#tried to be neutral but hard to do with not other research

[antimonyandthyme]

WHAT IF CARCAR REALLY HAD MAGNETS BETWEEN THEM

/or a stuck together au

“It’s like Eat Pray Love,” Carlos says.

“I’ll be honest,” Guanyu says. “Neither of you remind me of Julia Roberts much.”

“Please just,” Oscar massages the bridge of his nose, “point to a place on the map. Any place.”

“Why China,” Guanyu presses. Of course he’s curious. “Why not Spain or Australia?”

“Neutral ground,” Oscar says quickly.

“Ah I see,” Guanyu says. “You can’t agree on a spot, right?”

“I keep telling him,” Carlos says, always with the over-the-top gesticulating. He tries it with both hands first, then realizes Oscar’s being all sorts of petty and weighing his left arm down on purpose where they’re joined, so he continues gesturing eagerly with his right. “Come to Madrid!” He nearly smacks Oscar in the nose with his hand. Oscar scowls. “We have so much good food. I can show you all the things, but no! Piastri will only agree to get sunburned on Australian sand. We have beaches in Spain, too!”

“Guanyu,” Oscar urges, “a place, now.”

“Here,” Guanyu says, index finger plopping down. Like some cartoon scene, both Oscar and Carlos automatically lean in to squint at the map, and bump their heads against each other.

“I hate you.”

“Hard same.”

“Lijiang is actually a famous honeymoon destination,” Guanyu says.

“I hate you,” Carlos says.

“Hard same,” Oscar says.

“Hey.” Guanyu grins like this entire situation is wildly hilarious. Maybe it is, for everyone else. Oscar kinda wants to jump into the sea, but Carlos will only drag him down, their uncoordinated conjoined limbs tangled and thrashing. “You guys asked me to choose. Look, don’t you want to see pandas?”

Carlos makes some sort of shocked noise. Oh, for the love of—Oscar groans. He knows when someone’s just bought something.

“Carlos wants to see pandas,” Guanyu says, sounding far too delighted. “Chengdu’s like a fourteen-hour drive from Lijiang, that’s totally doable.”

They stare at him blankly.

“Oh my god. Chengdu, you know? Research base for giant panda breeding? Panda capital of China?”

Twiddle-Dum and Twiddle-Dee: “Ohhhhh.”

“Yeah, now you got it. In between, you can hit a dozen other places and never grow bored.” Guanyu taps his finger along the map, tick, tick, tick. “So why not? Complete the journey. Transform into Julia Roberts.”

“And break the curse,” Carlos says solemnly.

“Break the curse,” Oscar repeats miserably, but with his left hand, goes to look up flight tickets on his phone.

--

They discover that the only way they can pull on extra layers is if they yank themselves apart with all their might, creating just a sliver of space between their elbows. It’s painful. Oscar never wants to have to do this again.

“Now,” Carlos yells, and in a flurry of movement Oscar gets his coat on before their elbows snap back together.

Ow, ow. Oscar’s eyes are watering. He suspects Carlos’s is doing just the same.

“Okay, okay,” Oscar says. “Now your turn.”

Carlos waves him off. “I’m not cold.”

Oscar opens his mouth to argue, but Carlos is already dragging them off toward a sign with a car on it. The rental cars are left-hand steering, and it dawns on both of them at the exact time that Oscar will be doing all the driving, with the way they’re stuck to each other.

“No fair,” Carlos moans, as Oscar fist pumps the air. It would be too childish to stick his tongue out at Carlos. So he doesn’t.

A part of Oscar’s a spectator to all of this. Watching with his mouth hanging wide open, some disembodied shade looking from outside in, as his own body purchased tickets, packed a luggage (with Carlos in the same room), and boarded a plane. None of this makes sense. Getting into a car with Carlos, firstly. Then with the added condition that both of them have to clamber in from one side, before Carlos can climb over the middle console into the passenger seat. Fourteen hours of this, huh? He’s going to give Guanyu hell when they get back.

If, they make it back. Oscar guesses it’ll be two hours before they attempt to murder each other. You don’t go road tripping with people you can’t stand. It’s the one and only sacred rule of road tripping.

“I think I saw this in Final Destination.”

Oscar, zoned out staring at the road, manages a stupid, “What?”

“You know that pileup where everyone dies?”

“Everyone always dies in Final Destination.”

Carlos rolls his eyes, shakes their joined elbows for emphasis. “The scene where the logs fall off? A lot of screaming? A lot of swerving? All because they were stuck behind a logging truck?”

“Carlos.” Oscar takes one deep, deep calming breath. “Are you asking me to overtake?”

“If you can, yes,” Carlos says, like Oscar’s the one being thick. “Go on. I’ll help you hold the wheel steady.”

Oscar cranes his neck and glances around the side of the truck. The opposing lane seems clear, not a headlight in sight. What the heck. You can take the driver off a track, but he’ll still want to race.

“Woo!” Carlos yells, as Oscar zooms around the steadily plodding truck. A little clumsy, with Carlos almost overcompensating the steer as they merge back into the right lane, but successful, nonetheless. No one dies.

Mismatched hands on the wheel. Adrenaline spiking for just a few seconds of speed. Oscar finds himself wearing a grin to match Carlos’s. Maybe they’ll cut it down to thirteen and a half hours like this.

--

“Guanyu was right,” Carlos says thoughtfully.

Oscar’s got his nose buried in a helpful English guide. A sense of ambitious adventure appears to have overtaken them. He wants to hit at least three lookout points today. “About?”

“Look,” Carlos points in some vague direction. “All the couples.”

“Huh,” Oscar says. “That is a lot of couples.”

No one pays them any mind. They haven’t been recognized since they stepped foot here. For all intents and purposes, they could just be another one of those peaceful couples, milling about.

Well. Peaceful, would be a bit of a pipe dream.

“YOU CAN PLAY GOLF AT JADE DRAGON SNOW MOUNTAIN.”

“Carlos,” Oscar hisses. “Quiet.”

“You can play golf,” Carlos repeats, softer but no less excited, eyes larger than two sparkling coins, “at Jade Dragon Snow Mountain!”

Oscar snatches the guide back from Carlos’s hand. “I’m pretty sure I just read that the mountain’s considered holy.”

“They let people play golf on a holy mountain,” Carlos says for the third damn time. “I love it here.”

“We’re not playing golf,” Oscar says.

“Oscar,” Carlos says, dismayed.

“You have one hand, remember?” Oscar wriggles their stuck arms, a reminder he didn’t even know Carlos would have needed.

“Riiight,” Carlos says, shoulders drooping.

“We can still see the mountain though,” Oscar says, is alarmed at the tiny skip-hop going on in his chest when Carlos brightens again. Doesn’t take a lot to keep this guy happy. That’s, good for him. That’s good.

They decide the cable cars up are too much hassle, with the queues already stretching out for hours. The mountain’s basically viewable from anywhere, so Oscar steers Carlos toward Old Town. Where he discovers that Carlos is terrible at haggling. Absolute nightmare. He hands over money to anyone who so much as gestures him over. The singular tote bag Oscar brings starts to get filled with random trinkets, from fans to calligraphy pens.

“What’s this,” Oscar says, when Carlos shakes his head as Oscar prepares to pack away two wooden charms in the shape of a very rotund cat.

“Not for keeping,” Carlos explains. “They’re for wishes. We hang them up in the temple.”

“Oh,” Oscar says. Carlos had gotten one for him too. “I didn’t think you believed in these things.”

“I don’t,” Carlos says quickly, before looking away, like he’s afraid Oscar will laugh at him.

Oscar chews at his lip. He didn’t mean to suggest it was silly. It’s a little unfair for Carlos to think so lowly of him. If they could, this is where they’d walk their separate ways and browse different shops, long enough for the awkward tension to diffuse. Come back refreshed and recharged for more time spent in each other’s company. No such grace, here.

The stream whispers as it flows by the stone-paved path. The wooden house clusters look as if they’re linked, hand to hand, a never-ending line all the way to the top. Everything here’s older than Oscar, older by years and years and years.

“I keep an amulet in my helmet,” Carlos says. His eyes wander around like he’s sightseeing. “I don’t know why I lied.”

“A little belief can’t hurt,” Oscar blurts out, just so Carlos would stop looking so wounded. “That’s what I always say.”

Carlos nudges him. “You never say that.”

Above them, a thousand colorful prayer flags blow gently in the wind. Wooden charms as numerous as the birds adorn the roof of the temple. Wishes for health, prosperity, family. Oscar tries to peek at what Carlos is writing, only for Carlos to shove him away so violently that they both fall over.

Oscar laughs as Carlos strains to keep his charm out of prying reach. No easy task, both of them being joined and all.

May the new year bring surprises and joy. For my family and friends, good health always. For myself—

Oscar wrenches his gaze away. Some things aren’t for anyone else to know.

He watches Carlos hang his charm up carefully. And then Carlos waits, back turned as much as he can, for Oscar to write his own wish. It’s simple. Fast car, many wins. Happiness. Oscar ties his somewhere near Carlos’s. Closes his eyes and listens to them jangle together.

--

For myself, patience.

--

Oscar’s pretty sure he’s dying. He’s pretty sure this is what dying feels like.

“I thought,” he gasps, in between gulps of warm tea that only makes things infinitely worse, “I told her not spicy?”

Carlos is cackling like the unhelpful asshole he is. “This is not spicy.”

When you explore some place new, local recommendations for food are a must. Oscar’s seriously reconsidering Travel Tip 101 when he gets fed hotpot that turns his tongue worryingly numb.

“Well, it is a little spicy,” Carlos concedes. “But nothing I can’t take.”

“Isn’t Spanish food not spicy?”

“It’s not,” Carlos says. “Actually, I wasn’t good at taking spice until after I started driving.” He fans exaggeratedly at Oscar’s overheated mouth, like that could even help an iota. It’s so Carlos it’s endearing. Shit. “I only started putting hot sauce on all my trainer’s meals because everything tasted so bland.”

Oscar coughs, wiping at his leaking nose. “It burns,” he moans.

“There, there,” Carlos says, mock sympathetic. “Don’t cry.”

“Seriously.” Oscar blinks rapidly, is it affecting his eyeballs too? His pulse thuds like the hoofbeat of a runaway horse. “How are you not even sweating?”

Carlos winks at him. “They don’t call me chili for nothing.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Aw,” Carlos says, and finally puts himself to some use by waving down a server, and sweettalking her into bringing a pitcher of iced water over.

Oscar calls first dibs on the shower, claiming the need to wash the spice out of his pores. Carlos rolls his eyes but acquiesces, gallant about it for once. They force themselves not to make it awkward. Pull apart for just long enough to slip their clothes off, eyes everywhere but on each other. Carlos stands outside the curtain as Oscar tries to shampoo and soap himself down in the narrow tub with one hand.

When it's Carlos's turn: “Oh my god,” Oscar says. “Carlos, are you using soap for your hair?”

“I’m trying to be quick,” Carlos says, voice disembodied even though he’s right next to Oscar. Separated by the thinnest sheet of translucent nylon. The shadow of Carlos is unmistakable in the light. The broadness of his shoulders, the tapering of his waist. “So you do not stand outside for forty-five minutes like I did.”

“I didn’t take forty-five minutes!”

Carlos laughs, the cackle now almost familiar. “And how are you knowing I’m using soap? Are you peeking?”

“I hate you,” Oscar says, waits for Carlos to return with a Hard same like they’re in on the same joke. Waits and waits until Carlos emerges from behind the curtain, not fifteen minutes later, lips still sealed together like withholding some secret.

--

As designated shotgunner, with no say in the matter, Carlos is in charge of the GPS and the AUX cord. After the second album of Enrique Iglesias, Oscar relegates him to Captain of Pointing Out Exit Signs Only. Carlos pretends to pout about it, but he reclines his seat, as far back as their joined elbows will allow. Closes his eyes, limbs loose, all relaxed. He looks so good like that, when he’s as easy as easy can be.

Oscar swallows the click in his throat back down.

“I feel bad,” Carlos murmurs, sounding like he’s close to drifting off. “You’re doing all the work.”

“I don’t mind,” Oscar says. He’s getting real good at one-handed maneuvers now. Hah, maybe this will be beneficial on the track. “I hate getting driven. I rather do it myself.”

“Control freak,” Carlos says.

“Yeah,” Oscar admits. “A little bit.”

When Oscar dares to look over at Carlos, there’s a smile curving his lips gently up. They didn’t magically learn how to talk to each other. But it’s a start, trading little morsels of information like passing notes in school.

One of Guanyu’s other suggestions had been Emei Mountain, boasting an altitude of over three-thousand meters and some ridiculous number of stairs.

(Sixty thousand, to be precise. Oscar had opened his mouth to complain, but Guanyu had responded with a report of the monkeys that lived in the mountain. There came that dazed, excited noise from Carlos again, and Oscar knew it was a lost cause.)

Jet-lag’s working in their favour, and they’ve arrived before the tour buses can deposit too many people for them to stomach. Ambitions are dampened when they realize climbing’s harder when surgically joined by some unknown force at the elbow. When Oscar lifts his left leg, his right arm wants to go, which means Carlos’s left arm needs to go, which means Carlos’s right leg needs to lift. They clunk around clumsily for the first chunk of steps, griping and critiquing each other’s technique. The fog rolls in and laps at their ears, and for a while, there’s nothing much to see.

An elderly lady pressures them into an early lunch, and Carlos gives in effortlessly, like always. It ends up being the best thing Oscar’s eaten since coming here. They fight over the last slice of barbecue pork, and Oscar wins, by virtue of being slightly better at using chopsticks.

By the time they’re halfway up, they’ve got climbing down to an art, limbs moving like clockwork around the constriction. Carlos takes advantage of their newfound skill to increase their pace to a march.

“Carlos,” Oscar’s not ashamed to beg. “Please, won’t you stop and look at the monkeys.”

Carlos laughs at him and calls him slow. Because Carlos is crazy, he’s taken off his light sweater even in this weather, and the threadbare white shirt he’s wearing leaves little to imagination. Chest hair, nipples. Oscar looks away before he can be caught staring. The fog’s given way to some amazing views. Rich vegetation, more trees than Oscar’s brain knows what to do with. Beautiful things all around.

Carlos’s face swims into view. “Come on.” The tugging at the elbow doesn’t hurt as much as it did before. “To the top! There are giant golden statues!”

The statues are indeed golden. And they are indeed giant. The largest one weighs six hundred and sixty metric tons, according to the pamphlet. Larger, surely, than the feeling expanding in his lungs.

“Look, Oscar!” Carlos points with their joined arms, all delight.

“Yeah,” Oscar says. Quickened pulse from the strenuous activity, and he wills it to settle. Control freak. “I’m looking.”

--

Designated phone time on the bed is an hour long. Oscar uses it to text his mum, sift through photos from the day. With how close they’re forced to be, it’s hard to get a picture without a body part of Carlos making its way in. Oscar finds he doesn’t quite mind. He’s got one of the cloudless, blue sky, the backdrop for the Leidongping cable car station. Carlos is pointing at something again, his finger situated artistically right in the middle of the lidless eye of the sun.

Guanyu’s the one who got them into this mess, so he probably deserves a photo update. Oscar sends it over WhatsApp and receives an O-M-G!!! in return, along with nine panda emojis.

No pandas, we’re not at Chengdu yet, Oscar types.

Honestly, I’m surprised you even made it this far, Guanyu says.

Wow, thanks

Oscar squints, rereads Guanyu’s message.

Wait, you were the one who gave us this itinerary!

Hahaha, is all Guanyu says, followed by multiple peace sign emojis.

加油!

Oscar has to google translate that, learn that it means to add oil. To go for it. Go for what?

“Teto says he wishes he was here too,” Carlos says sleepily, looking up from his phone.

“Teto’s out of luck,” Oscar says, ignoring the flash of something hot and possessive down his spine.

He plucks Carlos’s phone out of his willing fingers. Reaches over Carlos for the pull chain of the lamp. Beneath him for just a second, Carlos shifts, comfortable, cozy. Oscar gets the ludicrous notion that if he were to collapse down, right now, Carlos’s body would welcome him.

Shit. How long until they come apart?

Click, off go the lights. Meekly, Oscar makes his way back to his designated side of the bed. Carlos mumbles a soft Good night. More intimate than he could ever mean. Oscar mumbles something back, and satisfied, Carlos closes his eyes. He likes sleeping on his side. Coincidences of coincidences, so does Oscar. Carlos falls asleep faster though, and it gives Oscar a lot of time to stare without accusation. Trace the planes and slopes of Carlos’s face before he drifts off himself.

--

At long last. Chengdu panda base.

After jostling with the crowds to watch the pandas tumble around for their food, then tumble around to play, then tumble around to sleep, Oscar turns to Carlos.

“Well?”

“Eh,” Carlos makes a see-saw motion with his hands. “It’s a little anti-climatic.”

Oscar barks out a laugh. A joined body part, three shared showers, thirteen and a half hours in a car together later, and Carlos still surprises him. He really doesn’t do Oscar well on a neurochemical level.

“Isn’t this what you came here for?”

“I thought it was,” Carlos says. It’s no longer only their elbows touching. Now it’s bicep to little pinky, pressed up against each other like puzzle pieces which fit slightly crooked. One long, unbroken line of heat. “I thought—”

Carlos tapers off. Oscar waits.

“Well, it’s the journey that counts, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“They’re very cute, too.”

“Uh huh,” Oscar says. “Pictures or Guanyu’s never going to believe we made it here.”

Oscar takes one of Carlos with a sleeping mama panda in the background. He’s halfway through checking if it’s any good when Carlos grabs the phone.

“Come here,” he says.

It’s not easy arranging themselves together and catching a panda as well, but heck, didn’t they climb sixty-thousand stairs with some careful coordination? Carlos holds out the phone with his right hand, smooshes their cheeks together. The scrap of Carlos’s stubble against his skin—that’s, there’s a new sensation, in every way possible.

“Say panda,” Carlos says.

“Panda,” Oscar says, the same way he would say, Alert, or Danger, or Abort. His cheeks are going to show up pink in the photo. And Carlos will notice and say something completely asinine—

“Hee hee,” Carlos says. “Your eyes are closed, Oscar.”

--

Once they get enough panda souvenirs to shower the grid, the rest of the day passes in the laziest of fashions. They’ve hit their goal now, so there’s no need to rush. Oscar actually bothers to look through Yelp for restaurant options, and after all his hard work, gets yanked by Carlos into some random alleyway with plastic stools to eat hand-pulled noodles.

Meandering like leaves on an easy stream down the folk and culture street, the promise of a hot shower eventually calls to them. Oscar, gentleman that he is, lets Carlos go first.

Oscar stares unblinkingly at a water spot on a tile as Carlos hums and soap himself, as easy and as relaxed as if he weren’t stuck with Oscar listening to the way the water hits his skin. The first time in the shower, when Oscar had unwittingly brushed his hands over his dick, he’d jumped, then stood still for a whole minute, waiting for Carlos to call him out on it. It’d felt forbidden, with Carlos standing not two inches away.

To Carlos’s credit, he doesn’t punch Oscar when the curtain is pulled back, with a force that can only be described as resolution. He only yelps like a little pup, clapping his free hand over his chest, before the hand trails self-consciously down.

“I’ll help you shampoo,” Oscar says. “It’s faster this way.”

“Well,” Carlos says, “if it’s faster.”

They’re staying at the Shang this time, and there’s fancy shampoo smelling like bergamot and orange. Oscar douses Carlos with half a bottle, squeezing too much out by accident. He keeps bumping his hand into Carlos’s while they attempt to scrub. The lather gets into Carlos’s eyes, and Oscar has to try and hide his smile while Carlos whines piteously. It’s not actually faster in any way.

“There, there,” Oscar says, in a similar tone as to when Carlos had observed Oscar leaking copious fluids over hotpot. “Baby.”

Carlos makes a face and pretends to start crying again, and something terribly fond constricts the entirety of Oscar’s ribcage.

Towelling each other dry is a whole new learning curve, just like putting clothes on, and driving one-handed, and climbing stairs. They’re looking at each other this time, too. That’s also new. Huh. Carlos is very, very gentle as he dries the back of Oscar’s ears. The kind of gentle that speaks of someone having done this for him before, resulting in an insistence in getting this right. Oscar gets all warm, even with the water cooling rapidly on his skin.

“Phone time?”

“No need,” Carlos yawns.

It’s Carlos that leans over this time for the light switch, even though Shang’s posh enough to have light switches at both sides for easy access. Carlos hovers over Oscar for a suspended moment, and Oscar sucks in a breath, straining with anticipation. The head pat is unexpected, but enough for now.

Satisfied, Oscar closes his eyes.

--

“Hey!” Carlos exclaims. “Oscar, we’re free!”

“Whuh,” Oscar says blearily. He’ll never acquire Carlos’s habit of waking up at eight.

“Look, look,” Carlos says, all childish delight. He waves his arms in front of Oscar’s face. Both his arms.

“Hey!” Oscar says, shooting up, suddenly awake.

“Yeah!”

“So all we needed was a shower?”

“Oscar,” Carlos says disapprovingly. “It wasn’t just a shower. We wrote this on prayer cards.” Oscar doesn’t point out neither of them wrote this on a prayer card. “We climbed a mountain. We saw pandas!”

“And took a shower,” Oscar says.

Carlos sniffs. “Have it your way.”

“Fine, fine,” Oscar says. It’s too early to be feeling all warm and crumbly, like the center of a freshly baked pie. “It was the journey that counts, yes?”

“Yes,” Carlos nods. “Maybe. Maybe it was something I—we had to learn. In preparation for. For—”

May the new year bring surprises and joy. For myself, patience.

Their hands are no longer joined, but Oscar takes Carlos’s, and presses a quick, dry kiss to the backs of his knuckles. Carlos is so surprised he lets him.

“Ah,” Carlos says, voice trembly and a little hopeful. “What happens now?”

Oscar looks down at their hands. Going through all of this to separate, only to choose to stay touching. There’s something about a journey being full circle, but Oscar doesn’t want to finish that thought for fear of actually transforming into Julia Roberts. And anyway—

“Now we drive back.”

They’re not near done, yet.

[brb-on-a-quest]

The Toxic relationship between America and England As Told by Me Which Will Have Many Questionable Oversimplifications Due To the Lack of Time I Currently Have Before My Last Final Paper For A Different Class is Due: a story told by me. Tagging @igotthisaccountunderduress bc she asked for this specifically and now must suffer the consequences

Source: My history notes and a chat where I have infodumped all this to my best friend who has somehow still put up with all of my ramblings. If people would like I can and will make a series out of this with more actual research because Damn History is so much more interesting when it's not for the grade and stress and finals (like I love the tea, love the reciepts, but to memorize all of it on top of other things? *stress ensues*

((Under cut))

There was a war. There have been many wars. But during this period of like literally forever ago England, Spain, and France really just couldn't stop bickering at each other like siblings. This became more problematic when Spain started getting Colonies in this New World after the whole Christopher Columbus shenanigans (Fun fact: Isabel and Ferdinand really only sponsored like 20% or 30% of Columbus' original costs; Columbus still had to like find the other major chunk of it through sponsorships and donations). But anyway Columbus Task Failed Successfully and discovers Not India/Spice Islands but ~a whole new world~ (so many more shenanigans with that Columbus had to straight up lie to his crew multiple times to stop mutinies from happening I want to read his diaries at some point bc the more things I hear the more intrigued I get). But anyway Spain gets a lot of shiny new income in plenty of resources, spices, diseases, tomatoes, chocolate, etc.

England and France get jealous. France is like "omg I want some" and they go to Not The Spice Islands via the fabled "Northwest Passage" and get to canada and make bank off fur trading. England however in true Chaotic Sibling Fashion originally goes "why would I need to go over to America when I can just steal from France and Spain"

and thus PIRACYYYYYYY yo ho ho ho and a bottle of rum for meeeee

Spain and France are (unsurprisingly) Not Cool with this whole "sharing is caring" attitude of England and again more wars start. England in the meantime decides it wants to get its stuff together and allows the prototypes of corporations called Joint Stock Companies (basically a bunch of people would share the risks and the reward of running a business) that lead to the Virginia Colony. There were also people who were cashing in royal debts in exchange for land in the new world (the Calverts who started Maryland who wanted to Bring Back The Feudal system and that went so well for them *cough cough*/sarcasm) and a bunch of people who wanted to ability to Practice Their Religion Better than Other People (there was religious persecution when Queen Elizabeth was reigning during the Great Migration of people to America but from my understanding it was more like she didn't care what you did if you were loyal to England but also that is literally only from my professor and I have heard conflicting stories with other professors soooooo take this with a heavy grain of salt).

Anyway now with income coming in from the Americas both Spain and France and England are doing relatively well for themselves. And then guess what happens. Ah yes, more jealous and fighting. In this case, it's over the Ohio Valley Area because both countries wanted to expand their holdings in the new World. Basically this area touched Canada and France is like "C’est à moi" and England's like "GET YOUR TOASTY BAGUETTES AWAY FROM MY LAND" This leads to what we call here the French and Indian War (also called the Seven Years War in Europe I think, a lot of wars have American Names vs European names). Despite being called "The French and Indian War" here, it was fought by England and their Indian Allies and French and their Indian allies. England wins but at what cost?

The cost is money. It's always money. Now everyone has super heavy debt as a sum of like four(five?) wars that are fought in this period of time. England is now trying to raise funds to help get themselves out of the mess they put themselves into. Their solution: make America Pay Rent. Kind of a "we fought this war for *you* actually now give us money for it.

Note: they were only trying to raise part of the money for it via Direct Taxes which are taxes added on top of the price (which btdubs they were paying taxes to England already they were pay just English Version of Taxes which are built into the price so you don't know how much if it is taxes. They were fine with that. They just didn't want extra taxes. So this made them reevaluate their whole relationship with England. It didn't also help that England was starting to revoke some of the major perks like support past the appalachian mountain range, and among other things).

this tulmultuous period can be summed up with (an overgeneralization):

England: *tries to control America over much by being like 'you have to pay taxes on this this and this*

America: fine *just doesn't buy anything from England period until England recants and is like fine you don't have to pay this tax*

England: *plays the jealous girlfriend card* "you can only trade with England!!! No one else!!!

America, the two-timer: *increases smuggling* Also radical terrorists//the sons of liberty start crying for independence (Takes a Long Time For anyone to Listen to them Because Why Would They Rebellion is a stupid idea)

The East India Company thing was such a whole thing that kinda highlights this to an extreme. East India Company was part of the joint stock company that was about to go under because they had taken loans from like literally almost every bank in England. Which if they failed would be REALLY bad news for England. So in an attempt to lower cost, England told East India company that they could bring their tea from india to America directly instead of having to go through british ports as was custom. America took one look at the now So much Cheaper Tea and was like "mmmm sus" and didn't buy it in favor of dutch tea so RIP east India Company. Also Terrorist Group from before burned several of the ships while being disguised as Indians (no one was buying it) and that's what we call the boston tea party. England shut down Boston as they should and basically war ideas were spreading really quickly through new england and further onward (south was less so but they came around).

Anyway. I realize this comes off as very-anti American and it's really not meant to be, both countries were really annoying to each other throughout this whole process. But yeh then theirs gunshots and a declaration of independence and then we barely win by the skin of our teeth (that's mainly bc british merchants were like stop this we can't make money if you're fighting with our best customers at the end) and things get only stranger from there. First modern Democratic Republic so things were bound to get...very wonky.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally getting help (prt 4)

Masterpost

The bats worked through the night, coordinating and researching everything that needed to be done. Distortion showed up on the camera which they assumed was Vlad trying to get in but he didn’t manage it. After he finished trying from multiple angels including somehow from directly above (well Zatana did say invisibility, intangibility, and flight were the minimal powers they should expect from creatures of the infinite realms.) He turned human again and spent a long time banging on their front door.

He tried to call the cops but commissioner Gordon called Bruce directly to get the full story then told Vlad it could be dealt with in the morning. Zatana was also coordinating people heading to Amity, a full on raid of the GIW, and the Fentons.

Batman and Superman were collecting all the information that the raid team was sending out and workshopping public statements they could sent out to the public and the government about the unacceptable things they had found and the steps the JL was taking to fix it. The government was not going to be happy they knew, with the JL ‘over-stepping’ into their business and actually getting the word out about the atrocities a branch of their government and their pet scientists had been planning. The JL needed to get out ahead of it before the narrative could be twisted against them.

It was first thing in the morning when they did a live broadcast from the watchtower with Batman, Superman, and Zatana telling the world about the parallel world existing harmlessly along side their own, and the way the government tried to exploit it. The atrocities committed under the name of the Anti-Ecto acts with the ignorance of the public as a cover.

It was at the same time that Constantine, Dick, and Cas were raiding the Fenton’s home. Of course they were armed, but so were the bats, and they were used to fighting people who were armed. It wasn’t a particularly hard fight.

A redhead was sitting wide eyed at the kitchen table. “Can’t we just have one normal day!” She suddenly snapped but she was glaring at her parents, standing up and slamming her hands on the table.  “First you send Danny away with Vlad even though you KNOW they hate each other and it’s a school day and now this! What did you do to bring the heroes down on us!?”

“I don’t know Jazzybear!” Jack half whined as he was forced into power supressing cuffs to neutralize his minor super strength and sat down in the living room.

“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding, don’t worry sweetie,” Maddie added, both of them were dressed in jump suits which did not help their supervillain vibes.

“it’s not a mistake mate, you’ve been messing with shit you really shouldn’t. And that portal in your basement is a fucking beacon welcoming a war. You’ve gone unchecked for too god damn long, we’re taking over things now.” Constantine told them before stalking down into the basement with Tim on his heels, Batman would be joining them as soon as they were done their press conference.

Cas stayed to watch the parents and Dick approached Jazz gently. “Hey can I talk to you in private please? It’s about your brother,” He said gently and she stiffened immediately. Looking at him in a way that made him feel like she could see straight into his soul and froze him to the spot. After a moment though she just sighed and nodded, beckoning to him to follow her upstairs, to a room that was probably Danny’s not her own. She sat on his bed and grabbed a bear that had been sitting on the edge, waving for him to sit at the desk.

“So, what do you know?” She asked with a sigh.

“Well, last night Vlad took Danny to a Wayne Gala, one of Bruce’s daughter Cas is really good with body language and clocked that something was wrong so she and one of the other kids got him away from Vlad and out of the party. I guess he really needed some adult support because he broke down and told them a lot, about the Phantom thing, the ghosts and… something you’re not going to like. But first I want you to know he’s safe, Bruce Wayne is a licensed foster parent and he’s taking good care of Danny, you can come live with them too if you want.

“We’re going to deal with the ghosts and the GIW and everything else now, I can’t promise by the end of this you won’t need somewhere else to go. I have a feeling if Batman and the Martian family have anything to say about this your parents will end up in prison for their unethical experiments.”

“As long as Danny is okay,” Jazz said firmly. “I was only staying to take care of him anyway, just get me emancipated and a scholarship for Gotham U so I can study while still being close to him I’ll be fine. I’m almost 18 as it is.”

Dick nodded, she was a smart and driven girl, she knew what she wanted, he could respect that. “Now, the thing you won’t like…” he trailed off and took a deep breath. “Danny is pregnant.”

“What!?“ Jazz blanched, gaping at him for a long minute. “That can’t be right! I mean I knew he was trans but he’s usually only interested in girls, how would he even-“ She cut off her eyes widening. “It was Vlad wasn’t it?” She gritted out with an expression the promised excruciating violence.

“Yes,” Dick said shifting awkwardly in his chair.

“Right.” Jazz said and got up, coldly calm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” She grabbed a baseball bat from next to Danny’s bed that seemed to be glowing slightly then marched to the other side of the room, opened a cabinet and pulled out two odd looking guns. Before Dick could say much of anything she had vaulted out of the window and taking off down the street.

“Oh dear,” Dick muttered faintly before heading back downstairs. “Hey Cas can we turn on the news, some sort of local station?” He asked. Cas nodded and searched around for the remote, turning it on to find the channel was already on local news.

Vlad was already on there, talking about how it was awful Bruce Wayne had Kidnapped a local child Danial Fenton, and he could not be allowed to get away with this just because he was rich! But that didn’t last long, they watched for a few minutes before a blur of red hair and blue rushed past the camera.

“YOU TOUCHED MY BROTHER YOU CREEP!” Jazz said as she came out swinging and she must have quite the arm because her first swing sent him nearly flying off the stage. He scrambled to get up as she lunged at him again.

“Now Jasmine you’ve clearly been misinformed, I didn’t do anything-“ His muffled voice was cut off as she swung the bat again and he yelped as she hit him in the stomach.

“YOU GOT HIM PREGNANT! YOU DID THIS! YOU SHOULD BEHIND BARS NOT BEHIND A PODIUM YOU FROOTLOOP!” She shrieked as she swung again and this time he managed to dodge. The cameras following them as Jazz chased him down the street, the sound of his supplications and her shrieking fading out as they became more and more distant.

It took a frantic moment for the camera angle to switch to something else, maybe a drone, which was able to follow them down the street.

“You Don’t UNDERSTAND! I didn’t want to hurt him! I just wanted a perfect son! If he had just agreed to be my son none of this would have happened! When I knew it failed I told him to let them die!” Vlad yelled at her, though that did NOT seem to comfort Jazz at all. She had devolved into shrieking book titles like curses as she chased him with the bat and shot at him with the guns though her aim didn’t seem very good.

Well they had him admitting to it on camera now. As he watched a new actor joined the fray, a girl in a red jumpsuit holding a blaster.

“You did what to Danny!?” She demanded as she pointed the blaster at Vlad.

“Oh cheespuffs!” Vlad breathed, his eyes widening as Jazz trailed off letting who must be Red Huntress take over the chase as Vlad shouted about how he had made her! He had given her her weapons she couldn’t use them against him! Which did not seem to be stopping her.

The camera fuzzed out for just a second and then Valery was chasing a ghost with red eyes and a white outfit. Cas was laughing silently at the show and both of the Fenton parents seemed to be in shock. A few minutes later Jazz walked back in through the front door looking tired.

“Turn that off please,” she sighed as she put the bat down.

“Of course,” Cas agreed and picked up the remote again, turning off the tv. 

“Vlad didn’t actually do that, did he Jazzy?” Jack asked softly, he sounded so hurt, as if he had any fucking right!

Jazz looked at him blankly. “How many times have we tried to warn you about him? How many times has Danny told you he didn’t feel safe with Vlad? But as usual you couldn’t see past your own desires. I’m going to go see if the trenchcoat guy needs any help getting into your files,” She sighed before vanishing downstairs. 

Dick glanced at Cas, and then followed them, she would have no trouble watching the Fentons and staying quiet whereas Dick felt like he was about to explode. Batman joined them before long and between the three of them they shut the bulkheads on the portal and locked them, secured dangerous chemicals and devices, and downloaded everything they could. There were plenty of prototypes and blueprints, and stuff that could generously be called research.

It was obvious these people were geniuses but it was even more obvious that at some point they had become careless and obsessive. Half of the writing on the blueprints wasn’t legible, dangerous chemicals were not in proper containment, and the weapons were not locked up. Looking at all of this it wasn’t surprising that two of the people they had been involving in their research suffered exposure, it was a surprise more hadn’t. It was easy to tell when Bruce came down he was horrified, it was in the way he froze when he saw the lab, as if his brain was struggling to process just how irresponsible the Fenton parents had been.

“You must be Jazz, it’s nice to meet you. Danny speaks highly of you,” He finally rebooted to say when she waved at him. 

“I love my little brother, I always did the best I could to keep him safe from… all this,” Jazz said gesturing at the lab with a sigh. “I wish it had done any good.”

“You did plenty of good,” Dick put in. “Trust me, to a kid having someone care about them can make all the difference. 

“All those nights I patched him up after he came back from fighting ghosts. He healed fast but still. I can’t believe… he’s already been through so much and we knew Vlad was up to something! Ellie said she was our cousin but she looked just like him, I should have kept a closer eye on-” She cut off and shook her head. “He’s a good kid, of course if he couldn’t give the babies up, even if it would be better for them if he did. I hope he knows I’d support him either way, I hope he didn’t not tell me because he thought I’d be upset at Him.”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Dick assured her gently. “Being a big sibling is hard, I know. But trust me you’re doing a great job, better than I did with my brothers,” he said, patting her shoulder. “You can ask him yourself later though. We have a lot to get done today to make sure he’s safe.”

She nodded stubbornly and doubled down on her work, directing them occasionally to where she knew they’d find more weapons or logs. She knew her way around the lab to a disturbing extent. 

Bruce and Dick both got a notification from Agent A saying that after a substantial sleep in Danny had woken up and was having breakfast. He seemed worried about the family but he was taking it alright, especially since he knew they were busy people. It did motivate Dick to clear things up as soon as they could so that they could get back to Danny though. The last thing he needed was More stress!

They had plenty of evidence of the Fenton parents breaking the law to call the police and have them taken away which gave them all the time they needed to strip the house. They got everything they could and decided to leave Constantine at the house to watch the portal until they could figure out how to shut it down completely without causing any damage. It seemed unstable so they didn’t want to risk it just now, especially without Danny’s input because according to Jazz Danny had made genuine connections in the Infinite Realms. 

They wrapped up this stage of the investigation before dinner after being up for about 36 hours. Of course they weren’t Done, there was still plenty to do investigating the government, how they’d gotten away with this and if they had any other nasty tricks up their sleeve. They’d have to manage any backlash from this unilateral move, and they’d have to figure out what to tell the public about Danny since Bruce would be fostering him. But all that could be done after having a family dinner with their new brother and a nap. 

part 5

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[obsessivevoidkitten]

Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Male Yandere Human-like Golem x Gender Neutral Human Reader (CW: Noncon, huge dick, golem man, magic, fatal violence towards bandits, spit used as lube, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.8k (Sorry this took forever, was originally going to be a drabble and then kinda got away from me, hope you all enjoy huge dick golem man.)

The small town that you lived in, Somnheim, had been victim to a swathe of horrible luck. Raided by bandits, packs of beasts killing livestock, and enemy soldiers scavenging what they could. Finally the town had enough and sent for a practitioner of the magic arts to aid them in the defense of their village.

This was you.

They didn’t have much but they offered a home and food for your services. You figured you could help them and have a quiet place to conduct your research away from the prying eyes of the council, who liked to hold newer mages under their thumb. It would also just be something nice you could do for your fellow humans, and these folks clearly needed the help.

You didn’t want to stay in this place forever though, so your solution would have to be one that would last long after you were gone.

Given your expertise in summoning and animating the logical choice was a good, old fashioned, golem. A pentagram, some select incense, clay flesh molded to a slate skeleton and imbued with an amethyst heart carrying an artificial soul, some runes carved in, and a scroll inserted that would have him follow his purpose and give him personality.

Then just add in a spell that turned the humanoid clay man into something more human so as not to frighten the villagers too badly and make him able to experience a near human existence.

The ritual was a complete success. Of course it was. You were you after all, young but talented and more importantly utterly dedicated to your craft.

Somnheim now had a mighty protector. An artificial man over 9 feet tall, with huge bulging muscles, shaggy brown hair, stoic brown eyes that gave nothing away, and glowing green runes on his arms and legs. The spell that made him human-like was more than just visual, it gave him nearly all the functions of a human male, he’d be as durable and strong as the hardest metal, never age, and of course he was certainly infertile.

Not one for creative names, you named him Slate.

Eventually bandits came by and decided they would stock up in Somnheim before going on to bigger and better loot.

They did not live to regret that decision.

Slate simply rolled a massive boulder down the hill they approached from and flattened all but a couple. Those he took care of quickly with magically precise throws of average sized stones.

Over the months any threat he couldn’t flatten with a boulder or smack with a stone he would pop open with his mighty fists.

By the end of his first year as the village’s guardian he was beloved by every single townsperson. Even the tiny children, who would climb on him and put flowers in his shaggy hair as he smiled and watched, had no fear of him.

You had enjoyed your time there, but eventually it was time for a change of scenery. You wanted to do more field research and you had saved enough money up with side projects to be able to fund a trip to the other side of the country near The Great Forest.

The villagers were grateful and sad to see you go, but they were much more interested in Slate than you.

But when you packed your bags to leave behind your wattle and daub dwelling once and for all you found yourself blocked by Slate.

He uttered one word in that deep, almost monotone, voice of his.

“No.”

“What do you mean no? I have to leave.” You tried to squeeze past him but he was not having it.

“I must protect the village… Your presence here makes the village safer… I might need repairs… or reinforcements… And you also tasked me with keeping you safe…”

You fudged the wording. You, breather of life into stone, weaver of clay, and creator of souls, messed up the wording.

He picked you up like a box of luggage and sat you on a chair in your makeshift study before going over to the heaviest bookshelf, picking it up, and placing it in front of the only door so you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll move it when I need to leave… then I will put a rock outside to keep you here…”

And that became your life. A literal prisoner in your own home.

Your magical abilities were useless in this situation, you were not a battlemage that could explode a wall, you couldn’t teleport, you bent earth.

Of course you tried to tunnel your way out by making a hole under your bed, but Slate had walked in and caught you red handed. He had confiscated and locked away all your magical supplies and texts unless you needed them to repair him you were not getting them back.

Slate was tentative enough of your physical needs, bringing you food and water and taking you outside like some sort of pet for sunlight, fresh air, and exercise. You had tried to run away but of course he had inhuman speed. And the villagers refused to help. What if Slate refused to save them if they did that?

It was a fair concern, he was made to protect the village and not villagers, he may even see them as a threat if they assisted you. You were on your own.

Though you were healthy enough physically your mental condition was deteriorating rapidly. How could you not be? Being trapped in the same building, even with trips outside, was awful. The villagers only looked at you with pity if they looked at you at all, and no one would even talk to you anymore.

It got to the point where you barely eat, refused to go outside, and spent all your time laying in bed.

Slate was failing the magical directives that governed his personality and behavior. You were clearly not safe, he was convinced that you would die if this continued, and honestly you likely would… eventually…

But the golem was not incapable of learning. He observed the other humans to find out what he could add to your life to bring you back to your usual self.

One night, when he was sitting in front of the house watching the humans passing by and holding hands, he came to the conclusion that humans had families, they lived together in their dwellings and they loved each other. They coupled together and mated.

Up until this point Slate had only been directed by simple emotion and the unyielding parchment that had imbued him with his goals. But now his task demanded something more of him, it demanded a much more complex emotion. The magic in him allowed this evolution, and now he was much more dangerous because he loved you. But it wasn’t just love he felt for the first time, it was lust.

Slate’s expression became one of someone thinking about the one who they adored infinitely, an expression of a man thinking about the person he wanted to have writhing in pleasure beneath him, even his normally green runes and brown eyes took on an amorous pink glow.

When you heard the boulder blocking the door shift and then heard the bookshelf take its place as what was blocking your way out as Slate came lumbering in with his heavy steps you didn’t even glance up.

Not until he stood in front of you and you noticed his strange pink glow replacing his green one did you stir.

You sat up in bed and when you saw the strange way his normally near emotionless eyes were staring at you, and glowing, you scooted away.

“I know what you need now! I am so sorry for not realizing sooner…” He said in a surprisingly soothing tone, a stark departure from his normally deep monotone.

“What do yo-”

Your words were forgotten as he took off his shirt and pants revealing a sweaty body and a frighteningly large cock.

“You need a partner to be happy, like the other humans, and you need to mate!”

He sounded very eager.

“No! Uh… I don’t need to… mate. I need to lea-” he put a large finger over your lips and shushed you before gripping your pants and peeling them and your underwear away from you carefully.

There was no dissuading him from his chosen course of action, he would make you happy and keep you safe no matter what!

It’s what you needed.

Slate leaned forward and spit all over your hole, thoroughly lubing it with his spit, before pressing his big cock into your hole.

It was so large that you let out a whimper of pain at first, but he was somehow knowledgeable enough about sex to know he needed to let you adjust to the size rather than just ramming himself in.

You gasped and writhed but he held you still with his massive hands running up and down your sides as he slowly pulled you down on his prick.

Slate was in complete heaven, he had never really known much pleasure of any kind, let alone the type that came with burying his cock in someone he was now completely obsessed with.

He had no idea his dick could be used for this at all, but now that he did he would certainly be doing this everyday, maybe even a couple times a day! The perfect blend of heat and softness was amazing.

As he began to thrust slowly, with a blissed out expression as he stared up at nothing with drool coming out of his mouth, you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure as his cock caressed your depths perfectly.

Hearing your breathy moans snapped him back to reality. You were finally happy again~

The treatment was working! That settled it, he would do this every single day no matter what!

Carefully gripping your sides a bit more firmly he moved your entire body back and forth on his cock. You couldn’t help it, your whole body twitched with the force of a massive orgasm. The sensation of your body spasming around his previously virgin dick caused him to slam in deep and cum hard.

He pulled you close, holding your head into his muscular chest as he panted, his dick still firmly impaling your limp body. You hadn’t been eating much and this serious fucking had taken a lot out of you.

Slate cleaned the two of you up, bathing you gently before taking advantage of your compliant state by spoon feeding you some dinner he had brought from a town person.

Mating with you made you so pleasured and too tired to resist him when he took care of you, he almost couldn’t wait until you had enough energy to do it again, his cock strained in his pants with anticipation.

[kiame-sama]

Do you think we can get a pt 3 to the yandere Lilia fic? I need to see how Lilia shows Reader that he's not a child at all 🥵🔥😈. Lilia, in my opinion, is one of those yanderes with breeding and babytrapping kink. He probably wants Silver to have lots of little siblings 🥰💖.

Many hugs from Argentina 🥰🤗💖

What Are You, Twelve? (Yandere!Lilia x Reader) Pt 3

Warnings: yandere, yandere behavior, yandere temper, Lilia's yandere side gets set loose for a little bit, Lilia snaps a little, vague self-depreciating behavior/talk, real talk from reader to Lilia, Crowley is uncomfortable, Silver is uncomfortable, gender neutral reader, implied adult scenarios,

~~~~~~~~

You sat in the Headmage's office with Lilia as he had dragged you to the less than pleased Headmage and demanded the man vouch for him. Lilia had gotten more than a little persistent in his attempts to make you acknowledge his age as anything above twelve. From making other students and even teachers talk about his age, to being a bit more adult in his behavior, Lilia has tried tirelessly to convince you.

Little did Lilia know, you were actually starting to believe him. Ever since you saw the photo album with Silver, you had actually begun to believe Lilia was older than he looked, but you were hoping that continued feigned ignorance would eventually make him give up.

It was one thing when you thought Lilia was a child saying all of these salacious things to you, it is another entirely to know Lilia was centuries old and still doing this. Even as the Headmage vouched for Lilia's age over a cup of tea with the two of you, you still wanted to deny accepting his age. In the time between Lilia's attempts to win you over, you had done some digging into Lilia's past and found yourself feeling rather bland when compared to the Fae.

Why would someone like him be so determined to chase someone like you?

"I don't know... This all seems like a big joke to me still."

"How? After all of this, how? Tell me, (Y/n). You are not a dumb child of man by any means, I know that much. How can you not believe even after all of this?"

His tone was almost pained and you actually felt compelled to be honest with him despite how upset it may make him. He had been trying very hard to get you to see him as more than a child and in some regards you felt badly for making him so distraught and stressed. Granted, he was being quite obsessive and inappropriate with his conversations towards you, but this charade has gone on long enough.

"Truthfully, Lilia," you crossed your legs, trying to hold the Fae's gaze, "the simple power of willful ignorance. I figured you were being serious after Silver embarrassed himself with that photo album. He is a little lost most days, but he is no liar, even at your behest."

"So you were just teasing me this whole time. I can forgive playful or coy behavior, but this?"

"Not the whole time, no. I genuinely thought you were a child up until Silver showed me the photo album. After Silver talked to me, I decided to do some research... into you. Lilia, you do see it, don't you? I'm... not enough for you, and I likely never will be. I'm human and magicless. You're... You. Malleus showed me that you're even in our history books, for goodness sakes. I can't be any more Fae than you can be Human, so-"

The sudden sound of porcelain crunching cut you off in a sharp and jarring way, hearing the pieces crinkling to the floor in the silence that followed. You were stunned as you stared at Lilia's hand, the blood slowly dripping down from where he crushed the cup of tea he had been drinking. Even the Headmage didn't know how to react to the sudden and uncharacteristic behavior.

Lilia was silent for a long moment before he spoke and his voice chilled your very blood. Typically the cherub-faced Fae was excitable and had a certain bounce to his tone and step, almost playing up the child-like features of his. All of that life and tone was gone from his voice and it left a near monotone voice that held all too much venom for how little rage it carried.

"Say another word, and I will come completely unhinged, (Y/n). You have done plenty of talking thus far, now it is time for you to listen." He stood from his chair and began walking towards you, that same look on his face that spoke of horrors beyond his years, "I pride myself in being slow to anger and being quite the trickster in my own right. Startling people is a hobby of mine as is playing the cute school-boy persona as much as I can, but I am a father and have seen many human lifetimes."

Lilia stood in front of you now, making you suddenly feel so very small before the odd being. It really hadn't occurred to you before that moment what others meant when they said Lilia could be intimidating or even downright frightening when he wanted to be. It somewhat made you feel like you were being scolded by a figure of authority, bringing you to lower your head and refuse to meet the gaze of the suddenly intense Fae. He didn't like this and used one hand to tilt your head back so you could stare at him with wide eyes.

"You are one of the brightest and most fascinating humans I have had the pleasure of encountering in over three centuries. And here I have to listen to you talk about yourself as if you are just another face of the ever changing tapesty that makes up this school. Do you not see the things you do? The way you change the very atmosphere of a room with your presence. The way you befriend even the most enigmatic and temperamental of the student body..."

As he trailed off he seemed to become distracted with the way he held your chin, the slightest bit of warmth returning to his expression before it was gone again in an instant. When you thought he was a child it had been easy to talk to and face Lilia, despite his constant attempts at flirting he had still been a positive influence in your day. Now you wondered how you could really have been so naïve to think the wizened being before you was anything less than a centuries old enigma. He had been playing the sweet and bubbly school-boy adeptly and it fooled you all too well.

"So very frustrating to hear you've been playing coy, but- fortunately for you- it hasn't been too long of a game and I can't fault anyone for being less than forthcoming about themselves. I don't find myself chasing the children of men often, (Y/n). It is uncommon, but do you truly think that we Fae haven't figured out a way to lengthen the human life-span for those we have decided to keep? It is an unnatural life as humans aren't typically meant to live that long, but we still can do it."

You were unable to say much of anything to the Fae, feeling vaguely disturbed by the warm and slightly sticky feeling of his blood on his hand. He was not as bothered by it as you were and almost seemed to have forgotten that he has injured himself. The main thing other than intimidation that kept you quiet was the fact the usually affable Headmage had yet to say anything either. Crowley was usually the one to count on for a break in tenson but he didn't seem keen to interrupt the Diasomnia Vice-housewarden.

You couldn't blame him.

"You have no idea the things you do, but I can and will teach you if I must. Regardless, I've been quite patient and now I find myself wanting more than a bit of compensation for the emotional turmoil you've put me through. So, agree to go on a date with me and I will forgive the sleight against me and continue fostering my boundless patience with you."

A moment of silence passed and it was clear Lilia was waiting for you to say something. He seemed more than content staring at you expectantly for you to speak. The only indication of his waning patience was the way his hand moved from your chin to your neck.

"... Your hand is still bleeding."

This seemed to throw the Fae off for a moment as a kind of awareness returned to him, taking note of his injured hand on your throat. A moment of silence passed again as Lilia felt your racing heartbeat under his fingers, your pulse betraying your fear. He withdrew from you rather quickly upon feeling the physical evidence of your fear.

"To think I'm this worked up over something ultimately so trivial. You are such a unique child of man, (Y/n). You can get even my old heart stirring for the first time in a long time."

It was around this point Crowley finally spoke up, his voice pitched up ever so slightly which betrayed how uncomfortable he was in the situation. The other Fae had not expected Lilia of all students to become so enraged at your refusal. It only unsettled him further to witness the clear threat Lilia had made by putting his hand on your throat when you didn't respond to him the way he wanted.

"Well, now that is dealt with, is there any reason to continue this conversation in my office?"

"... No. No, there isn't. Is there? Not unless (Y/n) feels like trying to continue this charade."

You shook your head, trying to keep the surprisingly intimidating Fae calm. Now he knew you had been refusing him based on your own feelings of inadequacy, he could work on making you fall for him. The question was if he wanted to do this with the use of a spell, a love potion, or simply winning you over with his own charms.

~•§•~

"... Father, why is (Y/n) sleeping in your bed?"

"Because, Silver, your papa has finally managed to get what he wants from life."

"Please tell me you aren't talking about making them sit on your face?"

"Well, if you must know-"

"Nope. I don't need or want to know, actually. Forgive me for asking."

"... How do you feel about gaining a few siblings, Silver?"

[lizdive]

I saw your requests were open so, Could you make a dr ratio or Aventurine x reader who's a kid but very bossy and smart for their age? and ofc platonic!! :3

I did Veritas, but if you want an Aventurine version just tell me !! Requests may be closed but I can make an exception for this :3 Thank you for requesting and if you’re unsatisfied just tell me !!

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" used to refer to reader ,, reader is a child ,, reader is a child genius and from the genius society ,, reader is implied to be parentless / guardianless ,, platonic relationships ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ Really? You? A little kid? You’re the newest addition to the genius society? VERITAS feels like he’s being mocked by Nous at this point. Well, whatever. Not like he was going to interact with you or anything. He has no reason to do so.

⭑ You spot him walking outside your space and, assuming he was the one supposed to get you your lunch, yell out at him annoyance. He ignores you until you call him the purple haired one and then he realizes you’re talking to him.

⭑ You don’t even care that he’s not the one who was supposed to bring you your lunch as you boss him around, looking up at him as he gives you a flabbergasted and almost offended expression.

⭑ He tries to scold you but you just try your best to push him out of your space so he can get you your lunch. He goes eventually just to get it over with but he dislikes you now.

⭑ But it’s not like he can completely despise you, because you’re actually tolerable when you’re not bossing him — or anyone, really — around. You can hold up a pretty good and deep conversation for a child of your age and you’re willing to listen to others’ views (well, unless it’s about your personality.)

⭑ Soon enough, VERITAS actually finds himself warming up to you and vice versa. You’re a good kid. Bossy, sure, but he tries to blame it on you being a kid and not having anyone to properly guide you since you’re always busy with research. You’re influenced by those around you — it rare to find a researcher that actually cares about anything other than their research.

⭑ You both refuse to acknowledge it properly, but you both accept that maybe you both enjoy each others’ company.

⭑ VERITAS will help you out with your research, be it inventing something mechanical or creating something organic. If not physically helping you out, then supervising you and giving you ideas or suggestions.

⭑ Some of the researchers dread it when VERITAS comes to the space station because you both are insufferable together, especially when your goals align and suddenly there’s a silent agreement to help each other achieve that goal.

⭑ But at the end of the day, you’re a child. Which why whenever you act childish and immature, huffy or happy, VERITAS will do his best to be there for you. You’re young, and you didn’t have any support system before him.

⭑ He’ll try to be understanding — it’s hard for him since he’s used to being so focused on spreading knowledge and he has made people cry before without much comfort. But he’ll try, especially because you tend to seek him out for comfort. You trust him to comfort you and he’ll do his best to not disappoint.

⭑ He knows some kids burnout after time, and he doesn’t want that to happen to you, so he’ll make sure you don’t overdo it with your studies and research, as well as make sure you’re in a healthier environment. He’ll make sure that the researchers don’t put pressure on you — most of them are too busy shoving their noses in their own research however some of the researchers at the space station can be less than pleasant.

⭑ If you ever want to leave the station, VERITAS is more than willing and happy to take you with him. It’s a nice opportunity to expand your research and perhaps invest in another field. Also because it’ll give him the chance to take you out to some nice places and if you’re extra young, then maybe some fun play places and specific parks.

⭑ VERITAS wouldn’t mind having you give special lectures to his students if you ever told him you want to do so. He’ll stand to the side as you teach, getting you a stool for you to be able to write on the chalkboard.

⭑ Also, he’ll try to improve your bossy behavior. He doesn’t mind it too much as long as you’re not bossy to him, but he also knows that your bossy behavior can develop into an unhealthy need for control and he doesn’t want to risk it.

[roseghoul26]

Charles Smith x gn!Reader

"Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. 'Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.' He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. 'Yeah?' You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low." Synopsis: A brush with hypothermia forces you and Charles to camp out in an abandoned cabin. Having to resort to some more intimate means of survival, will you be able to keep your feelings in check for the hunter, or will the proximity force you to confess?

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hypothermia, Huddling for Warmth, yes this is a cuddle for warmth fic, idc if its cheesy, Oral Sex, Gender-Neutral Reader, Fem Anatomy for Reader, Face-Sitting, Love Confessions, but in a twist its not the reader who gets frozen, surprise!

Author's Note: listened to chappell roan the entire time while writing this (hence the title). i also got so distracted by stardew valley my addiction has returned also, there’s a moment where the reader touches charles’ hair. as a non-indigenous person, i’m not fully educated when it comes to hair and the importance it holds in native american culture. i did research, but i could still be wrong. if i have made any errors, please let me know, and i will change it. 

If you never had to see snow again, you’d die happy. 

Tightening the fur coat around your body, you tried to preserve what heat you had left in you. The cold air of Colter was like a leech, sucking you dry of any warmth and joy. And it wasn’t just affecting you, you noticed. Glancing around the room, everyone seemed to be in a similar situation, with as many furs and clothes on their bodies as they huddled around the laughably small fire. 

The gang had been in Colter for about a week, hiding away from the law after the disaster that was Blackwater. You don’t remember much from that day, most of it a blur in your memories, but you remember the bloodshed. Pointless, ruthless bloodshed. You hoped you’d never see something like that again. 

Shivering, you almost regretted giving your extra jacket to Abigail, who had wrapped it around Jack. You were only feet from the fire, but it might as well have been hundreds of miles away with the way it was doing nothing to warm you. With a huff, you rubbed your fingers together, simply sitting and passing the time until someone asked you to do something or you had to go back on guard duty. That was all you could do, really, the snow and remote location making it impossible for you to do your normal robbing and thieving. 

There were many times during this week that you’d debated leaving the gang after you all made it out of Colter. You’d only joined about a year and a half ago, Dutch personally inviting you to his group after hearing about your notoriety across the states. Sure, it was nice to have a group like this, but this wasn’t what you signed up for, especially the events at Blackwater. You were promised opportunity and freedom, not brutality and hiding and cold-blooded murder. You wondered, would it be easy to slip away?

Sighing, you slumped forward, and your  legs were numb from sitting on the hard floor. You were on the precipice of coming to a decision, but there were still some things preventing you from taking the leap. You’d become somewhat close with the members of the gang, your lone wolf attitude dissipating as you created bonds with the others. It was easy to get along with Arthur, the two of you becoming fast friends, frequently doing jobs together. You spent most nights chatting with the girls in camp, chatting until late in the night. You respected Hosea, and even Dutch for some time, the recent events shattering that respect for him. To some degree you’d created a connection with each member of the camp, keeping you tethered to one place. 

There was one person in particular, however, that kept pushing those thoughts of leaving out of your mind. Charles Smith, the taciturn hunter that you’d become weirdly fond of these past few months. You’re not sure what you’d call your relationship with the man. The two of you were friendly, maybe even friends. When Dutch sent you out on jobs together, it always ended well, working together quite decently, if you’d say so yourself. 

Still, you wished you were closer with him, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. You found it hard to try and initiate conversation with him, never quite knowing what to say that wouldn’t make you seem like a fool. And when you would talk to him, it felt like you were just talking at him, but if he was annoyed by you, he never showed. He’d just politely nod along, adding a few words here and there. 

But you knew he didn’t dislike you, finding him frequently looking at you around camp, just silently observing. Whenever you’d catch him, he’d just give you a polite smile, before turning away to do something else. Every time he did it, you found yourself grow bashful, your heart skipping in your chest. His starting was certainly not helping the infatuation you had with him.

Yes, your stupid heart had fallen for him, making it hurt to even entertain the idea of leaving. It was ridiculous and irresponsible to have feelings for him, and you knew that. They’d been there since he joined, and you figured that they would’ve gone away by now, but that was months ago. You’d never met a man like him before, someone so strong and fearsome, yet honorable and kind at the exact same time, and you figured that’s why you were so drawn to him.

Arthur knew about your feelings for the man, drunkley telling him during a night out at the bar in Blackwater a few months ago. He almost said something to Charles, who was somewhere in the same bar that night, claiming that ‘this life is unpredictable’ and ‘you gotta do somethin’ before it’s too late’, but you quickly shut that down with a swift kick to the shins. But that didn’t mean he stopped asking you if you’d done anything yet, and each time you’d respond with ‘no’. 

You knew that Charles didn’t think of you that way. You’re unpredictable, reckless, fiery, everything opposite of what Charles is. Where you were chaos, he was calm. Fire, water. And you didn’t want to ruin what relationship you had with him, so you kept your mouth shut (and never got too drunk around him).

A gust of sharp cold wind and the creak of a door broke you from your thoughts, a shiver wracking your body as you turned to see who just entered the cabin. In some cruel timing from the universe, the man who had just been haunting your mind walked in, a fresh dusting of snow hitting the ground as he shook out his jacket. A chorus of greetings came from the group collected around the fire, a gentle smile coming from you before you turned back to face the fire. Charles calling out your name had you slowly turning to him again. 

“Will you go hunting with me? The deer me and Arthur caught didn’t last as long as we’d hoped.” You now noticed the bow in his hand, along with a small quiver of arrows.

“I mean, sure,” you stood up, your cold muscles aching as you stretched, “but I ain’t much of a hunter, ya know. I usually end up scarin’ away animals instead of catchin’ ‘em. The others might be more well-suited for this.”

“But I’m asking you. And I can’t exactly do it myself.” Charles held the bow and arrows out for you to grab. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” Not like I could ever say no to you, you thought as you took the weapon and slung it over your shoulder, and secured the quiver on your hip. “Let’s go.”

With a nod, Charles opened the door, holding it open to let you step outside into the harsh Colter weather. Wincing at the bright light bouncing off the white snow, you were temporarily blinded as you made your way to where your horses were, Charles not far behind you. A light snowfall came down around you as you walked, not terrible visibility wise, but enough to be obvious. You just hoped that it wouldn’t pick up later. 

There was probably a good foot-and-a-half of snow on the ground, making your movement sluggish and awkward. From what little you knew about tracking, though, it meant that it would be easy to pick up an animal's track, so for that you were somewhat grateful. 

It didn’t take long for you to reach your horses, and you went to mount up, only to notice that your horse just wasn’t there. Spinning around, you looked to see if maybe she got unhitched and wandered somewhere nearby, but there was nothing. Whistling, you waited a few moments, seeing if you’d hear the sound of hoofbeats and winnings, but there was nothing. She was just gone.

As Charles mounted, looking equally as confused as you were, you turned and  looked to see who was currently on guard duty, thinking maybe they had seen something. “Javier!” You called out, the poor man nearly jumping out of his skin at the sudden loud noise. “Where’s Hera?”

“Arthur took her!” He shouted back, and you couldn’t help groaning in annoyance. I’m gonna kill you, Arthur Morgan. 

“And you let him?” Javier had made his way over to you now, and you saw him open his mouth to respond, but you stopped him with a wave. “Nevermind, it’s not your fault or your responsibility. I’m just… frustrated.” You took a deep breath, and a cloud left your lips as you exhaled.  “Where’d Arthur go?” You heard the ground crunch behind you as Charles approached on Taima. 

“I dunno,” Javier shrugged. “Him, Dutch, Micah, and Bill went out a few minutes ago, he’s been borrowing everyone else’s horse since his died. Guess it was Hera’s turn.”

“Well, shit,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “You don’t reckon they’ll be back soon, right? Maybe they forgot somethin’?” You missed the way Charles let out an amused huff, your back facing him as you conversed with Javier. 

Javier lightly chuckled. “Look, if you need to go, I’ll let you use Boaz for a bit. It’s not like I’ll be needing him for a bit,” he gestured to the repeater currently in his hands. “If anything happens to him though…” he threatened, gesturing again to the weapon in his hands.

You were about to respond, but Charles beat you to it. “Or you could ride with me. If you’d like.”

You tried to keep your face neutral as you turned to respond, but you had to stop and glare at Javier who was sniggering. Apparently your facial expressions weren’t as subtle as you believed. Thank God you had your back turned, then. 

You turned again, and when you weren't so rudely interrupted by Javier’s childish antics, you responded to Charles. “Are you sure?”

He extended his non-injured hand to you as he nodded. “We gotta get moving though. Only a few hours of sunlight left.”

“Alright.” You linked your hand with his, letting him help you on to the back of his horse with ease. Javier had long since left, already halfway back to his guard post, not before giving you a knowing smile. As you wrapped your hands around his waist, you tried and failed to keep your breathing even, your heartrate picking up substantially. 

Sighing, you refrained from resting your head against his back. This was pure torture, but you knew you were going to enjoy it.

Thank you, Arthur Morgan… I’m still gonna kill you, though. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

He wasn’t quite sure why he offered to let you ride with him on Taima; he was just making it harder for himself to stay away from you. He scolded himself, because someone else had your heart, and he would just end up hurting his own if he kept doing things like this. 

The two of you had sped out of Colter, Charles setting a brisk pace that made the air bite at his skin. The pain was good, as it distracted him from thinking of you. You, who subconsciously shifted closer to him to shield yourself from the air. He felt you adjust behind him until his larger frame was shielding you entirely. 

He expected you to have started talking by now, making some comment about the weather or cursing Arthur out. When you didn’t he felt himself start to grow a bit panicked. Did I make you uncomfortable? Is this too much?

He kept his voice steady, and he gently called out your name. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I figure that must come as a relief.” 

I could listen to you for hours, he thought. I don’t ever want to stop hearing your voice. “Are you alright?”

He felt you shift behind him, your hands tightening where they sat on his waist. Your touch wasn’t even improper, yet he still found his breath hitching in his throat. Charles just prayed that the howling winds around the two of you drowned it out. “I think so. It just… this place is really terrible.” When he nodded in agreement, you continued. “And I’ve got a lot on my mind. Blackwater, the gang, my future… It's a little bit overwhelming.”

“Do you…  want to talk about it?” He offered, and you sighed. 

“I… I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout Blackwater, ‘bout everything we did wrong, what we should’ve done differently, the choices we made. But I especially can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout that girl that Dutch murdered. The way he killed her, no mercy or falter, I ain’t even seen nothin’ like that from him before. Or maybe I chose to look away before…” you trailed off.

“You’re not the one who pulled the trigger. Dutch is the only person guilty of that.”

“Maybe I didn’t pull the trigger, but I’m sure as hell ain’t innocent. I could’ve- should’ve done somethin’. There was plenty of time for me to.”

“Don’t go beating yourself up about the past. The only thing we can hope to do is learn from it and continue on towards the future.”

“But the future is just as terrifying as the past! I’m scared for the gang, for its future. We’ve become so bloodthirsty, and now all Dutch talks about is revenge.” Your voice was becoming more and more distressed. “Is that what we’ve turned into? A bunch of no-good killers who think with their guns? I ain’t- I don’t wanna be that. That ain’t what I joined up for.”

Charles didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d noticed that shift in the gang over the last few weeks, the members become quicker to jump to violence and bloodshed. He wasn’t a saint, the blood on his hands equal to yours, but he was even becoming disturbed by the amount of unnecessary killings happening. 

“I’m thinkin’ ‘bout leaving.” Your voice was barely a whisper, like you were ashamed to say it. Charles stilled, shock running through his system. “Once we get out of here. This… this isn’t what I wanna do. I don’t wanna be associated with the Van Der Linde gang if it’s gonna continue heaidn’ in the direction it’s goin’. And I don’t wanna find myself at the end of a lawman’s barrel, noose ‘round my neck.”

“Oh.” Charles found himself at an impasse; did he just keep his mouth shut, or say something that might reveal too much? If you truly wanted to leave, then he didn’t want to guilt you into staying by revealing his true feelings. He understood why you wanted to leave, those same thoughts frequenting his mind as well, but he’d found a reason to stay: you. He hadn't told Arthur that when he asked why Charles was still hanging around a few days ago. His conversation with the other man when they hunted had solidified his stay with the gang, for better or for worse.

Did you feel the same way? You fool, Charles chastised himself. They don’t want you that way.

“Does anyone else know?” 

“No,” you sighed. “You’re the only one.”

A selfish part of him was glad that he was the only one that knew, but he quickly pushed those thoughts away. “Well,” he began, “the only thing I can say is to not do something that you’ll regret… and just know that there’s a lot of people here that will really miss you if you decide to leave.” I will miss you so much that it hurts.

He felt your head connect with his back as you slumped forward, and he jolted at the contact. “Why can’t you just make the decision for me, Charles? I trust your judgment.”

Stay. Please, stay, he screamed in his head. “I can’t tell you what to do, how to live your life. Unfortunately, the decision comes to you,” was his reply. 

“You’re right. You’re always right, Charles,” you laughed half-heartedly. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. Still got a ways until I have to.”

“Whatever decision you come to, I’ll support you.” Liar. “Just… don’t leave without saying goodbye, you hear?”

“I promise. Now,” your usual chipperness returned to your voice, “where are we headin’?”

He explained that he was taking the two of you to Lake Isabella, following the Spider Gorge down. The lake had started to melt, meaning animals were more likely to start coming out as the weather warmed. As the two of you rode, you kept close to him, significantly closer than you were when you left. 

Charles pretended not to notice.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

There wasn’t much to look at on the ride down. Everything was white, splashes of black rock breaking up the monotonous landscape, and the occasional tree made itself known. There weren’t any animals, not even a rabbit. It was like you and Charles were the only living souls in the area.

You only spotted a couple of buildings, two of them a small cabin that could house one or two people. One was absolutely destroyed, time and weather causing the ceiling to collapse in, only a skeleton remaining. The other still stood, smoke coming out of the chimney, but you had no idea if the occupants were home or not. 

Taking a mental note of the building, before returning your attention back forward. Charles seemed to be content with just riding in silence, so you settled against him, your head nearly resting on his shoulder. You hadn’t meant to spill so much to Charles, and you certainly hadn’t meant to tell him that you thought about leaving. It’s just that you felt so comfortable with him that you couldn’t help the words from coming out, and you felt ten pounds lighter because of it. 

You didn’t want to drag another person into your troubles, especially over something so trivial in comparison to what the rest of the gang was going through. A part of you wanted this to be the moment in all those cheesy romances you read where the love interest confesses their feelings in order to make the main character stay. But this was real life, and this was Charles you were talking about, the man who would put everyone’s needs before his, even if it hurt. And besides, Charles had never done or said anything that gave you the impression that he had feelings for you. From what you could tell, he saw you as a friend, and nothing else.

Right?

God, you were so desperate for the man you held on to. 

He made no comment when you did actually rest your head on his shoulder. If he did ask why, you’d just say you were cold. You knew you just wanted to pretend that he was yours. 

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. It did little to calm your erratic heart. 

Eventually, the partially frozen Lake Isabella came into view. This area wasn’t too unfamiliar to either you or Charles, having been there a few days prior to dispatch a group of O’Driscolls. Having opened your eyes a few moments prior, you were able to make out a few deer drinking from the newly exposed lake water. You gestured to them, but Charles had already seen them, bringing Taima to a halt behind a large bush.

By this time, the snow had begun to pick up, the sheets coming down obscuring your view ever so slightly. But it wasn’t enough to force you indoors. 

Dismounting as quietly as you could, you readied the bow in your hands, letting Charles lead the way as he snuck closer to them. It was almost supernatural, the way he was able to move so silently. For someone of his stature, you’d never expect him to be able to move so quietly and with such ease, yet here he was. You tried your best to move like him, taking a bit longer as you followed in his footsteps. Charles led you around the edge of the lake, the shore edge mere inches from your feet, occasionally splashing against your shoes. 

Luckily, the deer hadn’t noticed either you or Charles, still drinking without a care in the world. He had stopped by now, moving to the side to let you move ahead. The deer were in range by now, and you only needed to move a few feet closer, making you halt underneath a large tree. The branches drooped under the weight of the snow, a few globs falling off and hitting the ground around you. 

Weirdly enough, you felt at peace. Not because of the hunting, but because of the man who stood a few yards behind you. You felt safe under his gaze, like nothing could hurt you. As you drew the arrow back, you let out a confused noise as the deer suddenly scattered, spooked by something you couldn’t see. 

You turned to look back at Charles, but you realized then that you probably shouldn't've had your guard down so much. A large weight dropped on you from the tree, too heavy and too warm to be just snow. You let out a startled cry, blocking out Charles shouting out your name, panic seeping into his voice. 

Whatever fell on you landed on your back, your face pressed in the snow as you lay on your stomach. It clicked now that there was someone on you, a hand yanking your head back by your hair, warm breath assaulting your face as your attacker spoke. You couldn’t quite make out what exactly he was saying, snow and shock causing your hearing to be spotty. All you were able to make out were a few curses, the word “kill” multiple times, and some racist phrases aimed toward Charles.

Even before the initial shock had worn off, you were fighting back, squirming and moving desperately against the man’s grip. He just laughed, then you heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. He rested the barrel against the back of your neck, the cold metal pressing against the exposed skin. Dread washed over you, numbing your senses far beyond what the cold could do. With the way the man gripped your head, you couldn’t move it, and you strained your eyes as you looked around, desperate to find Charles. Is he alright? Please, let him be alright. 

You saw a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye, and as soon as the weight was on you, it was gone. An alarmed yell left your attacker as he was tackled off of you, being pushed a fair distance before falling onto the frozen Lake Isabella. Rolling over, your hand fell into the cold water, and you quickly pulled it back.

Standing as quickly as you could, the world spun for a moment, your body confused with the many different orientations you were just in. Pressing your back against the tree for stability, you watched as Charles and your attacker rolled far across the ice. You saw the distinct green handkerchief around his neck, and you couldn’t help the exasperated groan that left you. No matter where you went or what you did, you couldn’t escape the O’Driscolls. 

Shouts from behind you had you spinning around, quickly drawing your revolver, the bow long since discarded on the ground. Three more O’Driscolls came running from the woods, only a few yards away from you now, their cries of alarm coming from the two bodies of their members lying in the snow, which you had just noticed. Keeping your aim steady, you took three shots, the gunshots cracking through the still air. The first one hit right in the heart, the second one finding a home between his eyes, and the third one hit the final O’Driscoll right above the shoulder, merely grazing the skin, and the only non-fatal shot. Still, it caused all three of them to hit the snow.

With the final man falling relatively close to you, you ran over to him. Pulling him up by the scruff of his shirt, you held your revolver right below his chin, the hot metal burning his skin. He could not have been more than eighteen years old, a sliver of childhood innocence still left in his eyes as he stared up at you, fear and pain rendering him mute. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You snarled, pressing the barrel harder into his skin. “Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here, boy?”

Your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other, a few tears leaving him as he stared at you blankly. He was shaking, and you wondered how long he’d run with the O’Driscolls for. He was obviously young, and if this was his reaction to being held at gunpoint, you gathered that he didn’t have a whole lot of outlaw experience under his belt. Against every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, you felt yourself loosen your grip on the boy, a pang of sympathy running through you. 

Sighing in exasperation, you holster your gun, a relieved noise leaving him as you did. Glancing forward, you saw two horses hitched to the trees, seemingly the rides that they came in on. “Go,” you waved. “You ain’t even grown.”

“Th-thank you!” He nearly wept, getting to his feet shakily. 

“But if I ever see ya again, especially as a damn O’Driscoll,” your hand hovered above your weapon. “I’ll not hesitate to put a bullet in your head. You hear me?”

“Y-yes.” He clutched at his shoulder. 

“Now go!” you shouted. “Get outta here! Before I change my mind.” As soon as he sped off toward the horses, you turned back toward the lake. Charles stood above your attacker, beating the life out of the man, his face pure crimson. He was using his injured hand, but he paid it no mind. Blow after blow, Charles’s strikes hit true, the thuds echoing across the water.

You really should not have found it as attractive as you did. 

You let yourself watch for a few moments longer, before you were snapping out of it. “Charles!” You called out. Immediately, he was looking up at you, the man below him no longer even on his mind. Wiping away a smear of blood on his cheek, he slowly made his way toward you, his steps slow across the ice. 

Concern etched across his features as his eyes raked over your body, looking for any injury or hurt on you. “Are you alright?” You asked, trying your best to push down the flush of your cheeks as he stalked towards you. He had an almost murderous glint in his eye, his movement predatory; you especially should not have found that attractive. 

“Did he hurt you?” He completely brushed off your question, his eyes wide with panic. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this disheveled and worried before. 

“Only my pride.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Charles opened his mouth to respond, but was promptly cut off when the ground beneath him gave way, the weakened ice no longer strong enough to hold him. Immediately, he was submerged under the water, but luckily he was close enough to the shore that it wasn’t too deep. He reemerged seconds later, sputtering and coughing. 

As soon as you heard the crack of the ice, you were running toward the edge, stepping precariously on the ice. In retrospect, it wasn’t the smartest idea, especially when you started walking towards where Charles fell through, but at the time you didn’t care. All that mattered was getting him out. 

Scanning around, you quickly assessed the best way to save him. The hole that was created was way big enough so he could get his arm up, but as soon as he pressed at the ice it shattered, unable to hold anything. As you stepped closer, you felt it begin to break as well, and you quickly moved back to the shore. 

“Fuck…” your hands went to you head, your gloved fingers pulling at your hair. A large stick from the tree you assaulted jumped down from sparked an idea. Grabbing it, you started chipping away at the ice, smashing and breaking it until a path big enough for Charles to go through was created. Standing at the shore, however, you realized  that neither your arms or the stick was long enough to reach the man, who was starting to get dragged down from the weight of the water in his clothes. 

Quickly unhooking your lasso from your belt, you created a loop for him to grab on to, throwing it at him with an accuracy from years and years of practice. It landed right in front of him, and he grabbed on to it as quickly as he could, his movement sluggish. Wrapping it around your hands, you began to pull him to shore. “Hold on!” you shouted at him, and he let out a noise in response. You’d take that over nothing.

It wasn’t incredibly hard to pull him closer, the water helping carry him over. But once he got to the shore, and you discarded the rope, pulling him up onto the land proved to be almost impossible. Grabbing underneath his arms, you pulled with all the strength you had, the muscles in your back and shoulders crying out in pain, but you paid them no mind. It took an incredible amount of effort, but eventually he was fully out of the water, laying splayed out in the cold snow. 

You didn’t let yourself get a moment to recover, instantly running over to his side. Turning his head toward you, you let out a sigh of relief when you say his eyes flutter open. He was absolutely drenched, his heavy winter gear made even heavier with water, and you watched him begin to shake and his teeth begin to shatter. And, if your luck wasn’t already terrible enough, a full on snowstorm had started, causing cold blasts of snow and wind to pelt your bodies. Chalres shivered even harder, and you let out helped sit him upright. “We gotta get you indoors, and soon. You ain’t gonna-” a lump formed in your throat at the thought. “It ain’t gonna be good for you if you stay out here. I’ll need your help, though. I can’t lift you on my own. Just… just find what energy you can to get up. Please.” You couldn’t help the panic in your voice. To say you were scared would be an understatement. 

You’re not quite sure he fully comprehended what you said, but he started to get up, and you forced him to lean a bit of his body weight against you as he did so. When he was up, you slung his arm over your shoulder, nearly sagging under his weight as he nearly collapsed. You called for Taima, whistlin the same pattern you’d heard Charles use for her. 

Within seconds, the sound of neighing and hoofbeats filled your ears, his loyal steed coming to a halt right in front of the two of you. She let out a worried snort, and you reassured her with some soothing noises. “Alright, Charles. Here comes the worst part.” It took quite a bit of maneuvering and effort, but after a minute Charles sat where you did on the ride there. 

His eyes, which were onced unfocused and confused, had regained some clarity to them, and you heard him mutter out your name. You smiled as reassuringly as you could, before you were mounting up on Taima, sitting in the saddle and the reins in your hands. “Hold on, darlin’.” You were too panicked to notice the name slip out, and you took the gasp from Charles as being from the cold. 

With little urging, Taima moved forward, almost immediately breaking into a gallop. You led her back up the trail, heading toward the cabin you saw on the way down. It would take too long to return back to Colter, and with the way the storm raged around you, you doubted either of you would be able to make it. 

As you rode, you felt Charles slump against you, exhaustion taking over his body. You reached behind with one hand, grabbing his knee and shaking him awake. “I know you hate me right now, but I need you to stay awake for me… please.”

He grumbled something in reply, his speech slurred and indecipherable. 

“I’m gonna talk at you, like I always do,” you tried to joke. “And you’re gonna do what you do, which is nod along and pretend you care. Just… just stay awake. You hear me?”

“I care…” you heard him protest, and you just shook your head.

“Uh-huh.” The wind was biting into your cheeks, and your eyes were watering, but you didn’t dare slow. You filled the couple minute ride with your voice, telling stories of your childhood, or random anecdotes you’d picked up from your travels, to recounting the bar fight you’d gotten into a few weeks prior. Charles, despite being exhausted, kept alert, giving one-word responses from time to time. 

He shivered the entire time, and you couldn’t tell if that was worrying or comforting. Panic was steadily bubbling in your chest, finding it hard to keep focus on your stories. Halfway through the ride, much like you did, he rested his head on your shoulder, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You suppressed a surprised noise as you felt the freezing skin against your own, his nose and lips unnervingly cold. 

“Stay with me, Charles.”

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It was cold. 

Everything was cold.

Could hair get cold? It sure felt like it. Charles had never felt such coldness in his life before, and he never wanted to experience it again.

He should’ve never gone on to the ice, his brain was screaming at him.

But he had led with his heart, shoving the man off you and following him on to the ice. As soon as he had seen you go down, the other man on top of you, it was like time had slowed down. He had seen red, the two men attempting to hold him down quickly meeting their ends at the hands of his fury. 

He prided himself on being able to keep calm in situations, his anger rarely ever taking a hold of him, and it had never happened since he joined the gang. Guess that streak was broken now. Not that he had any regrets.

Well, he had a few.

He should’ve registered the footprints in the snow leading up to the base of the tree. He should’ve noticed something was wrong, should’ve not been so distracted by you. He should’ve said something.

Maybe none of this would’ve happened then.

But he’s just a man, and man is selfish. He was glad this happened.

Without this happening, he wouldn’t have his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried into your neck breathing you in. Without this, you wouldn’t have called him darling, causing his heart to thump erratically in his chest. Without this, he wouldn’t have been able to pretend right now that you and him were more than friends, a fantasy that he had played out a million times in his dreams.

You were talking to him, but he couldn’t make the words out. A shiver wracked his body, and he burrowed deeper. God, he was so cold. And so tired.It would be so easy to just close his eyes, to let unconsciousness wash over him… 

He was jolted awake by a hearty shake of his knee, and he heard your voice break through the fog of his brain. 

You had such a lovely voice. He hated how worried it sounded, and all because of him. Or maybe he was happy you were worried about him. He couldn’t tell. Everything was unclear. The only thing he was certain about was the fuzzy feeling in his chest that grew with each glance and each soft word from you.

He was in love with you.

Stupidly in love, in fact. 

He couldn’t stop himself, the words tumbling from his lips like a freefall. But it came out as gibberish, and he felt you shake your head, unable to comprehend him.

That’s alright. He’d repeat it as many times as you needed. 

And as another shiver tore through him, he felt you rub his thigh reassuringly. Despite the thick material of your gloves, he could feel the warmth of your skin, practically burning against his frosty skin. The butterflies in his chest bubbled to life, and he couldn’t stop the small laugh he let out. 

He was infatuated.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The short ride felt like forever, the monotonous landscape that had once been soothing now tormenting you as you searched for the cabin you saw prior. The smoke trail was impossible to spot out in the snowstorm, so you used what limited navigation skills you had to get you there. 

Eventually, the frame of the cabin broke through the sheet of snow, and you nearly cried in relief. You were starting to freeze, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Charles was feeling. Taima huffed as you brought her alongside the entrance, the steam from her snout dissipating instantly. Quickly dismounting, Charles nearly fell off when you moved, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” you snarled, roughly shaking him awake. Yes, you were threatening the hypothermic man. No, you did not care. You were almost inside, and you were not going to lose him. “Do not pass out on me, Charles Smith. Now, let’s get you off Taima.”

Charles muttered out an apology, his eyes reopening as he struggled to get off. His clothes were starting to solidify, clumps of ice forming across his jacket. You helped as best you could, catching him when his feet made contact with the ground, nearly sending you both to the snow. Again, you slung his arm over your shoulder, your other arm holding your gun as you entered the cabin, ready to clear out any homeowners. 

A blast of heat hit both of you as you creaked the door open slowly, and you heard Charles sigh with relief. A quick scan around proved that it was empty, and you gently set Chalres in front of the still burning fire. You realized now that the occupants were probably some of the O’Driscolls that just jumped you, and the cabin now stood empty for you and Charles. Relaxing slightly, you put away your gun, then added a few more logs to the fire pit, the flames lapping at the wood eagerly. 

To call the cabin small would be an understatement. It was large enough to fit both you and Charles comfortably, but you can’t imagine that the few O’Driscolls camping here temporarily had a lot of legroom . A single twin sized bed was lined up against the wall, cloth and other materials covering the windows beside it. There was a fireplace, a small stewpot, a nightstand, and a chair. Extra sleeping bags and rugs adorned the floor, a few cans of fruits and vegetables scattered across the floor. You saw the occasional empty bottle of alcohol, and you even found a pack of cigarettes. 

Charles seemed to wake some, the warmth of the fire breathing some life back into him. You saw him look around, body still shaking. He looked even worse than you thought, his normally warm-toned skin devoid of any color, and his hair was plastered to his face. As you crouched down in front of him, you went to push back a few strands, your gloves long since discarded, but you refrained. 

“A-Are you alright?” You heard him ask again through chattering teeth, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Even though he saw freezing, likely suffering from hypothermia, he was more worried about your well being.

“I’m not the one who fell into the freezing lake. What were you thinking?” You weren’t angry, your words surprisingly gentle despite the fear in your heart. 

“I-I wasn’t… I-” his body cut him off, shivers wracking his body. 

“We gotta get these clothes off of you,” you picked at the offending garment, the material barely budging. You started to work the heavy coat off his shoulders, the roaring wind outside the only noise.

Suddenly, Charles was grabbing at your wrist, stalling your movement. You were halfway done with taking it off, the water melting off of it coating your hands. “Taima…” you heard him say.

“I’ll go make sure she’s secure,” you quickly rose to your feet. “Just get undressed. We need to get you warmed up.”

Stepping outside, the gusts hitting your body caused you to let out a curse. Taima was  still where you left her, stomping impatiently in the ground, shaking out her coat as she tried to keep warm. When you clicked your tongue, she came prancing over, ready to get out of the wind. 

You led her to the attached stall, which was in pretty decent condition. It blocked out a lot of the wind, and it shared a wall with the fireplace, letting some of the warmth to the horses as well. There was some hay left scattered on the ground, and you took off her saddle, setting it on the stand. You left the horse blanket on, giving her some extra protection. 

When you were done, you moved to leave, and you felt Taima brush affectionately against your head, nuzzling her snout into your shoulder. Laughing, you pet her neck affectionately before she removed herself to continue eating at the hay. Making sure the gate was secure, you headed back into the cabin. 

Charles was still undressing when you entered, his back to you. Even his undershirt was soaked through, the material clinging to his body like a second skin. It was at that point it clicked that the man you were infatuated with was going to be bare before you soon. You found yourself turning away, uncharacteristically embarrassed, shrugging off your own jacket and laying across the back of the chair. If it was any other person, you’d’ve not reacted this way, your lifestyle not allowing for much privacy. But of course it had to be Charles getting undressed in front of you, and you found yourself growing quite warm. 

Taking the lasso from your belt, you strung it across the room, making a makeshift clothesline to hopefully dry his clothes faster. His jacket, which was a wet pile of fur, was the first to be hung up, the rope creaking precariously under the weight. Luckily, it held, and you added each new item as he took it off. 

You made sure not to look directly at Charles, and you saw in your peripheral vision as he worked off his shirt. Your throat was suddenly dry, hands shaky as you continued to hang items up. Why, out of all people, did it have to be Charles? It was like God was tormenting you, giving you what, but keeping it just out of reach. 

You must’ve made a noise, because Charles was turning toward you, concerned. You finally let yourself look at him. He was partially done unbuttoning his shirt, the collar open, but you saw that he was struggling with the small buttons, his fingers barely working. “May I?” you asked, gesturing toward his shirt. The sooner he was out of the wet garment, the better.

He paused for a second, contemplating. “Yes,” he consented, lowering his hand at his side. Stepping forward, your hands resumed his work, quickly undoing the rest of it. Do not make a big deal of this, you repeated in your mind. You were simply helping a friend not die from hypothermia, not unbuttoning the shirt of the person you were hopelessly in love with. He shrugged it off, practically peeling it from his body. You were especially careful to only look him in the eye now, not daring to look at his newly exposed chest. 

Turning your back to him to hang up the shirt, the unmistakable clang of his belt hitting the floor had you stilling. Exhaling shakily, you heard him take off the remainder of his clothes, all making themselves comfortable on the floor. You didn’t dare turn around to grab them. Instead, you headed towards the bed, pulling off the heavy duvet. Walking backwards, you held it out to him behind you. You heard him murmur out a small thanks, taking the blanket from your outstretched arms. 

You gave him a few moments. “Are you… decent?” you asked, keeping your gaze up even with your back turned. When he gave a noise of confirmation, you finally turned back around. After situating his discarded clothing, you gathered some of the canned goods strewn about before setting your boots next to Charles’ beside the fire. You sat down next to him on the various furs and bedrolls. Charles had the blanket wrapped around his body, and you tried really hard to not concentrate on the fact that he was completely bare under the duvet. 

You opened one of the cans with your knife, tossing the lid of it behind you and handing it to the man beside you. “Eat. You need to get your strength up.” You saw him open his mouth to protest, but you cut him off before he could. “There’s plenty of food for the both of us. Now, eat.” You pushed the can of what looked to be sweetcorn in his hand, and he finally took it, tipping it back into his mouth and eating slowly. 

He was still shivering, but he was slowly becoming more and more alert, and his teeth had ceased their chattering. Quickly finishing the can of food, he placed the empty can beside him, rubbing his hands together beneath the blanket. You were looking into the fire, and you could feel his eyes on you. He didn’t say anything, just observing you like he normally did. 

This time, however, it felt like his eyes were picking you apart, like he could see every secret beneath your skin. Clearing your throat, you stood up, gathering up the remainder of his clothing and hanging them up. You were scared that the longer you sat by him, the likelihood of you having to confront your secrets would increase tenfold. “You need anythin’? More food? Water? Coffee?” You asked, drying your hands on your pants. 

“I’m g-good,” he responded. 

“Have you warmed up at all?” He shrugged in response, the action barely noticeable with the heavy blanket around his shoulders. You didn’t bother to hide the concerned frown on your lips as you crouched beside him. Running the back of your hand, you winced when you were met with deathly cold skin. “Shit…” you cursed, pulling your hand away, and you failed to notice Charles chasing after your warmth.

Standing up, you began to pace the room, trying to keep the dread you felt at bay. Your mind was running wild with thoughts, all ending in worse case scenarios. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to keep calm, just for Charles’ sake. You wouldn’t do him any good if you were freaking out. You tried to think back on the basic first aid you’d learned through the years. Most of the things you’d already done, like getting him out of wet clothing, getting him food, getting him in front of a fire. Was there anything else you could do? Or did you just have to sit and wait and pray that what you did was enough.

You knew Charles was watching you pace, doing nothing to calm your racing heart. You ran your fingers through your hair, a gasp leaving your lips when you finally remembered. Body heat, which means… oh. 

Goddamn it all. 

You hoped you didn’t look too alarmed. It’s not that you were opposed to the idea, but it would make it significantly harder to bottle up your feelings. In fact, doing this might just smash the bottle all together, causing you to spill your heart to him. “So…” you began nervously. How the hell were you supposed to ask this?

“So…?” Charles repeated, raising a brow. 

“I-I… well…” you ran your hand over your face. The wall was looking quite interesting right now. “I was wondering if you’d like… I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythin’... if you’d like for me to share my warmth?” That sounds so weird. “It’s just, you’re not gettin’ any better… and I don’t want anythin’ to happen to you. I couldn’t bear it.” The last part you whispered, and you doubted he even heard it. 

Something flickered across Charles’ face, too quick for you to recognize. He looked conflicted, and you chewed nervously on your lips. Did I cross a line? Oh God, did I make this weird? He’s gonna hate me-

“I’d like that,” his voice cut off your minds’ rambling. 

Letting out a breath of relief, you gave him a small smile, which he returned. Okay, this is happening. Again, do not make a big deal of this. This means nothing. Your hands, which weren’t steady, began to work at your button up. Charles slowly looked away, his eyes darkening slightly. “I’m not gonna take everythin’ off,” you reassured, taking the look in his eye as concern. Taking your gun belt off and setting it on the bed, your pants and socks were off next, joining the belt, leaving you in only your undergarments. 

Slowly, you approached him, your steps uncertain across the bedrolls and furs. You tried to keep calm, but the reality of what was going to happen quite soon was causing your heart to pound against your ribs. He watched you approach, head turned back around. You couldn't imagine it was comfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

Finally, you stood in front of him, partially blocking the fire, which caused your shadow to cast over Charles. Without breaking eye contact with you, he pulled the blanket back, inviting you in. Your shadow, thankfully, blocked out any newly revealed skin, but you still found a blush creeping up your neck. 

Without giving yourself a chance to back out, you sat yourself on his lap. With your legs wrapping around his hips, your ankles were barely able to interlock. His following sigh sounded pleased, and you found yourself smiling as he wrapped the blanket around the two of you, creating something akin to a cocoon. He kept his hands braced on the ground beside him, refraining from touching you.

Charles was indeed freezing, and you let out a discontent noise at the contact. “Sorry,” you more felt than heard him say, your faces mere inches apart. 

“I should be the one who’s sayin’ that…” you sighed, and you rested your hands on his shoulders, beginning the process of warming his body back to a normal temperature. “I should’ve been payin’ better attention, then we would’ve never ended up in this mess.” Not that I’m complaining too much. 

The two of you sat together for a few minutes, letting Charles simply enjoy your body heat. “I don’t think either of us were expecting an O’Driscoll to come falling out of a tree.” You heard him say.

“It certainly wasn’t on my list of things to happen today,” you laughed, your hands moving down his shoulders to his biceps. Having him under your touch like this really put into perspective his sheer size. “And neither is this. Any of this. I’m sure you weren’t plannin’ on takin’ a bath in Lake Isabella today.”

“Can’t say I was. But, you-” Charles cut himself off, his eyes widening the tiniest bit. If you weren’t so close, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You gave him a confused look, and he just shook his head. “It’s nothing. I almost said something foolish,” he tried to dismiss, embarrassment evident on his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say somethin’ foolish the entire time I’ve known you.” You tugged at one of his arms, bringing it between your bodies after he shifted his weight on to the other arm. You clasp his uninjured hand between yours, blowing hot air and trying your best to return some life back to the ice cubes that were his fingers. “You know I ain’t gonna tease you for what you say, right?”

“I know,” Charles sighed, but he didn’t elaborate further. You didn’t push, not wanting to wreck this moment between the two of you. You felt him flex his fingers between yours, a relieved noise leaving him as more feeling returned to them. Eventually, you let go of his hand, but it seemed like he didn’t quite know where to put it, hovering a few inches above your waist before returning back to the ground. “You can touch me, Charles.”

You held back a content noise when you finally felt him grasp your waist, his fingers resting on the waistband of your undergarments. Occasionally, his fingers would brush your bare skin, your undershirt having rid up when you had sat down, and you felt goosebumps erupt across your skin. 

Moving to his injured hand, you eyed the now wrecked bandage, blood and water causing the material to practically dissolve. You tsked disapprovingly, and began to peel off the old wrapping, discarding them across the cabin. You were expecting to see the wound completely reopened, especially because of the punches he threw at the O’Driscoll, but were pleasantly surprised to find a pretty much healed injury. It was slightly irritated, sure, but it must’ve been healed for at least a day or two.

“And here I was scared that we’d have to chop off your hand,” you joked, flipping his arm over as you examined the now scar. “This has been healed for a day or two now. You’re probably only gonna have a light scar from this.” Realization dawned on you, and you chuckled. “Charles, you could’ve gone huntin’ on your own today.”

“I could’ve.” He didn’t even bother trying to deny it. “Still, I did want to do it with you, but I could’t just ask. I needed an excuse.”

“You never need an excuse, Charles. I’ll gladly go huntin’ with you, injured hand or not.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You felt him squeeze your hip gently, a playful grin on his face. It had your stomach doing somersaults, and you tore your eyes away to begin warming up his other hand. It was strange, seeing him so carefree like this. It was a look you’d never really seen on him, but you rather enjoyed it. “Only hunting?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you teased, drawing out the syllables. “Whatcha have in mind?”

“Not quite sure yet. But it’ll just be us.”

“Like a date?” You joked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“Sure. Like a date.”

A giddy smile cracked across your lips, and you gingerly kissed the back of Charles’ hand before letting it go, where it immediately joined his other by settling on your waist. Your ears were burning, a flustered blush growing across your body. Here you were, sitting on a naked Charles’ lap, only the thin material of your undergarments separating the two of you, but the thing that made you bashful was him asking you on a date. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you rested your head on his shoulder. You felt him chuckle, the hands on your waist moving up your back, keeping your body pressed close to him. The digits were still a bit chilled, but you didn’t mind. The blanket around the two of you was barely hanging on at this point, and you tried your best to keep it around him. Like he did on the horse, you felt him bury his face in the crook where your neck and shoulders connected. 

Although it was significantly less cold than the last time, you still shivered at the contact. You felt his lips brush against the skin, and you could barely feel the light kiss he pressed there, gone in an instant. So many thoughts and emotions were running through your mind at that moment. You mostly felt relieved, your feelings for the man no longer feeling so one-sided. Your mind was so loud, in fact, that you barely heard him mumble something against your skin. You realized that he was thanking you, and you responded with a confused noise.

“You saved my life today. Twice. I haven’t thanked you yet.”

“I wouldn’t’ve just left you, Charles. I couldn’t. I…” you trailed off, a confession ready to leave your lips. The bottle had cracked, its contents spilling out as you tried to damndest to keep it all contained. “If I remember correctly, you also saved me today. Nothin’ good would’ve happened if you weren’t there today.”

You felt him tense, an almost pained sound leaving him. “When I saw you like that… I don’t ever want to see that again.”

You moved back so that you could see him again, and you cupped the side of his face with your hand, relieved to find the skin significantly warmer than it was moments ago. “I’m alright. Thanks to you, I’m safe.” 

He relaxed slightly, but his eyes were filled with so much sadness that it had you frowning. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared before,” he whispered, resting his own hand atop yours. “The best thing in my life, and I almost lost it today.” Both of you seemed surprised by his words, but you didn’t let him backtrack.

“But you didn’t. You are the one who got that man off me, and showed him the error of his ways.”

He chuckled at that, but then another frown adorned his lips. “I didn’t… unsettle you, right? I… I saw your eyes widen after you called me off him. You’re not-”

“Never. I know you’d never hurt me.”

Relieved, you felt him go fully lax under your touch. His whole body had returned to a normal temperature, you noted, the heat under the blanket beginning to become sweltering. With your thumb, you stroked his cheek, feeling the raised skin of the scar across his cheek. He let go of your hand, moving it back to the ground to keep the two of you propped up as you leaned forward. The duvet fell slightly, exposing his shoulder to the air, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.”

He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. “Yeah?” You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low.

You nodded, the fingers on his cheek moving to brush a few strands away from his face. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out but not because of the low light. “I always think you look beautiful,” you murmured. 

He hummed in response, and you felt the hand on your back creek up, resting at the nape of your neck. He didn’t pull you forward, he just held you. “Next to you, however, I imagine I look quite plain.”

“Oh, hush,” you chided while smiling. 

“I’m serious.” You felt him play with the hair at your neck, fingers running lightly through the strands. “It’s distracting, how beautiful you are. Whenever I walk into a room and you’re in there, you’re the first thing I look at, and I can never bring myself to look away. At night at camp, you look so at ease, the fire illuminates your face in a way that makes you look ethereal. I can do nothing but watch you, too stunned to speak. You plague every waking thought, and you haunt my dreams. You’ve unknowingly burrowed yourself into my heart, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You were at a loss for words, your mouth moving but no words actually came out. Choosing to ignore the way your heart celebrated, you let out an airy chuckle. “I think that’s the longest I’ve ever heard you talk.” 

He laughed. “I can keep it short, if you’d like?”

“I didn’t mean that,” you scoffed. “What could possibly condense all that?”

Charles gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe you hadn’t caught on by now. A part of you knew what he was going to say, but you wouldn't believe it. You needed to hear it from his lips. The hand playing with your hair stilled, the only sound being the crackling fire behind you. 

“I’m in love with you.” 

He said it like it was the simplest thing ever, like it hadn’t just completely flipped your world upside down. He had taken your bottled up feelings and opened it himself. Taking your responding silence as a negative thing, you felt his hand fall slightly, a worried look crossing his face. You didn’t give him much time to worry, pulling him closer with the hand still cupping his face. Your foreheads connected, and your lips were almost brushing. “You mean it?” 

“Of course.”

“Well… for how long?”

“How long have I been with the gang?”

Surprised, you laughed lightly, and he visibly looked confused. “So this entire time, you felt the same way?”

It took a second for him to process your words, a wide grin appearing when he did. “I guess so.” He paused for a moment, and you felt him take a deep breath. “You love me?” He asked, his voice small and uncertain. 

You moved your face back an inch, giving you room to nod. “I do. For the same amount of time, too. I was too scared to say anythin’, I didn’t wanna ruin what we had. And I kinda thought I annoyed you to death,” you chuckled. “But if today reminded me of anythin’, it’s that this life is too unpredictable to have regrets.”

“Arthur gave you that lecture too?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he didn't heed your warning about not playing matchmaker with you and Charles. But still, you might have to thank him later. “Despite what he claims, he’s a nosy bastard.”

He hummed in agreement, and a silence hung over the room, anticipation heavy in the air. With the lightest touch, you felt him bring you forward with the hand on the back of your head. “I wanna hear you say it,” you heard him ask. 

“I love you, darlin’.” Both hands now cupped his cheeks, and you hovered your lips above his. “Kiss me?”

“Gladly.” You felt his hand move to cradle your head, pulling you in the final distance until your lips were colliding. There was only a hint of chill left on his skin, easily melting away against your warm mouth.  His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and you let out a pleased sigh. It was a surprisingly quick kiss, and you sucked in a breath when you felt him pull away, his eyes blown out. 

He was also panting, and his fingers wove into your hair, like he was grounding himself. Moving forward, you tried to reconnect your lips, but he moved his head so that your lips collided with his cheek instead. A jolt of panic shot through your body, thinking you horribly misread the situation. “I want… I want this,” he reassured. “But I want to make sure you want this. That you want… me.”

You’d never met a man like Charles Smith, and you’re sure you’d never meet another like him. Never, ever had you heard of or met a man explicitly asking for consent like this, and it got you more excited than you thought it would. “I’ve wanted this for a while now,” you admitted, resting your touch on the junction where his shoulders and neck met. “I’ve dreamed of a moment like this more times than I can count. I want you, Charles. I need-”

In a complete switch up, he crashed his lips against yours, muffling your words. If the first kiss had been gentle and hesitant, this one was hungry and confident, lips eagerly moving against yours. He was practically devouring you, like he couldn’t get enough of you. With every small noise that left you, he seemed to grow more bold, and you felt the fingers in your hair tug slightly. It didn’t hurt, but it caused your lips to part. Within seconds his tongue swept into your mouth, eager to explore you. 

The blanket had long since fallen off, bunched up on the ground surrounding the two of you. Pushing him lightly on his shoulders, you eased him on his back. Your hands planted on his chest when he made contact with the furs, your lips not separating for a moment. He was a pleasant temperature under your fingers, his skin surprisingly soft, just like his lips. You were straddling his waist now, your hands barely keeping you from laying your entire weight on the man. 

He had let go of your head, his hands moving to your waist to keep you secure. His grip was strong, but not enough to leave a mark. A part of you wanted him to, but you didn’t say anything. If he wanted you like you wanted him, then there would be a next time.

Rocking your hips, you felt a growing hardness barely separated by your thin undergarments. You felt him groan when you did so, and he tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth. When he moved his head away to suck in some air, your hands snaked back up his neck, nearly covering his ears. You’d thought your attempts at warming him up were fruitful, but when you felt how cold his ears were, you made a concerned noise, your lust temporarily forgotten. “Your ears are freezing…”

He looked like he couldn’t care less, but then a mischievous smile crossed his face. “You gonna warm them up, then?”

“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do?” You giggled, and you made sure that your hands fully covered them. You had easy access to his lips, and you gave him a quick kiss. 

“Not with your hands, my love.”

You smiled at the endearment, but his statement confused you. Cocking your head to the side, you moved your hands off his face, settling them back on his chest. “What-?”

You didn’t get to finish your question, the hands on your hips effortlessly pulling your up toward his face. Your knees now straddled the sides of his head, your thighs practically where your hands were, covering his ears. You looked down at him with wide eyes, a flush creeping up your neck at the implications. Surely he doesn't want that, right?

Charles let out a satisfied noise, and with his hands now on your thighs he eased you on to him. You let him, but you kept a few inches between his mouth and your body. He genuinely seemed upset by that, and you felt him press a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh, causing a shiver to run through your body.

“Please, let me taste you,” he pressed another kiss to the inside of your legs, this one closer to your aching center. If he moved any closer, he was bound to feel your wetness through the fabric. “I want you to fall apart on my face.”

You exhaled shakily. “You want to?” You asked, almost in disbelief. This man was unreal.

He nodded, the action causing his chin to brush against your center. “Let me make you feel good, my love.” When he pulled you down again, you didn’t keep any distance between the two of you. You felt him press a kiss to your clothed center, a smug grin on his face when he felt your arousal. He didn’t say anything, just pulling you down closer to his face until your legs were fully wrapped around his head, no space between the two of you. 

You felt his tongue flick out, simply tasting you through the damp fabric. He did it again, and again, and his hands tightened on your thighs. He was indirect with his tongue, but each swipe had you letting out small moans. A mix of his saliva and your arousal was causing the fabric to become even more wet; they were most certainly going to be wrecked. 

The small kitten-licks were nice, but you needed more. Charles knew this too, and you felt him work his fingers under the material of your undergarments, pulling them down your ass and thighs. It took some awkward maneuvering, but eventually the garment was off, being tossed somewhere to the side by you, leaving you in only your undershirt.

He wasted no time, pulling you back down onto his face with a growl. Parting you with a pass of his tongue, he let out a pleased noise, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. Charles was insatiable now, lapping and drinking you like you were the best goddamn meal he’s ever had. His eyes were hooded, drunk on you. When his broad strokes turned into concentrated flicks on your clit, you moaned loudly, your thighs turning vice-like around his head. 

It spurred him on, working your clit with markman’s accuracy, bringing you closer and closer to your climax in record time. You heard him groan something under you, and you let out a breathy sigh when you realized he was groaning your name over and over again.  

This entire time, you had kept your hands to yourself, but you were growing more and more desperate to touch him. Reaching down, your hands tangled in his hair, and then almost immediately releasing it like it burned you. For a second, you panicked, thinking yet again you crossed a line, which seemed to be a repeating event this evening. You knew his hair was an important part of his culture, and you would never forgive yourself if you did something to upset him.

Without even slowing down a beat, you felt him grab your hand, leading your back towards his head. He closed his eyes when he felt you weave your fingers through the locks, his hips bucking when you tugged slightly. 

You were getting close now, and you felt yourself moving against his face in time with his tongue. “Charles,” you whined, and he hummed in response. “I’m- I’m gettin’ close, darlin’,”

As you neared your release, you heard the sound of skin-on-skin from behind you. Turning around, you saw Charles stroking himself, getting off to eating you out. “Oh my God… Charles…” you breathed out, barely able to tear your eyes away from the beautiful sight behind you.

His eyes were hazy with lust as he peered up at you from between your legs, and you could feel yourself begin to tip over the edge. Sighing out his name, you felt him grin. Before you could even process it, he sucked on your clit, pushing you over that edge as you came hard on his face. You were crying out his name, but your voice sounded distant to your ears, temporarily out of your body as you orgasmed. Charles kept his tongue moving as you came, drawing out every bit of pleasure from your body.

It took you a few moments to recover, and the first thing you were able to hear was the obscene noise leaving Charles’ mouth as he drank in your release. Secondly, you realized you had a death-grip on Charles’ hair, and you quickly let go, and you tried to apologize, but your words were jumbled. He continued to lap at you, but it quickly became too much, your body beginning to feel overstimulated. You rolled off of him, being mindful of the fireplace even in your post-orgasmic haze.

Glancing over at Charles, you found him already watching you, just like he would do in camp. With a soft smile, you scooted closer until you were pressed into his side. He gave you his arm to la on, and you felt him kiss the top of your head. It was silent between the two of you, simply taking the moment to catch your breaths and recover. 

You couldn’t help looking down, though, having to stifle a gasp when you saw how big he actually was, having only gotten a glimpse of him early. He was going to feel good, but you knew you would be sore for a few days after. Not that you cared. 

Looking back up at him, you let your fingers trail up his chest, resting right above his heart. It was beating erratically, just like yours, and you heard him let out a noise when your fingers “accidently” brushed over his nipple. You heard him whine out your name, and you slowly sat up. You were able to see him clearer now, and he looked like a mess. His face was covered in your slick, glistening in the firelight, and his hair was all tousled from your fingers. But the best part was the pure bliss on his features.

It was almost comical, the way his eyes snapped open when you pulled off your shirt, exposing your chest to him. “You’ve got somethin’ on your face,” you tried to joke, but your voice was quite hoarse. You tossed your shirt at him, giving him something to wipe his mouth with. He merely set it to the side, unbothered with the mess. Propping himself up with an arm, he offered you his free hand, pulling you forward when you took it in yours.

You nearly fell right on top of him, your muscles pure jelly. Laughing, you were just able to get upright before he was kissing you. It was weird, tasting yourself on him, but you found you didn’t mind. You didn’t keep your lips on his for too long, moving down his jaw, then down his neck. You weren’t straddling his hips, so the positioning was a tad bit uncomfortable, but you didn’t care. 

Moving down further, you trailed kissed across his collarbones, then down his sternum, his breathing growing uneven as you went lower and lower. A hand now rested on the back of your head as you continued downward, reaching a patch of hair that started at his belly button. It surprised you, the rest of his body being relatively hairless, but you weren't complaining. In fact, you were imagining seeing it peek out from under his shirt as he stretched, his clothing riding up with his arms. Even though it was relatively innocent in the light of everything else the two of you were doing, it had you pressing your thighs together, trying to relieve the returning ache between them.

Following the happy trail, you ran your fingers through the hair as you adjusted closer to his member. His was achingly hard at this point, and his breathing stilled when you ghost your lips over the tip. Leaning over him, you flicked your tongue out, licking up the bead of precum. The hand and your head tightened into a ball, and you could tell he was fighting every urge to buck himself down your throat. Next time, you thought. 

Moving down further so that you sat between his legs, you spit into your hand before you grasped him. He was velvety soft as you slowly began to stroke him, a mix of your name and a moan leaving his lips as you did so. With heavy eyes and part lips, he watched you pleasure him. “You feel so good in my hand,” you murmured, “butI think you’ll feel even better in me, no?”

His response was slightly incoherent, but you could tell he was agreeing with you. “In a second, darlin’. I wanna taste you, too.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Charles found his voice again, although it sounded very strained.

“But I want to. Don’t make me beg for it.” You weren’t really intended to suggest anything, but the look on Charles’ face at your comment had you grinning. “Unless you want me to?”

“I-” he was stunned, but you could tell he was imagining it, and liking it. 

“Please, darlin’, let me suck your cock,” you fluttered your lashes at him. “I bet you taste so good… just let me taste you, please. I need it so bad, darlin’. I need your cock-”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Charles cursed, which was more arousing than you thought it would be. “Yeah, go ahead, my love.”

Pressing one last kiss to the tip, you flattened your tongue and ran it up his length, and you heard him moan. You did it a few times, receiving a similar reaction each time. Eventually, you slowly took the tip of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around while doing so. Taking more and more of him into your mouth, you were only able to take him halfway before he was pressing against the back of your throat, and you relaxed as best you could, not wanting to trigger your gag reflex.

Taking the rest of him in your hand, you began to bob your head up and down. Hollowing your cheeks until you reached the tip of him, you then ran your tongue across the slit, before moving back down his length, keeping your tongue flat. You repeated this action for a while, falling into an easy rhythm. You felt him buck up a few times, but other than that he kept his hips relatively still, letting you have your way with him. His hand didn’t push you further down him, he just simply held you, moving back the hairs that tried to fall in your face. 

You heard him moan out your name, and you groaned. “You feel so good, my love,” he praised. His words turned into a surprised moan, whe, with your free hand, started moving slowly up his thigh, moving inward until you brushed against his balls. He nearly jumped with the contact, causing his cock to go further down your throat than you'd like, causing you to rear back coughing. 

Immediately, he was apologizing. His hand was now on your cheek, wiping away the spit around your mouth as you recovered. “Are you alright?” He asked, and you nodded, not trusting your voice at that second. You could tell that he still felt bad, and you pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist. 

“I’m alright,” you managed to get out, and you cleared your throat some more. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“So did you, touching me like that” he teased, his earlier concerns dissipating when he saw that you truly were okay. “I wasn’t gonna last long even before you did that.” Pulling you up to him, he kissed you, and you finally straddled his waist, his cock resting between your bodies. 

You weren’t given much time to savor his lips before your world was quite literally turning as he flipped you on to your back. The furs nestled nicely against your skin, and you locked your legs around Charles’ waist, grinding yourself against his member. His head fell against your chest, and you felt him brush feather-light kisses across your skin, much like you did. But a new eagerness had overtaken you, and you grinded again against him, and you felt him chuckle. “Patience, my love.”

“I’ve waited long enough, Charles. I need you in me.”

“You think you’re ready for me?” If those words came out of any other man, you would’ve laughed at the arrogance those words held. But you knew it came out of a place of genuine concern for your wellbeing, scared of hurting you. He was large, and you knew that it was probably going to hurt when he entered you, but your lust fueled brain did not care. You need him in you now, consequences be damned.

“Please,” you whispered, and he adjusted so that his face was level with yours. 

“Alright, but if at any point-”

Kissing him quickly, you smiled at him, brushing back a long strand of hair that fell in his face. “I will. I trust you. Now,” you kissed him again, “fuck me.”

He didn’t respond, pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose before you felt him press into you. He kept his eyes on your face, gauging your reaction as he slowly entered you. The initial breach was always the worst part, and you couldn’t help the slight grimace that crossed your features as he breached your entrance. He halted, but you urged him further by pressing your heels into his back. 

The stretch was unlike anything else you’d ever felt, satiating a need you didn’t know you had. Tangling your hands in his hair, you pulled your face against yours, resting your foreheads together. “God, you feel so good,” you panted as he pressed himself deeper into you. You were certain that he was going to ruin you for any other man. 

Hearing him chuckle made you realize you said that last part aloud. “After this, you’re stuck with me, my love.”

Because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, and you were curious to see how deep his possessive side went, you pushed further. “Am I now?” Yes. 

For a second, it seemed like Charles couldn’t tell that you were teasing, but when he saw the playful glint in your eye he played along. “Do you think anyone else could make you feel like this?”

He was nearly fully sheathed in you, and you fought the urge to just pull him the rest of the way into you “I dunno. If I remember right, I asked you to fuck me. It sure don’t feel like you’re doin’ that.”

Finally, he was fully in you, your hips flushed together. You both let out content moans, and Charles gave you a moment to adjust. “You want me to fuck you?” He confirmed, and the words sounded even filthier coming from his mouth. 

“If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will.” 

Letting out something akin to a growl, he pulled out of you quickly, leaving only the tip in before he was slamming back into you, hands gripping your hips tightly. He set a brutal pace, and your head rolled back, your moans and cries filling the air. With the way your head was, it caused your back to arch, meaning your breasts were right in his face. With zero hesitation, he took one into his mouth, sucking and toying with the nipple in his mouth. Releasing it, he switched to the other one, making sure to give both apt attention. 

Tugging at his hair, you brought his attention upwards. Smashing your lips against his, your kiss was open-mouth and messy, more tongue and teeth than anything. His hips were snapping against yours, incessant as he pounded into you. 

“Yes! Charles,” you wailed, tearing your lips away from his to do so. He kept his lips busy, nipping and kissing the skin at your jaw and neck. A particularly hard bite had you gasping, and you felt him smirk against your skin. Your senses were completely overwhelmed in the best way; all that you could register was him, the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he looked. 

He leaned over you now, broad arms caging your head in. His dark hair fell in waves around him, blocking out any other visual in the room. All you could do was look at him, and he was a sight for sore eyes. Color had long since returned to his cheeks, the skin there darkening with exertion. His eyes were locked on to you, dancing around your face and chest like he couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to look at. His plush lips were parted, soft gasps of air leaving him with each thrust.

Another snap of his hips had you grasping at his back and shoulders, pleasuring washing over you as another orgasm began to build up. Your nails dug into his skin, no doubt leaving marks, but it didn’t seem to deter him. In fact, he let out a low moan, and it had your cunt clenching around his cock. 

Babbling his name, your nails ran down his back, leaving in its wake angry red lines. “You feel so good… like you were made for me.”

“My love…” he sighed, and one of the hands at the side of your head cupped your face,  bringing you right to his lips. His length was reaching places in you that you didn’t know existed, filling you deep and hard, just like you wanted. You were going to become addicted to him. 

“I’m so close, Charles…” Releasing one of his shoulders, you snaked your hand between your bodies, moving to start touching yourself. You weren’t expecting him to quickly grasp your wrist, bringing it out of the way and replacing your hand with his much larger one. He began to rub at your clit, slow circular movements that juxtaposed the fast in-and-out of his cock. His ministrations had you seeing stars, and you felt yourself reaching completion again that night. 

“Charles, I-”

“I know. Let me feel you fall apart.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

His slow movements turned rapid, groaning when he felt you clench around him. With a cry of his name, you came, pleasure rolling over you in waves. This one was stronger than the first, feeling like every nerve in your body had been set aflame. Your eyes rolled back, the world temporarily turning dark as your eyelids shut. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, a reverent look in his gaze. With the way your walls were fluttering around him, and the quickened pace of his hips, you knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer either.

His arms went back around your head, continuing to move as he chased his own release. You heard him gasp out, quickly pulling out of you, and you let out a discontent noise as he no longer filled you. He stroked himself a few times, hand moving fervently up and down his length. If you weren’t so fucked out of your mind, you would’ve had taken him in your hand yourself, wanting to feel him as well. Moaning your name, you watched as he came, his release spilling over your stomach. His hips canted forward a few times as he worked through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

You loosened your legs that were wrapped around his waist, and silence hung over the two of you as you both processed what just happened. A small laugh left you, breaking the trance, and you saw him smile back at you, mirroring his laughter with his own. You watched him grab the blanket that was still bundled up on the floor, and he tore off a section of it, the sound of fabric ripping startling you slightly. 

Wiping his release from your skin, he tossed the soiled cloth to some corner of the room. It’s not like this was your place, anyways. Opening your arms, you invited him to lay with you, and he gladly accepted. He was careful to keep his full weight off of you, but he still lay partially on top of you, his head resting on your chest. It was comforting, and you felt yourself begin to grow a bit sleepy. “Are you warm yet?” You teased, running your fingers soothingly through his hair, and you felt his chest rumble with laughter.

“I think so,” he responded, bringing the blanket around your bodies. The fire was starting to die down, but neither of you moved to add fuel to it. He murmured something, and you gave an inquisitive sound. “I love you,” he repeated, his brown eyes filled with emotion as he stared up at you.

“I love you, too.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he quickly shut it. “What is it?” You asked, and he sighed, his warm breath tickling you.

“Does that mean you’ll stay?”

In all honesty, you had completely forgotten about your earlier conversation. The vulnerability in his voice had your eyes watering, and it didn’t take much thinking to reach your answer. Sure, you were scared for the future of the gang, and you were scared that with each passing day you’d find yourself closer and closer to finding your end at a rope or a barrel, but none of those fears mattered, not anymore. Not when you finally had all that you wanted in your arms. And who knows, maybe you’d end up leaving in time, but you knew you wouldn’t be leaving alone.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. Besides, you still owe me a date.”

His responding smile solidified that you had made the right decision. Whatever the future held, you knew it would be easier with Charles by your side.

[h2llish]

⁀➷ ˖ spooky, scary, probably

notes ─── happy halloween i guess. i was hit by a wave of inspiration and wrote this in like an hour.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR | VIL SCHOENHEIT ─ you want to really lean into the "spooky" of spooky season.

warnings ☆ fluff? (or perhaps crack? it's silly and short), read platonic or romantic, gender neutral, lowercase intended, reader may or may not be yuu

"hey, can you help me with something?"

leona would often times tell you to get lost, to leave him alone and let him sleep. but after peeking an eye open to look at you, that wasn't what came out of his mouth ─ "what are you wearing?"

"it's my costume." you answered simply, glancing down at the clothes that look like you took a pair of scissors and tore at it until it looked shredded and unwearable. (and that's exactly what you did, sort of; it was already old and worn, you just made it even more so with a few extra aggressive tears.)

leona sent you a questioning look, lips curled up in a mamner you knew meant he was judging you, but you weren't all that bothered. "what are you supposed to be?" ─ he didn't let you answer as he sat up and examined you from where you stood at his door, following up the question with another ─ "and what is on your face?"

you knew he was talking about the makeup made to look like gauges and blotches in your face to really sell your role in your costume. it was well done too, you had gotten help from someone you deemed an expert beforehand. it took a while before you made a decison on the look, but in the end, you were happy with the results.

you stared at leona for a moment, waiting to see if he'd ask anything more, and then you answered, "i'm like a zombie. and it's makeup. vil helped me. he's pretty good at it, actually."

leona stared at you, more bemused as he eyed your diy costume from head to toe, "you look ridiculous."

"i look great," you corrected him, as if that's really what he meant, "you think it'll scare people? i was hoping to spook the others, or at least some of them."

leona scoffed, but chose not to comment on your decision to scare your peers as he referred to the reason you came to see him, "what do you want?"

"oh, right," you held up a decently sized bottle of red, what looked like, paint. "i need you to help cover me im this fake blood."

"i take it back, you're ridiculous."

"rude. so yes or no?"

"fine. but not in here."

vil has learned that when you set your mind to things ─ ridiculous as they may be ─ you tried hard to fulfill them. sometimes you failed but, then there times you went through with them, completed your self-given mission.

he was used to hearing about these ideas you just had to go through with (your words). ─ like right now.

"so skeletons are scary right?"

vil glanced at you as you took a seat beside him on the bench, looking to be deep in thought. (and he had to stop himself from sighing.)

"what?" he asked, closing the script he was reading (one written by you for his film research club) with his thumb in between the pages.

"skeletons," you repeated, "they're common for halloween because they're scary, right?"

a rhetorical question, he realized ─ but he answered anyway. "yes. that's right."

you nodded thoughtfully and hummed, bringing a hand to your chin and going silent. vil prepared himself for anything you might say ─ and he knew it would likely be ridiculous, because that's what your ideas often were; ridiculous and lacking sense, but nonetheless, in a way, thought through.

"what about, if it was the muscles?"

"the," he paused, "the muscles?" ─ he asked, as if to be sure he heard you right.

"yeah," you nodded, your face showing just how serious you were in your words, and vil wondered just where you were going with this. "like skeletons are pretty scary. but what if, say, you suddenly just see fully intact human muscles coming towards you. wouldn't that freak you out?"

vil asks himself often where you come to think of such things, and yet, he still does not know. ─ "well, i suppose it would."

you nodded again, "i think i could make it work. with a little help from magic and makeup, i'm sure i could pull off a convincing costume."

of course that's where this was going ─ you were going to dress up as the muscles in the human body, just like one would when dressing up as a skeleton.

"you think you could help me?"

vil sighed, "alright."

─ it's never a dull moment with you, he thinks.

do not repost, translate, copy, or run my writing through ai.

[lostalioth]

Could you make Sam, Dean, or Cas(one or all whatever you feel like but I love Sam🫶) with like an alternative/goth person? I can describe me as an example, real short with fluffy purple mid-length hair, tons of piercings and genderfluid(uses all pronouns), with a slim thick but still more of a slim thick/chubby/muscular with great humor like Deadpool as you loved animals and horror games. I love going to concerts and art, anything creative and going to college for marine biology/zoology!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘩/𝘢𝘭𝘵!𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳

warnings: gender neutral!reader (or i did my best to), goth/alt!reader (if i failed at describing that im sorry as well), reader described to wear eyeliner/makeup and jewelry and piercings mentioned, short sweet fluff with sammy boy.

a/n: a couple things i did my best to write this as gender neutral as i could? i may have failed as i tpcially write x female reader but i tried and i didnt know exactly what you wanted me to write besides one of the supernatural boys with an alt/goth person so sorry its just a short headcannon :) also this is my frist time writing for any of the supernatural boys so im sorry if he is out of character.

Sam loves to do your eyeliner for you on the days when you just don't feel up to it, your full makeup look often takes you a minute to complete. Of course as with everything Sam gets very dedicated to it and so he only does it after he has perfected it, not wanting to ruin your look with imperfect liner. Meaning sometimes it may just take longer in the end than if you did it on your own. You could care less though because as Sam does it, he will have a very soft grasp on your face and or neck the whole time. Softly caressing your skin with his thumb mindlessly in focus. The small action always makes your heart swell.

Plus: after almost 2 weeks of begging and endlessly promising to never show or tell Dean, he lets you do your signature eyeliner look on him. He wouldn't let you do your full regular makeup look on him but you were happy he even agreed to the eyeliner.

“Babe I promise you're gonna look so cool once I'm done” you gush with a small smile on your face. You had a hold on his chin to force his head still. You were currently sat on his lap in your shared room at the bunker, Him being sat on your vanity chair.

“You're lucky i love you princess” he chuckled softly and rubs his hands over your thighs, giving them a small squeeze as continue working on your masterpiece.

Speaking of your shared bedroom in the bunker, with your and Sam's combined wardrobes there was a severe lack of color. The both of you favoring black and darker colors.

You require attention from San often even when he is on one of his research deepdives. So Sam doing whatever he can to keep his girl happy worked it out that he will do his researching on the couch. That way you can lay out next to him with your head in his lap. He often finds himself playing and fidgeting with your necklaces or ear piercings, facial piercings, etc.

You have a darker sense of humor that tends to come out at inopportune moments on hunts. It never fails to break tension however and get a small laugh out of both the brothers.

Sam isn't all that big on PDA but loves giving you small random shows of affection, his hand rubbing your shoulder, a small squeeze of your hip in passing. His favorite though being small kisses of appreciation, reassurance, etc. though after a small and not entirely compliant of him messing up your makeup when he'd kiss your face and how it took you a long time. He began turning the small kissing habit into kissing your hand, the top of your head, your shoulder, anywhere but your face when you had your full makeup look on.

When you’d tag along on hunts with the boys Sam bought you a small vial necklace that matched all your other jewelry for you to wear and fill with holy water. Just in case you needed it.

The brothers also found out the hard way that when you're fully dressed up in your gothic/alternative look on hunts the three of you are often turned away at churches. You learned to pack a more normal outfit to switch into if it's necessary to step foot in church. You also easily overheat with your all black clothing. Sam started always keeping the AC on in the impala, at least when he's in the driver's seat that is.

Sam finds himself tracing or kissing your anti-possession tattoo that you had gotten alongside them. You don't often go on hunts with them, Sam being far too worried and nervous about your well being. He's concerned you'll get hurt even not out on hunts so he was relieved when you agreed to get the tattoo when they did. He wants nothing more than for you to be safe and happy.

“I will always protect you baby you know that right?” Sam questions softly as his finger traces around your shared tattoo and any others you have.

“I know that sweet boy” you smile fondly at your boyfriend and snuggle closer in his arms.

→ a/n: PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK AND HOPE YOU ENJOYED BABES AND SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS THIS WASNT PROOF READ :)

[inkyycapp]

Yokai!matsu kidnapping reader..? It ticks a few things at once. Oh! Oh! They're kidnapped cos they were found injured, but even after they've healed the yokai brothers (seperately) refuse to let them go.

Cough, cough. I love this, cough.

You're getting hcs too.

Ahem

Slight notice! I did some minor research for this, but even then I'm still unsure !! If anything is wrong please do tell me !!

(Uh so, really bad weather rn. Wifi going in and out and tornadoes lurking around, so, like that's rad ig !! Forgive me.)

Tw/Cw: Injuries, slight mention of blood, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome if you squint, manipulation(?), desperation, spelling/grammar(?), probably a little or a lot ooc I'm terrible at telling !! Forgive me !!

Youkai!Matsu x Injured!Reader

( Yokai!Matsu but used Youkai for letter colors..:D )

Small reader context !!

For whatever reason you're in the mountains doing whatever your mortal self does up there. A sharp pain shoots through your leg causing you to slip. Your foot set off a bear/fox trap. A group of bandits or just overall bad people--who one would assume set the trap--find poor injured you.

You don't have much on hand. Maybe you have a weapon, maybe you don't. But, regardless of how hard you fight, there are just more of them the there are of you.

Osomatsu

Oni

-He doesn't hate humans, but he doesn't actively like them either. He's more neutral about it.

-Like, he wouldn't go out of his way to help/save them, that's way too much work for him. But, he also wouldn't go out of his way to kill someone unless they really pissed him off.

-Doesn't really understand humans, but somewhat understand and takes a small liking to bits of their culture and activities.

-Actually fairly in with the times, but doesn't really try enough to be in with the times, y'know?

-Obviously takes part in gambling with the humans regardless of the time period.

-He finds that you're injured and probably not going to make it out of the situation alive.

-While at first he's slightly indifferent about your situation, he recognizes you from the village below. He probably asked for money and you gave it to him, or maybe you work at one of the place he frequents, but for whatever reason, he may be persuaded to help.

-You're already unconscious and he can't help but feel pity for you. Pretty nasty leg injury. Maybe he should help.

-And, so, he does!

-After attending to your Injuries best he could, he decided to wait for you to come around. He'll admit, the patch up was sloppy, but it did the job, that's what matters.

-Eventually, you'd come around and find yourself face to face with the devil himself. Whether fearful or not, this would take some...adjusting.

-Compared to the known sterotype, he seems more lax and less...demonic.

-He finds you interesting. Somehow, that curiosity hadn't faded one moment since he's found you. Expect some questions personal, even perverted, or not.

-Dislikes when you get up or move around without his help. Though, more chill and just lightly scold you for straining yourself.

-Then, soon, one day you're all better. But, he doesn't want you to leave. How strange. He didn't think he'd be this...attached to someone like yourself. Not like that, bit it's weird to him.

-He had seen humans come and go--grow old and die. He's never been this comfortable with humans before he'd met you. He doesn't want you to leave. Will you ever see each other again after you part ways? Probably not, but he doesn't want to take that chance.

-So, you can't leave just yet.

Karamatsu

Shikigami

-Karamatsu loves humans/humanity the MOST out of this list. He often tries to be 'in' with the culture no matter the time period. He goes through many "phases" trying to be what the humans deem is cool in certain points of time.

-He loves to collect and tell stories that humans tell, though can sometimes stretch it a little for a more theatrical performance.

-He often tries to interact with people and walk amongst them. But, it usually never goes well.

-His brothers often tease, but he's restless in his search for a human Karamatsu boy or girl.

-When he found you in the snow plains, a red staining the snow around you, he didn't hesitate to check out the scene.

-A group of people trying to take advantage of a defenseless Karamatsu boy or girl !! Of course he felt the need to intervene and help the poor soul.

-He manages to scare off the bandits, but by the time he gets to you, you're already out. It pains him to see such a beauty in so much pain.

-Karamatsu, without so much as a second thought, takes you somewhere much safer. A nice small cabin deep in the woods. That's where he nurses injured you back to health.

-At first, you're probably shocked, but maybe around the first week mark, you'll probably get used to it. If not, don't worry! You'll have a long time to adjust!

-He's very curious about you and the humans you surround yourself with. His knowledge of the culture is a little outdated, not by much. Still, it's nothing compared to understanding the real thing.

-He doesn't like when you try to get up. You need to recover. You'll probably hurt yourself! Don't worry, he'll do it for you!

-Honestly, just wants you to be safe. By far, you're the first human that he's ever gotten this close with--both metaphorically and literally.

-He just wants to keep you safe. There are monsters lurking both human and spirit. Surely you know.

-Karamatsu had already taken a liking to you since he met you, but over the time of your recovery, he's grown too attached to let you leave.

-You'll stay, won't you?

Choromatsu

Tengu

-Also kind of neutral, more lenient towards pretty humans. It's so painfully obvious, his brothers tease him about it, though he's incredibly indenile.

-While claiming he doesn't have an obvious leniency towards pretty humans, it is obvious to literally anyone. Including the mortals down in the villages.

-Choromatsu won't go out of his way to harm anyone he considers "pretty or cute", though his idea of pretty and cute is complicated! Not always about looks, but mannerisms, actions, etc.

-He spots you before. And, he folds at first glance. It's not difficult to be encouraged to help you. You're practically a sparkly treasure to be collected and safe guarded.

-But, then he watches as you're injured self begins to get surrounded by the group that seemed to have caught you.

-Choromats had quickly intervened, chasing off the group (probably off a cliff), before returning back to you.

-Laying in the snow, you were out cold and didn't seem to respond at all, your pulse being the only thing noting you're still alive.

-Won't deny, he was absolutely panicking at first, figuring out how to clean your injures properly.

-Eventually, he does somewhat figure it out, and once you're stable he takes that time to breathe. And, well, admire your sleeping form. Not in a creepy way, but just studying you.I

-When you do come around, he's trying and failing with his words for a moment.

-Takes care of you, and while he does often nag you, he's more so worried about how your recovery is coming along.

-Tends to kinda hover, keeping a close eye on you, telling you to lay down and get rest and that he can do whatever it was you wanted to get up to do.

-Will refuse to let you get up and do anything for yourself. Why have you do it when you have him? A literal waste, really!

-Even if he sees your coming around and the healing process is moving quicker than he wants, he still refuses to let you do anything.

-Now comes the time when you're ready to leave the nest. Pun.

-He obviously begs you to stay, much without words. Choromatsu doesn't want you to go now that he's oh so attached! You can't go. You won't leave, will you?

-Please don't leave .

Ichimatsu

Kitsune

-Ichimatsu, opposed to Karamatsu, probobly hates humans/humanity the most on this list.

-Often times, he was the cause of some humans lost or missing on the mountain. Though, he wouldn't go out of his way for anything unless angered or maybe he just felt malicious that day.

-Humans find him captivating despite his dislike for them. Even so, he won't admit it, but they do fascinate him on some occasions.

-He spots the bandits first, then you after he gets rid of those loud bandits that woke him from his nap. He considers getting rid of you, too.

-But, you're asleep. And, it seemed your leg is caught pretty badly. It doesn't seem like you'll be able to move far with your leg like that. You'll probably be dead in a matter of hours. He doesn't have to do a thing.

-No, he doesn't feel bad for you. Not one bit. You're just an unlucky human caught by the foot like some poor rabbit.

-Ichimatsu does somehow end up carrying you off elsewhere--somewhere more comfortable. Don't be mistaken, he may be helping you, but no further than this.

-Once you're safe in the small cabin, he does the bare minimum with your injuries and once your stable, he leaves.

-You'll wake up alone, and it'll probably be like that for maybe a few hours before you're visited by a stranger.

-Ichimatsu takes care you you between visits, though he doesn't speak to you often. You're probably scared being so close to a monster like himself.

-But, you grow comfortable in his presence and attempt to talk to him. Something he finds real odd, but almost sweet. He still doesn't talk to you though, but he almost wants to.

-His visits grow more frequent, and he even began bringing you gifts. Like dead animals. But, it's the thought that counts!

-He ends up more attached than he would've liked to admit. And, unlike some people on the list, he's more blunt that you remain here with him.

-You'll be stuck with a monster trash like him, but at least here he can keep you warm and fed.

-You're staying put. There's no reason for you to leave anyways.

Jyushimatsu

Inugami

-Honestly, it doesn't matter to Jyushimatsu. He's fairly friendly to any and all who walk in his path. Many run, but it doesn't bother him much.

-Though, if he had to love one thing about them, he absolutely loves their sports and activities. Often goes with Karamatsu to go take part in "human activities".

-But as one can assume, they get comically outed.

-Is fairly kind opposed to some on this list. He won't go out of his way to harm humans regardless how he feels, though when it comes to helping it's a 50/50. Normally at least tries. But, if he doesn't like you, he'll probably just watch with a lead stare.

-When he found you in the snow, you were surrounded, and he had accidentally hit one of the people with a baseball. Completely by accident. But, kinda thinks maybe the accident wasn't that much of an accident.

-Ends up completely making a fool of the group when leading them away. But, he quickly returns to where you had been laying.

-Similar to Choromatsu, he panics at first and is so unsure about how to go about this situation. Obviously he doesn't want to make it worse, but he really doesn't want you to die.

-He carries you off to the small cabin to tend to your wounds. It's sloppy patch-job, but it's alright.

-Watches you while you sleep. Pokes you now and again. When you don't move for too long Jyushimatsu does tend to panic a little but settles when you finally take in that breath of air.

-When you do wake up, he's happy you're up and not dead. Sure, he may not feel too bad if you died, but only because he didn't have a close enough connection to care, but that wouldn't mean he wouldn't care.

-Jyushimatsu tries to stay the entire time your recovering. While he does hover a little, he's more considerate of your space.

-Does whatever he can to make you laugh. Whether it's acting out a skit, telling jokes or just being goofy.

-Doesn't care if it makes him look dumb. As long as he at least gets a smile out of you it doesn't matter.

-Gets way too attached way to quick. And, when you're all better, he gets a little (lying) clingy.

-Whines and may even howl like a kicked puppy. Might even do tricks if it gets you to stay.

-Don't leave yet!!

Todomatsu

Baku-Danuki

-Todomatsu doesn't hate them, but he doesn't care for them either, similar to Osomatsu. However, he's more in with their culture, more so than Karamatsu. Only because he thinks it's cute.

-Prefers some time period clothing to others and can tend to stand out, but language is definitely up to date.

-He views humans/humanity as beneath him, or simply to play into his enjoyment. He has no issues getting rid of anyone that doesn't gives him what he wants out of an interaction. Absolutely stone cold.

-He spots a few humans gathering around, and grows curious as to what grabbed their attention.

-Their wares seem to interest him. Then, there's you. After disposing of the others, he's left with unconscious you. What to do with you.

-Well, you could be useful. You'll pretty much be indebted to him for saving you. Or, at least you should be.

-So, he drags you away from the scene, tenderly caring to your wounds, putting on a sweet and kind persona.

-When you awaken, he greets you gently, coming forward as the one who saved your life after he found you on the brink of death in the snow.

-Skeptical or not, you come around and thank him however you would. Already gaining praise from you. Admittedly, the praise feels...nicer than it should. He brushes it off, what else can he get from you.

-He slyly asks you questions, gaining more information of your personal life over a week, maybe two.

-You get up to do something, and being the ever so kind savior, he takes you back to bed, doing the task for you instead. Not that he wants to. He's playing the long game with your little life.

-But, you thank him, telling him just how kind he is. Todomatsu can't help but grow addicted to that feeling. Being appreciated and validated.

-Slowly, but surely, he begins to grow a bit (a lot) attached. He didn't think it was possible. But, soon he doesn't see you as just a human, but as you.

-Once you get better, he does contemplate poisoning you to get you to stay. Not much to kill you, but enough so he could still take care of you.

-Todomatsu doesn't do it. But, he has heavily considered it.

-He will try his damndest to get you to remain in this little cabin with him.

-You can't go yet! You need him!

So funny that Osomatsu and Karamatsu are my favorites in general, but Todomatsu is my favorite to write for, and Jyushimatsu is my favorite to draw. What.

I still dislike Choromatsu. There is no reason for it.

Anyway if you're here, try Arizona RX Energy Herbal Tonic Tea. It's so damn good. That's all lmao !!

[obsessedwithspiderman2099]

Hello Evie! I see you’re available to take requests.

May I ask for a scenario where Spider![Reader] [Gender Neutral or Female] tries to impress Miguel O’Hara (The two are already in an established relationship)?

Examples: [Reader] attempted to capture as many Anomalies as possible (but almost died during the process and needed backup).

Too much..

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara x Overworking spider person Reader

Word count: 1317

Synopsis: sometimes overworking yourself isn’t the best thing to do before going on a mission…

A/N: Oh em gee. This was so good and juicy to write!! Thank you so much for requesting! Hope you like how it turned out.

“One more mission couldn’t hurt, right?”

You muttered to yourself, looking at the yellow screen in front of you displaying all the current available anomaly’s to catch in the universes. It had been the second week that you’ve officially been a member in the spider society. Of course, the what ifs and anxiety came along with you. Miguel was more than happy to give you a spot at the society since you technically were a spider woman, and you couldn't have been more excited.

But there was always the what-ifs that constantly followed.

What if the other spider people thought you weren’t talented enough to have landed this position on your own? What if they thought you were just using Miguel? What if- Your thoughts were interrupted by the familiar voice of your boyfriend.

“Hey baby, what are you doing?”

You quickly face him, slightly looking up to meet his eyes. “Oh I was just about to ask if I could do one more mission.” You say, giving a small smile as your eyes look back to the screen.

“Another one? But you’ve already done three today.” Miguel raised an eyebrow, skeptical at your request.

“Oh I didn’t even get a scratch on me, I’d be totally fine to complete another.” Shrugging it off with your fake confidence, you answered.

“Are you sure?” “Yeah I can do it.”

He gave a proud smile, pulling you into a hug. A genuine smile pulling at your lips, you give in and hug him back. The two of you gently rock back and forth, almost melting into each other's touch.

After a good moment of being like this, Miguel kisses your forehead before pulling away. A small frown replaces the previous smile at the loss of his touch, and you look back up to him.

“I’m sorry baby, I gotta get back to work..You have another anomaly to catch too now.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you after. Empanadas for dinner?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

You giggle as he pulls you in for a goodbye kiss, and find yourself ready to go to the next problem awaiting you.

Truth be told, you were exhausted.

After going on multiple missions everyday that were really hard for you, it was starting to show. But you had to prove to everyone why you got your position here. You had to prove to Miguel. And maybe, you had to prove it to yourself the most.

A yawn escaped your lips as you walked through the portal to another earth in need of help.

Immediately you were hit with an overwhelming rush of hot air. Although you did your research on the anomaly, unfortunately you forgot about the earth it was on..

When you opened your eyes, the sight you were met with was a bit concerning. Mountains upon mountains of trash were set ablaze, with an orange sky and no trace of any humans of civilization in sight. You had a really bad feeling about this…. But you had to push through, you couldn’t just back out now. What would everyone think?

“Besides, it’s just a weird environment. Just get the anomaly and go.” You thought to yourself out loud, trying to convince yourself not to chicken out. Not that you have before or anything, the energy was just so draining in this world. Something about it….

Your thoughts were interrupted when a familiar evil voice started to speak.

Doc Ock.

Your spidey sense immediately went off, and you spun around to come face to face with the villain.

“Ah! Well if it isn’t Peter Park- wait… you're not Spider-Man.”

“Yeah yeah I know. listen, can we make this quick? I have to catch up on love island.”

He scoffed. “You might not be him, but you have the same annoying personality.” Doc Ock said before starting to launch his metal arms at you, which you quickly dodged.

The two of you started fighting, you trying to web his tentacles up, and him trying to kill you. While trying to disarm him, he manages to grab you by the foot when you're caught off guard and slam you to the ground. A groan escapes you, and with all your strength you stand back up. You face him again, and the two of you start to fist fight.

Obviously the size difference isn’t ideal, but your strength and training always come in handy during times like these. You both manage to land a couple hits, although yours hit harder. While continuing the unnecessary-long fight, it seems like the heat continues to worsen.

That with the combined exhaustion you’ve been ignoring starts to weigh down more on you than ever, and you're definitely a bit out of it.

Doc Ock lands a hit on your face, sending you falling back.

He takes this opportunity and uses it to grab your neck with a metal tentacle, beginning to choke you. You struggle, gasping for air and desperately fighting back.

“What’s wrong Spider-Man? Heat getting to you?”

The villain taunted before slamming another tentacle on your ankle, and you think it’s broken with all the pain that immediately erupts from it.

You let out a sob of pain, trying to breath and cry at the same time. Small black circles start to cloud your vision, and everything starts to get blurry. Suddenly he seems to let you go, but with all the overwhelming pain you don’t notice yourself back back down.

Head on the ground and face on its side, you barely see the flashes of colors and a large figure comes running towards you before everything suddenly fades to black.

You gasp for air, eyes shooting open and shaking only to be met with overwhelmingly bright lights.

“Woah woah there, calm down! Everything’s ok.” You immediately recognize the voice of your boyfriend, and you turn to see him. Miguel’s loving reddish-brownish eyes greet you, with the usual lack of sleep present right under them.

Your breathing calming down ever so slightly, you look around. In a hospital bed, you see the familiar walls of the spider society’s medbay. Slightly Afraid to look at your own injuries, you focus back on your love.

“Oh Miguel….” You say, reaching forward to give him a hug. The only thing you wanted right now was the feel of his skin. He quickly captured you in his arms, you melting like butter under his touch. The two of you stay like that for a long time, regret and shame already pooling inside you.

“I-I’m so sorry…” Your voice cracked from trying to keep tears in, but they came flooding out. “No no no, you have nothing to apologize for.” His soothing voice said, holding you tight and slightly rocking the two of you back and forth.

“I-I was so stupid.. I couldn’t even catch one doc Ock..-“

“baby that was the fourth mission you’ve been on today. That's way too much for a beginner to try. Jesus.. I didn’t realize how much you’ve been overworking yourself. I’m so sorry I didn’t know…” His words made you feel even more shameful, your shoulders sinking.

“It sounds really stupid but I guess I was just trying to… I don’t know, impress everyone? I don’t know, it’s just been kind of intimidating with everyone else having so much experience and me just.. being stupid..”

“Hey, look at me.”

Your eyes immediately meet his.

“You’re not stupid. You’re strong, and capable, and you’re on this team for a reason. I love you so much and I just wish you could see yourself the way I do.” His large hand cupping your cheek, you subconsciously lean into it. Into the touch. “I love you y/n.” Your heart seemed to warm at his words.

The tears have stopped falling, like the end of a rainfall. And the rainbow that comes after was presented as a smile on your face.

“I love you too Miguel.”

[yanderes-galore]

for rq period: yandere tmnt03 donnie concept?

I'll try my best! He isn't as fleshed out as the others in 2003... So I'll try my best ^^; Sorry if it's vague, I'm more well-versed in 2012 and Rise.

Yandere! 2003! Donatello Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Controlling behavior, Stalking, Tracking, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Cameras, Picture taking, Delusional behavior, Isolation, Drugging, Forced relationship.

Donatello is one who puts those around him before himself.

He often neglects his own needs at times just so he can care for his loved ones.

He's the smartest of the four turtles, a clever inventor and tactician.

He values education and science more than his actual ninjutsu studies at times.

He's a pacifist and isn't as physically resilient as his brothers from what I've seen.

Yet he's still a decent fighter with his quick wit and planning.

He always comes prepared, always tries to think things through...

Similar to his other iterations, he would try to plan things out in his obsession.

Things need to be perfect to make a plan work for him.

Donatello is often gentle and calm, never wanting to cause unnecessary harm.

He rarely loses his temper and I imagine this version of Donnie isn't all that... confrontational.

Not many of them are, but still....

The only time this turtle is ever violent or aggressive is when he's mutated into a large monster.

That's it.

For the most part... You being his obsession isn't that bad.

As long as you're okay with mutant turtles.

He honestly just seems like he'd be such a respectable sweetheart to you as his obsession.

Although he does seem to know... too much?

As expected, Donatello would research his obsession like they're his newest project.

As sweet as he is, he's keeping track of everything you do.

He's not possessive since he's usually against confrontation.

However... He is obsessive and protective.

Donatello knows all sorts of things about you.

He knows more than any of your closest friends, in fact, at some point he'll know more than your own family...

Or even yourself.

Donatello soaks in information like a sponge.

The moment he learns something new about you, he's noting that down like his life depends on it.

Now... Donatello would have all sorts of information about you.

He has a notebook or two dedicated to you.

He just lacks the courage and confidence to actually do anything with said info other than stutter and stare.

Donatello is socially awkward.

He's caring and attentive towards you and your well-being...

Yet struggles on how to express his overwhelming feelings towards you.

It's not like he can tell you about his notebooks...

Or why he knows all of this info....

While you're unaware, Donatello gets to work with scraping up any sort of info he can find on you.

He stalks you everywhere.

He puts trackers on your clothes, belongings, car...

This turtle has your entire routine memorized.

Donatello has to be careful when speaking with you as his obsession continues.

He may accidentally say something he shouldn't know...

Only to make you both awkwardly stare at one another before trying to change the conversation.

Donatello tries so hard to impress you.

He gets into all the things you like, he builds new inventions and gadgets just for you to look at them.

Just a warning, if you take a phone from him, you are definitely being tracked now.

Donatello just seems so socially awkward and relaxed when you speak to him.

You have no clue how unhinged he is behind the scenes.

Donatello stays up late at night to track you, research you, watch you...

But you're oblivious.

You just see him tired and think he's overworking himself again.

Being cared for by you just adds to his obsession.

Donatello no doubt sets up cameras in spots you frequent and is always recording for himself.

That and he has secret photos he took of you at night, keeping them tucked away in his room.

Donatello is infatuated with you.

It's quite obvious to him... The notebooks, footage, pictures, tracking...

His habit of leaving home to follow you....

Donatello knows he doesn't deserve you.

Why would you?

He's a mutant turtle, you're a human.

You may not view him as a monster... yet you certainly wouldn't date him.

That breaks his heart...

But part of him still wishes to believe you can.

He can't stop thinking about such a fantasy, actually...

He dreams of it... dreams of you...!

He imagines protecting you, dating you, your praise, hugs, kisses...

He just imagines what it would be like to love you.

Such a thought nearly drives him insane.

While he is normally calm and able to control himself...

Imagine if he snaps and just decides to take you away.

In his delusional mind, Donatello thinks you'll understand.

In reality you won't... You don't understand his twisted mind.

Donatello is desperate for your love.

Desperate to the point he slips something in your food or drink... just to catch you when you fall into his arms unconscious...

Then he locks you somewhere no one will look... surrounded by pictures he took and cameras watching your every move...

With ropes around your body as you lay on a makeshift bed.

It may not be much now...

But he's planned out everything!

Your new relationship (which he just forced upon you) will begin just as he's dreamed it!

Except... Donatello needs you on your best behavior first...

He knows you may be nervous about your first date together... yet he'll try to compensate!

Your first date is tied up in a sewer surrounded by pictures of you that you didn't know existed.

He's so delusional when he has you.

He doesn't understand why you're so scared.

It's just him!

You know him, right? (You thought you did.)

He's your best friend! Soon to be boyfriend, actually!

He can't wait to start.

He can't wait to hold you, touch you, kiss you, love you...

But he must be patient!

He'll take things slow for you...

You may be nervous and scared now... But don't worry...!

You'll warm up to him eventually... Then he can continue to make things perfect between you! Just like in his fantasies!

[atoltia]

We all make our choices (don't go too far)

Eiland finds the farmer injured and bleeding at the entrance of the mines.

TW: blood, panic attack

Tags: angst with good ending

Eiland x gender neutral farmer

-0-

It was his fault.

He didn't know it would come down to something like this, didn't really think about the consequences of his decisions.

It was just so exciting at first. They'd finally have a chance to open the mines again. It just made sense in his mind. Despite the destruction the earthquake caused, it also shifted the land so much that artifacts and hidden ruins that were once completely hidden were much easier to find.

And that was great, no? Their museum needed that, needed new things to make it a place where people all around Aldaria would come to visit and be happy. Mistria definitely needed it, needed that sort of attention since he knew how much of a challenge it was just to get some of the scraps from the Capital, even with their mother and father's influence.

He just wanted what was best for Mistria, wanted what he knew would bolster their renown tenfold. It was for knowledge, it was for truth. It was selfless.

He was selfish.

He should've known, should've known, should've known. Should have listened to Errol when the man aired his concerns. Should have done more research about the mines that they had. Should have asked Olric about the things that lurked there.

But he didn't.

And you had to pay for it.

-0-

It was like any other day for you.

You did your morning chores, did your daily greetings, did your daily deliveries. You remembered spending a few minutes hanging out with Reina at the inn, with her talking about the latest recipe she was developing.

She gave you some, of course. She always made sure to save you a serving to take to the mines since it wouldn't do anyone good if you went hungry there.

And it wasn't like you'd ever refuse, even though you did think it was unnecessary. You know that you have a good head on your shoulders and wouldn't put yourself in any needless risk. Yes, accidents can happen but you've assured Dr. Valen multiple times that you'd get out of the mines the moment you get into trouble.

Yeah, you were in big trouble this time.

You remembered a rather peculiar mound of dirt at the thirty-fifth floor of the mines the last time you were there. It wasn't like you didn't see mounds of dirt anywhere else, but you knew, just knew it in your gut that there was something special there.

An artifact, maybe? It's been a while since you've gotten a legitimate artifact. The Caldosian sword that you've given to the museum was the last one and it's already been several months since you've found another one like it.

You hoped to find another one, even if it was a small piece of pottery or a broken stone tablet. You like seeing the museum fill up with artifacts from a different time, a different age. It was wonderful.

(And it also didn't hurt that it made Eiland ridiculously happy.)

It took a while for you to admit it. You didn't even want to think of it the first time you had the smallest inkling of it. You didn't come here for romance, not really. Retirement. That was the plan. To have a place to call your own, to earn an honest living without the stress and dangers of mercenary life. The mines provided enough thrill for when you needed it, anyway.

But there was something, a tiny little thing, whenever you see Eiland smile. There was that shine in his eyes that just blew away all the shadows that lodged in your heart. There was a melody to his laugh that you found you couldn't get enough of, couldn't get out of your mind. It made you go insane.

And you tried, didn't you? Tried so damn hard to just forget it, forget him, and just focus on your damn self.

Of course, we both know just how weak you are to such things.

He was just so goddamned earnest whenever he talked to you, whenever he rambled on about the history of an artifact that you've brought, of the history of this place, of the several nuances in the transitions from age to age - you didn't stand a chance.

So there you were, deep into the mines with a shovel and brush in hand, carefully extracting a broken piece of pottery engraved with words that you didn't understand.

Really, it was your fault for not fully clearing the area before you decided to dig.

You barely noticed it, barely heard the sound of the... blob? slime? heading straight towards you as you still had both hands deep into the dirt. But you felt it, though. You sure as hell felt it when a projectile the size of a fist hit you straight in the chest, hurting like a bitch.

Your sword was in your hand, quickly parrying the projectiles to send them back as you know it to be the most effective way to kill those blobs. But the throbbing at your chest distracted you too much, the blinding white of the pain making you blind.

You didn't see the other one.

It happened so fast you barely even felt it. You just knew that you fell back into the rocks, knew that you couldn't see a damned thing, and knew you had to get the fuck away.

The handles for the elevator levers were slick. It took several tries, several pulls before you were able to jumpstart the mechanism, wincing as several more projectiles hurled at your already battered body.

It took a minute. Sixty agonizing seconds before you finally reached the top of the mineshaft. Just get out, just get out, just get the fuck out and get some help.

You made it a few steps, one foot after the other, which in itself was a testament to your strength of will. Breathing was difficult and you could barely see as the world kept spinning, swaying, doubling and tripling.

You swore as your leg gave way, and once again you fell down, down to the ground as the cavern kept moving under your gaze, your hand the only thing to catch your fall. Just needed to get back, needed to get help, needed to -

The sight of your hand perplexed you.

It was like as it was normally, more scratched, dirt underneath your fingernails. But there was a slick to it, trailing down, down, dripping onto the floor.

You didn't realize your breath pick up, didn't realize the way your heart started beating wildly as you turned your eyes from your hand to your waist.

And then you saw nothing else.

-0-

He didn't know what he would have done if he didn't convince Errol to take that walk with him.

It was a cool night, the crisp autumn air a refreshing sensation against their skin as it blew away the slight inebriation they had after a few glasses of wine at the inn.

It wasn't all that late into the evening. The other townspeople would most likely still be at it for a few more hours yet. He knew that Adeline wanted him to take another hour more to just enjoy the merriment of the place, but he was just so ecstatic at the find he and Errol unearthed at the Western dig site.

Errol humored him, as he always did, and he did admit that he also wanted to get in a few more hours of work on the thing before heading to bed.

"I can't believe winter's coming around." The wind blew at Eiland's cape, rustling against his covered body. His soft, bubblegum pink hair dancing amidst the evening chill. "Adeline's already started with the logistics for this year winter festival with Nora, so we'll probably gonna be busy in the next couple of months."

He laughed, playfully nudging Errol at the next gust of wind when he stopped, raised a brow.

Eiland looked around, his brows furrowing as he turned. Errol stopped along with him, frowned as his companion did.

"Is there something wrong?"

"I think I saw something." Eiland kept turning, looking, his hands now pulling his cape closer to his body. "I think-"

He gasped, blinked, when he thought he saw the wind and leaves assemble themselves into the visage of a dragon. It held his gaze for a heartbeat, and then another, before rushing into the cave entrance.

Eiland followed without a moment's hesitation.

And almost gagged.

He saw you on the ground, eyes turning glassy as you weakly attempted to staunch your own wound.

There was blood, there was blood, there was so much blood as he stood there, eyes wide, body frozen. It was so dark, so dark and yet he could still see the glint of the one eye that peaked out from beneath your hair, the shine of it dulling by the second.

He didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to do, didn't know what to do please someone help, he didn't know what to do-

Eiland was pushed aside rather harshly as Errol stepped into the entrance, already pulling out a clean kerchief from his coat pocket. "Pull yourself together, Eiland!"

Dazed, still confused, Eiland stumbled forward to where you laid, choking in a sob when those blinking eyes of yours focused slightly the moment he got into your space, your bruised and bleeding lips quirking upwards into a soft, somewhat cocky smile at the mere sight of him.

"Don't look too good there, Pink."

"Don't talk," Eiland whispered as he desperately tried to apply pressure onto your wound. "Please." He tried hard to concentrate on the task at hand, pointedly ignored the heat of your blood on his hands. "Please just don't talk."

"Let's get them to Valen." And in one swift motion, Errol muscled you onto his wide, wide shoulders, marching as fast as he could towards town.

And still, the thick scent of iron never left his senses.

-0-

It was close to dawn when Eiland came back to the manor.

Yet the sun hasn't peaked through the horizon yet, hasn't broken the tight clutches of the night.

There were bags underneath his eyes, a paleness to his otherwise rich brown skin. His soft, pink hair mussed from being tugged at too many times that night.

The usual bounce that pepped his step was gone. That bright, enigmatic energy that bounded with him whenever he walked was nowhere to be seen.

It was touch and go, the doctor said. Minutes. It all came down to minutes. If he and Errol were a mere five minutes too late...

His legs buckled, his exhausted body hitting the wall with a loud thud, his elbow rapping against the stone when his hand wasn't fast enough to brace him.

The sharpness of the pain jolted him, woke him, pulled him back to reality as he felt the burn of the bile that he's been holding all night tickle at the back of his throat.

You almost died. He saw it clearly on Valen's face when she tended to you, saw the way her eyes turned stony when those deft hands of hers worked on you.

There was a grimness to it. Those first two hours were the slowest of his life as he waited for Valen's word. As he waited with baited breath, waited, prayed to the dragon that oversaw the ancient people of the land from a time long gone.

The dragon was there. He saw it. So he prayed to just- please, please, please wherever it was, he just pleaded for it to watch over you.

He clutched his chest, those long fingers of his tugging, his hands pushing at his chest with the heel of his palm as he just couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe-

Eyes, bright with panic, looked around desperately, looking for something to hold on to, something to help, someone to help. But there wasn't. He was alone, he was alone, he was alone and there was no one else there everyone else was already asleep he had no one there at the time oh god please please please just help him up just help him up please it was his fault it was his fault it was his fault he knew that it was his fault that you almost died please it hurts it hurts it hurts so much please-

"Eiland!"

He choked, tears falling down his face like a violent torrent as slender arms reached over, encircling them around his waist. Smaller, firmer hands pulling him into a comforting embrace as the other rubbed at his back.

"A-adeline?"

"I've got you."

She lowered his head onto her shoulders and just rocked him, rocked him until his body unclenched, until his breathing evened out. It didn't matter how long. Didn't matter how hard he clawed at the carpet. Her brother was in trouble. That was the only thing that she needed to know.

She smelled like the plum blossom perfume that she loved, the sweetness of his evident on her being. And yet it couldn't replace smell of iron on his nose, couldn't distract him from the shaking of his hands as he remembered your blood, slick and hot, painting them with a horrifying red.

It was there, it was there, it was still there no matter how hard he scrubbed them away to the point where his hands were rubbed raw.

Not even the visage of his beloved sister could take away the image of your broken body laying just a few feet away from the mines elevator, your blood pooling around your body as your one visible eye stared at him as if it was you who came to save him instead.

It was his fault, it was his fault, it was his fault.

"No," Adeline said as she shushed him, maneuvering his body into a more comfortable position while they sat on the floor, the light of dawn slowly breaking through the massive windows. "No, it's not."

"I pushed for the mines to open, it was my fault. I almost killed-"

"You did no such thing!"

"How do you know?" His voice was barely a whisper, a pathetic blow of air as he drenched his sister's shoulder with his tears. The hands that were clawing at the carpet, now ruined with his own blood, gripped at Adeline's dress. "How do you know?"

"I just do." The way his brother cried devastated her. In all the years that they've lived together, in the years that they grew up together, she's never seen him this way and it just tore her to shred.

She tugged him up. "You need sleep."

He didn't resist. Not even when she hauled him to his bedroom, not when she removed his cape, not when she urged him to take his boots off, not when she tucked him under the covers.

"I'll be here, " she assured him as she pulled a chair over. "Just go to sleep."

He fell asleep in seconds.

-0-

Eiland sprinted to the clinic by mid afternoon.

He just woke up and without any other thought, just bolted out of bed to go to you. He didn't know what time it was, found that he didn't care. He just knew that he needed to get to you.

He quickly rapped at the door, his bandaged fingers stinging, as he looked around the window, trying to see if he could get a glimpse of you.

Valen opened the door, and Eiland noted the bags under her eyes, but she smiled at him as she let him in, chuckling as he headed straight towards the single private room she had at the clinic.

He did his best to be quiet as he peered through the door, fully expecting you to be fast asleep.

You weren't, to his dismay, if the flutter to your eyes at the sound of his footsteps was an indication.

You've been in and out of sleep for the past few hours. Doctor Valen assured you that everything was going well, though you weren't sure if that was the truth or if she just didn't want to scare you any further.

There was barely any memory of that night. You remembered that you were getting artifacts, remembered that you got attacked. But other than that? Nothing.

So to wake up at the clinic was a surprise, if a little terrifying. You weren't really the type to be fond of clinics and hospitals, even though you should have been used to it given the requirement of it ordered by your guild.

You just had to suck it up since you were already there. You weren't stubborn enough to ignore an injury, especially when said injury left you bedridden for the whole damned day.

It was boring here, too. Maybe you could borrow a book from Valen later, but other than that, there was nothing else that you could do except for maybe sleeping another ten hours away.

So to have Eiland peep through the door was a welcome distraction.

And yet you frowned. His hair was in disarray. Exhaustion was evident on his face and there was a hollowness to his expression that upset you.

You didn't like that expression on his. Didn't like it one bit.

"How are you?"

There was a smile on that tired face, and you were a little relieved to see that it reached Eiland's eyes.

"I wanna go home," you said a little cheekily. "I hurt like hell and I wanna sleep on my own bed."

The chuckle that Eiland gave was all the lift you needed, ecstatic that it seemed to push the dark cloud over the man's head away. But it seemed to have come back just as quickly.

Eiland tried to hold it together, did his best to not show you just how terrified he was. But seeing you on the bed, with flecks of dried blood on your face and fingers, with bruises that littered your body, was very close to breaking him.

He sucked in a breath, closed his eyes as his fingers clutched at your bedsheets. His lips trembled so much that he bit it. Hard. But still it didn't stop the tears from flowing.

"I'm sorry."

You frowned. "What for?"

"It's just-" he looked away, tried to reach for the composure that was ingrained in him since a very young age. "I'll talk about it later, okay? After you've been discharged."

It upset you to not know what was hurting him like this, but seeing how he seemed like he was only being held together by a single thread, you let it go.

"Come here," you said when Eiland kept quiet. You took his hand when he reached over, tugged him closer to you, holding his trembling hand in yours.

"I was so scared," Eiland murmured as he massaged the back of your hand. "I was so scared that I-" He caught himself, inhaled. Looked away.

"I thought I was going to lose you."

You blinked at him. And it clicked.

You smiled.

"You won't. I promise."

And you held each other's hand even though the day grew long, even when Valen asked if Eiland would stay the night.

He did, of course. He wasn't going to leave you anytime soon.

---

Check out my masterlist! and feel free to send requests in if you like haha

So I thoroughly enjoyed writing the entirety of this lmao

angst is just so fun to write.

[sleeplesssmoll]

Fic idea: Vertin & Sonetto's internal conflicts create tension in their relationship.

I usually talk about their influence on each other but this is more about how their environments effected their internal thoughts, which therefore manifests outwardly in their dynamic with one another. Note: this is after their relationship is well-established. I need to get this fic idea off my chest so I can focus on my studies.

Sonetto

She's used to being a "martyr" where she works hard and expects nothing in return. Sometimes, this results in guilt when Vertin gives her "too much". While she's comfortable asking for little affections like a kisses and such, she isn't sure how to respond to grandiose gestures.

She is an absolute puppy BUT there comes a point where the Foundation's teachings make her feel worried and embarrassed. She has these big, strong emotions and the Foundation always told her they were dangerous. She starts making "rules" to keep herself in check. She doesn't want to get carried away by her emotions out of fear she might do something she'll regret. This results in her holding back instead of smothering Vertin with her usual puppy behavior. She tries to to use work and professionalism as an excuse, and while those are important to her, the hard truth is...she's afraid. She's afraid to be the emotional and impulsive arcanist that the Foundation demonized. She also experiences emotions she considers "ugly" like jealousy, possessiveness, and lust. She's changing and she isn't sure if she likes the person she's becoming, or worse, if this is her "true self" emerging.

Shame. She has a lot of it because she's very curious but her "prurient" thoughts make her feel like she's "wicked" or shameful. She does her best to keep it a secret from Vertin. Another issue she has is how and why Vertin knows things. Things she had to research. She doesn't want to think about Vertin's possible past relationships, but she can't help it.

When she's confused or doesn't know what to do, she falls back on the teachings she was raised with. She finds guidance and comfort in the lessons drilled into her head. It's familiar, where as these big emotions are not. The Foundation is still an important part of her life.

Sonetto fails to see how much she does for the Suitcase. She helps with paperwork, sorts through missions, and volunteers to do chores to keep the Suitcase running smoothly.

Sonetto tries to create "balance" and distance in their relationship even though she wants to get lost in Vertin too. She can't resist Vertin because in her heart she doesn't want to. She's still affectionate of course, but she's set up specific times for when she's allowed to be.

Once the body is trained, the mind will follow. This is the mantra the Foundation taught her to use to instill discipline in herself and overcome her arcanist blood. At least, that's what she hopes. So far it's backfiring and she wants more from Vertin instead of what she (really the Foundation) deemed "appropriate" .

Vertin

Sometimes when Vertin looks at Sonetto, she sees everything she has left to lose. This is one of the reasons she likes doing grandiose things for her. She also appreciates Sonetto's efforts in the Suitcase and her devotion. Vertin doesn't see her once in a while gestures on the same level as Sonetto's daily dedication and care.

She blames the Foundation for Sonetto's mindset. She appears neutral on the outside, but she's bitter that she can't be the true safe space Sonetto needs. She hates the Foundation, but she also needs their support in order to reach her true goals and stop the Storm. Sometimes she wonders about the day the Storm is finally stopped. She'll lose her purpose in the Foundation. Will Sonetto follow her if she leaves? If they kick her onto the street? The Foundation's presence looms over their relationship constantly. If the Storm doesn't take Sonetto away, the Foundation still might.

I may lose some people here, but hear me out. Vertin is very direct and open with affection in the late stages of their relationship. At first she was reserved, but as said before, she could lose Sonetto like she's lost others. Since she embraced her feelings for Sonetto, she'll never miss a chance to kiss her and hug her. She'll randomly say "I love you" just in case there's a chance she doesn't get to later. That being said, she HATES the new rules and distance Sonetto tries to create, especially because she senses bullshit. She doesn't understand why they can't be happy. Why is it wrong to be passionate? Why can't they be in love and get lost in one another? Why is there always another obstacle? Since she and Sonetto grew closer, she's been more expressive, dare say, vulnerable, with her feelings. She openly expresses her disdain for the rules. However, it's also hard for her to talk about her fear of losing Sonetto and the trauma. Also, she doesn't think it's a big deal so it's not worth mentioning. It's not Sonetto's problem, or at least so she thinks.

We know Vertin is a tactile person, but I'll take this one step further. Vertin hears people that no longer exist. She sees them in shadows. They haunt her dreams. But Sonetto is real. She's warm, soft, and very much alive. Vertin needs to touch her. It's stupid (according to her) but having her clingy puppy suddenly withdraw from her hurt a lot. She doesn't know how to put it into words without sounding pathetic but there's a comfort in physical touch. She's had no idea she could long for skinship like this until it was abruptly taken away.

Aside from the Storm, Vertin has other things she doesn't like to address. For example, lots of people grab her by the wrist and drag her around: the crew, the kids, even Sonetto. There's no malice, only excitement or urgency. Vertin reminds herself everytime. However, it triggers a sense of "restraint" in her. Vertin remembers the instructors hauling her to the guardhouse by her wrist. She remembers bullies holding her down because they couldn't win in a fair fight. She remembers being "assissted" into Artificial Somnambulism and having her legs broken afterwards. She remembers being trapped in Druvis’s cage with Schneider. Everytime she's been held down, bad things follow. But she knows her friends and allies don't mean her harm. It's her fault for being like this, so she tells herself to get over it. She doesn't. No matter how many times it happens, she still has that same reaction. She's good at hiding it though so no one notices. There are other small things about herself that she neglects. By the way, holding her hand is different. It makes her think of people like her friends who placed their hand over her's on the doorknob during the breakaway event. She thinks of Tooth Fairy, Madam Z, and their gentle grasps. She associates hand holding with love, instead of it triggering her flight it fight.

Vertin likes to blame herself for issues that may not be her fault either. She assumes she did something to make Sonetto upset, which is the real reason she's putting space between them. Eventually, she does try to behave, not because she agrees but because she wants to make Sonetto happy. She also feels guilty because she thinks about their childhood days where her pushy ways annoyed Sonetto. She mistakenly assumes she must have done something similar again. Vertin has a habit of trying to tempt Sonetto with a good time. A sneaky kiss, hugging her from behind while she works. Things like that to try and coax her puppy in for a cuddle, professionalism be damned. It's similar to how she used to try and lure Sonetto outside with frogs and pebbles when they were kids.

Despite these hardships and misunderstandings, there's never a point where one think the other is falling out of love. Their is a deep sense of loyalty and care for each other but once again they're missing the mark.

It's their childhood all over again!

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Nu carni boys receiving head

Some are more explicit than others so ♠️

Yakumo

He is in heaven! Maybe it's his snake side saying this but your warm mouth is like Nirvana. He really goes crazy if you hold eye contact with him while your head is bobbing up and down. He doesn't care if you deepthroat or just lick it like a lollypop, anything you do is going to make him moan and his toes curl. Also his cock is long so deepthroating is going to take effort.

Edmond

You have to ambush him while he's out on patrol. Pull him into a side alley, whisper something dirty in his ear, and get on your knees. His uniform is so tight that he'll have to let you take care of his boner before he can go back on patrol or else everyone will see what a pervert the captain is. He has to bite his knuckle just to stop himself from moaning and drawing unwanted attention. He will scold you after but that blush on his cheeks says he loved it.

Olivine

Suck the soul out of him, nibble on his tip, squeeze his balls a little. Soon you'll have his eyes rolling back in his head in bliss. It feels a little scandalous with you kneeling before him, almost like worship. It's nearly blasphemous, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't a huge turn on.

Quincy

He likes getting to sit back and relax while you suck him off. If you catch him while he's still half asleep then he feels so much more sensitive. That's when you can get some truly delicious sounds from him. He likes when you indulge his lazy side and take control for a little bit.

Kuya

It's one of his favorite pastimes. Seriously he loves when you're on your knees for him, being all submissive and cute. He likes tangling his fingers in your hair and controlling the pace. He'll push your limits to see just how deep you can take him. All the while he's telling you (In a sultry voice) how dirty or submissive you look, and how well you take directions to please him.

Blade

You will have him short circuiting if you kiss the tip while you're going down on him. You're so cute and it makes him feel loved. Honestly he cares less about the physical stimulation than the emotional stimulation. Look up at him and tell him how good he tastes or how much you want him ect. And he'll be in heaven. He gets off so much when he thinks you're enjoying yourself too.

Garu

He gets very vocal. Like EXTREMELY vocal. Less words but a lot of little sounds. He is going to death grip whatever is nearby when he gets close to cumming. He doesn't want you to stop so he tries to hold back for as long as possible. He will be so overwhelmed with pleasure and happiness if you drink his cum. He will be so overcome with emotions that he will kiss you immediately after.

Karu

You are going to give him a power trip he is not ready for. Actually a major turn on and he will cum really quickly because of it. He likes to run his fingers through your hair as you go down on him. Actually he enjoys it better if it's mostly a hand job with lots of kissing. He wants to hear you tell him how good he tastes, how much you like it, ect. He wants you to be vocal and it's hard to do that with a dick in your mouth.

Dante

He has to try so hard to keep a neutral face, but internally he is about to explode. He's a very private person, especially when it comes to his intimate life, but his favorite place to do this is his throne. Him sitting high and mighty on his throne with you on your knees nestled between his legs. It's the ultimate power trip. Someone could also walk in at any moment because his throne room isn't exactly a private place, but that only gets his blood pumping faster.

Rei

Blowjob under the desk while he's working on his research. He won't say it out loud but he enjoys the challenge of studying and trying not to cum at the same time. Can you cockwarm with your mouth? Well you're both about to find out.

Eiden

He's all giddy and cute when you ask to suck him off. Boy literally has stars in his eyes. He'll set up pillows and stuff so you are both as comfortable as possible. Short bursts at first, giving you plenty of room to breathe. He can get rougher if you ask nicely. One of his favorite positions is having you on your back on the bed and fucking your mouth with your head hanging off the edge. Going in so much deeper than you can on your own. This is why he lets you breathe early on, so he can see just how much you can handle before you choke, so he knows when to ease up.

Aster

This is exactly the authority trip he loves. He's not that big so being able to actually look down at you, huge turn on. You wanting and eager for him also makes him really happy but he won't say that out loud. He will tell you exactly how you are making him feel physically though and will praise you more than usual if you do something he likes.

Morvay

Did somebody say 69! No? Well now you have a pouty incubus. He will still let you suck him off but he prefers when he can do it to you as well. If you make it more of a kinky thing then he'll be happy again. Like if you tie his wrists to a chair so he can't touch you. It drives him mad, but really turns him on when you take control. (He will probably use his tail or something to grind your crotch if you bind his arms)

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Ok, but imagine a teenager! reader who dresses in Gothic Lolita! The over-the-top headwear, big skirts, tights, corsets, (sometimes) umbrellas, etc. etc. They are decked out in full Lolita outside of school, but they still incorporate some of the gothic feel in their clothes during school hours.

Reader isn’t really teased about their choice of clothing, especially since last time a group (with no style) was talking smack about Reader’s style in front of their face, basically calling them names and just being huge assholes. Reader, despite being shorter than the average teenager, threw hands when they started to touch them, and now that same group keeps their mouth shut since they basically got their ass handed to them by some short gothic hottie.

(Btw, sleep well and eat and drink loads of food and water!)

Gothic Lolita

Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Characters x GN! Teen! Gothic Lolita! Reader

Description: You have an interesting taste in clothes.

A/N: Reader's style is a mix between Gothic Lolita clothes and Ouji (not considered part of Lolita style, but, it is the masculine counterpart of it. Style is considered gender neutral). Reader wear both masculine and feminine clothes.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Short.

🐾 When you saw Gothic Lolita style for the first time, you immediately fall in love with it.

🐾 It looked so cool, elegant and unique.

🐾 Without second thought, you decided to start dressing up in Gothic Lolita style.

🐾 Well, sometimes.

🐾 Wearing headwear, corsets, tights and all other clothes of that style 27/7 was hard. It was stylish, but, you wouldn't call it the comfiest everyday clothes. Moreover, you don't want to get into trouble with teachers. This Style is over the top for school.

🐾 So, the experiments time came.

🐾 First and foremost, in school you decide to wear, mostly, casual clothes. You choose black clothes with occasional royal blue and rocking horse shoes. You also wear a simple accessory, a little silver bat brooch.

🐾 At home you wear, what most will describe, Gothic Ouji. Elegant and comfortable enough for a casual hole clothes.

🐾 But, every time you need to go somewhere, besides the school, you finally can have fun and wear full Gothic Lolita outfit.

🐾 Black headpiece, poofy skirt, petticoat, tights, black umbrella... But no corset. It was impossible to tie this thing correctly, so you could breathe. But, your light makeup was always on spot.

🐾 You were confident in your style. Still, when BSD Cast arrived in your world, you feel a little bit nervous. You don't want to make a bad first experience with your clothes.

______

You, dressed in your Gothic Lolita outfit, finally enter the living room. BSD Cast (manly Fitzgerald) offer you to go on a small shopping trip.

All gazes were on you, when you enter the living room. For one moment everything was quiet. Then a choir of 'You look great!' and 'I knew, you had style' fill the room.

You were nervous for no reason.

_____

💰💉 The shopping trip leads to Fitzgerald and Mori buying you all clothes from every 'Gothic Lolita' brands you love.

💉 Mori do a little research, to help you find more Gothic Lolita clothes, that are suitable for school. Mori also likes to see you in new outfits.

🍰 If you became tried of Mori's advices, ask Elise for help. She knew, how to make Mori stop dotting on you.

📒 Kunikida do keep an eye on what you wear to school. Not because he doesn't trust you. Because he doesn't want you to get in trouble like last time.

_______

You were standing between Kunikida and Jounou, glaring at two of your classmates. They were beaten up and were shaking, looking at you. They were hiding behind their parents.

Fitzgerald, who was leaning towards the headmistress, hissed.

"So, let me get this straight. This two were harassing [Y/N] for no reason. When my kid reported them to a teacher, the only reaction was, 'Learn to get along.' But, when this two almost assaulted [Y/N], and my kid had to defend themselves, you are ready to explain them?"

The situation was a little bit funny. Because you were shorter than Chuuya by a few centimeters. And two jerks were much taller than you.

They messed with the wrong person. You know, how to throw hands. And have protective family.

_____

🐾 You don't have any trouble with other students after that.

🐾 Manly, because of your fighting skills.

🐾 You dressed as you feel comfortable, live with people, who accept your style and didn't pay any attention to people, who has problems with your style.