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alizha · 1 month ago

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𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒃𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒔 | 𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝑻𝒂𝒗 | 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟐

Rating: M Word Count: 8.7k (whoops) Tags: female bard tav, tav is not described, angst, sibling relationships, sexual tension, kissing, neck kissing, references to canon-typical violence, mentions of tiefling racism, abuse (physical), minor character death (offscreen), blow job, outdoor sex, semi-public sex

Summary: Rolan has only ever had Cal and Lia. They insist he’s family, but he doesn’t even need that. He’s never needed or wanted anything more.

previous chapter | masterlist | cross posted to ao3

Rolan should have known how quickly gossip spread around the inn. It takes all of seemingly a half a day for the news to reach Cal and Lia.

“You dog!” Cal says.

His brother takes a running jump over to where Rolan is sitting at the bar and lands with his hands on his shoulders. It knocks the wind out of him a little. Rolan lets out a strained cough.

“I knew you two were acting weird,” Lia says, dropping one elbow onto the bar and jabbing an accusing finger in his face.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Rolan,” Cal says, wiping a pretend tear from his eye. “But you’ve finally met someone who managed to take the stick out of your ass.”

Rolan swats away Lia’s hand. “Oh, shove it, you two.”

“Let me have a moment, at least! I thought you were going to be alone forever,” she says, resting her chin cheekily in her palm.

“And I might still be,” Rolan tells her grimly.

Cal gasps dramatically. “What? Was it that bad?”

“What are you on about, you dope? Mystra save me, all I did was kiss her.”

“That’s not how I heard it. I heard from someone who heard it from Bex that you were practically on top of her.”

He and Lia stare at their brother, horrified.

“Gross, Cal! Urgh! I much prefer remaining blissfully unaware that Rolan even knows what sex is.”

She smacks Cal lightly, spurring on a bout of playful roughhousing between them. Quickly, though, they join forces and turn their poking toward Rolan. He buries his face in his arms on the table, desperately hoping his siblings don’t notice his blush.

“Rolan! Your ears are red!”

❖ ❖ ❖

He doesn’t see her again until after the shadow curse is broken, and even then, it’s only for a brief moment. The land was still enveloped in darkness, but everyone could feel a change had happened. As had become typical, no one bothered to explain to them or any of the other refugees what the hells was going on exactly.

Naturally, Rolan’s concern turned toward Tav. It seemed likely that whatever was going on, it’d been set into motion by her. Within the hour, the Harpers have mobilised and Jaheira is on her way to Moonrise.

“It’s the shadow curse,” Cal says. “Do you think they broke it?”

“We’re not taking any chances,” Lia says sharply. “We’re staying our arses right here until someone officially tells us it’s clear out there.”

Rolan agrees with a short hum. “It could still be dangerous.”

“But Rolan,” Cal gives him a worried look. “Your apprenticeship. We’ll barely make it as it is. If we wait any longer…”

He shakes his head firmly. Risking their lives again for his sake—Rolan won’t hear of it, apprenticeship be damned.

Just then, the doors to the inn crash open. Rolan feels like he’s been struck by lightning. Tav. She’s alive, although she looks just about spent. She hurries over to them with Halsin at her side, her other companions probably waiting somewhere just outside.

“Jaheira,” she pants, leaning slightly over with her hands on her knees.

“She took the Harpers to Moonrise,” Lia offers, jumping up. “You can catch them if you go now.”

“Right,” Halsin says with a grateful nod. “Tav.”

She holds up a hand, apparently needing another second to gather herself. When she does, she straightens with a groan.

“We’ll send someone as soon as the curse is gone,” she says, still breathless. “And once it is, you have to leave straight away, so be ready.”

Rolan’s stomach lurches. “What?”

“Your apprenticeship. You can’t be late. What would the great Lorroakan say?”

“You idiot,” he says, shaking his head. She’s about to dive headfirst into another battle at Moonrise looking like the undead, and she’s concerned about his apprenticeship.

“We’ll be ready,” Cal assures her for him.

Rolan almost wants to scold some sense into the both of them but stops when he sees Tav’s heavy smile.

“You’re gonna do great. I expect it’ll be a bit before we make it to the city ourselves.”

It feels like something is hanging in the air between them and simultaneously pressing against his throat. The spark of annoyance that runs through his head at that moment is laced with an equal amount of amusement. If she wants to ask him to meet her in Baldur’s Gate, she ought to just come right out and say it.

“Tav,” Halsin says again, taking an expectant step toward the exit.

“Coming,” she says. “Good luck, you three.”

She takes off at the same time as the druid. At the last second, Rolan shoves down the knot in his throat and shouts at her.

“Good luck, Tav! You’ll know where to find me!”

He’s not sure, but he thinks he sees the skin of her temples flush a little pink.

❖ ❖ ❖

Rolan is ready for a lot of things when he finally reaches Baldur’s Gate. Curses being thrown at him, dirty looks, uncomfortable stares from children.

Mutters of ‘foulblood’ don’t hurt him. They never have.

What he wasn’t expecting was having to leave Cal and Lia in Rivington. His letter declaring his apprenticeship is a little crumpled and stained from everything it had to endure in the corner of his pack while they were on the road. Still, it’s enough to get him past the guard at Wyrm’s Crossing. Not so for his siblings.

After everything they’ve been through. After getting right back on the road after the shadow curse broke and splitting off from the other refugees headed for Moonrise. Rolan whirls on the head guard, ready to argue, but Cal hurriedly motions for him to drop the issue.

“It’s okay, Rolan! We’ll be fine!”

“I’ll sort this out with Lorroakan,” he promises them, fists clenched at his sides.

“Go!” Lia says, making a shooing gesture. “I’ll take care of Cal!”

He takes another moment to just look at them fondly before taking off. The fortress looms high above him as he crosses the grand bridge to the city proper. He’ll make sure they’re together again soon, no matter what it takes.

❖ ❖ ❖

Ever since he was a young child, Rolan’s always been a good student. He was self-motivated, hard-working, prone to reading everything he could get his hands on. Everything a wizard’s apprentice should be, really. All he has to do is prove it to Lorroakan.

He’s admired the man from afar for years. The distance from every fantastical thing that happened to him on the road from Elturel overhauls his focus. His only goal is to become a great mage and protect his family. It always has been.

His days are spent tending to the shop—to familiarise himself with the magical items, his master tells him. And his nights are spent maintaining the tower. There’s plenty to do. Mountains and mountains of scrolls and tomes and potions that seem to have been piling up with very little semblance of organisation.

It’s all rather tedious work, but Lorroakan always seems to have his reasons for the tasks he sets him on. Eventually, he’ll start on proper lessons and research and the like. Rolan figures everything has a purpose. He’s managed to get Cal and Lia into a hostel somewhere in the city, and that seems good enough for now. He doesn't want to overreach.

The latest of his trials is cataloguing the alchemy ingredients in the tower’s lab. Even though he doesn’t want to seem greedy, he misses his family. His island is fractured, and he feels afloat—at sea without Cal and Lia.

So, Rolan forces himself to work through his exhaustion and manages to finish the cataloguing ahead of schedule. Feeling triumphant, he ascends the tower in search of Lorroakan, hoping his master will be amenable to discussing the subject of finally bringing his family to the tower.

The master of Ramazith’s Tower liked to spend most of his time on the top floor. Purportedly, he was always occupied with conducting his research, though today, he appears to be entertaining a guest. A waifish elf woman in a dress of deep sapphire that dips past her sternum.

He’s always found this room beautiful. The sunlight streaming in through the high windows illumines the specks of dust swirling around specks of blue light scattered below the vaulted ceiling. It reminds him of the Emerald Grove, in a way.

“Master Lorroakan,” he greets the mage with a respectful bow.

Immediately, the displeasure stamped on the mage’s face makes Rolan uneasy. Lorroakan, lounging on a throne of tomes, whispers something to his visitor seated at his feet. She nods and scurries off, and Rolan doesn’t want to make assumptions, but he supposes a man who never leaves his tower must have certain services transported in.

“What is it, boy? You’re supposed to be working on the elixirs. I won’t tolerate laziness in a student.”

“No, of course,” Rolan says quickly as he gets up and stalks toward him. “It was alchemy ingredients, actually, and I’ve just finished with that—,”

Lorroakan cuts him off with a string of tuts, shaking one finger at him. “That’s not possible. If you were doing the work right, you would still be occupied.”

A pit of worry opens its maw in Rolan’s stomach. He hadn’t even considered that his haste might dissatisfy a man as thorough as Lorroakan. A shameful oversight on his part.

“I don’t want to find out that you made a bunch of idiotic mistakes just to finish the work faster.”

“Yes, Master Lorroakan. I will double check my work. But while I’m here, I was wondering if we could discuss getting my brother and sister moved into the tower—,”

Thwack.

Rolan reels, then stands frozen. His vision, blurred for a second, refocuses on the expression of pure venom on his master’s face. There’s a stinging pain right above his cheekbone, pulsating with heat. He reaches up shakily but is too afraid to touch it.

“Back talk,” Lorroakan spits. “I will not have it. You will not ‘double check’ your work, tiefling, you will do it over. From the beginning.”

He can’t speak or move. Rolan stays rooted to the spot until long after his master has swept out of the room.

Whatever it takes.

The quizzing starts that night. Lorroakan throws him question after question, the likes of which entirely flabbergast him. Rolan pores over his repository of autodidactic knowledge, amassed over years of self-study, but he can never seem to find the right answers. And for each answer his master deems deficient, he raises his hand to him again.

He lies in his tiny cot afterward, unable to sleep. Thinking about Cal and Lia makes his chest ache more, and his thoughts constantly wander to Tav. Where she might be right now, what she might be doing.

He thinks about his unfounded suspicion of her back when they first met at the grove. He imagined she was perhaps a spy, or that she could be working for the goblins’ leaders, or even that she was trying to get between him and his family.

The truth, of course, is that the only one getting between Rolan and his siblings is himself. If he’d been strong enough back in the shadow-cursed lands, he could have prevented the cultists from taking them. If he was strong enough to prove himself to Lorroakan now, he would have them here at his side. He needs to toughen up if he’s ever going to become a great wizard. And he needs to do it before Tav inevitably shows up in Baldur’s Gate.

She wouldn’t understand. Wouldn’t understand the lengths he’d go to, or that he’s admired Lorroakan for years, or that even though he isn’t an adventurer like her, beneath the velvet and the silver plate, Rolan knows something of survival.She’d take one look at him and see a damsel in need of rescue again.

Cal and Lia might not be in Ramazith’s Tower, but they’re in the city, sheltered and fed, and he’d done that. A long held oath to the woman he took far too long to rightly consider his mother. Lia always liked to think of herself as the mother hen. She’d wiped their noses and chased off bullies for them countless times, true enough. But it was Rolan who made that promise at the end.

❖ ❖ ❖

The rumours are true. The group of adventurers who had caused a stir at Archduke Gortash’s ceremony was Tav’s. It’s only natural that as the tremors and street killings plaguing the city go on the rise that she would soon follow.

Rolan doesn’t see them enter the shop until they’re at the counter. He’s not given enough thought to what he would say to her. The moment he realises the woman standing before him is Tav, all his breath seems to vacate his body.

“Tav.”

She looks to be in a much better state than she’d been in last time he saw her. Clean, not as tired, even her clothes and armour have improved. An odd feeling washes over him. A feeling like the Tav he knew on the road to the city was different from the one here now.

“Rolan.” Her brow is furrowed. “What happened to your face?”

His dismissive response comes quick and rehearsed. He’s had to repeat it a number of times to Tolna and a handful of shop regulars.

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

The residual pain from the cuts on his cheek and across the bridge of his nose are like background noise to him now. He barely gives them a second thought. But Tav has an uncanny way of seeing right through him.

She’s done so ever since the grove. One look at him was all she needed back then to know he was to be pitied. A miserable excuse of a man who didn’t even have the conviction to get his family to Baldur’s Gate alone or stay and fight of his own accord.

“But never mind that. What are you doing here?” he says in the cheeriest tone he can manage without it sounding entirely out of place coming from him.

Her frown deepens, and Rolan holds himself steady. After everything he and his siblings have been through, after they held him up through the years when he surely would have fallen without them, after they sacrificed their own comfort to get him to his apprenticeship on time—

“I have business with Lorroakan,” Tav says. Her words are clipped. He wonders if she knows he’s lying and is angry with him. It doesn’t matter.

“What is it regarding?” he asks, readopting an air of professionalism.

“The Nightsong.”

“Ah, you too? Seems all I deal with these days are adventurers inquiring about the Nightsong,” Rolan sighs. “All the information you need is on those pamphlets. You’re welcome to them, of course.”

He points to the neat stack he spent much of his precious time in respite folding, sitting on the desk near the entrance to the shop. Tav doesn’t bother following the line of his finger. Instead, she bites at the inside of her lip, hesitating.

“No, I mean I have the Nightsong. She’s in our room at the Elfsong right now,” she says.

An awed scoff escapes his mouth. If he had to bank on a group of adventurers to actually find the thing, it’d be done, he supposes. But her choice of words sticks in his head peculiarly.

“You must be mistaken. The Nightsong is an ancient relic.”

Her lips press together into a thin line. At first, he thinks she’s going to argue with him, but apparently she decides against it. After a moment, Rolan appends his reply.

“But if you have relevant information, I’m sure Master Lorroakan will want to see you. Head upstairs. You’ll find the way to his tower up there.”

Tav nods once and goes to take a step toward the stairs before pausing and turning to him again. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

He’d expect to find her persistent concern irritating, but it somehow worms its way into his heart and spreads warmth through his chest. Rolan crushes the feeling into a ball and banishes it.

“I’m fine.”

She nods again, stiffly, and leaves after that. Rolan watches her disappear up the staircase with her companions and, confoundingly, almost wishes she had planted her hands on her hips and demanded he come clean. But he recognises the idiocy of that—he’d been the one who insisted it was of no concern to her.

Maybe, he just figured that with her dogged penchant for inserting herself into other people’s matters, she would find a way to force the truth out of him. That would have been unfair, though. In the handful of times she’s intervened in his life since he’s known her, she hasn’t forced him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

He waits, tending to the counter with seemingly every muscle tensed and eyes darting over to the stairs far too often. When he finally glimpses movement there, Rolan turns and pretends to be busy. Coward, he admonishes himself as he nonsensically moves scrolls from one stack to another. He’ll just have to rearrange them later.

“Rolan,” Tav calls. He should have known that wasn’t going to work.

“Yes?” he says, straightening and facing her.

She’s leaning over the counter on her forearms and gestures with one hand for him to come closer. Rolan eyes her friends as he approaches—Karlach, Gale, and Astarion are bunched together near the door and speaking in hushed tones to each other.

“Is something going on?” he asks.

“Do you get any time off?”

He blinks at her. Suddenly, his heartbeat is in his throat. Is she going to ask him to come out with her somewhere? Alone?

“You should try to stay out of the tower tonight, if you can,” Tav continues. “And make sure Cal and Lia are with you.”

“Cal and Lia—,” he chokes off his words at the end. She raises a questioning eyebrow at him, but he clears his throat and changes trajectory. “Why are you saying this?”

“Just trust me. I have a feeling it won’t be good to get yourself in the crossfire of what’s coming.”

The pained expression on her face escalates his concern. Rolan grips the edge of the counter. “What’s coming, Tav?”

“Please, Rolan.”

She reaches for his hand, and the scratch of her calluses on his skin is just as electrifying as the first time. The tenderness she uses when she gives his fingers a light squeeze muddles his desire to demand a straight answer.

He sets his jaw and doesn’t respond. Tav understands his silence as the dissent it is and withdraws her hand. And then, in a blink, she’s gone again.

❖ ❖ ❖

As nightmarish as the shadow-cursed lands were, it all felt like a dream looking back now. Especially in those last few days when Rolan deluded himself into thinking Tav could ever be anything more than a fleeting whim. The craving of an appetite he never thought he harboured and never expected to awaken.

Ships passing in the night.

What did he think she would have done if he’d told her the whole of his situation? Would she have marched right back up to the top of Ramazith’s Tower? Barged in on Lorroakan and sent him off the edge of the wrap-around balcony herself?

Maybe, she would watch him get smaller and smaller and disappear through the misty clouds surrounding the tower before turning around and striding back inside, backlit by the sun. Order her companions to leave. Wait until they were gone to scream at him. Call him a prat of the highest degree for getting himself into this mess. And then, he would silence her with a bruising kiss.

Wait. Where is his mind taking him? Lorroakan is in the foulest mood he’s ever seen him in, and Rolan reminds himself to stay focused if he doesn’t want to endure a particularly brutal lesson later. And that aside, he’s not sure if he could face Tav again if he continues down this line of thought.

She’d been trying to warn him of something earlier that day in the shop, but he wishes she could have just been frank with him. He thinks that perhaps if Cal and Lia really were staying in the tower with him the way Tav assumed, he might have tried harder to listen to her. But as it is, some sinister combination of shame and fear prevents him from shirking his duties even for one evening.

The woman appears seemingly out of nowhere. There’s no characteristic whoosh of the portal to Sorcerous Sundries, and the enchantments on the doors haven’t been disturbed. Just a strong rustle of feathers, and then she’s there, standing in front of Lorroakan when Rolan looks up.

“What have we here? A magician in a tower, hiding away from the frightening world.”

Her armour is brilliant silver with accents of pale gold, and in the light of the sun low in the sky, her hair and skin almost seem to meld with the hues of it. Rolan glances at his master, but Lorroakan is calm, face twisted in signature arrogance. The portal whirs softly. Tav steps out a moment later, along with the same friends that had accompanied her before.

Her eyes immediately snap to his. She’s chagrined he’s there, but she’s not surprised. The presence of Tav and her party do nothing to shake his master’s confident mask.

“What are you so scared of, magus? Not the Nightsong, surely. Why, she is nothing but a relic to be purchased and pursued.”

Rolan throat feels like it’s sinking into his belly as Tav’s words echo in his head. “My gods. The Nightsong is a person,” he breathes. “Master Lorroakan—,”

The mage cuts him off with a drawl. “There you are, my dear. At last.”

He catches himself recoiling from nothing more than a simple slight. What is the matter with him? Hatred threads sharply between his ribs, constricting his chest. Hatred directed at Lorroakan, yes, but also himself.

“You will address me with due deference,” the woman—the Nightsong—intones. “I am Dame Aylin. And you are a whelp without honour, without pride with nothing but a tower full of trinkets.”

“My apologies, Dame Aylin.” Lorroakan’s affability is transparently condescending. “I meant no disrespect. I asked our mutual friend here to make an introduction that I might get to meet the famed daughter of Selûne.”

The deliberate look and sly smile on his face when he turns to Tav makes Rolan’s stomach roil. Lorroakan holds out a hand in a welcoming gesture.

“Perhaps, my friend, you could help bridge the gap?”

“I came here to watch Aylin rip you to shreds,” Tav says without missing a beat.

Her words strike Rolan through like an arrow. This was why she had been reluctant to divulge the details of her plans. He’d spent so long singing Lorroakan’s praises. He should have realised she was uncertain of how this would affect him, having to choose between her and his idol.

What she didn’t know was that his resolve has already been steadily slipping. It was unthinkable that the ‘relic’ Lorroakan had been searching for all this time was a real, living person. By the time he outlines his plans to cage her for her immortality, Rolan’s at his breaking point.

“You know, a man named Ketheric Thorm already tried stealing Aylin’s immortality,” Tav says. “He’s dead now.”

She flickers her gaze briefly to Rolan. A signal. She wants him to back off, to run before things get ugly. There’s no chance he’s going to flee. Lorroakan is his problem to deal with as much as he is hers.

“Pity. You could have reaped the rewards of my good favour,” Lorroakan tuts. His face quickly contorts in scorn as he turns to Rolan. “Boy! At the ready. Once I’ve taken control of the aasimar, she must go directly into the caging runes.”

“No, Master Lorroakan,” he says, making a conscious effort to meet his withering gaze. “I would never have assisted you if I knew you planned such horrors.”

“Watch your tongue, you child! I could make it such that no wizard in the realm will touch you!”

Lorroakan’s face has turned an even more impressive shade of red than him. Rolan glares down his nose at this man who suddenly seemed very small and wretched indeed.

“If they’re all like you, I think that sounds like an excellent bargain.”

❖ ❖ ❖

In the end, the bastard got what he deserved. Neither Rolan nor Tav get the pleasure of dealing the killing blow. That honour goes to Dame Aylin with a blow that rattles the bookshelves, and Rolan supposes that’s poetic enough.

The moment Lorroakan’s body hits the ground, he staggers back and braces the railing. Combat magic is exhausting, he feels drained to his core. How does Tav do this multiple times in one day?

“Are you alright?” she asks him. That question again.

“Better now,” he says. And it’s the truth, despite the tremor in his legs and the smell of singed cloth coming off his robes.

He lets her help him to the ground and sits leaning against the cold metal. There’s a new scar on her neck right above the high collar of her leather armour that he hasn’t noticed before. It wasn’t there the last time he was close enough to her to notice such things. Probably from an errant arrow that happened to just miss her.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” Tav says, moving aside the burnt fabric of his sleeve. “Astarion said he’s seen enough beatings to know someone was knocking you around.”

Rolan hisses involuntarily as some of the tatters brush against his angry burn, and Tav’s fingers jump a little, startled. She slows her movements, careful not to make the same mistake again.

“It was him,” he says bitterly, glaring at his former master’s corpse cooling on the red carpet.

“Then, I only wish we could kill him again,” she says.

She holds her hand over his wound and whistles a soft tune. The blue light of her healing magic evokes the scent of pepper and florals and instantly soothes his skin. He’s amazed by her.

“Combat magic and healing,” Rolan says. “Is there no end to your flaunting?”

Tav scoffs, but she can’t hide her amusement. “Me? What about you?”

“I didn’t do anything special,” he says as she draws back to let him readjust his sleeve. The velvet is ruined, but maybe he can find something better to replace it now.

“Rolan,” she says, frowning. “You were incredible. I’ve never seen a Magic Missile with such concentrated force.”

She’s flattering him, indulging him again, like at the celebration before they left the grove. It isn’t necessary.

“It’s rudimentary. Common spells any novice wizard would know.”

“That’s not—,” she shakes her head staunchly. “You’re not formally trained, are you?”

“No. I had to rely on myself mainly. But what does that have to do with this?”

Tav’s gaze slides over to Gale’s for a moment. The others have gathered themselves and appear ready to take off to wherever their next heroic appointment is taking place. Gale makes a small gesture with his head to indicate that they should get moving.

“Nevermind. Will you be alright here on your own?”

“The tower has considerable defences. And I won’t be alone. I’ll move Cal and Lia in immediately. They’re going to love it,” he says.

She grins. “All hail Rolan, master of Ramazith’s Tower.”

He likes the sound of that better than he should admit.

❖ ❖ ❖

The books disappear from the tower’s vaults that night. It’s too much of a coincidence for it to not have been Tav’s doing. Lorroakan might have been too incompetent to upkeep his vast inventory of tomes, but there were measures put in place in case of thieves.

Rolan isn’t in a hurry to track down the books and find out why Tav has taken them. He’s been too busy with securing his ownership of the tower and moving his family in to bother. And besides, it’s likely she has her reasons.

Getting away from the tower is difficult, to say the least. There’s a trove of knowledge in the vaults, clearly amassed by Lorroakan, that’s never been touched. Truly a waste, in Rolan’s eyes, to leave so much valuable magic gathering dust.

He sets himself to work, with his siblings’ help, learning everything he can about Ramazith’s Tower. Perhaps, he can’t fight at Tav’s side, but there’s still plenty for him to offer as the tower’s new master. They start in earnest after breakfast every morning, enjoying the serene quiet of the sun-drenched top floor—after an extensive cleaning, of course. Rolan feels like he’s in his element again.

“Wonder when Tav’ll drop by,” Lia says, carrying a new stack of books to the desk and flanked by a couple piles of more books hovering at her sides.

He’d tell her she doesn’t need to bother with the heavy lifting at all if he thought she would actually listen to him. She plops her cargo off with a grunt as the magicked stacks line themselves up neatly on the ground, then dusts off her palms.

“She said she’d come visit, didn’t she, Rolan?” Cal says from the armchair he’s been reclining on. The directory he was meant to be working on is lying open on the floor beside him, and he’s toying absently with his quill instead.

“Sometimes, I wonder why you insist on helping if you’re just going to loaf around instead,” Rolan says pointedly.

Cal pretends to scramble to straighten up and starts miming furiously writing on his hand. This draws a beleaguered sigh from Rolan.

“She… implied that she’d come back as soon as she could get away,” he admits.

“That could mean anything,” Lia says, dropping into a chair across from them. “That could mean after the bloody Absolute’s been dealt with.”

Rolan grunts. He’s come to pretty much the same conclusion already. And he doesn’t want to put too much stock into an unspoken promise, anyway.

“Yeah, she’s probably just busy with Absolute stuff,” Cal agrees, tapping his chin thoughtfully with the quill. “I’m sure she’s not avoiding you or anything, Rolan.”

“Grand,” Rolan says impassively, sending his brother a scathing look. “Not that I asked.”

Cal leans forward in his armchair abruptly, lifting one finger as if he just came up with the cleverest idea. “Why don’t you just go visit her? You know where she’s staying.”

“I don’t remember either of you being this enthusiastic about your respective romantic prospects,” Rolan mutters, indignant.

“Oh, come on, Rolan,” Lia says. “You know this is different. It’s like you don’t even want to see her.”

His temples are starting to pulse. Rolan puts down his own quill a little too roughly. “Different how?”

Lia blinks at him. “You’ve been through danger together, triumphed together!” She raises a fist theatrically. “Surely, you’ve come out the other end closer than ever.”

Rolan digs the heel of his palm into his eye and groans. “This isn’t some romance novel, Lia.”

He’s always believed his aversion to romance made him the most sensible of his siblings. Just because he and Tav defeated Lorroakan together doesn’t guarantee them a happily ever after.

“I have you two to think about, and now, an entire wizard’s tower and all the power and magic it has to offer,” he says. “And I haven’t even scratched the surface!”

Cal and Lia are staring at him. After a moment, they share a silent glance, and Lia gets off her chair to approach the desk. Rolan raises a suspicious eyebrow at her right before she gives him a hard flick to the back of his hand. He yelps, rubbing the stinging patch of skin.

“What the hells was that for?” he demands.

“Stop being a baby,” Lia snaps.

“You can’t use us as an excuse anymore,” Cal says, folding his arms across his chest. “Stop trying to shoulder everything yourself, Rolan. Ask us for help once in a while.”

Rolan knows he’s gaping, but he can’t seem to pull himself together. His brother’s words feel like a bucket of cold water poured over his head.

“Just because you say that doesn’t mean I’ll suddenly feel alright with it,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady.

Lia chuckles. “You stubborn dolt. We know.”

❖ ❖ ❖

Tav visits Sorcerous Sundries on a couple different occasions without heading up the stairs to take the portal up to the tower. Rolan knows because she interacts with his projection at the front counter. She sells off her junk, just like she used to back at the Emerald Grove, purchases elixirs and the odd scroll, then goes about her business. It’s all rather mundane.

Rolan wonders what right he has to intrude on her time when she has the fate of the Gate to worry about. He considers manning the shop himself on numerous occasions just for the chance that he might run into her on one of her shopping trips. But surely, he would come out disappointed when, inevitably, she would cut their meeting short to run off and play hero.

He reads the Gazette. Religiously. Trying to glean from the vague words what kinds of things Tav and her ragtag group might be up to. They’re hardly ever mentioned at all, and when they are, it’s not always in the best light.

Several nights after the talk he had with Cal and Lia, Rolan finally decides to make his way to the Elfsong. He invites them along, of course. Cal looks like his head is going to implode when Lia insists they stay and watch the tower for him while he’s gone.

His new robes aren’t far removed from the style of his old ones—Rolan’s tastes don’t skew quite as opulent as his former master’s. They do, however, make him feel a little out of place when he steps foot in the tavern. But no one in the boisterous crowd really pays him any mind. Until Karlach notices him.

The statuesque tiefling waves at him enthusiastically from across a few tables before urgently nudging Tav with her shoulder. Tav glances up to look at whatever Karlach is pointing at, and her eyes light up when they land on Rolan. His stomach does a somersault.

She mouths his name. Or she yells it, and he can’t hear over the crowd of other patrons. Regardless, she’s gesturing for him to come over, so he obliges, and she gets up to meet him halfway.

“It’s a bit loud in here,” Tav says close to his ear. “Would you come up to the roof with me?”

Rolan’s gaze snags on Karlach and the others sneaking interested peeks at them from their table, and he decides the roof is an excellent idea.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Alfira likes to practise up here during the day,” Tav tells him as she waits for him to climb the last few rungs of the ladder. “But it’s a nice place for quiet at night.”

Rolan follows her to the railing at the front of the tavern facing down onto the main street. She leans forward on her elbows against the rail and gazes at the passersby below.

“I spoke to Gale, by the way. He says it’s very likely because you were self-taught that your spells have slight variations. It’s fascinating.”

There she goes again, speaking at him like he was only a wall. Rolan steps into line with her but remains stick-straight.

“Oh, how are Cal and Lia? Is everything well with you all? And the shop?”

“Cal and Lia—,” he tries to start, but his throat closes off a little. “Tav, I came here for a reason. I need to speak to you.”

She twists and rests her cheek in her hand. “We are speaking.”

“No, you are. Do you ever let anyone else get a word in edgewise?” he snaps.

The corners of her lips curl up impishly, sending a pang of awareness through him. She deliberately set him up for a jab. Damn bard.

“Y-you—you,” Rolan pauses his sputtering and tries to take proper control of his tongue. “You are an exasperating woman.”

“You can do better than that,” she says with a pout. “What about gorgeous? Incredible?”

“Incredibly meddlesome,” he supplies.

She hums in contentment, eyes fluttering closed. “Keep going.”

The sound of her voice makes his stomach clench tight. Unlike him, she’s wearing her casual clothes, and the way she cranes her neck exposes the arrow scar in full view. Without fully thinking it through, Rolan reaches out to trace the line of scar tissue with his thumb. Tav shudders beneath his touch, eyes flying open.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says. “It’s maddening. I can hardly focus on Ramazith’s Tower because I’m always wondering where you are. If you’re alright.”

His voice breaks a little on the last sentence, and it’s humiliating. He can barely look at her.

“I was trying to give you some space,” Tav says softly. “You deserve time with your family.’

“How noble of you,” he says bitterly.

“I don’t have a family, Rolan. You’re so lucky, and so are Cal and Lia. I could tell from the beginning you were the most caring, devoted brother anyone could ask for.”

She brushes her cool fingers against the knuckles of the hand, making the stifling warmth blooming inside him even more pronounced.

“You stayed in the grove for them. You would have done anything for them,” she says almost reverently.

“That sounds like you. Your friends down there, they’re your family. You’re constantly putting yourself in harm’s way for them. I saw the way you threw yourself in front of Gale when we were fighting Lorroakan. You’re a bard, for gods’ sake. Let someone else do the protecting.”

“Who? You?” Tav grins. “I know you cast Mage Armour on me.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t so reckless. Honestly, is that how you always fight?”

Her brow lifts sceptically as she steps a little closer to him. “Do you really want to know?”

Rolan swallows thickly. He’s almost certain he does not, but her proximity is making it difficult for him to vocalise his response. Tav’s hand on his shifts, sliding up the length of his arm to wrap around the ribcage threatening to burst in his torso. The moment she presses herself against him, he forgets every argument he had for resisting.

“You deserve to be taken care of, too,” she whispers against his jaw. Humid breath ghosts against his skin like a caress, carrying echoed vibrations of arousal down to his core. “Let me take care of you.”

The protestations in his mouth crumble. All he can do is nod, and perhaps it’s a little too quickly and a little too needy, but Tav immediately gives him what he wants. Her free hand cups his cheek, dragging his lips to hers, and it’s everything Rolan wishes their first kiss had been. Slow, at first, working its way up to insistent, until his head is swimming like he’s been stuck to the bar at Last Light Inn for too long again.

Through the haze, he’s somewhat aware that there’s longing in the way she slides her tongue against his, and it seems so nonsensical to think that someone like her would want him half as much as he wants her. Tav, who draws people to her like a planet with her own gravitational pull. He should be wary of the ego boost that notion gives him.

Just as Rolan feels the dizziness start to set in from a lack of air, Tav drags her lips from his mouth up the line of his jaw. The warbling sound he releases when her hand glides down his chest and past his abdomen is embarrassing. He leans into her, finally finding control over his own limbs to adjust the hand on her neck around to her nape.

She’s agonisingly soft. He can’t remember the last time a girl even deigned to stand this close to him. And they had been girls, because he must have been young and fumbling and undoubtedly a disappointment.

Rolan doesn’t want to be a disappointment to Tav, but when she closes her hand around his clothed groin, he’s entirely too much at her mercy to do anything about it. His hips jerk forward entirely of their own accord, seeking more of the delicious friction of her palm. Every sensation in his body suddenly narrows to his swelling cock. He’s desperate to know how her hand, her lips, would feel around him without the obstacle of fabric.

Tav pulls her face from his neck just far enough to meet his gaze, and although he’s pretty sure she can’t hear the jumbled array of filthy thoughts running through his head, her eyes burn into his. Licking her swollen lips, she walks him back against the railing.

“Is this alright?” she asks.

It’s so far from alright that she looks so in control of herself while he’s a mess slumped against the rooftop railing of the Elfsong Tavern. The only worse thing Rolan can think of is stopping her now.

“Yes,” he gasps, fighting the urge to rut into her hand again.

His breaths tremble as she dips down, folding onto her knees. Gods, she can’t really be doing what he’d just been imagining. The anticipation as Tav pushes aside his robes and loosens the ties of his breeches threatens to push him over the edge of release right then and there. Rolan’s hand shoots out to grasp her by the shoulder.

“Is it too much?” She looks up at him, and the sight of her with her chin resting over the bulge between his legs is almost too much to handle.

“I just—I’ve never done this before,” Rolan huffs. “Or, no one’s ever done this for me, I suppose.”

Her eyes drip with such gentle adoration that his heart aches. “I can stop if you want,” she says, tracing a line up his thigh with the back of one finger. “But I don’t think you’ll want me to.”

Rolan doesn’t realise he’s holding his breath as she eases the hem of his breeches down to release the hard length of his cock. He doesn’t have any misgivings about this part of his anatomy, and the mildly pleased expression on Tav’s face confirms the merit of his confidence. Without wasting any more time, she wraps her fingers around the base, and Rolan finally inhales sharply.

Tymora’s luck. She’s going to make him convert if she keeps going.

“You can hold my hair back if you want a better view,” she says, and she doesn’t wink, but her tone of voice invokes one.

With a groan, Rolan releases the white-knuckle grip he has on the railing and sweeps her hair up off her neck.

“That’s it,” she murmurs approvingly. “That’s perfect, Rolan.”

Finally, finally, she leans forward and takes him into her mouth, tongue swiping a sinful line from the underside of the ridge surrounding the head up to the slit at the tip. Rolan instinctively fists the hand he has tangled in her hair, head falling back. The wet heat of her mouth is more alluring and spectacular than he could have ever expected.

Tav opens her jaw wider and moves further down his length, flattening her tongue against him. Rolan peeks down at her, looking for some indication that she might be enjoying herself as much as he is, and catches her eye—she’s watching him attentively, pupils lust-blown and hungry.

Even though he can feel the oversensitive tip of his cock butting up lightly against the sloping walls at the back of her mouth, he’s still only halfway in. She holds his gaze and swallows. Rolan lurches, the feeling of her throat constricting setting off flashes of white behind his eyes.

She’s going to kill him.

Strangled refrains of her name tumble from his lips. She starts moving again, carefully bobbing back and forth as her hands brace the backs of his thighs. It takes every last bit of Rolan’s self-restraint to keep himself from bucking into her with abandon. Instead, as mindfully as he can manage, he rocks ever so slightly in time with her pace, slowly rolling his cock deeper into her warmth.

“You’re—ah—you’re gorgeous. Incredible,” he murmurs, surprising himself with his own ability to recall any portion of their earlier conversation at all.

Tav moans around him, the noise inflating his chest with pride. As if in reward, she hollows her cheeks and sucks hard before swallowing again. Rolan can’t stop the jolt his hips give in response. He feels himself hit the back of her throat and startles when she gags.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, pulling back until he slides out from between her lips with a pop.

“It’s fine,” she says breathlessly, wiping moisture from the corner of her mouth. “Do you want to keep going?”

He’s already regretting the loss of her warmth, but Rolan lets her hair fall from his hand and takes her chin between his fingers.

“Let me return the favour, Tav,” he says. “Please.”

He needs to. His cock strains at the thought of his nose pressed against her clit as he plunges his tongue inside her.

“Don’t you ever just take, Rolan?” she says, turning her head to press a kiss to his palm.

If anyone had asked him back at the grove, he’d have staunchly asserted that he would never want anything from Tav except for her to leave him alone. That attitude holds tight to him, entwined around him like vines, because letting go of deep-rooted habits is an uphill battle.

“Please, tell me what you want,” he says as she leverages his arm to push herself up to her feet.

With what he could only describe as a wicked grin, Tav reassumes the spot she began in, leaning back this time with her elbows against the railing. “I want you to do that thing you did back at Last Light.”

Rolan’s heart is beating high in his throat as he closes in on her. Eagerly, she tilts her head to bare her neck to him, and his eyes land on that scar again just before he latches his lips to it. Tav reacts immediately with a soft hiss and throws one arm over his shoulder.

He’s hyperaware that his cock is still exposed. It aches, weeping for release, and he presses it almost unconsciously against her stomach. Despite her obvious attempts at keeping quiet, Tav releases a string of stifled moans as he opens his mouth against her skin and tests the feel of her scar against his tongue.

Her hand moves against his thigh, toying with something between their bodies. It’s only when she starts shoving that he realises she’d been working on the fasteners of her breeches. Rolan feels his insides twist up the moment his cock brushes against soft skin.

“I want to feel you,” she tells him, taking his length in her hand. “Do you want that too?”

Carefully, he scrapes his teeth against her skin and preens at the sigh it pulls from her lips. “Gods, yes.”

She doesn’t need him to repeat himself. His words are barely out of his mouth before she promptly hikes one leg up to his hip and presses the tip of him to where he needs to be. Rolan similarly doesn’t wish to deny her any longer. He leans forward and rocks into her with short thrusts.

Tav lets her lips fall open as she welcomes him, gripping tight to his arm until he’s fully seated and—rapture. Rolan tips toward and rests his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath. Before he can compose himself, she gives an experimental roll of her hips, and he sees stars. A familiar throbbing at the base of his spine that had been just out of reach draws his attention. And his panic.

“Stop, Tav, don’t—,”

She seems to understand and stills. “I want to watch you come undone,” she says, voice low.

Rolan glares into her eyes. It’s not fair that she’s just asking for things that are actually for his benefit. Too bad he doesn’t have the determination left to quibble about the semantics.

He tries to temper the firmness of his grip on her thigh as he starts to move in earnest with little regard for his impending release. She seems to respond to his confidence, contracting around with each thrust until she can’t keep up with his erratic rhythm anymore. At the last second, when he feels himself falling into the clutches of his orgasm, Rolan pitches forward to capture her lips with his and slam himself into her as deep as he can go.

Their muffled moans mingle together as he shudders against her, spilling his release into her. Tav moulds her mouth to his, cradling his shoulder blades as he comes down from his high. Once his panting slows just enough, she moves her lips, kissing him languorously and fondly.

“Are you alright, Rolan?”

That infernal question. He props himself up with his hands on either side of her. “Don’t I look alright? I should be the one asking you that considering…”

“Next time,” she says with a laugh. “Maybe, we could try indoors. Don’t want to make this a habit.”

So, she was expecting a next time. Rolan’s chest lifts a little from the elation. Love. What a pretty word for such a terrifying emotion.

❖ ❖ ❖

Rolan answers the call to High Hall the moment it comes. He’s been waiting for this, but he’s far from ready for it.

There are faces there he doesn’t recognise, and others that it feels like he hasn’t seen in ages. Zevlor, Dammon, even one of the refugee children whose name he doesn’t remember. Rolan can’t help feeling a little forlorn that he did not speak to them much on the road, but they each still greet him warmly when he shows up.

Tav and her friends are the last to arrive. They look like they’ve already been in the thick of it when the real battle’s hardly begun. Rolan has little to do with the strategizing—his only real job is to activate the cannons on Ramazith’s Tower when the signal is given. He hangs back as the others ready for the fight ahead.

It’s not long before Tav comes to find him. She pulls him wordlessly outside. The sky is thick with an oppressive cover of cloud. Sections of the city are on fire, chaos raining from above, but standing above it all here, with Tav gazing solemnly at it all, instils Rolan with a sorrowful sense of peace.

“When you need me out there,” he tells her, taking her hand in his, “you’ll have me.”

She looks into his eyes. Even in the dull orange light, Tav is radiant. “Thank you, Rolan.”

Her free hand comes to rest at his cheek as she lifts up for a kiss. His heart is on the verge of shattering from the anguish of her lips.

“Come back to me, Tav,” he murmurs against her mouth. “Come back to me. Please.”

“I will,” she says. “I’ll know where to find you.”

Rolan chuckles weakly and takes a deep breath. “I love you.”

There’s awe in her eyes as she pulls back to gaze at him. Full of renewed hope, she smiles. “I love you, too.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan x tav #mine #my writing

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echoingbirdsofprey · 27 days ago

Text

Lightning On My Lips (Every Time You Kiss Me)

22 - As Warm As A Glass Of Brandy

Pairing: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: mentions of smut but no dice sorry

A/N: Sorry this took so long I had a brain malfunction about it lol. Enjoy!

Tags: @gpsmississippihippie

Playlist

Tyler awoke, his hips screaming.

“I knew I was gonna be sore.” He mumbled, rolling to the side of the bed. He grabbed his phone and checked it. No new messages from Samantha about his brother. He was worried about Jake. He felt a hand at his back.

“Ty? You okay?” Georgia asked and he turned to face her, placing his hand on her stomach. He kissed her there and then trailed his lips up her body, making her blush and her skin heat rather quickly. “Yup you’re okay.” She laughed and when he reached her lips he took her chin in two fingers and held her there, his mouth covering hers with a neediness that wasn’t unusual for him, but there was certainly something on his mind.

“I’m worried about Jake.” He murmured into her shoulder. Georgia pulled him in closer, her arms wrapping around his head and neck. He settled there, taking a deep breath.

“I know you are. He’ll be okay. You have to believe that. Can I ask you something?” Her voice was soft by his ear and she nuzzled against him.

“Yeah, what is it, Peach?” He asked and she shifted slightly, guiding his chin up so that she could look into his sage green eyes.

“What’s your favorite memory of Jake? Tell me a little more about him.” She said and Tyler laid his head against her chest then, sighing heavily.

“Well...there’s a few that come to mind but one I guess that really stands out. R’member when I gave you your nickname?” Tyler asked, diving into his story as he ran his finger in circles over her exposed belly.

“Hey Arkansas.” Georgia said, smirking. Tyler glanced over Wilene’s painted back at her.

“Yes, Peach?” He asked.

“Where did you come up with that one?” She asked, continuing to run a brush over the mare’s shoulder and neck.

“Well, you’re a peach. Yur a nice girl, and you taste so sweet.” Tyler said with a wild grin.

“You’re naughty.” Georgia shook her head and threw the brush at him.

“Well, you started it. I’m just gonna finish it.” He caught the brush and walked around the mare, then picking Georgia up in his arms and twirling her.

“Yeah?” She giggled as she kissed him.

“You bet, Peach.” He chuckled and placed her back down on her feet.

“I do like the sound of that.” She said with a huge smile.

“Knew you would. What were you goin’ to ask?” Tyler said, leaning down to kiss her and pull her close again.

“Oh, uh...are you goin’ out with the guys tonight or...” She asked.

“What would you like me to do?” He asked, holding her tight.

“Well, whatever you want...” She said and his smile reached his eyes then.

“Well then, no, I’m not. I’d actually much prefer to hang out with you.” He said and then his phone vibrated. “Sorry, it’s Jake. Gotta answer.” He said and answered the phone and walked a few feet away.

“Hey, Jake, what’s up?” Tyler asked and he heard whooping and yelling on Jake’s end.

“Guess who the fuck just got into Top Gun!” He yelled and Tyler’s eyes widened.

“You did?” Tyler asked.

“You bet yur ass I did! And top of my fuckin’ graduatin’ class at the Naval Academy!” Jake’s voice was ecstatic as he spoke into the phone.

“I knew ya would Jake. I’m so proud of you, bro. You call Kenny yet?” Tyler asked.

“Nah, wanted to call you first, big bro. I’ll call Kenny in a bit. How’s the rodeo life treatin’’ ya?” Jake asked as his fellow pilots tried to get him to come back to the party they were having. There was a cute blond girl eyeing him at the end of the bar.

“It’s great, yup...I uh...I met someone, Jake. I think I love her too.” Tyler said and Jake chuckled.

“ Oh Tee. You fall too easy. Gotta keep that delicate heart of yours locked up a lil’ better .” Jake said, and nodded at the blond.

“What about you? You seein’ anyone?” Tyler asked.

“Nah. Just havin’ fun. I ain’t ready to settle yet. Girl’s gonna have to be real fuckin’ special to get me to settle.” Jake said as he asked the bartender for another beer and sent one down to the blond.

“Hmm. Well...this girl I got...she sure makes me wanna do that. You’ll know when you meet your girl Jake. Hope you do soon, but for now, have fun and you know you make me so fuckin’ proud to be your brother. You’re gonna be one hell of a pilot, Jake.” Tyler said and he heard Jake laughing at the other end.

“Love you Ty. Miss you. I'll get down there to see you soon okay? Gotta meet this girl of yours. If yur still with her.” Jake said.

“Oh, I’m gonna stick with her for a long time, Jake. Love you, miss you, little bro.” Tyler said and he hung up the phone and headed back to help Georgia with her horses.

“Tyler...” Georgia whispered as he sat up, keeping his hand on her stomach.

“What?” He asked, leaning down to kiss her again.

“I love how proud of him you are.” Georgia said, sitting up and reaching to caress Tyler’s cheek. He reached up and held onto her hand, kissing it as she ran it along his jawline. Tyler laid back down and nuzzled against her.

“Fuck. I'm so sore.” He said and Georgia rubbed circles on his back as they stayed in the bed for a bit longer. Tyler picked up his phone again and shot a quick text to Dustin.

Tyler: hey, you mind feeding this morning? Gee and I need a few more hours

He wasn't surprised at the speed with which the kid texted him back.

Dustin: sure boss! No classes today so I was planning to get everything done early anyway so I could get some extra sleep and study time

Tyler: youre the best, kiddo

“Y'know...I like havin’ Dustin around. He's a good kid.” Tyler murmured as he stealthily let his mouth travel to Georgia's breasts. She ran her fingers through his hair and laughed.

“Thought you were sore, Arkansas. ” Her voice took on a sultry tone as she used his old nickname. It sent a shiver down his spine and he caged her body in with his.

“Mmm. But we don't have to go anywhere to have sex, Peach.” He purred as he lined himself up and she grabbed a hold of his shoulders with a wide smirk painted across her lips.

🌪⛈️🌪

Tyler went through the next week or so with worry heavy in the pit of his stomach for Jake. His brother had been his best friend since they were little. Sure, he had Boone and everyone and he knew Jake had a buddy named Javy, but they were always number one to each other over everyone else. Just because a thousand and some miles separated them, didn't mean they didn't text or talk all the time, or that they didn't think of each other either. They had that funky twin sixth sense too.

Tyler could feel that Jake was somewhere in distress. It was a sinking feeling in his heart. It felt like someone had placed a weight on the bottom of it and let it drop like a ton of bricks. The anxiety Tyler felt for his brother had never been this strong before. He wondered if all of his other stresses had anything to do with it.

It was only when his phone lit up with Samantha's name that he felt the full effect, as if he was dropping from a skyscraper. He’d been standing on the porch, watching Georgia work the filly in the arena.

“Hi, Tyler. They found him. He's on his way home but I may need help caring for him.” Sam said and Tyler was silent for a moment before speaking. Tyler needed to sit. He blew out a breath, the one he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding, and sunk into the Adirondack chair that faced the arena. He could still see Georgia atop the filly.

“Well, if possible, we could have you two come down here and stay at the ranch for as long as you need.” He suggested and Sam was hesitant but she accepted the offer.

“When he's home, I'll ask. I know he wanted to see you anyway and I'm sure you're busy so it'd be better if we came to you.” Sam suggested and Tyler agreed softly.

“Whatever y’all need. You just keep me posted, okay?” Tyler said and Sam assured him she would. He hung up and he breathed a sigh of relief, as heavy as a cloud filled with rain.

Grits, the fast growing red puppy, bounded onto the porch and slid to a sit at Tyler’s feet. He reached down to pet the little guy, and scratched behind his ears.

“My little buddy. C’mon up here.” He patted his lap and Grits jumped right up. Tyler settled a hand on the puppy’s back and continued watching his wife on the filly. He hadn’t really thought too much about it, but they didn’t have a big to-do for getting married. Just the piece of paper and a witness. They didn’t need a big ceremony with a shitload of people. They just needed each other and their families, or what was left of them.

🌪⛈️🌪

“What do you think about Jake and his fiance, Sam, comin’ down here and spendin’ some time?” Tyler asked as he helped Georgia with Tulsa. Her back was sore from riding, and from being pregnant, so it was becoming more difficult for her to get certain things done around the horses. She was going to have to stop riding soon, as she wasn’t going to fit in her saddle with her belly getting bigger.

“That might be good. Might be nice to have your brother around instead of spending all your time with me.” Georgia mused with a smile.

“I never get tired of spendin’ time with you. You...get tired of spendin’ time...with me?” He asked hesitantly and she shook her head.

“No, never. I just think it’d be nice if you had him around for a while. I know how much you miss him. I know it’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.” She said as she opened the poultice clay for the filly’s legs. Tyler dipped his hand in it, took a giant glob out, bent down, and smeared it on Tulsa’s front legs. Georgia had taught him years ago how she liked her horses’ legs poulticed and he remembered. It was the little things like that, that she loved the most about him.

When he rose, he grabbed another handful and did the filly’s back legs, then wiped his hands on a towel. Tyler always appreciated how safe Georgia made sure her horses were. It would make it all too easy for them to have horses for their kids. Georgia thanked him and then she reached for one of his hands and he then took her other. He stared into her pretty blue eyes for several moments, wanting to kiss her but being content in the moment to just admire her.

“God, I sure do love ya a whole lot, Gee.” He said softly, inching closer until their noses were nearly touching. His forehead bumped hers gently and he smirked, then gave in to his desires and kissed her passionately. Her brows knit and she melted into him, his arms wrapping around her waist, her hands going for his hair and the back of his neck. When they parted, they left each other panting, staring dazed into each other’s irises.

🌪⛈️🌪

Tyler and Sam had spoken briefly over the phone when Jake had been in his first therapy appointment. She said she'd have him call Tyler when he got out so that they could finally talk. He waited until they were home and settled, Sam taking up a seat opposite him on the couch with her laptop so she could do some work.

“Hey, bro.” Tyler said over the line. Jake sat uncomfortably in his position and blew air from pursed lips. “Uh-oh. I know that noise. What’s up?”

“This sucks.” Jake sighed and let his head fall back against the back of the couch.

“The fact that you can’t fly or drive or do anything or...?” Tyler asked and Jake groaned. He placed the phone on speaker and put it near his head. He didn’t feel like holding it. His free arm was tired.

“Yeah. I’m like a fucking vegetable.” Jake’s eyes met Sam’s and her brows furrowed. Tyler laughed.

“I bet you could still beat the ever livin’ shit outta some’un if ya had to.” Tyler said, and then he chuckled again. “Not me though. I’d still kick yur ass even with all yur broken bones.”

There was a hint of a smile on Jake’s face and Sam noticed it. “Bet you would.” Jake said and then he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, you and my fiance have been cookin’ up some sort of vacation for me, I hear?” Sam observed what seemed to be stress radiating from Jake. She couldn’t understand why a vacation would stress him.

“Yessir. Just a matter of how long you wanna stay for. Would be nice to see you, introduce y’all to Georgia, and take ya to see momma and pops.” Tyler said and there was silence on the line then. Jake was thinking. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see everyone. It was more that he had a different set of priorities rolling around his brain at the moment and they didn’t quite line up with everyone else’s priorities for him. He knew he needed to talk to Sam about it, but he was mentally drained from today. So he just agreed to appease everyone for now.

“Yeah that sounds great. I think I’d like to be out of the sling before we head down there though...” Jake said and Tyler chuckled.

“Probably a good idea. Then I can get you up on a horse and see if you can still rope.” Tyler said as he settled into the saddle atop Rascal.

“You got a horse I can rope off?” Jake asked, sitting up. Sam noted his change in demeanor and smiled. He needed the vacation but he needed to be active. Sitting around wasn’t doing any good for him.

“Sure do. We’ll make it a competition.” Tyler mused and Jake laughed a little.

“As usual.” Jake said with a smirk.

“Got plenty of shit to do down here. Just like when we were kids.” Tyler’s voice started to go in and out and Jake could hear the wind through the phone.

“A little breezy down there?” Jake asked and Tyler shifted in the saddle. He’d parked Rascal right by the fence. Georgia was just getting off of Tulsa and getting on Twist.

“Yeah, got some weather coming in tonight. I might go chase this one. It’ll be close by if we get anything.” Tyler said and then he glanced at Georgia. That was going to be the part that hurt him the most, was the leaving to go on chases without her.

“You’ll have to bring me on one sometime.” Jake said.

“And you’ll have to take me up in one’a those jets sometime.” Tyler said.

“I promised someone else I’d do that too.” Jake said, glancing over at Sam, who was typing away on her laptop, seemingly not noticing what he said. But, she did, and it made a comfortable warmth rise up inside of her. Jake felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him and he closed his eyes so he decided to end the call with Tyler. That made him sad to do so. “Hey sorry, I'm starting to fall asleep. Still pretty tired. I'll call you again tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure. Get some rest. Love ya, miss ya.” Tyler said with a grin that he wished Jake could see. It would probably put his brother at ease. Jake hung up and Tyler sighed as Georgia made her way over.

“Is he okay?” She asked and Tyler squinted before putting his sunglasses on. The sun was bright and high in the sky and the reflection of it off the light colored arena dirt bothered his eyes.

“He doesn't sound like himself. I know he's on some meds and he's exhausted. He sounds like me after my accident...” Tyler murmured and Georgia reached over and placed her hand on his cheek.

“Well, who better to help him through it than you, huh?” She said softly and he smiled, then motioned to the open expanse of the arena. They trotted their horses off together and enjoyed the sound of hoof beats in the dirt and the silence that floated around it.

#tyler owens #tyler owens x oc #tyler owens fic #twisters fic #twisters 2024 #glen powell

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boygiwrites · 7 months ago

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Harley D. Dixon 33

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📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

TW: CHARACTER DEATH. OFF-SCREEN SUICIDE.

This chapter is heavy with a bittersweet/happy ending. As for the intensity level of the death, think back to the chapter where Shane died. If you want to know more, look at the first tag of this post. Please be wary of this before you read!

Through the wire circle, down at the bottom of the hill, the tiny prisoners are being kicked out.

Curling my fingers tighter around the fence, I squint against the sun, watching as the gate is closed in their faces. They're left to stand there, without direction or purpose, in a sort of purgatory. They can either stay there and eat gravel until they starve, or they can face the outside world. If Dale can hear me, I'm sorry for thinking this, but, good riddance. There certainly ain't no phones out there no more, or even any food, and I know they'll die, but, good riddance. We'on know them. If we let them into our cell block, we'd be downright fools.

You don't put foxes in a chicken coop. It's just common sense, and we don't have much, but we have that.

As our group walk off to continue their chores, content with the death sentence, T-Dog lingers by the gate, digging into his pocket.

Surprisingly, he passes them what looks like a granola bar.

"They're gonna need more than that," Carl muses from beside me. "They need weapons. Ammo. Water."

The two prisoners are less than enthusiastic to receive the snack, but pocket it with a nod anyway. Rick went back into their cell block and packed up their half of the food for 'em, because a deal's a deal, but every crumb counts. A snack can save yer life same way a gun can.

As they turn into the field beyond the prison, I shrug. "Rick'll prolly let them back into their cell block if they come back."

"You think they will?"

If they don't die out there first, then the answer is obvious. "S'like when ya put'cher dog outside when they's naughty!"

He giggles, "They always wanna come back in."

"Them two fellers ain't no wild dogs," I agree. "They's a pair of chihuahuas."

Before Carl and I can watch the two prisoners for any longer, the door to our cell block opens behind us.

Turning around, a smile makes its way onto my face as Herschel shakily plods down the steps, a crutch wedged underneath each of his armpits. Beth and Lori are dutifully fussing over him, ready to catch him if he falls, but he's managing just fine on his own.

"Whoo-hoo, Herschel!" Carl whoops as we walk over, earning a grin from his Momma. "You ready to race me, yet?"

"Give me another day. I'll take you on," He chuckles breathlessly as he breaches the last step, noticing Mouse. "Hey, boy."

I ask him hopefully, "Will ya race me, too?"

"Oh, no," He exclaims as he rests against the rusty railing, the white sunlight curving over his face. "Now, you're a different story."

"You're being silly," Lori smiles to him.

"I hope so."

"Don't worry, Herschel," I knock my elbow into his. "I'll go easy on ya!"

"How generous. Perhaps Carl and I will just have to verse you as a team?"

"Then it'll just be twice as embarrassing when she beats us both," Carl snickers.

Everybody down in the field can be heard shouting cheers up to us, as Herschel lifts his hand off the crutch to give them a wave.

"Come on," Lori says, eyeing his free hand until he grips the crutch again. "What do you say we go rest at that table over there?"

"Well, I'd say I've got no choice."

"You're right about that," Beth says as we guide him across the courtyard. "Carl, what do you think of his new pants? Stylish, huh?"

The boy glances down, only just noticing the change. "Hell yeah."

"Beth was telling us she tailored them herself," Lori says, sounding impressed.

"Well, I didn't do it alone," The girl smiles as we reach the picnic table, carefully sitting Herschel down. "Harley helped me."

"I just held the string," I say shyly.

"No job too small," Herschel muses to me with a smile, before gazing out at the scenery around us, sighing contentedly.

As grey and bleak as this place may be, with its dead walkers and concrete walls, it's a nice day out, which is always a consolation no matter where we are in the world. The sky hangs bright and blue like a polished dome over our heads, painted with smeared, fluffy clouds. If I really wanted to, I could pretend it's just another summer's day back on the farm, but I'on think I do. I don't need peaches and cows to be happy.

"Good to see you up and at 'em again, Greene," My Dad smirks as he comes through the gate, taking the man's shoulder.

As he squeezes and pulls away, Herschel exclaims, "It's good to be up. I couldn't stand to be in that bed a moment longer."

"I bet. You could come help me clear the fence if ya wanted," He jokes as he walks off. "My students are on break."

"We're just leaving the grunt work to the grunt," Carl calls after him.

"Sure you are," Dad says over his shoulder, before drawing his knife and downing one of the many walkers at the fence.

As he gets back to work, Mouse runs up to us with his tennis ball between his slobbery teeth, dropping it at my feet.

Picking it up, I hold it out to Herschel. "Wanna throw it for 'im?"

"Absolutely," He says, taking it.

He throws the ball across the courtyard, sending Mouse scrambling after it like it's a little animal he's gotta catch. It's nice watching Herschel play fetch with Mouse like this, spending the morning chatting with each other about useless things like the weather and seasonal crops.

After about ten minutes, when he gives me the ball to throw, it skips like a stone into a pile of trash near the dumpsters. Whoops!

"Ohhh," Carl exclaims dramatically, watching Mouse nose through the junk. "Foul ball."

Giving him a bit of a shove on the shoulder, I laugh, "Shut up, Carl!"

"She never claimed to be a pitcher," Beth giggles. "She's more of a kicker."

"Yeah, I'm a kicker," I agree, with twinkle-toes Carl dodging me as I try landing a kick to his ankle, "Lemme show ya!"

"She's attacking me!"

"I'm a biter, too!"

"Kids will be kids," Herschel chuckles heartily to the girls, shaking his head. After a short pause, I hear him utter, "What—...?"

It takes me and Carl a moment to settle down, pushing at each other and swallowing down our giggles, before we look in the direction of the dumpsters, where everyone has pinned their attention. The laughter dies in my throat just as quickly as it had come alive. Mouse has completely abandoned his search for the ball — My first clue something's wrong —, staring unflinchingly around the corner.

He starts growling lowly, making my Dad turn around just before a rotten foot steps out into the open.

A face peeks out, melted and dripping.

A walker?

Out here?

Then there's a second, and a third, and a suddenly obvious cacophony of groans that could only come from a mob.

As another walker appears on the opposite side of the courtyard, sandwiching us in, Lori gasps.

I exclaim, "What the Hell?"

Where'd they come from?

"Get inside!" My Dad shouts at us, drawing his crossbow, shooting, killing the closest corpse. "Get inside, quick!"

"Come on," Lori grunts as she and Beth haul Herschel onto his crutches. "Come on, we have to go. We have to go!"

The rest of the group are running up the road, screaming our names and fumbling with keys and guns, ripping the gate to the courtyard open, but it's total and sudden chaos, walkers scattered everywhere. Rick rears his axe back, slamming it into a rotting forehead. The blood spurts. The body falls. We can't take this many on, not like this. Dad was right. We have to run. I unsheathe my knife as Herschel and the girls hobble across the courtyard, my eyes darting from face to face, from yellowed mouth to cloudy eyes to melted skin.

"Mouse?" I call out, feeling almost guilty for wanting to run off and save him. "Oh, my God!"

A body breaks apart from all the others. It reaches out for us, its fingers curved like scythes.

Beth squeals, terrified. "Get away from us!"

There's a disgusting SQUELCH as I drive my knife into its knee, the cold blood splattering my cheek. Twist. Pop. Its knee buckles.

Herschel and Beth scurry up the steps as I pull my knife out — I don't have to kill it. It'll only waste time — shouting coming from all directions as I watch another walker lunge for Herschel and Beth. He raises his crutch, bracing the rubber stub on its chest.

I stand up, ready to help.

As soon as I'm back on my feet, a loud alarm rings out, freezing me to the spot. Who turned those on?

"Harley!" My Dad's voice roars from across the courtyard. "Come here!"

"Let's go, girl!"

T-Dog takes my arm. I'm being dragged toward Dad, tryna spot everybody else. Rick, he's with Lori, Maggie, Carol, and Carl, shoving them all into a big, red cage, closing the door, and fending off more walkers with Glenn. Maggie shoots the lock. They huddle through the door to the prison. They're out. They're safe. Herschel and Beth, they're gone. I think — I hope — they managed to escape, too.

Where did all these walkers come from? We blocked the courtyard off, didn't we?

We reach the back of the courtyard. There's my Dad. He lowers his crossbow, a walker collapsing to the ground in front of him.

"Daddy!"

"Get over here!" He shouts, using his bow to bludgeon walker about to bite into his arm. "We gotta go! Gimme 'er!"

T-Dog shoves me forward.

Dad grabs my hand, his grip turning my skin a pure white, and we're running past walkers again, approaching a big, metal door.

He unholsters his gun and — BANG — shoots the lock off.

"Come on!"

"We can't close this behind us, man!" T worries as we run into the dark corridor, walkers following after us. "What we gonna do?"

Without answering, my Dad leads around a corner, cussing under his breath as he frantically looks around for another door.

After he takes us down what feels like a hundred more corridors, he finds one. "In 'ere! Quick!"

We slip inside. He slams the door shut, taking a step back, staring at it for a moment before it starts to shudder under the weight of the walkers pawing at it on the other side. No more running. God. We've trapped ourselves in here, but at least we're safe, at least we're alive. I wasn't so sure at first, but I can feel the blood pulsing through my muscles now, my breath leaving me in short, panicked bursts.

"Shit," My Dad pants hotly, his sweaty brow glistening even in the dark. "We okay? Baby, you okay?"

"I—I'm fine," I nod shakily, the blaring alarms suddenly cutting out. "W-What happened to everyone else?"

I think I managed to help Herschel and Beth get out safe, but we got separated before I could catch up to them.

"I'on know," He admits, "I'on know. Seemed like we all scattered, but they'll look after each other. Least we're together."

The walker's shadows twitch and warp in black shapes against the grey of the floor, their fingers curling up underneath the bottom of the door like rotten little shrimps, tickling the metal with their chipped nails. They're wild dogs clawing at a rabbits' burrow, thirsting for blood.

When T-Dog doesn't respond, the only noise in this small, dusty room the snarls from outside, Dad asks, "T, man? You okay?"

I turn to look at him, the lack of sunlight making my eyes hurt.

T-Dog is staring at his feet like there's an interesting bug crawling on his ankle, wordless, looking up at us with wide eyes.

"Oh, my God," I breathe, watching the blood pour out.

There ain't no bug on his ankle.

There's a gaping bite.

"My sister used to babysit our neighbour's dog from time to time," T-Dog chuckles to himself, sat up against the wall opposite us. His legs are kicked out lazily in front of him, his smile plump and warm, like he's relaxing on his porch. The only thing missing is a cigarette between his fingers. I'on think he realizes that me and Dad ain't fully listening, or maybe he doesn't care. "Man, he was an ugly thing."

Already, this room smells like death, and there's nothing we can do except stew in it.

The door shudders violently in the background.

"A lil' Scottish breed, or sum. One of them dogs with the big moustache and the angry eyes. Anyway," He sighs. It's difficult to look at him, in a way that makes me feel an aching sense of guilt for averting my eyes like this, but I just have to. I can't look at his smile anymore, or at the puddle of blood, or at the bite, or even at the walls, my gaze stuck unwaveringly on my boots. "There was this one weekend. She'd just got done takin' the lil' guy for a walk, and she was on the phone with her friend, talkin' about a party. 'Course, I was eavesdroppin'."

He wheezes a laugh to himself as my Dad continues to stare emptily at him, not entertained in the slightest.

"I thought to myself, 'Girl. Our parents are gonna kill you if they find out.' She was never the bookworm type, or anythin' like that. She was a bit of a bully, mind. Used to invite me to get ice-cream with her and her friends and make fun of me the whole time-type stuff."

Shut up, I wish I could shout in his face without angering the walkers outside, It doesn't matter now. You're bit!

When I thought I'd gotten scratched back at the quarry, I spent all night thinking of things that didn't matter, so maybe I can't blame him.

"I just got so jealous," He whispers, his smile fading, a sad look in his eyes. "I'on even know what pushed me to do it, but I went into the backyard and I opened the gate. Let the dog out. I knew I'd done the wrong thing when I saw the look on 'er face. I even went with her when she was puttin' up missin' posters all over our neighbourhood, shoutin' his name. Pepper, pepper. We ain't never found him."

"Don't you just sound like a pair'a angels," My Dad dares to joke.

He laughs. "That's what Grimes said."

That was back on the farm, when T was tryna make me feel better 'bout my fight with Carl by telling me a story 'bout his sisters stealing from him. He's always had the most ridiculous stories that make us all laugh, and he would let us, even if it was at his expense.

If I were to think about useless things, too, I'd think of him nicknaming me and Carl, little nerds, him sharing his pretzels with me while I was unwell, how he went with Rick and Dad to save me from Shane, those stupid shirts we got him and Glenn for Christmas.

"Well, ya know what they say about great minds," Dad mutters non-committedly, before there's another thud on the door.

"Daddy?"

"Hm?" He grunts, leaning toward me.

Into the shell of his ear, I shyly whisper, knowing he can't do nothin' about it, "I'on wanna be in here, no more. I wanna leave. Please."

"I know, chicken. I know," He soothes, putting his arm around my shoulders, cradling my head against his side. "M'sorry."

T-Dog asks, "What'd she say?"

"She don't like it in 'ere."

"Well, I'm sorry, too. I'm gonna die," He chuckles incredulously, his belly shuddering. "And all I can think about is that damn dog."

"How you feelin', man?"

"Like ten pounds of shit in a five-pound sack," T-Dog slurs, his head lolled onto his shoulder. "Thanks for askin'."

It's been hours since we trapped ourselves in this room. I can tell, not only because of the way my stomach has begun to roil with hunger and my mouth has gone dry like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing against each other, but because of poor T-Dog. His bald head is slathered in sweat, the droplets sliding down his face as if he's sitting under a showerhead, but I know it's the work of the germs inside his body.

Dad, Merle, and I saw this hitch-hiker get bitten back in the beginning, while we were staying with this group of people whose supplies we ended up stealing. They was the types to pick up needy travellers on the side of the road, even if they'd just been bitten.

Merle wanted to kill the guy when he found out, but it only took half a day for the bite on the man's leg to do it for him.

"I think we gotta start thinkin' about—," My Dad cuts himself off, before muttering, "What we gon' do."

"We wait here until somebody finds us," T-Dog insists, repeating the plan they had came up with hours ago. The walkers won't leave us alone with him bleeding all over the floor the way he is, and to go out there would be suicide. "It can't be much longer, now."

"I'm—," Dad sighs. "I ain't talkin' about the walkers, T. You know I ain't."

He nods his head in jerky movements.

"I-I know," He says.

"I'on think they're gonna find us before it matters." His way of saying, Before you turn. "I— I can't have you in here with Harley."

When T-Dog doesn't have anything to say in reply, Dad forces himself to continue. "So... I got a bullet or a bolt. That's where we're at."

"No." He adjusts himself against the wall, lifting his head to look him in the eye. "I don't want you to."

"I know," He placates. "I'm sor—"

"I'mma do it myself," He says matter-of-factly. "I'm a man of God. It might be a sin to take myself out, but I'll be damned if I fought this hard and got this far, only to let another man kill me. Even if he's my brother. So, I'm doin' this on my own terms. It has to be me."

Stomaching his words, my Dad slowly nods to himself, before he sends me a sympathetic look.

T-Dog bides his time for a couple more hours by telling us what must be every story he has, but it's after he throws up into the corner of the room that it becomes obvious to us that we just can't afford to wait any longer for the group to find us.

"We ain't gonna be sappy about this," T-Dog warns us as he sits back down, wiping his mouth.

"C'mon. You're one'a the sappiest bastards I know," Dad deadpans. "And I know a lotta sappy bastards."

"I guess I just always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, if I had to."

"You don't want yer last moments to be with us?"

Coughing up a laugh, T-Dog jokes, "I didn't say that."

I almost want to ask him to wait just one more minute — That's not a long time. He could do it — and after that minute passes, I'd ask him again. I know it wouldn't save his life if the group found us right now, but I wouldn't be asking for them, or even for him. I'd be asking for myself. Selfishly, I want just one more minute with him. What if—? What if he didn't get any sicker? What if he turns out fine?

It's a question only a fool would ask, and I know all I can do now is appreciate all the thousands of minutes he had before this.

"Okay," He sighs, reaching behind him, pulling out his gun and resting it in his lap, staring down at it. "This is it."

It ain't how my Momma did it, but it's just as awful.

"We could still wait," My Dad suggests, giving him an out I know he won't take. "If they find us, they find us. If they don't—..."

"You heard me, man. Blaze of glory." He looks up at us, his sweaty fingers gently curled around the gun. For the first time since the door closed, he meets my gaze, but he just looks tired, like he could use a long, peaceful sleep. "This is gonna be hard. I'm sorry."

I watched Shane die in front of me, watched him bleed much the same way. At least this time, I'll get the chance to close my eyes.

"You're a tough girl," He gulps. "You been through more shit than most."

"Thought'chu said we wasn't gonna be sappy," I complain, just to get him to stop.

"The first time I saw you, I just knew you were gonna be a lil' terror." He continues, anyway. "Dale, too. Said he knew you'd make it."

Dale always did say the darndest things. The only reason I've made it this far is because of other people. I ain't no clueless airhead can't skin no animal or kill no walker, but my beatin' heart can be accredited to a small group of people, one that includes T-Dog. There's been countless times where I should'a died and didn't, and this is one of them times that somebody else shouldn't be dying, but is.

I ain't special. Just because I ain't died yet don't mean everybody else can't still be alive, too. My Dad says, Ain't no such thing as good or bad luck. Just strong people, but T-Dog ain't weak and there is such a thing as bad luck.

"I thought you would, too," I tell him, hoping it's some sorta comfort.

"C'mere," Dad mumbles, helping me climb into his lap and rubbing his big hand between my shoulder blades as I press my brow to his neck, squeezing my eyes shut. He takes out my hearing aids, and after that, I don't open my eyes for the next few hours.

Like this, I can pretend it didn't happen.

But I can still smell the gunpowder in the air.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word," My Dad's voice rasps quietly in my ear, "Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird."

I've never wanted to leave a room more than I want to leave this one in my entire life. If I could, I think I'd claw my way out.

"And if that mockingbird don't sing, Daddy's gonna buy you a diamond ring."

The singing helps. It don't make the smell any more bearable, but it helps.

"And if that diamond ring turns brass, Daddy's gonna buy you a looking glass."

One more minute, I tell myself just like I wanted to tell T-Dog, one more minute, and then another after that. The others have an entire prison to search for us in, with twists and turns every few feet, dust in the air and walkers lining the corridors, and I can't even guarantee they ain't already dealing with the deaths of any of our other people, but I know they'll refuse to stop until they find us.

I keep replaying the scene of the courtyard in my head, remembering everyone who I saw made it out.

"And if that looking glass gets broke," He sings, "Daddy's gonna buy you a billy goat."

Sometime later, I realize I've managed to block out the sound of the incessant groaning because there's suddenly another noise amongst it all — A grunt too pronounced to come from a walker, then a squelch and a dull thud, like a sack of flour dropping to the floor.

Lifting my head from Dad's shoulder, I look at the door as the groaning becomes lesser and lesser until it disappears.

"They're here. They're here," I say in shock, climbing off Dad's lap just as the door is opened.

"Holy shit," Glenn exclaims as Maggie wraps her arms around me, returning my brutal hug. "You're here."

"We drew them away," She says, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Oh, I can't believe it. We searched everywhere for y'all."

It's when she pulls away that I make the mistake of following her and Glenn's gazes into the corner of the room, where T lay exactly where I last saw him, the only difference being that his brains are now plastered against the wall in the shape of a flower.

"Don't look," Dad gently scolds me, turning me back around so I'm facing the door.

She stares at the carnage, her lips slightly parted without knowing what to say, before she has to look away, too. "What happened?"

"He got bit," Dad mutters. It's impossible to recount what we just went through in any poetic way, and the rest, they can guess.

"Horrible," She croaks.

"We can come back for him later," Glenn struggles to say, urging all of us outta the room. "Let's get you two back to the cell block."

"Is everyone okay?" I ask him desperately.

As the door closes on T-Dog, Glenn gazes down at me, his face just as exhausted-looking as Dad's, but with a slight glint in his eyes.

"Everyone's okay," He manages to smile, glancing at Maggie before he adds, "Even the new baby."

I look up at my Dad, his shock mirroring mine. "Lori had her baby?"

And that right there is good luck.

Glenn steps over a body. "Come on."

Author's Note.

In exchange for T-Dog's especially intense death, Lori lives.

I went over SO many iterations for this chapter after receiving a comment suggesting I consider letting Lori and T-Dog live, and honestly, this version was the most suitable one. I decided the other versions were either just too indulgent or didn't fit with the story, but I liked them, too 😭

Thank you to ermynee, because without them/you, Lori would also be dead right now!

I hated doing that to T-Dog, but I thought it would make for an interesting non-canon scene and wanted to balance out the fact that Lori lives. You'll see also that Carol doesn't get lost, so the whole 'getting stuck and being found' situation was given to these guys instead. RIP T-Dog.

Thank you for reading. Always appreciate you! 💙

@poetoflawed

#suicide after being bitten #the walking dead #fanfic #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #twd #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x oc #parent daryl dixon #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #glenn rhee #maggie rhee #lori grimes

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scattered-irises · 6 months ago

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Part V: Helix of Memories

Another prequel to the Dysonia AU.

More references to the Illusory Paradise...annnnnndd it's all Vocaloid characters. Whoops. Ah, well, you get a small paragraph on Christopher.

Rating: General

Word Count: 1914

Characters: Luka, Miku, Rin

Relationships: Background Luka/Gackpo

Warnings: Talks about human cloning

“Clones…? Count me out of it,” scoffs Rin.

Luka looks at her sister in surprise.

“I thought you, out of everyone else, would have been most excited about this proposal,” she remarks.

Rin puts her hands on her hips.

“On the contrary, if you actually thought about it,” she mutters.

She gives Luka a sharp glare.

“Human cloning is one of the things I would never support as a geneticist.”

“Why?” asks Miku, popping up from their sofa. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a way to remember someone like that?”

Rin purses her lips and shakes her head.

“There’s too many environmental factors to ensure a perfect clone. Plus, they won’t even have the original’s memories, so there’s no point,” she adds.

“What if that was the only way for you to see them again?” ventures Luka.

Her younger sister stares at the floor while Miku makes a humming sound. Rin’s eyebrows slowly furrow, a frown appearing on her lips.

“Don’t tell me you’re seriously considering that man’s proposal,” begins Rin.

A long silence fills the room. Luka feels Miku’s judgemental gaze on her, hot as coals. Many years ago, Rin had worked under Dr. Realist’s supervision alongside Luka. After a long argument on the ethics of experimenting on extracted human brains, Rin had left the lab in a furious storm. Even now, her name tag continues to stare at her from the breakroom’s fridge.

“It’s impossible!” continues Rin. She takes off her red-rimmed glasses and looks directly at Luka. “They’ll send you off to who-knows-where! Your mind wouldn’t be able to last…!”

“I agree,” adds Miku. “Being in space for that long…It would be far too isolating.”

Luka wets her lips and looks at her sisters. Rin had just returned home from work, evidenced by her irritability. Her lab coat hangs from one arm, the bow on her head crooked. Miku meanwhile, seemed to reflect Rin’s inner worries.

“I…it’s still a few years off,” begins Luka. “That’s why I wanted to ask now, if you were willing to donate some of your DNA samples…”

Making a sound of disgust, Rin turns away from Luka and begins to walk upstairs.

“Count me out of it,” she snarls. “I’ll have nothing to do with that man.”

In the silence that follows, Luka slowly turns to Miku, who holds her with a stony gaze.

“You won’t be able to change her mind, you know,” says Miku.

Luka lets out a sigh and nods.

“I know.”

Turning back to her computer, Miku continues typing up song lyrics. For a moment, Luka listens to the pitter pattering of her sister’s keyboard. Out of all of them, only Miku had pursued the arts. It never ceased to amaze Luka how easily lyrics flowed from Miku’s mind. And her voice…! Bright, warm and sweet, just like an angel’s. Their entire family was all good at singing, but Miku had long proven that she was the best.

It seemed like everyone in her family had their own talents and their own destinies. Their oldest sister Meiko was a skilled manager, boosting Miku’s popularity to the top. Their older brother Kaito was a savvy businessman. Rin was one of the best geneticists in the city. Her twin, Len, was a renowned journalist. And Luka…her destiny was to the stars, far far away from everyone she knew and loved.

Why did it have to be her?

“That Dr. Realist…How much do you trust him?” Miku asks suddenly.

Taken aback, Luka runs her eyes across her sister’s screen.

I gaze up at the stars in the transparent sky

I'm unable to fly, all I can do is cry

I've been wounded up alone, and whenever I feel lonely

"You came here to help me..."

The lyrics are oddly chilling, causing Luka to take a step back.

Dr. Realist…She had been with him from the very beginning. They had their disagreements, but where it truly mattered, they were in lockstep. His dream was also her dream. In spite of his mercurial nature and carelessly dispensed insults about the human race, they shared a deep desire to save mankind.

“I trust him with my entire being,” says Luka. “I know he doesn’t seem so, but he’s a true genius. He’ll be the one to save us all.”

Miku makes another humming sound. A pang twists Luka’s heart. On the distant STELLA colony, would there be anyone who would hum the same way Miku did? Surrounded by nothing but stars and the blackness of space, would there be anything remotely familiar?

“I’m willing to give you the needed samples, but you must promise me something,” proposes Miku.

“Yes?”

Miku turns back, green eyes sparkling with amusement.

“My clones are only allowed off of earth, alright? I don’t want to have to deal with an imposter!” she teases.

Luka gives her sister an easy grin.

“Of course. I’ll keep all your samples close to me at all times.”

Miku beams.

“Good! Gumi’s songs about running into her clones always made me uneasy…”

Luka laughs at the mention of their neighbor.

“I’ll be sure to ask her if she wants to donate,” she says.

“You probably won’t have to ask…she’d volunteer!”

The sisters share an easy laugh. Their neighbor was always trying new things, it seemed. One time it was skydiving. Next, it was starting a podcast on kappa hunting. Yes, Luka definitely had to ask if Gumi wanted her clones on STELLA. She would add much-needed joy to the loneliness of space.

Miku leans her head on the back of the sofa and looks back at Luka. A hint of sadness fills her expression.

“In all seriousness…please treat my clones well…As you’ve done for me, I want you to watch over them and prevent them from falling into despair. Easy enough, right? ”

A nervous laugh crawls up Luka’s throat. She holds Miku’s gaze.

“That was a given,” says Luka.

Happiness was so difficult to maintain and keep.

Miku grins.

“Does Gackpo know?”

Luka pauses. Her stomach does a small flip upon thinking about her fiancé. She looks down at her garnet ring. He had been so patient, waiting all of those years for her. Would he be able to bear the news that they would never marry, her body shipped off into the depths of space for eternity?

“...Not yet,” admits Luka.

Miku quirks an eyebrow.

“You don’t want a clone of him on your colony?”

Luka looks out the window. A light drizzle has begun, dotting the window with small teardrops.

“I don’t think so,” says Luka after a few moments.

“Oh?”

She thinks of Gackpo’s deep blue eyes and gentle smile. She thinks of running her hands down his chiseled jaw. His soft, purple hair and supple skin. His soothing, deep voice. Her lips tremble. She would have to leave him behind, along with all of her wishes and dreams on earth.

A happy marriage. A normal family. A normal life.

Having a clone of him would be a constant reminder of all she had lost.

“He wouldn’t like the idea,” Luka replies quietly.

“I see…”

To have a Gackpo that didn’t remember her, who couldn’t touch her, who couldn’t love her, would be merely a cheap copy.

“What about your coworkers? Like that Christopher?” asks Miku.

The thought of her coworker makes Luka pause. Whenever she looked at him, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity. He always seemed so sad, his bangs framing his long face with its sunken eyes. Would giving his clone another life on her colony result in a happier Christopher? She doesn’t know what to think of the idea. What would he be if he hadn’t been a scientist? On the colony, would he gaze out at the stars, searching for the dilapidated earth? Would he sing beneath the stars, glad to be rid of the bright moon?

A small smile fills Luka’s lips when she thinks of Christopher singing.

“I’ll think about it,” she replies.

Miku types up a few more lyrics, humming beneath her breath. Luka watches as she writes, the melody filling her with sadness.

The wish constituting such a desire

was absorbed into the deep, deep, darkness

The words I muttered helplessly

resound aimlessly in this room

It seems like the only one left behind in this world is me

“What’s this song about?” asks Luka.

Miku doesn’t turn back to look at her, intensely gazing at her screen.

“The loneliness of a wish granter,” she replies.

“Interesting…”

“Actually, I think you’d be perfect for the song,” she adds.

“Me?!”

“Mmhm!”

Miku turns back, beaming.

“I’m thinking of naming it The Lone Cell of the Stella Theatre,” she declares.

“Well…!”

“Being surrounded by clones of all your loved ones…won’t you be sad that they won’t remember you?” asks Miku.

The faces of Luka’s siblings fill her mind. The countless memories they made of singing and laughing together would have to be enough to carry her into eternity. The things their clones would do without her would be a gentle reminder of those moments. As the STELLA colony’s mind, she would know them, yet they would only see her as a distant god.

Luka’s throat is dry. As STELLA, she would become an onlooker, forever shut out of the human world. She needed something to remind her that she was once human.

Luka forces a smile and tilts her head.

“Only a little bit. It’s enough for me to see all of you smiling,” she replies.

“You’ll be a benevolent ruler then,” says Miku with a small smile. “How many times do you think you’ll clone me?”

Luka gives a small shrug.

“Every hundred to two hundred years or so…just enough so that the people there won’t notice I’m cloning my lovely little sister.”

Miku giggles.

“Maybe in one of my clones’ lives, they’ll be an idol-nun,” she jokes.

“An idol-nun?!” echoes Luka incredulously.

Her sister shrugs, rolling her shoulders and then humming.

“That was the first thing that came to mind. She could be a nun by day, idol by night.”

“Life on the colonies isn’t going to be like a manga!” protests Luka.

“Are you sure? It sounds a lot like one from all you’ve told me,” says Miku, unwrapping a candy bar.

She breaks it in half and offers it to Luka. Taking the candy, Luka takes a nibble and sighs. To many, Dr. Realist’s proposal sounded like a sci-fi novel or a pipe dream. Only a few were truly willing to believe him. The idea of sending a lone human to control and become a space colony seemed absurd, after all.

“Laugh at me all you like, but it’ll come true someday,” says Luka resolutely.

A hint of melancholy fills Miku’s face. She contemplates her candy bar and then bites into it. She chews methodically, with Luka silently counting how many times her sister chews before swallowing. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Swallow.

Miku looks out the window, where the rain continues to fall. Meiko’s geraniums were starting to bend beneath the intensifying rain. Luka makes a mental note to heat up her sister’s favorite sake before she comes home. Miku was probably thinking the same thing.

“I know,” sighs Miku after a moment of pondering the rain. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

Placing a hand on Miku’s shoulder, Luka offers her sister a small smile.

“We still have a few years left. Let’s enjoy them while we can.”

#Dysonia AU #writing from iris

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 7 months ago

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blargh blargh BLARGH. bloom into you rant touko my aro-coded theater queer im suddenly salty for you

the live reaction experience of getting to the last chapters of the Bloom Into You yuri manga as they were being released and thinking with increasing baffled passion that Yuu and Sayaka should've jumped from mutually respectful rivalry over how to best be a friend to Touko, to cozy not dramatic very competitive girlfriends with each other while their tall dark tragic theater girl realizes her one true love was the stage all along

Touko's story arc was so much bigger in scope than a confession of love to someone who's ancillary to all of it could ever satisfyingly wrap up (to ME) (my opinion means nothing except to me sself) she felt like a fully completed character with romance slapped on top last minute like a discount price tag sticker

her whole thing about being the one declaring her love and asking for kisses specifically with a girl who thinks she can't love anyone and then we find out Touko's been an actress this whole time not coping with grief by pretending to be her dead big sister only to find out said sister wasn't so extraordinary actually and Touko's perfect persona is almost nothing like her and Touko's need to do and be everything her sister couldn't is a whole thing

and who better to act out the quintessential highschool love and lust that you think you should be into but just can't bring yourself to try out, than with a partner who'll never be hurt by it not being real. What is more ace or aro than experiencing things you personally don't click with via a fictional character you can inhabit without worrying about long term real life consequences or connections to the real you, and finding out that it CAN be fun in that situation, with that distance

Touko's attracted to someone who says she can't fall in love and Touko makes that a requirement of their relationship that Yuu won't fall in love with her

(i know i know there's a Lot of reasons for her to do this i don't care im lost in the aro vibes)

but then Yuu does fall in love because whoops maybe she was gay this whole time after all and just didn't feel anything for the guy who asked her out

meanwhile Touko's long time bestie confesses HER love for Touko too

and im reading this screaming LET THE ARO-CODED GIRL ESCAPE THIS MADNESS LET THEsE TWO DATE EACH OTHER AND LEAVE HER BE!!!

by the end theater girl is out there moving past her trauma living her best normal girl life as a stage actress who's allowed to be imperfect off stage, and she has no idea her bestie had gotten a girlfriend until Yuu tells her

then a side story comes out and Sayaka the former Touko unrequited romantic suitor ended dating a girl who looks Exactly Like Yuu

in my head there's a sequel when they're in their thirties figuring out Hey Wait A Second with a dash of Maybe The AroAce Who Likes Having Girlfriends Was Touko All Along

(maybe Yuu and Sayaka should date about it) (maybe Touko can kiss her friends sometimes and go on dates with them for fun without it having to be romantic) (maybe Yuu's athletic childhood bestie meets the Yuu look alike and Sayaka finally gets one amicable fully mutual break up under her belt)

maybe my problem is that writers put so much effort into the pre-relationship but then treat the confession as the end, the resulting happiness a boring given, and almost never reward me with actually getting to see what the relationship itself looks like, when it's the whole thing I spent all this time waiting for and cheering on. Which makes the relationship feel empty and hollow (to me) compared to the other connections that DID get shown and established and grown into

maybe that's a silly thing to think about a highschool romance story.

maybe this is why im more and more only reading stories with relationships already established pre-canon so i don't have to worry about burning energy on something that won't make me go !!! by the end of it

maybe there's also stories where, even though the characters aren't officially together yet, they're still together enough for their dynamic to shift and settle into something that FEEELS like what they'll have for the rest of their lives no matter if they've confessed to each other or not

maybe bloom into you was very well made and STILL missed the mark for me so hard i stopped reading the entire genre, because if something THIS GOOD still could fundamentally not work for me, im just probably reading in the entirely wrong section of the romance isle

maybe i need to start sleeping again my brain feels like a gently poked sunny side up egg in a frying pan

#bloom into you #spoilers #for the whole thing

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versegm · 2 years ago

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Ok actually after a discussion with a friend I decided to run some more statistics re: fanfics and engagement, so here (statistics taken off my own fanfics):

General results:

I did both the median and the average to try to smooth out any statistical outlier, but the results were roughly the same lmao

Roughly, 11,20% of readers drops a kudo after clicking on a fic (which I assume to be a good baseline for "amount of readers who clicked here on purpose and didn't quit midway through")

On average, 2,8% of readers bookmark a fic after reading it (would be curious to know if that's a general thing? Because don't really write shippy fics or the "popular" stuff so that might incurs statistical bias. If anyone else is willing to run some numbers I'd love to know.)

On average, 0,88% of readers drop a comment after the fact.

Hypotheses:

I included the release date (or something close to) of each fandom to see if there was a correlation between ratio of comments vs age of the fanbase. There was none.

There are some fandoms where I actively linked my fics everywhere and got involved with people ect ect. I included that as well to see if there was a correlation between ratio of comments vs how much it was promoted. There was not. (It is possible that people directly dmed me their impressions instead of leaving a comment, in which case sorry guys I hold your compliments close to my heart but they were unfortunately lost to time.)

I wanted to add whether or not the fandom was currently active, but that's... actually really hard to gauge (what metric to use? Amount of fics uploaded on ao3 daily? Amount of new tweets under a given hashtag?) so I didn't.

Conclusion: I couldn't find any specific reasons for these numbers so uh I guess "10% of people bother finishing your fic/3% will like it enough to bookmark it/1% will go the extra step to tell you about it" is the default, and any deviation from that norm is fandom specific.

Fandom-specific observations:

Biggest ratio of comments/hits goes to all my Fate/Stay Night & Fate/Grand Order crossover fics, weirdly enough. Either 1) the fsn fandom is really generous in comments, or 2) the fact that it's a crossover means that it attracts two very different crowds which leads to twice the usual amount of comments.

The dubious award of having the worst ratio of comments/hits goes to the Amphibia fandom with a whooping 0,41%, half as much as any other fandom. Jesus Christ. That being said it is a fandom mostly populated by kids (I think?) which is probably (?) not the case for these other fandoms.

This is a fate blog so I do have to point out that the second worst ratio of comments/hits goes to the Fate/Grand Order fandom, so I can only encourage you guys to actually comment on the fics you like.

AI: The Somnium Files has a nearly 20% of kudos per hit. Though the ao3 tag is also not very active (last I checked it could go weeks without any update) so it might be a case of "we're so starved for new fics we'll read anything at this point."

TL;DR:

It seems like on average, 10% of people drop a kudo, 3% will like it enough to bookmark it, and 1% will go the extra step of leaving a comment. If you're a fic writer and you are despairing over the amount of attention your fic gets, worry not- that is normal.

#fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #statistics

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xxswagcorexx · 2 years ago

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tumblr user xxswagcorexx why do you insist on hiding away half your analyses/ramblings in the tags of your posts speak ur truth!!! anyway talk mythology andor symbolism to me whats the significance behind red's cult eating honey? do either of them get any items of power mixed up sometimes but just go whoops and move on like its no big deal? what would an outsider pov on this mess look like "ah that pair of lunatic gods again" bc this is sooo funny to me to imagine

i am . scared of everyone (and plus i don't wanna make the post too long and tags let me ramble without worrying abt length/mention small things without feeling like i need to format it properly ^_^

and uh abt the honey thing. this is where u can see this is Really inspired by greek mythology but basically in greek mythology, honey was seen as food of the gods and would provide gods immortality and whatnot ^_^ anyways i was like "hmmmmmm reddoons core" but also it just really works well. aesthetically for him

(AND GET READY FOR A LONG RAMBLE UNDER THE CUT)

anyways on the topic of the honey thing, i tend to associate red with gold because 1) money and 2) red and gold are a really classic color combo that i love, so honey (sorta) resembling molten gold is just. really aesthetically pleasing to me

and also iirc red wanted to make the byzantine empire in earthbound season 2? and when i came across a video on how to make byzantine honey fritters by tasting history with max miller i was like "omg reddoons core"--and from the video it seems like honey was a bit of a special dessert? in 6:33 of the video, there's a poem about a monk complaining about how the abbots have it a lot better than the monks and they mention that the abbots had 2nd helping of honey fritters so yeah i think its safe to assume honey was a semi-special thing, even if it was common. so uh. yeah. money and reddoons. thumbs up

and for the longest time i have associated bees and honey by rina sawayama with. swagdoons in general and the entire song is about how much the singer loves money and partying even if they're broke as shit LMAO its such a good bop if you like pop i recommend it . anyways ya that just added to the aesthetic in general

(as u can tell most of it was based off of vibes and plus in biased because i like how. warm milk and honey taste and plus i really like the idea of milk being something nurturing and honey being something sweet that is representative of love bc ur being sweet and easing someone into something so. Yeah. just vibes but how i figure out vibes are so specific that its worth explaining i think <- loves romanticizing the mundane) (and there's a sick ass line from the end poem like that) (like "And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love. You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love." come ON that line fucks so hard how couldn't i love it)

anyways i think with all of that in mind, red's cult would eat honey as a sign of wealth and comfort/nurturing 4 those reasons ^_^ (i am so sorry for all of that for explaining that i just have lots of Reasons to why i feel something sometimes)

WILDLY OFF TOPIC but u also asked abt items of power getting mixed up, i think it would happen most during worship </3 i think they'd just go to each other and be like "REDDOONS one of your cult members sacrificed blood as a loyalty pact to their partner instead of WAR again. u want it" and red would either let ash keep it or take it so uh. insert them sharing their power with each other here even though their values are usually on increasing ur ego and being on top of the world (CONSIDERING THIS FANDOM LOVES THEMES OF LOYALTY IN A GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL WAY) (SEE WHY I DDNT WANT THEM COMING FROM ANOTHER GOD OR MERGING INTO 1 GOD) (THE IMPLICATIONS ARENT GOOD)

anyways i think ash and red (as gods) and their cults are pretty well known (like how swagdoons r the 2nd most popular ls ship) but LORD if their myths got lost to time they'd be a nightmare to study via texts and scripts in the future. like i can imagine for the LONGEST time historians argue if they were gods that changed during the dark ages because red's name predates ash until they Finally find a myth involving them as 2 different characters and its settled that they're 2 separate gods even though they represent similar-ish things LOL anyways yeah i can imagine more myths of them being found and historians going ??? wtd were these gods <3 hope that answers ur questions anon! :D

#ashswag #reddoons #tw swearing #media.warning.swearing #tw caps #media.warning.caps #mcytshipping #lsshipping #<- not really?? tbh i dont ship them myself but it Is mentioned a bit so #but also i am letting this out to the world for a reason . become a true mythology and make up whatever u wanna do with them ^_^#death of that author or whatever . evolve them and make them ur own!!!!!#anyways ya i think red's cult would Really value material goods and focus on living ur best life in a lots of money and party kinda way #and i mentioned his would be more of an ideology so i think his practices would involve stuff involving shooting the shit and Capitalism #while with ash he gives u like. Things if you sacrifice and worship him (like winning a battle)#so ya #also iirc some religions Do talk abt money in their holy texts so perhaps some of reds myths r abt that #i should really make a tag for this huh. i cant think of any so uhhhhh #into the pantheon #<- yeah lets go with that 4 now #anyways ^_^ ty for the ask anon!#and i am So Sorry to the maintag for spamming i am just Ill about this concept #ask.core #swagdoons #asshole roommates #scam duo

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void-tiger · 2 years ago

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please tell me more about the fic where Ke/th doesnt get to be a paladin again, i keep seeing shit like how the team abandoned/failed Ke/ith and should have apologized to him when it was literally the opposite (i am sorry but the team almost DIED because K/ith fucked off to run off with the Blades, werent for Kuron entering Black they would have actually died, i do not understand how anyone can see this and say the team was in the wrong/Ke1th was in the right, and still be considered a team player let alone a team leader is beyond me. Really really sorry about salt in your askbox)

No worries! (Although, disclaimer: I had to set aside my voltron fics for a bit ‘cause I can’t work on them without getting salty, and too much salt is bad for you. So they’re…curing, I guess. I’ll stop with the bad salt jokes now XD)

But short answer? Keith’s their comfort blorbo, and it’s incredibly easy to have that become “can do no wrong ever it MUST be EVERYONE else!” and…not recognize that kneejerk bias. Ask The Real Fandom Olds TM who’ve participated in fandom culture since the 80s and 90s and that’s a key issue with Current Fandom and especially younger fans (ie, probably our generation and younger.) Add in that a lot of us online trend (in my antidotal experience) towards having untreated anxiety or depressive symptoms and/or undiagnosed neurodivergent brain wiring that an individual might’ve not quite learned how to cope with yet (and many come with emotional regulation symptoms) in addition to…human brains really just Don’t stop developing until mid20s regardless of someone’s birth gender and brain development is particularly chaotic and…well.

That’s a recipe for a volatile fandom, and since the VLD Characters in particular were geared towards Teens or Teen Nostalgia? [Comfort Blorboing Intensifies.]

Now, in one fic series Idea, Keith DOES become the Red Paladin again, but he has to work for it. Really work for it. Like, the Team is still incredibly hurt that he left and never really apologized for ditching them before THAT Scene where Jiro is forced to step in s4. I think I have in my notes somewhere [coughs] prolly a random post or very buried DM to a friend that Red Lion finally outright takes Keith for a joy ride (much like Blue and Black did with Lance and Shiro) and literally has him bouncing around in zero g and gforces until Red’s really willing to accept him back as Paladin. (Also it makes me feel better.)

[tags: blackbox verse, rewrite the stars, blackbox, veeladee fixit. Note that some of the older posts especially I’ve probably discarded. But I do my best worldbuilding thinking aloud, and hey. It’s fanfic. Who gives af about spoilers? Not me.]

But, in Blackbox verse, I wanted Jiro to have his very own Lion…and the Sincline Meteor is right there. Plus, y’know. Fixing-fixing. Making as much work as I felt like since it was intended to be a series, anyway.

Buuut, that’s not the fic idea you asked about.

The one you asked about is actually a Redo of The Black Paladin’s episode following alteanroyals’ prompt of “what if Shiro’s the one who fights the clone, and the clone gets to just come home. Have his own name.” Because, c’mon. The visuals would’ve been incredible, and Josh Keaton and Studio Mir adores Shiro and Jiro even if the EPs and arguably NONE of the writers (even the better ones trying to patch job before bailing out) gave a shit about Jiro as his own character.

So. Back to Keith.

He actually tries flying Black Lion, same as the (egh) canonical episode…and…

WHOOPS. He gets lasers shot at him for his efforts (hA HA~)

Allura steps in, and has a battle of wills against Black Lion, then realizes that what has Black so torqued is Keith tried to dominate the Lion. (Imo? The only reason why Keith could fly with Black in s2-4 was because of the bond they both had with Shiro. “Help me help you.”) And well. Allura’s learned a thing or two: trying to dominate a Lion does NOT work. She learned that for herself with White Lion, she’s now realizing that’s why Black Lion accepted Shiro as it’s Paladin over Zarkon at all. So Allura changes tactics, senses Shiro’s Quintessence still inside Black Lion nearly two years after he vanished, and calls the others in. They do a reverse-balmera ceremony via their voltron bonds and pull Shiro back out—in his OWN body, tyvm.

And well. Remember how it’s technically a “Shiro vs CloneShiro” prompt? Yeah, they fight. (I’ll try not to have them totally wreck the place. All Shiros are Good Shiros.) And when Black Lion comes for them now that the Lion can get a clear shot? Red Lion also comes.

Because Keith isn’t the only character who holds the needed qualities for a Red Paladin. (Reactive instincts, laser focus, loyalty, but often emotionally volatile.) Jiro does too. And unlike Keith, Jiro stayed even when he “no longer” had a Lion to fly from his POV, and he struggled with the rest of the Team to adjust to Lions that no longer suited them in the wake of Shiro’s Absence. So Red chooses Jiro and flies to him. (Black would’ve saved Jiro, too, even though Jiro wasn’t Black’s true paladin. But seeing a Lion accept him, and further proof that he’s not just a poor copy but his own person and even a Paladin in his own right?)

[gemini fic, shiro vs jiro]

Basically, in starting writing and continuing to ruminate on ideas, I realized that Gemini works best as a single fic, so having Firm Consequences make more sense. Other tidying up?

-Allura and the Paladins take the Castle and immediately head out for the Altean Colony while Shiro (and Black Lion at Black’s literal insistence) go after Jiro. (And with Shiro here to lead and analyze + Convenient Recap/Alternate Explanation, Pidge is able to shut down the virus far earlier before it makes the Castle truly dead in the water.) Haggar never gets her claws into them.

-Keith formally leaves the Blades. He had a family, and he turned his back on them. Those relationships won’t be what they were before (ie, symbolic in losing his Red Paladinship), but this time he’s willing to put the work in to repair their trust in him. Meanwhile, the Blades never were going to help him find his mother intentionally no matter how many times he sacrificed his life for them, and his life and the lives of all the other Blades ultimately meant very little to Kolivan and the Blades as an organization. He surrenders the knife to Krolia, and walks away if Team Voltron will let him stay. It not, he can do better good with the Rebels. (Infiltration was Pidge’s thing, anyway. He’s the showy diversion maker.)

-Lotor returns to Orionde. But when he faces the Ancients and White Lion again, he stops attacking and running from his sins. He sacrifices his full life force, and the Drained Alteans revive fully restored. The tragedy his family caused and he ended up perpetuating ends with him. (That does leave…y’know. The Galran Empire without an Emperor. But hey. IF I finish this fic, that’s potential sequel material, baby!)

…anyway. Point is, Keith Antis put a bad taste in my mouth, but the point of “Keith loses Red” wasn’t to punish Keith (okay…maybe a little. But that was still mostly Black blasting lasers everywhere. For catharsis.) The point was, “There are consequence, and while some relationships can be repaired or make new ones with the same people after you’ve hurt them, others can’t. You lose them. It’s important to put in the work, but it’s also important to accept loss and endings, especially after you’ve fucked up.”

And well. I felt that Keith Losing Red, Jiro Gaining Red made things narratively tidy.

#askbox shenanigans #gemini fic #blackbox verse #anonymous #vld salt #vld keith critical #believe it or not #I’m not actually anti keith #I DO hate how his character acts in every season after s2 #and especially how he acts in s6 onward #there’s a few asks that are sitting in my box that are…heavy on the keith hate that I should prolly just delete tbh #especially as I have a few vld friends who DO like s1 keith and can crank out The REAL Keith fics and guess what! I enjoy keith’s character #so…not actually a Keith Hate blog. but it IS ‘keith ain’t shit as BP and definitly ain’t shit as a leader ever’#and ‘keith should’ve had comeuppance for his bullshit. but in a better reality shiro never would’ve been forced out therefore no keith bs’

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loosesodamarble · 2 years ago

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Hi Erika! 💙 Thank you again for all of the wonderful discussion about the world’s best grumpy, tsundere spatial mage. You always have such wonderful and thoughtful ideas, and your headcanons are so spot on and delightful! 😊 It’s switching gears a bit, but I wanted to ask you about Demon Slayer (I’ve been on a bit of a KNY kick—lots of excitement for Season 3 I think). I apologise if you’ve already answered this somewhere in a past post, but who are your favourite Demon Slayer characters? Thanks dear! 💕

Hello hello, Acacia~! Sorry for taking forever and a half to answer your question but here's the answer now! (Also gonna tag you @acacia-may to make sure you see this because it's been so long.)

This ask has been sitting in the inbox so long that Season 3 of the anime is currently airing now. Whoops! 😅🤣 I don't think I've answered this exact question regarding my KnY faves, especially since I mostly post Black Clover... So thanks for making me think of Demon Slayer again~! 💖

Now for my favorites, I think I'm gonna go ahead and start with some honorable mentions before listing a Top 5.

I'm gonna talk a lot so the meat of this post will be under the cut.

..........

Honorable mentions

I've talked about how similar Zenitsu and I are to each other and that's why he's an honorable mention. I vibe with the kid. He's so funny with how extra complainy he is about... everything. Poor child. (Side note: the store I work at sells some KnY character pens and the Zenitsu ones don't sell well and I lowkey feel bad about that.)

And Tanjirou is the MC. He's so sweet and kind to his friends. But he's a strong-willed fighter and knows what's right for everyone. Killing demons is how he saves humans threatened by demons and humans who have become demons. I love the way he learns in each arc, whether it be something emotional or in terms of how he fights. His worldview and morality don't really change but I do feel like he experiences growth nonetheless.

Top 5 Faves

5) Sanemi: I like this jerk, okay? I am drawn to jerk older brothers who secretly love and want to protect their siblings (Nacht, Nozel, and Sanemi have a little club in my mind.) He's a little off-putting at first but you know there's depth to his character when we see how he speaks to Kagaya with such respect. He acts rough but he's thoughtful deep down. And his bond with his mother and Genya! Like! This man is soft deep down, let me have it!

4) Nezuko: Before Nacht was my tumblr pfp, it was actually Nezuko. She is the cutest sister character in any series I've read (which actually isn't that many but sssshhhhhh!). I love her anti-demon flames. I love how she's allowed to fight and get bloody (mostly because she has a healing factor and can get absolutely wrecked but come back from it). She doesn't get to say a lot but she still has strong moments. Like how Tanjirou dreams of her telling him not to worry about their family not having nice things and to just try his best. Gosh, when that got animated I cried... I love Nezuko so much... Baby...

3) Mitsuri: Mitsuri is such a sweetheart! She's one of the two KnY characters that I'd date if given the chance. I love how she carries herself. She wears her heart on her sleeve whether she be happy or sad. Like, her second introduction to Tanjirou is crying openly in front of him. In the present, she's not afraid to be vulnerable. Her story in the second light novel is also really nice as it shows how Mitsuri became the open-hearted gal she is in the present. She went from feeling self-conscious about her reason for being in the Corps to learning how she brings cheer to people's lives and that renewing her convictions. She knows the Corps members have hard lives but her attitude doesn't make light of it. It's okay to have cheer after hardship because bogging oneself in pessimism will only hurt. Also, and this might be me bragging a little but I actually used Mitsuri and Obanai's failed romance in a college essay about romance literature in Japan. It was a silly little essay but to be able to cite one of my favorite mangas for a college assignment was fun (and actually my second time doing it. First time was talking about Daki and Gyuutarou in regards to depictions of "geisha"). I just love Mitsuri a lot and would love to be more like her (attitude, appearance, and ability-wise honestly...).

2) Kyoujurou: I love this man so much that I saw the movie in theaters and cried all three times because man does his death really hit hard in the anime. Kyoujurou is bright and warm and inspiring. While he's unable to help Tanjirou regarding the Dance of the Fire God, he still offers to make Tanjirou and the other boys his students. I think it's a mix of genuinely seeing their potential and just wanting the chance to teach the younger generation but it's kinda hilarious how quickly he latches onto the trio. I really like Kyoujurou's philosophy on life, how the fleeting nature of it is what makes it beautiful (mayhaps he read a bit of the Hojoki in his free time?/lh+j). It's a little sad to see people leave or even die but change is what makes life what it is. Kyoujurou also the second KnY characters I'd want to date so there's that.

1) Inosuke: MY BABY BOAR BOY! From the first panel he was in, he had me entertained. Inosuke is loud and chaotic and fun. I'm not usually about chaotic boys but Inosuke learning what kindness and friendship are are what endear me to him. He's so confused by affection is absolutely the cutest thing. And despite acting macho and like he's supposed to be a leader, all of his major victories are a team effort. Working alongside Tanjirou to beat that puppeted demon on Natagumo Mountain, the fight against Daki, and even in his fight of the final arc. I do kinda wish he had more solo moments though because he should get a little more spotlight, but what he does get, I enjoy thoroughly. He's the character that got me to make a KnY oc (Shizuka) because I wanted someone fiery but also sweet to play off him (and be shipped with him). Inosuke is a feral boy but still a sweet guy and I find that really cute for whatever reason. The bonus chapter about his early life is really stinking adorable as well! It's great! Inosuke is very adoptable in my mind. Thus, he is my favorite character.

#questions from the ask box #full bloomed acacia #soda asides #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #tanjirou kamado #zenitsu agatsuma #sanemi shinazugawa #nezuko kamado #mitsuri kanroji #kyoujurou rengoku #inosuke hashibira

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mangorb · 7 months ago

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the conversion therapy gaslighting (you're just a stupid little girl/you just feel this way because you were actually secretly raped -- extra confusing as someone who HAS been assaulted)

the invisible man syndrome. one of the oddest things I find is that people will always assume you're a trans woman if they find out you're trans. I'm sure it's because trans women get a lot more media coverage (both positive and negative), but it's just like other trans people don't exist? it's weird lol I choose to find it amusing. it does make looking for community really difficult though

a weird insistence even from professed allies that I need to consider how my transition will affect future partners. Which makes NO fucking sense to me? How and why am I supposed to worry about what a hypothetical future person will think? If this imaginary person wants a partner with boobs/fertility/[insert trait here], idk what to tell you dude, they shouldn't be dating me, straight up. it's not that deep. I'm confident in my ability to pull if I wanted to and I'd much rather do it in a body that I'm attached to.

the absolute information DESERT surrounding ftm bottom. I hold no resentment for transfems getting the bottom surgery they deserve, but the comparative absence of R&D going into transmasc bottom makes me really sad :( Allow me to demonstrate: metiodplasty was a technique developed in the 90s. It has basically never been optimised or improved on since. Extended metoidplasty is rn the closest we can get to a fully functional natal penis, but to my knowledge there are 2 whole surgeons who perform this procedure in the US - and possibly in the world as it isn't approved by the greater medical community. If you add STP ability, you can literally count the number of people who recieved it so far on one hand. Feel free to fact check me here bc I'm on shit internet and cba, but good luck because none of this information can be found on professional, easily accessible websites and is mostly moonshining and word of mouth on fuckin. reddit

I could go on about the ways ftm bottom resources is lacking but this post is getting sidetracked as it is. I feel my phantom dick syndrome very strongly I am sorry. (the response to this is generally "but how do you KNOW that's what you're feeling?" -- see point #1)

really rampant degendering/dehumanising that's only more obvious when coupled with racism. I'm asian, and besides the tendency for people to assume asian = white-adjacent (not for me, I'm dark skinned, don't come from a western culture, speak distinctly with an asian mannerism), even cis asian men are consistently degendered and emasculated, so I've fully made peace that no matter how well I could pass, I'll never actually pass in the world because of my ethnicity. I'm proud of my culture so it doesn't bother me but, like yeah it still sucks terribly

this got too long to keep in the tags whoops

❗️❗️ This is asked entirely in good faith. This post is intended to open dialogue and help with solidarity and understanding. ❗️❗️

I would like to hear specifically from trans men and trans mascs how the system of [whatever the fuck you call the intersection of transphobia, misogyny, and specifically your gender- whether transandrophobia, isomisogny, antitransmasculinity, transandromisia, transmisandry, or any that I have missed as there are a lot of words to describe similar concepts] uniquely targets and affects you. Things that you feel other demographics do not experience. Reblogs and replies are very encouraged! If you would prefer, you could dm or send an ask to be added anonymously by me.

This is in the spirit of wanting to understand. I am listening. I encourage all non-trans-mascs to not speak on this topic and let trans mascs and trans men do the talking here. Reblog the post to spread it, but please say nothing.

Any and all people who identify as trans men and/or trans mascs are encouraged to participate.

This is not bait to start a fight. I will block without hesitation anyone who is actively being a shithead on this post. I want to hear and uplift your voices by getting it directly from you.

Click this to access the trans fem and trans women version of this post.

#and not exclusive to transmascs but the whole bathroom ordeal of course #I'm long haired (+ mentioned asian) and wouldn't pass great as a man even if I were cis so I can get away with using the womens' side #but I've been getting more and more side eyes recently. if I start getting open hostility I'll probably have to make the switch then #I know that people in the mens' side generally don't give a shit but I still have underlying fear around cis men that I need to get over :/#transandrophobia

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lesterlatte · 7 years ago

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Since @umi-midorii tagged me in two things I’ll do them in one post lol

I don’t know if anyone would be annoyed by me tagging them??? Feel free to completely ignore me if so (tagging people makes me kinda anxious tbh so askldlsd i’m sorry if you don’t like getting tagged in stuff like this) @ramune-ray @up-the-tube @youngbloodthekilljoy and @henry-hart

This gets kinda long so I’m sorry in advance

I. Nickname?

Lou

II. Gender?

Female

III. Star sign?

Saggitarius

IV. Height?

5′6 ish??? Idk man

V. Favourite feature?

My hair

VI. Favourite colour?

Blue

VII. Favourite animal?

I don’t have one but I love Cats, Alpacas and Sloths the most (also Axolotls are adorable)

VIII. Average hours spent sleeping?

On school night I get 7 hours on weekends it can go from 12 hours one night to like 4 the next i’m a mess

IX. Dogs or cats?

Cats 100%

X. Number of blankets you sleep with?

One

XI. What’s your dream trip?

Definitely Japan though I’d love to go to the USA one day! (not sure which state tbh)

XIV. How many followers do you have?

XV. How many pets do you have?

I have one cat - his name is Barney and I love him

XVI. Best places to visit in your town or country?

I mean London and Brighton are probably the two best places to go tbh (where I live in the UK doesn't have that much to visit apart from old buildings lmao)

XVII. Favorite ice cream flavor?

Chocolate or Vanilla (I’m so basic lolol)

XVIII. How often do you read?

I’m very much a fanfic reader and I’ll spend ages reading them if they are presented to me but I’m not a massive physical book reader (though the series a court of thorns and roses is the shit and I highly reccomend it!)

XIX. Favourite study locations?

I just study by the family computer or on my bed (this is a callout bc I should be studying German rn shhh)

XX. Favourite book series?

Okay I already answered that (look back up at question XVIII)

Now for the second lot of questions (these are the ones that the people tagged do not have to answer btw if any of you actually decide to answer any lol)

1. Favourite band/music group?

Right now Tsubaki Factory are my #1 (tbh all of Hello Project are my faves so lets go with that lol) but if I had to choose from music in english? I’d say Panic! at the disco are my fave right now!

2. Favourite subject in school?

Art probably (I also like the music course i’m taking too)

3. Fruits or veggies?

I’m down for both tbh I cant choose lol

4. What’s an inside joke you have?

I don’t really have any?? I guess the fact that myself and @zirith call each other m9 (which is super lame and cringy but so are we whoops)

5. Ever been to disney?

Never but I really really want to go though! (the one in Paris would be my best shot but I’d also love to go to the Florida one too at some point!)

6. Do you like rollercoasters?

Nope count me out of that shit

7. Favourite movie?

Ohhh um The Nightmare Before Christmas is one of my all time faves! I can’t think of any others right now

8. What’s your dream job?

I’m really not sure... I’ve never really thought about it so...

9. What’s something you wish you were good at?

Talking to new people. I’m sososo terrible at it (especially in person) so I wish I could do that

10. What do you listen to during long car rides? (podcasts, specific kind of music, etc.)

I normally have a H!P playlist I go through on long journeys. I add all the newest songs just before I leave and just let them play! (I do find myself with the Super Mario Galaxy ost playing sometimes because its beautiful - its even playing right now haha)

11. Favourite warm drink?

I don’t drink any type of warm drinks sorry lol

Now I’m meant to come up with 10 new questions for the second part or smthn apparently? so here we go:

1) Favourite video game? (if you play any)

2) What is one album you’d recommend?

3) What type of weather do you like most?

4) What mood are you currently in?

5) Favourite comfort food?

6) What is one of your main hobbies?

7) Your opinion on the pineapple on pizza discourse (i’m running out of questions as you can quite clearly tell)

8) Someone you really look up to (can be anyone!)

9) A joke that makes you laugh

10) How was / is your day today?

#this got soooooo long wow #thanks umi for tagging me ily #I never get tagged in anything like this so this is cool #feel free to just ignore me haha #i really dont mind #you can tell how much I worry about tagging whoops #its so obvious

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kittyymew · 3 years ago

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Dating Dad! Toji- Part 3

First Christmas at the Fushiguro residence

Tagging- @laudthingcat @chosos-angel @tequchiha @tojisfangs

I was planning to hold this idea off until December but this was way too cute and I am an impatient and a horney person when it comes to Daddy Toji!

Link to Previous Parts- Part 1. Part 2.

Link to the Next Parts- Part 4. Part 5.

*******

Toji isn't big on festivals or occasions. That is before he had you and Baby 'Gumi in his life. He isn't as excited for Christmas as much as he is to spend it with the only two important people in his life.

"Do we HAVE to? Can't we just... order it online or something?!" He'd complain when you tell him that you have to go out shopping for a Christmas Tree. He already hated shopping as it is, and now to go out and look for... trees? He'd be bored out of his mind just by the thought of it.

"Why can't we buy a plastic tree? Wouldn't it be more... I don't know... economical?" Toji would suggest as you're strolling down the aisles at one of your local dealers.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" You whisper scold him, continuing to push the stroller in which Baby 'Gumi is fast asleep.

If you think Toji wouldn't start with his shenanigans while you're out shopping for a Christmas tree, then you're dead wrong. 30 minutes in and he's going to start spewing out lewd comments, occasionally grabbing/ smacking your ass telling you how he cannot wait until you get home and get punished for dragging him through this boring festival task.

Yeah he doesn't care if his behaviour receives a few judgemental glances from other customers. In fact, he enjoys seeing you get all flustered and embarrassed.

Your ass and his imagination are the only things keeping him sane as of now.

A few days later, you have your Christmas tree set in the living room. But, thanks to Toji, he managed to set the tree on fire. No it wasn't Jogo.

You'd come home to see that your Tree has disappeared along with Toji and Baby 'Gumi. You're gonna whoop his ass when he comes home. He has a lot of explaining to do. Yeah to think that this sorcerer assassin is scared of YOU is kinda funny.

Around midnight, he's gonna sneak into the house, thinking that you might be asleep but there you are, on the couch waiting for him to get home.

"OH Babe! I thought you'd be asleep! I just uh... went out because 'Gumi wanted to go out, you know!"

You'll just raise an eyebrow at which point he'd start throwing compliments your way left and right.

"Oh you know, it struck me how amazing you are! And your ability to contain your anger and stay calm is one of your best qualities that I admire! You know I love you right?" well they aren't just empty words though.

You'll cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. Defeated, he'll tell you the truth about how he saw a cursed spirit in the house hovering near Baby 'Gumi and how he happened to be near the Christmas Tree when he freaked out and tried to get rid of it.

Need I say you went from being mad to being scared and worried in 0.0001 seconds?

"Are you SURE that both of you are O-FUCKING-KAY?" You ask for the millionth time, holding and cuddling Baby 'Gumi close to you. "Oh my god, yes Y/N! Besides, I was the one who went up against it! How is it fair that only 'Gumi is getting all your love and attention?!" Can you believe this man?!

The next day, just when Toji walks out of your shared bedroom in the morning thinking he is out of the woods with having destroyed the Christmas tree, he sees you dressing up Baby 'Gumi in a star costume?

Saying that this man is confused would be an understatement. "Is this supposed to imply that he's the star of our life or some corny shit like that?"

"Toji! Shut up and go get dressed! I'm GETTING a picture of our first Christmas together... WITH a Christmas Tree..."

Yeah he's even more confused now. You shove a bag in his chest and he is DISMAYED by what he finds inside the paper bag.

"I am NOT wearing that Y/N"

Yeah no shit Sherlock. But you're you, you're not taking a NO for an answer this time, and after an hour of persuading and blackmailing and guilt tripping Toji, he finally gets into the stupid thing you bought for him and Baby 'Gumi.

Lord save you when 'Gumi grows up and sees what all shit you've put his baby ass into

So what if you didn't have an actual tree? You now have Toji dressed as a tree!

First Christmas together? Yeah, I think it's a success. Even without an actual Christmas Tree.

"Don't you fucking dare show it to ANYONE Y/N! I am being DEAD-SERIOUS! Or better yet, just delete that picture already!"

Yeah, you're definitely making a card out of it!

*******

Lmfao I don't even know what to say, feels like I'm on meth or something.

Anyhow, I hope you liked it

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bnha-dumpster · 3 years ago

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Hear me out

Step-brother Shigaraki shoving a vibe in (male) reader during a dinner and Shigaraki is controlling the vibrator and then after dinner Shigaraki fucks the life out of Reader

i was gonna work on monster stuff but this is just *chef's kiss* i think i'm going down the road of a pseudo-incest kink whoops and laughs at myself as i add plot for no reason (also gives you guys a visual reference of the toy in the fic)

pairing: step-brother shigaraki x male reader content tags/warnings: dub-con, pseudo-incest, mild exhibitionism, choking, sex toys, degradation, mind break word count: 2.1k

Things around the household have changed drastically since your mother remarried. You love your mother and want her to be happy, but you feel that things have changed far too fast and far too much.

You had been told that your step-father wanted you to move in with him for two reasons. One; you don't have a job since you're attending university full-time and two; his house is pretty close to your university. You've seen his house from the outside and you can't deny the thought of living in such a large house is pleasant. It's a good deal. But if you had been told that your step-father has a shut-in son that lives with him before moving in, you might've reconsidered it.

Shigaraki is rude and has zero social skills. While you don't actually mind people that don't have social skills- it's often times not their fault- there's something about your step-brother that just unnerves you. You see him and alarm bells go off in your mind.

He likes to catch you off guard. Coming into your room to watch you, pinning you to surfaces, groping you, watching you shower- there's something really wrong with him.

"Tomu-"

You're trying to walk downstairs to go eat dinner with your mother and step-father. Trying, being the keyword. Shigaraki has you pinned to the wall once again. One of his hands is able to completely hold both your wrists- he's not even that much bigger than you! He's using his free hand to tug your sweatpants down to your knees. The pinning isn't exactly new, but he's never actually pulled your clothes off.

"I bought something for you. It's a little present for having such a cute brother." His voice makes you shudder, but the item he holds up next to your face makes you tense up. It's a brand new, probably expensive, sex toy.

"Tomura- hey- let's not-" You squirm and shake your head.

"Don't cause a fuss. Just let me do this, 'kay?"

The lube on the toy is your only saving grace as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and tries to put it on you. It doesn't work very well, the lubed up toy sliding against your limp cock a few times before Shigaraki growls lowly.

"I'm taking my hand off and I expect you to stay still." True to his word, the hand on your wrists disappears. If this were the first time he tried to do something like this, then you might've run away. But you've unfortunately learned through experience that your step-brother is far stronger than he seems. It's only because of your knowledge do you stay.

His hand is cold and calloused, an uncomfortable feeling against your skin. You grimace as he grabs your cock to slip the ring over it, making sure it’s snug against the base before he pushes the vibrating part of the toy into you. It doesn’t actually seem that bad until he turns the toy on.

“Shit-” You’re not oblivious to the toy’s function but you didn’t expect it to be so snug against that spot inside you. Shigaraki grabs you before your legs buckle, laughing at your state.

“Wow, you’re that sensitive?” He’s taunting you, making fun of you. “Is my little brother just a slut in disguise?”

Your pants are pulled up and a small slap is given to your ass. It brings a small yelp out of you, making you turn around to glare at him. He doesn’t seemed fazed by it. Instead, it spurs him on and you can feel him grind against your ass. Even through the fabric of both of your sweatpants, you can feel how hot and heavy his cock is. You can tell it’s thick and that’s barely hard.

A sliver of arousal makes itself known with a twitch of your cock. The realization makes you stand up straight and shove your step-brother away, adjusting your clothes to hide the erection beginning to strain underneath your pants.

It’s difficult to sit down at the dinner table and act normal. You give your mother a small smile as you squirm in your seat for a moment. The toy’s low vibration stimulating every part of you- the base of your cock being teased, vibrations going through your balls and taint, the dildo pressing snugly against your prostate- and it’s difficult to hold your composure.

“Are you okay, dear?” Your mother is looking at you with concern.

“O-oh, I’m alright, mom.” You force another smile.

“Go lay down after dinner, okay?”

You give a small nod before you start eating, not waiting for your step-brother to sit down. He’s probably snickering to himself and thinking of what he should do. The sudden increase of vibrations of the toy surprises you and you choke on a piece of food.

“Honey?”

“Don’t worry, he’s just a little out of it, right lil bro?” A large hand comes to rest on your shoulder. As you turn to look over your shoulder, Shigaraki stares down at you with a small smirk. You can see the small remote in his hand and you almost want to reach out and grab it. But that’d cause a scene- the last thing you want at the dinner table.

He slides into his seat, not bothering to eat. All he’s doing is staring at you and analyzing your reactions as he plays with the remote in his pocket.

“Yeah, j-just a little bit out of it.” You try your best to keep yourself together. Eating your dinner as fast as possible is your goal, hoping that this torture is only for the sake of humiliating you in front of your mother.

The vibrations of the toy change rapidly. It seems like Shigaraki’s just cycling through them for the first time, gauging your reactions as he does so. He’s trying to find the best setting for you right now, surely. The one that does you in is the low and slow pulsing of the toy.

He’s learning so much about you. You’re smart enough not to fight him physically but still have the guts to snap at him with your words. You prefer to be teased with a lack of stimulation rather than overstimulation. You won’t tell your mother about anything he does so she’ll stay happy. The best part... You’re easy to read.

Now that it’s been a few minutes of dealing with the toy, you’re settling down. It’s still uncomfortable, the low stimulation keeping your cock hard, but you’re able to eat your dinner for the most part. You’re eating quicker than normal just so this can end.

“Thanks for dinner, mom.” As you stand from the table, Shigaraki cycles through the toy quickly to put the vibrations at its most intense setting. You curl in on yourself and groan, facing contorting.

“Dear?”

You give her a reassuring smile despite the heat pooling in your stomach. As much as you want to leave the table, you’re not sure you can do it yourself. It seems to be part of your step-brother’s plan. He puts his arm under yours, holding you up to help you shuffle back upstairs.

“I’ll make sure he’s alright, don’t worry.”

They can’t see it, but you’re glaring at him as he helps you up. With him being the only reason you’re still standing however, that’s all you can manage to do. You hold onto his torso as he takes you up the stairs and opens the door of your room.

“You’re close, huh? You were about to cum in front of our parents, weren’t you?” Shigaraki throws you onto the floor of your room with a thud, using his foot to turn you onto your back. He stares down at you and steps on your cock, moving it back and forth.

“Alright little bro, cum for me.”

With a particularly large amount of pressure, almost painful, you tense and spurt ropes of cum inside your pants. A stain begins to seep into the fabric and Shigaraki looks down at you with a sneer. You’re squirming under his foot, the toy still vibrating aggressively inside you and around the base of your cock.

He picks you up by the hair and drags you to your bed, manhandling you so your face is against the comforter and your ass is in the air. He doesn’t even bother turning the toy off as he takes it out of you and slides your cock out of the ring. Your ass clenches around the air pathetically, teasing Shigaraki. Even with something inside you, stretching you out, your ass still looks tight and almost untouched. The only thing eluding to its use is the lube smeared around it.

You’re given no warning when your step-brother grabs your hips and slams his cock inside you. When did he take it out? You don’t know.

“Shiiiiiit- Do you know how tight you are?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Shigaraki begins to fuck you with abandon, thrusting into you with no care for your comfort. The stretch of his cock, how it reaches almost too deep inside you- it’s horribly uncomfortable. There’s a tinge of pleasure from the stretch of his cock pressing against your prostate almost constantly, but not much else.

His balls slap against your ass with every heavy thrust and the grip on your hips is bruising. You can feel his nails digging into the skin and you’re sure they’ll leave marks. He’s leaving reminders of this.

A hand leaves your hip to hold your limp cock, pumping it aggressively. The sudden stimulation is painful and you squirm.

“Now, now, little bro. Be a good slut for me and let me play with you.” Shigaraki sneers at the way you stop squirming at his words. “There... See, you’re a pathetic little slut for your big bro, aren’t you?”

You refuse to answer, only burying your face into the sheets to hide your humiliated tears. It’s not like it matters. He continues to pump your cock at a fast pace, enjoying the way your walls twitch and tighten because of it. Even if you’re not feeling anything, he is. Your pleasure is more of an afterthought, a bonus. Then your cock begins to twitch back to life.

“Seriously? You’re feeling good?” Shigaraki leans against you, biting your ear. “Getting off from your step bro treating you like a whore and fucking you? You really must be one if you like this.”

“I’m not!” You protest, turning to look at him. Tears are falling down your face, cheeks red from the embarrassment. “It’s your fault! You’re forcing my body to feel like this!”

Both of you know it’s a lie. You’re definitely enjoying it. As cute as your denial is to your step-brother, he isn’t in the mood for you being like this the whole time. He wants to have to shut you up so your parents won’t hear you begging for his cock.

With a bit of reluctance, he pulls out of you. You’re allowed a brief moment of confusion as he decides how he wants to position you. Once he decides, he flips you onto your back and hikes your legs over his shoulders. In this position, he rubs your cocks together. His is undeniably thicker than yours, but your length isn’t too drastically different. There’s only a few seconds of rutting them together before he lines his cock up with your ass and slams back in.

Much to his surprise and amusement, you let out a confused moan. The new position must feel good. Your face contorting into pleasure with a mix of self-disgust is beautiful to him.

“Little bro, come on. Just let yourself feel good.” His thrusts slow and he reaches for your neck. The grip on your throat is intense and you can feel yourself becoming lightheaded almost instantly. It’s an intense feeling that mixes with pleasure, clouding your senses.

Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen or just you giving up, but you begin to buck your hips against Shigaraki’s. Your jaw goes slack and your mouth is open, eyes rolling back into your head. The choking keeps you from making much noise so all you can let out are strangled groans.

“Finally. Let yourself go. Become my whore, my pathetic cumdump of a little brother. Just be my personal cock sleeve, yeah?”

The words go in one ear and out the other and you let out a string of agreements. Your back arches, cock twitching and covering your stomach in your own cum. It’s the sudden tightness around him that pushes Shigaraki over the edge. He stills inside you as deep as he can and cums, filling your ass. As he comes down from his high, he lets go of your throat.

“Good boy.” He smacks your face gently and chuckles at your lack of response. “Gone already? Come on, we’ve barely started.”

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