. Glancing his way you realized it was his tail wagging. “What a coincidence! I'm on my way to get a tree too!” He said smiling, his eyes not leaving you. As if he could pull them away, how could he when you looked so cute bundled up in that jacket. “That makes things easier then.” A chuckle left your lips as you talked causing his tail to wag again. 

Pulling into the store's parking lot you tried to find a spot closer to the front, you didn’t want to walk far in the snow. You were glad the plow trucks already came or else you would have turned around and gone home. “Want to do our shopping together? I find shopping more fun when you have someone with you.” Walter offered looking down at your shorter frame, he was just so damn tall it made you feel so small. “I don’t see why not, it makes leaving easier sense we rode here together.” Your agreement made his tail wag again, you assumed it was because he was glad he didn’t have to shop alone. 

Going in you were about to grab a cart when Walter beat you to it, stepping in front of you. “I got it, you drove me here, buying your things is the least I can do.” He said pulling out a cart, as you began to protest he held up a paw stopping you. “I insist, please.” That managed to get you to quiet down. “Alright fine, I was only going to get the tree though.” That wasn't fully true, you were looking forward to getting a shit ton of junk food and eat your feelings but you didn’t want him spending a bunch of money so you would just have to get them for your next shopping trip. Walking next to Walter you soon learned you should be walking a few steps ahead of him after you consistently got hit on the mid back by his wagging tail. It seemed almost every thing made his tail wag. A good deal on something? Tail wagging. Something he wanted was back in stock? Tail wagging again. A song he liked started playing on the store's radio? You guessed it, tail wagging. It would have been very entertaining if you weren’t in the line of fire of his wagging tail. The thing hit harder than you thought it would. You weren’t even sure he noticed he kept hitting you with it as he happily rambled on about deals going on. Seeing his cart was getting more and more filled, you started to worry a little about how much he was spending that you yourself hadn’t noticed how he kept asking if you liked certain snacks. The ones that got a positive from you went into the cart, ones you didn’t like very much went back on the shelf. Once the cart was filled to the brim with snacks, the two of you made your way away from the food area. Walter was making his way to the outdoor section for a real tree and you made a turn to the Christmas decor to get a fake tree. Noticing you weren’t next to him Walter stopped and looked around for you. Spotting you walking in a different direction he turned the cart and followed you catching up quickly thanks to his larger size. “Trees aren’t over here silly.” He said, chuckling softly. “Oh uh I was just going to get a fake one, I don’t feel like getting a real one this year.” You explained shrugging lightly as you looked up at him. “Really? Why not?” He was confused on why someone wouldn’t want a real tree. “Just doesn’t feel right getting a real tree if it’s just me, no point to it.” The effort didn’t seem worth it to you, why bother if no one was going to help with any part of itWalter’s ears flattened as his shoulders visibly dropped hearing what you had to say about getting a real tree. “Oh… there really isn’t a point for me to get a real tree this year either. Just got one every year. I didn't think about not getting one.” His voice held a sad tone as his eyes lowered to the ground, tail long stopped wagging now was tucked between his legs. 

You felt like an asshole when it hit you. This was his first christmas since his divorce, it was most likely his first christmas alone in years if not his first ever one alone. Mentally cursing yourself you raced to think of something to make this all better. “How about I spend Christmas with you? So then you can still get a real tree?” You blurted out with wide panicked eyes. Hearing that his ears perked up as he looked up at you. It was an immediate change in his demeanor, tail wagging much faster as it had been before he stood up taller. “Really? You would spend Christmas with this old fluff ball?” He asked, stepping closer to you. The closeness really putting it in your mind just how much bigger he was than you were. Gulping nervously you nodded your head, mind still reeling from your own actions. Walter swooped you up and spun you around in one fluid motion squeezing you tight. You had only seen him do this with his family before, not once had he ever with you. Stopping he looked down at you with a big smile on his face as his tail wagged a mile a minute. “Um Walter?” You spoke up after an agonizingly long moment like this. He responded with a soft hum as he leaned his snot in closer. The hot air of his breath grazed against your face sending shivers all over your body. “We’re in the middle of the store, remember?” He had seemed to have forgotten this. Lifting his head he looked around seeing there were people giving the two of you strange looks. “Whoops, got a little excited there.” Walter apologized, setting you back down on the ground. His tail hadn’t slowed down one bit. You feared he might form a tornado with how much his tail stirred up the air around him. “Well come on then, let’s go get that tree!” He said, grabbing your hand with his paw. You couldn’t help but stare at your hand intertwined with his paw. When the two of you had first met he had shaken your hand and at the time you noticed in that brief moment how soft his paw pads were. Holding his paw for much longer you really got a good feel of just how soft they were. It wasn’t just soft, no they were squishy too. You wondered if he would let you play with them some time. As your mind wondered about his soft paws your thoughts slowly grew to wonder how they would feel on other parts of your body. Catching yourself before the thoughts grew more impure as they had already gotten you shook your head trying to shoo them away. 

Walter hadn’t noticed this and you were damn glad of it. He just kept pushing the cart around with one paw as he walked much slower than he had before. You were walking slower too, it was the pace you usually had. It took you a moment longer than you would like to admit when it clicked with you that he was walking slower for your sake. Smiling softly to yourself you looked away wanting to put your focus anywhere else than Walter. Making your way into the out door section you shivered feeling an especially harsh gust of wind hit you causing you to brace yourself from the cold. It stung at your eyes making you close them tight. Expecting more wind to hit, you braced yourself again turning a little but stopped when you felt Walters paw leave your hand and wrap around you not a moment later pulling you into his side. “Look at you shivering like a chihuahua. You don’t got no way to keep you warm. Here stay close to me, I'll keep you warm.” Walter said, leaning against you. It was just so warm you couldn’t find the will to fight him on it and just accepted his embrace. Lucky for you, you were able to hide your smile by burying your face in the side of his coat, plus it kept your already freezing nose out of the snow. Walking to the trees with him Walter quietly hummed along to the song currently playing through the store's speakers. You left the tree finding to him. It seemed he knew what he was doing while you were clueless on the matter. It was obvious when he found the right tree as he excitedly moved from one paw to the other. You tried to stifle a laugh at the sight of a werewolf doing tippy tappys.  As much as you didn’t want to pull away from his warmth you knew he wouldn’t be able to drag the tree through the store while pushing the cart and also holding onto you but when you went to move away from him his grip on you tightened pulling you in closer to him. “We can still check out here right?” He called out to the one employee working gardening, they nodded their head yes. “Oh good we’ll check out here and take everything straight to the car.” Walter said, picking the tree up. “Can you come scan this for us?” He asked, holding the tree up. Walter was making things harder for himself, he should let go, why wasn’t he letting go? Looking down at you he smiled softly as he gave you a gentle squeeze. “Step onto the cart I’ll push you around, that way you can still be nice and warm.” Oh… you hadn’t thought about that, could work. Without a word you stepped up onto the cart holding onto the cart's handle bar for support. The moment you felt Walter press his chest against your back you lost every ability to breathe. You didn’t think this through. Being this close to him like this in this position? You're glad it was cold, you could blame your face being so red. 

Standing there on the cart trapped from all sides, oh boy did it make you feel things you shouldn't.

Next few minutes were a blank for you too deep in your ever growing thoughts as Walter checked out all his groceries and paid for it all. You could hear him hum again as he started walking to your car. The parking lot was quite bumpy causing the cart and you in turn to raddle like crazy. That is until Walter pressed his chest against your back stopping your shaking. His muzzle was right next to your ear. You could feel his hot breath on your neck. It sent a flood of dirty thoughts into your mind, a gasp left your lips before you could stop it. You prayed to any god out there that he didn't hear it. If he had he hadn't said anything. 

What he did notice was how your scent had changed, grown more aroused. You realized something was up when he suddenly pressed his nose to your neck and took a deep breath in. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he inhaled your scent. The moment he caught himself doing that he pulled away in a jerking motion. “I um…” He stammered trying to think of an excuse. “I like your body wash. What is it? Daisys?” Walters heart was practically beating out of his chest, you could feel it against your back. “No uh sweat pea actually. Was on sale.” You answered in a quiet voice trying to possess what just happened. “Ah, sales love them.” He mumbled softly.

The rest of the ride home was completely silent. Neither of you baring to speak after that little incident. Pulling into his driveway you put your car in park and quietly gulped. The two of you sat in silence a few minutes more before Walter finally broke the silence. “Want to come in and decorate the tree with me?” He asked, looking at you through the corner of his eye gauging your reaction. Thinking about it you lightly chewed the bottom of your lip. Oh what the hell, what's the worst thing that could happen? “Sure.” Your answer made his tail wagged as he lit up with a bright smile. What could happen? You weren't sure what but you wanted it.

[rukia-writes]

so um hi! sorry to disturb you but can you write nsfw with odin and reader? okay so like reader feels super insecure about their body and looks for a long time then odin notices that and confronts them then ~spicy stuff~ happens. haha i tried making this unique, umm ik commisions take a lot of energy and time so do your best! and thank you for reading

A/N: It’s been awhile since I’ve done this, time to get back in the game.

Warnings: 18+, No Minors 🔞, smut (just a little spicy)

Odin notices everything.

However, something always interested him when he noticed a familiar goddess looking a bit sadder than usual. While it wasn’t his business as the two were essentially allies, Odin wasn’t the most talkative or the most open person in Valhalla but he was kind to the goddess.

Kind enough to catch the goddess looking at herself at a water fountain, Odin had an idea of what it was but he asked,

“What troubles you, (Name)?”

His voice was deep yet it had a tone of concern as it made the goddess jump from not noticing Odin until he spoke. Not to mention, her heart jumping along with as she seemed to always admire Odin from afar.

Stern but handsome.

Even his son was handsome.

Knowing better than to lie as Odin could essentially through a lie with superior intellect, the goddess decided to play it safe and simply mention that she was troubled by her appearance and had been for awhile as she believed she wasn’t as beautiful as the rest of the goddesses in Valhalla.

Odin was wise.

A situation like this needed to be handled carefully and he did so by not consoling her but by lifting her spirits by saying “Outer beauty pales to that of inner beauty and you have both. Be more confident.”

Placing a hand on her left shoulder he also mentioned to come and see him if she ever needed to relax or talk. Mentioning in his soothing and deep voice that he would always be willing to listen.

Just as he left.

Odin was mysterious like that.

Yet, he was always a listening ear and always offered sound advice when asked.

“How do I look?”

Odin found parties to be trivial matters, there was more important matters to attend to than mingling with other gods and goddesses and yet on this night when Zeus wanted to hold a party Odin attended and to his delight he saw a rather shy (Name) in a rather lovely dress.

“You look amazing. The color is nice.”

A small smile crept on (Name) as she knew Odin wasn’t the most talkative but when he spoke it was meaningful and she could tell he was sincere and genuine.

As the night went on Odin could tell (Name) was still feeling a bit insecure about herself just from knowing her as long as he did and so he casually mentioned to her in a quiet manner.

“Have you considered having sex? It’s been proven that sex helps with mental health.”

It was silent between the two for what seemed like forever.

Odin meant no harm by his comment he simply mentioned a remedy he read about a long time ago and once he saw how bashful the goddess before him became Odin wandered what was going thru her mind.

“Perhaps, you could help with that too.”

Well, now he knew and the two found a room that was empty but it wasn’t silent as the two had their private lesson inside.

Odin saved the rough lessons for another day as he didn’t want her to go completely numb with pleasure, there was a party to return to after all.

Once, the two had finished (Name) felt what could only be described as euphoria. Remembering the positions Odin, the All Father, had her in. How wise he was with his choice of words, complimenting her on her body and how he found her to be very attractive.

Sure, she stumbled in her walking here and there thanks to Odin but the pleasure and confidence was worth the trade. The sting to her ass was painful but pleasurable too as Odin just wanted to make sure he got his point across that she was beautiful with a beautiful ass.

Odin knew he could be a great teacher and he intended to get the lesson thru to the sweet goddess that she was beautiful as she was.

Odin wanted to make sure he never forgot how beautiful she was to him and to never forget him and so he mentioned that she was free to visit him anytime as he placed a kiss on her forehead while putting his clothes on.

Of course, (Name)’s hair was a mess, thanks to Odin, but she didn’t seem to care as onlookers noticed as she returned to the party. The only thing on her mind was the leader of the Norse pantheon who so graciously gave her the self confidence she needed and the mind numbing sex she loved.

The next day, (Name) found Odin in his castle in Asgard and had another lesson that evening and that night…

…and the following day.

The day after that and the day after that.

Odin never forgot to tell her how beautiful she was for he truly believed she was beautiful to him and that’s all that matters.

❄️Rukia-Writes❄️

[watchoutforthefanfics]

goodbye for now || Reddie (IT)

AVAILABLE ON AO3 (SOON)

Inspiration: ^^^ this amazing art by @you-are-braver-than-you-think + I love you by Billie Eilish

Summary: Richie was ready to leave Derry. But that doesn't mean he's ready to leave everything in it.

TWs: crying, saying goodbye, angst, hurt/no comfort, the Forgetting (idk what to call it) and mention of the 27 years.

[[A/N: This one fucking hits. So be warned. Enjoy :)) ]]

Richie didn't believe in wanderlust. The whole longing for something bigger, better. Or that, one day, he'd want to leave Derry.

Not because it wasn't a shithole, it definitely fucking was. He knew that ever since that summer when their whole lives were changed (he still stared at the scar on his hand sometimes). Even still, he never in his heart felt like he wanted to leave his friends -they'd been through so much shit that he'd knew they would be there forever. Or at least, he thought they would be.

But then, people started leaving. Promising that they would write, that they would call.

And Richie watched their cars leave -chasing them with his bike the first time, waving so enthusiastically he almost fell off. But as time went by, they disappeared and there was nothing. Nothing from anybody. It changed.

The hugs lasted longer, and he cried a little more. All of them did. Because even though they said they'd call, or even fucking write, it never happened. It was like as soon as they left, Derry was just gone. Richie eventually learned to stop waiting.

Richie Tozier didn't believe in wanderlust when he was ten. But as he got older, colleges were reaching out and the world was at his fingertips, and well, teenage Richie Tozier believed in wanderlust. Magazines of monuments and letters from colleges, he wanted to fucking go.

Derry felt like a cage, and Richie was ready to open the door.

But it wasn't that easy.

Not as he stared at the acceptance letter from the University of California Los Angeles. Not as he saved up for an apartment with his shitty icecream parlor job (his parents wanted to help him, but they wanted him to earn it too) wage. Not as he got fucking excited about the idea of making more of himself than dirty bathroom walls (and a carving on the kissing bridge).

And especially not as he looked into the eyes of Eddie Kaspbrak and told him that this was his last summer in Derry.

"What?"

"Eds," he was laughing, but it felt like his heart was ripped open, "-I got accepted into UCLA a couple of months before we graduated. And I'm... starting in the fall."

"What?" Eddie repeated, and he watched his face twist into something Richie fucking hated (hurt), "-Why the fuck didn't you tell me that shit?"

"I didn't want to make this any worse," Richie answered honestly.

"Richie, it's fucking June," Eddie retorted, something deep and heavy in his words, "-and you're leaving in like two months and you didn't fucking tell me?"

Richie had debated it for a long time. But as he watched Eddie live out his senior year, the most free he's ever been, the decision was easy. He wouldn't ruin it for him, and, selfishly, didn't want to ruin it for himself. Make everything sadder than it already fucking was (with 3 missing faces and no contact to show for it). Because he just... god, he wanted this with Eddie. He just wanted to feel fucking happy with Eddie-

And that was a whole other thing. Richie had realized just what exactly Eddie was to him when he was 11 years old and he carved into that fucking bridge. He knew what it was, and what that meant he was. He knew that. And maybe that's why wanted to go to California. And maybe, he just wanted to remember that shit with him happily. Just in case-

"I know, Eds," he breathed out, feet dangling off the Quarry cliff -his shitty car parked just off the road, "-I'm so fucking sorry. But I wasn't going to fuck up our last year."

"It's not like we're fucking dying, idiot," Eddie retorted.

But it kinda was.

Richie knew that he'd fucking call Eddie, or even write him, whatever the fuck he wanted. He knew, if he could help it, he'd talk to him every fucking day, see him every summer, but shit... shit didn't work out that way. Everyone else said the same things, and now... now there were only 3.

Richie hadn't heard from Bev in years. Fuck, Stanley (his best friend before the Losers even existed) hadn't even called him once.

But he hoped to fucking god that wouldn't be him.

"No, we aren't fucking dying, but-" Richie relented, but it felt like a lie, "-our lives are changing. There's no going back to high school, where we're fucking together all the time."

"No, Richie," Eddie's face was pushed into a flat line, "-your life is changing. I'm gonna fucking... rot here in this shithole, by myself-"

"Eds, I told you-"

"I know what you said," Eddie sighed, turning out to the water -Richie wanted him to look at him, "-It's just not fucking happening. You know that. Ma is never-"

"You'll get away from her, Eds," Richie interrupted, "-You can't let her control you forever."

Eddie wrung his hands together and didn't look at him. Richie felt like throwing up, he just knew it would end up this way. He really didn't want to fucking leave Eddie.

They talked about Eddie coming too, running away. But then, his Mom got sick. And well, Eddie would hate himself if he left her -helpless. And Richie spent nearly every day trying to convince him differently, it hurt in his fucking chest when Eddie refused. Every time.

But he needed to fucking leave-

"I can't do that shit without you," Eddie leveled, looking at him, "-I can't... I can't stand up to her without you."

"Yes, you fucking can," Richie argued, shoving into his arm, "-You're brave as shit, Eddie. We fought a demon clown before hitting fucking puberty-"

"I did that with you guys!" Eddie burst, frustrated and Richie might've seen tears in his eyes, "-I did it with everyone. I'm not... Fuck, I can't do it alone. I don't wanna be alone."

Richie frowned, gnawing at his lips, "You're not alone, Eds. You'll never be fucking alone as long as I'm alive-"

Eddie was just staring at him, big brown eyes dusted with tears. Richie felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest, it just fucking hurt-

"-Eddie, even if I... even if I don't do anything like call or write letters, I'm still here for you-"

"Don't-" Eddie frowned, "-Don't say that shit."

"-Eddie, no, you need to hear this-" Richie leveled, putting his hands on his shoulders, "-If I don't talk to you, it's not up to me. I don't... I don't know why it's happening. But I swear to fucking god, I would come back to you, or at least fucking talk to you, okay?"

Eddie was crying now, wiping at his eyes like he was much younger (Richie flashed back a moment), "Yeah, okay."

The summer was, as expected, bittersweet. Richie knew it would be, but he kept it light-hearted or tried to with everyone not just Eddie. But still, it was heavy. In the clubhouse, which was so hard to be in now, there was something in the air. It sucked, but it was gonna happen. He knew it was gonna happen. So, he tried to make it the best summer of his life, of all of their lives.

He thinks it worked. He thinks he had a good impact. He thinks they'll remember this, or he'll try his fucking hardest to.

And then, it was August.

Richie had been packing up since late July, and Eddie made himself comfortable helping. ("You need to be fucking organized so you know where your shit is, asshole.") And Richie let him. He was pretty sure he'd let Eddie Kaspbrak do anything, honestly. So, he'd labeled boxes and argued why he "shouldn't take fucking everything you own, Richie", and danced around just what was happening. They didn't talk about that conversation over the summer, they didn't even touch the fact that he was leaving -not even over his packed fucking boxes.

Eddie just didn't seem to want to touch it, and Richie honestly didn't either. This felt normal, the bickering, even though the reason they were doing it all hung over everything like a fucking storm cloud. They still acted normal, like Richie wasn't leaving, like he was gonna stay right there. They were gonna stay. Together.

He wanted that so bad it burned, but Richie fucking needed out. It was time.

And then, it was the day.

Richie was silently packing up the last box, and taping it shut. And Eddie scribbled on the front with his insanely perfect handwriting -comics.

It was quiet, too quiet. Eddie was still crouched down, staring at the box, the words. And Richie was staring at him. Unabashedly. He thinks he should be allowed to now. And the thought crossed his mind of finally telling him, bubbled along his skin. As he watched Eddie's eyes trace the letters for the 10th time, it felt like it was on the tip of his tongue.

Richie cleared his throat -voice a little scratchy, turning toward his old bed (grabbing something under the mattress), an extra comic. A special one.

Wordlessly, Richie extended it forward.

Eddie eyed him for a second, standing up -glance landing on the comic.

"Are you fucking serious?" Eddie hissed out, "-You forgot one? You're such a-"

"Eds," Richie leveled -seriously, extending it forward -shaking it a little.

Eddie's lips snapped shut, and his eyes dropped from Richie's to the comic in his hand.

It was one they used to fight over when they were younger. He remembered particularly being on the hammock, Eddie's head on his shoulder (cussing him out when he moved too fast, but doing the very same when he moved too slow), and peeking glances when he was focused on reading. Because he was Eddie, and Richie felt a lot then. Still does, but he knows what it is now.

Eddie raised a hand, hesitantly, and pulled the book into his hands. Naturally, he started flipping through it -red pen sticking out on the page.

"I wrote notes," Richie pointed awkwardly, "-like um, like commentary. So..."

Eddie was silent, flipping through the pages -not looking up. Richie just kept talking.

"-So, it was like I was still here. Saying stupid shit."

Eddie laughed a little, something caught up in his throat. He swallowed once, heavily, eyes blinking a little too fast.

Fuck, don't cry, Eds. If you cry, I don't know if I can fucking leave.

"If you talk about fucking my Mom, I'm burning it."

Richie laughed, something heavy on your shoulders, "Well, you better get the fucking matches, Eds."

Eddie laughed a little more, finally looking up at him. The laugh faded, his smile slipping, and his eyes were the same big ass brown ones, but now they were teary. And he was just staring at him, his face falling further each second that passed. Richie felt like he was ripping out his heart and leaving it here with Eddie. It hurt so fucking bad-

And then, before Richie could even blink, Eddie was in his arms -face shoved into his shoulder.

Richie's eyes were watery now, his chest aching, and he wrapped his arms around him, unhesitatingly. He could feel Eddie's shaky breaths against him, wracking through his lungs. And Richie pulled him tighter, pressing the side of his face into Eddie's. God, he never wanted to forget him, please don't let me fucking forget him-

"Promise you'll write?" Eddie breathed out, heavy breaths against his shoulder.

And even though, they'd talked about the outcomes and the fact that, if he didn't, it wasn't up to him, something was happening. Richie still answered the same.

Squeezing him a little tighter, he whispered -maybe through bleary tears, "I promise."

They stayed like that for a while, and Richie felt it on the tip of his tongue. It almost came out with every breath.

Eddie, I love you. I think I've loved you my whole life.

It didn't come out.

Not as he and his Dad and Eddie packed all his boxes into his shitty ass car's trunk. Not as they forced his trunk closed. Not as Eddie angrily told him to take the necessary stops, don't skip meals, and stay hydrated ("Don't fall asleep on the road, dipshit."). Not as his Dad grabbed his gas can and filled Richie's tank. Not as his Mom hugged him, crying. Not as his Dad patted his shoulder and told him to "Take on the world, son". Not as he, Ben, Mike, and Eddie crowded together into a hug so tight that it hurt. Not as Eddie threw himself into Richie again (on his own), all angry edges and sharp pointy elbows ("Promise?" "Promise."). Not as he pulled himself into the driver's seat, aching like he had ripped off a limb. Not as he stared into the rearview mirror, watching as his friends waved and Eddie stared -waving so desolately that it was like he was going to war. Not even as he pulled out of Derry, and Eddie followed the car as far as he could (Ben and Mike pulling him back). Not as the trees flew by his windows, and his eyes teared up -road blurry and sobs wracking through his chest.

But as he got further along, it lessened. He stopped feeling so heavy, wondering why he felt that way before anyway. The towns passed by and he got out, hitting tourist spots (taking pictures and not being sure who to send them to). And then, he was in California, and everything felt fresh.

Pulling up to his apartment building, he trucked up the stairs over and over -boxes piling up in the empty room. When it was all inside, Richie laid down on the floor -letting a big breath out of his lungs. And then, he moved on autopilot.

Digging into his boxes, he found a piece of paper and pencil, pulled a box toward him, and set it down -throwing the pencil to the paper.

Richie blinked once.

He was supposed to write something, he felt it in his bones but he couldn't remember what, or maybe who to write to. But he was fucking supposed to, it was so... visceral.

Richie felt so... He felt something he'd never felt before, an ache in his bones. And just as everything seemed so happy, there was something nagging at him-

He scribbled along the paper, just what he felt (no header, no name).

I think I loved you.

Shaking his head once, Richie blinked and grabbed the paper, crumpling it up, and throwing it into a corner (the apartment really was fucking empty). This feeling would go away. If it mattered, he'd know.

And then, a year went by.

Eddie Kaspbrak arrived in New York, unpacking as soon as he got into his apartment. Digging through his boxes, his fingers dusted along some paper, maybe a magazine. Why the hell did I pack a magazine?

He pulled it out and eyed it for a second.

An old comic book. His eyes flicked along a red pen on the front, Return to Richie Tozier. Eddie pulled it open, skimming over the pages -hinging on red marks. They were shitty jokes, he noted.

Did I get this from some fucking second-hand store? Why? It's fucking ruined.

Eddie shut it and stared at the name again. Richie Tozier. He wondered for a second who he was, like a lot of people did with original owners of their shit, and felt something nagging in his mind. Richie Tozier, he repeated.

Nothing.

He pressed his lips together and although he didn't know shit about it (or why he fucking had it), he carefully placed it onto a table -away from anything else. He'd look at it later, maybe figure out why he kept it.

It ended up forgotten, slid into a bookshelf.

None of it would make sense. Not until 2 phone calls, 2 trips, and the hitting of a gong.

Then... Then, it would make a lot of fucking sense.

[turvi]

Promises-2

For the first time in months, Y/n was somehow able to get a fully rested sleep. Severus had a spare room for her that he used to store ingredients and utensils for his potions. The room had a small library filled stacked with books from up to bottom and one small bed that was lit by moonlight.

Despite all the things Severus had stuffed in this room it still had enough space to move around. Severus quickly dusted the bed despite it looking quite clean. It looked like Severus used this room for his restless nights in the company of his favourite books with the moon overlooking him.

"This room can feel stuffy so feel free to open the window" he suggested now standing there fiddling his fingers. Before Y/n could say another word he interrupted

"If you need anything feel free to ask me I am up anyways"

Y/n nodded and Severus was out of the room in no time letting Y/n settle down in the new environment. Y/n reminisced about the last time she met Severus and how has not changed a bit, if anything his eyes looks softer than before, kinder, sadder.

She got up from the comforts of his bed, his smell so present it felt like he was there but the cold sheets said otherwise. She thought of making breakfast, it was the least she could do. She had to make herself busy it was the only way to keep her mind from spiraling into dark thoughts.

As she carefully walked down the stairs she saw Severus up and working on a potion on his makeshift table in his room. Guilt filled her heart. She felt like she was taking advantage of Severus while he was just happy with the organically grown ingredients he was using.

She went to the kitchen and saw dishes piled up in the sink. She went ahead and tried to wash them as quietly as she could. Soon she knew shy everyone called Severus a dungeon bat as he sneaked up on her and almost scared her to death.

"I'm sorry Severus I disturbed you" she gasped trying to calm her heartbeat.

"No, you didn't but why are you washing the dishes Y/n"

"You helped me Severus it is only right I help you too"

He sighed and pinched his nose bridge. He thought why can't everyone be just like him. What is the point of being so nice?

"Go sit down I'll make breakfast for you"

"You will not eat?"

"I am already late for school Merlin knows Potter and his little army will make my day hard" he complains to you. He would be lying if he said he didn't like that someone was listening to his complaints. On most days he wished the walls had ears.

"Potter that name sounds familiar"

"Yes he is the son of James and Lily Potter, great people" he snarled

"Really? Oh how lovely" you said thinking he actually meant that

Severus stared into the void questioning his existence. He really asked Merlin today how come he gets to meet such people but then again he never saw you at Hogwarts, he didn't know who you were you were just there.

"Would you mind if I ask you a question?" He asked plating her breakfast. He placed the plate in front of her and sat across from her. It felt weird having company. This felt very intimate yet Severus tried to focus on the question.

"You can" you replied with a sweet smile. Severus never saw you smile. He is glad he did now.

"I never saw you at Hogwarts yet you are somehow connected to its happenings how?"

You took a deep breath. You know you had to tell him. There is no point in hiding it. The man gave you shelter when you needed it the most no question asked. You looked up to see he was waiting patiently.

"I perform ....black magic, my mother taught me, she used it to cure people and it is one of the things that remind me of her. One day a man came by my place. He was pale and very sickly. He told how no healer had been able to heal him. So he was under my shelter until he was back on his feet." You looked back to find Severus still listening to you his finger fidgeting. "He told me his name was Tom Riddle. He was impressed by my skills and told me a powerful witch like me had been using her powers incorrectly," she said wiping away the stray tear that fell down her cheek.

"One stormy night he came back, he killed my mother. He told me I had to be on his side and make him victorious. He tortured me every night since that night and made me use black magic for the wrong purposes." Severus panicked when she started sobbing, he hesitantly held her hand which felt warm against his cold palms.

"I am sorry I didn't mean to hurt you, I just needed to understand your situation"

"It's alright Severus you don't need to apologize I can understand it is just too much and I am scared for the first time in months I felt fully rested last night, usually woken up by a nightmare or just couldn't fall asleep because news got out that the Dark Lord is returning." her voice broke.

Severus looked at the time and now the professors will start asking him questions, but he couldn't leave you like this.

"Would you like to come to Hogwarts? You can sit in the library, we have some creatures I can ask Hagrid to let you meet them, you can sit in my office albeit it can get boring." Severus never thought he would ever get to brag about Hogwarts but he knew you were hurting and thought about things that helped him distract from his harsh reality.

"You wouldn't mind that?" your voice was low and Severus was thankful it was usually quiet in his house.

"Not at all, you can get some sunlight, and meet others, especially Minerva," he added awkwardly he just hoped you were comfortable

"Thank you for being nice to me Severus"

"No Y/n I have to thank you, well now I know how you were able to heal my wounds so quickly, but you wiped my tears and reminded me that I have some good left in me, that I am not the monster everyone thought I was." his breath hitched when you got closer to him not breaking eye contact. Your eyes looked so beautiful under the sunlight Severus thought.

When you touched his arm he flinched but quickly calmed "You are a great man Severus I know it because you regret the mistakes you made and you are willing to correct them"

He nodded and looked away from your eyes "I... uh we need to leave now"

"Sure I will get ready quickly" with that you took the last bite of your breakfast and beelined towards your room. Severus watched you retreat, he wishes he doesn't get attached to you, that won't go well

A/N: REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK IF YOU ENJOYED THIS. TAKE CARE.

[restinslices]

I would love to request a fic of Ares x fem reader please? Maybe based of your post of being Ares favorite mortal lover and defending her or whatever idea you may have?

I think you and someone else requested this so COME GET YA’LL JUICE.

I made this sadder than it needed to be but it’s an illness at this point. Warning for a down bad Ares. Like, OOC type of down bad

Gods are typically very predictable when it comes to love.

It's usually temporary love and honestly a mortal is lucky if it lasts more than a month. They get together, have a baby then the god moves on before the baby is even born. It sounds heartless because it is, but that's just how it was when you were immortal. You got bored very quickly and chasing after mortals gave you something to do when life got too quiet.

That's what typically happens.

Sometimes though, the gods find very special mortals.

For Hermes, it was May. For Poseidon, it was Sally. For Ares, it was you.

Ares constantly watched over you and your child, even if you never knew. He couldn't be with you and he knew this, but that didn't mean he couldn't make sure you were ok and help out occasionally. Sometimes it'd be something as small as leaving you gifts to cheer you up, and sometimes it'd be something as big as delivering “bad luck” to your boss when he was being rude.

So imagine how upset he got when he watched your new partner continue to mistreat you.

Zeus made himself very clear.

Absolutely DO NOT commit any acts of violence against a particular mortal named Trent.

Ares thought about listening. Then Ares thought about the fact that he was willing to allow a war to happen between Zeus, Hades and Poseidon and he decided that since he's done a lot worse, a few felonies wouldn't be so bad in the grand scheme of things.

~~

The arguing made Ares pause before he could knock.

He heard your voice. “In my bed Trent?! Are you serious?!”.

The male groaned in annoyance, “If you can't accept that relationships have hiccups then maybe you don't actually care for me! I'll leave you alone right now if that's what you want! It's just fuck me, right?! After all I do?!”.

“What do you do?!”.

“I told you I had demons I was fighting!”

“Is the demon monogamy?”

He huffed and he swung the door open while going on and on about the so called demons he was fighting that you wouldn't understand, and if Ares had Hades powers, he'd send him some actual demons to worry about.

His eyes landed on Ares, “who are you?”.

You came into view right behind Trent and your eyes widened.

It was strange. Ares hardly paid attention to little details when it came to someone's appearance. After a while his eyes skimmed over people, and even if a mortal managed to catch his attention, he usually forgot what they looked like before the week ended. You were different though and if this is what Poseidon and Hermes felt then he understood why it was so hard for them to let their mortals go.

He wasn't necessarily an artistic guy but he could pick out the specific shade of your eyes, even if it was the most basic eye color. He memorized the shape of your hair and its color. He memorized certain mannerisms or habits you had, no matter how small. If someone blindfolded him, he was sure he'd still be able to find you just by hearing your laughter. He'd pat the area around him as he walk towards you and once he felt your hand in his, he'd know he was home. And sure, there was a mortal out there that had the same texture on their fingertips but he didn't care about them. He cared about you and even if you thought you weren't special, he would strongly disagree. Mortals didn't stay in his mind. You did. That meant something.

But Trent didn't seem to understand how special you were. He didn't understand that you were doing him a service just by standing near him and it made him angrier than he expected.

“This is Ares”, you said. It was embarrassing for him to admit how much he loved how his name sounded on your tongue, so he never admitted it. At least not out loud.

“Like the Zodiac Aries?”. He was going to correct him and make several snarky comments but you spoke before him.

“A-R-E-S. Ares. Like the God of War. Spirit of Battle. Mars for the Romans” you explained and the smirk that formed on his face further proved how down bad he was for you. The shit was embarrassing.

“I'm the father of her child” Ares added and Trent did not look pleased. He looked back and forth between the two of you and scoffed.

“You've been cheating on me, haven't you?”. He didn't even give you a chance to respond. “You're on my ass about what I did but you've already been whoring around. Just like I fucking thought”

“My kid is eight” you said simply. Ares hated that although you kept stepping back, he kept moving towards you. His shoulders were tall and proud, like he was trying to intimidate you into admitting something that wasn't true.

“I bet you're still sleeping with him or any other man that looks at you! I should've known better than to dedicate myself to a single mother. You're all just cheap sl-” his sentence was stopped abruptly when Ares grabbed onto his shoulder. At first Ares didn't realize how hard he was squeezing his shoulder, but once he noticed the sounds coming out of his mouth and saw his pathetic attempts to pry his hand off of him, Ares squeezed harder.

“She missed a very crucial part” his hand squeezed harder still and he pushed down, making the man hit his knees on the ground hard. “Ares, God of War. Spirit of Battle. Protector of Mistreated Women”, he glanced at you then looked back down at the man clenching his shoulder under him. “Have you been mistreating this woman?”.

Trent looked at you but all that did was fuel Ares’ with more rage. The nerve to treat you so cruelly for months then look to you for help. He yanked his shoulder towards him, earning a shout from him. “Don't look at her. Look at me”.

You placed your hand over his, “let him go”. You spoke softly as if you cared for this speck of dirt that probably wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire. Why? Why do this for him when there are millions of other men out there you could be with? Men that would treat you 100x better than Trent had. Men that would shower you with the praises you deserve and stand by you loyally and ask about your day and do whatever other bullshit mortals do that Ares would do with you if he weren't a god.

Trent had you but he didn't deserve you. Area didn't have you but he deserved you. The idea of Ares deserving something instead of just being given it was strange and foreign and even though gods couldn't get headaches, this is the closest he's felt to it.

“Let him go” you repeated slowly.

“I should get somewhere high before I do”.

“Hilarious” you said, although he wasn't joking. “You're gonna hurt him”. That was the plan. “I'm being serious, Ares. Let him go”.

“And then?”

“Then you leave”. But he stays? You were willing to let this man get away with all he's done within your months of dating and shoo the father of your child away?

“I should kill him anyway. He knows too much”.

He was right. Mortals that didn't have demigods weren't supposed to know about the gods existence, so technically killing him wouldn't be completely out of left field. Technically he somewhat had the right to. That's what his deluded mind was telling him anyway. And even if the man on his knees didn't know what he did now, he still deserved a form of punishment.

Your minds seemed to be linked, because you shook your head at him, like you were telling him “no. Don't do that”. You crouched down in front of Trent who was still desperately trying to free his shoulder. “You want him to let go don't you?”

“Well obviously!”. Ares didn't like the attitude and he was going to push down hard enough to dislocate his shoulder, but you put your hand back on top of his and shook your head again.

“He will. First you have to swear to something. Make an oath. Swear that you'll never come back here. Swear that you'll never talk to me again and you'll never mistreat another woman again. Swear on the River Styx. If you break this oath, something terrible will happen. Won't it Ares?”. You looked up at him, expecting an answer. Ares didn't know the answer though. He knew what happened to gods and demigods but regular average civilians? He assumed it was something bad, but he didn't know how bad. Since he didn't have a solid answer, he just voiced what he wanted to do.

“If you break your oath, I'll find you. I'll tear your legs off so you can't run, then your arms so you can't crawl away. I'll give you medical attention so you don't die and I'll make your pathetic form into a punching bag for when I get bored and trust me, I get bored often”. Ares couldn't see how he looked but he knew he looked scary enough by the way the guy shuddered and looked away from him. He even started to cry, which Ares found ridiculous. He wasn't crying earlier. He was on top of the world thinking punishment wouldn't come and even now he wouldn't truly be punished.

The guy repeated everything you said in between disgusting sobs. He swore on the River Styx and Ares was sure he didn't even know what that truly meant. He just wanted to be let go. Ares didn't want to let go but after some more coaxing from you, he let go reluctantly. Trent ran out the house, still sobbing and holding onto his shoulder.

“Thanks for that” you said when you rose back to your feet, but it didn't sound like an actual thank you. You sounded annoyed. “He'll squeal but no one will believe him about being attacked by a god. He'll drive himself crazy or get himself sent somewhere. He'll always check for you behind him. Is that enough punishment for you?”. Ares wanted some sort of physical punishment right then and there, but he'd either deal with him when you weren't looking or decide this will do. Depended on his mood later on.

“Why'd you do that? Now he won't come back!”

“You made him swear never to come back”, but you didn't seem to like him pointing out that fact. You rolled your eyes,

“Yeah, because I knew you'd break him next time you saw him”. Good point, but why did you still want him around?

“You deserve better”

“And what's better? Someone like you? Someone who pops in from time to time? Someone our child hardly knows? If that's what I deserve, well… I guess I must not deserve much. Maybe I did something wrong in a past life”. Your words cut deep. They cut deep because you had a point. Ares put you in a terrible situation. A lonely one. He made you a single mother and although he didn't talk to mortals often, he was still able to pick up on how mortals felt about single mothers. The unnecessary shame that came with having a child but with no father, even if it wasn't their fault. A large chunk of the mistreated women he protected were single mothers themselves. There was an unnecessary amount of shame thrown onto their shoulders. They could've left a terribly abusive relationship, but all of it was still their fault. They were questioned why they couldn't just stick it out, because surely a child with no father was worse than a child with an abusive father who could “get better” if they just “stopped making problems”. He hated it. Now it was hitting him that he helped place this shame on your shoulders. He never said anything but he still decided to have a child with you even though he knew he'd never be able to stay. He wanted to say he made a mistake, but could it really be a mistake if it all meant he had you in his life even if it was only for fleeting moments?

“You don't need him” he got out finally but you had a counter.

“I need someone. I need someone here. I-I… listen I know Trent can be a handful but it's better to have a handful than nothing at all. You have no idea how lonely it gets and even with him it's still lonely because I can't talk to him about any of this stuff. Do you know how exhausting it is moving a child from school to school? Some schools won't even take her! Says she has disciplinary issues and I should do home schooling but how is that possible if I have to work so we don't end up on the streets?!” your voice got louder and if this was anyone else he'd make them apologize for raising their voice at a god. He didn't interrupt you though. Each word was like twisting a knife inside him and he figured that you should be able to decide when to pull it out.

“Other moms don't want their children anywhere near ours. They think she'll be a bad influence. Some of them aren't bold enough to say it, but I can tell what they're thinking! They treat her like some terrible disease their children will catch and I can't explain why she is the way she is! I can't say 'oh well her dad is a god and the monsters she draws are things she's seeing on the street and you can't see it but honestly she's in more danger than you’. I have to say 'they're just pictures. She's just creative!’ ” You began pacing and rubbing your hands together. “I'm alone and sometimes I don't wanna be alone. Having another adult here keeps the walls from closing in. Ugh. What type of mother am I? I can't explain any of this to my child and I can tell how alone she feels too. I think… I think I'm her only friend. She hears what people say about her. She thinks something is wrong with her. She thinks she's a burden. What eight year old thinks like this?”, You sat on the couch and put your head in your hands. “I'm a failure…”.

“Sad” wasn't the word Ares would use to describe how he felt. Maybe not even “sorrowful”. There had to be a better word to explain how he ached watching you fall apart. Ares wasn't good at personal talks, but he sat beside you and spoke

“You are not a failure”. It was simple, but he hoped it worked anyway.

You looked over at him with an expression he knew would be imprinted into his mind for eternity. “Then what am I?”.

He could go on and on about what you were and how much you meant, but he knew he didn't have much time. Zeus probably already knew he was here. He was nosey like that and he'd do anything to make sure everyone followed his lead. He wished he could tear him apart but Ares knew better than to voice any of the malicious thoughts he had or to try and harm him. Maybe a time would come, but it wasn't now.

“You're doing your best with the heavy burden I put on you”

“She's not a burden” you said quickly. “I'm just not sure what to do anymore. Everything I do seems like the wrong choice”. Ares wanted to approach a topic you seemed to despise but either he was predictable or that mind link was a real thing because next you said “No”.

“That camp-”

“Your family will mold her into what they want her to be and respectfully your family… uhh…” he got it. The gods didn't take kindly to insults and he wouldn't be surprised if you finished your sentence and then was magically turned into a pig.

“She needs to be a warrior. Camp will attempt to make her a warrior”. You didn't seem pleased.

He hated your stubbornness. He didn't watch other demigods as much, but even he knew their mortal mother's tended to die because of their own stubbornness. They'd refuse to send them to camp and when their child realized who they were and the monsters came running… well… there was a good chance everyday struggles wouldn't be a problem anymore.

“She'll realize at some point and you can't protect her”.

“I know” you admitted. The defeat was all over your face and in the heavy breath you took. You laid your head on his arm and intertwined your fingers together. “She's gone for tonight. She's staying with my mother down the street. She's the only one that takes her in sometimes. Can you stay over tonight?”.

“What are you suggesting?”

“You're the furthest thing from funny. I'm not having one of your kids again, are you insane?”. Although you said he wasn't funny, and he wasn't joking in the slightest, you both managed to laugh.

“Seriously, can you stay?”. The sky was clear and sunny but thunder rumbled.

If Ares was granted three wishes from a genie, he'd use all of them to watch Zeus die a horrible miserable death over and over again. What harm would one night do?

Well… a demigod could come out of one night but if Zeus didn't like it, he didn't have to watch.

He knew that argument wouldn't work and he didn't have to speak for you to know the answer. You scooted away from him and you took a sudden interest in the floor.

“I would if I could-”

“I know. I understand”. Another thing he hated about you. You were too understanding. He wanted you to scream at him. He wanted you to scream about how much you hated him and how he ruined you. He wanted you to swear at him and tell him to never step foot near you again. Anything that would make separating easier.

“Ares” you spoke, breaking the silence that filled the room. “If I agree to having her sent to camp, will you watch over her? Can you send one of those- what were they again? Oh! Satyrs. Can you send one of those and make sure they both get to camp safely?”

He didn't have to think. “Yes”.

“And claim her. Maybe not too soon though. I remember when I went to camp people got jealous when their parents would send them letters. I know my camp wasn't a god camp but you know what I mean. I just don't want her to catch unwanted attention”.

“Of course”

“Oh and one more thing. I know I'm asking for a lot but can you give me to the end of the school year. I don't know if she'll want to come back home or if it'll even be safe and-”

“You want time”. You didn't respond but he knew the answer. He knew how hard letting go would be for you and the thought that meeting you was a mistake crossed his mind again. You deserved to have a regular family and a regular husband that you had regular conversations with. Not this.

Thunder rumbled again.

“You have to go” you didn't sound like you wanted him to leave and he didn't want to leave either but he knew he had no choice. He stood up,

“I'll see you again. I promise”

“You've made enough promises, you don't have to do that. You can…” the words seemed like they burned to get out, “you can move on”.

He wanted to argue and say that he'd never truly move on from you. That you were the most memorable mortal he'd been with and he had no plans on leaving you be, but then he realized how selfish that was. Damming you to a life of sitting and waiting until he had time to see you. The thought of you sitting home alone waiting for any sign of him, signs that he wouldn't be able to give as often as you needed made him feel an immense amount of guilt.

“You make me an oath” he started, “I don't know what happens when mortals break an oath they make on the River Styx, so swear on anything that's important to you that you'll find a guy who deserves and appreciates you. Not another guy like before. Not some guy to fill in the empty space in here. I mean a man who will treat you right until you become just a memory”. Knowing he'd never be that man filled him with a burning sensation he couldn't quite explain. Some people would say “I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy” but Ares wasn't like that. He'd only wish this on his worst enemies. Not someone he got into an argument with, or someone he didn't like. Only the enemies that made him spit when he heard their name.

“I swear on our daughter” was all you said and it was all he needed to hear. He didn't give you a kiss or hug you goodbye. It'd make it too hard to leave. He just left. He closed the door behind him like nothing had happened and left you behind.

There was a small part of him that selfishly wanted you to break that oath because that'd mean he'd get to see you again, even if it was only to commit violence. The bigger part of him knew that was selfish. You needed to keep true to that oath, even if it would destroy him to watch you call someone else the love of your life eventually.

This could’ve been a heeheehaha jokey thing but I’m an asshole so here we are. I hope it’s clear that I write requests in the order I get them btw. This isn’t towards the anon, I’m just saying to everyone if a request is taking a hot minute I’m either ill, busy, or working on one that came before yours. I also try to do one requests a day to keep things spread out. Posting all the requests on one day will upset me and my homegirls.

[chronicowboy]

tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) | 43k

"Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin.

"Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug."

Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. Happy eyes bright and blue, pink lips stretched wide in a beaming smile, cheeks flushed pink with joy, hair carefully styled and stunningly golden in the morning sunlight. He's half-dressed too, tux jacket still on the hanger on the back of the chair, so Eddie gets an unbarred view of Buck's white shirt stretched taut over his biceps, shoulders, abs.

For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle if he'd just been brave enough to—

"I think he meant you, kid," Eddie teases as he drops their suits to the couch. He widens his stance, so Jee can run through his legs and evade another of Chimney's grab attempts, then he ruffles Christopher's curls as a steadying act before he's suddenly in front of Buck. And he tries not to think about the pathway cleared through the living room by Jee's chase, or the fact that they're under the archway between the kitchen and the dining table, or the knowledge that Bobby is an ordained officiant where he stands behind them. "Hey, Buck," he says softly, smiling genuinely now because this is Buck.

"Hey, Eds," Buck murmurs back, and it's the first time since they'd promised to have each other's backs that Eddie can't quite decipher the emotions making Buck's voice thick.

Eddie wraps him in a hug then, careful and detached as he can manage, but it's Buck in his arms, warm and alive and his for just a few more hours. He doesn't let himself hold Buck's hips like he used to before—before he'd realised why he'd wanted to hold Buck's hips so tightly—just splays his fingers over Buck's back and tries to focus on the soft cotton under his palms rather than the way Buck's temple rests so perfectly against his. Eddie stays there, for too long probably, fingers digging in too tight possibly, and squeezes his eyes shut when they start to water. He's clinging, and he tries not to think about how it feels a little like Buck is clinging to him too.

"Ah," Eddie huffs as he pulls away, taking two steps back just to be safe. He catches Maddie's eyes on him then, sadder than they should be for the happy tears she'd been crying just before he'd got here, and Eddie wonders if her big sister omniscience is working on him too. "Come on, Buckley. Got to make an honest man out of you sooner rather than later."

"Whilst we're on the topic," Chim intervenes, a wriggly Jee on his hips with two shoes on—finally. "Are we sure he should be wearing white?"

(OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)

@butchdiaz @danielsousa @shitouttabuck @alyxmastershipper @diazass @911-on-abc @folk-fae @stagefoureddiediaz @jeeyuns @piningeddiediaz @robsumagpie @athenagranted @prince-buck-diaz @eddiediaztho @carryingbears @ladydorian05 @made-ofmemories @sherlockcrossing @violet-rot @binickmiller @rainbow-nerdss @thatnamewill-probably-change @ducksbellorum @organizedstardust @mangacat201 @faggotjoness @sibylsleaves @kaseysgirl86-blog @daughter-of-winterfell @thisyearsloveisnow @goodiecornbread @wordsofdiana @thehumongouskargomice @xandromedan @acebuddie @girlnamedjesse @pirrusstuff @angstydiaz @haradrimculture @pinky-promisesss @starlingbite @dontneedmyheart @spaceprincessem @shortsighted-owl @buck2eddie @diazly

[onas-batlle]

The Westie Way

pairing: lucy bronze x ona batlle

warnings: none, or tooth rotting fluff

synopsis: Narla watches her mum fall in love again.

a/n: one shot from narla’s pov and tbh i have no idea where this came from but i hope everyone enjoys it lol

Ao3 Link

———

Something was different. That much was obvious. Even in her small doggy mind which was primarily occupied with rocks and treats and sticks, Narla could tell that something wasn’t quite right with her mums.

She was used to them not being together all the time as she had lived in this funny little country where people spoke with harsh tones and always seemed to need to wee, and Keira was not there for the majority of the time, but this felt different. They felt different.

They didn’t talk to each other very much, not like they used to, and often those conversations were louder and less pleasant than those in the past. The three of them hadn’t cuddled together in several weeks either, and Narla now had to choose which room she wanted to sleep in. Usually, she had opted for whoever looked sadder.

And then they moved to Barcelona. Lucy went first and Narla went with her, but this time when Keira followed, she got her own house. Now they spent no time together - the only brief moments they were a trio again was when Lucy handed Narla over to Keira to look after her for a short while.

But despite the odd things that were happening with her mums, Narla liked Barcelona. It was warm, had beaches, friendly people, and nice rocks. It did a great deal to cheer up both of her mums, and Narla supposed that was the only thing she could ever really hope for.

It was a few months after the move to Spain when the Westie started to notice that Lucy seemed happier, brighter even. Previously she had wandered around with a slouch and a permanent worry line between her brows, but nowadays she walked with a pep in her step and was constantly grinning.

And she was also attached to that strange black box that she carried everywhere. It had weird lights and made loud sounds, and often Lucy would shove it into Narla’s face before showing her a mini version of herself which was mildly terrifying. More often than not, Narla would saunter into Lucy’s bedroom and find her owner tucked under the covers with that glowing box in her hand and smiling giddily, fingers tap tapping at the screen.

Narla wasn’t sure what had changed her mum’s demeanour so much, but she much preferred this oddly joyful Lucy to the mopey one that had existed only months ago.

She didn’t have to wait long to find out the cause, however, as it only took a few weeks before the English woman was curling up on her bed with her pup and spilling it all.

“I’ve met someone, and I think she might be the one.”

Narla blinked. She had heard of ‘the one’ before. Her other mum Keira had murmured it to her recently when speaking about her new partner, Laura, and now Lucy was too. She still didn’t know what it meant, but she assumed that it was something like a dog’s mate. It clearly meant that the person was special to them, so Narla let out a little supportive bark in response.

“She’s pretty, and she’s Spanish, and oh! She’s everything, Narla,” Lucy gushed, excitedly waving her arms around in the air as she spoke.

“She’s in England right now, playing in Manchester, can you believe it?” Lucy continued, face almost dreamy as she spoke about her new mystery girl. “The wrong side of it, but it’s funny how we played against each other and I didn’t even notice her until now.”

The dog hadn’t seen her mum like this before. So smitten. Lucy had been happy with Keira, at least until the end, but this teenagerlike giddiness was something different altogether. Maybe it was because it was new, but Narla already felt more cheerful at the sight of Lucy being so happy about something.

“I can’t wait for you to meet her. I know you will love her.” The ‘like I do’ remained unspoken, as Lucy felt that it was too early to admit something like that, even to her dog, but Narla looked at her knowingly after those words.

“I’m happy,” Lucy whispered into the air, and then was silent. Narla took that as a sign to burrow into Lucy’s chest and fall asleep, dreaming of sticks, and rocks, and a faceless woman who made her human smile brighter than she ever had before.

A couple more weeks had passed until there was someone new around the house, Narla had noticed. Ona. That was her name. She spoke in a deep accented tone, her English in that familiar accent that the Westie had gotten accustomed to over the past few months or so. She always gave Narla a friendly cuddle when she saw her - it turns out Spaniards were super affectionate with animals too - and would occasionally slip her a treat that the dog would eagerly snap up.

At first, it was merely a few visits, Ona curling up with Lucy and Narla on the couch and scratching behind the dog’s ears in a certain way that only a select few knew how to do. That was impressive, Narla thought, and so she opted to cuddle up with Ona whenever she came around. 

Sometimes her mum and Ona would do that weird human thing where they pressed their faces together and like… licked? Naturally, Narla wanted to get in with the fun, so she would clamber on one of their laps and leave her own lick up the sides of one of their faces, leading to them to break apart and burst into giggles. She didn’t really know what was so funny, but her favourite person being happy meant that she was happy too.

Then there was a brief bit of time where none of them were around, Narla having been carted off to her grandparent’s house, and she only saw her mums in photos or videos from another one of those little black boxes.

However once that strange period of time ended and Narla was safely back home, Ona was there almost every day, popping in after Lucy came home from training, humming in the kitchen in the morning, walking in step with the English woman while she took Narla on her daily walk.

Then suddenly the Westie was spending time with the Spanish woman alone. Narla used to go to Keira’s when Lucy was away, but soon she was left alone at home with Ona, who always gave her extra snacks and would press her finger to her lips in a shushing motion every time she did. Lucy wasn’t super stingy with snacks per se, but as an athlete, she was careful with diets and knew all too well what health problems could occur if an animal got too overweight. Ona on the other hand loved to spoil her animals, and would regularly dole out treats. Plus it wasn’t like Lucy didn’t know, as Narla had spotted her leaning against the door frame and smiling fondly as Ona ‘secretly’ placed a dog treat on the ground for her to devour.

“I hope you know that I love your mum very much. And I want to tell her that very soon,” Ona spoke out of the blue one day as she stroked Narla’s fur. Lucy had a day of interviews lined up and had figured that it would be nice if her pup had some company - especially after the two away games they had in the past week or two.

“I’m very fond of you too, perrita,” she added. “Listen, I’ve been researching and would you maybe want to learn a trick? In Spanish?”

 Narla wasn’t really one for tricks and didn’t really like being told what to do too much, but the hope etched on Ona’s face made her relent, and she hopped down off the couch and looked up at the Spanish woman in preparation.

“I’ll go get the treats, be right back,” Ona said, jumping to her feet and borderline sliding across the hardwood floors towards the kitchen. Narla then heard a clatter followed by a muffled ‘mierda!’, and she took a few cautious steps towards the direction of the noise but before she could investigate any further, Ona popped back around the corner.

They settled next to the coffee table, and Ona folded her legs under her while Narla sat politely awaiting instruction.

“Okay, so you’re very famous, so I thought maybe you could use this when you meet your fans.” With that, Ona held out her hand palm up. Narla stared at her hand, confused and looked back up at the Spanish woman’s face who was looking back at her in expectation. She leaned forward and sniffed it, and Ona still smelt the same, so she cautiously licked her hand. Still, the Spaniard remained silent with her hand out.

Finally after a few minutes, Narla placed her paw on top of Ona’s hand and was immediately showered with praise and handed a treat. Then Ona once again held out her palm, and Narla placed her paw on top again, getting another treat for her efforts.

They did it a few more times, Ona extending the duration of time between Narla’s paw resting on her palm and giving her the treat, just to make sure that the Westie knew what she needed to do.

“We’re going to introduce a word now, okay?”

This time, when Ona extended her hand, she said ‘hola’, and waited for Narla to place her paw in her hand before praising her and giving her a treat. They went over this step for a wee while, it being slightly more difficult than before, but soon Narla was doing it consistently every time Ona said ‘hola’.

By the time Lucy came home, Ona was practically bouncing off the walls in excitement, elated that Narla had been bright enough to pick up the trick in only a day.

‘Hola, mi vida,” Lucy said tiredly as she walked into Ona’s outstretched arms, burrowing her head into the juncture of the Spaniard's neck. Narla raised her paw slightly at the familiar word but placed it down again as she regarded the lack of a hand in front of her.

“Narla and I have something to show you!” Ona exclaimed, grabbing Lucy’s hand and dragging her in the direction of her dog. “Now I want you to offer her your hand and greet her in Spanish, Entiendes?”

Narla watched as Lucy held her hand up to her, and then the English woman spoke.

“Bon dia?”

“Lucy! Not the right greeting. Come on,” 

“Okay, okay. Hola?”

Hearing that word, Narla reached out her paw to touch Lucy’s hand and the fullback’s jaw dropped open as she softly shook her paw up and down. She turned to her girlfriend in awe, Ona grinning at her excitedly.

“Did you teach her to do this?” Lucy asked, and when the younger woman nodded at her, she gathered her in her arms and twirled them both around, Ona giggling at the action.

“I love you,” Lucy whispered, the statement only loud enough for Ona and Narla to hear. Narla’s ears pricked up at that, and she knew that this was a major deal. A soft expression was now written on Ona’s face, and soon her eyes were wet with tears as she pressed several kisses to Lucy’s lips, all while echoing the words back to her.

While Narla thought this whole display was nice, she kind of wanted her treat now, so she barked once to get their attention. Ona broke away from Lucy’s embrace and knelt down, pulling a treat out of her pocket. “Oh! Lo siento, Narla. Here’s a biscuit.”

“You spoil her rotten, you know that?”

“Only the best for your dog,” came the response, and if Narla wasn’t so preoccupied with her treat, then she would have seen her human wrap Ona up in another kiss.

–

Life with Ona was good, Narla thought, until that puppy came along. Ona’s energetic puppy named Coco. Coco loved Narla, and did Narla love him back? She wasn’t too sure. She definitely loved Ona, that much was obvious. The Spaniard might even edge Lucy out in terms of her favourite person if she continued to spoil her and scratch her head like she did, but unfortunately, Ona came with Coco, a small shaggy, black-and-white dog who loved to annoy her and slobber all over her precious rocks.

She had been rudely awoken from one of her well-earned naps one day by a series of high-pitched barks before a small weight had barrelled into her. A small excitable dog was the culprit, and she did her best to glare at Ona and Lucy who were looking on in amusement.

“This is Coco. Narla, meet Coco. He and Ona are going to be living with us from now on,” Lucy spoke, kissing the side of Ona’s head before grinning down at her dog.

Narla growled a little as Coco’s clumsy tail hit her in the face, and Lucy narrowed her eyes and ordered her to play nice. Internally she humphed in annoyance, but reluctantly she turned back to the puppy and scooched over so he could cuddle up with her. Just this once.

Many days, weeks, and months, passed and Narla and Lucy fell into a routine with Ona and Coco. They seemed to fit into their lives flawlessly, and soon it was as if they had always been there. Narla still saw Keira, of course, but not as much as she used to. She had been primarily Lucy’s dog, in the first place, but she still did miss her other mum sometimes.

The air was lighter in this apartment, Narla had noticed. Ona and Coco just seemed to feel like sunshine. And maybe it was because they were in sunny Barcelona not freezing England, but even Lucy’s whole demeanour had morphed into something brighter.

Ona and Lucy fought just like any other couple, and Narla would go curl up in a ball under the bed when they did - flashbacks from those final months with Keira still lingering in her mind. But it would blow over rather quickly, and her mum and her new mum (?), were always back to being sickeningly sweet in no time.

One night the two women arrived home after having dinner together, and Narla greeted them excitedly at the door and wagged her tail as Lucy scooped her up, Ona pressing kisses to the dog’s head. Coco stayed lying on his little bed, snoozing away, and Narla mentally rolled her eyes at his behaviour. Their humans were home, which was incredibly exciting, but clearly, he valued his nap much more.

They headed towards the lounge, and Ona said something about having a shower before heading away, and soon they could hear the water in the bathroom start to run.

Lucy collapsed on the couch, Narla still in her arms, and she let out a content sigh. A few moments passed.

“I love her, you know?”

Narla did know. Ona had been in their lives for almost three years now, and not a day went by where her mum didn’t show her love for the other woman. In fact, Ona was now one of her mums, Narla decided.

“You can’t tell anyone this, Narla,” Lucy whispered, expression serious and her gaze boring into her dog’s. If the Westie could roll her eyes she would have, she was an animal, who was she going to tell? but even so, she let out a little bark to urge her human to continue.

“I’m going to ask Ona to marry me.” With those words, the English fullback pulled a box out of her pants pocket and popped it open, a shiny diamond ring nestled delicately inside.

Narla always heard that humans gave each other rocks when they loved each other, and she understood completely. She loved rocks and collecting them, and while the ones that humans exchanged were much shiner than the ones she brought home, she still treasured her own much like they did.

“I know you don’t really understand the concept of marriage, but this is a big deal. This means I want Ona and Coco in our lives forever,” Lucy said earnestly, glancing at the ring she held in her hand and back at her dog. “Are you okay with that?”

Narla was more than okay. As much as the smaller dog annoyed her sometimes, she couldn’t help but be a bit fond of him. Ona was also positively wonderful, and Narla wouldn’t mind getting sneaky snacks forever. Not to mention she loved how much joy the Spanish woman had brought into their lives. To show her agreement, she nuzzled Lucy’s hand that was holding the ring box and let out a soft bark as she watched her owner’s face split into a grin.

“I knew you would approve, my best girl.”

Footsteps suddenly echoed in the hall and Lucy hurriedly snapped the box shut and stuffed it in her pants. Mere seconds later, Ona strode into the room and threw herself into Lucy’s side, fingers coming to scratch the top of Narla’s head.

“Your turn to have a shower,” the Spanish woman spoke, turning to Lucy who was looking at her absolutely besotted.

“Wanna come with me?”

“I just had one,” Ona laughed as Lucy tugged her up from the couch and into her arms.

“Can never be too clean,” came the smirked response and soon Lucy whisked her away back down the hall, Ona waving her hand as a goodbye to the Westie who remained on the couch. If Narla could smile, she would have.

A few days later, Lucy had set up a special dinner for herself and her girlfriend on their balcony. She had sent Ona off to spend the entire day with Aitana, and while she was away, the older woman had dragged out a small table and adorned it with a white tablecloth, a bouquet of roses, and a singular candle. She had strung out string lights along the railings to allow a soft golden glow to wash over everything and hid her speaker behind a pot plant that played Spanish love songs at a low volume.

Narla herself was just sitting in the corner gnawing on a toy and occasionally glancing up to watch as Lucy frantically ran to and fro. After a few hours of the English fullback slaving away in the kitchen, the delicious smell of paella soon filled the air, and Narla perked up at that. Whenever that dish was made in their home, she was always given at least one piece of shrimp.

By now Lucy had put the finishing touches on the balcony and quickly got changed into her outfit for the night - cream dress pants, a white no-sleeved shirt, and a matching cream blazer. 

She ventured out to see Narla when she got the text from Ona that she was on her way home, and plucked her dog up, much to the Westie’s chagrin.

“Tonight’s the night, Narls. I’m gonna propose.”

Narla could hear the nerves in her mum’s voice, and so she licked her face to help soothe her worry. The dog knew that Ona loved her mum, and there was no way that the Spaniard would ever not accept Lucy’s shiny rock. But humans were strange and got into their heads about stuff, so all Narla could do was let Lucy hug her tight until the door to the apartment opened and Ona arrived home.

The Spanish woman had gotten ready for the date at Aitana’s, and Lucy was speechless as she took in the skintight white cocktail dress Ona was wearing. The younger woman did a twirl to show off her outfit and blushed prettily as Lucy gathered her into her arms to drop a kiss on her awaiting lips.

“The most beautiful woman on the planet,” the older woman breathed, and kissed away any objections her lover had to that comment.

“This way, baby,” Lucy murmured fondly as she laced her fingers with her girlfriend’s and led her over to the balcony. Ona gasped at the sight of the setup and the homemade paella on the table, and Lucy pulled out a chair for her to sit on.

Dinner was positively a dream, and Narla could feel the happiness radiating from both women as she observed them from her spot on the ground. After a few hours they were drunk on the wine and each other, but Lucy had begun to nervously wobble her leg under the table as she gathered up the courage to ask Ona the one life-changing question she so desperately wanted to ask.

The Spanish woman was just coming down from a fit of giggles at some story Lucy had told, and as the English woman drank in the way her cheeks dimpled as she smiled, she knew she had to do it immediately. 

“Ona I… I’ve never been super good with words so if this comes out as a jumbled mess, I’m sorry.”

Ona looked slightly confused at her words, but nodded slightly in encouragement. Lucy sucked in a deep breath before continuing.

“Ever since you walked your way into my life with that smile of yours during Stan’s wedding, I think you’ve held a piece of my heart. It’s funny how life happens, you know? We knew each other long before that, but we didn’t know each other. Not really. And yet you were already so intertwined in my life because you were friends with my friends and I was living in your home city and playing with your national teammates, and it’s like some invisible string was tying us together just waiting for us to finally notice each other.”

Lucy was crying a little now, emotional as she gazed up at the woman she adored so much. “Oh Ona, I don’t think there’s any other universe where I don’t fall head over heels in love with you. None. It’s just not possible.”

As she said those words, Lucy slowly knelt to the ground in front of Ona, and the younger woman gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth as she registered what was happening.

“Hell, even my dog loves you more than she loves me! I don’t think I could ever picture my life without you and Coco in it, and I don’t ever want to either. You’re my best friend, Ona, and I would be so, so happy to have you both in my life - to be mine - forever. So.. et casaràs amb mi, amor meu?” With that, Lucy pulled the ring box out of her pocket and popped the lid, the diamond sparkling in the setting sunlight.

“Sí, yes, of course, I will marry you amor!” Ona sobbed as she yanked Lucy up from her knees and twined her arms around her neck before kissing her passionately, pouring every ounce of emotion into the action.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Lucy whispered into Ona’s hair as they embraced, body tingling at how surreal this all felt. She was marrying the love of her life. Narla watched on from her spot in the corner and immediately knew what she had to do.

Bounding away into the house, Narla ran to her own bed and scavenged around until she found her favourite rock - the one she barely let anyone touch - and picked it up in her mouth before hurriedly making her way back to her humans. Lucy and Ona were still wrapped up in each other, laughing, pressing their faces together, and occasionally Lucy would twirl the Spaniard around. Narla stood waiting for them to notice her, but when they didn’t, she ran over and nudged Ona’s leg with her nose.

The Spanish woman tore her eyes off Lucy as she felt the touch, and looked at the small dog who was standing at their feet. Narla placed her rock on the ground in front of her, and politely sat, wagging her tail. 

“Is she..?” Ona trailed off as she stared at the Westie in front of her, the rock lying like an offering.

“I think she’s proposing to you too. I mean look at the size of that rock,” Lucy laughed, burying her face into the other fullback’s neck as she realised what her dog was doing.

“Aw, Narla! I would be honoured,” Ona grinned, bending down to gently take the rock that Narla had presented to her and brought the dog into her arms. Lucy’s own arms were soon around the both of them and Narla snuggled into their chests, content to be with her humans.

“My girls,” the English woman whispered, happy tears almost threatening to spill again.

“Mi chicas,” Ona echoed, pressing a kiss to her fianceé’s lips (déu meu, they were going to be married), and letting out an elated giggle.

A series of sharp barks rang through the air, interrupting the moment, and all three looked down to see Coco jumping and yelping at them. Lucy let out another chuckle - she couldn’t seem to stop smiling lately - and brought him into their embrace.

“And my boy, as well,” Lucy added, pecking Coco’s scraggly head. All of them stood there for a short while, just basking in their little domestic bubble and enjoying the moment as the sun set behind them. Life was good.

Later that night after Lucy had banished her from the bedroom, Narla nestled into her own bed, happy at how successful the day had gone. Ona and Lucy were both impossibly happy, that much was evident as she had taken in their shiny eyes and the way they had been wrapped around each other for most of the night.

Her musings were interrupted as quick feet came rushing in her direction and came to a grinding halt in front of her.

Coco dropped a small pebble in front of her and looked at her with bright eyes, and Narla sighed. She supposed she would let him cuddle with her, just for tonight.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Ok random thought, but what if Jake wore his hair down in illegal gambling arc because he wanted to save money, so he didn’t buy pomade? Like he did when he ate ramyeon for weeks straight🥹 Had to share it with somebody, you came to my mind

Sneaky sneaky, giving me brainrot. This is VERY indulgent. VERY rambly. More so than usual. Honestly, I dont even know what this is.

Jake Kim x Reader: Hair Pomade

G/N. Gambling arc. Jake has a new hairstyle.

You didn't mind Jake's new hair, though you did mind why he had to wear it that way.

A part of you couldn't help but think that if your own features fit together as nicely as his does, you would never have any of your face covered up. Even if it was just his forehead, fringe sweeping over his eyebrows.

It just seems a waste to hide any of it.

"What, you don't like my new look?" he would ask with an exaggerated pout, after you brushed his hair back one too many times as he lay his head in your lap. It was clearly said in jest but you could identify some of the tension and hurt beneath his carefully casual demeanour.

That in itself was strange.

Jake barely ever cared about his looks. Coupled with the way he's become impatient and irritable in the last couple months, you could tell something had been brewing.

You did try to poke and prod at whatever was lurking in his mind, to figure out the source of his issues. You never got an answer. Every time you did though, you would get the old Jake back. Just for a few days. Where he was all smiles, attentive and affectionate until whatever burden he had hit him full force again.

Other changes caught your eye too. Don't think you've missed the way he's been more frugal lately, previous dates are now replaced with mostly hanging out at yours.

Again, you didn't mind. But add that to the fact you've seen him dropping a little of his bulk, skin losing its usual glow and you've also seen the amount of ramen (and only ramen) he has been eating-

You can put two and two together.

For whatever reason, you conclude, Jake is scrimping and saving. And that includes cutting back on hair pomade.

You barely have two wons to rub together yourself. However, the hair pomade, or lack thereof, made you a lot sadder than it really should.

Just that whatever Jake had to do, whatever he couldn't share with you, meant that he couldn't have that little routine he has followed for years. Since before you two got together.

That time to himself each morning, where he would get his hair just how he liked it. Smiling a little to himself once its styled in his usual way. A little peace before the chaos of the day truly started.

Maybe you over egged the significance of this, overthinking and spiralling. Nevertheless, you did what you could.

When Jake pulled the little tub out of a gift bag, the one he always used with the black container and white font, he mistook the gift for him as your own personal preference.

"You hate it that much?" Again with the lighthearted tone, yet his eyes are tight.

"No," you reach up to kiss him and ruffle his hair, "I just know how much you liked to wear it swept back... and maybe I'll cook tonight? You've had enough ramen for a lifetime."

Jake swallows down the lump in his throat.

He doesn't know what to say. Has it been that obvious with how much he has been struggling in the last few months? Of course you could clearly see through him. He should have known better than to keep it from you.

Jake can't tell you everything, but perhaps he can tell you some things.

The tightness in his eyes is replaced by a wetness. He doesn't look at you, he can't. If he does he thinks he might crack.

Jake keeps his eyes downcast, staring at the tub gripped in his hand.

The hair pomade, that really should be insignificant, that meant nothing - means everything to him.

[familyvideostevie]

hii, this is for 🐚 SEASHELL

"Listen to the wind blow, down comes the night Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies Break the silence, damn the dark, damn the light" + remus please!

<3

hello! wow okay i think maybe you meant for this to be angsty but i'm so lame and did not do that. forgive me! here's remus and you talking about the future!

--

"She sounds quite mad at him," you say quietly. Remus's record spins on his player loud enough that you can hear the music over the thump of his heart under your ear. He's stretched out on the couch and you're stretched out on top of him for your lazy night in.

Dam your love, damn your lies

"I don't blame her," Remus says. You feel the words in your jaw from the rumble of his chest. His hand strokes your hair lazily. You turn your head and prop your chin on his sternum to get a better look at him.

He looks relaxed, eyes half-shut and hair a bit of a mess. He's leaning on one arm, looking thoughtful if not a little sleepy. He feels you looking and looks down at you, mouth stretching into a lazy grin that pulls at the big scar across his cheek. Your heart swells.

"It's just sad, I guess," you tell him. His smile turns to a question, his palm leaving your scalp to cup your cheek.

"What is?"

"Well, they were in love and then they weren't. And they know it and they should break the chain, or whatever, but it's sad. That love can fizzle like that."

You realize it's making you sadder than you thought possible from a song you've heard hundreds of times before. Remus seems to notice. "C'mere," he says, tugging your shoulder. You scoot up and try not to knee anything vital in the process until your faces are much closer. He turns you so that you're both on your sides, smushed into the couch, noses brushing.

"S'not what I see happening here," he says. "I've got plans, you know."

"Oh?" You raise your eyebrows. Remus always has plans, little secrets he's working on that always end up being dinner at your favorite place or a gift so lovely it makes you cry.

"Indeed," he says. He deliberately rubs your noses together. "So many plans because you'll never be rid of me since I'm going to love you forever." The sincerity of his admission steals your breath. You know this, of course, but you thought you were joking around a bit.

"Goodness," you whisper. "You always say such romantic things, Remus."

"I practice them in the mirror." He closes the already minuscule gap and kisses you softly. He hasn't shaved in a few days and you feel his stubble on your skin.

"I do, too," you say, once you pull away.

"Hmm?"

"Have plans. And love you forever, I guess." Remus chuckles and presses your face to his neck.

"Thought so."

join the celebration!

[baldursgat3]

Part 2 of my Enemies to Lovers. 3.1k words this time. Once again. Got away from me. This chapter literally doesn't even contain Astarion physically it's all just Karlach. I just love her I'm sorry but I said slow burn and I fuckin meant it

Part 1

“You mean Astarion?” She looked sadder now, glancing back towards the camp outside your tent. “He's not a monster any more than you are. Being a vampire doesn't just make you a monster.” “Luring countless people to their deaths does, though.” You could see the way it hurt her when you spoke about him that way, but it was true. He'd probably just won her over with his fancy words and pretty lies. “And you're all letting him tag around and play hero! As though he deserves any of it!” Your voice was rising in volume, you could hear it. You couldn't stop it though. It was hard not to let your emotions control you after everything. But you could see the sadness in her eyes at your words and that hurt.

At some point, the comfort and warmth of Karlach’s body as she carried you close to her chest wound up putting you to sleep. You'd tried to stay awake, hoping to scope out how your city had changed but you barely made it out of the palace before her warmth consumed you completely. It had just been so long since you'd felt comfortable and safe like this.

Safe? No you didn't feel safe. Not exactly. Well maybe a little? No! No not at all, you weren't safe with these people. They were all friends of Astarion's, they couldn't be trusted. How foolish was your exhausted mind that you allowed that vile man to convince you to be taken away again? Just because his warm, soft, beautiful- just because his friend said a few nice words?

Your mind tried to reconcile your conflicted thoughts as you slowly woke up. You were in some kind of tent. Nothing fancy, just some blankets and a bedroll, but it was far softer than the floor of your cell. It seemed to be daylight out, though it could've been absolutely any time. All you knew was that it was night when you left Cazador's palace.

Was this their game? How cruel. You were trapped in this little tent. There was only one exit and it led directly to your death. You were stuck in there, at least until nightfall.

You sat for a while, fuming about your new brand of captivity before your eyes fell on a small stack of books near the head of your bedroll. Books? Did you even remember how to read?

You hated the way your fingers trembled as you picked up one of the books. You still hadn't eaten anything, you didn't really feel like holding it, so you sat cross legged and rested it in your lap.

It had been so long since you'd held a book. You had always loved reading, it was the reason your old friends had pressured you into trying to go out more. You spent too much time reading. Well, reading never got you kidnapped and locked away for 200 years.

They weren't books you would've picked, but they were acceptable. Two of them were cheesy romance novels that you read sometimes and only in secret. The one in your lap was some adventure fiction about a dragon slayer or something. Not your cup of tea, but it was well written. And it wasn't like you had anything else to do.

Besides, the more you lost yourself in the book, the more the anger and fear of the day began to fade. It was easy to get lost in a world of grand heroics. You'd finished nearly 100 pages by the time you were interrupted.

The tent flap swung open abruptly - you'd been too engrossed in your book to hear anyone approach. Though it was largely blocked by the figure standing in front of it, several rays of sunlight struck your skin as you hissed and recoiled. You heard a soft “Oh shit!” before the flap closed and the sun was kept at bay once more.

You had never been burnt by the sun before. You hadn't seen daylight since before you were taken away from the world. It had only touched your skin for a moment and you could feel exactly where it had, like an awful sunburn. But still, your heart ached for the light. It was so close and completely out of your reach.

Karlach sat in front of you in your tent, an apologetic look in her eyes. “Sorry, I… kinda forgot you can't be in the sun.”

You were so torn. If it was anyone else you could've been nasty to her without a second thought. But she seemed so much kinder than anyone else you'd spoken to. The part of you that ached relentlessly for companionship, to not be lonely anymore, it begged you to ignore the other part of your mind that didn't trust anyone that was even remotely close to Astarion. You couldn't trust her.

But you still couldn't be mean to her. So you just sighed, throwing her a quizzical look, rather than a bitchy one. “Don't you live with a vampire right now?”

“Oh, well yeah… but…” She seemed hesitant to continue, though you only looked at her, blankly, leaving her no real choice. “Well he doesn't… okay so this is complicated.”

Over the next several minutes she laid out exactly what had been happening, the mind flayers, the cult, the tadpoles. Cazador had just been a pitstop on their world saving mission. It was difficult to imagine someone like Astarion trying to save the world. Karlach? She was hero material. Not that slimy little twink.

More importantly than anything, though, she very cautiously told you that the parasite they shared gave Astarion protection from the sun. Of course it did. He got everything, didn't he? Wasn't he lucky? You only stared longingly at the glow that came from outside your tent, and he was free to frolic about it in however he wished.

She must've seen the anger that flooded your face, as she reached out to try to comfort you. You didn't stop her as she placed a hand on your shoulder. “I'm sorry… For what happened to you. With him. I'm sure it doesn't mean anything from me, but I am sorry.”

“Why does he get to be in the sun? Why does he get to kill Cazador?” You were angry and tired and still so very very hungry. “He ruined my life. He ruined so many people's lives. He deserves to rot in the ground.”

“I… I don't think this is a conversation we should be having. You deserve to talk to him about this. I think you deserve to talk to each other, actually.” Her words were soft. As much as you never wanted to look at him again, she was right. This wasn't her issue, you wouldn't get the answers you needed from her.

You took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself and reign in your anger. When you spoke again, your voice was much calmer, more even and less distressed. “So, then… why did you come here?”

“Oh!” Her eyes lit up and you suddenly realized how much warmer it was in your tent with her in it. “I came to offer you a snack.” She grinned, holding out her hand out to you with a closed fist.

You simply stared at her, looking between her face and her hand, mostly confused why she was taking so long to open her hand and actually give you something. “Um…”

“Sorry, did you not want it?” She pulled her hand back, just a bit. A confused, sad look crossed her face as she looked back at you.

“No, no!” It was the first time you ever managed any kind of excitement as you shook your head. “I do, I just… what are you… giving me?”

“A… drink…?” She seemed just as confused as you were. “Do you not drink blood, like Astarion? I'm sorry, I guess I just assumed-”

“You'd let me bite you?” Your heart lept into your throat. You'd never had anything but a couple rats in your miserable life as a vampire. Even then, that was so long ago and they had been given to you only as such wonderful gifts.

Karlach chuckled, a warm, comforting sound. “If you want to. But I will pull you off if you don't stop yourself and I super promise I'm stronger than you.” She grinned at you and you felt your lips twitch upwards in response. It was the closest thing to a smile you'd managed in over a century. How odd.

You very gently took her hand in both of yours, staring at her as though you were waiting for her to jerk away at any moment. She didn't though, she just smiled back at you. “Might be a little warmer than you're used to.”

Used to. She thought you were used to drinking blood of any kind. It was still a strange concept to you but… if she was offering, it must not be an issue for you to worry about. Not morally anyway.

Ever so gently you sunk your fangs into one of her veins, piercing her warm skin as her blood dripped onto your tongue. It was definitely warm. Almost hot like coffee. It was… sweet though. Not like coffee. Like hot chocolate. A perfect cup of hot chocolate after too long spent outdoors in the cold.

It didn't really occur to you to think about how strange it was to compare someone else's blood to a children's drink, you were too consumed by your hunger. She was delicious, far different than any of the rats you'd eaten. You could feel her warmth as it seemed to radiate through your body.

You really didn't mean to lose yourself, you were just so hungry. Besides, you believed her when she said she was stronger than you. You only hoped she knew when you'd had too much because you were accidentally set to drink her completely dry

She might've been telling you to stop, you really couldn't hear anything over the fireworks going off in your head as you finally ate something. Or - someone maybe.

Still, you suddenly felt her palm against your forehead as she pushed your head away from her wrist. You barely had the strength to instinctively resist her. You were still starving.

“- make yourself sick, mate.” You heard her voice come into focus as you wiped your mouth. It took a moment, but you shook yourself out of your frenzy, glancing up at her with frightened eyes.

“Oh, I- I'm sorry.” You whispered. “I didn't… I really didn't mean to-”

“Hey, it's okay.” Her voice was bright as ever. “Might've been a lot but I doubt they'll need me to whack anything too big tomorrow.”

What was wrong with this woman? Why was she so kind? So happy? How could she smile so easily like this? It didn't seem like her trust even wavered in you at all, despite you barely even trying to resist your hunger. “Why are you doing this?”

Her eyes softened, though the smile always remained on her face. “There's a lot of shit in this world. We've both been through hell, we know what it's like. Why would I want to cause more of that? Especially when I can help, instead?”

You wanted to laugh at her, a part of you was almost angry that she acted like she knew what you'd been through. She was so kind though, you just couldn't find it in your undead heart to be mean to her. Still, you sighed and looked away. “I don't think you understand what it's like to go through hell.”

She laughed. She was laughing at you, why was she laughing? You straightened up, a bit startled and a little irritated that she would do that. She must've seen it on your face, too, because she held her hands up in defense as she stopped laughing.

“I'm sorry, that wasn't nice.” She still smiled. “It's just- it's not your fault but gods, you couldn't be more wrong. I mean I literally went through hell. A personal attack dog for Zariel for ten years. I know you've got time on me but, I mean… front lines of the Blood War? Maybe we call it a draw.”

You stared at her quizzically. There was no way this woman survived ten years in the hells and came out like this. She was so… friendly? “You can't be serious.”

“Dead serious.” She thumped her chest, a loud banging sound echoing out as though she was hitting steel. “Gave me this to remember them by. An infernal engine right where my heart should be.”

It made sense, she ran hotter than anyone you'd ever known. If she had fires from the hells roiling in her chest, that'd explain it. Still, it baffled you. Devils stole her heart from her and she still smiled at you and laughed and bantered.

Her smile softened just a bit, taking on a sadder undertone. “So trust me when I say I know what it's like to deserve better. I understand a lot more of what you're feeling than you might think. You're surrounded by good people, though.”

“I find that hard to believe.” You scoffed, pulling your knees in. Karlach was the exception, but you were positive every other person in this camp was just as vile as Astarion. “You've been harboring a monster with you this whole time, someone must've okayed that.”

“You mean Astarion?” She looked sadder now, glancing back towards the camp outside your tent. “He's not a monster any more than you are. Being a vampire doesn't just make you a monster.”

“Luring countless people to their deaths does, though.” You could see the way it hurt her when you spoke about him that way, but it was true. He'd probably just won her over with his fancy words and pretty lies. “And you're all letting him tag around and play hero! As though he deserves any of it!”

Your voice was rising in volume, you could hear it. You couldn't stop it though. It was hard not to let your emotions control you after everything. Especially now that you've actually got a bit of energy from feeding on Karlach. But you could see the sadness in her eyes at your words and that hurt.

“Astarion was a victim. Just like you were. It was just… in different ways.” She bit her lip, glancing down at her hands awkwardly. “This really isn't a conversation I should have with you. It's not my story to tell. All I can ask is that you give him a chance. Cazador controlled him too. He knows, more than anyone, the anger you feel.”

That was true. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Cazador had been using Astarion and his “siblings” for. It was hard to care how little say he might've had in the matter when your life was still over. It wasn't like you didn't blame Cazador but “Astarion still chose me.”

Your voice was soft now, tears welling up in your throat as you spoke. She wasn't hitting you with any new revelations. You had assumed Astarion had been manipulated or even controlled into fetching prey for Cazador. Various stories of him from your cellmates painted the picture of a man who didn't exactly want to be sacrificing strangers to an evil man but the point remained. He could've picked up any number of people. And he chose you.

Karlach didn't seem to know how to respond. You didn't know the woman too well but you got the feeling she wasn't speechless very often. Not that you minded when she was so friendly. Now though, you both just sat awkwardly in your tent, neither of you quite sure what to say.

Finally, after what was likely only about ten seconds that felt like a year, she spoke again, her voice quieter than you were used to. “He did.” There was no point in trying to make an excuse. There wasn't much sense in arguing. Obviously if he hadn't chosen you it would've been someone else, but what comfort would that be?

You had been miserable, starved and isolated for nearly two centuries. Stripped away from your family and friends, your home, every plan you ever had, everything. You were keenly aware it was selfish to wish such suffering on anyone else but, at a certain point, you stopped caring about your morality. You would've given anything for him to have chosen someone else.

It didn't feel good, when you first realized you felt that way. The recognition that your suffering had worn away at the very core of who you were. Thoughts and feelings you would've never imagined happening filled your mind. Violence and anger and bitterness. A deep, boiling hatred and a desperate longing for revenge. All emotions that you had never been terribly familiar with before all this, not really. Now they consumed you.

“I'm sorry.” Karlach's voice was gentle. Though her eyes displayed a kind of sadness, she still smiled. She still seemed so optimistic. You didn't understand. “Look, I'm not gonna make you do anything, but I think you should talk to Astarion. I'll be there too, if you want, so nobody kills anyone.”

You laughed. It was a short, somewhat bitter laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “That seems smart.” You didn't want to talk to Astarion. He didn't deserve anything from you but… maybe Karlach did. She was the reason you were out of that shitty dungeon. Even if you were stuck in a tent, you hadn't realized how desperately you'd missed the fresh air. “Fine. I'll talk to him. But only if you're there too.”

Her eyes lit up and you could see her body move instinctively for a moment before she pulled it under control. She had nearly lunged out to hug you, before thinking twice about it. You would've let her. “Oh, awesome! Okay that's exciting. I promise, I think you'll feel better after this, I really do. I'll talk to him, maybe you can chat tonight. You know. When you can actually leave the tent without roasting.”

She smiled at you warmly. Clearly she had been banking on you agreeing to talk to Astarion, though you weren't sure why. Her excitement was contagious, though, and you found yourself smiling in spite of yourself. You wanted to hug her, you wished she'd gone for it and hugged you. It wasn't the sort of thing you felt you could go asking for yet though. So instead you just allowed the smile to remain on your face as you spoke. “Thank you. For- for being kind to me. Even though I'm… kind of a bitch.”

“Eh, you've got reason to be a bitch.” She gave your shoulder a playful shove. “Anyway, you need to rest. Finally had something to eat again after all this time, I'm sure you could use a nap.” She chuckled, rising from the ground in front of you.

She moved to the tent flap, carefully opening it this time to keep the sun's rays off your body. You couldn't help staring longingly at the beam of light on the floor, though. You glanced up as she spoke again, haloed now by the light from outside. “I'll go talk to him, you get some rest, yeah? Later!”

And with that she was gone. But still, you smiled. Her warmth still lingered. Besides, you knew she'd come back.

[palfriendpatine66]

Sounds like a wonderful idea to me! Sorry, I got a little carried away with your idea.

Obi-Wan and Anakin hiding their fan mail from each other because they keep getting letters describing how wonderful they are together as a couple, how right they look together, how they are meant to be, etc. Neither of them gets a single letter that doesn't mention the other one.

At first, they're probably like umm no way, everyone must be taking copious amounts of space drugs before sending us these letters.

Then they're like we'll 6,432,691 people can't be wrong, could they? No, of course they're wrong, right? Are we a couple, I'd know if we were a couple. Well, I mean, we do spend every possible waking and non-waking moment together, and I have plotted the murders for every sentient who has ever looked at him for more than 2.5 seconds, but that's all platonic and a very normal way to behave. No deeper meaning here whatsoever. Imagine they are sitting beside each other, thighs touching, on their couch sharing one thought bubble for this part.

Then comes the oh force, I'm in love with him, but he'll never love me back stage. The public gets confused by all of the pining and longing looks. They're like, y'all are already a couple...what's with the sad eyes?

Resolution comes when Anakin snoops through Obi-Wan's space email because he's desperate to figure out why Obi-Wan has been sadder in the force lately and "no he can't just ask him like a "normal" person Ahsoka". Anakin, though of course, misinterprets what he reads and is mortified thinking Obi-Wan knows how he feels about him and doesn't reciprocate, but is too wonderful of a person to reject him so he has just been suffering through Anakin's presence. "No, Ahsoka, I won't come down off of this ledge. My world is over!". Obi-Wan comes running because his pad-, his dearh-, his Anakin is in distress and needs him!

Cue tearful apologies from Anakin for inflicting himself onto Obi-Wan and lots of hugging and shushing and "It's ok, my love, you're the best part of my life", and oh look they are kissing now. Run Ahsoka run, your masters need some alone time, lots of alone time.

HI OK I LOVE THIS

If you wanted to write this I love where you took it and would absolutely read it in more detail - just saying. So cute! 💕

[elvisabutler]

my heart will lead me there soon

summary: after having freshly broken up with anita wood after a fight over his nature, elvis finds himself on a beach in the wee hours of the morning. you are on that same beach. fandom: elvis ( 2022 ) | elvis presley | austin butler pairing: elvis presley x reader technically, past elvis x anita, elvis x june, among others. rating: t-ish word count: 3,411 warnings: mentions of gladys' death. mentions of seal skin. mentions of turning into a seal. references to elvis's relationships in the 50s and the early 60s ( so june, natalie, dixie and anita ). prejudice against non-human individuals. author’s note: so basically everyone can blame @prompted-wordsmith for this because they kept spamming me with baby elvis fics and just whispered "so what if you did a ships in the night sort of fic with the reader and elvis post anita break up" and well. this was born. there's one or two lines that came from her as well. it seems sadder than it is, but i promise it's a sweet fic. this is completely unedited because i'm impatient and this feels like a hot coal in my jean pocket. let's be honest this is one of those fics i just started and half ran with. told y'all i was feeling really creative lately. and y'all know the drill read it with whomever you wish to.

Elvis figures he shouldn't be surprised. Figures that it was as inevitable as June breaking things off with him because he hadn't had the decency to remain true. That oh he got a little lonely and things just kept ramping up up and up. Elvis figures he should have known that sweet Anita, his little pee pee, his Chicken Little would hear his secret and think that's the last straw. Maybe if- maybe if he hadn't been like he was with June it would have been different. Maybe if he had stayed true to her too it would have been different. But now he tells her one more secret and shifts in front of her and hears a goddamn scream of horror and disgust that has him shifting back so suddenly and crowding her space as if to apologize only to have her practically yanking herself away from him.

"After everything? After everything you kept this from me? You're not even human?" Anita's voice feels like nails on a chalkboard, screeching at levels his ears register as painful in ways he only gets with the bad feedback of a mic.

Elvis winces at the accusation, the shame of her reaction nearly making him curl in on himself. He's always known it's a hard thing to come to terms with and knows that he had gotten lucky with June reacting so well when he told her but still Anita's reaction catches him off guard. Sets him on edge and makes his pride deflate even as a part of him wants to fight Anita.

"This- I wonder why I wouldn't tell ya! Actin' like I meant t'hurt ya by not tellin' ya. Jus' was tryin' to protect myself!" Elvis can't help but try and crowd her space, wanting to get her to stop screaming and get her to listen, be reasonable about this. "'m- 'm still Elvis, 'm still me."

"You're a seal, Elvis," she accuses, moving back as he tries to move closer her hands moving in front of her body to make him stop moving in front of her. "Our- Is it- How'd- I don't even want to know. You'd have made our kids like this too, wouldn't you? I'd have seal babies not human babies."

He opens up his mouth to try and defend against it and yet he knows he can't. He knows he's a selkie because his mama was one and her daddy before her and so on and so on. It is genetic but there's no guarantee it would have happened. Maybe- maybe his kids wouldn't be selkies. Maybe their first little Elvis Presley would have just been a plain ol' run of the mill human.

When he finally does speak, his voice is tight. "Proper name's a selkie, Anita. And- it ain't all my family that's like that. Jus'- hell, ya don't wanna listen 'bout this. Already know. Don't care 'bout it 'cept for those hurt feelings of yourn."

The words are vicious, he thinks, something close to how he talked to her with that leaked phone call and yet he can't help it. Can't help the vitriol that is pouring from his mouth. She's supposed to be the love of his life, the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with and now she's proving she isn't that woman. He can't turn her into a seal wife any more than he could make June forgive him for straying.

"My hurt feelings. I've put up with so much from you. This is the final straw, Elvis, I- I don't think we should see each other any more," Anita's voice shakes when she speaks and Elvis despite his anger wants to comfort her just a little bit. His hand moves out to touch her before she shakes her head, giving him the handkerchief he had given her with his initials sewn in it. "Leave me alone. I'm- I'm going home."

For once Elvis doesn't have it in him to fight, doesn't have it in him to have a blowout argument with someone he loves. If she wants to leave over this maybe it's for the best. Maybe she was never meant to hold his skin in her hands. Maybe she was never meant to have his children. Maybe she wasn't a seal wife. Maybe he wasn't supposed to have one- not yet.

He misses his mama during times like this. She'd have comforted him, shushed him and told him how it's alright, he'd find another girl who could be with him. His mama was so picky about the girls he wanted to date that every time when she would like someone he'd always think she might be the one. Hell, he remembers how she had hated Natalie and loved June and Anita and even Dixie. She wasn't here now, though, and never would be again. She wouldn't ever be there to swim with him and to remind him that it takes time sometimes and that he needed to find the perfect one.

"You'll know when you find her, Boobie. She'll feel like home and like me."

Except it's been years since he's had his mama and he doesn't remember quite what home is supposed to feel like any more. Only that it's not this stupid beach in California where the water is fine and so is the sand but he can only come here unbothered in the early morning hours. His shift is easy enough, a quick slide between his forms after he set aside his clothes in a hidden area. No one should be on the beach for another hour or so and it'll give him time to think. Give him time to swim with his handkerchief tied on his flipper. He shouldn't do that, he thinks but he can't help it. Can't help how he wants to wash away the scent of Anita with the tangy smell of the salt of the sea. That'll be something close to home, more than her perfume ever was.

Time as a seal passes by strangely and Elvis only knows it's not time to shift back from the placement of the sun in the skin but he can see a human shaped person on the beach as he comes onto dry land. The longer he stares the closer they start to be until he realizes it's a woman he's never met before. It's a woman who he's never seen before and yet seems to not bat an eye at the fact that there's a seal in front of her staring at her. Then again, perhaps it just hadn't sunk in that she's staring at a seal.

You honestly should back away, you think, you should back away and run from the seal in front of you. They could probably crush you and yet the more you look at the one in front of you the more you feel surprisingly at ease. If he wanted to hurt you he would have already but instead he appears to be sizing you up, trying to figure out what you're doing in relation to him.

Truthfully what you want to do is pet him, a silly desire born of just seeing how smooth his pelt seems to be and wanting to know how it feels in between your fingers. You have to remind yourself that he's a wild animal first and foremost though so the desire is pushed down deep inside even as you walk a little closer to him and notice there's a handkerchief tied to his fin with the initials EP on them. There's only one EP you can think of who'd have something like this and before you can even stop yourself you find yourself talking to this seal.

"Are you out here stealing Elvis Presley's handkerchiefs?" You practically coo at the seal as you bend down to untie it. Elvis briefly tries to move his fin back before he realizes just what you're doing and allows it. "This isn't yours, silly little seal. How'd you even find this, hm? He leave it behind after going for a swim some time? You don't need this any more than I think he does."

You look as if you're going to toss it away before you hear the seal whimpering. Elvis- despite you not knowing it's him is whimpering at you. Letting out these little noises that are confusing but make some part of your chest tighten and twist. It almost sounds like a child wanting comfort.

Elvis can't help the noises that leave him, the almost cries that leave him at being called a seal so sweetly by someone he's never met after Anita's anger at it. He knows being a selkie isn't natural, knows it's rare but he is one. He turns into a seal and has a skin he can give to the one he loves so intensely that he wants to bind them together for all of his life. You start to hush him as one would hush a baby and he finds himself moving closer, making it so you sit down properly on the sand instead of crouch. There's something comforting about you, something that settles his mind, soul and heart at your quiet shushing. Without even questioning his own actions he manages to settle his head in your lap and looks up at you almost pleading with you to comfort him more than you already had.

Looking down at him seals your fate, seals your doom at finally falling prey to your desire to pet him. You shouldn't and yet at the brush of your fingers against his head you see him practically turn to putty. His head lolling a little to the side almost as if to nuzzle at you, booping your stomach with his snout. His pelt feels soft and warm but you don't know if that's just his body heat you're feeling or not. A giggle leaves you at the press of his snout against and you're struck by how right this feels, that petting this seal's head feels so normal and like it's what you should be doing at any given time. To have enough money to have a seal like this would be a dream, you think. A dream you're pretty sure only Elvis Presley himself or one of those big Hollywood types could manage. Perhaps if you could just get enough money you could have something like this to cure your ills and make nights like the one you had the night before seem like distant memories. If you had just enough money you could have someone to spend your time with on the beach like this in the early hours of the morning before one of your jobs. The job you might be late for if you don't head home soon to get ready. It's that knowledge that has you pressing against the seal's face with a murmur, "I'm going to have to go, seal."

Elvis feels you touching his face, feels you trying to force him off your lap and lets out a whine. He had just gotten comfortable in your lap. He had just gotten comfortable in what felt like a true seal wife's lap and had felt himself trying to drift off to sleep amongst your murmurs and soft humming and shushing. Why were you trying to make him leave? Why did you have to go anywhere? He could make excuses for whoever you had to go meet. If it was your job he could take care of you if you'd just stay here with him in this moment. Maybe if he shifts back you'll stay here, you'll know he's Elvis Presley and there's no reason to leave him. He wants to- He wants to know you, to figure out who you are and know your name so he can whisper it into the sea so you'll come back.

You swear the seal's gotten heavier and doesn't want you to leave as you look down to see what almost looks like a human pout on his face. It would be a dream to stay here with the seal in your lap and not have to worry about anything else but you can't. In a fit of stupidity because you know you shouldn't touch a wild animal let alone kiss one, you grab both sides of the seal's face and place a kiss on top of its head, watching as their eyes seem to widen, startling enough to allow you to get out from under them and stand up. Once the shock seems to wear off they move toward you, pressing their snout at your stomach again, trying to push you to the sea as another warning to not leave.

"I've got a job. I've got to get going. I would stay with you if I could, silly seal," you try to reason with the seal only to get another boop to your stomach and a small whine. "I can't just stay here. Tell you what, I walk on this beach some days. Maybe tomorrow I'll see you again? Would you like that?"

You swear you hallucinate the seal actually nodding its head in affirmation but it makes you smile nonetheless. The seal finally allows you to leave despite hunching in on himself as if he's trying to do something though you can't tell what. You start to walk away and suddenly feel his snout against your hand with fabric.

Elvis thinks he should shift right there, she's proving she doesn't mind having a strange seal she just met bothering her and yet he stops himself, worrying she'll rebuff him just as Anita did. He loved June but it wasn't enough because he was lonely and she wasn't there. He loved Anita but she didn't love all of him and he can't love anyone but the sea and his mama and his family because they haven't ever betrayed him. They haven't left him, they aren't trying to leave him like she is right in this moment. Perhaps she's a good seal wife, perhaps she can hold someone's skin but not his. Maybe that- maybe Priscilla from Germany could. She always did find the myth so fascinating when he told her about it- even if he never told her he was one.

Something in his heart tells him to give this woman something though, to give her that handkerchief to tie them together. It'll be something to make her keep her promise of coming back and remind her of what the sea smells like. What he smells like. What home should smell like. Maybe if he was lucky, you'd figure it out on your own and come find him, prove that sea wasn't leading him down a path of a broken heart and aching soul that just wants to be cared for and loved for every part of him, not just the parts that are what they want.

Your hand moves to grab the handkerchief from his mouth and you smile at him, placing one last kiss to the top of his head and petting his pelt one more time with a bit of a shaky exhale. "Thank you. I'll make sure to keep this safe. And remember, we'll come find each other soon."

He's never there when you come to the beach and you're never there when he comes to the beach for the next month. Each time you miss each other by hours or by minutes until you have to leave California and he gives up. The Colonel can hold his skin till he finds a wife, a true seal wife who won't abandon him for anything. He'll keep it safe like mama did.

"You're her," you hear Elvis whisper against your thigh after suddenly shifting back while you were in the middle of petting him by the pool. You very nearly scream from the shock before you realize just what he said.

"What do mean I'm her?" The question comes out sounding more concerned than you intend it to and your voice shakes with some fear you don't understand. You had just been asking, murmuring to Elvis wondering what makes him so sure you're it, you're the one for him, the one who deserves to have his skin grasped in between your fingers. Why he thinks you're the one who will keep it safe until both of your dying breaths.

"Ya helped me even if ya didn't know it was Elvis Presley in that lap a yourn, darlin', my seal wife. It just took me a while t'see it. But I-I-I see it now." He stutters out the last bit, the faint nervousness at potentially losing you bringing it out. "On that beach. Ya met a seal, kept callin' 'im silly."

"That was you," you whisper, your free hand going to your face as your eyes widen. "That- you had the- because you were EP. And you-"

"It was Anita's. Broke up wit' her 'cause of it. The- me bein' a selkie. She couldn't handle it and-" You could goes unsaid as you cut him off.

"You wouldn't be calling me your seal wife if you hadn't just- I'd be just another woman to you, Elvis. Even though I still have that handkerchief." You hate how your voice sounds, childish and unsure of yourself but after everything, after how he had blown up at you when he discovered your skin and how getting back together, rediscovering each other and settling into something as you try to fully detangle Elvis from his manager has been wrought with one complication or another.

It's then that Elvis moves to sit up and places his hands on either side of your face, shaking his head. "No. That ain't the truth. The second I came back after takin' my skin back from ya room and saw ya- I knew even before I 'member this that ya were my seal wife. Ya were the perfect one. Ya looked like shit, darlin'. Looked as if I aged ya half a decade. Ya feel like home, ya always have felt like it. Back then and even now. That's what a seal wife is supposed t'be."

His thumb brushes along your cheek and you realize it's wet with tears you didn't realize were falling. "Don't cry. That ain't- that aint what I meant t'do," he moves to suck his thumb. "Ya taste like the sea no matter where I taste you. Ya smell like home. Ain't- Nothing ain't my home 'less it's got you wit' it."

Your eyes search his face for some indication that this is just a line, something he tells to women to charm them but you know your Elvis by now, or you like to think you can recognize his tells but there isn't one. There isn't a single hint of a lie in his words and your heart threatens to burst in that moment.

The thing is it should have been a line, just something he whispered and murmured in your ear but between the memory and how he's felt about you even before it's not. You're everything about the sea when he forgets it, your taste and your smell remind him of the tangy sharpness of the saltwater of the ocean. Your anger is the chaos of a choppy stormy sea, the waves threatening to take down anyone near them. Everything about you is made to be a seal wife, made to be his seal wife, the woman who'll protect him and his pups and everyone he dares to care about. You're meant to be by his side, swimming and being warmed by the sun on the beach.

"Elvis," you start only to bite at your lip. "You're too charming for your own good."

His lips curl into a smile before shrugging. "Only when it comes to you, I think. You get my honest charm, not my showman one. I meant what I said, darlin'. Ain't gonna say it again but- I meant it."

There's a million words on the tip of your tongue, a million retorts that you feel he'll enjoy because it'll lead to the two of you sparring in a way you did when you first met but you swallow them all in favor of moving your hand to pet Elvis's hair, silently asking him to try and shift again. "I know. It's why you'll always have me."

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolourr, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted i am probably missing some people who might want to be tagged or people who don't and i apologize.

[wyattjohnston]

need a little company - nick blankenburg

summary: morgan hasn't seen nick in years and her strongest memories of him are the crush he had on her in college. when he gets signed to columbus after years apart, morgan realises that maybe she should have given him a chance.

chapter word count: 700

n/a < table of contents > next

Living and working in Downtown Columbus hadn’t been Morgan’s goal as a kid growing up in Commercial Point, Ohio. She didn’t think she ever had much of a goal besides ‘Get Out of Commercial Point’, so at least she could tick that off her list.

Deciding to go out for dinner was an unwise decision for her bank account but not for her mental well-being, so she detoured on the way home from work—so much later than she should have been finishing—to her favourite Italian restaurant.

It had been a long time since Morgan felt embarrassed about dining alone, and the restaurant had come to expect it of her. She sat at a private little table at the back of the restaurant, ordered crab linguini, put in her earphones and opened up TikTok. It was the same as any other time before.

Except for what happened when she was walking out of the restaurant, and a hand wrapped around her wrist as she passed a table. She flinched, pulling her arm back to herself as she spun around, taking out an earphone as did.

“Morgan. Hey,” the guy who grabbed her wrist said, looking at least a little apologetic for having caught her attention in the way he had.

Morgan nodded and greeted him as she had done for the two years they’d run in similar circles: “Freshman.”

The guy he was with snorted out a laugh and earned himself a glare.

“I graduate in a couple weeks, you know,” ‘Freshman’ retorted, amused but happy. “You can probably call me something else by now. Blanks. Nick.”

The other guy at the table, who Morgan knew as Kent Johnson only because she was into hockey, excused himself, telling Morgan she could have the seat for a minute if she wanted—she stayed standing even if it meant having to step closer to the table every so often so that somebody could pass.

“So,” she said slowly to Nick, “did you follow me or the sick looking kid to Columbus?”

He looked back towards where Kent had disappeared to and laughed, before saying, “Neither. I got scouted.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, lowered her head and her voice so she could say, “Sorry it was to the shithole that is Ohio.”

“It’s not that bad,” he said, an all too familiar quirk at the corner of his mouth.

Morgan straightened up, uncrossed her arms and shrugged, “I suppose it might be okay if you live in the rich parts.”

Nick’s brow pulled together in confusion, and he played with his hands on top of the table before gesturing vaguely out the door to say, “I’m staying in a hotel near the arena.”

She wasn’t all that surprised. He’d be in Columbus for about two minutes before the season ended.

Kent re-joined them, his eyes flickering between the two of them as if he hadn’t expected Morgan to still be standing at the table.

“It was good to see you again, Freshman,” Morgan said to Nick before speaking to Kent, “and actual freshman. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

She was halfway to putting her earphone back in her ear when she saw Nick’s mouth open, so she kept it out to wait for him to speak.

“Do you want—” he cleared his throat. “We can hang out?”

It was easy to wish he hadn’t said anything at all. The hopeful look on his face made it difficult to even think about what she would say next. She just knew she had to say it.

“I don’t think so.” When his hopeful expression immediately disappeared, she tacked on, “Sorry. It’s not personal. I just—I can’t—It’s not a good time to let new people into my life.”

“I’m not new,” he argued, his laugh much sadder than she’d been expecting.

“Fresh—Nick—not right now.”

He nodded silently. Morgan nearly changed her mind right then and there but she held strong, putting her earphone back in her ear and finally getting out of the restaurant. On her way out, she tried not to kick out the stiffness in her knee until she was well out the door.

[cmkren]

The Arishok and His Hero.

;Da2 Arishok x Fem!HoF

The Arishok and the HoF once had an intimate but complicated relationship from when he was a Sten. Tensions are rising in Kirkwall, and his mind subconsciously drifts to a simpler time. A time with her.

Unfortunately for him, there’s one thing he’s forgotten.

a/n: erm, whats up !! I remember struggling writing this because I always though the arishok had like … long hair. so when i figured out he didn’t i just made it a plot point to make things sadder. I am genuinely so sad we don’t get to romance sten in dao argh

also erm sorry got my lore wrong LMAO pretend this is an au where dao sten gets the arishok role immediately after returning

“Well looky you. You aged like fine wine, huh, Sten? Or— I suppose it’s the Arishok now.”

She snarked, a grin on her face but it seemed there was something else behind it. Something deeper, more complex than just two companions reuniting after a long time. That’s all they were, and had been to the outside world. Companions. They didn’t notice the looks, the gentle touches, the desire when one passed the other. Back in the day, that was. Now look at them. Having withered slightly with age.

Mishka had streaks of gray in her hair, though still looking relatively young. Not to mention the barrage of scars on her body— more than when the Arishok knew her. When he had still just been Sten. He changed the most between the two, after all. He was now the leader of the Qunari militia. His hair double the length it was back then, some graying too of course. Wrinkles finally showing up more, more apparent. Long, beautiful horns that Sten lacked back then. Horns she wanted to grab.

“The Hero of Ferelden came to visit. How delightful.” He spoke dryly, making the elf snort and cross her arms. She looked more Dalish now, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Perhaps just a little amused, considering how she used to curse the Dalish as if they were Darkspawn themselves. Perhaps she made some amends with her past and moved on. That would be a first for Mishka. If she had many of those left. The Arishok certainly never expected to see her again, after their departure from one another. Especially after the final fight. Yet here she was.

He sat atop his throne, in the Qunari compound that they had to make due to the misfortune of being stuck in Kirkwall of all cities. Due to his mistake. The stress and tension that’d been building over the last few years, it felt like a pot was going to soon boil over. Being far from Par Vollen didn’t help either— because that meant no Tamassarans. So maybe… that’s why he didn’t call for the Stens around him to apprehend her as she sauntered towards the throne.

His stony stare digging holes into her, watching the familiar movement coming from a woman he used to hold quite close to his chest. Literally and figuratively. The Sten didn’t turn their heads. Maybe it was because he didn’t say anything, or it could have been another reason. He didn’t care. His eyes were only on her. The damned arrogant elf.

The Hero of Ferelden. Small enough for him to tower over, but not fragile that she’d shatter as soon as he put his hand on her waist and squeezed. Definitely not fragile, as she’s shown him dozens of times. That was just when she was starting to hone her skills too, he could only imagine what a decade of hard work and training could do for her. She who sat so languidly in his lap, calloused hand reaching up to caress his face. It made him jolt. That wasn’t the surprising bit. The surprising bit was the way he then keened, and leaned into her touch.

He took in her features. The gnarly burn mark that forever scarred the left side of her face, and travelling to her shoulder. A mark he took upon himself those years ago to heal until she no longer flinched and hissed when he traced his finger over the coarse skin.

Lips that whispered the filthiest things to him. That would spread into a grin when she finally started figuring out how to read him. How to tell what would rile him up and what would absolutely piss him off.

Her hand travelled higher until it tangled itself in his hair, her other hand on his chest. Eyes flitted half closed, looking up at him through long lashes. He who only leaned further down, hardly letting her be the one chasing after him. Instead, he was the one chasing after her. Her touch. Her words.

Her lips parted, putting on display the sharp points she called her teeth. Whenever she raked those across his skin, it felt like a dagger gliding along his body. Little daggers she had in her mouth. “You, Sten,” she breathed out, breath hot against own mouth. His lips parted just the slightest, as if he expected something. Anything.

“Are a useless fucking tool.”

Then there it was. Her hands fell limp. Her head knocked against his own, and the lively body that once sat perched on his lap became limp like a rag doll. The stench of death and charred flesh, the stench of something earthy and dank, the smell of Darkspawn blood.

The top of Fort Drakon. The Archdemon’s corpse on the ground. Next to it, the Hero of Ferelden. She was Grey Warden, to die killing the Archdemon was her purpose. He knew better than anyone— anyone that to stop her from fulfilling that purpose would have made him a hypocrite. So who was he, the man who followed the Qun to the T, who was he to deny her that privilege of purpose he devoted and spoke of? That’s why, while everyone rushed to her side to help fight the Archdemon, he stayed away. He wasn’t there when she drew her last breath. When she fulfilled her purpose.

What of his purpose?

As he stared at the Asala she returned to him. The weapon he killed for when he found out it was missing. For the first time in a while, after that fight. Her death. He questioned it. He questioned it all. The Qun. His life. His faiths. His purpose.

Suddenly, she appeared before him. The Archdemon looming from behind, its breath puffing out smoke with every breath it took. The sky a bewitching and venomous purple, Mishka’s lifeless eyes stared into his. “Tal-Vashoth. Your faith wavered. Your people should have thrown you out,” a storm brew above, “just like you did to me.”

A flash and a bang.

Then nothing.

When vision came to him once again, he was staring up at his tent. Surrounded by handmade, quality cushions all for the Arishok. His bed roll a mess, no doubt from him tossing and turning. His body slightly damp from sweat, as he pushed himself up and off the ground. Locks of hair falling in front of him, as he breathed in and out.

She was dead. She has been for ten years. That had been a figment of his imagination. Unbeknownst to him, it was the guilt that had been building up for a decade. Guess it finally spilled over during this time of high stress. He kneeled, quickly dressing himself and making himself look presentable. Anything to take his mind off of… that.

“Arishok. The diplomat from the Viscount has finally arrived.” Spoke a Sten outside his tent. The Arishok only grunted, right. He had visitors today. More to add to his migraine, he supposed. He slinked out of his tent, eyes squinting just the slightest as the sunlight hit his vision. His head throbbed. He could feel it, still feel her touch. The way she pulled on his hair, so close to the protruding horns adorned with gold bands.

“You know, you’d look absolutely dashing with long hair. I’ve always loved that look on men. Especially you.”

Spoken to him, by her during a drunken night. Oghren convinced her to drink with him, and that made her ten times the more honest than she usually was. Which was honestly a feat. There was certainly more to that memory, but he’d rather leave it untouched. The Arishok looked back to his tent. He supposed a change in his appearance wasn’t criminal.

•••

“What should I say, hm? Fenris, you know a bit of Qun right? C’mon, give me some phrases!”

“I’m afraid learning them right here right now when we’ve already entered the compound would be a bit of poor taste, Hawke. Should have asked me before we came.”

“D’awh, s’okay Hawke! Sure elfy there will gladly aid you in translating some of our delightful conversation topics of the day.”

“Careful— The elf might just end up with us gutted. You know how he is.”

Four pairs of eyes landed on him when he finally walked out. A blonde mage, a white haired elf, a dwarf with a cross bow, and a human. A human with..

“Speak. Now.” His voice came out as a rumble, perhaps with a little more animosity than needed. Yet he could not help it. He sliced off his hair moments before coming out so he wouldn’t have to have a constant reminder of that woman— and here another one was. With similar hair colour and skin, not to mention facial markings as well. And an arrogant little smirk on her face.

Even in death she found ways to piss him off.