#what the fuck happened?!??!!? because they come back covered in wounds and with armor he has literally never seen before

[fnvbennygecko]

head in hands i need to rewrite the clover breakdown fic even though im not goddamn done with it. benny wouldnt act like that............... but i also need to do like a whole diagram to figure out what the fuck he would do. i frankly gotta talk it out i wont lie.

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any music, just this concept idea.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences.

??? Pov

Running. It's all I have on my mind right now. Get away. Get far away from that thing. I can still hear the few people left standing fighting. Shots being fired, screams of pain and a brawl happening. Damn it. This was supposed to be a secure place. The boss said so himself.

I hear as the fighting ends in the distance behind me, but I keep running anyway. Not chancing it. Not with this person. I need to report to Simon and le-

*BANG*

"AAAGH!!!"

An immense and sudden pain shoots through my leg, causing me to fall over onto the ground.

"FUCK! fuck! shit! fuck!" I yell out swears to the skies as I grab my leg onto my leg. I don't have time cope with the fact that I just got shot in the fucking leg, because I know they're coming. I see their silhouette through the smog. One arm raised in my direction and the barrel of a handgun I can't make out facing towards me, and a shovel being held in the other dripping with what is most likely blood. I push through the pain and force myself up to limp myself to an alleyway as they shoot in my direction and use the wall as a support. They're messing with me.

'Why me!? We aren't even in their territory! We made sure of it!,' I continue on and take many turns to try to loose them and holding onto my leg wound to lessen the blood dripping, 'I just need to get to the light. They never come out of this hole.'

I start becoming more aware of the pain as I continue moving, but ignore it to keep my pace steady. Some hope rises as I look back to see nothing, but just as I turn back around I am met with a boot to my chest. I feel the wind get knocked out of me as I hit the ground, my vision dazed from the back of my head being hit as well.

I look up already knowing who it is standing in front of me, but I never thought I'd be one of their victims. Boots, ragged pants, shovel hanging from their hip on one side with a holster on the other side, some dirty jacket with some kind of body armor underneath and an enforcer gas mask with a one of the old miner helmets. Always covering their face. Always a bad omen for any gang that's hunkering down here.

"Please! I do- AAGH!" I yell in pain as they stomp on my wound. I then feel myself be yanked up by my collar before getting slammed into the wall.

"Talk."

"Listen I don't know anything you want! I was only put in charge of that warehouse!"

"Bullshit, that's what the last guy said before he confessed about you. He said you report to your boss and I want to know where he is."

'Of course she does. Another gang leader being tracked down by this crazy bit-.' my thoughts are interrupted by being pistol whipped across my nose.

"Fuck! Please, I really don't know! I only report to a guy named Simon, but he's not the boss! You saw the place I was in; it was hardly secure at all!", I plead to them, hoping for some mercy. They stare at me for a second before letting out a breath of frustration.

I am yanked forward and thrown onto the ground. I flip over and find myself looking up at them as they stand over me; my eyes staring down the barrel.

"NO! PLEASE, I TOLD YOU ALL I KNOW!"

"You want to beg? After all the lives you've taken and ruined ever since you moved into this area? Be happy I don't make it slower."

"WA-"

Then there was nothings.

Reader Pov

'Another fucking dead end.' I think to myself in frustration as I holster my revolver.

I take a minute to finally catch a breather before checking for anything useful on this guy and the others at the warehouse. Once I'm done I decide to go track down this Simon guy next. It's been nothing but this constant cycle for the past eight years.

"At least everything is going good up above. From what I hear at least." I say to myself, trying to look on the bright side of things. Ironic considering how I'm in what is now the shittiest part of the Undercity. It's been awhile since I've left this area, and since I've seen them.

Last time I left, it was to go witness that historic speech on the bridge. They did it. Vander and Silco finally accomplished their dream, and now Zaun has become a better place. So much light and the whole mood of the town is different too. Much more happy. Just like what I dreamt about, but I don't go over there. I can't.

There's enforcers that will most likely think I'm up to something, it's too bright to hide, not crowded enough to blend in anywhere and honestly I just don't really fit in with this new Zaun anymore. Not their fault, it's me that's the problem. Everyone dresses so nice, clean and casual along with how nice the community has become. Then there's me. I look like I crawled out of a dumpster or came back from an apocalypse..... honestly the latter isn't too inaccurate considering what almost happened originally. Probably also the reason why people usually leave me alone and gives me looks sometimes. I look weird compared to everyone else.

Though even with everything I still do my part. Just because most of Zaun has become better doesn't mean there isn't any who didn't like the idea of Piltover and Zaun making peace. Mostly gangs. Since enforcers were able to do their jobs easier the gangs have been pushed down here with me. I've been taking out as many as I could, and nipping the bud of one's that start growing. Especially the one's I knew were aiming for Vander and SIlco. No mercy. Like that one group who tried to recruit me to, I quote "Rebel and takeover Piltover for the true Zuauites." what a bunch of weirdos. Though this most recent one I've been working on is giving me trouble.

They were the only smart one's to stay under the radar when I first started the purge of gangs down here and only recently have been making bigger moves. They aren't too big yet, but if I don't dismantle them they could cause trouble. Turns out that would be harder than I expected. Every time I get pointed to one person, that person points me to someone else and the cycle continues. I'm no detective either, so I'm getting nowhere with the way things are going.

'It's fine. Something will come up eventually,' I try to reassure myself on my way home. It helps a little. Still tired. Kinda hungry too, 'I need to find a way to money.'

Making money the old way wasn't as easy anymore. Not many people that need "jobs" done, and not a lot of people who need to hire a merc for anything anymore. Most of the mercenaries either used their money to leave or joined up with the enforcers for some good and reliable pay with benefits. Can't blame them. Either my line of business is almost dead, or I'm one of the last one's still keeping it alive. Zaun doesn't need mercs like me anymore. That's good.

*stomach grumbles*

*sigh* "I really gotta make more money. Maybe I can pick up some small jobs here and there. Deliver mail to people or something." I reach into my jacket and pull out my journal. I don't write anything in it, but I do draw.

I turn to my most recent sketch and touch up on some details, another one of Jinx. I can't help, but remember. Sometimes I dream of all that happened. I try to put it behind me, but it's hard. They're scarred into my mind, but they remind me why I do this.

"Always stubborn about your hair. Even when I warned you how it can cause trouble in a fight, you insisted." I say to myself as I draw her braided hair. Took forever to braid them, but she loved. Honestly she made them look good.

I smile. Taking a moment to forget about the world and get lost in something else.

'Hopefully this, Simon, has better info.'

3rd Person

Meanwhile above ground across the bridge. A certain investigation in being looked into. With an ongoing interrogation happening.

"Do you really think we're that stupid?" Vi asks the woman sitting across the room from her and her partner. Both in crime and..... other things.

"Yeah."

Vi shoots forward and ready to lunge, but is quickly stopped by Caitlyn who leans into her ear.

"Calm down, Vi. She wants you to get upset." she says while holding onto one of Vi's shoulders to comfort her. Though she does understand her frustration.

Ever since they've been looking into a recently bold gang, they've hardly gotten anywhere. She takes a moment to make sure Vi has calmed down before turning back to the woman in questioning.

"I understand that you have no reason to help us, bu-."

"No shit. I get thrown behind bars and then pulled out for questioning about a gang, I'm not even a part of."

"But. We really need something here. If you cooperate we could negotiate with reducing your sentencing. Your records show you have been improving and haven't caused trouble, but we can only do that if you work with us." Caitlyn explains, trying to negotiate some kind of deal for some information.

The woman slightly relaxes before shaking her head with a sigh.

"Listen girl, I told you before. I really don't know anything about this gang. All I know is what I told you. They used to be small and kept to themselves and they've grown."

Caitlyn scowls, not at the woman, but down at the table in front of her. Another dead end.

"But.... you could try asking the hound." the woman suggests, which catches Caitlyn's attention, but Vi scoffs.

"We already asked my dad. He's not really involved with that stuff anymore, and his contacts have been out of that kind of business for awhile."

"Not Vander. The new one down in the deep end of the Undercity." this catches Vi's interest now.

"A new hound? Let me guess, another wannabe big shot?"

"No. This one's the real deal. Has been making a name for themselves for a few years now. Ever since most of the gangs got pushed back down deep into the Undercity; ever wondered what happened to all those old gangs eight years ago? Bloodhound took them out one by one." the woman explains, her tone lined with admiration and respect. Caitlyn raises a brow at the name.

"Bloodhound?"

"That's what people call them. No one I've met knows their name or has seen their face."

With things moving in a good direction, Vi sits down next to Caitlyn at the table.

"I assumed all the gangs just died out after peace was made. So what? They some gang leader or something?"

"No, but they do have a small territory. All to themselves. They got a lot of respect down there. You remember that weird group two years ago? Dressed all rugged and called themselves "True Zaunites"? They idolized Bloodhound; tried to dress like them too. Then one day they went into their territory and tried make them their leader, but ended up coming back beaten black and blue. The guy who was leading the group got a bullet through his skull."

Caitlyn looks skeptical and glances at Vi, who also looks to have some doubt about this "Bloodhound". The inmate notices and shrugs her shoulders.

"I know, sounds weird but it's true. The point is, they hunt down gangs. You want someone with info, then try them."

"How do we contact them?"

"I don't know. Last people who tried was that weird group. Now a lot of 'em are too scared to go back down there."

This brings some, not a lot, but some hope to Vi and Caitlyn to this investigation. Better than nothing. Caitlyn stands up before holding out a hand towards the inmate.

"Thank you for your time and the information. I'll be sure to put in a good word for your cooperation, maybe even get you on probation."

"No problem. Not like I had a choice in coming here. You better not be bullshitting me about that deal." the inmate says as she takes Caitlyn's hand.

Caitlyn nods before turning around to leave, Vi already holding the door open for her. Caitlyn wordlessly signals the two enforcers standing outside to escort the inmate back to her cell before walking with Vi.

"So this "Bloodhound", you think they're legit?"

"I don't know. But we don't have any other leads on this case. My mother trusted us with this case Vi, we can't just give up." Caitlyn says with hints of frustration in her voice.

"Hey, I'm not saying we give up, Cupcake. I was just wanting to hear your thoughts."

"I-I know. I'm sorry. It's just, I don't wan-."

"AH. You don't need to apologize Cupcake. I get it. Don't wanna disappoint parents, trust me, I understand," Vi says reassuringly which makes Cait stop, "What?"

"I love you." she says with a smile before giving Vi a peck on the cheek, making said Pink haired girl blush like a tomato.

"I-I love you too, Cupcake. .....Ahem a-anyway, I don't know if going to find this guy will work. I was thinking maybe we could go see my dad instead. He might know someone who can get in touch with this guy. Plus, I think he'd like to know that there's another "Hound" in the Undercity." Vi says as she wraps an arm around Caitlyn's shoulders to hold her close.

"That sounds nice."

Powder Pov

"So you want me to see if I can get someone to talk to this guy that you two need to talk to."

"I know. It sounds sketchy, bu-." Vi was saying until Benzo cuts in.

"Are ye kidding!? Vander! We gotta see this kid. Running around using your title; they must be a fan! How have I not heard of this guy before!?" Benzo says, poking fun at dad since apparently he has some copycat or something.

"I second that!" Mylo says, making Claggor shake his head with a chuckle.

Dad rolls his eyes, but still has a smile on his face.

"Technically not the same. They're called "Bloodhound"." Cait says, but slight smirk still on her face with Vi wearing one to match.

'Might as well join in on the fun.'

"I don't know if that's a good idea. They might want his autograph." I say with my own cheeky smirk. Leaning into Ekko, as he writes in his book of projects, sitting at the bar with everyone.

"Alright, alright. I get it. I might have some people who still owe me a favor or two," Dad says, as he wipes down a glass behind the bar, "One condition. They gotta meet you two here."

"YES!" Benzo yells in elation, but Vi doesn't look that happy.

"Here!? Dad seriously this person could cause trouble and this place isn't like that anymore." Vi says, but Dad doesn't look like he's budging.

"I'm being serious too. I've heard stuff hear and there about them and I don't want you two going down there alone. I know you two can handle yourselves, but if anything I've heard is somewhat true then this isn't like any other thug or gang leader." Dad says, which makes Vi back down.

'Damn. Now I'm interested.'

"Are you sure they would even come here?" Caitlyn asks a pretty reasonable question.

"Pretty sure. From what I hear they've been getting into shootouts with the gang recently. Probably hunting them down too."

"That isn't a guarantee though. What if they don't show up?"

"If they don't then show up, then they don't show up. They wouldn't have been help even if you went down looking for them, you'd probably just gonna end up in a fight."

'Fair point, honestly.'

Cait looks to Vi, who sighs as a sign of surrendering.

"Fine. How soon can you get someone to talk to them?"

"Today."

Cait looks surprised which makes Dad shrug.

"I got good contacts."

"Good. I guess tomorrow in the afternoon? Does that sound fine?" Vi asks, looking at Cait for confirmation which she gets via a nod.

As the conversation shifts to something else, I look at Ekko as he continues to scribble in his notebook.

"What do you think?" I ask him which makes him stop writing for a second.

"About "Bloodhound"," he asks and I give a simple nod, "Sounds a little fishy. Sounds like one of those people still stuck in the old times of crime everywhere."

"It doesn't sound like they are. They did supposedly take out that one weird group of "True Zaunites"; honestly those people were so stupid." I say with a small laugh, Ekko chuckling a little at the mention of that bizarre group of people.

'The speeches those guys made in the streets were insane.'

"Still, doesn't sound like good company. Why would they want to stay in the deep part of the Undercity? Zaun has become so much better over the years."

"Maybe..... they're afraid to move forward. Don't wanna lose what they have now." I say, honestly projecting more about myself than what I actually think.

'They could just be a psycho.'

I feel Ekko's arm come up to my waist before pulling me in closer as he sets down his pencil.

"Powder. I know it's not easy, but I really do think you could do a lot of amazing things. I know you're afraid of things changing, but..... sometimes taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind."

"I-I just.... I don't know. I just need some time to think about it." I say, avoiding the topic of what I want to do in life, looking away just staring at the details of the bar counter.

"Okay..... just know I'm here for you Powder. Nothing will change that." Ekko says, supporting and sweet as always, which makes me smile.

"Thanks." I say before giving a small kiss on the cheek.

"No thanks needed."

We sit at the bar in a comfortable silence as my mind wanders.

'Tomorrow should be an interesting day.'

The Next Day.

Deep in the Undercity the infamous Bloodhound stands in the middle of the street, farther than usual from their territory. What is usually a busy street is now completely empty with only Y/n standing there by herself, and facing towards the brighter side of Zaun.

People peak out from their homes through blinds. People who looked like they were about to step outside immediately turn around to lock themselves inside. Others who were making there way down the street immediately turns right around to take a detour around.

All of them had the same questions on their minds.

Why are they here? What are they up to? Is a fight about to happen? Is someone about to die? Are the meeting up with someone here?

.....Also why are they just standing in the middle of the street?

Reader Pov

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit! This is, SO! FUCKING! BAD!', I internally panic as I stand in the middle of the street.

Yesterday right after getting some intel from that Simon guy I got a message from some guy. Literally right after. I just tackled that fucker out of the second floor of his shitty bar when he tried stabbing me after getting information out of him. Then I turned and there they were. Staring in shock. Anyway that doesn't matter.

What really matters is the fact that Vander wanted me to come to The Last Drop. I couldn't even ask why because before I could they ran away.

'Why!? What did I do!? Am I in trouble!? I didn't even do anything!'

I'm not supposed to meet them, but how am I supposed to ignore a call from Vander. From Dad. So I forced myself out of bed and I only made it this far before getting too scared. I feel rooted to the ground. I'm scared. I'm scared to see them after so long, even if it's just to talk or something.

"What if I mess this all up?," I ask myself. Trying to decide whether or not it's worth risking all of the good things that have happened to Zaun over the years, "What if I cause a butterfly effect and ruin everything?"

But then there's that other part of me. Desperate and longing to see how my family has been after so long of isolating myself down here alone.

I stand still in contemplation for another minute before finally taking a step forward.

"One time couldn't hurt. Just this once."

Hope you enjoyed. Sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

[whoredyceps]

"OH LOVER BOY!" || 28 Days of Love: A Valentine's Challenge + Series

day eighteen: a forgotten date

ᰔ pairing: din djarin x reader

ᰔ summary: the bounty hunter is good on his word— on his own terms. you try to stop holding out hope, but that's easier said than done.

ᰔ author's note: din babe please don't go be a space cowboy i need you too bad 😮‍💨 anyways this took a bit longer to write because SOMEONE (read: pedro) is out here doing his job and keeping us well fed. oof. big weekend for us.

ᰔ content warning: 18+ /// MDNI!!!! slight slight smut mention, alcohol consumption, drunk!reader, hurt/little comfort. no beta— we die like men

The cantina was alive and well, patrons from all walks of life gathered to enjoy the festivities of the night. A jaunty little tune filled the air as a band played in the corner.

You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of the door 'woosh'-ing open. Your shoulders sunk when you realized it was another unassuming patron. Before you focused on them for too long, you turned back to your drink.

'This is so stupid,' you thought to yourself. 'He's not going to come. What is Chaos was I thinking?'

As each patron entered, you felt your hope sink deeper and deeper into your stomach. It wasn't much help that you had ordered a second drink, then a third.

You waited for hours. Hours before you finally pulled yourself away from the table. As your feet landed on the floor, the scene before you swayed, your head light and void of your usual clear judgement.

"You alright there?" An Octolan asked as you took tentative steps towards the door. All you mustered was a nod before you managed to find the exit.

No one seemed phased by your miscalculated steps, a frequent sight to be seen around the cantina. You ignored each glance and kept your head somewhat low— All you needed was the ability to not run into debris in front of you.

Easier said than done. You closed your eyes for only a moment, the loud noise of a bang nearby disoriented you. One slight sway and you went tumbling over a cargo box.

You laid in the mud, a soft groan from your lips. Heartbroken, drunk, and covered in mud. Just how you wanted today to go. From the moment your eyes opened, you held this childlike hope in your heart that he would come. You knew better than to hold it so close, but there it sat, a kindled fire in your chest.

In the back of your mind, what logic you had held on to prattled on and on about what would happen. The Mandalorian was a bounty hunter, and a very busy one at that. Just because he promised to come back didn't mean he meant it. There was no price, no credits you offered that guaranteed that he would come back.

"Need some help?"

You hadn't realized you had closed your eyes until you felt a looming presence over you. With a deep sigh, you shook your head. Truth be told, you had no desire to move. With the ache in your chest, it felt fitting to lie in the mud, drunk and with a wounded heart.

"You've got mud in your hair. We both know how you feel about that."

That voice.

Your eyes popped open, only to be met with the Mandalorian stood over you. A rush of emotions, relief and anger swelled in you as your vision focused on him. He was here, as you had hoped. Yet he had to arrive while you were six drinks deep and covered in slop.

"You came. I, what are you..."

Fuck. You even sounded drunk. Before you were able to get another word out, strong hands grabbed your sides and lifted you off the ground. You held onto his arms, his armored plates cool to the touch.

"I told you I'd come back. I always keep my promises to you," Din said. He kept a hand on your side as you stood up, the other swiped some of the mud off of your clothes.

"Couldn't have come before I decided to wallow?" You muttered under your breath. The anger that had boiled inside of you was left at the wayside, down to a simmer that settled under your skin.

The Mandalorian was right. He did keep his promises to you, even if they weren't in the ways you wanted. The hardest pill to swallow was the fact that he did his best, but you wanted more. It was selfish, but you wanted all of him. It took everything in you to not hit his chest and beg him to stay. Beg him to choose you and settle into a quiet life.

That wasn't him. If it was, he would have chosen you the first time. Maybe even the second, but he chose to leave. He chose to take those bounties and promise to return. What good was a promise?

"Let's get you home." You didn't protest as he led you back to your abode. His stayed at your side, an anchor as you pushed through your drunken haze.

Once inside, you abandoned the bounty hunter to use the restroom. You left without a word; he had been in your home enough to settle without you. As you cleaned yourself up, you looked in the mirror. Of course there were tears in your eyes. Just what you needed right now.

After a while, there was a slight knock at the door. You changed the last of your clothes before you opened it slightly.

"What, Mando?" You held onto the door, slight hope that you were still able to hold yourself up right. It was sobering, the Mandalorian's presence in front of you.

"You were taking a while. Got worried you were hurt."

You rolled your eyes, a bitter laugh bubbled out of you.

"Like you're the one who should be talking about taking a while," you huffed. "I'm fine."

There was a beat of silence between the two of you. The bounty hunter finally spoke up.

"It was the Crest. I was tailed by—"

You stopped him, a hand held up.

"It's always something. You're getting tailed, or the Child is sleeping— you always give me an excuse, Mando," you argued. "I don't want an excuse. I want a reason. A real reason."

The bounty hunter gave a slight nod of the helmet. You were right, he owed you that much. Din took in a deep breath before he spoke.

"I put off coming in hopes that I wouldn't see you again."

If you hadn't known better, you would have left it at that. Your heart would be shattered and you'd be chasing him out, calling him every bad name in the book.

Instead, you waited. Your expression urged him to continue before you said something he didn't want to hear.

"Every time I see you, it gets harder to leave. I, I get this idea in my head that I don't have to walk out of the door," he explained. "I can take off this cursed beskar, and not look back. When I'm with you, it's hard to look forward and keep towards my goal."

You took a step closer to him, a hand on his bicep once you were close enough.

"I want you to stay, Mando. Take off the beskar, please. Stay," you practically begged. "I can take care of you. I have enough credits for us to be okay. It's not a lavish life, but I can take care of you."

"It's not the credits, or being taken care of," he sighed. "What it is— it's beyond the simplicity of what we could have."

You thought you had felt enough heartbreak for the night, but there wasn't a limit when it came to the bounty hunter. That logical part of you knew you had been right. Whether the Mandalorian wanted to stay here or not was never the issue.

What you loved about him was also his catalyst. The bounty hunter lived and died by his honor, what he had promised his people so long ago. As badly as you wanted him to change, wanted him to find a new path, it wasn't going to happen. His dedication was fierce, even as it clawed at him and dragged him into the depths of Chaos.

"Will you at least stay the night? Please," you asked. "Just tonight."

There was no point, dragging it all out. It was a fight you had before, and you were sure it was a fight you'd have again. Maybe it was the alcohol, but something in you had subdued for the time being. The fact that the bounty hunter had even shown up at all was enough right now.

The Mandalorian tipped his helmet. You took his hand and led him to your bedroom. As promised a long time ago, you covered your eyes with a silk slip you kept just for his visits and turned all the lights off.

Without another word, you found yourself lost in his touch. You didn't know his name or his face, but you had come to recognize his voice, the way he said your name. His hands were familiar on your body, his cock buried deep inside you as if it had always belonged there. Everything about him had become a sort of home to you, this comfort you chased time and time again.

When you woke the next morning, the bed was empty. You didn't bother to call for the bounty hunter, or grab for the note he left by the bed. You already knew what it said. Another day, another time, a promise that he'll show up on time.

Maybe one day you'd stop believing the lie.

[cinnamontoastcroonch]

an angst bomb i dropped in the big bang server this morning

come get y’all’s food

imagine garroth actually tried to get laurance back. during those three years. at some point he couldn’t take it so he left without a word and idiotically found some way in, and created some sort of disguise. (this defeats one of my headcannons about sk ‘armor’ but idc) maybe he takes down a weaker shadow knight, steals literally anything off of him that would help him blend in. covers the rest of his regular armor or whatever in the red nether earth, and sets off for laurance.

there’s a key problem. he doesn’t actually look like one of them up close, which is fine, but at first glance it’s believable. so when he finds laurance, and he approaches, something happens.

laurance just. loses it. he knows it’s garroth, there’s no mistaking his face. but for a moment, in his already stressed mind, the disguise fools him. he’s absolutely horrified, thinking that they tried to turn garroth. maybe they succeeded, and he was not there to save him. it’s the most emotion he’s seen from the man since he was freed from the irene dimension, and over all, it’s the most fear. he can’t even get an introduction in, he’s in front of garroth in an instant. mumbling and cursing like a madman as he looks for any wounds.

“who the fuck did this”

“i’m so sorry i wasn’t there”

“i’m gonna kill all of them”

and then he realizes, because none of garroth’s scars are new. there the same ones he’s known. maybe he’s relieved. maybe he’s angry, because the idea of garroth having his same fate had scared him shitless. either way, the panic is resolved, only for more to ensue. the nether is very hectic. they share some words, garroth pleads for him to return. there’s a beat-he almost considers it. but looking at garroth in his disguise reminds him of what could become of all of this—if he were to put himself around them again. he can’t bear it, so he refuses. his heart aches, and so does garroth’s, but there’s no time to wallow.

^a bit made by rose

[greatkittydream]

Rwby Monster school au. A long ass time ago

Two opposing figures across from each other one of them freshly born Days ago, the other is an ancient entity.

Clad in a roman style of armor with a cape fluttering about on his back as he sat upon a throne made of golden marble. Standing ten feet tall With a shield covering over half of his body to his right and a spear with a four pointed head to his left. On his face rested a picture of unimpressed anger.

Aries: Who's the Fuck do you think you are Keep walking up to me THE God of war. claring yourself better

Speaking down to a figure standing only at six feet of height diminutive compared to the deity in front of him. A being composed entirely of fire-and-brimstone a suit of armor so bulky and sick. It would not be hard to imagine it. Several inches thick with horns protruding out the tall of its head and eyes like that of molten magma. It carried with it, not weapons but oppressive presence. That had every other war god near its understanding it's time to claim of war over.

horseman of war: Declaring myself? no no no, you don't seem to understand I'm not declaring myself better because i'm not a god or a petty thing like you! I am war I am the Mindless slaughter, I am the Strategic genius, I am the mercy, and I am the brutality. I am the mindless killer and I am the hopeful soldier. So while you claim to hold sway over the brutality of war and it's FEAR. You're not but an overseer of a pathetic scrap of my entirety. I was made by the brothers to help bring about the end. Should they decide it, and I will be here long after your dead forgotten? Because as long as there's war, I will never die.

In a Moment Aries was on top of his now perceived opponent. Aries had thousands of years of experience under his belt in an instant. His spear was in front of him. About to stab this up starts through the face. Before he could even fully fully comprehend. What happened his spear was snapped. his face was gripped by an unnatural strength coming from a Gauntlet that had no man inside of it. Somehow, in a fraction of a second war, it had slipped past the spear. And launch itself Up and grab onto ares's face as they were falling onto aries back. Aries teleported them out of olympus into The lands that would In the far future become atlas.

(Smokinotter Unlike modern day atlas This landscape was actually a series of giant mountains I have been grinded down Through decades of Is erosion In fights between powerful entities. It was the perfect place to do it very little collateral damage could be done.)

Miles above the air and quickly falling towards the ground. Aries had managed to grab onto the helm of this empty suit of armor and twisted to where it would fall. Face first towards the mountainous terrain below. Grabbing onto his opponent's leg and pulling it down. War had managed to become fixed to face with Aries, gripping his hair. through a launch of fire Out of the elbow Suit of armor, they were launched down to the surface of the earth, tens of thousands of miles per second. Aries face made contact with a mountainside being dragged through it, his face getting caught up, and torn bits of cheek flesh were torn off .you could see the inside of his mouth through a gaping hole. And eye had come loose, and his skull was bare to see. To many other entities, this would have been a death sentence .to the God. It was nothing more than an inconvenience. The wounds were healing in mere seconds as they were forming. Planting both feet on his opponent's chest and kicking away war was knocking into a mountain. With such force, he Ricochede off the wall of the mountains as if a ping pong ball. Yet Despite that You've been None the wiser The suit of armor simply got out of the Debree Pushing boulders off that weighed thousands of pounds As if each one was as light as a feather When war got up aries was all ready ther grabbing him by one the horns Teleporting them to what Would be the grim lands. Learning from his mistake, he teleported mere feet above the slamming wars face into the dirt of a luscious forest full of life. An Earthquake and a spider web cracked formd miles upon Is long upon from the impact. War has been embedded into the crust. Its entire lower half is the only thing visible. with in a moment as if a strike of lightning Aries faced was backfisted away as warhead slammed his fist through the earth into his face, launching him away. War pulled himself out of the dirt. Feeling something immensely wrong going to the top of its helm. A horn was missing. WAR IS PISSED. Within a flash of fire, a mass of shield, four inches thick coated with blood and a sword that looked to be made of hell fire and melting metal. Formed

He had underestimated his opponent. It's clear that it can't beat him on a one on one. And that aries was learning to fight him quicker than expected. This isn't what this is a duel So he's about to make it war as he was about to strike his shield and summoned uninholy amount of brimstone soldiers. A skeletal hand Planted upon its shoulder stopped it.

Everything had just died. When death's foot touch the ground The entire continent had died the unregulated power of death without a vessel to act as a Conduit was unleashed it happened in an instant birds trees Grass everything had just died the land became barren and unusable Countless eons now even into the modern day this land could not be used.

HOD: I know it may be a bit rude rather, but may I ask why you're fighting with him?

If I am not mistaken, He is to be your overseer. To make sure you don't go overboard with your... Purpose.

HOW: And why the FUCK should I let a lesser fighter? Dictate my actions as overboard or not. Am I not war itself was this not my Purpose why should I be watched after like some idle child.

HOD: It was very clear when Is our creators made us that we would have several overseers to make sure we did not abuse our power. We were put here for a very strict purposes. I have no problem with Thanatos or hel or any other of them Why do you have a problem with yours.

HOW: Fuck you Brother let's just go find our host already.

(Smokinotter The 4 horsemen have many overseers being gods. It said that all the gods of the respective fields, like death or past lawrence and famine, if we're together, could stop their designated horsemen. This is a safety measure. That brother god's created and where to make sure now their creations went hay wire Though with the unexpected growth of mortal life this may not be the case now)

_______________________________

God, this feels so cringey. I want to die

So, anyway, the young thing should come out sometime tomorrow. I was trying, I think of a good plot point that won't be horny. If you have any suggestions, feel free to leave a comment @ me I'll be sure to respond as soon as possibl

@howlingday What do you think also? Is there anything that you would write or improve upon? I wanna see if i'm getting better at this.

Also I imagine war looks like a chaos champion for warhammer Fantasy specifically a follower of khorn

[the-wayside]

I'm kind of loving this short-form medium, it really hits a spot.

the memories of you, excerpt 4.

Many things have happened, but this is not the end by a long shot. Warning for people getting hurt but NO CHARACTER DEATH. No one is dying.

Previous part

He expects pain.

He expects the burning hot and then cold of his blood, to fall ungraciously onto his back but he doesn’t. He’s slammed into and the gut-churning bang is just that, a sound, as he tumbles to the parking garage floor. What’s different is when he lands, he’s holding a person in his arms. He opens his eyes, the back of his head pounding with how it slammed into the floor, but he blinks away the bright white of a concussion and looks down at the doll string cut form of Kinn on his chest.

“Ki—” Porsche immediately cradles Kinn’s head and rolls, ensuring his body is on top of Kinn’s as more gunshots pop and his team circles around them to give them cover. He throws his empty gun and the pain in his skull feels like it’s pressing on his eyeballs but he shuffles down, hands groping over Kinn’s inert form, checking, looking for anything that looks fatal. It isn’t until he turns him by his shoulder that he feels the tacky heat of seeping blood on his fingers. Kinn has a bullet hole in the back of his shoulder.

“Pull in tighter! Fuck,” Porsche shoves his hand into his pocket for his cell. They’re out in the open, he needs help, he needs—

“Back up is coming,” Someone shouts to him and he throws his phone down and goes back to examining Kinn’s wound. He pulls him up and does his best to yank his suit jacket down, someone sees him struggling and tries to help, “Don’t you dare, cover him.”

His voice is distant, even to himself. Porsche eyes the stone pillar and he waves for people to help him, “Help me get him over there on three. 1, 2, 3.”

Three of his men help him carry Kinn while two more fire indiscriminate shots to keep their enemy back.

Porsche tries to get a better look, but the light is shit, so he figures he just needs to get Kinn’s jacket off and he can use it to apply pressure to the wound.

“Kinn?” He calls and no response. He’s breathing, Porsche can feel the rise and fall of his chest where he has now balanced him against his own. “Kinn, wake up, come on.”

What sounds like fireworks go off and the wall of people around him gets bigger and tighter, “Kinn, for fuck’s sake, get up.”

His pale skin becomes pallid and neutral with blood loss and Porsche does his best to lay him back down on his side and press into the wound.

“Evac ETA?!” He shouts at no one and everyone.

“3 minutes, sir,” Someone says between the pops.

Porsche brushes back Kinn’s hair and checks his pupils, they’re dilated and unfocused, “Come on, Little Dragon, get it together.”

He gets himself down, hand still pressing against Kinn’s shoulder and he leans his forehead against Kinn’s, “Please, okay? Please.”

No one says anything as he shakily presses his lips to Kinn’s before he leans back into him, “Be okay.”

He holds them like that until the evacuation team arrives and throws in smoke bombs and sends more people to get Kinn secure on a stretcher before they move him. Porsche is left stroking Kinn’s hair back, his normally expressive face slack as they lift and properly tourniquet his shoulder at the same time.

“Sir?” One of the remaining bodyguards calls. He’s torn because his main goal is to secure Kinn to safety and the Evac team has him, but his team is devastated. More bodies have fallen and the smoke bombs won’t last forever.

Pol decides for him, “Porsche needs to go with Khun Kinn.”

Porsche looks back at him, barely visible in the smoke, and nods to him. Pol nods back. He’s nursing some sort of arm wound himself.

“Everyone, fall back, get medical attention. This isn’t over, but we need to tend to ourselves.” Porsche tells them.

There are murmurs but not one of them reaches him as he walks behind Kinn’s stretcher. Kinn is loaded up into the armored van and Porsche is allowed to get in and sit by his head. He cups his face and strokes his cheek, almost as if he can rub the color back into it.

They hook him up to medical equipment, Porsche hears and knows enough to know his blood pressure is low, his body is losing blood, and they’re going to hook him up to a transfusion.

“You stupid fucking idiot,” Porsche tells him. Not one of the Evac team says anything. The medical personnel just work on Kinn as if Porsche isn’t even there. “Fourteen years and you still don’t get how this works. Fucking moron.”

His tears are hot and he doesn’t touch them, just lets them run down his face, “You absolutely dire straits of a human—"

Porsche tucks his face into Kinn’s neck and lets himself cry. Thick, heavy sobs because he can’t. He can’t see him like this. Can’t joke his way out of it. It isn’t a story, Kinn doesn’t magically wake up, he stays limp and lifeless and Porsche trembles as he lifts his head and traces Kinn’s lips with his fingers.

“I love you, okay? You win. So, stop trying to be a hero and live.”

This time, Porsche presses his lips tighter to Kinn’s, as if he could breathe his life into Kinn through his mouth, his fingers digging into his cheek and his lips end up wet from Porsche’s tears that collect between them on his top lip.

“Sir, ETA for the private medical wing is eight minutes,” The female paramedic tells him, but he doesn’t look at her. His eyes stay on Kinn and the hope he will open his stupid big brown eyes that do not change no matter how much time passes and they can fight about their situation one more time.

[halibellecter]

Signal

--

In a medical setting, the way you flag down assistance is not by screaming "HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPP!!!!!" at the top of your lungs. It's, instead, a very clipped, specific phrase with its own urgent cadence, said loudly, but never yelled. It is,

"Need some help in here!" With one exclamation point.

When you use this signal, help is on the way and you don't even have to look up and check. Someone is coming down the hall, likely with machines and supplies and experts, and you're not going to be alone in this for long. Whatever has happened-- a fall, a seizure, someone coding and you starting CPR-- at least it won't be happening to just you anymore.

The first time Kayla goes to give that signal in Blood Gulch, she only manages to stop herself by a few seconds, the sound almost out of her mouth. She's covered in blood that pulses out of huge wounds with every chest compression, she's begging this guy to stay with her-- who is he again? does it matter?-- mind racing. And coming to the entirely correct conclusion that she can't do this on her own.

But there's no signal. Because no one's coming.

The only other medic is at the other base and they're not due to brush past each other as they rotate for at least two more days. And there's no one else here with training... just her. Her shoulders ache already from the compressions. She pulls back. Five long seconds of silence and stillness as she tries to find a pulse. Starts again. Counting out loud in that urgent monotone.

"One. Two. Three. F--"

"Holy shit. HEY!! FOUND'EM!!!"

Her body keeps working, mouth keeps counting, driven by the ease of long practice, and she glances up. Can't remember this one's name, either. He's angry and panicked, but the panic seems to be winning.

"What do we do? Why didn't you yell for help?!! We couldn't find you!!"

"I--- no one here is a medic!"

"So?!! We can still help!" He glances down at her hands, red and white from the pressure of being interlaced and pounced down over and over by arms that are now trembling with fatigue. "Fucking move!"

She shouldn't give that task over to someone without training, and she knows it. She should at least ask if he knows what he's doing before giving up. But her arms feel like water and she's breathing hard, five cycles in... she grabs the dressing that she's had her eye on for all this time and presses down on the worst wound. Another pair of hands appears next to hers, albeit using some kind of-- oh, it's his undershirt-- to soak up the blood. That is not sanitary.

"Like this?"

"Y... yeah. Um. Thank you. Can you... can you hold both of them while I start an IV?" This is so wrong, her voice almost won't come out.

"Yeah. Move your hands." His are quickly becoming just as bloodsoaked as hers. But she gives up and sits back to grab the start kit, and briefly gets a pulled back, bird's eye view:

The patient on the floor, in a puddle of blood, half in and half out of his armor. He's unresponsive still. But all around him are moving bodies and hands, chatter, no steady cadence of counted compressions--she's not even sure this guy's doing them right--and a lot of cursing. It only takes two seconds, but those are the two seconds she's thinking about later as she climbs into the medbay's on-call bunk, listening to the steady beeping of monitors hooked to the (somehow, thanks to his teammates, miraculously still alive) patient. She learned his name later. And everyone else's.

None of them have the correct training for this. She hadn't even tried to call for help-- but someone's alive just down the hall because help found her instead. She sighs, staring up into the darkness.

This is going to take some getting used to.

[slocumjoe]

Gage with Sole that gets lost in nuka cola world? Like he doesnt pay attention to them for one second and they already wandered off and has no clue where they at "gage pick me up im scared and there are flying ants"

aka my experience being underleveled and doing the hardest areas of the park first :'D

Gage and Overboss's No Good, Very Bad Vacation In Nuka World

Realistically, Gage should have anticipated it. It's was a theme park, they were designed to be massive labyrinths with money sinks at every corner. The bigger and more confusing it is, the more likely someone will get lost and wander, and hopefully stumble into a shop or something. This is basic Capitalist Design 101.

Another thing he should have expected was that there were damn good reasons the other parks weren't already full of raiders, living the high life. Colter didn't do it because he was lazy; no one else did for fear of death. Gage himself never heard of anyone coming back from the other parks, that means they don't.

So, really, he should have considered it his own damn fault for not thinking about it, the first time he lost track of his shiny new Overboss.

That first time, it happened in that bottling plant. They went into a door, he followed behind, they went into another door, and another, and shit got weird from there when the soda river erupted with crabs.

He killed some crabs. They killed some crabs. He turned to see where they were killing crabs and saw jack shit.

It was then that he realized that the bottling plant was echoey as fuck, and he hadn't been behind them for...a good ten minutes, at least, just following noises that came from God knows where.

Gage didn't know the layout of the place. Neither did they. The fact that the river is just one line doesn't help shit, because there's employee tunnels, manufacturing, the rest of the plant. The plant was fucking big. They could have been anywhere. Whererever they were, there was more fucking crabs. And Gage, being a good underling who had to pull a lot of strings to get to this point in the first place, wasn't very okay with the idea of his boss being crab dinner.

So he hit the legs, backtracking through tunnels, the walkways above the bottling zones/whatever the fuck those were. Kept finding crabs he didn't kill, good start. Kept hearing gunfire, grenades, crab-screaming. Less good. Ended up back on the soda river (what the fuck was wrong with these people). Accidentally triggered every fucking pre-recorded line from the intercom, which drowned out the shit he needed to hear. At this point, Boss has been fighting for their goddamn life for twenty minutes, and the walls had started to melt into one big blob of samey-samey. Not even the sky was this blue.

Eventually, they found him, pursued by six hunters. He killed some crabs. They killed some crabs. He turned around, grabbed them, and was about to threaten to put them on one of them toddler leashes if they wandered off like again. But then a pack of Assaultatrons kicked down a door and they jumped in different direction away from the lasers. Ran down different hallways. Found more crabs. Killed more crabs, pursued by Assaultatrons. He knew Boss ran back into the river, because the all of Announcer Lady's lines were playing over and over each other, like the layers of hell condensing into a pure diamond of auditory psychology warfare.

Gage didn't notice when the chaos stopped, when the robots and crabs started dropping. It just happened and he had to take a breather, find his happy place. When he met back up with the boss, they were covered in stab wounds from stimpaks, used all their ammo and grenades, and thought that a suit of power armor made up for it.

The power armor did do well against the crab kings on the roof. It did not survive the Queen in the pond.

After this, he pulled them aside, told them to slow the fuck down and not charge through places like a drunk bull in a china shop. They said yes, Gage, I will definitely do that, and I will definitely proceed with caution and carry extra supplies on my personal.

They did, for their credit.

The Mr. Frothy's, however, didn't let that stay true for long.

Both of them took one step into Galactic World, and a fucking soda nuke dropped in between them. And again, they scrambled for different cover. Then a Frothy went after Gage, and the soda bomber bot went after the boss, and they had to separate again.

It'll be fine, he thought, I'll just kite around this corner that leads back into the main area, this wall is like three feet wide, this doesn't lead into a different level entirely.

It did.

Gage made it to the middling level of the Galactic Zone, every eyebot swarming like they wanted fresh meat or some shit, and the Overboss was running from the Nukatrons and a Mr. Frothy screaming about strangling them. Couldn't go the way he came, had his own robot fixated on asphyxiation behind him. Kept running. Then the laser turrets kicked on, and this was now an exercise in agility and being God's favorite.

When the robots patrolling the park finally all died, it was midnight, Gage was half-dead, had no ammo, and no indication that the overboss was alive, save Redeye's music playing at full volume somewhere nearby. Back to Nuka-World for supplies, sleep, and a nervous breakdown.

The next day, they took on the Vault attraction.

It seemed like things were looking up. Sure, the boss got lost looking for...what, stickers on the walls? Something with dumb bottle-cap glasses. But the robots were few and far between, the space was small and linear enough Boss couldn't wander off too far, and they made it out having not used all of their ammo. It was a good sign.

They went to the Interstellar Theatre, next.

Boss had the good idea to go in quiet, sneak around. They found an elevator up to the projection room, found a starcore, and figured that the area was clear, or at least mostly safe. They just cut all the power, after all.

The robots are motion activated.

Fighting turrets, protectatrons, Mr. Handy's in the dark was bad enough. But whoever the fuck put a sentrybot in a theatre, Gage hoped they went to hell.

He found the boss trying to drown themselves in a water fountain, when the last bot went down.

Back to Nuka-World for ammo, stimpaks, and another nervous breakdown as a treat

I saw a robot fighting ring, Boss said. The bots would have already killed each other in there, they said.

So they went to the Robco Battleground.

One or two robots, the rest were dormant. Thank. God. Boss found some starcores, some good loot, went into a door in a basement with robots.

The door shut and maglocked behind them. The pre-recorded announcer starting up the match. All those dormant robots in the basement woke up. On one side of that door, the Overboss fought for their goddamn life with a bunch of tincans. On the other, Gage did the same damn thing. When it opened back up, guess what they did? Yep, back to Nuka-World for stimpaks, ammo, and another nervous breakdown. And a shower, because flammable oil is not a good thing to be covered in, when using firearms. Gage heard the boss muttering and giggling about laser turrets to the plush toy sloth they picked up, and wondered if he would have to put them down out of mercy.

And then the fucking...Nuka Galaxy ride.

So dark. So big. So long. It was the longest attraction at that fucking park. Couldn't see your hands in front of you. Gage could have lost his mind in that section with the giant fake rocks. Found a lot of dead people who did, anyway. Once the Frothy's came barreling out from a hallway, yet again, the Boss went one way, he went the other. When they killed the bots, had to marco-polo triangulate their way back to each other. And then the area with the giant UFOs, and no lighting on the scaffolding. Who the fuck made this park? None of this was OSHA compliant, surely. You know what's even less OSHA compliant?

Laser turrets on EVERY FUCKING WALL.

Laser turrets on every UFO, every ceiling, every wall, every stairwell, every giant fake rock, laser turrets everywhere. Why? Why would Nuka Cola Corporation think they needed this many? Were they expecting two dipshit raiders to come strolling on through, and hated them, specifically? They weren't fucking ashing little Timmy for lifting from the gift shop, right?

You know what else sucks? Laser turrets high above you, in a pitch black corridor, where there's a drop just mere feet in front of you.

Boss didn't get lost in here because Gage grabbed them by the scruff of their shirt if they so much as leaned too far away. No, he doesn't care what shiny thing you see, you are staying within arm's length. Fuck treasure, fuck Galactic Zone, and fuck John Nukacola, or whatever his name was.

Gage never again let them get more than five feet away from him, after Galactic Zone was cleared, and the boss never again had to whisper hateful nothings about laser turrets to their sloth toy.

[trulytiredhermit]

Among us reader AU.

Alright, let me explain.

The reader is a crewmate and in the spaceship there were only three of them left, one of them is an imposter and the reader and another crewmate was able to figure out who the imposter was, however, the imposter fought back, effectively sabotaging the entire ship before the ship fell, and while the imposter was kicked out, the two crewmates were panicking, the ship landed on a place, however, it wasn't their own world.

The chain found those two crewmates, but only one of them survived the crash, it was the reader, they still had their suit and helmet on and they just got one major injury, nothing that will immediately kill them, unless left out for long, the other crewmate.. it wasn't a sight to behold.

Lots of large wounds, the Cafeteria area was littered with both of their blood, the entire spaceship was covered in dry blood, with cafeteria being the one with the most amount of blood, not to mention the freshest.

Does the chain help them? Yes!

Are they curious as to what happened to the ship and what happened inside the ship? Ofcourse!

Do they not know what that spaceship is because they haven't seen it before? obviously!

Do the chain eventually become yanderes and think that they are the only ones who could protect the reader because they found them in such a state? ...yeah

Are they going to let them go?.. Fuck no!

*Okay so quick warning for others then, this is post is going to have blood and mentions of injuries in it! Nothing too graphic however, but thought I'd give a warning just in case!

Now, this is a very interesting concept! Color me intrigued*

First off, just going to say right off the bat, Time might be a little wary of Among Us Reader.

In short, he's gonna think Reader is an alien (and Reader technically is in this situation as they've crashed on a planet not their own), and we all know about the various interactions Time has had with aliens.

Of course, seeing Reader wounded pushes down his paranoia and his heroic side takes over. Can't just leave a most likely innocent person to die after all.

Seeing the crashed ship and all the wreckage the Chain would no doubt be in disbelief.

Especially after discovering the carnage inside.

After coming across the corpses in the medbay (I personally like to believe that while the game doesn't show it the crewmates cover the bodies respectfully in the medbay) and realizing that that blood was older and less fresh than the blood coming out of the cafeteria the Chain immediately bolt into the big room.

There they think all hope has been lost. It looks to them like there were no survivors.

Until a loud cry of pain sounds out from under a flipped over table and some rubble.

Hurrying over, Hyrule is the first to find the prone and strange outline of a trapped figure.

He doesn't know if they're wearing an outfit of some sort or if that's what they truly look like, but at the current moment he can't help to care.

After calling the rest of the group over to have them help move the rubble and table, the Chain comes to a startling realization whilst looking at the strange figure.

The head piece of their armor, and they assume it must be armor now, has cracked and pieces have broken off revealing the figure behind the mask.

This was an actual person, one who did not look so alien after all.

One who is currently bleeding out from a wound in their side and has a trail of blood running down their face.

Removing the broken helmet entirely the Chain is met with a human looking face, one with rounded ears and stunning features. If it weren't for the current circumstances some would even have blushed at the sight.

Warriors, who was off looking for more survivors, came back to the rest of the Chain with the grim news of the less fortunate figure who had not survived the crash.

But he grows the smallest bit happier when he sees that there was a survivor, even if it was only one out of the whole ship.

Acting fast Hyrule works to stabilize Reader's wounds, using his magic and having the others bring out their health potions.

Eventually Reader's wounds are all but smaller ones now. And while they may be a pain in the coming days, they'd survive.

Not wanting to stay in the haunting carnage of the ship anymore, the Chain carefully transport Reader to a nearby inn.

Days pass and Reader finally awakens.

However, they don't awaken quite so peacefully.

Instead as Reader bolts up in bed and falls off of it in their stumble to get up they jump scares the Chain, who had fallen asleep that day in the room with Reader waiting for them to wake up.

It takes a lot of calming down and gentle words, outstrechted hands showing open palms to show that they meant no harm, before Reader agrees to hear the Chain out and take a seat back on the bed.

Now things start getting explained.

The Chain tells Reader of how they saw their strange ship crashland and, being worried and curious about what happened, they tell Reader about how the searched the site and eventually stumbled across them.

They don't need to say how everyone else on the ship had died, from Reader's saddened and forlorn look on their face they can tell they already know.

After the Chain explains their side of things, they wait patiently for Reader to hopefully do the same. Give them something that could explain what happened and who they are.

And Reader eventually does, caving in to the fact that they're all alone right now but these strangers are being so kind to them. Something they've sorely missed while being on the ship that had been run rampant with ruin and suspicion of everyone and everything.

Reader explains exactly what happened on the ship. How their crewmates were picked off one by one by a monstrous being that had assumed the form of one of their friends (another small head cannon of mine since it'd be obvious who the imposter was if they assumed a random form of a person that hadn't been there before).

The Chain feels a great sense of pity and horror as Reader explains how everyone was under suspicion, even themselves, as crewmates were picked off and as their oxygen and power supplies were targeted and sabotaged relentlessly by the imposter.

The Chain feel a sense of awe, and strangely pride, as Reader tells the Chain how they along with their fellow crewmate were able to discern who the imposter was and boot them from the ship.

However, that sense of awe and pride turns into a sense of horror as Reader tearfully remarks how it had been too late. The imposter had sabotaged the flight pattern/engine.

Reader and their friend had been unable to fix the sabotaged equipment and so they knew they were going to crash and most likely die. They had accepted their fates and had gathered in the cafeteria one last time.

Reader's harrowing tale and tear speckled lashes make a strong urge rise up within the Chain.

They too have had their dangerous adventures, gone through harrowing hardships and the like. But this was something entirely new.

They felt terrible that Reader had to go through such a thing and they made a mental promise that Reader would never have to go through such an ordeal again.

This event is what sparks the need to protect and their love for Reader.

And it is the days and weeks after, where the Chain helps Reader deal with their survivor's guilt and where they spend time with Reader, that they start to fall even deeper.

You could say it was a matter of fate that Reader survived the crash landing.

To the Chain, this was simply

meant

to

be.

[levi-ish]

Enough is Enough | Jean Kirstein

Summary: It took you three years, three years avoiding something that was bound to happen; something he truly wanted to pretend would never happen. Three years after going on and off with him to finally break you, to the point that you were in the same spot you found yourself every week, on Jean’s chest, crying until your eyes were dry and your throat was burning from the inside out.

Pairing: Jean X Reader

Genre: [+18] angst, smut

Warnings: manipulation, cheating

Masterlist

“Enough is enough.”

It took you three years, three years avoiding something that was bound to happen; something he truly wanted to pretend would never happen. Three years after going on and off with him to finally break you, to the point that you were in the same spot you found yourself every week, on Jean’s chest, crying until your eyes were dry and your throat was burning from the inside out.

He never complained. He would always open the door for you to come in and lay all your sorrows onto him, crying while stuffing your mouth with ice cream and cheap wine until you felt sick, the same routine every time, like it was scheduled. Jean liked to joke about you being his own thunderstorm, that came around and shook everything up — but in truth, it was because you were a mess that was destroying everything around you.

He never complained. He would put you to bed after getting sick because of all the alcohol in your system, give you aspirins and water to make you feel better the next morning, give you the best duvet, the fuzzy one so you would feel better while cuddling it and leave the room all to yourself. He didn’t want to intrude, but would check on you every 30 minutes, to make sure you hadn’t thrown up all over the place.

He never complained. He didn’t mind that he had the work next morning, or that he had classes earlier the day, because it took only one smile from you and he was done for the week.

It would take only a smile and you were gone, as if you were never there in the first place, back in some guys arms again as you held the same genuine smile. As if you were meant to be there in the first place.

It took you three years to admit that you were broken.

For years Jean secretly hoped you would realize how bad you were hurting yourself, fingering your own wounds like it was pleasurable. Playing in your own blood as guys threw themselves upon you, offering amazing things, like you were a shiny new toy that became dull overnight.

But then, three years ago, you were introduced to his friend group, in a house party that was too big for you two, almost overbearing, and when Jean went to grab you a drink, a knight in a shining armor introduced himself as Eren, and suddenly, things changed—

—for the worse.

Eren was the same, but he held his face high, his ego above his head as he spoke to anyone. You’d get that feeling of comfort instantly, as if he was your soulmate or whatever, and that was the problem — that he was able to make you his as soon as he landed his eyes on you.

You told Jean yourself about the things you would hear: ‘you’re perfect’, ‘I’m yours’, ‘we are meant to be’, ‘you can trust me’; and all that repeated itself whenever he fucked up. And he did. Real bad.

He never bothered to make it official, he knew he had you on his feet, worshiping his every movement and serving as a rug for him to step on without care. He would hook up with random girls at parties, bars, places where you could watch from afar and suffer from the same heartbreak. But as soon as he was done, he would go back to you, hold your hands and make you feel as though you were to blame for his actions, and that taking him back was the best you could do.

And that sickened Jean.

It wasn’t because he was in love with you, no, but because he couldn’t stand to watch you break your face every time and collect your pieces to glue them back, hoping they would stay the same. He knew how bad it hurt you, and how bad it felt to feel unrequited. He just wished things were different.

So he did the same thing he would do every time you came; he put on the same old mask and held you tight in his arms as you cried deeply.

But this time, it wasn’t like the others.

You looked up from hiding in his chest, eyes teary and reddening from all the crying as you both laid on the floor, only supported by each others bodies. You had this angry rush going through your veins and being explicitly shown in your gaze, but there was something soft inside, something like peaking curiosity, like there was something you weren’t all that sure that moment.

“Enough is enough” you said as you stared right into his soul. Jean was confused, he had never seen this look, this thundering inside your orbs, like something was about to breakthrough and leave a mess behind. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Jean put one of his hands on your cheek, wiping the running tears from your face with his thumb and you leaned into his palm, now holding his wrist with your two hands, eyes never leaving him.

“Take me, Jean. Please” you pleaded as her nails dug into his skin, and now he was more confused than ever. His blood rushed through his veins faster than before and he swore that his muscles would burn his skin apart.

Wha—

“Make me forget” you moved her fingers to his face, holding his jaw in place and sniffing, containing your tears so they wouldn’t fall once more.

“I-I can’t!” He managed to say, shaking his head, and holding your forearms. “You’re blinded by the sadness, I—”

“I know what I want!” you stated, your tone was firm and self-assured, making every hair on his body stand as your eyes shot bullets through his. “I need you, Jean. You’re the one. I know you’ll make it all go away.”

You didn’t give him any warnings before connecting your lips. It was everything he ever imagined and more; the softness, the velvety tongue, the way your rhythm seemed to match his as you both held onto each other like your lives depended on it. He almost went crazy when your fingers started to explore his honeyed strands, holding his head in place while you commanded every move.

Jean snapped out of his trance and put his hands on your back, grasping your body with such tightness, as if you would run away, but the way your mouths danced together, it made him feel calmer about his fears and give in.

He loved the way you made he feel, as you praised him with cold fingertips and gave him truth in your comfort with every peck, butterfly touches flew through his skin while your whimpers began to grow. His arms hugged your small form as you climbed on his thighs to straddle him, shooting goosebumps on the poor man.

You leaned back for a moment, watching his moonlit face as his lips were covered in a shiny gleam, the same as yours. His hands moved to your waist, grabbing the fat there and massaging just above the bone as you took off your jacket without breaking eye contact, heading to the t-shirt you were wearing.

He didn’t want to look down, not wanting to disrespect you in any form, until you guided his big hands to your bare breasts, feeling the hotness of his palms as he grabbed them gently. You threw your head back slightly, letting out a soft hum and grinding slowly, making small groans form deep in his throat.

Jean gave you one small look to make sure you were consenting and dove into your skin, his hot mouth engulfing your nipples, giving the same treatment to each of them, rounding the little erect nub with his tongue. He had never been so close to you, and for years that had been the thing he wanted the most, so he made sure to enjoy while it lasted; he wanted you to feel how much he had wanted you.

You held onto his hair as you threw your head back, savoring each of the new sensations you got to experience that moment. He licked a path to your neck, feeling your heartbeats on the tip of his tongue and giving the sweet spot you held there open mouth kisses, praising with silent movements.

He trailed a way back to your lips, mouth ghosting over your sensitive skin until he found his desired destination. You welcomed him back there, holding his face as his hands were firm on your hips, guiding your every move as you felt him growing more and more by the time.

It took a little while for you to decide that it was enough and you stood, unbuttoning your pants and kicking them aside, rushing back to the mess of a man she’d let on the floor. Jean unbuckled his belt quickly as you found yourself sitting back on his lap, giving desperate pecks to his lips as he had pushed his clothes just enough to spring his hot member free.

The darkness and desperation didn’t allow you to stare for too long, quickly moving your panties to the side and sliding down on his shaft, a long mewl leaving your lips as he groaned into yours. From half-lidded eyes, you studied his expression; he had his brows furrowed and held his lower lip between his teeth, his hands gripping back on your thighs as you moved slowly.

It felt amazing, he loved how hot and wet you were, how desperate your hands tried to grab everything they could find, just so they could hold onto your desires. He loved the way your breaths came together as one and how hot the room around him felt. He loved how your nails dug onto his skin, making sure the half-crescents would be stained there the next day. But most of all, he loved how you’d chosen him to bless with your body and soul, and how connected he felt to you.

And oh, the way you moaned his name over and over as you felt him filling you up so good, he swore that was the sight that he wanted for the rest of his life.

“Ngh, Jean” you pleaded, a series of whimpers leaving your mouth. “I’m cumming.”

He held onto you tighter now, feeling the heat that pooled in his lower stomach now rush to his cock, hands going up and down your back as you got off from the closeness and hot breaths. Your grip turned stronger on his shoulders and you buried your face in the nape of his neck, moans now clearer and a mess of words falling from your mouth.

But there was one thing that he heard in the brim of the moment, that stuck onto him and was now the reason of his climax.

“I’m yours.”

You kept on repeating those words amongst sweet nothings in his ear, like a little devil trying to manipulate your thoughts, and then, you two had reached your highs, left dozing off on the wooden floor of his apartment.

It made him the happiest, to take you over and over, all night long, eyes craving into each others as the melodies of your mewls were the only things in his mind. He praised you all night long with his mouth, his cock, his body, and soul, making sure you knew you were loved and wanted the way you’d always wanted to be.

And then it was morning, and as soon as the sunlight hit Jean’s eyes, he knew it had to be a dream, a reality that would’ve only mattered to him. He turned to the side to find the empty bed, thrown covers as if you’d left in a hurry, not bothering to say goodbye, not bothering to leave behind his beating heart, his whole soul that was handed to you the night before.

Not even a note.

He would sight, feeling the emptiness rush back into his chest as he grabbed his phone, seeing that Eren had uploaded a new story, and he had the feeling he knew what it was already. And there it was, only a picture of your legs on his bed, and it was enough for him to know that he had helped you feed your lie.

You were a thunderstorm after all.

It took you three years to realize that you were stuck in something you’d gotten yourself into. And it took you one night to ruin him completely.

[djarinsbeskar]

PREQUEL ARC: PART 1 - THE DAGGER

A/N: I come bearing a brainchild. One I love deeply but am unsure of how it will be received! Straight off the bat I had planned for this to be something that satisfied those Din cravings we’ve all been having through a healthy dose of smut on the regular. BUT I wanted some background? Some context?? In my head we’ll have a few interactions i.e. chapters before the events of The Mandalorian and then kick off all guns blazing. Therefore, this pilot chapter is short, slow, and not a lot happens. (I should be in sales obv) but let’s get the ball rolling and see where it takes us!

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: Language, slight detail on wounds and their treatment.

Summary:  You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

6ABY, Derelkann, Klatooine.

The first time you met him, he’d been caught with a dagger laced with raquor’daan venom.

You had been locking up the side entrance to the voluntary medical center you spent your time at while on Klatooine when there was a resounding clatter. One of the many piles of discarded junk was toppled by an armored leg; equally armored arms braced by the side of the center while the imposing cut of the figure steadied himself. You could just about hear the labored pants, distorted by the modulator of his helmet; a sound familiar enough to you to know it wasn’t from exertion, but pain. Once you’d determined he wasn’t an immediate threat, weighing the possibilities as quickly as you could, you walked deeper down the alley towards the male. It was dark, the only light coming from the streetlight at the front of the clinic and that which was reflected from the man’s helmet but still you went. 

“Are you hurt?” The helmet snapped around to stare at you and you immediately held up your hands, instinct screaming at you that to startle this man would be like cornering a cantankerous reek during mating season: a bad idea. 

An even worse idea when you realized that your cornered reek was Mandalorian.

Even though you couldn’t see his eyes through the tinted t-visor, you could feel them on you; watching, calculating, assessing what danger you might pose all in a split second before he pushed himself from the wall with a grunt.

“This is a clinic?” He rasped, your eyes instantly following his left hand as it moved to grip above the dull grey tasset that protected his right hip. Trying to smother the pain with pressure, or stem blood loss. You couldn’t tell with his glove and the dark duraweave in the way.

“Well?” He bit out impatiently, jarring you back from trying to assess him from a safe distance.

“Oh, oh yes, yes this is one of the New Republic’s medical outreach centers in the Outer Rim. Please,” you indicated to the door for him to follow you but instead his visor tipped to the left and right marginally. You frowned; he was trying to avoid being seen. Was he wanted? After six months on Klatooine, you had learned to stop asking questions of your patients, so you said nothing. Neither did he as he walked towards the door you had been in the process of locking.

You kicked back into gear. Even though you had mentally unwound for the evening after a twelve-hour shift, you were quickly able to refocus your mind and sped up to keep pace with the Mandalorian. A task, he would probably hate to know, that wasn’t as difficult as it might have been if he was unharmed. His movements were stiff, and it was obvious that he was trying to force his body to walk fluidly despite the obvious pain it was putting him in.

The side door opened onto the main corridor that encircled a number of examination rooms, operating theatres and wards, all pointing inward so that the same power generator could be used for the entire clinic from where it sat in the center. A common feature of New Republic operations; efficient and cost effective if not always the best option. It explained why it was so dim, despite being an all-hours clinic. If they put the majority of the technological functions of the center to rest at night when it wasn’t busy, there were less fear of it being temperamental during the day. Or Maker forbid, a full power outage.

Opening the door to the closest examination room, you quickly pulled off your jacket and tossed it onto the nearest unused flat surface, pointing to the exam table in the corner, “Sit down before you fall down. A diagnostics droid will be here in---”

“No droids.” He hissed; his helmet once more twisting to glare at you even as he lowered himself heavily to sit on the table.

“No droids? Look, the quickest way---”

“You do it. I don’t want any of those things near me, got it?” His words were slurring slightly, and any argument died on your tongue when you realized trying to argue your case was just going to waste time. He was losing consciousness.

You knew you could treat him without the assistance of droids, it was more for convenience and time. But even still, you had spent four years as a combat medic for the Rebel Alliance on the frontline, you knew a thing or two about getting things done quickly.

“Belt. Tasset. Off. Now.” Was all you said as you got down to business and pulled one of the drawers to the side open. You pulled a pair of gloves on before you flicked the examination light on, the sudden glare hurting your eyes momentarily as you approached the large warrior on your table.

“Don’t make me tell you again.” You warned as you adjusted the settings on the light to focus itself to the optimum location for you to get a better look. The duraweave above his armor was dark, blood no doubt but it looked dry. You could feel your skin humming with the anxiety of not knowing what sort of injury was waiting for you underneath that gloved hand but knew better than to try to remove the armor yourself. You might not be a Siniteen, but you weren’t stupid either, to try remove a Mandalorian’s armor without permission.

You could hear the heavy exhales from him through his nose as he pointedly stared away from you, as if his sheer willpower alone would be enough to deter you from your demands.

“Fine.” You bit out and immediately slapped the hand covering his side, the added pressure making the man grunt and his hand instantly retract from the contact on instinct before growling at you in an unknown tongue.

You tuned him out as you lifted a side of the single tear in the duraweave to reveal an angry and inflamed cauterized laceration, the swelling alone telling you how botched the job was. But it was the faint black veins that were slowly growing from the point of contact that worried you. You’d seen this kind of wound before, on Sriluur. It was commonly used in gang warfare that had engulfed the planet since the fall of the Empire.

“Fucking hell, what idiot cauterizes a poisoned wound?” You muttered to yourself, feeling around the edges of the gash lightly and earning a shaky exhale from your patient.

“Are you calling me an idiot?” The Mandalorian bit out as he turned his helmet to look down at you again, his hands fisted at the side of the table. The jolt of pain had revived him slightly.

“If you’re the one who cauterized it, then yeah. I’m surprised you haven’t already killed yourself accidentally with this level of carelessness.”

You stood before the warrior could respond but you heard his snarl through the modulator as you quickly began grabbing the supplies you’d need.

“I’m not going to tell you this won’t hurt because honestly, it’s going to massively suck. It would have been bad enough if you’d shown up with an open wound infected with raquor’daan poison, but we’re going to have to reopen yours if we want to be able to extract the poison.” You threw a sterilized scalpel into the metal pan that hovered beside you, along with gauze, several saline syringes and bactaspray before you walked back over to him.

The armored warrior said nothing and stared at you, a flash of awareness running through you suddenly; that he could so easily kill you, wounded or not.

The silence stretched for several long seconds before the Mandalorian reached down to unbuckle the utility belt around his waist unhurriedly and dropped it beside him so that it wasn’t in either of your way. It was a blatant challenge when he leaned back on his hands, his visor staying trained on you as you narrowed your gaze; the belt could come off, but the tasset stayed on.

In another situation, the act might have been almost erotic, with his fingers unbuckling the belt deliberately slow as if daring you to speak to the contrary. Silent, yet commanding your undivided attention as he made himself comfortable on the table. But alas, the man in front of you was poisoned and that tended to skew the situation away from sexy.

You arched a single brow, picking up the scalpel as you accepted the proverbial gauntlet thrown to you.

“Buckle up, pal.”

***

You were a demon. Hell spawn sent to torment him in his dying moments, doomed to have no peace before the end.

At least, that’s what Din told himself as you set the wicked sharp blade of the scalpel against his skin. The skill with which you sliced open the recently closed wound before he could even blink was both inspiring and chilling. He didn’t know what he expected a medic on Klatooine to look like, but it certainly wasn’t you. You looked much too soft, too young but the unwavering focus in your gaze as you gently pulled the seams of the wound apart told him of an inner steel.

His inner lamentations over demonic medics and soft eyes distracted him fabulously from the pain of the wound he’d received on Sriluur while picking up a quarry up until the hellion squeezed one side of the wound, making him shout at the blend of white hot agony and surprise at which the pain came.

“Fucking hell!” he growled, shifting under your ruthless touch.

“Stop moving, Mando. The poison needs to be pulled out and since you don’t want droids we’re doing it the old fashioned way.” You didn’t raise your eyes to him, even as he glared daggers at the top of your head, a hiss of pain leaving him again as you pressed along the exposed flesh towards the edge of the wound again, his head spinning at the expelled blood, the crimson laced with inky black.

A moment of relief followed as the medic cleaned the wound with the saline solution before she wiped it down and repeated the process of squeezing the poison out followed by a clean.

“Almost there… hang in there. You’re doing great.” Din rolled his eyes behind his helmet; the generic medical praise made his stomach churn. It was obvious you had slipped into autopilot, rehashing the same comments that made most patients relax while you shifted to try get the opposite edge. This one being significantly more difficult to clean as the piece of armour that he had flatly refused to take off, was making it awkward to move around.

“Son of a druk throwing skrog!” If he wasn’t in pain, he’d have chuckled at the absolute filth coming from your mouth, putting a pirate to shame while you blew a few stray hairs that had fallen from your tie and into your face during your attempts to shift yourself to better clean the wound. As it was, he just leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, reciting the Creed in his head to distract himself.

He couldn’t decide if you belonged fighting in a shady cantina or leading a triage camp on a battlefield. All he could determine, was that you had a mind that didn’t falter at the lack of technology or use of droids (a rarity these days), you had a mouth that’d make even Paz Vizsla blush and the spine to tell a Mandalorian to remove his armor without the least bit of hesitation. In a word; you were dangerous, and Din never saw the need to experience more danger than he already did, thank you very much.

He tilted his head when he heard you release a breath and sit back on your haunches, running the back of your hand across your forehead, eyes bright as they looked at your work. In what Din could only explain as being delusions brought on by overexposure to raquor’daan venom, a moment of attraction flashed in his mind, kindled when you looked back up at him before he wrangled the feeling away.

Dangerous. Definitely dangerous, he warned himself heatedly.

***

You let out a sigh of relief when the blood from the Mandalorians wound ran clean. It wasn’t a definitive answer to whether you had gotten all the raquor’daan venom out, but it was the majority. At least now you could sleep easy knowing some bactaspray would be able to handle the rest.

You rinsed the wound once more with saline and dried it gently with a clean pad before spraying it generously with the bacta.

“Now then, at least I can say a Mandalorian didn’t die on my watch.” You commented cheerfully, your more easy-going side surfacing now that the immediate danger had been dealt with.

The warrior was silent above you as he watched you peel open a bactapad to cover the wound for extra protection.

“Don’t cauterize it again until you’ve given the bacta at least eight hours with direct contact. That should kill off any of the poison I may have missed and will keep it sterile.” Pushed yourself to your feet, pulling off the stained gloves and throwing them into the pan to be disposed along with all the soiled gauze and pads you had used.

“You’re looking for light pink at the edges.” You told him as you continued to clear up your supplies, “If it’s still angry and swollen at the edges after twenty-four hours you’ll need to return to a medical facility. But I’ll throw in some antibiotics, so you hopefully don’t have to, raquor’daan venom is potent after all. I wouldn’t take any chances if you’re going to say you think it’s overkill.”

You smiled as he lowered his hand, having lifted it to interrupt you, no doubt. You could hear him grumble a bit while he pulled his belt back around his waist, grunting softly as the weight settled on his hip.

“How does it feel?” You probed from the sink, turning your head to look at him as you washed your hands.

“Better.” Was all you got from him but from what you could tell, he was a man of few words anyway.

You nodded and turned back to turn off the tap and started measuring out three days of antibiotics, keeping him in your peripheral as you saw him get to his feet, rolling his shoulders back and turning to look at you.

“Thank you. I appreciate the help.” He rasped awkwardly, obviously not accustomed to actually being helped in these kinds of situations. He fished out a pouch of credits when you approached him to hand him the antibiotics, causing you to frown.

“These medical centers were set up to offer free medical care to those that need it.” You mentioned as you moved out of his way to lean against the table he had been sitting on not five minutes prior.

“I… can only offer you my gratitude then.” He said, nodding to you once more before heading towards the door.

“One more thing Mando.” You called as he opened the door, the beskar helmet turning slightly to indicate he was listening,

“Try not to get yourself killed by accidentally sealing venom into your body again, yeah?”

You laughed at the indignant snort that left the man as he left without a word, his voice trailing back as he walked away,

“If I do, I know where to go.”

And with that, he disappeared back the way he came, no indication that one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy had even been in your examination room.

He was like a tornado, arriving and disappearing in a flash, the wreckage left behind not immediately obvious but when you would look back in the years to come, you’d laugh at how naïve you had been to think you could assist a Mandalorian and still remain an insignificant player on the grand stage of the galaxy.

[iamdarkness]

Taboo

Alfonse x Summoner.NSFW 18+

This one goes to the people who wanted an Alfonse Summer atl. At least we got Freyr.

 Taboo: from Tongan tabu ‘set apart, forbidden’

 Summoner POV

As a person who comes from the “World of Steel” I am be very used to most levels of nakedness in people. I mean, when you do P. E. at school or when you go to the gym or running at the park, or the beach, and watch TV; we are all bombarded by all kinds of nakedness. We are used to looking at other people’s bodies as something normal.

   When I got to Askr I met heroes of all kinds and many of them are just like me in that they find levels of nakedness normal. Take Hawkeye for for example. He is quite a gentleman and in his culture it is quite normal to be half naked.

 Leading the heroes I got used to them and their bodies enough that I view most of them with a more clinical eye, like a doctor would. When they are wounded and I help treat them, I see their bodies just as a doctor would. The same goes when I see them in the beach or the spring. This make them much more comfortable around me. So much so that some of the heroes have tried to play tricks on me and see me crack.

  Like the time the most unlikely pair, consisting of Niles and Henry played a trick on older Ike. They took his clothes when he was in one of the baths, locked his room and hid his clothes in my office (which is attached to Alfonse’s). They told him not to worry “ The Summoner is asleep.” I was definitely not asleep and saw the guy in all of his muscular glory. Did I get flustered? Not really. I mean at first it was like “WTF”, but I was not ogling the guy! He was all freaked out, and I got worried. Besides, I have seen him almost naked before. What is a little more skin? Well it wasn’t little to be fair…it was actually quite a lot…

  I was quietly reading a report on my writing desk, all hunched over, when he came silently in and stood right in front of me. I waited for him to talk. I thought it was Alfonse at first, coming to get my report, so I did not even say anything. I am used to him just coming in and sit to wait for me to finish my work quietly. Then Ike stands just in front of the desk and I look up to see a mop of dark blue hair over his “Ragnell”. I look all the way up to see Ike looking over at the bookcase behind me. He was not yet aware I was awake.

   -Ike? What are you looking for?- I ask calmly looking back to the bookcase behind me to see what he was looking for. I hear a yelp and something heavy falling down. I look around and find him on the floor covering himself with his hands. His eyes were wide opened and he could not talk for a second. He just kept opening and closing his mouth and said “ I can explain.”in a strangled voice. Alfonse chooses that exact moment to come inside and finds me standing up to give Ike my coat so he can cover himself up. What does he see? I am undressing my self in front of Ike and Ike is naked on the floor.

 ...NICE…

   Yes we were able to clear that up. Alfonse even laughed about it and still does sometimes, but that was only the beginning.

   Some time later Dieck comes inside the study Alfonse and I use in the library. Now we all know Dieck always uses the bare minimum on clothes, but this time he is wearing only his pants and boots. As soon as he comes in, he starts taking his pants off (And of course he is not wearing underwear) and looks at Alfonse and say.

   -Oh Your Majesty is here too? Oh don’t worry; I don’t mind.- He now is butt naked and kicking his boots off. I turn to Alfonse with a ‘WTF’ face and I see him tomato red and very angry. He looks at me and…Why…is he angry at me too? What did I do?

   -Dieck… what the hell is going on?- I ask calmly because I feel Alfonse is going to blow a gasket and any loud noise will set it off.

   -I am here for the check up.- He says simply and his smile falters a little, looking sideways at Alfonse. I focus on his face like it is a normal conversation. Doctors and nurses can do this and so can I.

   -What check up?

   -The one you ordered to check our birthmarks and scars, just in case we are killed and there is no other way to identify our bodies.- I turn to Alfonse and I give him a questioning look, but he appears to not have heard anything except the “the one you ordered”. He is looking at us both angrily back and forth.

   -Umm…Well now that you mentioned it… It sounds like a good idea, but I have never given that order. Whoever told you that? -Still focused on the face.

   -One of the soldiers…so it is not true?- He asks now red in the face, which is very weird because this man has no sense of shame when it comes to showing off. Then he goes to cover himself with his hands, but too late Dieck, I already saw it all.

   -Well no, but it is a good idea, right Alfonse?- I say thoughtfully. He seemed to have regained his senses and is now still red, but his face is lowered and he just nods.

   -Oh…I should go then and find that (he whispers some curses under his breath)…I… -He takes his pants and puts them on. I start making a note about the idea to tell Anna.- I am sorry ______.

   - Don’t worry Dieck. No harm done. This has happened before and just so you know I liked the idea, but if we do make it happen, it would be a member of the healing team doing the check up.- He looks skeptically at Alfonse who is pinching the bridge of his nose and has his eyes closed. You know, that face he does when he is about to lose his patience? Well that one.

   -Oh! Thanks for letting me know.

   -I want to know if you can identify the soldier that told you this. Please see me tomorrow after breakfast,at the training ground.- Alfonse tells Dieck and there is a determined look on his face. Dieck looks back at him and with just the same look, agrees to it.

   At the end we did use that idea, but meanwhile I had four other heroes coming in to undress in my presence. One of them being Lady Camilla who agreed to dismember whoever was the culprit of the trick. The other was Libra who looked about to faint when he was informed he had been tricked by someone. King Claude, who laughed about it and congratulated whoever had bested him in his kind of game; and finally Sonia, who paraded around the room, even after I told her it was not necessary for her to undress. The culprit ended up being Xane ,and Marth was not lenient with him. Neither was I. I mean whoever plays a trick like that on Libra?! Yes! He is a guy!

 This keeps happening periodically, specially with new heroes. It is like some kind of hazing ritual.

   At this point I have seen at least one version of all the heroes naked for one reason or another and like I said before, they seemed to be very comfortable around me and my professionalism.

  Yet I, being myself can’t get used to showing much of my own body due to my insecurities. I mean I may exercise and maybe train but I keep myself still kind of covered up almost all the time. It is a uniform after all. I even have to wear that tiara they gave me. I look like royalty XD

  Askr itself has it’s own norms and they are far more conservative when it came to dress codes and overall behavior. I mean Alfonse sometimes sounds like I imagine my great grandpa sounded back in the day. And this is when I realized something. I have never seen Alfonse in any kind of undress and…It kind of bother me. Why? Because he was the only one person I was attracted to in all of Askr. I loved that man’s mind, heart, personality and skill…in everything he did.

 I knew I was in love with Alfonse at this point, but it had taken another Alfonse showing a little chest to understand that I was the the most sexually frustrated of all my life and that looking at his chest was doing things no one else had done in their entire nakedness. Hell not even porn or hentai had given me the high I got from imaging my Alfonse in that outfit. I mean…not that I used to watch porn or hentai. I know what they are, but the time I did watch, it was all meh. I even thought it was funny. I mean, who isn’t curious about that ? I suppose we have all gone at least once and taken a look at it? Right?…right?

   I remember plain as day I stood there stunned into silence, and probably mouth agape the whole time. I must have looked like an idiot or a pervert! My Alfonse was red as a tomato and trying so hard to avoid my gaze. At the end of the day, the only thing I got out of him was a little laugh and a small  “I am so glad, we do not share that costume here in Askr.”

 …..FUCK!

   I find my self starting at his UN-globed hands when he is drinking tea or eating. I try not to, but the white smooth surface of the back of his hands contrast with the rough calloused fingers, so used to gripping sword and shield. They can also play the sweetest of sounds on a violin and I find that so sexy. Those same long white fingers so tempting and beautiful in their strength and skillfulness. Sometimes I stop my self from wondering how they would feel and...<<What them fingers do Alfonse?!! No ! Stop!>>

  It is true I touch him often. Touch is my love language and even though I always make sure to give people that do mind, their personal space, I do know that Alfonse does not mind. Alfonse may not be a huger, but it does not mean he does not enjoy being touched by people he holds close to him or for them to be near him. Also yes, I have helped him with his wounds but, most of the time I am to damn worried to actually take time to enjoy the touch of his skin and to be hones I find that quite a violation of trust, so I do not indulge in it.

   Sometimes he has caught me starting at the brim of his scarf and under-armor for a glimpse of his neck and I feel so embarrassed by it, but the thought of kissing him there is so tempting to me and I long so much to see past that barrier. He always covers himself again when he sees it is revealing more that that fraction of his neck… And Lord above! Is he smiling?

   The curse of all of this is, that yes we have Summer here in Askr, but it is not as hot and you have to travel to the beach to be seriously hot. He has never gone to the beach with us, since I arrived here.  I am not counting the times we do go, because Anna comes up with some scheme to raise money for the order, because we all wear the uniform then. Whenever he goes to the hot spring; he does it by himself, when Sharena and I are doing something else. Even while going to the river he wears long sleeves, because …bugs. I have asked Sharena and she just answered that she had not noticed and why I was interested….Oh you know…scientific purposes Sharena…

  At first I feel so sad and rejected. Fine…I get it. You are not interested in me and do not welcome my intrusive looks…but…he gives me so many mixed signals! Why is he so close at meetings and I can feel his fingers touching mine. He has taken my hands in his many times. When another hero flirts with me he always appears out of nowhere with knitted brows and a disapproving stare. Prince Hrid came to say ‘Hi’ once and to talk to me, and next thing I know Alfonse drops everything to be next to me as well. Hrid even asked me if we were engaged ! I wish Hrid!

 Well I suppose that is what friends do right? Maybe he does not want me falling in love with a hero and leaving Askr while they need me here. But I talked to him already. I am not returning “home” and I am not leaving…because…How can I leave and not see him again? Not that I wanted to return “home” to begin with, and it seemed impossible to fall in love with someone else other than him.

   I have seen heroes flirting with him as well, and he seems unimpressed by any of them. I have heard other heroes telling the rejected ones, “He has eyes only for the Summoner.” …But what had they seen that I don’t? So I go and ask Sharena and she just laughs it up and says to give him time. He is shy and self conscious.

 …So he does like me, but is very shy and very busy and very self conscious and insecure? OK…I can work with that. Like a great elf king said once; “I am patient; I can wait.” But not that much cause I’m not an elf.

   Then Lif came and I thought “Hell! Even his grandpa show more skin than him!”

 Lif came like a shadow from the grave that will take your last breath. To be honest, he looked more like Death than Hel herself. Except… He was HOT. I felt bad for even thinking that, when the Goddess of Death was trying to end us all, and most specially Alfonse. And you see, that is when I got angry. How the heck was an ancestor of the Askr royalty helping that crazy witch, end his descendants?

   Lif attacked us and tried to, I suppose…kidnap me? He made a bee line to where I was standing and fell all the soldiers on his way. It was weird! I was about to bolt, because the training I had, would not stop the guy who just felled like twenty guys on his way, but something, not fear, took hold of me and I just…those eyes… It was like ten seconds in which I looked into his eyes and saw so many emotions in them, that I could not understand and then I could not move….ten seconds and he was already there in front of me, not attacking but there!

   Alfonse came before Lif had taken me or whatever he was going to do. He ended up with a bruised knee and ankle. I went to help him with some salves and bandages when we were done with the rest of the more serious injured people. He took off his shoe and rolled up the under armor. His ankle was not swollen and his knee was bruised but it was not swollen. I put some salve any way.  

  -What happened? I saw it from afar and felt I would not get there fast enough. Where was Dimitri?- He said a little angry, since King Dimitri was one of my supports alongside him and he was tasked today with being my guardian. I was still massaging his ankle not even thinking about it.

  -They were circling us from the back and Dimitri had to fall back to take care of it…Umm…I don’t know what happened. It was weird. He looked at me and he just…

   -I saw it too.- Said Sharena who came to stand behind Alfonse.- It was like he hit you with a spell.

   -It didn’t feel, like a magic attack. I was more like… I don’t know…- I felt weird about it, so I just made some stupid joke to lighten the mood- Why didn’t y’all tell me your grandpa was so hot? Heh , heh, heh heh! What? It’s not my fault! He kind of looks like you Alfonse.- Hey I was nervous and I do this when I get nervous!

   At first They gave me their “ Seriously?” stare, but Sharena catches on quick and starts laughing out loud. Alfonse? Well he scowls and close his eyes and then takes his foot away from my hands. What?? wait I didn’t get the chance to enjoy that! Damn! Next thing I know, he is taking his sock and starts putting in on. I see his smooth white skin peppered with… is that golden hair? Does it have a blue in it? and my throat closes dry. I follow his movements, as hypnotizing as a dance, rolling up that white sock that is taking away my hopes and dreams. Then the under armor goes down and boot on. It took him like ten seconds, that I totally did not count. Then his hands were covered as well.

 I look up at him with my hands still hovering in the same place as when he took away his leg and see him smiling sideways. I compose myself and…Wait…What? Is he doing this on purpose? Seriously? And the worst part is, that it should not bother me at all, but the truth is…I am very bothered by it. He has become a some sort of taboo to me and GOD how I love the guy! If it was someone else like Robin who never looses that coat of his and globes; I would not care! But I love him Lord. Why is he like this? I used to thank God I was not one of those feet fetishes people, and now I will be dreaming of his feet.  Thanks Alfonse!

 Joking. I respect feet fetish people. To each their own.

 The point is that I feel like those people in Victorian novels, where they get all hot and bothered by someone’s ankle showing more than normal! Oh but what an ankle that was tho’. Stop. Focus!

   I resolve to see him as clinically as any other hero and not stare at the shape of his ears and think of how I want to whisper how much I love him while kissing it…Grrr…I’m doing it again.

   Days later we see Lif again and Alfonse is cursed…We have nine days. Good thing Hel has not seen The Ring or it might have been only seven. Yeah I joke now, but back then I was about to commit murder and then kill myself…or something just as dramatic.

 We searched for days, a way to undo the curse and we found nothing. You’d think I would have taken a page from Dean Winchester's book and played the “last days on Earth” trope to get into his pants; but to be honest nothing like that even crossed my mind at the time! I was so desperate to keep him alive that nothing else matter to me. He could have paraded naked in front of me at the time I was at the library and I would not have noticed…Well, maybe I would have, but it didn’t happen so it doesn’t count

   Until the sixth night of the curse.

   There was a knock at the door to my chamber. Oh! Did I mentioned we have a shared study? Because we do. It is between our chambers and it can only be entered from our rooms. It was his idea and it was for safety reasons. The nights I have spent sitting by the chimney staring at his door…but never mind that. He knocked at my chamber door and when I opened it, he was about to leave. He was wearing sleeping pants, a long sleeve night shirt and socks, all in white.

   We had fallen asleep next to each other at the library before of course, especially during the days he was cursed. And yes we used to huddle together during our march through Nifl. It was effing cold OK. We also usually had our sleeping rolls next to each other during campaigns, because we fall asleep while talking or after a watch,but we had never slept together on a bed. Beds are…intimate to him I suppose.

This night however, he came in and he just goes on and sit on my bed. He said nothing. I sat next to him and reached over to give him a hug. He took this as his cue and hugged back and didn’t let go. He clung to me with such force I was starting to feel dizzy. I asked him to stay the night. He nodded and still said nothing. I blew out the candle I was using to read and we went to sleep while he hugged me tightly. It was no surprise to me, but it was not so much fear that I could see in him. It was so many emotions, that fear seemed to be the least of his problems; but of course he was afraid. We spend together the following nights of his curse. Funny thing is …all those nights I dreamed of his Grandpa, watching over from my balcony window.

  And did I had a glimpsed of something while sleeping together? No. He came in and blew the candle out and by the time I woke up he was already awake. Not like I would have gone and taken advantage of his sleeping form to explore or something. I just thought later that if I had woken up before him, then may be I would have seen his shirt riding up or his pants lowered a little or maybe his sock had fallen off or something. Oh well…They were still the best nights of my life, even if they didn’t feel like that at the time. I mean, I got to be held like I was the most precious and sacred treasure in the world by my beloved. I would care for nothing else.

 Then…Grandpa is actually Alfonse from the future…

 Lif, as he goes by now, told us everything that had happened in his Askr. Which is weird because I had been dreaming of something like that and I thought it was stress.

 We spent some days in that dead world and I got to see Lif a few times. He looked curious about me, but at the same time I noticed he was avoiding me. The way he looked at Sharena really broke my heart every time I caught him starting at her. In turn Sharena looked ready to adopt him, if only he would let her do it.

One of those night I was having a nightmare about me dying while I saw Anna drop dead as if by magic. I woke up to find Lif watching me from afar. I got up and went to talk to him before he ran away.

 We talk for a while. I do not want to intrude on painful memories, but he seems to know me so well it feels natural to talk to him, just like it is to Alfonse.

 -You two…you are not lovers yet?- He asks eyeing me sideways.

 -No. Where you…?

 -Yes. After the first attack. We spent some weeks fighting Hel together. Is he still playing hard to get then?-Oh and there it was.

 -Oh! So it is not my imagination! God I thought I was going insane! Oh that Bunny suit messed me up! I love that chest!…wait. Is that why you have your chest out? - He nods.- And the glow…I noticed Thrasir does not have that glow and I love glow in the dark…ermm… It is an awesome design I have to say. I like it. It is sexy.- I felt bad for the lack of tact but at the same time he needed to know I did not find him ugly or scary any more.

 -You were always odd like that Summoner.- He says that in his deep voice, and it conveys a lot of feelings.

 Did he let me touch his chest? No…and I didn’t really ask to be honest. My respects to Lif. He gave up everything for us. I owe him a lot.

 Well, now I knew for sure and I could confront him or let him keep doing it, or maybe just seduce him. It was strange. I always thought it only worked on men, but I guess it does work goes both ways! At least it help me to fall in love with his mind and heart first, not his body.

 Next day we were walking out of Lif’s castle when the floor gave in and Alfonse and I fell through it. Luckily it was not even high, but I am not as tall as Alfonse and with my luck, part of my coat and shirt got caught on a sharp part of a broken stone pillar, and I was left hanging about one feet off the ground by one shoulder. I tried wiggling off the coat but I could not do it.

 -Are you hurt _____?- Alfonse asks worriedly getting up from where he landed on the floor.

 -No! I think I just got scratched! But I can’t unhook my self.

 - Only you _____.- Says Alfonse smiling and getting dust out of his uniform.

 -Thanks Alfonse…Can you help me down?

 He looks around and up for a while and then stares at me for a few minutes. Probably thinking how to approach the problem, but seriously I think he could just reach up and unhook me. He is tall enough for that.

  He comes close to me and circle my waist with his left arm and places his left leg between my legs to find leverage on the pillar behind me. He reaches over my head with his right arm to unhook my coat. Being this close to him is so exiting. My heart begins to race and I start feeling kind of hot. I try not to think about it and avoid my gaze from his face, but I can’t help looking at him.

 There was not much light coming down from the hole above us, but I could see the side of his face and ear…yeah the same ear I wanted to…OK! Not now! He took this time to move his leg up to hold my weight up, and I was left straddling it. He kind of wiggled it to adjust and…Oh boy! It felt good, good.

<< Oh no! Don’t move it anymore…>> I was praying for him not to move that leg, because God in heaven, I was going to come right there and then.

 …And he moved it again but higher and harder…

 -Mmmn- Oh GOD! I did not just moan into his ear. I mean, I am not horny all the time, come on! It is just that, he is so close I can smell him. He smells so deliciously manly, and his leg is touching just the right places!!

 Meanwhile he is frozen in place. It seems like he is thinking about what to do or maybe just not thinking at all. I personally think he will be leaving me hanging there to be hones. I am so embarrassed, I lower my face to hide it, but we are so close, I end up hiding my face in the crook of his neck.

 He gasps and I can feel his arm tightening on my waist and I get even closer to him. I feel him moving his head a little as if to see my face and then…he moves the leg again as if testing it. This time slowly. I tried and fail to stifle another moan but it still comes out. He moves his hips upwards and keeps moving the leg. It creates just the right amount of friction needed. I feel my hips move on their own to meet him.

 -Alfonse…- My legs tighten around his and when I come close to his manhood I can feel his arousal as well.

 -_________- He whispers my name softly as my leg touches him. All this while he is still moving that blessed leg back and ford. I am panting at this point and he feels like he is in the same situation. All of this brought me to my knees. I came hard. I sat there shuddering in his arms and biting my hand because the stone caused every little noise to sound louder. I felt him kissing my hair.

 We heard some loud footsteps up above us and then…

 -Hey! You need help down there!- I hear Barst’s voice over my head. He does not sound or look like he heard anything.

 -We are fine…I just need …to get her down.- Alfonse’s voice sound a little strained but Barst takes it to mean he es working on helping me down. Just like that, he unhooks my coat and lowers me down gently, still not letting go.

 -I’m getting a ladder!- He’s gone and we can hear his footsteps getting farther away.

 Alfonse steps forward still with me in his arms ,until my back is against the pillar and then looks at me and kisses me hard.

  I am dizzy by the time he lets go. - He is coming back.- He says against my neck and bites into it. I am sure they could hear that whimper that left my mouth. And can you blame me? He just bit into my neck and at the same time moved his hips in a way that I could feel his manhood rub against me. Both his hands were lowered to my hips and he used them to have me closer to him. All this while, he gave this utterly sexy guttural sound that almost sounded like a growl… He lets go, takes a step back and turns around, a moment later a ladder is lowered.

 -You go. I will explore down here a moment.- He says in a firm voice not looking at me.

  I go up the ladder still a little shaky and flushed. I tel Barst to let him explore to see what he can find, but to leave the ladder for him to get up. Darn I wanted to go “exploring” with him. Just imagining what he is doing down there is doing things to me. Good thing everyone thought I was scared of what had happened. I only had a scratch to show.

 He came back much later.

 …Well that was a lot of “exploring”.

 He comes to the camp outside the castle and we are ready to leave just after lunch. At first he seems reluctant to be near me. I am freaking out because well, overthinking and anxiety mixed with insecurities is a bad mix. Finally after half a day of travel, we make camp and post the watch. He comes and sit by my side when I am eating. We don’t talk about it until we are left alone to go to rest.

 -I…I apologize Alfonse. It wasn’t my intention. I…it just happened.- I tell him when he doesn’t speak.

 - It wasn’t my intention either…you don’t have to apologize. I have been wanting to tell you. I…have feelings for you. I just did not want to say it in a situation like that and not at a time like this. I wanted it to be special. I am in love with you _____.

 -I love you too Alfonse. I have for a long time… I’m sorry I ruined it…but I could not help but enjoy having you so near.- He is scarlet red, but smiling.- Which by the way, is your fault.- He looks puzzled.- Sir you are playing dirty.

 -How so? - He asks.

 -You are playing hard to get with my heart.

 -Oh that game you started playing with mine?-He asks arching an eyebrow.

 -What? Me? When? You don’t even let me see your hands for God’s sake. I never saw you flirting with me.

 -I…hold your hands.- He says blushing. Well that was so Alfonse of him.-…erm…You used to never take off that coat or those pants. You were all mysterious and unreachable- Mysterious? Well, firs time someone said that about me.

 -You wanted me to take off my pants?- He turns red again -I was…insecure. I mean look at those gorgeous women out there and I get all jealous and insecure. I felt safe with my coat on. What was your excuse?

 -The same…I am jealous and insecure…Well, I was at first, but then I noticed something about you. - I give him a questioning look.- You could look at any hero in the nude and not get flustered by it. When I asked you why; you told me they where just natural human bodies to you. You sounded like they were nothing special; like you had analyzed bodies so much you did not find them beautiful or sacred any more. You said you studied them at school and everyone paraded half naked in musical shows and the like. Later you told me you did find them beautiful in an artistic or scientific kind of way but it did not make it better to me.

 How to make someone like you fall in love….with me? I listened to you and how you praised my intellect and skills, and I knew you were attracted to those qualities, but there are other men with intellect and skills at home too. I needed to find a way to be special to you.

  It was only when we met that other Alfonse dressed in a bunny costume that I understood. The way you looked at him made me so envious and jealous. What was so special about him? I saw you ogle his body like he was the most sinful of apparitions, and he looked just like me! I was frustrated. That same evening I saw you looking differently at me, and I could not help but feel elated about it.

 I spied you looking intently at my naked hands and when I put on my globes, that look of disappointment did not escape my eyes. It occurred to me that you had never seen me in any state of undress and it must have been strange to you. I understood how you felt now. I have been watching heroes for years. Beautiful women I have been watching on a daily basis and none of them feel spacial, even if they have beautiful bodies,or incredible skills. Yet the day I saw you wearing regular clothes I …well I…- He blushed, lowered his face and left the sentence hanging.

 I flirted with the idea of letting you see more of me, but then I would just become like any other hero, and I wanted more than that. I want so much more.- Now he looked at me, and there was so much love and affection in his eyes, I could have melted in the spot.

 I have to confess I enjoyed seeing you flustered when you could see a little of me. That made me feel special, but I did not want to be just a mystery to you either. I wanted your heart and soul,your love not only your lust. I needed to to know you loved me.

  I had a talk last night with Lif. He told me they were lovers …His summoner and him. He told me I was being a fool just wasting time. He said that if you were anything like his ______, then you loved me, jut like his summoner did him. _______, I want what they had…I want everything, but I am afraid. Between this situation and the war with Embla…You understand me, don’t you?

 - I understand you. I suppose the time is not right. I don’t want to look back on the day we finally are together and remember all these tragedies. You know Alfonse. You were right about me and my take on “nakedness”. I guess we are on the same page now about desire too. To us, Desire comes from love. That is what makes you and your body especial to me. I fell in love with your sharp mind and your heart first, but also thanks to your “efforts” I can understand and appreciate how special a lover’s body is. You made me understand, that what I feel for you is true love, not just infatuation or lust. Thank you. We can wait if that is your wish…if not…I will not say ‘no’ to that to be honest. I leave it to your discretion…But Alfonse, next time you go “exploring” , I want you to know, I can always lend you a hand. ;)

                                     ~*~

  I write this on the day of Devotion. Alfonse and I had another talk and at the end, we decided to wait. Alfonse’s position is a little difficult, and now even more so after his father’s death. His personality makes me forget he is royalty, but the weight of his crown is a lot. He has more responsibilities and images to uphold. I want to think we have time to enjoy each other’s company, hearts and mind before we rush things any way.

 Well, I have to go, my family (Yes they are my family now) is waiting for me. Sharena informed me there is a huge surprise for me. Well, Anna did owed me some favors and she designed the costumes for the Royal family.I can’t wait see Alfonse! I hear he is wearing sandals XD Wink, wink!

 PS: Wait! I just realized something! Lif was actually spying on us!?

[ranhaitanisgf]

;; 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖈𝖍𝖊

otherwise read as: scaramouche is stupidly soft for you

--

❧ masterlist

As it would seem, being acquainted with Harbingers from the Fatui always brought about interesting events, and more times than naught, these events would come about to ruin whatever plans you had for the rest of the day, not that you exactly minded most of the time.

"What a bold subordinate you are, I wonder what exactly your intentions are..." You pondered thoughtfully.

"Just shut up and be quiet, your constant mumbling is givin' me a damn headache!" Typical Fatui Skirmishers, and especially typical of those gifted Cryo suits by the Tsaritsa. They all looked and acted exactly the same; you found it quite interesting how they seemed all be so similar.

"Oh~? And eating an entire Sweet Madame in two bites doesn't give a headache or at least a stomachache?" You answered back. (If you guys don't know one of the Cryo skirmishers idle's is literally eating like an entire sweet madame or something like pls sir what are you doing-)

He grumbled something under his breath and tightened the rope around your arms and neck, trying to constrict your breath.

"Wow, kinky~ I didn't know the Fatui were like- oh fuck..." A sharp pain to the side of your head promptly shut you up, and you clenched your eye as blood started to drip down from where the Skirmisher had hit you with his heavy armor.

"God, your mouth almost makes this not worth it, your stupid friend better show up so I can become a Harbinger already!" You rolled your eyes at his words, instead quite pissed off now that you had a pounding headache.

"And your stupidity almost makes up for the headache you've given me. You're not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?" Before he could respond, you froze the rope on your hands and easily broke it off, along with the rope around your neck. In a flash, the Skirmisher was pinned on the ground, your foot on his neck.

"One would think that you would research somebody and study them before kidnapping them, wouldn't you think? Research is one of the most important things when studying a target, but you wouldn't know anything about that." The terrified look on his face made you think twice; while you did enjoy researching and studying people, this man would serve no use to you, although it would be a little enjoyable to scare him.

A deadly aura suddenly surrounded you, malice in your eyes as you stared at him.

"̸̡̹̻͉͕̈́͂̆ͅĮ̷̠̺̥̠͎̦̭̿̉́̄l̴͓̮̲͈͔̻̜͉̙̠̋͘͠l̶̛͍͙̍͗̍̿̏̒͋̑̕ ̴̈́̋̓̅̋͊l̶̥̳͓͔̣̪͆͆͌̚ë̷͒̽̍̍̃͝t̶͈͇̫̘̮̀̽̎ ̷̙̺̺͎̮̳͉̅̅ͅy̶̢̧̹͓̺̬̹͔̤̽̉̋̊͗ͅo̷̧̭̞͑̈́u̴͈̜̻̯̦̓͆̈͗̉̏̈́̂̊̚ ̵̝̟͕̬̟̍̎̚ǵ̶̫͚̮̣̭̥̣̯̎͆̎̀ô̵͓͎̓͊̈́̈́͗̽͘͝ ̶̛͚̼̤̲̙̑͑̔̀͑t̵̙̦̻̔̽ḩ̸̪̟̽̑̋͝i̵͖̗̠̭̓̃̃̇̐s̷̨̮̞͓͕̦̭͓̘̓̏̉͑̈́̚ ̵̧̛̤̮̭̫͖̹͖̖̗̃̓̓̉̅̏̌̕͝ẗ̷̡͈̜̯̗͙̘͕̐̈́͗̑̔̀̾̀̄ͅḯ̵̱̝̰̽ͅm̷̢̮͉͔̞͖͕̦̅́̃͐͘ẽ̴̼̣̄̓̔͒͑̾͜,̴͈̲͎͍̹̏̇̀̀̔͌̍́͑͝ ̶̨̛͔̞̳̞̝̞̈́͗́͗̄ͅb̷̼̤͍̖͎̗̭̎́û̴̦͚̹̞͎̜̰̿̅͌t̸̼̪̍̀͆͌̿̏̇̀̚ ̶̡̨͚͙̞͓̯̞̰̌̾̏́͐͑̓͛̄̕n̴̡͖͎̐̈́e̸̖̹̯͂x̴͈̀̄̊̓̽̉̆̚͘t̶̝̺̠̺̲̗̽̃͂̅̉͑̆͘ ̶̥̮̝̿͘͜ͅt̷̤̯͎͚̍i̵̩̬͇̱͓̫̇̽̃́͐͂͊́͜͜͝ͅm̷̩͕̦͒ę̸̧̡̺̤̥̯̗͈͌͆͝ ̷̧̼̜͈̭̂̏̋ý̷̨͎̪͙͚̫̘̳̳͌̃͌̾͝ͅȏ̴̫̟͍́͐̉͘͝u̴̡͔̳̿͋ͅ ̵͔̥̮̤͗̾ͅm̵̪̟̳̞̯̭͖̿͗̀́ę̷̢̛͇̫͈̦́̇̌̕s̷̨̬̘͈͓͓̫̺͔̀͗̽̍̕s̷͓̤̦̮̗͊̚ ̷̢̡͇͓̙̞̪̟͗̌̃̌̍̅̓̐͑͠w̶̡͈͚̺̩̘̬̲̼̙̐͛͋̚i̷̫͐̉͋̿̐̈͒͐̉̚ẗ̴͓͛̔̓̌̽̀̓͆͝h̸̢̡͍̝͈͉̝͂̈́̍ ̵̰̲̰̞͕͚̿̊͌͗͐͑̿̓̕̚m̸̛̺͔͕̣̰͐̈́̄̑̚ͅë̴͇̀̍͝͝͠ ̶̺͚̹̳̈̃̑̑͑͐́̆͘ͅi̸̫̤̤͓͖̹͐̇̿̾̆̅͛̔̕͝ͅš̷̺̠̟̭̹͋̚ ̵̣̊̀͐͊t̷̛̬͚͊̿͆́̑͆̒̚h̷͍͎̜̖̗̫̉̓̈́̈͐͊̈̔͘ͅe̸̠̔͆̇͌̐̾̿͊̓͝ ̶̛̪̣̠̬̹͈̉͌̆͝͝ͅl̸̖͉̩͉̤̰̞̗̋̀̏̊̑̄a̴̛͍̫̎͂̊̈́̒͗̇͠s̵̛̛̜͉̰̼̼̦̙̈́̑̍͌͐͝ͅţ̸͙̩́̍̑̾̍͋͊͘͝ ̶̡͕̯̙̬͗̈͛̔̕͝t̴̬͍͚̦͍͈͇͇̂̆̓̕i̸͍̥̫̝͔̘̅̿̉͜m̴̥͕̗̗̼͔͇̒́͒̃ĕ̷̘͛̚͝.̶̢̖̩͚͍̈́̆̔̍̾̕͝ ̵͙͓̣̝̔̌̏͘̕L̴̡̛̹̼̜̰̝͚̳͛̿͊̆̈̈́͜ë̶̪̋̉́̋̓̄̆͜͝a̵̟̙̎́̍̃̓̋͐̃̈́͠v̸̡̬̻̪̺͂̄̊̏͛͒̕͝͝ę̶̟̈́̽̃̈́̈́̂̾̄͝.̶̧̧̜̦̻͖̯̫̈́̿̐͒͊̇̐͋͗͜"̴̺̳͓̱̞̅̔͒͆̀̐̃

("I'll let you go this time, but next time you mess with me is the last time. Leave.")

A strangled scream left the man's throat as you lifted your foot off of him. He immediately started running as fast he could, and you watched until he had run off into the distance.

Sighing, you wiped off some of the blood on your head with your sleeve, wincing from the pounding that was a lot more prominent now.

"Goodness gracious, I'm so fuckin tired...haven't slept in six goddamn days, 'Can you do my commission for me?' 'Can you do this for me?' Holy fuck..." You walked over to a nearby tree and slumped against it, fatigue taking over your body. The sky was a nice blue, so at least there wasn't going to rain anytime soon.

"Blegh...still have to go meet up with Childe...go all the way to Liyue..."

"Didn't think I would find you in the middle of this dump of a camp."

"Huh? Oh..." As you looked up, you saw Scaramouche looking around the camp with a disgusted look on his face, before rolling his eyes and looking back at you.

"Is that really all you have to say to me?"

"Yes."

"..."

"..."

"Wait, why are you here? Thought you were supposed to be doing the fandango somewhe-"

"Do not finish that sentence." You looked up at Scaramouche, who had an extremely irritated face.

"Meh, you deserve it. After all, it was one of your subordinates who slowed down my day." Scaramouche scoffed at you, taking another glance at the now-abandoned Fatui camp.

You closed your eyes, determined to get some sleep before your meetup with Childe.

"What happened here? I thought my subordinates were cleaner than this,"

"Say that to your Cryo guys who eat an entire Sweet Madame in one bite, and also like to randomly knock out people when they're doing important things." You huffed, getting up and stretching your arms over your head, wincing again from the pounding in your head.

"Anyways, I better get going now, I have to go all the way to Liyue and meet up with Childe and whatnot, and also-"

"What happened to your head?" You glanced at Scaramouche, whose eyebrows were furrowed as he locked his eyes onto the slight bleeding on your temple.

"Huh? Oh, just a thing that happened when I was here, no biggie." Scaramouche didn't say anything in return, but instead walked over and turned your head to the side so he could get a better look. Your heart skipped a beat as you felt his fingers on your chin; it felt like electro was triggered when his skin touched yours.

"Er, Scara-"

"Shut up." His hand gently moved your hair, trying to get a better look at the wound.

"Seriously, I need to-"

"Didn't I say to shut up?" You bit your lip, nervous about his next moves, yet also slightly excited. After a moment of looking at the wound, he took a small square of gauze and taped it to your temple.

The alcohol burned, making you wince a bit, but what was more interesting was Scaramouche's sudden behavior, but you were too tired to look into it further.

The feeling of his fingers slightly in your hair caused you to close your eyes for a brief moment from your fatigue, though you quickly opened them once you realized what you were doing.

"Are you tired?" You moved your head back to look at him, not realizing he was so close; close enough in fact that you were just under his hat, the brim bumping the crown of your head. His purple eyes pierced yours, telling you to answer the question. A slight flush filled your cheeks, but he didn't seem to be moving anytime soon.

"I guess so, I've been really busy for the past week, but I still need to get to Liyue by tonight because I'm meeting up with Childe and Zhongli for dinner to discuss some stuff about the Rite of Parting and the Qixing, and apart of the whole Qixing talk I bet the adepti will be brought up, as well as some research about starconches and cor lapis, oh and also- ah, nevermind, I'm rambling." You awkwardly smiled at him as he stared at you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"You really are an idiot. I can tell you haven't slept for a couple of days, have you been doing other people's commissions, or perhaps it's more research? You're too nice sometimes." He stepped back, his hand pressing to his forehead in a frustrated manner before looking back at you with a slightly annoyed look on his face.

"You even let that scum go, even though he betrayed direct orders from me. Archons...you're so dumb," He sighed, looking at you with a softer look.

"Okay cool, is that all? I kind of need to leave now." You stared blankly at him, struggling to keep your eyes open, and barely managing to keep them half-open, although your other struggle was trying to get away so you could relax and not have your heart beating so quickly.

"(Y/N), you're so fatigued you can't even keep your eyes open, I can see it from here. Just- ugh, just stop doing so many things for other people at the cost of your own health."

"Mhm..." You leaned back against the tree, your eyes closed as you tried to listen to the rest of his words.

He suddenly stopped talking, which made you curious, but not curious enough to open your eyes; the relief from closing them felt amazing.

Yet all of a sudden, you felt a presence in front of you, and a hand behind your head, which suddenly pushed your head forward onto something warm.

"You're such an idiot." You felt a bright blush fill your cheeks, and your heart started beating extremely fast, though when you listened closely, you could hear another heart beating just as fast. His chin rested on the top of your head, holding you close to him as his other arm slid around your waist.

"Stop calling me an idiot."

"Whatever, just...sleep. You don't have to go and meet with Childe." You raised your head slightly to look at him, but he pushed your head back down into his chest, (possibly because he didn't want you to see him blushing 0///0)

"Why not?"

"I told him you couldn't make it,"

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter why,"

"Yes, it does-"

"Stop asking questions, I'm taking you back,"

"Back where?"

"Goth Grand Hotel,"

"Mm..." After a moment or two, Scaramouche pulled away, and you huffed from the sunlight that was now in your eyes.

"Scaramouche..." Before you knew it, his hands slid under your legs and under your back, and he was carrying you.

"Huh-!?"

"Shut up! Just sleep!" He scoffed, turning his head to the side. An idea popped into your head, and before you could really think it over...

"Scaramouche,"

"What." He slightly turned his head to look at you, a furious blush all over his face.

Your hand went behind his neck, just under where his hat started to cover the back of his head and pushed him towards you, but stopped right before your lips touched.

"Your turn~" You sleepily said, a lazy smile on your face. Without hesitating, Scaramouche pushed his lips onto yours, locking your lips in a firm kiss.

The electro between your lips was dazzling, and your heart was on overdrive at this point, although it sadly ended after a few moments when you pulled away.

You immediately passed out, your fatigue winning you over.

"What an idiot."

~~

[newswcanonprompts]

Skywalkers are immortal eldritch fucks (there’s so many ways this can go)

1. How does being half-force affect Anakin as a force ghost

Anakin... wasn't properly dead. just a bit too present, a bit too lively, and that if only someone pulled hard enough on the veil, he could be made to bleed again.

Anakin just keeps coming back to life, And so do Luke and Leia when they die.

"You've done it, you've killed Anakin fucking Skywalker. Wait, why is he standing behind you? Where's his body gone? Oh fuck, what is that expression? Oh no!"

This happens to Vader and terrifies the f*ck out of literally everyone

the man is the son of the Force, yes? how could he "become one with it" if he basically already was part of it? or at least, made of it?

It'd be either kinda horrifying or basically a regenerate-your-limbs get out of jail free card

Anakin turns up in Luke's temple one day, like "hey turns out I can't die"

Luke is just happy to have a Dad

imagine the backlash if that little factoid ever went public. "What do you mean Darth Vader can't die???"

"You mean he's alive right now????"

Obi-Wan realising he can't have a peaceful retirement in the afterlife because Anakin's apparently immortal now

Anakin starts trying to figure out how to make Obi wan immortal too

Ahsoka is so confused at everything

"You look a lot like the Hero with No Fear from the Clone Wars. Are you his grandson or something?" 

"Nope, I am him." 

"Freaking weird Jedi and their not aging."

 2. how terrifying it would have been if during the Dooku fight in AOTC his arm just regrew the moment it was cut off

3. them realizing this during the clone wars: CHECKMATE BITCHES

imagine the propaganda if there was a General who literally couldn't die

the Seperatists wouldn't know which way was up anymore

Anakin realised he had this sort of ability during the clone wars it would be hilarious to see him just throwing himself at things

he could protect his men better

Imagine how distressing it would be for a shiny to just see their general die and then come back seconds later

And Rex being like "Yep, the general does that."

just rubbing his eyes. and being completely done

Imagine the bitching sessions with Cody "At least yours resurrects! Mine just runs off without his kriffing lightsaber and armor all the time!"

clone boys have a heart attack whenever their general just decides to regrow limbs

rex faints the first time he sees anakin's arm grow back.

instead of the whole "my general keeps losing his lightsaber" it becomes "my general keeps losing his arm"

"My general keeps dying."

"Oh, how many have you been assigned to now?"

"No, no, he gets better again afterwards."

the 501st never tell the shinies that their general is immortal because the vets like to fuck around like that

it's kind of a right of passage for shinies to almost have a heart attack when the general comes back from the dead

Anakin is basically just the "if all else fails" option at that point because no matter what happens to him, he will be back at the temple annoying the hell out of everyone before dinner time

Anakin gets mortally wounded and is like "Well, I'll see you in five."

Droids: * shoot Anakin *

 * Anakin: * dies * 

Anakin, 5 minutes later in the middle of a crowd of droids: SURPRISE BITCHES!! * Murders them all *

Anakin dying to Dooku at the end of Attack of the Clones and then coming back and Dooku just being like "Fuck this shit I'm out."

him coming back and chasing dooku with his arm

Imagine the moment they find out Anakin can come back from the dead:

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan just sobbing their hearts out and then suddenly he's behind them like "Hey, bold of you to presume I'm mortal."

He pulls a Percy Jackson, and walks into his funeral.

mace windu utters a quiet "are you fucking kidding me"

next time anakin dies, his funeral includes a "welcome home anakin" banner

Mace stops letting the Yoda Lineage have funerals because they don't stay dead

They keep having funerals for Anakin just as an excuse to have a party

what if politicians don't know this. like the first time he dies during the war, and all the diplomats are there. Except Padme. She knows all and is just there to see the chaos.

They're usually private funerals, so they can keep inviting new people to screw with

"general skywalker just died"

"senator he's right here"

"i saw him die protecting me right before my eyes"

"senator do you need the healers?"

Obi-Wan, just watched Anakin go splat at the bottom of a ravine:

“ANAKIN!!”

Anakin, popping back into the mortal coil just behind him: “Yeah? What's up?”

obi-wan finding out about a Anakins thing and keeping it a secret,

so one day anakin dies and the whole council is like, mourning

obi-wan is just rolling his eyes and saying “it’s fine he’ll be back”

everyone thinks obi-wans having a mental breakdown

but then anakin walks into his funeral with a cup of caf and sunglasses and flashes everyone a peace sign

All of Yoda’s lineage (except dooku) and padme know.

"can you guys not cover me in white next time? it's pretty boring"

"can i get, like, glitter? is that a thing? make it a thing"

Skywalkers can also breath in space.

They just don’t have to breathe. 

4. THE FORCE IS A PROACTIVE PARENT IN THIS (AND AGENDER) (THEY/THEM PRONOUNS)

during the time it takes for him to resurrect, the force and anakin talked.

Bc that's the only time he could talk with a tangible parent.

he learns about palps that way

one time Anakin dies twice in one day

turns out the ability has a bit of a cooldown time so everyone's just panicking a bit because he should be back by now

then he appears like three days later

Obi-Wan's like "You bastard."

"Gotta keep you on your toes."

Really his parent just wanted some more time with him, and who was he to refuse?

a cracky! anakin basically having annual dinners with The Force because of how often he dies in the clone wars

in this verse the clone wars was created so Anakin & his parent The Force can have family dinners

Mortis, but instead of All That Nonsense, it's just a nice episode of meet the parent

padme dies, and then at her funeral she comes back, but force sensitive.

force sensitive, immortal, padme amidala. The seppies are going DOWN

The Force wills Padme to die because The Force wants to meet their daughter in law

It does this for basically everyone Anakin cares about

sometimes anakin and padme just drop dead, and wake up a few hours later bc they had a family dinner to get to.

"I'm going to kill you" is suddenly the literal way for Anakin to say "I love you"

Anakin dies on Mandalore and Satine witnesses it and she's horrified and doesn't know what to tell Obi-Wan but then she sees Obi-Wan talking to Anakin and she's so confused

So if anakin kills you and you’re someone he cares about you come back to life immortal.

Death By Skywalker basically being a way of becoming immortal is gonna fuck with the war so much

when Palpatine tells Anakin to kill all the jedi he thinks Palpatine is telling him to invite all the jedi to his Force Family Dinner

One day the entire Jedi temple just dies all at once, and comes back a couple hours later, to the confusion of literally everyone (including the Jedi)

yoda is frequently killed to spend time with the force because after 900 years the two of them are tight as fuck

Anakin doesn’t have attachment issues in this bc hey, people die all the time! :)

He also ends up being worshipped as a demigod.

More Angsty version of this: young anakin kills palps bc he thinks he'll resurrect, but then the tangible form of the force appears and explains that he was the sith master.

Palpatine would probably actually try to get Anakin to kill him, because hey! Free immortality! Don't mind if i do!

5. Imagine if this was something he discovered as a little kid. Anakin going off to visit Qui-Gon in the force and Obi-Wan wondering what eldritch beast he has ended up with as a padawan

"Anakin what are you doing?"

"I'm making master Qui-Gon a friendship bracelet?"

"...master qui gon?"

"yeah! i gave one to my parent yesterday and master qui-gon said he wanted one too!"

"Your parent? when exactly was this yesterday?"

anakin being a convoy for dead masters and their old padawans like Weed Dad qui gon jinn and his Struggling Son obi wan

anakin has two parents

Parent and Mom

[contemplativepancakes]

what I'm afraid to say

another train fic! (warning for canon typical violence)

five times geralt tries to tell jaskier he loves him, + one time he does

part one | next

Geralt drums his fingers on the inn table, thinking about the contract he pulled from the notice board earlier. He looks over the brim of his mug of ale at Jaskier crooning in the middle of the room, and he tries to ignore the funny things it's doing to his heart.

He wonders if he should get that looked at.

Geralt sighs as he drops his mental facade; at the very least, he always tries to be honest with himself. He thinks... he thinks he might love Jaskier, despite everything, or maybe because of it. So many people in his life are connected to him by fate, by something that's too big for Geralt to fathom and impossible to ignore, but Jaskier—isn't.

He's stuck around because he wanted to, for whatever godsforsaken reason, even when there's times Geralt wonders why he puts up with it.

Geralt thinks maybe....he ought to finally say something to Jaskier. Geralt's not sure what exactly Jaskier gets out of trailing after him, so maybe it's possible Jaskier feels the same way?

Geralt shakes his head. He's a mutant; no human is ever going to be deluded enough to love him.

Geralt downs the rest of his ale in a single gulp.

-

The next day, Geralt walks all over town, trying to flesh out whatever monster he's dealing with. Eventually, he decides it must be a cockatrice, and he heads back to the inn to tell Jaskier.

“Of course,” Jaskier sighs, tapping his fingernails on the table. “Leave me here while you deal with all the excitement.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls in warning. “I'm sure you can find someone else to pester for the evening.”

“A pest? Me?” Jaskier asks indignantly.

“Yes, you. I'll see you later, okay?”

Jaskier huffs before giving Geralt his most winning smile. “What if I go with you?”

“I mean it. Stay here,” Geralt says, trying not to think about the ways Jaskier might try to occupy himself without Geralt there.

“Come on, Geralt, who's going to protect me from the cuckolded husbands?”

Geralt sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Jaskier is bound to get in trouble if Geralt leaves him alone. “Fine. But you're staying with Roach.”

Jaskier hops up with a grin, clapping his hands together.

Geralt checks his potion inventory one last time before hefting his bag onto his shoulder. He makes his way out to Roach and pats a hand down her snout, letting his fingers linger over the velvety fur of her nose. She snuffs at him, searching for a treat, and Geralt quirks a grin before he opens up his saddle bags to retrieve a sugar cube.

Jaskier moves up from behind him to give Roach a pat down her flank. She tolerates the touch instead of nipping at him, so Geralt will take that as a good omen.

Geralt helps Jaskier into the saddle before swinging up behind him, trying not to think about the warmth of Jaskier's back pressed to his chest too hard. Geralt digs his heels into Roach's side, and she starts off at a steady trot. The motion makes Jaskier bump into him maddeningly often, and Geralt clenches his jaw in his attempt to not react.

Not soon enough, they arrive at what appears to be the cockatrice's territory, if the gouges in the tree bark is any indication.

Geralt scrambles down from Roach and gathers his supplies from her saddlebag, downing some Cat so he can see more easily in the rapidly fading light.

“Be safe,” Jaskier says, an odd expression on his face.

Geralt looks down at the back of his hand, and he sees the tinge of his veins already turning a little black, and he flushes with shame at what Jaskier must think of him.

“You be good,” Geralt counters gruffly, turning away before Jaskier's opinion of him sinks any lower.

He pulls his silver sword out of its sheath and follows the trail until he reaches a cave that looks like some place a cockatrice would settle. He looks up and sees a rocky outcrop on top of the hill the cave is nestled into.

He climbs up and hauls himself over the ledge and immediately sees a large nest. Fuck. A protective monster mother is never something he likes to deal with.

He looks around, but he doesn't see any signs of the cockatrice. He casts a quick look at Jaskier, tucked away into the treeline and leaning against Roach.

There's two tiny cockatrices in the nest and two more eggs. Geralt brings his sword back, but he hesitates. Even if they're monsters, they're too small to be the culprits of the farmer's woe who had hired him.

Geralt whirls around as he hears Jaskier cry out for him. He looks up and curses as he sees the mother speeding back to the nest. Sure enough, there's a cow clutched in her claws.

Geralt raises his sword, but the monster changes its path from Geralt to Jaskier, and Geralt's brain quits working for a second. Geralt shouts, trying to attract her attention back to him, but it doesn't work; the cockatrice drops the cow and flies towards Jaskier. Jaskier tries to run, but she scoops him up instead, digging her claws into his soft flesh. Geralt can see blood blooming on Jaskier’s white shirt, and he clenches his jaw helplessly. Jaskier stabs the cockatrice’s foot, making her screech and drop him to the ground. Jaskier moans faintly, crumpled in a heap as he brings his hands to press against his torso.

“Jaskier!” Geralt shouts, voice hoarse as he tries to be heard over the din of the cockatrice's wings beating.

Jaskier should have been nowhere near here; this was a terrible idea and all Geralt's fault. He never should have let Jaskier come, and at the very least he should have insisted he wait at least a mile away, but he didn't, and now—

Everything in him calls for him to go to Jaskier and make sure he's okay, but neither of them is going to make it out of here if he doesn't deal with the cockatrice first. She's rushing back at Geralt now that Jaskier is on the ground, and Geralt shifts his grip on the hilt of his sword.

A male appears over the tree line, and any remaining sympathy Geralt had for the little ones flees as cold dread takes its place.

He spares one last look at Jaskier and hefts his sword, charging at the female and rolling out of the way as she spits poison at him. He comes out of his dodge in a crouch, and he leaps out of the way as the cockatrice's pointed tail swings around at him. He dances around it, all too aware that each second he spends doing this is one more second that Jaskier could be bleeding out, could be dying for all he knows, until, finally, he manages to get behind the beast and skewer his sword through her spinal column. He pulls his blade out quickly, hardly registering the viscera splattering on him.

Geralt wants to take a moment to breathe, but the male is rapidly advancing on him. Geralt glances over at Jaskier, taking heart in the fact that he at least has had the presence of mind to put a hand over his side to try and quell the bleeding, but a pool of blood is growing much too quickly for Geralt's peace of mind.

In the moment he's distracted, the cockatrice lunges forward at him and scrapes a claw down his chest, slicing through the armor and grazing his skin. The wounds are shallow and knit themselves back together quickly, but Geralt feels the poison seeping into his system and slowing him down. He needs to end this sooner rather than later.

Geralt squeezes his eyes shut for a second before feinting to the left and then lunging to the right. The cockatrice takes the bait and leaves his right side unguarded, leaving an opening for Geralt to plunge his sword just under the monster's rib cage and angle it up to the heart.

The cockatrice lets out a terrible screech that makes Geralt want to clap his hands over his ears, and the monsters still in the nest start screeching back. The high pitched noise grating on his nerves, exacerbated by his potions increasing his sensitivity.

The cockatrice shudders again, and Geralt rips his sword out, hot blood gushing out after it. In the thrashing, the coackatrice's tail comes from behind Geralt and sweeps him off his feet, knocking him onto his ass with a huff of breath.

The cockatrice stills, and Geralt scrambles back to his feet. He directs a blast of igni at the nest, taking a moment to feel sorry as the babies scream and the smell of burning flesh fills his nostrils. It's enough to make him nauseous, to feel just as monstrous as what he just killed, but he has Jaskier to worry about; he has to go.

He scrambles down from the hill and sprints back to Jaskier, dropping to his knees by Jaskier's side as he tries to catch his breath. He pushes Jaskier's hands out of the way, assessing the damage and letting out a sigh of relief when it doesn't look like it's too deep.

Oxidized blood covers Jaskier's hands, and Geralt tries to calm his already churning stomach. “You're going to be fine,” he murmurs, cursing himself for not having any bandages.

He tears off Jaskier's damaged doublet and rips it in half, wishing Jaskier wasn't so out of it that he doesn't even chastise Geralt for ruining it. He wraps it tightly around Jaskier's side.

When he's finished, he looks down at the blood covering his hands, at what's wormed its way under his nails that he's going to have to scrub to clean.

Jaskier stirs then, stretching and looking up at Geralt.

Geralt thinks back to his thoughts from the day before, the way he had wanted to finally tell Jaskier he loved him. He looks back at Jaskier and the question on his face, but he can't help but notice how pale his skin is and the shaky breaths. This is what happens when Geralt gets close to someone.

He bites his tongue.

-

next part will be up tomorrow and linked here!

[adhduck]

Oh Well, I Guess We’re Gonna Pretend

AO3

(Major spoilers for rqg 207)

Wilde is at a party with all his loved ones, and everything in his life is finally falling into place.

He’s also unconscious on the floor of the world’s last safehouse, and something is coming for him.

--

“Come on, Oscar, dance with us.”

Wilde blinks, realizes Hamid is standing in front of him with his hand outstretched; probably a symbolic gesture, considering he’d be hard-pressed to pull someone double his height.

Smiling, Wilde sets his half-empty champagne flute on the table. “Of course. Care to join, Zolf?”

Zolf, who’s slouching in the next seat with his long, worn coat tucked around him in a fabulous display of I am not a party person, scoffs fondly. “Absolutely not. ‘Sides, it’s yer party, Wilde, not mine.”

“It’s our party,” Wilde says with mock offense, putting a hand on his chest. “Didn’t you hear my toast?”

“Half of it, maybe.”

Wilde rolls his eyes, but relents and squeezes Zolf’s shoulder; presses down a smile when Zolf catches his hand for a second and pats it. “I’ll get you to have fun one day, Zolf, mark my words.” He’s rewarded with a gruff little mumble, and then Hamid tugs on his coattail to pull him away.

[Cel is still reeling from the shock of electricity when they see it. It’s large, with a body that could be humanoid if not for the oversized head, how its body seems not to take up space but distort it. If not for the six-foot swords it has instead of arms.

Instinct kicking in, Cel pulls two bombs from their pockets and throws them in rapid succession. Even with their hands trembling a little – they always do, the first few moments of combat – Cel know each one is perfectly weighted and near perfectly aimed.

The creature doesn’t even flinch.

It only takes a moment to process what that means – limited bombs, a 5% chance of hitting at best, almost a third of their own health taken in one hit – before Cel abandons the idea of attacking and reaches instead for Hamid. He’s desperately light, clothes singed and hissing; as Cel pulls him to their chest, he curls instinctively into the touch.

“Hang on, little buddy,” they whisper, trying fiercely to sound sure. “You just keep dreaming for now; I’ll keep you safe.”

They just need to get him through the door.]

There are a few people dancing, but the clear stars are Azu and Kiko—partly due to Azu’s shimmering, lightly glowing pink gown, but mostly because of the dance itself. It’s a bright, lively partner dance Wilde hasn’t seen before, where they pull in and out of each other’s embrace with twirls and dips and lots of laughter. It looks equally exhausting and exhilarating.

Azu notices him mid-spin and brightens immediately, waving him over. “Kiko, you mind if I show Wilde the ropes?”

Kiko grins and gracefully steps back, half-bowing in the process. “Yeah, sure. Long as I can watch.”

So Azu works Wilde through the steps, out of sync with the music at first to get them right, then faster as he gains confidence, and soon they, too, are spinning and laughing. “You,” Wilde says when they pause to catch their breath, adjusting the frill around his neck, “are an excellent dance partner, Azu.”

Azu preens a little. “Oh, thank you! Though I doubt I’ve got much competition, knowing Zolf.”

Chuckling, Wilde glances at the man in question to find him looking back, chin in hand and a fond smile tugging at his mouth—for a moment, at least, before he darts his eyes away with flushing cheeks. Wilde’s heart sings.

[Azu looks sharply between her friends – half of them unconscious, all of them wounded – and the advancing creature. It seems completely unconcerned by the weapons being pulled as it wades into the fray, dodging a heavy swing from Zolf without even acknowledging him. The swords protruding from its shoulders are almost as long as she is tall.

We can’t win this, Azu realizes. Not while it’s this strong. Pressing a hand to her chest, where her pendant rests safely beneath the armor, she calls to her goddess with words of love and protection and rage. The divine energy builds in her chest, bringing the dull glow of her armor to a bright shine; she throws her hand outwards, flinging the energy with it in all directions, and there—at last, the creature hesitates. It stops as suddenly as if caught in a rockslide, making a noise halfway between a groan of pain and the grinding of stuck gears, and Azu starts to feel hopeful.

Then, it raises its blade.]

Azu catches the movement and smiles conspiratorially. “You know, there are gardens out back that are much quieter than in here.”

”Ah, but you forget,” Wilde replies, putting on his best performer voice. “That just guarantees Sasha will be there, hidden amongst the foliage, waiting to strike.”

Giggling a little, Azu says, “The worst you’ll get from her is some rumors about you and Zolf that are actually true.”

Wilde gasps in (mostly) faux horror. “Don’t even say that.”

Azu laughs for real now, a full and surprised thing, and pushes his shoulder lightly. “Go spend time with him, the party will survive without you a while.” Wilde pouts a little at that, and she tips her head toward Hamid; he’s dancing with complete abandon a few feet away, wings half-unfurled and arms raised high in the air as he spins. Already, a few people have been pulled into his orbit, letting their awkward shuffling loosen into something more inelegant, more natural. “We’ve got it covered. Now go, before you start having deadlines again.”

“To be fair, we have an entire holiday between now and then,” Wilde argues—a bit superfluously, considering he’s already moving away.

Zolf greets Wilde’s approach by sitting up in his chair, eyebrows furrowed and hands raised defensively. “If you try to get me to dance, Wilde, I swear to gods—”

“Already learned my lesson with that one, darling.” Zolf’s ears go a little pink, and Wilde is powerless against the urge to lean into it. “Of course, there are plenty of dances we haven’t tried together—”

“Oh, sod off,” Zolf says, kicking Wilde lightly in the shin; his ears are red, though, so he’s already lost the fight.

[Augusta makes no noise as she’s stabbed through the heart; dead before the pain had a chance to wake her. It’s a mercy, perhaps, but one Cel refuses to let happen to anyone else.

The creature shifts, pulling back its bloodied weapon with Hamid as the clear target, and Cel lunges towards the door, clutching Hamid fiercely against them—and is stopped cold as the creature pierces right through Hamid’s chest.

Like Augusta, Hamid doesn’t cry out when he’s stabbed. He doesn’t move, either; not even when the blade is yanked back out with just force it nearly tugs him from Cel’s arms. Panting, they gather him back against their chest, whatever miniscule safety that might entail, and feel for a pulse. It’s there, thank gods, but only just. He might only have seconds left, and there’s nothing they can do.

At the corner of Hamid’s mouth, Cel can see a smile – the kind he might give during the opening toast of a party, now just the shadow of some wonderful dream – and they do not cry, because what fucking good would that do?]

Just to seal the deal, Wilde drops to his knees in front of Zolf’s chair, bringing them almost eye to eye, and flashes his shiniest grin as he teases, “Don’t worry, I know you love it.” He allows a few seconds for Zolf to huff and pointedly not answer, feeling his chest radiate with warmth, then adds, “Anyway, want to get out of here?”

Zolf’s eyebrows raise, then quickly furrow. “What’re you- that was an awful transition line, ya know. Unless you’re tryna seduce me or somethin’, in which case, why.”

“I’m always trying to seduce you, Zolf, it just never works,” Wilde replies easily. “That’s why I enjoy it so much. And anyway, that’s not what I was asking about. There’s apparently a garden out back, and I thought you might want to take a walk with me.”

“Ain’t you got allergies?”

“It’ll be quiet out there. Poetic.”

Zolf considers for a second, looking Wilde over with a slowly forming smile he’s definitely not conscious of, and for a moment there’s nothing else Wilde wants more than this: kneeling in front of the man he loves, basking in his quiet attention, knowing there’s exciting work ahead and time enough to rest before it comes.

[Zolf spins around, ready to level another attack – he hasn’t hit the thing yet, but maybe if he aims a little lower, forces it to turn for him instead – when he sees the blade sliding out of Hamid’s chest. No. Absolutely not. Without checking it’s clear, he rushes forward, dropping the glaive to his side and redirecting that power into the tips of his fingers. He licks his thumb, presses it firmly to Hamid’s forehead, and, with a low note of please humming in the back of his chest, mutters words of hope and determination into the staticky air.

The wound heals almost immediately, closing like a budding flower in reverse to leave a raised, slightly jagged line of scar tissue; the only proof of how close Hamid was to death. His wings flutter, trying to unfurl in the confines of Cel’s arms, and for a moment, he stirs. Zolf and Cel both breathe out in relief, but by the time he opens his eyes, the poison overcomes him again, and he curls back into Cel’s chest with a contented sound, asleep and completely unaware of the danger around him.

Not exactly what I had in mind, Zolf thinks, but there’s no sharpness to it. The poison in the air was strong enough to knock out people twice Hamid’s size, so he can’t imagine how strong it must be on him. And besides: this might not be a fight where all of them – any of them – get out alive. Can he really blame Hamid for wanting to dream instead?]

“All right, Wilde,” Zolf says at last. “Let’s go for a walk.”

The gardens aren’t particularly large, but they use the space well—bright flowers lining the walkway, bushes and trees bunched together to create the illusion of depth and privacy. Beneath the largest tree, there’s a clear spot where the light filters through like sparkles and the roots breach the soil in just the right way to make a sort of alcove.

It’s exactly the sort of place Wilde would’ve yearned to write poetry in as a teenager, so of course he tugs Zolf over to sit down.

“Thought this was a walk,” Zolf says, eyebrows raised, but makes no argument when Wilde lays down with his head in Zolf’s  lap. His fingers quickly find their way into Wilde’s hair, untangling it little by little, and Wilde can’t stop himself from pushing into the touch with a little hum. Thankfully, Zolf just chuckles, scratching lightly at Wilde’s scalp for a moment before continuing.

There’s silence for a few moments, and Wilde idly searches for a pun he can use to fill it; it’s difficult to focus, though, when Zolf is gathering his hair into sections for a braid, those careful fingers brushing occasionally against his temple, his neck, his jaw.

Finally, what Wilde settles for is: “I hope we’re actually allowed out here. I’d hate to go home early because Grizzop took a swing at me again.”

Zolf snorts. “Don’t tempt me. I’ve always wished I had seen that in person.”

“Some partner you are,” Wilde grumbles, trying not to melt when Zolf tucks a few shorter strands of hair behind his ear. “S’posed to defend me, not join the enemy.”

[Zolf does a rapid once-over of Cel to make sure they’re not injured as well. They’re panting and wide-eyed and definitely only not in shock because there’s not time for it, but seem physically all right, which is about as much as he can hope for right now.

He glances to the door of the lab, where Ada and Skraak also seem to be managing okay—and, importantly, where there’s clean air and a door between them and the monster. Grabbing Cel’s arm, Zolf injects as much authority in his voice as he can and orders, “Get in there, close the door, be safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he sets his glaive on fire and turns back to the fight. They might not all make it out of here – always a risk, in this line of work – but he’ll still do his damndest to make sure at least some of them do.]

There’s no response, save for a suppressed smile and the continuous back-and-forth motion of Zolf’s steady hands. Wilde basks in it for a moment, getting to lay quietly in the grass without even his allergies interrupting them. It brings to mind when he was a child, rolling down muddy hills with his sister and seeing how long the world tiled after they reached the bottom, dazed and laughing.

“She would have loved this party,” he says, brushing a hand through the barely damp grass at his hip. “Isola, I mean.”

“You could’ve brought her, you know,” Zolf replies. “I could’ve- I dunno, watched her, or somethin’. Not like I was doing much anyway.”

Wilde laughs. “She would be terrified of you.”

[Moving has already proven dangerous, so Cel shifts Hamid in their arms and throws him through the door; once he’s safely inside, they swallow their alchemical allocation and pull a previously untouched potion from their jacket. Dragon’s breath—the one they’d been so excited to get after seeing a glimpse of Hamid’s power; the one they’d chattered back and forth about days or maybe months ago, excited to see when Cel might try it out.

“Not leaving you,” Cel says firmly to Zolf’s back, and chugs the potion. Lightning crackles in their body once again, except this time, it feels powerful instead of painful. This time, Cel is going to be helpful instead of helpless. Whatever it takes.]

Zolf snorts. “Oh, so that’s why I haven’t met her yet.”

“Yes, I’m just absolutely terrified you’ll smite her with all your holy rage,” Wilde deadpans, twisting obediently when Zolf taps the side of his head. “Or gods forbid, convert her to hope.”

“Oi,” Zolf says, tugging lightly on Wilde’s hair. “That hope has saved your arse twenty times by now.”

[Azu catches sight of Hamid breathing and nearly crumples with relief. He’s not dead, she didn’t kill him, she might not have to lose someone else—but there’s not time for that, not yet. They have to destroy this thing first, before it hurts anyone else.

She swings her axe as hard as she can, a scream building in her throat as it moans through the air, and – miraculously – it connects. There’s a satisfying thunk, a sharp note of pain; but as she goes to hit it again, it seems not just to dodge, but actively unform and reform around her axe. Learning. Adapting.

In the second it takes for Azu to regain her footing, the monster sinks one of its blades into Sumutnyerl’s chest. The air seems to freeze for a moment, but the strike is lower than it intended, in the stomach rather than the heart, so maybe it isn’t fatal, but Azu doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.]

Humming noncommittally, Wilde turns his head to look at Zolf, and when he sees the concentration in Zolf’s summer sky eyes, he’s pierced all over again with the force of how much he loves this man—and how much he, in return, is loved. Gods, Zolf is smiling the way he only ever does for a Campbell, and he’s braiding Wilde’s hair as if it’s the most important work his hands have been tasked with, and he looks so utterly, brilliantly happy that Wilde can hardly stand it.

“You alive in there?” Zolf says, tapping him lightly on the cheek.

[There is only one person left unharmed, the horror of the situation made almost a farce by Wilde’s oversized neck ruff and glittering cape. Almost, but not quite, because when the creature turns – body shifting in and out of focus, sword-like arms dripping with the blood of every other being in this corridor – it turns for him.]

Wilde smiles, catching Zolf’s hand before he can pull away. “Yeah,” he murmurs, stupidly fond with it, and rests his lips against Zolf’s knuckles. Zolf’s breath hitches, staring with undisguised awe and quickly reddening cheeks, and Wilde can’t even look at him, he’s so happy. He ducks his head, pushing it against their joined hands; feels Zolf’s warm callouses all the way into his bones. “Thanks to you.”

[There is only one person left.]

“Wilde,” Zolf breathes; a prayer, a promise. Lips press clumsily to his hair, brush his temple as they soak in each other’s presence. “You saved me, too, ya know. So- so many times. I need you, yeah? And I- it- gods, I’m horrible at this, but I just, you’re

[Zolf sees it, this time, when Wilde dies. Sees the sword pierce his chest – right in the heart, a perfect shot – and yank back out with almost careless indifference before the creature turns and does the same thing to Sumutnyerl.

Even dead, Wilde manages to look artistic. His ridiculous cape is flung out beneath him, one arm draped above his head, the barest trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He’d been this way after the crash, too, impaled almost a foot off the ground with his limbs dangling and chin flung up to the sky; the perfect semblance of a martyr being raised into heaven. Had he been unconscious then, too? Zolf thinks. Or did he feel the spike go all the way through his chest before he succumbed from the pain?

Doesn’t matter. Zolf had time to mourn when he saved Wilde then; he doesn’t have time now.

Skraak and Ada both attack, but Zolf doesn’t know if the hits land, refuses to process anything that isn’t Wilde and the mere seconds left before he’s gone for good. He throws himself forward, landing hard on his knees beside Wilde’s head, and starts to pray. The magic builds like strong drink in his throat, and he clumsily wipes the blood from Wilde’s mouth as the spell reaches its peak—and is nearly knocked over as the monster deals a crushing blow to his temple.

His vision goes briefly white, blood already dripping down his cheek and jaw, and the magic begins to fizzle away, but he refuses, he refuses. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Zolf presses a hand firmly to the desecration of Wilde’s chest, cradles his cheek with the other. He’s still warm with hope, and Zolf channels that into his prayer, pressing their foreheads together in a way that might’ve been painful, had Wilde been awake to feel it.

Please, he begs the power inside him; begs anyone who’ll listen. Please. Let this be enough to bring him back to me.

The magic bubbles inside Zolf once more, sparkling and bright and warm, and there’s no way to know, really, if it’s enough. It doesn’t matter, of course, because he doesn’t need to know. Because when he presses his mouth to Wilde’s, stroking his cheek and breathing every last ounce of that vital energy into his body, Zolf has hope.

And there, where Zolf’s fingers curl tenderly against Wilde’s neck, new and weak but steady all the same—a pulse.]

 The first thing Wilde registers is breath on his face, warmth in his throat—then pain, all over his body but especially in his chest, gods, what happened? He opens his eyes, hoping to regain his bearings; Zolf is there, face mere inches away from his own, which is a nice start.

Realizing he’s awake, Zolf pulls away, fingertips brushing against Wilde’s cheek as he goes. His other hand is pressed firmly to Wilde’s chest, and there’s blood running freely from a wound at his temple. He looks about to cry.

If Wilde didn’t feel unmoored before, he certainly does now. “Zolf- wh- what-”

In lieu of an answer, Zolf pulls Wilde to his feet. There are flashes of movement to the side, none of which Wilde is capable of processing yet; Zolf grabs his arm, which is easier. He looks resolved, in that urgent way he used to get just before leaving on solo missions; Wilde has just enough time to be scared about that before Zolf pulls him close and says, “Get the others out and be safe.”

Wilde opens his mouth in question, but Zolf’s already shoving him away. He stumbles backwards a few steps, more out of shock than actual force, before losing his balance and landing hard on his elbows just inside the lab. His neck snaps back a little, making his vision swim, but he blinks hard to clear it and now, now, he sees it all. The creature. The dead. The ones left standing.

For just a moment, Wilde catches sight of Zolf’s face before he turns away. His eyes nearly glow, lips parted around gritted teeth, and there is rage in his features like Wilde has never seen before. Then he raises his burning glaive, this idiotic man that Wilde loves so unbearably much, and growls, “Right. It’s yer turn now.”